#but the other eras i either have one thing that I need to wear

[theamazingannie]

Was all excited about potential costumes to wear to the film tonight when it was announced and now that it’s here I’m realizing I did not prepare at all and now have no idea what to wear

[deconstructthesoup]

One thing I absolutely adore about Dead Boy Detectives is the immaculate costume design. Specifically, how it perfectly encapsulates who the characters are, both as a whole and who they are in the moment.

From the very first scene of the show, we know immediately that Edwin is a bookish, somewhat stuffy guy from the Edwardian era who attended a boarding school, and Charles is a punk from the 1980's who's most likely the wildcard between the two of them, just going off of the way that they're dressed. Both of them have distinct color schemes and different styles, but the general shape of their outfits is actually relatively similar---both of them have collared shirts (Edwin's dress shirt, Charles's polo), something over those shirts (Edwin's vest, Charles's suspenders), a jacket of some kind (Edwin's suit jacket, Charles's flannel thing), a longer overcoat (Edwin's traveling coat, Charles's peacoat), something around the neck (Edwin's bowtie, Charles's necklace), slacks, and nice shoes. They're distinct, yet matching, two clearly defined separate characters yet part of a set.

Edwin's prim, proper, buttoned-up personality lends itself to the way he dresses throughout the season---in the first episode, he only dresses down when he's in the office with Charles, aka his safe place and his safe person, and he doesn't really dress down like that again for a good long while after getting stuck in Port Townsend (though, if my memory serves me correctly, he does take off the suit jacket while watching TV with Niko). But in episode six, he's changed up his usual look for a cozier, casual-looking sweater and a little bit of collarbone, and in episode seven... well, he's in his nightclothes, and he's about as open, raw, and vulnerable as you can get. Edwin's color scheme is also predominately blue, which lines up nicely with his logical and practical, yet deeply sad and closed off personality, and the only time he really wears anything other than his normal blue-and-brown outfit (willingly, that is) is when he's in that green sweater in episode six. And, uh... all I can say is that it's quite telling how blue and green---or, well, teal---are the main colors of the gay/mlm flag.

Charles, by contrast, dresses down a lot, and that makes a lot of sense when you consider the fact that unlike Edwin, he feels comfortable pretty much anywhere. On any given episode, he goes from wearing his peacoat to just wearing his flannel to ditching the flannel to not even wearing the freaking polo---though, again, the latter is something that only happens when he's in the office with Edwin. Safe space, safe person. And, well, plenty of people have analyzed Charles's polo shirt going from red to burgundy to black over the course of the series, and there being a little bit of red under the collar of his coat that's only visible when Edwin fixes it, and then it goes back to burgundy, and then it's red again when Edwin's out of Hell... for good reason! It's color symbolism at its finest! Not to mention, the red and black not only perfectly contrasts Edwin's color scheme, but it also lines up with Charles's personality---he's a rebel, he's hotheaded, he's bold and brash and loud... and yes, he's angry, but he's also so, so loving.

When we first meet Crystal after she loses her memories, her outfit choices feel very deliberate. They're stylish and vaguely trendy, they're arty and a little bit witchy---pretty fitting for a psychic who's also a showbiz kid, even if she doesn't know that last part. But all of her clothes appear thrifted, or at the very least vintage, and the patterns and the general vibe all feel natural and comforting. Her makeup's always fairly simple, her hair's either down or up in a couple of cute space buns... overall, this Crystal looks like the kind of person who'd make you tea when you're in a bad mood, who'll listen when you just need to vent, and who may not always know the right thing to say but will understand what you're going through. But when we see her in the flashbacks, her clothing's flashy and prioritizes high-end trends over comfort, she's either got her hair up or has it straightened, and she not only has dramatic makeup, but acrylics. This is a girl who talks shit about you behind your back, who's bitter and cynical and wants everyone to feel the same way, who makes up for the lack of love and stability in her life via material things. It's also worth noting that Crystal's color scheme has a lot of purple, which is a color that connects to wealth and luxury, but also creativity and magic---which, yeah, fits her two conflicting sides pretty damn well.

You cannot talk about Niko Sasaki without talking about her outfits, and the meaning behind each of them has already been talked about at length. However, one thing that really stands out to me is that the reason they're so iconic isn't just because of the monochrome color schemes, but because they're out there. They're weird, they're eclectic, they're a little mismatched in style sometimes, and they're so unapologetically her. Niko wears heart-shaped sunglasses, unironically. Everything about the way she dresses speaks to how, even though she's a recovering shut-in who initially doesn't want to be perceived, she's still very sure of who she is.

Jenny's design, like Charles and Edwin's, is a design that gives you the key information you need the minute she first appears onscreen. The dark makeup, the silver jewelry, the leather apron, and the hairstyle all point to a person who's tough, doesn't take anyone's shit, and has long since given up on caring what other people think---in other words, she's a badass. But the butterfly tattoo hints at a softer side, a side that we see time and time again throughout the series as she shows that she cares about Crystal and Niko, and even the boys... eventually. Also, Jenny's design is perhaps one of the most clearly queer-coded in the series, to the point where her being a confirmed lesbian is pretty much a no-brainer.

Esther's design oozes camp, from top to bottom. The fluffy coat, the bustier, the boots and the cane and the everything, speak to a woman who's kept with the times and yet has seen it all. There's really not a lot I can fully say about her design, other than what Charles has already said: "She looks like a witch... like, kind of a sexy witch, who smokes a lot." (Or maybe I'm just tired and running out of steam at this point, idk, I love Esther's design and I can't really put it into words.) It's also pretty fitting that her color scheme has a lot of yellow in it---after all, she's always striving for more, so what better color for her than the color of gold?

Everything about the Night Nurse's design speaks to a woman who follows rules and discipline above all else, from the pantsuit to the pinned-up hairstyles to the tie to the heels. She's also the most muted out of the main cast in terms of color, dressing mostly in browns, dull greens, and duller browns---and while I don't have a lot to go into detail about there, I feel like that's kind of a symbol of her narrow-minded and bureaucratic worldview.

And the animal characters... Jesus Christ, I fully forget that they're all being played by human actors. Tragic Mick dresses like a man who's always spent his life by the sea, layered denim and all, and it's never a stretch to see this sad, bushy-bearded, baggy-clothed fisherman and imagine him as a walrus lounging on a beach. Monty, at first glance, seems to only wear black, which would be perfectly fitting for a crow, but when he's in better lighting, you see that he dresses in layers of red and blue, calling to how he envies Charles and Edwin and clearly longs for something more---and this might just be me, but I think that even though his outfits seem fairly normal at first glance, they feel kind of like a costume for Monty more than anything else, like he's trying to emulate a teenager that he's seen on TV more than someone in real life.

The Cat King fits this just as well, with all of his outfits aligning perfectly with whatever his cat form is at the time---when he's a fluffy ginger, it's always sequins and fur coats and clothing pieces that are specifically designed to take up space and call attention, and when he's a black shorthair, it's sleek styles and shiny leather and pieces that are designed to cut an intimidating yet more subtle figure. And while I could go into detail about all of those, what really stands out to me is how clearly queer everything is---more than Jenny's alt lesbian attire, more than Esther's campy coat and corset. From the very first scene he's in, he's wearing a skirt, and it looks natural. Nothing about the way the Cat King presents himself is exaggerated, nothing about the way he dresses is played for laughs---he's flamboyant and feminine and flirty, and he looks so fucking hot while he does it. It's gorgeous.

So... yeah, uh, all the awards for the Dead Boy Detectives costume designers!

[teatreeoilll]

ChildhoodFriend!Sukuna drabble-headcanon thingy part 2 | part I here w/c - 750 cw: manga spoilers (although I'm only on chapter 180 so if it kind of doesn't make sense with the rest I'm sorry!!)

ChildhoodFriend!Sukuna who wakes up a thousand years later, now trapped in a boy's body, unaware of the fact that you, too, had made a deal with the devil to satisfy your yet unmet need for revenge.

Hein Era

"You must be Kenjaku," you said, relief washing over your body. It has been three long years since you've decided to find the man, the journey wearing you out, turning you into an empty shell in tattered rags.

"May the traveler who knows my name introduce herself?" He proposed, not making the effort to turn around from his position over the cooking pot. The shabby hut you stood in and his mild demeanor hardly lived up to the reputation of the most vicious man to set foot in Japan in eons.

And so you do, with a deep bow and a mutter of your name, "I've come to an understanding that to kill the man I wish dead might take more than one lifetime," you proclaimed, "and I've been told you're the one to turn to."

Tokyo, 2018

ChildhoodFriend!Sukuna felt something strange the moment Itadori Yuji fell face-first into Tokyo Colony No. 1. However, he couldn't pinpoint what exactly it was, like the dull wistfulness of an old perfume. Itadori Yuji sensed it too, but had little time to muse over such things when he was too busy fighting to try to locate Higuruma Hiromi.

"Kogane, show me player Higuruma Hiromi," you order, looking at the information popping up, "his points are gone. Is he the one who changed the rule?" You don't wait for an answer before continuing, "It doesn't matter; he might still know something. Ikebukuro's close now."

You walk through the concrete and metal jungle; these people have built themselves miles upon miles of castles, you think, Sukuna probably enjoys watching them crumble.

When you approach the theater you were told Higuruma resides in, a boy walks out. As soon as he catches a glimpse of you, he halts, standing on guard on the other side of the road.

ChildhoodFriend!Sukuna has seen many faces, but yours was one that hadn't faded from his memory by the passing of time.

"I don't want to fight!" The boy exclaimed from across the road, but his shoulders were drawn back, fists curled near his pockets.

"I do not wish to fight either!" You shout back, thinking that another battle may wash off the remains of your strength. Besides, what good would it do to fight a young boy? Although only the look of his pink hair made your teeth clench and stomach tighten.

You watch the boy take a seat on the pavement, "Are you hurt?" You inquire, slowly drawing closer across the pavement.

"Just taking a breather!" He shouts, but you decide to approach regardless.

ChildhoodFriend!Sukuna who laughs. He howls like a maniac inside Yuji's head, sending strange vibrations throughout the boy's body.

"Are you alright?" You ask the boy, watching him nod as he gulps the water you handed him. The resemblance is striking, you think, but perhaps I'm just thinking too much of it.

"Thank you," he puts the empty water bottle by his side, "I'm sorry I drank all your water."

"It's nothing." You assure him, "Have you seen Higuruma here? I've a question for him."

"I don't think he's the kind to answer questions," Yuji reflected, getting up from the sidewalk.

"I won't leave him much of a choice." You asserted, watching the boy's doubtful expression, "Do you have any insight you may offer on his technique?"

"Well, I don't think I understand it, really, but.." Yuji starts explaining, watching your brows furrow as you nod along at his descriptions.

You thank him, parting curtly before turning away towards the theater.

"Wait!" Yuji exclaims behind you, "What's the question? Maybe I'll save you the trouble."

You doubt his words, but turn back to face him, "There's a man I'm looking to kill," you disclosed, "trust me, you'd want him dead too,” you chuckle, pausing for a moment, but deciding there's no harm in asking, "Sukuna, do you know where he is?"

Yuji freezes, his heartbeat quickening at the mention of the name, his wide eyes pointed straight at you.

"Didn't think so," you sigh.

ChildhoodFriend!Sukuna who pops out as a mouth carved in Yuji's cheek, causing you to jump back slightly at the bizarre sight while he taunted loudly;

"You're not going to tell her, brat?"

_

tag list: @saoirseirose, @marimeown, @http-dilflvr Thank you guys for the wonderful comments on part one, hope this one doesn't disappoint

[absolutebl]

This Week in BL - Weird Strange Warmth, Thailand

Organized, in each category, with ones I'm enjoying most at the top.

Sept 2024 Week 2

Ongoing Series - Thai

Jack & Joker (Thai Mon IQIYI) ep 1 of 12 - Oh it’s fucking great. What a fantastic start! It’s a fun cast too. I adore seeing all of the familiar faces. This is a lot more fun than Kidnap (sorry GMMTV, do better). I mean both shows are serving the same kind of concept but with completely different energy. I love that War is playing phi in this series. I think it suits him much better. In fact. I really like these rolls for this pair. I think they’re gonna knock it outta the park. I am so happy this is good. I wanted it to be good. And it’s good!

Monster Next Door (Thai Thurs Gaga ) ep 8 of 12 - Oh no! He read the journal. No snooping! Well I guess they needed to get some tension for these 2 from somewhere, otherwise they are too good to each other. Meanwhile, I’m not sure about the sides in this particular series. I don’t hate them. The laundry jealousy moment was pretty well done. But I'm not sold, either.

Addicted Heroin (Thai Tues WeTV) ep 5 of 10 - I forgot that we were already on the ICONIC kidnapping section of the narrative. I miss Gu Hai's OBEY sweatshirt from the original. (Someday I will own that sweatshirt.) Hero should at least be wearing an OBEY T-shirt. Frankly I miss the harshness of the original too. Johnny Huang was just so massive, August doesn't have the physicality to carry this scene off. Nor does Thailand have the guts to push it into the creepy obsessive territory that made the first version so thrilling to watch.

The thing about the original kidnapping bit was we could feel Gu Hai's vibrating need to possess overriding everything else (including his sense of humor and frustration with himself). Gu Hai KNOWS kidnapping was an over reaction, he KNOWS he is being absurd, he just doesn't care. Because he doesn't just want to fuck Bai Luo Yin he wants to consume him.

We didn't get any of that from Hero. Hero, as a character, just isn't edgy enough to carry off a kidnapping, he's been softened too much in this new Thai form.

And then... An around the back of head not-kiss? Interesting choice. (Checks to see if BoomPeak are hanging out nearby.) Is that because the actor is under age? We in that head space for this whole show? (Pun intended.) Not sure how I feel about any of it.

It’s a much milder confession this time around, because it’s Thailand, but it’s still warped. So I’m still here for the weird strange warmth of this damn show. I did laugh a lot during this episode. 

Kidnap (Fri YT) ep 2 of 12 - Oh I am very much enjoying this.

"You’re the worst kidnapper I ever ever met" is an apt accusation.

Battle of the Writers (Sun YT) ep 7 of 12 - I kinda enjoyed the little side romance story (wealthy writer intellectual + poor local salt-of-the-earth boy = Love Seaing all over my damn screen). It came outta nowhere but... okay.

I honestly have no idea what’s going on with this show. But the kisses are nice. And I pretty much like all of the couples. It’s wild how disjointed it is but simultaneously how pretty. It’s like Star Hunter got hold of Mame’s budget and aesthetic. 

I Saw You in My Dream (Weds Gaga) ep 9 of 12 - Boyfriend era to the max. Production is still ignoring the whole "dreaming the future" POINT OF THIS SHOW.

The Trainee (Sun YT) ep 11 of 12 - Jane is VERY COOL. Like tay-style cool… as it were. I like their dynamic when they're given one to play with. It’s the rest of this show I don’t enjoy. 

Live in Love (Sun Gaga) ep 2 of 5 - It cute. Bit odd but cute. I like the language play, of course. It’s an interesting pair to watch flirt because it’s all language play so that's fun but otherwise, I'm not convinced.

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

The On1y One (Taiwan Thurs Gaga) eps 7-8 of 12 - This BL doesn’t drink from the water bottle to show off its neck. It quietly hands you the water bottle and expects you to understand that is not an act of generosity but of polite distancing. It's about the delicacy of the messaging, and the way themes are conveyed with such nuance.

This story is entirely about the two of them figuring out about each other, and then trying to be what the other person needs based on that information. It means they (and therefore we) are on this journey of discovering affection together. It's brilliant.

I must talk about the physical acting of these two for a second. That scene where they’re fighting over the book and then fall into the pool. That was one take. That’s amazing. These two are really fucking stellar not only at acting but hitting their marks. And let's be clear, that is NOT the same thing. I bet they both have stage training.

Define irony: watching two abandoned kids counsel their respective parents through abandonment issues.

Sugar Dog Life (Japan Sun grey) ep 6 of 10 - It is stupid cute and utterly charming. They are total boyfriends. It’s just that one of them wants to be and one of them assumes they already are. Actually, nevermind boyfriends, they’re married.

I Hear the Sunspot AKA Hidamari ga Kikoeru (Japan Weds Gaga) ep 12fin - It made me whimper a lot because they’re both hurting so much. But in the end it was... fine.

Summation

The compassionate story of a college kid going deaf and the one boy he can hear. I love this manga and was let down by the first adaptation (Silhouette of Your Voice), so I was expecting a lot from this BL. I expected the soundscapes in this one to be fantastic, and the were, but I didn’t expect the filming to be something special too. But it really is. The acting is great too. But the story? It was just fine. They spent far too much time on the build to a relationship, then wallowed in their separation and a problematic girl character, when they should have been showcasing Taichi's character arc and his capacity for connection. Perhaps Japan should pass this one off to Thailand, It's a soft story centering on "food as love" so they might do better with it. I am, yet again, disappointed. 8/10 but I want to give it a 7/10

First Note Of Love (Taiwan Mon Gaga) eps 9-10 of 12 - It’s fine. it’s cute. I enjoyed getting some backstory. More of the sides, please.

Seoul Blues (Korea Fri? YouTube) ep 7 - Honestly, why don’t they just call this entire series The Cheating Diaries and have done with it? I’m only watching it because there’s basically nothing else from Korea right now. But I’m generally mad about it. Including the fact that everybody is so pretty and the acting is so good in the series, but the stories are so terrible.

It's airing but...

The Hidden Moon (Sat WeTV) ep 1 of 10 - This is a supernatural romance (my ghost boyfriend trope) by Violet Rain (I Feel You Linger). A man is hired to write an article about an old mansion in Chiang Mai being converted into a café. He sees the ghosts of people who died at the mansion, falls in love with one of them. Was substantially recast. I loved IFYLITA except the ending so I think I'll let this one run it's course you can tell me if it's work tracking down... if they managed to land it. I have my doubts.

Happy of the End (Japan Tues Gaga) - A boy is disowned for being gay, dumped by his boyfriend, and ends up in a dysfunctional co-dependant relationship with his would-be kidnapper. We were due for another messy JBL and it's exactly as expected. I do not like it at all. And ya know what? There is plenty airing. DNF 

In case you missed it

The Time of Fever (Korea iQIYI & Viki) 6 eps - Side couple from Unintentional Love Story, HoTae & DongHee, return for a spin off backstory show.

It started out fantastic. And it was a relief to have a good Korean BL finally back on my screen, even a high angst one. But I did spend a lot of time trying trying to figure out whether they’re going to rehash or reboot from the previous series. Are we in Between Us territory or Don't Say No or (heaven forbid) To My Star 2?

None of the above, it turns out.

This was a pure prequel about lost first love. As such, it has no real finale beyond what we got in ULS. Which, for this pair, wasn't satisfying. Putting my disappointment over this aspect aside, it is enjoyable on the strength of the characters, actors, and chemistry (if not story). Yes I said chemistry, the kissing is fantastic, sometimes KBL can do that. This one featured the "teach me to kiss trope"!!!! Plus language play. Both favorites of mine. It is all angst, ache, repression, and miles of subtext. It did fudge the ending by not skipping forward and over the events in ULS to depict what happened next (what, no year long time jump when we actually need it, Korea?) It's a worthy companion piece, but should be watched BEFORE ULS for maximum satisfaction, and even then you're going to be left feeling like HoTae & DongHee's relationship was never adequately discussed or depicted in order to achieve resolution.

The little cameo of my baby in ep 5 was much appreciated. But the motorcycle should’ve been set up a little bit more. Of course I wanted it to be about them getting together after the events in the first series. But this was all backstory from start to finish. And while it was good backstory, it wasn’t ultimately satisfying for these characters. Still it’s a good little series. 8/10 

Meet You at the Blossom (China) - I'm eating crow, binging the fucker, and live blogging. It's just taking me some time. This isn't really a bingable show, not for me anyway. It's A LOT to take all at once. No new one this week.

4 Minutes (Gaga) Ended - Spies reported in to say the ending was not-exactly-unhappy and mostly lackluster. I'm torn over whether to watch. My natural disinclination to binge, meets my dissatisfaction with wishy-washy, is going up against my love for fabulous high heat and pretty pretty men.

Mitsuya-sensei no keimakutekina ezuke finished and it’s reported to be solid. Age gap treated with respect. I'm curious, so I'll check it out. Not doing very well on binging and catching up but it's on the docket...

Next Week Looks Like This:

Upcoming BLs for 2024 are listed here. This list is not kept updated, so please leave a comment if you know something new or RP with additions.

Still Coming Sept 2024:

9/15 Love Sick 2024 (Thai Sun iQIYI) 15 eps - Remake of the original. I'm scared too.

9/15 Bad Guy My Boss (Thai Sun Gaga) 10 eps - Assistant to a player boss who is in love with that boss decides to quit to save himself. The boss then makes a move. (A gay What's up with Secretary Kim?)

9/17 Love is Like a Poison AKA Doku Koi: Doku mo Sugireba Koi to Naru (Japan Tues Netflix?) 10 eps - Lawyer and a con artist meet at a bar, pair up, fall in love.

9/28 Teenager Judge (Vietnam Sat YouTube) ?? eps - oh I don't know just Ba Vinh doing his thing with pretty boys again.

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS

Love a teach me to kiss, teach me to fuck, whatever moment. (I Saw You In My Dreams sides)

Not gonna lie. I laughed. Addicted.

(Last week)

Streaming services are listed by how I (usually) watch, which is with a USA based IP, and often offset by a day because time zones are a pain.

The tag BLigade: @doorajar @solitaryandwandering @my-rose-tinted-glasses @babymbbatinygirl @babymbbatinygirl @isisanna-blog @mmastertheone @pickletrip @aliceisathome @urikawa-miyuki @tokillamonger @sunflower-positiiivity @rocketturtle4 @blglplus @anythinggoesintheshire @everlightly @renafire @mestizashinrin @bl-bam-beyond @small-dark-and-delicious @saezurumurmurs

Sigh, Tumblr in its infinite wisdom doesn't like too many at-ings.

[mv1simp]

I am in ur walls

I have come to raise the idea of, and hear me out, Max x PR officer reader. I’m just gonna yap now, hear me out

Like can you imagine Max going through his hoe phase and reader having to clean up his image, and she’s just fondly like UGH MAX. Part of her is like blehhhhh because more work, but the bigger part of her is like ✨jealous✨

And then at some point she makes an offhand comment like if you want to be a whore, can you at LEAST not make more work for me????

Cue Max and her starting to be a thing, and him trying to rile her up enough to get her to be their own PR issue just for shits and giggles and he gets quite risque and horny and her resistance to it just turns him on even more until he’s saying and doing the filthiest shit in the middle of the paddock just to get her to crack——

Also can you imagine how hilarious it would be if they get caught and GP is like NOT YOU TOO READER LIKE DOES HE HAVE A MAGIC DICK OR SMTH——

WELCOME TO MY WALLS!!! This idea HAS ME ahahahah see I was always a crackfic writer at age 12 on wattpad, its time to remerge into the light with this prompt

Like you know how max is so millennial coded. And she’s actually the same age as him but he thinks she’s older cause she’s always looking so stressed. And she like um that’s cause you’re a fuckin manwhore max?!? Have you thought about celibacy for a hot second? And as they become better friends she demands he hand over his card so she can invest in some good skincare

(max also suggests maybe she needs to get dicked down good, he’s happy to provide that if she wants or? 🤭🤭)

But anyways she’s pumping out Gen z memes left right and centre to distract the masses from his slut era and he’s always like wdym “i have zero rizz and am a bitchless cat dad”?? I know memes?? Remember hawk thua-

ALSO WHENEVER HE REALLY TRIES TO RILE HER UP ON THE PADDOCK AND SHE CANT DO ANYTHING ABOUT IT SHE MAKES HIM DO THE MOST ANNOYING SOCIAL MEDIA CHALLENGES TO GET BACK AT HIM like imagine her making him do a kiss marry kill with the drivers and he’s like 😑😑 and everyone’s like babes come here we got max Verstappen saying he’d kiss Alonso, marry charles and kill George before GTA 2024

ALSO I’m jumping the gun but after he ✨seduces her ✨ there’s so much scope for the classic shenanigans. Accidentally wearing shirts inside out. Accidentally wearing each others Redbull shirt and she could get away with oversized style but everyone’s like “max why tf are u wearing a crop top”. (GP knows. He knows and he can’t look either of you in the eye. Everyone has started asking why he loudly announces himself and waits 10 seconds before walking around the corners of the Redbull garage and he’s like…no reason. But his face is one of a man who has seen many, many things)

Anyway you have ban any contact of sexual nature after that incident that you have dubbed CropTopGate. But obviosuly that just makes max even more feral cause we know how competitive he is 😼

ALSO he’s notorious for going through personal managers as well but once you two start getting tension but you’re still all like “nooo 6 foot driver millionaires aren’t my type okayyyy 🙅‍♀️🙅‍♀️”

So he demands that you be promoted to his personal events manager as well. To which you are adamantly like NO knowing what this means for your poor self control but Christian Horner is like yes maxie boo 🥰 so now you also accompany max to all his lil modelling gigs, looking anywhere but at him while he stands shirtless next to you with a cocky grin.

OR LIKE IMAGINE HE AND A MODEL ARE DOING AN ADVERTISEMENT TOGETHER LIKE ONE OF THOSE SEXY PERFUME ONES. AND DURING A BREAK THE PHOTOGRAPHER NOTICES YOU AND MAX TALKING TOGETHER

and he’s like i don’t care who you are get over here NOW this sexual chemistry is insane so you end up in a very compromising pose up against max verstappen, F1 driver, cat dad, and certified slut while he’s whispering dirty things in your ear

(He catches on quick that you really likes it when he speaks Dutch, good thing you can’t understand it cause he’s just reciting his grocery list and enjoying watching you blush and squeeze your legs together)

very cute idea hehe thank you for messaging!! I LIVE for some sexual tension, reader is a better woman than me for trying to resist the advances of max 😮‍💨😮‍💨

[pedrospatch]

to do the right thing l part iii

Post Outbreak!Joel Miller x Pregnant! Female Reader

series masterlist

summary: You go into labor earlier than expected in the QZ; Joel and Tess help you deliver the baby; after giving birth, you and Joel follow through with a heartbreaking decision.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. BOSTON QZ ERA. ((TW)) PREGNANCY, mentions and references to adoption. mentions of dead bodies, child death (not what you think), descriptions of childbirth. angst. soft, protective Joel.

word count: 7.9k

a/n: Please do not hate me. That is all. (:

June, 2020

 Disposing of the infected was a shity job.

But then again, most of the civilian jobs in the Boston QZ were pretty fucking shitty.

Still. This particular one had to be the absolute shittiest of the shitty.

Having to haul dozens upon dozens of dead bodies, the accidental inhale of soot and smoke even through your makeshift mask, not to mention, the nauseating smell of burning human flesh—you’d hated getting assigned to this work detail before, but now that you were only just a few weeks shy of being nine months pregnant, it felt like actual fucking hell on earth. And, to make matters even worse, Joel had been asked by one of the officials to head over to a different site and work a different job at the very last minute. He wasn’t by your side to lend you a hand like he usually did. Before being forced by authorities to leave the site, Joel instructed you to find a familiar face and do whatever you could do to get someone to help you when you needed it.

Luckily, on the other side of the open fire pit, you’d spotted Kevin. A younger man in his early twenties, you knew Kevin was something of an avid pill popper and one of Joel’s secret regulars. In exchange for a couple of oxycodone pills that you produced from the pockets of Joel’s jacket you were wearing, he had agreed to help you haul the heavier bodies and toss them in the fire pit.

“You know, you used to be real strong,” Kevin mused out loud as he took the shoulders of a heftier male body. Through a labored grunt, he continued, “You never needed anybody's help.”

You narrowed your eyes at him as you took the lower half of the body into your arms, taking subtle care not to strain yourself to the point of hurting yourself—or the baby. “Shut up and move, Kevin.”

“I’m just saying.”

“Seriously, Kevin,” You managed to say to him through gritted teeth as you helped him carry the body. “I’ll throw in another fucking pill if you just shut the fuck up, how about that?”

“Never used to be so cranky, either. Jesus, Miller’s really rubbing off on you, isn’t he?”

Ignoring him, you inhaled a deep breath, exhaling it as you two lifted the body and flung it into the pit. As you turned back towards the canopied pickup truck for the next one, your eyes fell on the tiniest little body that you had ever seen and you simply froze, a chill running up the length of your spine.

While it wasn’t the first time that you’d ever had to dump the body of an infected child, this one had to be the smallest—the youngest. Though his head had been covered with a brown, burlap sack just like the rest of the bodies, anyone with two fucking eyes and half of one brain cell could guess that he was, at most, around the age of a toddler.

“Jesus,” You whispered, noticing the dirty, bloodied white bandage around his teeny little arm. That’s where he’d been infected.

Kevin’s voice came from behind you. “Oh come on, this can’t be your first time seeing a kid, right?”

Your mouth had gone as dry as sandpaper. “I—I’ve never seen one this young,” You told him, feeling your heart sink into your stomach. “He couldn’t have been older than three or something.” Unable to fathom what had to come next, you turned to Kevin and shook your head. “I’ll need you to do this one. I just can’t.”

“Sure thing, sweet cheeks.” He raised an eyebrow and looked around before lowering his voice. “Just as long as you go back home tonight and let that guarddog boyfriend of yours know how much I helped you out, you know, since he wasn’t around to do it himself.” He paused, his beady, dark little eyes twinkling in sheer delight. “Maybe a two for the price of one discount during our next business transaction would be an appropriate way for him to show me some gratitude?”

If Joel could see the smirk on Kevin’s face, he’d knock it right off with his fist.

“Greedy motherfucker, aren’t you?” You muttered under your breath, before finally nodding your head in agreement. “Fine. I’ll make sure Joel hooks it up on your next deal.” Fat chance of that happening.

Satisfied, Kevin grinned and pushed past you, picking up the child’s body.

Unable to bring yourself to watch him toss it into the roaring flames, you hurriedly walked around to the side of the pickup truck, yanking down the red bandana you used as a mask down from over your nose and mouth. Placing a hand on the side of the truck, you hunched over and closed your eyes for a brief second. “Jesus Christ,” You groaned in a whisper to yourself. “I think I’m going to be fucking sick.”

You half expected to toss your afternoon crackers right there onto the pavement in front of you. However, instead, just a split second later, you felt a sudden cramp in the middle of your pelvis—subtle, but still enough to make you wince. It was immediately followed by a feeling of intense pressure between your legs. Before your mind could even wrap itself around what was happening, there was a gush between your thighs, and warm liquid started trickling down the sides of your legs.

Shit.

Terrified, you glanced down.

Though they were dirty, you could distinctly see the wet patches on your faded, dark blue jeans. “No, no, no. This can’t be happening. It’s too fucking early—”

“Hey! What the hell are you doing over here? Who the fuck said you could stop and take a break?” One of the FEDRA officials who had been assigned to stand guard at the work site came up behind you, his weapon gripped tightly in his hands. When you whirled around to face him, his eyes fell and instantly noticed your soaked jeans. A look of disgust crossed his face. “Jesus. Did you just fucking piss yourself?”

“No—” You stopped yourself, realizing this could be your ticket out of there. “Yeah,” You replied, nodding your head, causing him to let out a repulsed noise. “Sorry. I just saw a little kid, must have made me—”

He held up one of his hands, stopping you. “Save it. I don’t give two shits,” he told you with a shake of his head. “Get your ass home right now and change your clothes, then come back. Make it quick. There’s still a lot of work to be done around here. Understood?”

You nodded again. The muscles in your pelvic area tightened and the feeling drew the tiniest of sharp breaths from you—your contractions were starting. “Yeah,” You managed to say to the official, keeping a straight face. “I’ll be back as fast as I can.”

He dismissively waved you away with his weapon and then stalked off back over to his post.

Letting out a small sigh of relief, you turned on your heel and started to make your way back to the apartment as quickly as possible.

Although the building was about a mile and a half up the road, it felt like you were trekking your way across the fucking country. You felt two more contractions along the way, and while their intensity was still pretty low in such an early stage of your labor, they still hurt like hell. They started around your lower back and gradually moved around to the front of your pelvis. You tried to push past the discomfort in order to get home as quick as possible, but every now and again, you found yourself having to stop in the middle of the sidewalk for just a brief second or two, only long enough to recollect and remind yourself that you needed to get a goddamn grip before someone noticed your strange behavior. Once the building finally came into your view, all you could do was silently pray that by some fucking miracle, Joel would be up there in that apartment, home from work detail.

Your prayer went unanswered.

When you opened the door to your quarters and walked inside, you’d found Tess home by herself. She was sitting at the table, sipping on a glass of whiskey and mindlessly flipping through a decades old newspaper.

“Tess,” You said her name, causing her to look up. “Where’s Joel?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“It’s fucking happening.”

Tess stared at you, her eyes widening slightly. “Wait, what?”

“The baby’s coming,” You informed her, pointing down to your damp jeans. Though you were panicking on the inside, you tried your best to remain as calm as humanly possible. “Where the fuck is Joel?”

Tess tossed aside her newspaper and stood up from the table. “I told you, I don’t know. I know he was reassigned but I’m not sure where—he sure as hell wasn’t with me.” She walked over to you, taking you by the elbow. She pulled you over towards the couch and helped you sit down. “I thought you said it would be at least a few more weeks before the baby came.”

You couldn’t help but shoot her an annoyed look. “Well, he’s coming now, Tess. And there’s nothing I can do to stop it.”

“How long ago did it start?”

“About half an hour ago, maybe. I was at the pits and my water broke after I saw—” You trailed off, deciding the details of what you had seen back at the work site weren’t necessary to disclose to her. “I’ve had a couple of contractions, but they’re pretty far apart.”

“It could be several hours before the baby comes, but there’s still no fucking way that we’ll be able to get you over to Bill and Frank’s in time.” Tess chewed anxiously on her bottom lip as she wracked her brain for any other possible options—it took her mere seconds to realize that there weren’t any other options. “You’re going to have to give birth here.”

“Fantastic,” You deadpanned, leaning back into the couch.

“Okay, here’s the deal. You stay put and I’m going to go out and find Joel. I know there’s a couple of places where he might have been assigned and if I’m right, I can be back with him quickly.” Tess pulled off her watch from her wrist. It was old and cracked, but otherwise, it still worked fine. “I need you to time your contractions. Try and be as accurate as possible.” She then reached into the back pocket of her jeans, producing a red handkerchief.  She handed it to you along with the watch. “Listen. I know it’s going to hurt like hell, but you need to be as quiet as possible. Last thing we need is for someone to hear you and come running in here, especially while I’m gone. If you need to, you bite down on this to keep quiet, alright?”

You swallowed harshly, taking both of the items with nearly trembling fingers. “Alright.”

“Don’t worry. I’m going to find Joel and we’ll be back,” she promised you. “You stay right here, okay?”

“Because I’m such a fucking flight risk right now?”

“Even during labor, you’re still a fucking smartass, huh?” Tess rolled her eyes and reached for her jacket. 

You watched her as she readied herself to take off. “Tess?”

“Yeah?”

“Hurry. Please.”

“Fuck,” You hissed, both of your hands planted on your lower back as you paced back and forth in the kitchen, trying your best to breathe your way through another contraction.

 It had been over an hour and a half and Tess still hadn’t returned with Joel.

Your labor was progressing a lot quicker than you’d anticipated and while it could still be at least a couple more hours before the baby was born, you were still terrified at the mere thought of having to deliver him alone. You needed Joel—you didn’t want to have to do this without him.

“Jesus, fuck,” You cursed through clenched teeth. The waves of pain that were coming at you were almost enough to physically knock you off of your feet and right onto your ass. Tess had been smart to give you her handkerchief. During one particularly painful contraction, you’d shoved it into your mouth, muffling your cries of agony.

Another hour had passed and you were genuinely starting to believe that you were indeed going to have to give birth to the baby all alone in that apartment. “Where the fuck are you guys?” You mumbled to yourself. Perhaps something had happened to them—Joel and Tess had spent ample amounts of time in FEDRA lockup for the stunts that they pulled and it wouldn’t surprise you if they had gone and done something stupid, putting themselves behind bars for the night.

In an attempt to keep your mind from continuously wandering to worst case scenarios, you walked over to the kitchen sink and quickly filled up a large, chipped porcelain bowl with water. You rummaged around for the cleanest washcloth that you could find and then picked up the bowl in your hands, taking care not to spill as you hastily made your way around the single wall that divided the kitchen from the bedroom. You placed the bowl of water on top of the old, cherrywood dresser that separated yours and Joel’s bed from Tess’s bed and immediately started peeling off your dirty clothes. Wanting to hurry before another contraction came along, you dipped the cloth into the water and started running it all over your body, wiping away any soot and dirt that you’d brought home from the work site.

After you had finished cleaning yourself off as best as you possibly could under the circumstances, you searched through the drawers and grabbed one of Joel’s cleaner t-shirts, tugging it over your head. Even with the size of your swollen midsection, his shirt still fit you loosely enough, the hem of it falling to the top of your thighs. You’d finished just in time—another contraction starting coming on and you dropped down onto the bed, gripping the edge of the mattress as you hunched over in a world of hurt. “Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

As it subsided, the sound of the front door opening caused your head to snap up and your heart to skip a beat. Had you been too loud? Or perhaps a neighbor had walked by and heard you?

“Baby?” Joel’s deep voice filled the small apartment. When he appeared around the wall and saw you, a look of utter relief crossed his face and he rushed over to you, Tess following behind him. He crouched down in front of you, both of his hands flying up to the sides of your face. “M’sorry darlin’, I got here as fast I could—”

Though you could have nearly cried from happiness that he was right there in front of you, you found yourself snapping at him, “What took you so fucking long? It’s been fucking hours!”

Tess jumped to Joel’s defense. “I’m sorry, it’s on me! It’s my fault. It took me forever just to fucking find his ass and then we had to find a way to sneak him away from the work site without anyone noticing,” she explained, holding her hands up. “Not to mention, he was on the other end of the fucking QZ. We got here as fast as we could—how far apart are they coming?”

You winced. The truth was, you’d been so busy trying to get through the contractions that you hadn’t been timing them at all. “About that.”

“Are you fucking kidding me? I gave you one fucking job—”

“Look, they’re still decently far apart by a few minutes.” You placed a hand on your stomach, suddenly admitting, “But I do feel the urge to push already.”

Joel’s hands slowly dropped from your face and he glanced over his shoulder and up at Tess, looking confused. “Think it’s time?”

She shook her head. “I know it’s going to feel like you need to push as you get closer, but don’t,” she warned you, firmly. “Not yet. They need to come closer together, about a minute to thirty seconds apart. If you start to push too early, you could hurt the baby. Or tear yourself apart.” Tess took off her jacket, tossing it on a nearby chair. “Joel, keep her as comfortable as you can. I’m going to start gathering some supplies. She may not be ready to push now, but I’m thinking within the hour, it’ll be time.”

“Within the hour?” You nearly squeaked.

Joel turned back to you and cupped your face again. The familiarity of his rough, calloused hands on your skin brought some calmness, not enough to completely take your fears away, but just enough that you were able to stay somewhat level headed, even through every single emotion that you were feeling. “Baby, I know you're scared,” he said, his thumb grazing against your cheek. “But I promise you, everythin’ is gonna be just fine, alright? Look at me, right here, look at me,” he urged as he held your face firmly in his hands, forcing you to meet his gaze. “You’re gonna be fine. I won’t let anythin’ happen to you.”

“Joel, it’s childbirth,” You reminded him, smiling wearily. “Don’t make a promise you don’t know if you can actually keep.”

Though he knew deep down inside that you had a point, he repeated himself. “I won’t let anythin’ happen to you. Okay?”

You offered him a small, meek nod. “Okay.”

Joel lifted himself, pressing his lips gently to yours. He pulled away, murmuring against your lips, “That’s my girl.”

The hour that followed had been nothing short of horrific—the pain had become almost unbearable by this point. There wasn’t a single inch of your entire body that wasn’t drenched, soaked in perspiration. Your hair was an absolute mess, plastered to your forehead and to the sides of your face. Tess sat on her bed, waiting on standby for when it was time to deliver. Meanwhile, Joel, could only hold your hand in his and watch helplessly as you tried not to cry out too loudly.

“Joel,” You nearly pleaded his name, as if pleading for him to take his gun and put you out of your misery.

“I know, baby, I know,” he murmured soothingly, squeezing your hand in both of his. “I know it hurts.”

“What if I can’t do this?”

“Sorry, sweet darlin’ but you don’t have much of a choice,” he reminded you. He looked and sounded so fucking tired, so fucking exhausted—and he was. He was exhausted from having to sit there and witness you hurt while there wasn’t a goddamn thing he could do about it.

Once the contractions started coming in at less than a minute apart, Tess checked you. “I can feel the head. It’s time to start pushing,” she announced. Rolling up the sleeves of her shirt up to her elbows, she started giving you instructions. “You’re going to bear all the way down into your bottom as hard as you can. We’ll do ten second counts with short, quick rests in between each push until he comes out. Alright?”

You just about panicked. “Joel—”

“M’right here,” he quickly assured you. “Not goin’ anywhere.”

During the process, Joel had decided to sit behind you, his long legs on either side of you as he held you up at just a couple degrees shy of a ninety degree angle. Tess kneeled on the mattress between your legs, holding your knees apart as she counted through each push out loud for you.

You sank your front teeth hard into your bottom lip, the coppery taste of blood filling your mouth as you tried your hardest from screaming out.

“One, two, three, four—” Tess counted the numbers aloud until she reached the number ten. She watched you as you released a breath, and tapped your knee gently. “Come on, we’re almost there. He’s right there, you’re so fucking close. The harder you push, the quicker this will all be over. So give me one more big, strong push, alright?”

Joel squeezed your shoulders, his lips at your ear as he whispered to you over and over again, “C’mon baby, we’re almost there. It’s almost over.”

You were completely spent, exhausted both physically and mentally beyond what mere words could even explain. Close or not, you simply didn’t have it in you to keep going.

“I’m sorry, I can’t,” You moaned, shaking your head as you slumped back against his chest, your head falling into his shoulder. Your body felt like it was just moments away from giving out on you. “I can’t do it, Joel. I just can’t fucking do this—”

“You can and you fucking will,” Tess all but snapped at you, forcing your knees further apart. “Come on, all I need is one more push. Just one fucking more.”

“But—”

“Baby, please,” Joel begged into your neck. “You have to do this.”

You whimpered. They were right—you didn’t have a choice.

“Okay. One more.” You gave a small, weak nod of your head.

Joel helped you sit back up into the previous position, using his body to help support yours. He kissed the back of your head, his hands on your shoulders again. “Good girl,” he praised, bracing himself to help you through the tail end of the delivery.

“Alright, let’s do this.” Tess positioned herself, her hands ready to receive the baby once he was born. “On the count of three. One, two, three—and push. Come on, that’s it. Come on.” Squeezing your eyes shut, you followed her encouraging words, bearing down as hard as you could muster while Joel counted you through that last strenuous push. “Baby’s out!” Tess nearly cried, and you quickly opened your eyes to see her holding the baby in her arms. 

“Is he okay?” You panted, your chest heaving as you fought to catch your breath. Only mere seconds had passed, but already you found yourself in a state of anxiety over the fact that the baby hadn’t made a single sound yet. “He hasn’t cried—why hasn’t he cried?”

“She,” Tess corrected you, her eyes fixed on the newborn as she worked to clean her off with a damp washcloth. She rubbed her chest in quick, firm circles in an attempt to get her to take her first breath.

Your heart skipped a beat—you’d had a girl?

Behind you, Joel inhaled sharply, his body stiffening.

You watched in concern, your lips parted slightly at the sight before you. Not having the proper tools to clear the child’s airway, Tess tried everything and anything that she could think of to help the baby breathe. As the seconds turned into a minute, and then into two, your heart had all but climbed its way up your throat—never had you heard a silence so deafening.

“Tess,” Joel said her name, his tone dangerously low.

“Fuck Joel, I’m trying here!” Tess snapped at him. She let out a small, frustrated sigh and then turned the baby over onto her forearm. She started patting the infant’s back with her opposite hand. “Come on, sweetheart. Come on, you’re alright. Please breathe. Please—”

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the baby sputtered and let out a wet cough before a small, quick cry filled the entire apartment. 

“Fuck,” You breathed out in complete and utter relief. You sagged back against Joel, who’d also released the breath he’d been holding.

“Shh,” Tess soothed her, flipping the baby back over and bouncing her in her arms in an attempt to quiet her.  

Joel carefully climbed out from behind you, helping you to lean back, up against the wall. “You alright?”

“Better now that I know she’s okay.”

“She’s small, definitely at least a couple of weeks premature, but she looks healthy,” Tess observed. She single handedly clamped the cord, cutting it with a pair of sharp shears before she finished cleaning her off. She reached for the flannel throw blanket next to her, however upon picking it up, she had realized it wasn’t a blanket at all. It was Joel’s flannel jacket, the very same one that you’d worn for most of your pregnancy. But it had been washed the day before and it would do for the time being. Tess wrapped the baby in the jacket before easing her into your arms. Knowing that you’d never held a baby before, Tess reached out and maneuvered your arms, making sure that you were holding her properly, supporting her head and neck. “That’s it. There you go.”

Your heart swelled to twice its normal size inside of your chest and an inexplicable warmth radiated throughout every fiber of your being the moment you laid your eyes on her sweet, tiny little face. “Hi, there,” You cooed gently to her. “Welcome to the shitshow.”

Tess chuckled, crossing her arms over her chest. “Son of a bitch. We fucking did it.”

“What the hell do you mean we?” You rolled your eyes in a joking manner. The truth of the matter was that you would forever be in her debt for all that she had done to help you, not just through childbirth—through everything. 

You then glanced over at Joel, who stood silently behind her, hands planted on his hips.

He said nothing, but his dark brown eyes were glued to the newborn.

Tess cleared her throat lightly, breaking the momentary silence that had suddenly fallen over the three of you. “I’ll give you a minute to take a breather while I go clean myself up. I’ll be back to show you how to feed her.”

She excused herself, heading off towards the kitchen.

Joel shuffled awkwardly from foot to foot. “You—uh, you sure you’re alright?”

“Mhm,” You replied with a nod, unable to contain the small smile that crossed your lips as you drank in the sight of the beautiful baby girl in your arms. She had been born with a head full of dark hair—instantly, she reminded you of Joel. “She’s so little.”

Joel said nothing.

Looking up, you noticed the way his eyes took her in—the same way yours did. 

Part of you almost wanted to ask him if he wanted to hold her.

But you knew better.

“We’ll radio Bill and Frank tomorrow in the morning to let them know she’s here ,” Tess said, coming back into the room. She used a damp cloth to wipe away the blood and other fluids from her forearms. “As soon as you’re able to move, you’ll have to get her over to them.”

Your face fell slightly. “Wait, how soon are we talking?”

“Thinking maybe in a couple days—soon as you can walk.”

Your heart sank deeply into your chest.

Just a couple of days? 

That’s all you would get with her?

Noticing the crestfallen expression on your face, Joel nodded. “Tess is right,” he agreed. “We can’t hide a cryin’ baby in this apartment for too long without someone catchin’ on. The sooner we get her over to Bill and Frank’s, the better.”

You somehow managed to swallow the lump of emotion that had risen in your throat as you looked back down at her tiny face—your daughter’s tiny face.

“Think of a name for her yet?” Tess asked you, tossing her dirty cloth aside.

Joel quickly stepped in and answered for you. “Best you don’t.”

“What?” You stared at him in disbelief. Although neither of you had discussed it, you’d thought that at the very least Joel would allow you to name your child—his child.

“The less attached you are to her, the better.” His tone was short, almost curt. “Less harder it’ll be.”

Even Tess was taken by surprise. “Joel, come on. Are you fucking seri—?”

He held up a hand to stop her. Whirling around on the hell of his boot, Joel said over his shoulder as he left the room, “I’ll be outside. Need some air.”

Your lips pressed together in a thin, tight line. “I guess he’s right.”

The mattress squeaked, shifting slightly as Tess took a seat right next to you on the bed. “You know it’s going to hurt him too,” she told you, quietly. “He’ll never admit it. But when the time comes, it’ll hurt him too.”

“I know,” You whispered, grazing the baby’s cheek lightly with the tip of your index finger.

“Joel loves you, you know.”

Tess’s words caught you by surprise. “Tess—don’t. You don’t need to do this.”

She laughed in spite of herself. “You know, I never thought that man could be capable of loving anyone else ever again, not in this life. Hell, I tried for fucking years just to get him to feel a fraction of what I felt for him and nothing.” Her voice became thick with the emotions that she’d undoubtedly been suppressing for the last few years. “I don’t know what is about you, what drew him to you. But he does love you. More than fucking anything.”

“He’ll probably never admit that either.”

Tess smiled sadly. “I know.”

The five hour trip on foot from the Boston QZ to Lincoln was one that you had gotten used to over the last couple of years, but this trip had been something of a struggle for you, to say the very least.

Between being only a couple of days postpartum, having to make frequent stops to feed the baby, and having her strapped tightly to your chest in a makeshift baby carrier—which in reality was actually just a bedsheet that wrapped around your upper body—you felt quite worn out by the time you and Joel finally made it to Bill and Frank’s.

“Come in, come in,” Frank placed a hand gently on your back as he ushered you inside of the house. “How are you doing? Are you okay?” He tossed a little glare over his shoulder at Joel. “Shame on you for making her walk three days after giving birth! Surely you could have waited at least a few more days before making the trip?”

Joel let out a small, impatient huff and rolled his eyes in response.

“We didn’t wanna risk being caught with her,” You quickly explained as he led you both into the living room. “Our walls are paper thin and she cries real loud. We didn’t wanna risk having the neighbors reporting us to FEDRA.”

“She’s a crier?” Bill, who kept his distance, scoffed. “Great.”

“Oh, stop it, Bill. I’m sure she’ll be a very good baby,” Frank waved his hand dismissively at him. 

“Can you guys help me unwrap?” You asked, lightly tugging at the sheet. “This thing is so uncomfortable.”

Both Joel and Frank helped untie and remove it from around your body.

“Oh my word.” Frank’s hand flew to his mouth and tears instantly welled in his eyes as soon as saw her. “I never thought I’d see—” He trailed off, but you knew what he meant. He never thought he’d see another child ever again, much less a newborn baby. Frank knew better than to overstep or to push you too quickly, and despite his immediate urge to ask you if he could hold her already, he simply settled for lightly touching his fingertips to her tufts of soft, dark hair. “Oh, she’s so beautiful! Isn’t she beautiful, Bill?”

“Looks like an ordinary baby to me,” he grumbled, though as he eyed the child, there was a strange little glint in his eye. Bill, like Frank, also never thought that he’d ever see something like her again.

Frank sniffed, dabbing his tears away with the back of his hand. “Oh! I have some onesies from the boutique, let me grab one for you,” he stated, realizing that the baby was naked, with the exception of the improvised diaper you had her in. “She’s kind of small, even for a newborn. Do you think she came early?” He asked over his shoulder as he walked over to the other side of the room towards a pile of cardboard boxes. “I know it’s hard to tell what week you reached gestation.”

“We think so,” You said, carefully taking a seat on the couch. “She’s small, but she’s healthy. She eats well, she mostly sleeps through the night unless she wakes up hungry or needing to be changed.”

“Here.” Frank walked back over to you and handed you a cream colored onesie printed with yellow sunflowers. He also handed you a matching cloth diaper. “They’re preemie size, but I have a box of newborn sizes too if they’re too snug on her. You let me know what you think is best, alright?”

It didn’t take you very long to realize that Frank was allowing you just a taste of what it was like to properly and normally care for your baby, just like any mother would in a pre-outbreak world. 

Part of you wished that he wouldn’t bother, but you still appreciated his kindness nonetheless.

Frank laid a soft, pink blanket on the couch for you to lay her on.

As you changed her, you felt Joel watching almost intently.

Since she’d been born, he still hadn’t held her. You didn’t take offense to it, nor did it hurt your feelings that he refused to touch her, because you knew how he was feeling—what he was feeling. You would often catch him stealing long, lingering glances at her whenever he’d think you weren’t paying attention. Deep down in your heart, you knew he ached to interact with her, that he wanted nothing more than to take her into his arms and give into his paternal instincts. But he was simply trying to make this process as painless for himself as possible. Joel didn’t want to risk developing any kind of attachment to her. 

“Does she have a name?” Frank asked, holding his hands behind his back as he watched you button up the onesie. At this point, he was itching to hold her for the first time, but he wanted to respect what little time you had left to interact with her.

Sure, you would be able to see her every now and again, but Joel was adamant of keeping visits to a minimum.

“She doesn’t,” You replied in a soft voice. “We didn’t name her.”

Joel, who had taken a seat in the rocking chair next to the couch, raked a hand through his hair as Frank shot him glare, as if he knew whose idea it had been to not give her a name. “S’only right for you two to choose a name. We ain’t got no business givin’ her a name.”

“He’s right,” You said, before Frank could protest. “It’s best we leave that to you and Bill.”

Frank touched your shoulder. The sympathy in his eyes nearly made you burst into tears on the spot. Wanting to allow for a brief change of subject, he offered, “How about we all have a bite to eat? Hmm? Surely you must be starving after that long walk.”

You forced a small smile. Food was the last thing on your mind. “That would be nice,” you fibbed. 

For the rest of the afternoon, you refused to put the baby down.

Your arms ached from holding her for so long—but you couldn’t care less. It was one ache that you would happily deal with for the rest of your natural born life if it meant never having to let her go.

Frank had been completely understanding of your desire to keep her with you for as long as you possibly could. Being the incredibly sweet, kind soul that he was, he showed you nothing but patience and didn’t question you, nor did he push you or grill you on whether or not you had changed your mind about leaving her in their care. Bill, being Bill, had muttered a few, passive aggressive incoherencies towards you under his breath over lunch—something about how for someone who claimed they wouldn’t have a problem giving up their baby, you sure as hell seemed to have a hard time letting her out of your grasp.

However, once the late afternoon finally rolled around, you knew that the time for you to say goodbye was on the horizon. As much as you fucking wished you could, there was no changing your mind, not if you wanted your daughter to live safely, happily.

“Bill? Frank? Do you think we can have a minute with her, just the two of us?” You asked them. You had all moved back into the living room after lunch. Knowing time was running out, you hoped that you and Joel could have one last moment alone with her before it was time to leave.

“Of course.” Frank nodded and tugged on Bill’s arm. “We’ll be out in the front yard—the plants need some watering.”

You shot him a tiny, grateful smile. As they disappeared, you leaned back into the couch and made yourself comfortable with the baby.

Joel, who sat over in the rocking chair as he had earlier, pursed his lips. “Don’t make this harder than it needs to be,” he said, shaking his head at you. “We really should just hand her over and go home.”

“It’s going to be hard no matter what, Joel. May as well enjoy her for a while longer.” You glanced down at her just as she started fussing herself awake. She looked up at you with her dark eyes. “Hello, sweet girl,” You greeted her in a soothing voice as she cooed. 

Joel watched with a heaviness in his heart as you kissed the infant’s cheek delicately. How he wished you would just fucking listen to him.

“You’re going to be safe here,” You told her, lifting your hand to her hair; the ends were beginning to curl slightly. “I know you might grow up and have questions one day, and who knows, maybe when you’re all grown up, you’ll know the truth about everything and you’ll understand why we did what we did.” You paused. “This is the right thing to do, sweet girl. It's the best thing for you. Frank is going to make a great dad, and Bill—well, Bill is Bill. But I know you’ll have him wrapped around your little finger in no time. I promise there’s a softie underneath that grumpy exterior, just have to bring it out of him, is all.” Despite it all, you couldn’t help but laugh a little. 

Joel craned his neck ever so slightly to get a better look at her. “She’s so alert,” he observed. “Y’know, for bein’ a couple days old and all.”

You glanced up at him. Somehow, you mustered up the courage to ask, “Joel? Do you want to hold her?”

Joel hesitated. But you were shocked he didn’t immediately decline.

That meant that he did.

You carefully stood up from the couch and slowly walked over to him. Giving her another kiss on the cheek, you held her out towards him.

Joel looked at her reluctantly, but then gave in and took her into his arms. He leaned his weight back into the chair and started rocking, knowing the movement would be soothing for the baby. “She’s got your nose,” he murmured, watching as the motion started luring her into another slumber.

“That head of hair is all you, though,” You told him with a tiny, sad smile. “I’m going to go get a glass of water from the kitchen. I’ll be right back.”

Moments later, when you’d returned, you stopped in your tracks out in the hallway when you heard Joel speaking. Furrowing your brows, you leaned your back against the wall and listened in to what he was saying.

“Hi babygirl,” he started, his voice low but gentle. “Everythin’ your mama just told you, well, she’s right. We’re doin’ this to keep you safe. We wanna give you a chance at a decent life. She doesn’t wanna give you up. Neither do I,” he confessed. “But we can’t—I can’t keep you safe. I can barely keep your mama safe most of the time, y’know.”

You hung your head, willing yourself to hold back the tears.

“I didn’t want you, at least not at first,” Joel continued to say, an ever so slight tremble to his voice. “Thought you were the biggest mistake we ever could’ve made. But now that you’re here and I’m holdin’ you in my arms, I realize I was wrong. I’m glad you’re here, babygirl. This world is ugly, but you remind me that there’s still beauty in it. Not a whole lot, but just enough to shine a little light in the darkness.”

Joel paused and as you peeked around into the living room, you saw him press his lips carefully to her cheek, right where you’d kissed her too. “You won’t be ours after today, but that doesn’t really matter. At the end of the day, you’re always gonna hold a place in my heart. Right next to your big sister. Alright?”

A tear slipped down your cheek, and you quickly wiped it away with the back of your free hand. As soon as you were certain that he’d said all he had needed to say, you walked into the living room and offered him a sip of your water, behaving as if you hadn’t just heard him pour his heart out to his baby daughter. Joel moved over onto the couch with you and for the next couple of hours, the two of you took turns holding her. By the time early evening arrived, you realized that you and Joel were really pushing it. And knowing Bill, you were absolutely overstaying your welcome.

“So, we just wanted to check in with you two,” Frank said tentatively, nervously wringing his hands together as walked into the room with a very unhappy Bill trailing behind him. “It’ll be getting dark soon.”

You and Joel stood from the couch; he handed the baby over to you.

Your heart lodged in your throat, you walked over to Frank and eased her into his arms. “Here you are.”

Taking a step backwards, you watched as he looked down at her, his face beaming.

“Fatherhood looks good on you,” You couldn’t help but tell him. And you meant it.

Frank was going to make the most incredible, loving father. 

“Does it?” Although he was smiling, he sounded nervous.

“You’re going to be a natural,” You touched his arm lightly. “We know she’s going to be in the best possible care.” Dropping your hand back down to your side, you glanced over at Joel, who stood there silently, his jaw clenched. “We’d better be going.”

“You know you’re more than welcome to come and see her whenever you’d like,” Frank offered. “We really wouldn’t mind that.”

“Don’t take that too literally,” Bill gruffed behind him. “The less visits, the better.”

You nodded, your voice cracking slightly as you said, “We know.”

“Let’s get a move on.” Joel nudged you lightly with his elbow. Did you just hear his voice break a little too?

After one final goodbye, about five minutes later, you and Joel found yourselves on the other side of the fence.

Joel noticed the expression on your face. He could see you crumbling right in front of his very own eyes like a pastry. He didn’t know what to say or do to make it better—hell, he knew nothing was going to make it better. He wanted so badly to reach out and put his arms around you, but he was afraid that one touch would cause you to come undone. “C’mon, we need to get movin’ before it gets too late or we’ll freeze our asses off,” he reminded you quietly. He started leading the way, but turned around when he realized you weren’t following behind him. “Baby—”

And just like that, the sob you’d been fighting finally escaped you.

“I’m sorry, Joel,” You quickly shook your head, trying desperately to stop the tears, but it was too late.

“Don’t be sorry, it’s alright—”

Before Joel could reach out for you, you sank down to your knees on the gravel. You placed your hands over your mouth, trying to muffle the sound of your cries. You knew it would be hard, but nothing could have prepared you for the god awful feeling of leaving Bill and Frank’s empty handed, without your baby daughter in your arms.

Joel sighed softly and crouched down beside you, pulling you into his arms. “Shh, baby. I know,” he tried soothing you, one hand around your shoulders and the other gingerly stroking your hair. “I know.”

Though nightfall was fast approaching, he didn’t push you. He simply held you until you eventually ran out of tears and little hiccups were all that was left. “I’m so sorry.”

“Stop fuckin’ sayin’ you’re sorry,” Joel said, squeezing your body against his to keep you warm against the chilly, evening breeze. “You have nothin’ to be sorry for, alright?”

“It hurts. I know we did the right thing, but it hurts so fucking bad.”

Joel pulled away and looked down at you. The sadness was evident in his gaze. “We did do the right thing. She’s going to be safer here than she could ever be with us in the QZ,” he reminded you, as if you didn’t already know that. “At least here, she’ll be well fed. She’ll have running water. She’ll get to enjoy fresh, clean air. She’ll get to run around the front yard and play in the grass. She won’t have to walk home from fuckin’ FEDRA school past a fire pit full of burnin’ bodies every goddamn day.”

“Maybe it’s just me being selfish, but that doesn’t make it hurt any fucking less, Joel,” You confessed, the guilt causing a fresh batch of tears to brim your eyes. “I know we’ll still get the chance to see her every now and again, but it’s not enough. It won’t ever be enough for me.”

He leaned down, leaning his forehead against yours. “I know. Won’t ever be enough for me either.”

You closed your eyes, another tear finding its way down your cheek. “How the fuck are you supposed to go on when you feel like a part of your heart is missing?”

“You just do,” Joel whispered. “You just move on. Try to, anyway.” He rose to his feet and pulled you up with him. “When I lost Sarah, I had nothing. Nobody. Tommy wasn’t someone I could count on, he was too busy thinkin’ he could save the fuckin’ world.” He chuckled bitterly. “So I carried that grief with me for years, all on my own. Like the weight of a thousand bricks strapped to my fuckin’ back.”

“Joel…” You opened your eyes, your gazes meeting together.

He lightly brushed his lips against forehead. “You ain’t alone, darlin’. You have me and I ain’t gonna let you carry this pain alone. You understand me? Never.”

“I know that,” You choked out. 

Joel pulled you against him once again, his arms wrapping themselves around you. 

“I love you.”

It was just above a whisper, barely audible but you’d heard him.

Clutching fistfuls of his jacket, you buried your face into his chest, uttering, “I love you too.”

[auckie]

I think the things that offend me most nowadays in like, smaller interpersonal interactions rather than grand, sweeping trends in culture, are when people chose to not partake in a wide set of things. Like musical close mindedness, or refusal to try different foods from different cultures. Not watching an entire subset of films bc they’re ‘french’. Avoiding reading bc you say you have adhd and it’s too hard. Like dude I get it, I’m busy. I can be picky. Everyone can. But the willful ignorance of closing yourself off to those VAST portions of the human experience, and not having curiosity and a lust to learn and explore art that was made by someone worlds apart from you either in terms of their culture, era, whatever. I dunno man it just pisses me off so bad. I think it’s arrogant. Like oh you’re comfortable in your safe little bubble huh? And you’re enforcing its barriers with the excuse that you’re autistic and have sensory issues. With music made by black people?? lol okay. It is pretty presumptuous for me to assume malicious intent but I think those prejudices are borne from either the comfort of being someone who’s wealthy and probably white not feeling the need to learn past what they think is enough, or it’s a reflection of a society that’s taught you to prioritize what it shills— popular, current (white, depending where you live ig) artists who are making streamlined, easy to digest content. Often when I meet people with these issues they’ll have one particular ‘niche’, and it tends to be like. 70s music. Victorian literature. Anime and Japanese games. But they’re still not really investing beyond the media presented. Like there’s so much more to Japanese culture than liking some cartoons put out between 2010-2020. You don’t gotta become some sorta Einstein who learns the background of every little freak in FGO yeah. But don’t you wanna aim higher? Aren’t you interested in any of the historical figures? And nothings wrong with hopping onto a trend. You read Dracula bc of that Dracula daily thing. Cool! Read more. Some people will say they’re chronically ill or disabled and can’t get outside. That’s okay. The internet is full of things you can read other than fanfiction, YouTube has a shit ton of free music. There’s Wikipedia and free articles online if you have questions about things. Yeah nobody is spending four hours a day looking at the national archives website and studying art history but it’s imbued in the things around you, and youll absorb it ambiently as you go along. you dont have to be a jack of all trades and cover every major genre of every major medium, but it never hurts to try! I really love seeing ppl ask too. Bc it can be kind of humiliating to admit to what seems like some jackass hipster that you’ve never delved into, idk, Serbian films (lol not that one). And hopefully if whoever you’re asking will give you honest good recommendations and not berate you. I’m kind of berate a straw man rn I guess. The hostile tone def doesn’t lend to an atmosphere of sharing but I cannot tell you how many times I’ve rbed anything involving specifically jazz only to see someone rb and add the stupidest comment on the post, or in the tags, or go into my inbox to be like waaah I don’t like jazz bc it’s boring and old and for pretentious hypocrites who hate neurodivergent people! Like what are you TALKING about. Fine if you don’t like it but don’t try and rationalize that as a moral standing you shit lark. And just as they’re allowed to dislike jazz I’m allowed to not really enjoy people who don’t like jazz. Or country. Nautical knots. Knit wear. Watching urbex YouTubers get their shit rocked by squatters. Korean food. Pachuco fashion and stupid ugly low riders. Bollywood films. and they don’t want to try any of those things either yknow? The next thing I’m getting into is circuit bending.

[vinceaddams]

Top 5 historic clothing items we should bring back into style (stockings on men, big cuffs on coats etc.)

Well I am very biased, because my everyday clothes are mostly 18th century menswear inspired, but for a list as short as 5 it's good to narrow it down!

1. 18th century shirts. Big puffy soft linen shirts. Best shirts. Comfiest shirts. Though tragically, since they get softer with more washing, they're at their absolute most comfortable right before they wear out.

(This one's from the post where I copied the tiddy-out violinist painting.) Besides being the nicest softest comfiest, they're also the most economical, being made entirely from rectangles. And they're versatile, they look good with lots of different garments! Someday I will do a very detailed youtube tutorial for my machine sewn shirt method. I've done so many now that I think I've finally got it down.

2. Adjustable waistbands. Why did this ever stop being a thing? 18th century breeches have lacing at the back, then in the 19th century trousers have a buckle tab. Now they do not, even though we're all still humans with bodies that change. (These are my orange silk breeches)

Do you know how many hours of my life I've spent taking in or letting out the waist seams of modern trousers? I don't know either, but I've been an alterations tailor since 2019, so it's got to be a fair amount.

All that waist altering wouldn't be necessary if they still made them adjustable! Waistlines fluctuate, so too should waistbands!!

3. Shoulder capes attached to coats. This was a thing in the late 18th century, and in the 19th, and I think into the early 20th too. It adds extra protection from the rain and snow, and it looks cool.

(c. 1812, The Met.)

(c. 1840-60, MFA Boston. The cape on this one is detachable)

You can make them long or short, and stack them up like pancakes or just have one. I've got 2 small ones on my corduroy coat, and one on my dark blue wool. Both cut from almost the same 1790's-ish pattern.

I also want to give a shoutout to fitted sleeves! I love me some two piece sleeves with a distinct elbow! And the coat pockets were bigger back then.

4. Indoor caps. I don't care what era or how fancy you go with it, I just want people to wear caps indoors when it's cold! This one's super simple, it's just a tube of linen tied with a ribbon.

(Detail from Le Marchand d’Orviétan ou l’opérateur Barri by Etienne Jeaurat, 1743.)

If it's cold in your apartment you need slippers for the feets and a cap for the head. Speaking of which.

5. Medieval hoods. This one is wayyy outside my usual era, but the wintery below-freezing weather has just started here and the knit hat I've been wearing isn't quite long enough to cover my ears. I want to make a simple hat with ear flaps, but I also wouldn't be opposed to trying to work something vaguely similar to this into my wardrobe. It looks so warm!

(Image source. Also she has a printable pattern available!) I actually made one of these once, an entire decade ago. But it was scratchy blanket wool and I've since given it away.

That's some of the main things I think we should bring back! There are lots of other things too, like men's nightgowns, and waistcoats with little scenes embroidered on them, but for this list I tried to be mostly practical.

[dreamwritesimagines]

Garden of Secrets [37] - Amaranth

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback and support my loves, it made my whole week, you’re amazing!❤ I hope you’ll like this chapter as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think, thank you! ❤

Summary: Art lasts forever.

Warnings: Regency era society and social rules, some gender specific language and terms, mentions of sex.

Word Count: 3600

Series Masterlist

The first thing you felt through the warmth of peaceful sleep was the blinding sunrays piercing through the darkness, causing you to make a face and wonder why on earth the curtains were open this early—

Oh.

You weren’t in your room.

A smile curled your lips as you shifted closer to Benedict who looked to be still in deep sleep, one arm thrown over his eyes while the other kept you close to his chest even in his sleep. You had found a couple of soil bags last night to use as pillows along with a very old blanket that you suspected they used to carry the said bags, and thrown it over you. You let your hungry gaze wander down from his handsome face to his perfect torso; he looked like a statue one of his idols would sculpt in Renaissance in such an effortless way that even looking at him made your heart skip a beat, your cheeks burning when you remembered last night.

Well, as it turned out Benedict was right.

It felt absolutely divine.

You nibbled on your lip, dragging your eyes away from him to your surroundings. In daylight, the greenhouse looked so beautiful that it felt as if you were in a dream, making you heave a sigh. You slowly pulled away from him, careful not to wake him up and reached for your shift to put it on. It was dry unlike the rest of your clothes but it was so see-through in the sunlight that if it were any other time you would have never thought of walking around just in that, except that—

Well.

Considering last night, it wouldn’t be a scandal.

You bit down a smile and got off the floor, approaching the Middlemist Red. You still couldn’t believe it was yours, after years and years of dreaming of seeing it at least once in some sort of exhibition, now you could see it anytime you wanted in your own greenhouse. You gently caressed the petals with your fingertip, then checked the soil in the pot to see whether it needed water but it was still damp so you figured it could wait until later in the day. You looked around, taking in the sight.

This was actually yours. All of it.

“I thought you left.”

You looked over your shoulder and turned around to look at Benedict better, your heart skipping a beat as you did. He had pulled himself up into a sitting position with the blanket pooled around his waist, his hair messy as he ran his hand through it, that lopsided grin you loved so much playing on his lips. You took a deep breath to snap yourself out of the haze, then leaned back to the shelf.

“Well this is my greenhouse,” you said airily, motioning between you before pointing at him. “So hypothetically, if anyone was to leave…”

He chuckled, his eyes gleaming. “Mm, should I leave then?”

“No,” you said with a grin. “In fact, I don’t think either of us should. Let’s just stay here for the rest of our lives.”

He stretched out his arm as if offering you his hand. “Will you come here please?”

You pretended to think about it, then approached him with a giggle that turned into a squeal when he grabbed you by the waist to pull you to his lap. You wrapped your arms around his neck, your heart slamming against your ribcage as he leaned in to kiss you, making you heave a happy sigh.

“Good morning my love,” he muttered to your lips, stroking your cheekbone and coaxing a smile from you.

“Good morning.”

“Remind me again, why are you wearing clothes?”

You let out a small laugh. “For decorum, obviously,” you teased him. “I mean surely you cannot disagree with propriety, can you?”

“I absolutely can,” he said, stealing a kiss from you as his hand trailed up your leg, pushing the skirt of your shift up, awakening fire on your skin. “To hell with decorum.”

You felt nearly intoxicated as a giggle climbed up your throat and he rolled you over to get on top of you, settling between your legs, holding himself up on one arm to look down at you with a soft smile.

“God, I’ll never be able to paint this…” he murmured and you tilted your head, stroking your fingertips over his chest, right over his heart.

“Well I suppose you’ll have to settle for the feeling rather than the depiction,” you tried to joke, stealing a look at him before the thought hit you, making you furrow your brows. He knew you too well not to notice it, so he pulled back just a little.

“What is it?”

“This doesn’t change things, does it?”

“What do you mean?”

You swallowed thickly, looking up at him.

“You won’t take it back now that I…” you trailed off. “You won’t stop loving me now that I said I love you?”

That fond look appeared in his blue eyes again and he smiled at you, then reached to your hand to rest your palm flat against his chest, letting you feel his strong heartbeat.

“This life and beyond, remember?” he murmured. “I couldn’t stop loving you if I tried.”

You pressed your lips together and he tilted his head.

“You don’t believe me?”

“I do, but I just don’t see how,” you muttered. “I mean I’ve— I’ve been terrible to you.”

“No you haven’t.”

You scoffed. “Ben.”

“What?” he said with a small laugh. “You haven’t.”

“Just yesterday I accused you of cheating on me.”

“I mean it brought us here to this so I’m not complaining,” he said, wiggling his brows and drawing a burst of laughter from your lips.

“No but ever since we met, I’ve been…” you mumbled. “Not nice to you.”

“You were.”

You shot him a look and the corners of his lips twitched upwards.

“It’s a subjective matter.”

You looked around the greenhouse before turning your glances to him. “Can I ask you something?”

“You can ask me anything.”

“Why did you do all this for me when you didn’t even know I was in love with you?”

He frowned slightly, thinking for a moment before shaking his head.

“I didn’t do this so that you would fall in love with me,” he said. “I did it because I want you to be happy. Simple as that.”

You felt as if your heart was melting and you leaned up to kiss him but the sound of a movement by the door reached you, making Benedict roll off you to shield you with his body as soon as the door opened and Mr. Binsted walked in.

“Oh—my apologies!” he exclaimed as soon as his eyes fell on you two, then he looked up, his whole face going red. “Sir. Ma’am.”

“Mr. Binsted,” Benedict said, trying to keep a straight face as if nothing was out of the ordinary while you stayed behind him, your cheeks burning. “Good morning.”

“Hello,” you murmured, still hiding behind Benedict and Mr. Binsted nodded, keeping his eyes on the ceiling.

“Good morning, I’ll just—come back later,” he stammered and left, almost stumbling over his own feet in his haste. You buried your face to Benedict’s shoulder, gripping his arm tightly and letting out a whine while he started laughing.

“Oh my God…” you said. “Oh my God, I can never look him in the eye again.”

Benedict tried to stop his laughter and shook his head, then turned to you.

“Could’ve been worse,” he commented and grabbed you by the waist to get you under him, making you let out a clear laugh despite yourself. “Besides, look on the bright side.”

You raised your brows, still smiling. “And what is that?”

“Well you see my love, now…” he dipped his head to brush his lips against yours, that familiar fire spreading through your veins as his hand pushed your skirt up. “Now we know no one will be disturbing us for a while.”

                                         *

If somebody told you that one day you would have the greenhouse of your dreams, including the rarest flower in the world and you would spend the whole day away from it, you would have laughed in their face.

Yet in your defense, Benedict had a way of convincing you.

It felt like you were put under some sort of spell, that fire only he managed to breathe into life taking over you until the only thing in your mind was him. After leaving the greenhouse, you had every intention of going back once you had some breakfast but before you knew it, you both found yourselves in his bed.

You could not believe you had denied yourself the bliss for so long when you could’ve been doing this for months and more importantly, you couldn’t believe you were still hungry for him even after spending hours in the bed with him, completely lost in the pleasure.

And the worst part? You actually had to step away from his room and from him so that your maid could do your hair for tonight, for Gordon’s gala.

For some reason, every single act except the marital act felt entirely unnecessary to you now that you had gotten a taste of it.

Paula retrieved her hands from your hair, letting you look in the mirror to check your bun and you turned your head, then smiled at her.

“Thank you.”

“Of course ma’am,” she said as you stood up, and put your corset over your shift. She went behind you to put the laces into the hoops but you turned your head when you heard the knock on the door.

“Y/N?”

A bright smile warmed your lips. “Come in Ben!”

The door opened and he stepped inside, and you turned to Paula.

“You may leave, thank you.”

Paula curtsied and left the room, and you grinned at Benedict, leaning back to the vanity.

“You look too handsome,” you said, your lips pulled into a small pout as your gaze wandered over him. Unlike you, he looked very much ready to go outside and attend this gala you two were expected in, yet the only thing you wanted to do was to drag him to bed, outside world be damned.

And judging by the mischievous look in his blue eyes, he shared the sentiment.

“Let’s just skip this one,” he said, approaching you and your jaw dropped, an exaggerated shock clear on your face.

“We made a promise,” you reminded him. “It’s Gordon’s gala.

He hummed, leaning down to kiss you and you giggled, turning around.

“Help me?” you asked airily, watching him on the mirror a playful smirk curled his lips, then his hands went to the laces of your corset. A giddy laugh climbed up your throat as you reached back to grab at his wrist when you realized the corset getting even looser.

“Lace up Ben, not unlace.”

“We can just tell them we had something to do.”

“Lace up,” you teased him with a small smile and he heaved a dramatic sigh, then tugged at the laces, the corset getting tighter around your body. The memory of earlier today flashed before your eyes, with his tight grip around your waist and you felt your cheeks burn, the familiar fire coming to life at your lower stomach.

“You’re killing me, you know that?” he murmured, dipping his head to press a kiss on the crook of your neck and your eyes fluttered close for a moment before you tried to see through the haze of desire, willing yourself to turn around to look up at him.

“I owe Gordon,” you said, playing with the lapels of his jacket. “For coming to my aunt’s ball. Besides, is he not your hero in art?”

“He is,” he said, one hand playing with the front ribbon of your corset absentmindedly and you entwined your fingers with his. He raised your hand to press a kiss on the back of it, making your stomach do a pleasant flip.

“What if his painting tonight is a masterpiece and you miss it?” you taunted him and he scoffed.

“I have the most beautiful masterpiece in front of me right now,” he said. “I’m not interested in anything else.”

A fire swept over your cheeks and stood on your tiptoes to brush your lips against his.

“You remember what you said about me being the death of you?” you asked. “Now to think of it, I think we might have gotten it backwards.”

                                              *

There was no wonder why everyone in the ton was competing rather ruthlessly for the invitations for Gordon’s gala, because as far as you could tell, the guests only consisted of his very close friends. When you and Benedict walked in, you couldn’t help but notice that you had seen most of these people at the parties Benedict had taken you to, which meant the majority of them were artists.

Not that you had any chance to talk to them. Ever since the beginning of the gala, while waiting for Gordon to unveil the painting in the middle of the room, you and Benedict had been inseparable. Perhaps it was good that only a handful of people who were more open about public displays of affection were here with you because if it were any other ball or social outing, you were certain you would have been criticized and made to Lady Whistledown’s newest edition about your lack of decorum, and yet you couldn’t find it in you to care.

This daze you found yourself in his presence didn’t seem to be going away, and thankfully he seemed to have the exact same issue.

“What happens though?” you asked, comfortable in Benedict’s arms while he nuzzled into your hair, his fingertips running up and down your spine while you looked at the paintings on the walls. “There’s the gala, and then they put the painting in a museum straightaway?”

“In Gordon’s case yes,” he said, “It’s already sold I’m guessing.”

“The painting tonight?”

“Mm hm.”

“But it’s the gala.”

“Buyers see it before the ton,” he said with a smile. “And considering how famous he is, I’m willing to bet multiple museums and collectors climbed all over each other to get it, it must’ve been sold within minutes.”  

You let out a breath and looked up at him.

“And are you excited to see it?” you asked. “The painting?”

“If you asked me before yesterday, I would have been,” he admitted. “Now, I don’t care much about it.”

“You’re an artist!”

“I’m a husband as well, and that side of me weighs much more at the moment,” he said and looked around. “You know, I’m quite certain Gordon has guest rooms.”

You tried to contain your laughter. “Shh!”

“No I’m serious, because there’s still time until—”

“Did you two not come here from the same house?” Henry’s voice cut him off, making you and Benedict turn your heads and then Benedict buried his nose to the top of your hair, his arms wrapped around your waist as if you two were alone. “Was there some sort of war and you just got back while I wasn’t looking?”

“Hello Henry.”

“Y/N,” he greeted you back with a teasing smile while Benedict rested his chin on top of your head. “I’m terribly sorry to interrupt this, but I need to borrow him for a moment. Ben, Mr. Allingham is here.”

“Hm?” Benedict asked after a moment as if he was having a hard time focusing just like you and Henry blinked a couple of times.

“Mr. Allingham?” he repeated. “One of the directors of the Academy? Are you—is he alright?”

You bit back a smile and shrugged your shoulders. “Oh I’d say he’s more than alright.”

“Come on, I’ll introduce you,” Henry said, grabbing him by the arm to pull him away from you gently and you covered your lips to hide your grin.

“Henry, I was—”

“With your wife yes, she’ll be there after you’re done talking to Allingham. Artists in love, honestly…” Henry said as they both walked to the other side of the gallery and you looked around, then caught the side of Margery and Lucy. You took a glass of champagne from the footman, then approached them.

“Oh hello Y/N!”

“Hello,” you smiled at them. “Um—terribly sorry to interrupt but I just wanted to thank you, Margery.”

She raised her brows and gave you a small smile. “The surprise?”

“Yes.”

“Don’t mention it,” she said with a wink while Lucy looked between you two.

“What surprise?”

“Benedict had a surprise for Y/N, I happened to know a person who could help,” she said airily. “I’m glad you liked it. Consider it my apology for all those stupid rumors about him and me.”

“It’s beyond me how anyone could ever believe those.” Lucy commented and you shifted your weight, nodding fervently.

“I know,” you said with a scoff, waving a hand in the air. “Complete nonsense, I doubt anyone actually believed it.”

“Ladies and gentlemen, if I could have your attention,” you heard Gordon’s voice and the chatter of the crowd ceased immediately. You saw him making his way to the covered painting in the middle of the gallery and everyone followed him.

“Let’s see the painting first and then I have so much to tell you,” Margery said, squeezing your hand before Lucy winked at you and pulled her towards the rest of the crowd. You felt someone touching the small of your back and Benedict pressed a kiss on your temple.

“Come on,” he said, gently leading you closer to the painting and you entwined your fingers with his, leaning your head to his arm when you came to a stop. Gordon smiled at you two, then cleared his throat and turned to the guests.

“I’ve always thought a painting should speak for itself rather than the artist speaking for it,” he said. “But I feel confident in saying that love continues to inspire each and every one of us, may it be our actions or art. Therefore, I’m glad to share The Artist and the Muse with you.”

With that, he pulled the cover off of the painting and the crowd gasped, a round of applause rising soon after. You tilted your head and stepped closer to the painting, a slight frown furrowing your brows.

There was no wonder Gordon was a living legend in the art world, it was such a beautiful painting that it almost took you by surprise. The two figures in the garden under the moonlight seemed to be in an embrace, their faces hidden but you didn’t even need to see their faces to know that they were in love. You had no idea how Gordon had managed to depict it, but anyone who so much as laid eyes on the painting would be able to tell this was some sort of an escapade from the crowd, as if those figures were the only lovers left in the world.

“How did he…?” Benedict breathed out and you looked up at him.

“He really is insanely talented,” you commented. “I mean I feel as if they’re familiar, I don’t get that feeling from many paintings.”

Benedict turned to look at you better as if trying to see whether you were jesting.

“I mean I’d assume so,” he said. “Considering we’re looking at ourselves.”

Your head shot up. “What?”

“Coleshill Ball,” Benedict said, motioning at the painting. “That’s the garden, that’s…that’s the gown you were wearing. We stepped outside for a moment, remember? Danced in the garden?”

Your jaw dropped as the memory flashed through your mind. Benedict was right, it was all familiar; the garden, the gown, the scenery itself. That was the night where you had apologized to Benedict and you two had danced in the garden, with him holding you close, away from the ton and their nonsense almost like a shelter.

Gordon had told you, way before tonight.

The storm and the shelter weren’t separate things as it turned out.

“Well you two look rather shocked,” Gordon’s voice snapped you out of it and Benedict let out a laugh.

“Gordon, is that…”

“You, yes,” he said. “Not to worry, I will never tell people it’s you. I just happened to be looking out of the window, desperate to get away from the ton and all that chatter and I saw you two dancing and…well, I’m sure you don’t need me to tell you how inspiration works Ben. Y/N, I hope you don’t mind?”

You shook your head fervently.

“No,” you said. “God no, not at all. I…I don’t know what to say, Gordon. It's an honor.”

Gordon bowed his head.

“It’s not the last painting that will have you as its subject I’m sure,” he smiled, nodding in Benedict’s direction. “I’d better go and say hello to Allingham, if you’ll excuse me. Enjoy the gala.”

With that, he walked away from you and Benedict exhaled, still in disbelief. You stepped into his embrace, keeping your eyes on the painting and he dipped his head to kiss the top of your hair.

“You know, Gordon is a legend,” he muttered. “Which means this painting will be gazed upon for centuries.”

“So will yours Ben,” you said as you rested your head on his arm, heaving a sigh. “And I don’t know. I still like your paintings better.”

Chapter 38

[marzipanandminutiae]

You don’t like 1920s, 1940s AND 1950s fashion? Damn what did the mid-century do to you lol. K but seriously why not the 50s? The skirts had volume and were long-ish (at least in high fashion) and blouses were well structured and fitted and often had embroidery or embellishments.

Obviously I don't hate ALL of it; no era is a monolith. But there are a few things these eras have in common that I hate:

The rise of synthetic fabrics, AKA Using Plastic To Make Clothing. We're now at a place in terms of clothing where its actively harder and more expensive to wear natural fibers than to wear clothing made entirely of a substance that leaches into our water, holds odors, makes us sweat more, doesn't generally last as long or admit as much repair over time as most natural textiles, and just Kind of Sucks all around except for a few very specific purposes. Synthetics weren't invented in the 1920s, and natural fibers were common in all of these eras than they are today, but it was definitely increasing amounts of "BUY THESE NEW EXCITING PROGRESSIVE MODERN FABRICS!!!" throughout the early and mid-20th century. Which pisses me off in principle.

Less practical garments unless you lived a very specific lifestyle- namely, access to washing machines and a willingness to launder clothing after just one wear. Modern clothing is just not great unless you have access to very frequent washing (see above re: holding odors more than many natural fibers) and barrier garments to keep sweat away from them and stretch the time between washes aren't a thing anymore for most people. In the eras mentioned, everyone was getting so excited about machine laundry capabilities- and who wouldn't? washing machines ARE a huge boon! no denying that! -that they shifted away from modes of dress designed to minimize the necessity of laundering outer clothes. Except now, with concerns about the aforementioned microplastic leaching from washing machines draining into municipal sewers and less mendable clothing- washing is a huge strain on garments, and wears them out faster if you do it too often -we need to be getting back to the system of having fewer but higher quality garments and washing them less often. Except we can't. Because some idiot in the 1920s said "whoopee nobody will ever need linen combinations or chemises that actually serve a purpose anymore!" and the subsequent decades continued it.

The silhouettes generally do not spark joy for me. 1920s actively makes me fly into a rage and scream into pillows, with the exception of robes de style MAYBE. 1940s...well, let's say there was a reason the New Look was so popular, and that's "no more boxy utility wartime clothes." I will give 1940s the hair prize here, though, because I like it better than any other decade 1920s-50s. I actually DO like the New Look! ...but not its combination with the bullet bra; yikes. This is highly subjective.

Some of the textiles, patterns, colors, and common embellishments used are just not my thing. I don't go in for Bold And Graphic And Geometric anything, usually. With a very very small number of exceptions. Polka dots and florals are also not my thing (unless the florals are on a dark background). Plastic jewelry? Hard pass. ~Fun~ motifs like fruit (except pomegranates which have Goth Appeal), the poodles on a poodle skirt, household objects, transportation, etc? No thank you; reads too Kindergarten Teacher for me. Again, not universal or exclusive to those eras- witness the 1880s chicken-print dress I saw an illustration of once -but more prevalent, to my eyes.

Hair. 1920s bobs make most people's heads look blocks. I love a good bob, but those are not Good in my opinion. 1920s Up Hair is usually meant to mimic a bob. 1930s was only a little bit better. 1940s, as I've said, was skirting the line for me and marginally acceptable. 1950s took us right back to a solid Nope with either short poodle cuts or pageboys as the main options for adult women. An occasional chignon maybe, but nothing else that appeals to me personally. just not great all around.

All of these eras were holier-than-thou about the Victorians and their fashion, which I love, so I'm petty about it. Yes please tell me more about how your plastic bullet bras or potato sack dresses are inherently superior to Grandma's elegant and comfortable long wool skirts with the perfect center back pleating. Oh, the 1860s were the ugliest fashion period ever in your opinion? Fascinating. I am setting your car on fire.

I actually DO like the New Look...which is heavily inspired by mid-19th century fashion, so that's not really any big surprise. Still has the issues with synthetic materials and the end of practical undergarments, though. Also, why stop at mid-calf for everyday skirts? Instep Or Bust You Cowards.

[samdeancrimespree]

there’s something about wincest in the pre-slash era (whenever that is) where i think the dynamic is: one of them does not have sex with men. doesn’t think of them that way, because it feels too dangerous, too easy to slip into those fantasies he keeps locked away. and the other one fucks guys, but only ones who are eerily similar, carbon copies to his brother. the type of resemblance that would turn most siblings off. and the roles could go either way, for either of them. just… the dynamics of the different types of desperate “unrequited” feelings and the way they try to get away from them.

like. dean getting drunk and making out with some tall, long haired guy at a bar. nasty desperate hands down the back of the guys jeans, stifling a sigh that his ass isn’t quite round enough to be sam’s. he has blue eyes, not brown, but dean isn’t looking at his face anyway. fucking not-sam rough in the back of the impala, moaning baby and cutting off before brother, saying sam’s name when he cums, trying not to stare at the army figure in the ashtray. hating himself for it, swearing off it, but always crawling back, chasing the high like an addict. feeling deep in his soul that sam was right to leave, that he’s better off without his sick freak of a brother.

sam being into girls with short hair, accidentally hitting on lesbians because he struggles to be attracted to anything not wearing a crew cut, flannel and work boots. he’s sick, he knows, that’s part of why he had to leave. frosh week drunk, he lets a guy flirt with him, because he’s just tall enough, just different enough, that sam can give himself plausible deniability. his lips are too thin, he’s too gentle, he smells like axe and fake leather, but sam needs something, and this is all he can get. it’s going fine, until the guy— too late now to ask his name— goes for sam’s belt and sam feels like he’s going to puke. the wrongness of it comes over him all at once, like a fever or a hex. clarity pierces his drunken state: not dean’s hands, not dean’s voice, not dean, wrong. at least it gives him an excuse to back out, a good reason to lock himself in the bathroom and sit on the floor, trying to determine if the dry heaving is cheap beer or grief.

girls are— safe. long hair, soft hands, sweet and gentle and nowhere close to 6’1. this way, there’s nothing reminding sam of the absence, nothing pushing against the barrier he’s made around what he really wants. he can be normal.

he knows it’s dean after the first strike, knows his footsteps and his breath and the outline of his shoulders, even now, even in the dark. but sam doesn’t stop fighting, because he’ll have to stop touching dean, and sam can allow himself this one thing, after so long. dean’s leather jacket on sam’s bare arms is making him dizzy, and sam lets dean take him down, the beginning and end of sam’s understanding of desire. a reminder, familiar like dean’s rough palms on his wrists, his weight pinning sam, his shit-eating grin and drawled easy, tiger; sam has never been normal.

[miraclewoozi]

VERSACE ON THE FLOOR. -l.jh

ooh, i love that dress but you won’t need it anymore –

Or, the time you and your homebody boyfriend* decide to just… not go to your dinner plans.

pairing; lee jihoon x fem reader. content; fluff, suggestive (MINORS DNI). established relationship. warnings; relatively warning free (y'all i didn't even swear???) but just in case -- a couple of dorky jokes, reader wears a dress, makeup and heels, making out, undressing. let me know if i've forgotten anything. w/c; 2.4k (apparently i am in my shorter fic era? party.) note; if there's one thing i'm gonna do, no matter what day of the week it is, it's be disgustingly delusional about jihoon. get ur dentists on speedial, it's a tooth rotter (/j). note 2.0; i've had this one in the drafts for so long i had forgotten all about it! but then VOTF came on shuffle a few days ago (and i started thinking about light a flame woozi at the same time, which nearly fucking killed me), so. here we are. enjoy.<3

You don’t go out for dates very often. Not anymore, at least.

When you and Jihoon first got together, he took you out all the time. For dinners, to cocktail bars, to the movies, for walks down the beach, picnics by the river. It didn’t matter where you went as long as it put a smile on your face — all he ever wanted to do was make you feel special. No expense has ever been too great for his favourite girl, after all; he’s always loved to spoil you.

Now several years into your relationship, you’re a real pair of homebodies. Sure, he could take you out for a four course dinner at an expensive restaurant in the middle of the city, or reserve a table at a pretentious cocktail bar that plays slightly too loud music that’s always just to the left of either of your tastes. Then again… He could cook a nice meal for you to have at the apartment you share, where you can make your way through a bottle of bubbles without one of you needing to stay sober to drive home or else risk your lives in a sketchy cab. 

It’s something you’ve talked about several times, and on every occasion, it’s quite apparent that you’re both very happy with the way things are. If anything, it makes it all the more special when he tells you he needs you to keep your weekend free because he’s making plans, and he wants to whisk you away.

Like now, for instance. The hotel suite he’s booked is gorgeous and you’re perched on the edge of the plush bedding, bent over double so that you can properly fasten your shoes while he finishes getting ready in the bathroom. Now and again, you hear a grumble or a click of his tongue float through the ajar door; every time, you feel a smile play at your lips as you shake your head. He never changes. (You’re so glad.)

“Jihoon,” you call to him softly. You can practically see how he’ll be standing – facing the mirror, on his tiptoes to lean over the bathroom counter and get as close to his own reflection as he possibly can. Pouting as his fingers drag through his hair to try and fix the strands in place just a tiny bit better. “Don’t you dare come out here looking like Sonic the Hedgehog. You know the more you play with it, the more annoyed you’re going to get.”

A few seconds later, he emerges, an eyebrow raised in challenge, an amused grin tugging his lips out of their habitual frown. 

(And lo and behold — his hair looks absolutely fine.)

But the second he sees you, whatever witty comeback he was obviously very proud of dies on his lips, and you straighten up with only one of your shoes secured to your foot, the other just slipped on over your toes.

“Wow,” he says, in that soft, deep, quiet way that he does when you’ve really taken his breath away. You watch his Adam’s apple bob in his throat as he swallows; you see his brow crinkle and his eyes widen, as if he’s trying to see as much of you as he possibly can. “Is that…?”

“Yeah,” you nod proudly, sitting back and smoothing your hands over the dress you’re wearing. “From our first anniversary.”

As his eyes move over you, taking in everything from the way the straps sit on your shoulders to the way the hem lays across your thigh, your own eyes move over him. The top three buttons of his shirt are still unfastened and his tie hangs either side, tucked beneath his collar but not knotted yet. His slacks have been cleanly pressed, a neat, crisp seam running down the front of both legs. Shoes shined to perfection. Expensive watch strapped around his wrist. 

He might just be the most handsome man in the entire world.

“I remember you saying you really liked it, so… I dug it out, special.” 

“You look incredible,” he says. It’s so gentle, so sincere, that you think your heart is about to burst clean out of your chest. Warmth trickles the length of your spine, and it isn’t exactly helped when you realise – only now as he starts to cross the room to get closer to you – that he hadn’t moved an inch since he surfaced from the bathroom almost a full ninety seconds ago.

He shrinks down so he’s rested on both of his knees in front of you, skilful hands moving to help with the shoe you hadn’t managed to lace up yet. every time his fingertips so much as brush against your skin, the electricity in his gentle touches shoots all the way from the point of contact up to your brain and leaves it fogged, impossible to make any sense through the thick clouds of intimacy and adoration. More-so as he smoothly lifts your leg a little and presses his lips once to the inside of your ankle, even foggier still as he trails kisses up the length of your calf towards your knee. 

“Jihoon,” you laugh breathlessly, laying a hand on his shoulder as you feel his tongue press lightly against your skin. He finally sits back on his heels, running his fingers up and down the backs of your legs; he’s successfully managed to hike your dress up a few inches now, too, and he keeps flitting his gaze between your face and your thighs. “We can’t – we’ll be late.”

“We have ages,” he frowns, shuffling closer and trying to bump your knees apart, but you keep your muscles engaged and he doesn’t pull at them that hard, so they don’t budge.

“We have to get there, too,” you remind him. He throws his head back and sighs dramatically. The neckline of his dress shirt seems to open a little more when he looks back at you, drawing your attention down the length of his neck to his bulging chest, and the muscular forearms that he crosses in front of it.

“And this is why we don’t go out.”

“What, because you’re horny all the damn time?” You tease. 

He gently swats at the top of your thigh before soothing it with another small kiss. 

“Because when you look this good, how am I supposed to want to go and eat a steak instead?” 

He grins up at you from the floor, quite clearly delighted with himself for his little gag. You, however, flop back onto the mattress and cover your face with your hands.

“That was so bad,” you chuckle. You’ve been trying for years to not melt to his very specific sense of humour, but it’s all been completely futile. Your reluctant laughs turn to sweet, breathy giggles by the time he lays both his arms across your legs and rests his chin on top of them. You prop yourself up on one elbow to look at him; he’s staring up at your face like he thinks he’ll never see anything as beautiful as you for the rest of his life. 

“Maybe… We don’t have to go out for dinner,” he suggests. “Maybe we can stay in tonight, too.”

“Horndog.” You tsk. But you’re not disappointed at the idea of staying in, either, regardless of whether your teasing implies otherwise. “I knew you’d say that.”

“No — really,” he swallows. You aren’t sure if you can feel his heart beating a little faster where his chest is pressed completely against your shins, or if you’re just imagining it. But the tips of his ears are going pink too, so you think it’s safe to trust your intuition on this one. “I mean-… we don’t have to go. I could-…”

He bites the inside of his cheek before he looks down, pressing his forehead against his arms and hiding his face completely.

“I could do it here.”

He says these words quietly. Mumbles them, really. You aren’t sure if you were meant to hear, or if he was just talking to himself. But either way, it has to be worth a shot to find out.

“What do you mean, Ji?”

One, two, three seconds pass. And… Nothing. 

“Hey.”

You bounce your thighs a little so he’s forced to look up at you, and you can see something swimming in his eyes. Something brewing. He sits back from you and pushes a hand through his hair; a few strands lose their stick to the rest of the main body and tumble down over his forehead. Exactly in the way he was trying to prevent. 

“I could just do it here.”

He says this louder. Clearer. With much more finality. You sit up properly, then, both your hands clasped together in your lap. 

“Do what here, baby?”

His eyes find yours and you sit there for a few moments, unwrapping each other's minds with nothing more than a look and a matching pair of gentle — but slightly concerned — smiles. 

He moves one hand down and slips it into the back left pocket of his slacks. You think you can feel the world around you start to slow. 

When he shifts a leg from beneath him so he’s on one knee before you and presents you with a glittering diamond ring, it stops altogether. 

“Jihoon,” you breathe. 

He glances between the ring and you, biting his bottom lip before he speaks. 

“I had it-… I had everything planned.” He laughs, looking away from your face as even more rising heat becomes evident on his own. “Down to the second, even. But just like you always do — just like the first time I saw you, and just like every time since… You threw me a curve ball and… Somehow, you’ve changed everything. But you made it so much better. 

“I think I was supposed to find you, y/n,” Jihoon says. “I don't know what’s up there, what’s in charge of when we meet the people we meet and why we fall in love with the people we fall in love with. but I know that they were really looking out for me the day you came into my life.” 

You can feel your eyes starting to sting at the corners and you will the tears away, desperate not to smudge the makeup you spent so long trying to perfect. You know he’d love you either way — mascara tear tracks and splotchy concealer and all — but… 

“I am so in love with you that sometimes, it really hurts. It hurts because I know that no one’s ever going to come close — about anyone in the world — to feeling the way I feel about you. I feel bad for everyone, a bit. Because you’re not-… you're not with them. You’re with me. But I wouldn’t want any of them to be with you, because-... and… and if you’ll have me, I want you to be with me forever.”

You don't know when you started slowly nodding along to his little monologue, but you definitely are. You’re not sure when you started holding your breath either, but that’s two for two. He looks up at you, expectantly, fluttering his eyelashes and stuttering out a long, deep breath. 

“Y/n, will you marry me?”

Some decisions, you’ve always thought, are made for you at a cosmic level. Your favourite colours. Your favourite foods. Hot and cold weather people. Loving or hating marmite. A predisposition to enjoying scary movies or being the kind of person who hides behind a pillow. 

This is another one of those. You don’t have to think twice about it — you just know. You know because a great unstoppable force managed to squeeze you together at the perfect moment in time; the ever-expanding universe around you has kept you and Jihoon side by side through everything it could possibly throw at you. 

“Yes.”

Of course you want to spend your forever with him. 

The word leaves your mouth in a whisper and everything flies back into motion. The first black droplet rolls down your cheek. His usually so steady hands fumble with yours to slide the ring over your finger. A perfect fit. You’re hurtling through space and time as he gets up off his knees and cups your cheeks, gently pulling you upright and crashing his lips against yours. You stumble into him slightly in your heels; his kiss is more a chaotic clatter of teeth and giddy laughter than perhaps the intense, romantic gesture he was aiming for, but it’s completely, utterly, unequivocally perfect.

Jihoon’s fancy dress shirt creases under your fingers as you ball it into your fists where the top buttons are spread open, pulling him as close as you can, laughter dying down as he loses himself in you and as you lose yourself in him, right back. He swallows all of your gasps and sighs, hands sliding down from your face to the sides of your neck, until he’s resting a palm on each of your shoulders. A single finger slips beneath one of the straps and he pulls it out of the way, down onto your arm, withdrawing from your mouth so that he can press a series of kisses down your cheek and to your jaw instead.

“Ji,” you murmur, tipping your head back and fumbling at the buttons running the length of his torso, trying and failing to get them open. He chuckles, his other hand coming to rest over yours to stop you. You lace your fingers together, feeling him squeeze. Your heart pounds.

“Let's take our time,” he whispers to you, thumb grazing over your collarbone. “Okay?”

All you can do is nod as he kisses lower, and lower, pressing his lips everywhere he can while he’s still standing. Your neck and shoulders feel ablaze, tickling with the heat of the burning stars his mouth paints across your skin. 

“Need-... Ji, you need to-... call… call the restaurant,” you stutter. “Gotta…. we need to cancel…”

The fleeting sting of his teeth against your throat interrupts you and you’re only aware of him reaching behind you to tug the zipper of your dress down when the material falls completely slack..

“In a minute,” he says, helping you walk backwards until your calves collide with the bed behind you once again. He eases you to lie down on the comforter and crawls on top of you, caging you in with both arms, taking hold of your left hand again.

He looks down at the ring on your finger, his entire face breaking into the most brilliant of smiles. Every inch, from the creases at the corners of his eyes to the paling stretch of his beautiful lips. 

“My future wife needs taking care of, first.”

– no you won’t need it no more, let’s just kiss ‘til we’re naked, baby.

hehe thank u sm for reading!! i hope you enjoyed this bc it was a bit special 2 me. likes, reblogs, comments + feedback are all, as always, greatly appreciated.<3

[powerfultenderness]

Wait how would neighbour könig react to a sick reader? Like they’ve holed themselves up in their apartment and are really unwell. I’m in my sickly Victorian child era and need comfort from this hunk of a man 💕

Exchange

Rated: Mature Word count: 2965 Notes: I flipped flop so much on what kind of sick, but settled on König taking care of you during your period because it allowed the exchange that takes place.

Eating dinner alone in the comfort of his own home had been something König used to look forward to. For one, the food was better than what was offered at the mess hall (not that it was particularly bad). There was also the quiet his home offered, no loud and rambunctious soldiers turning meal time into some form of entertainment or competition. As he rose in rank, he started working while eating, then when he finally got his own place, he discovered he didn’t have to. He could take the time to simply enjoy his meal. It was refreshing, to say the least, and turned into a routine. He liked routines…until he didn’t. Until you moved in next door.

Lately there had been a little dance between the two of you. Sometimes you’d invite him over for dinner, other times he’d invite you over. As much as he wanted to sit you down and insist on a set schedule (every day), he didn’t want to scare you away. The next best thing, he figured, was to bring you dinner himself, no excuses, just because he wanted to spend time with you.

He was confident when he knocked on your door. You had expressed interest in this restaurant before and now he was certain to win some favor by sharing his favorite foods with you. 

He was confident until you opened the door. 

“Hey, König.” You started, a quiet pained sigh following your greeting, “I’m not really up for hanging out tonight.”

“What’s wrong?” He asked as he took in your appearance.

You were wearing what he assumed was your pajamas, a t-shirt and a pair of black shorts that normally would have had him drooling over your exposed skin, but that he was too worried that you were hunching over slightly in obvious pain. 

You shook your head, “nothing. I’m just not feeling good.” 

“Let me help,” he lifted his hands, intending to herd you back inside and either to the couch or your room, but as he did so he brought the container of takeout closer to you. 

“Ugh, König!” You slapped a hand over your mouth and nose and quickly dashed to the kitchen, where you flung yourself over the sink and threw up. It wasn’t much, all liquid, bile and spit and what little water you had managed to get down. 

He cursed quietly and followed you, dropping the food on the counter before gently touching your back. At least he tried to, but you waved him off as you grabbed a kitchen towel to wipe your mouth, though you kept it pressed to your face as you spoke. “I’m just really sensitive to smell right now.” 

“Oh!” He realized that it was the take out that had caused you to suddenly throw up and apologized before darting out of your flat with the food. 

You were still in the kitchen when he came back, having dropped the food off at his place. “Darling, please tell me what’s wrong. I want to help.” 

“Nothing.” You sighed as you tried to stand straight, though one of your hands remained pressed to your lower stomach.

“You just threw up on an empty stomach, I do not think that is nothing.” 

You scoffed quietly and resisted rolling your eyes. “It’s nothing. I just need to rest, so I’ll see you later, alright?” 

You tried to get him to leave, instead he moved even closer to you, setting his hands on your shoulders. 

“Please. Let me help.” 

You looked up at him, worry clear in his eyes despite the mask he still wore, and sighed as you broke eye contact by dropping your head onto his chest. He didn’t seem to mind and started to gently rub your shoulders. 

As you leaned against him, he started to worry even more. You felt so weak, trembling slightly in his arms, he had to resist the urge to scoop you up and take you back to his home, where he could properly take care of you. 

“It’s just my period, it’s bad the first day. Just let me go back to bed.” You mumbled and attempted to pull away from him, of course he didn’t let you.

“Okay.” He easily picked you up in a bridal carry, ignoring your squeaked protest, and walked you back into your room. 

He’d been in your room enough times to see how unusual it was currently. Your bed was a mess, blankets in a tangled bundle with your pillows strewn about, used tissues scattered on the bed and the floor. Your nightstand had a glass of water and some pill bottles on it, next to your laptop which was turned toward the bed with some movie on pause. 

He gently set you down on your bed and helped straighten out your blanket so you could get comfortable. You mumbled your thanks as you curled up on your side.

“Do you need anything?” 

You were about to tell him no when your knee hit the, now cold, heating pad under your blanket.

“Uh, actually, can you throw this in the microwave for ninety seconds?” 

He nodded with a soft “of course,” and gently took the heating pad from you. 

Once he was back and handed you the warm compress, he kneeled next to your bed. “Anything else? Something to eat? Fresh water?” 

You groaned and shook your head. You were so nauseous you could barely hold down enough water to swallow the pain medication, there was no way you were ready to eat yet. 

“Cuddles?” He asked as you were shaking your head.

You actually chuckled, his own smile softening his eyes.

“I like cuddling with you, König.” Though it didn’t happen as often as either of you would like. “But not now. I move too much and I don’t wanna bleed on you.” 

König pulled your blanket up to your shoulder, as it had fallen when you reached for the heating pad. “A little blood doesn’t scare me, darling.” 

You laughed again and scrunched up your face. “Gross.” 

“Oh,” you looked back up at him, “you really wanna do me a favor?” 

He nodded, almost too eager to finally do something to help you.

“Can you take me to work tomorrow? I hate driving like this.” 

“You’re going to work tomorrow?” He blinked rapidly, surprised to hear that you were considering this in the state that you were in.

“Yea,” you laughed again, “my period isn’t exactly a good excuse to miss work. Besides, I’ll feel better in a few hours.” 

König hummed like he wanted to disagree but nodded. “Alright.” 

“Thank you. I usually leave around seven.” 

Of course, he already knew that. Not that he was going to say so out loud.

König stood back up and hesitated, looking back and forth between you and the door.

“What?” You prompted him.

“You need to lock the door.”

“Ugh!” You turned your face into your pillow, hiding a grin. “Just leave it unlocked.” You’d get it later. You had to get up eventually. 

“I’m not leaving your door unlocked all night!” König chided as he looked back at you. Especially not when you were this weak and vulnerable! “I’ll sleep on the couch.”

You pushed yourself up with another weak laugh and rolled your eyes. “König, you can barely fit on that couch sitting down.” 

“Well, I’m not leaving you with your door unlocked.”

“I’ll lock it later. Or, or just use my spare key.”

König stiffened, “spare key?”

“Yea. It’s on the shelf in the living room, in the white and blue bowl. With a Hello Kitty keychain.” 

As König followed your directions, finding the key easily, he fought with his own thoughts. You were not giving him free access to your flat whenever he wanted! You were just letting him borrow it because he was the one insisting the door be locked. 

After taking a moment to settle his racing thoughts, he popped back over to your room and knocked on the door to draw your attention. 

“Found it,” he said as he held up the key with its cute little cartoon charm attached. 

“Good.” You peeked up at him before settling back down, “thanks, König, goodnight.” 

“Goodnight.”

He double checked that the door was locked before he made his way back to his own flat. And even though he thought he should return your key to you tomorrow, he looped it onto his own set of keys. 

-

König was concerned when in the morning you admitted to still not having eaten. He was even more concerned when he picked you up from work you admitted to also having skipped lunch. 

“It’s fine,” you reassured him, again, as he helped you down from the truck. “I’ll eat later. Right now I just need a nice hot shower and to stretch.” 

Thankfully it was the weekend and you’d get to spend the rest of your period in peace.

“Stretch?” He asked as he opened the door to the building.

“Yea,” you put a hand on your lower back. “My back doesn’t like when I hunch over so much.” 

König followed you inside and up the flight of stairs, all the way to your door, silent. Maybe you read his insistence on your well-being wrong, most men would rather not talk about women's periods, why should he be any different? 

He was so close to you as you unlocked your door though, that you had to open it and partially step inside just to properly turn to face him. You were about to thank him, but he was leaning down almost in your face.

“Wha-” 

He took your hands in his and looped them around his neck, “hold on.” 

“What?”

He then wrapped his arms tightly around your back and stood up straight, pulling you into a hug that lifted you off your feet.

You let out an involuntary groan as relief flooded you as your back released, the accompanying pop of your back cracking loud enough for both you and König to hear clearly. 

He set you back down, glad of the mask hiding his burning face, and loosened his hold on you until his hands were softly resting on your hips. 

You looked up at him, a bashful smile lighting your face as you continued to cling to him, your voice barely above a whisper. “That felt really good.” 

His eyes went wide and he quickly pulled his hands back, blood thrumming at the little whimper that you let out when your arms fell away from him. He cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck nervously. If he didn't leave now, he'd do something inappropriate, like push you up against a wall and devour you. The thought stirred him until he looked at you again, at the way you pressed a hand to your lower belly in an attempt to alleviate some of the cramping, and reminded him that now was not the time.

“I should, uh, leave you to that shower.”

You hummed and smiled, “alright. Thanks for the help, g’ni-”

“-And I’ll stop by to check on you in an hour.”

You breathed out a laugh, “you really don’t have to.”

“Will you eat?”

You made a face and groaned. While not nauseous enough to throw up from something as small as sipping water anymore, you weren’t quite feeling like eating just yet. Though, maybe you were at the point of questioning whether you were nauseous because you weren’t eating, or if you weren’t eating because you were nauseous. 

You opened your mouth to answer him, to tell him that you’d eat later, but he shook his head. “I’ll bring you something to eat in an hour.” And he walked away before you could protest.

You sighed, well, his heart was in the right place…

-

You were feeling infinitely better after a hot shower, glad to put on your comfiest t-shirt and shorts and wait for König to show up with food. Just as he said, a little under an hour later he knocked on your door. 

“I got you soup.” He said instead of a greeting when you answered, holding up a covered, steaming, glass container. 

“That actually sounds nice, thank you, König.” 

He smiled, the little creases around his eyes giving tale to it, behind his mask, as he walked in. “Good. I was afraid you would say you would eat later.” 

“I mean, it’s technically later now.” 

He shook his head and motioned towards the bar stools you had pushed up against the counter. “Sit.” 

He’d been over enough times to know where things were in your kitchen, and served up some of the soup with a glass of water. It was a light soup, mostly broth with finely diced vegetables. 

“Is this what you eat when you’re sick?” You asked as he continued to move around your kitchen.

“I don’t get sick.” 

You scoffed a laugh that you tried to play off as you blowing on the hot soup.

“...Yea.” He answered truthfully as he put a kettle on.

“No shame in a good ol’ Cup a Soup. I have some in the pantry, you didn’t have to raid your stash for me.” 

“Had to make sure you would eat.” 

You laughed a little at that, surprised at how well he seemed to know you. You would feel a little guilty for not finishing a bowl if it were something that he brought over instead of what you just had sitting in your pantry. 

“What kind of tea?”

“Peppermint. With two spoons of honey.” 

You were finished with your soup by the time he was done preparing your tea just the way you like. 

Following a cute little exchange of an empty bowl for a fresh tea cup, he motioned to your room with a nod, “go lay down. I will clean up.” 

“Kay. Thank you.” You didn’t argue with him this time, because all you really wanted to do anyway was climb in bed. 

König followed after you just to grab your heating pad then headed back to the kitchen.

You were careful with placing your tea on the nightstand, close enough to reach while you’re in bed and but not too close to the laptop that’s facing the bed. 

“I have something for you,” König started as he came back, just as you settled down.

First he handed you your heating pad, which you were glad to pull under the covers with you. Then he held up your favorite candy bar, “for when you feel better.” 

You chuckled, “aww, thank you, König!” 

He set that down next to your tea and shifted on his feet awkwardly before he looked at you again. “And this. Here.” 

He held out his hand in a loose fist towards you.

“Hm?” You reached out to let him drop whatever it was into your palm.

You blinked at the slightly warmed metal in your hand and smiled when you looked down. A single key attached to a plain key ring. 

König was looking up and away from you when you looked back at him, his hand rubbing the back of his neck as he stuttered out an explanation. “Just in case, yea? I want you to keep it.” 

“Okay,” you said softly and reached over to the nightstand and slipped it inside the drawer. “I’ll keep it right next to me.” 

König’s heart fluttered at how intimate the simple little gesture sounded and he was once again glad that his face was covered. “Need anything else?”

You hummed and patted the bed next to you. “Cuddles?”

His eyebrows shot up at your request. “I thought you didn’t want to cuddle?”

“That was last night! But if you don’t want to cuddle, it’s fine. I’m sure I have a plushie around here somewhere.” You sat up and glanced around your room, trying to remember where you stashed that cute teddy bear you had.

Before you could point out your bear, König moved around to the other side of the bed and lifted the blanket enough to slip under it, muttering for you to lay back down. 

There was a bit of an awkward shuffle as he kicked off his boots and settled behind you, spooning you.

“Ack, you’re on my shirt, you’re choking me!” You half laughed as you tried to pull the tail of your shirt from under him.

He cursed and pushed himself up long enough for you to free yourself. “Why are you wearing such a big shirt?”

“It’s comfy!” 

“And where do you get such a big shirt?” He teased as he tugged on the excess material before settling his hand over the heating pad that was slipping, keeping it close to your abdomen.

“I stole it.”

“You stole it? From who?”

“Mmhm.” Then you paused to hit play on the movie you had picked out, “just…someone.” 

Your ex. You didn’t want to say it, didn’t even want to think of your ex while wrapped up in König’s arms, but your silence itself was loud enough for him to hear it. 

“Do you do that often?” “What?”

“Steal other people’s clothes?”

You laughed, “well, it is hard to resist a comfy shirt.” 

“Little thief.” He teased in German, chuckling at your “what?!” that followed.

You were familiar with his nicknames enough that you picked up on the word ‘little’ but you didn’t know the second word. 

“Only of comfy t-shirts!” you protested when he translated for you.

König chuckled and nudged you slightly, “watch your movie.” 

He didn’t pay attention to the movie, even if you did insist that it was good. He was too busy trying to figure out a way to tempt you with one of his shirts. 

[Neighbor!König Masterlist]

Neighbor König taglist: 

@warrior-of-justice  @cumikering @ihateuguys @rand0m--fangirl @keiva1000 @dtftheavengers @takeyour-pants-off @aeeliy @milenko115 @sodonuthideout @onegami @nadiauddincrafts @nadiauddincrafts @grizzersmamma @flooftoof @techs-ass @virginalsacrifice @s0rc3r3r @sleeplessskeleton @introvered-violinist @tizylish @romula96 @peach-habibitch @mitchlow @queenotaku27 @fenixnegras @emmbny @love-dove-noora @lesbianmitsuri @supergirl16 @wybwtjmiadz @ghonigsloverbabe @thatmusedhatter @grassclippers @skystreamchan @lordlydragon @luvecarson @thetestsubject666 @mafer383 @darkangel4121 @puppylikethedog  @trashitytrashitytrash 

[insxghtt]

do you hate me? — euronymous x mean girl!reader

Maybe Euronymous liked you more than he should.

warnings: beating nazis i guess (you'll understand). mostly fluff as always.

this is a fanfic for RORY CULKIN ONLY. i don't even know the real story of mayhem really, i just watched the movie and to be honest i didn't even like it so....... idk sorry, i am in my rory culkin era and i will make it everyone's problem.

The first time Euronymous saw you, you were not in a good mood.

Well, it was difficult to ever see you in a good mood. You came from a not so loving family, so you learned how to defend yourself from a very young age. It’s not like you chose it, you just learned that there were two types of people in the world: the ones who fight, and the ones who get hurt. It was about survival, so you did what you had to do, you built your walls and they were fucking strong.

Some people would be surprised. Euronymous was. You didn’t look very threatening, that was a fact. You liked pink, you loved makeup, you had a sweet smile. It's why he felt so confused when he first saw you walking inside his record store.

Your hair was tied in a bun, your earrings were golden, the pink shirt you were wearing ended just above your stomach, showing off your belly piercing. Your boot-cut jeans and high heels completed your look. You were definitely not fitting in. All the other people in the store were either wearing all black clothes or something dark with a weird band logo in it.

A couple boys tried to scare you as soon as you stepped in, yelling “Hail Satan!” right at your face.

Euronymous smirked, wondering how long it would take for you to realize that you walked in the wrong store.

But you weren't scared. In fact, you stared at the two boys in complete silence. For a moment, they laughed, but soon their smiles began to fade out. Something about your look, your presence and even the way you chewed your gum was fucking scary.

“The fuck you lookin’ at?”, you asked angrily and the two boys just looked away, too afraid to say anything else. “Fuckin’ assholes”, you whispered to yourself as you walked to the balcony, where Euronymous was still staring at you, but this time with surprise.

You stopped right in front of him. The look on your face was serious, and he felt the urge to say something that would make your face twist in disgust. After all, it was his favorite thing to do.

“You sure you’re in the right place, cupcake?”, he jokes.

You just ignored his question.

“Listen, I need a dark fucking mindblowing death metal album or some shit like that, what do you have?”

“This is fucking Helvete. Everything here is metal”, he laughed and leaned on the balcony.

You sighed and rolled your eyes. “Okay, mister… whatever the fuck your name is…”

“Euronymous”, he added. “My name is Euronymous.”

You felt his friends around looking at you.

“Of course it is…”, you continued, feeling impatient to leave that place. “Look, I have a brother who’s into this…”, you gestured with your hands to the records around. “...type of shit and tomorrow is his birthday. I don’t know if your brain is rational enough to notice, but this is really not my thing, so I’m gonna need some help, okay?”, you gave him a sarcastic smile.

Euronymous liked it. The attitude, the way you were not threatened by anyone there at all. Shit, he even liked the lip gloss in your lips and he was far away from being a lip gloss admirer.

And he had no idea why he liked it.

“Alright”, he nodded, not taking his eyes away from you for even a second. “So, is he really into it or is he a poser?”

You had no idea what he was talking about. “You’re asking me if he’s a satanic freak who wants to burn down churches and eat priests for breakfast?”

“Wow, she’s fast”, he said with a smile and his friends laughed.

“Yes, he is.”

“Alright”, he said, disappearing behind the balcony to grab something.

He knew exactly what you needed. That is, if your friend was not a poser, of course. He grabbed his own band’s record and showed it to you.

You stared at the record and looked back at him. “Okay…”

“It’s my band.”

“This is weird”, you whispered to yourself and the guy in front of you gave you a smirk. “Whatever, how much for it?”

“If you give me your number, it’s for free.”

“That’s not happening, but I appreciate your trying.”

You paid for it as you watched one of his weird friends putting the record in a plastic bag. Euronymous made sure to take it from his friend's hand to give it to you himself and when you grabbed the bag, you felt his fingers touching your hand.

"Freak", you whispered to yourself and he laughed as you turned away to leave.

Euronymous wouldn't say it out loud but he even found himself thinking of you after that.

The second time he saw you, you were beating the shit out of a boy outside of a bar. The boy was on the ground already wrapped up in a ball.

"Fuckin' nazi!", you yelled as you kicked the guy on the stomach one last time. 

Later, he found out that you were very good at beating the shit out of nazis.

As soon as you noticed Euronymous watching you sent him a deadly look. Euronymous would even be scared if he wasn't… well, himself. That was one thing you had in common, you two were not easily threatened.

"What do you want?", you asked.

"Nothing", he shrugged and grabbed a cigarette from his pocket, putting it between his lips.

He turned away for a second but soon he turned back to you, removing the cigarette from his lips and putting it back in his pocket. You stared at him curious to what he had to say and he thought to himself if he should really say it.

But you only live once, right?

"Can I buy you a drink?"

Euronymous felt nervous as he watched you thinking about it.

But it was only a drink, right?

So to his relief, you also shrugged and nodded.

You two walked in the bar and he did buy you not one, but two, three, four drinks. You found yourself laughing at one of his jokes at some point and you wondered if it was the alcohol or if you were actually enjoying his presence.

"So, why did you move here?", he asked with a smile. "I mean, it's not like this is a dream city."

"Well, I like it here", you said. "And also the rent is cheap."

He laughed, but didn't say anything. Then you realized he wasn't satisfied with your answer. He wanted to know why.

"I ran away", you answered honestly.

"What did you run away from?"

Maybe if it was anyone else, this would be the perfect moment for you to push them away like you always did. But it wasn't anyone, it was him. And you enjoyed talking to him.

"My family. I ran away from my family."

Euronymous nodded, knowing that there was a line that he couldn't cross yet. Of course, he could ask more. He wanted to, but more than that, he wanted you to do that by yourself.

"I get it", he said.

"Of course you do."

Euronymous looked at you, so you explained. "Look at you, all angry at the world."

"My family is pretty nice, actually."

This time you were the one feeling surprised.

"Really? So you're a family guy?", you asked. "Then why do you act like you hate everyone?"

He thought about it for a second.

"I can still hate everyone except for my family", he gave you a smirk.

You smiled. Maybe it was the alcohol or maybe it was the fact that he had those big beautiful blue eyes, but you were mesmerized by how pretty he was.

"Do you hate me?", you whispered as you got closer to his face.

Euronymous stared at your lips. You were so different from him and he, for some reason, was loving it.

"No…", he whispered back.

He didn’t kiss you that night. You turned away before he could do that, distracted by a song playing in the background. You stood up from your chair and offered him your hand, asking him to dance with you. Euronymous hated that song and if it was anyone else asking him to dance, he would immediately decline and leave. But it wasn't anyone, it was you.

So he danced with you. The first minutes he had a frown on his face, but it faded away as soon as he saw you almost tripping on your own feet. He tried to hide his laugh as he held your waist, but you knew he was enjoying this more than he wanted to assume.

Soon, you two were dancing to songs that he swore to never dance to. Euronymous knew that if any of his friends saw him like that, they would probably lose all the respect they had towards him. But then again, he asked himself if he even cared.

And the truth was that he didn’t. He didn't care about anything else other than you at that moment.

[lousirs]

UD headcanons no one asked for!

my motivation has gone to get the milk and has not come back since, SO HEY! who wants to hear some random headcanons that have been microwaving in my head for the past year???

this is going to be a long one...

stuff under the cut vvv

Lou is the kinda guy to only pack nice looking outfits on a holiday. Do they suit the occasion? Probably not. But he wants to look the part every where he goes, even if he's wearing a suit during the middle of summer

He would also be the guy to complain that it's too cold, even though he was told to pack up layers of clothes for a hiking trip, and didn't. But when someone tries to give him a coat, he says "I don't need that, I'm fine!" even though he looks like he's going to freeze over.

He takes the coat not too soon after

On the other hand, either Nolan or Ox would overpack for a trip. Ox because he is basically the fatherly figure of the group, and wants to make sure that everyone has enough food, water, and layers of clothing for the trip. Oh, and he brings a first aid kit as well. Nolan however does it because "What if I didn't pack enough?? What if I need this oddly specific thing??" and packs more than he needs to

Speaking of Ox, he always came off as a character who really enjoys camping and exploring, ya know? He seems like the leader of a scout group who loves to sing campfire songs and tell spooky stories that no one believes. (him and Rhidian would get along well)

LITERALLY NO ONE TALKS ABOUT LUCKYBAT AND OX'S DYNAMIC AND IT'S DRIVING ME WILD. Hello?? A withdrawn and somewhat jaded mayor who is protective of those he's close to with his intelligent, caring and concerned assistant?? That sounds interesting!

I'm sure LuckyBat knows more than anyone else (besides Lou) of what Ox went through. Perhaps he didn't know about the Institute, but he knew ox went through some stuff outside Uglyville. Perhaps that's why he's so cautious to go into the pipe.

(And perhaps the reason why he decides to go to learn new stuff was for the sake of finding out what Ox doesn't speak about?)

Back to the Prettydolls, I always found it interesting that Nolan was able to run the gauntlet despite being imperfect, although Moxy and Mandy, two other imperfect dolls, were thrown into recycling. Why was Nolan allowed to run the gauntlet, huh Lou? Didn't you say that any unideal looking doll goes to recycling, Lou????

Personally, I like to think that Lou allowed Nolan to do training and was like "Haha watch this idiot fail". And turns out Nolan was really good at it (flashbacks to Nolan being buff in the novel). Lou is flabbergasted.

...Either that or Lou just allowed him to run the gauntlet to watch him fail immediately because "Haha funny" and also "Haha imperfects can't win. Suck it loser~"

Kitty is jealous of Mandy's makeup skills, and often copies her because of it, too embarrassed to ask for advice because she needs to learn on her own. After Lou gets overthrown, Kitty and Mandy help each other out on their makeup and hair

Tuesday is the girl to think that "Yeah I'm smiling, but inside I'm crying" is the deepest thing to ever exist. Kitty bullies her for it.

Also, Tuesday cry-sings "I'm a mess" by Bebe Rexha after Lou denied her 1244th love confession. She will try again tomorrow

Because Kelly Clarkson was pop-rock for a while, I like to imagine that Moxy had a rock-n-roll rebellious phase, and still has a few characteristics from that era of her life

During the scene where Lou is going up the gauntlet lift with everyone else, he is constantly moving about. Winking at Mandy to fake confidence, adjusting his suit...etc. I always saw this has him being nervous, because you know, he's about to expose himself for being a prototype after this gauntlet stuff is over. So I like to think that he fiddles around with his suit when he's nervous. Mainly readjusting the sleeves, tightening his ascot tie and flicking out his collar. Also pulling out loose threads, if there is any.

I thought for the longest time that when Lou's hair got slightly messier, it showed him being more genuine. There is one god damn strand on his fringe that goes from being in place to hanging out, and I thought it showed him losing his façade, very very subtly.

This might be a hot take but I always saw Loundy (Mandy/Lou) as being friends/lovers to enemies. Think about it: Lou and Mandy seemed to have some sort of connection, Mandy (in my opinion) basically being Lou's assistant, similar to the spy girls. She began thinking he was perfect, and they formed a (seemingly) close bond. But over time, as Lou's desperation for perfection increased, her opinion of him soured, and she realised he isn't as perfect as she thought. She kept the negative thoughts to herself, though. Who would believe her? The perfect doll with the flawless looks and endless talents, topped off with a charming personality... Why would he be unhinged? How would he be unhinged?

You know that line Mandy says to Lou at the gauntlet? "You know, Lou.. When I first got here, I thought you were perfect. I couldn't find a single thing wrong with you. But, I can see a lot better now." perhaps that wasn't just talking about the events of the film, as it probably implies. Maybe she knows how terrible he's been for a long time...

That's all I got for now, I may doodle some of these if motivation comes back, who knows..

[moachaa]

Off stage

TW/ sex in public place, noonakink, unprotected sex

Extras❕: freeze era (silver tyun 🙏), btw the age gap isn’t too much > 4 years, I don’t know a single thing about how txt works, their schedules, what do they do so let just do it !

Synopsis: Its been over than 2 years that you work with txt, they know you well and you got along with everyone! But there was that one member with who the feeling went, a little different..

MDNI❗️

As usual, you were at Hybe’s building spending a quite ordinary day, sometimes seeing members around in the corridors, either alone or together. Txt were very busy these days with their last comeback since it was a huge success, they had to practice very hard and the recording sessions of their songs became even longer than before.

And you, like all the staff, of course you have to follow the rhythm, as busy as them, there was even more work now for you all. Your schedule has been changed and your work days are also longer than before.

Currently you’re working among txt’s stylists, for their new concept photos, the outfits were very various and you had to find the perfect clothes for each members. Everything has to be per-fect.

You were searching in one of the many closets in the room for a grey blazer for Taehyun.

“The combo blazer + white shirt would be amazing for this photo concept.. I have to find it!”

You mumble to yourself, your hands scrolling fast through each hangers in the closet, looking for that grey blazer you spotted few days ago as you were taking a break here.

You heard the sound of the door opening and as you turn around you see Taehyun entering inside with his phone in his hand, he was wearing that grey blazer you were looking for. A little surprised to see him already wearing it, because you were supposed to give it to him in first place. You simply ask him.

“Oh hi Taehyun, how are you today ?” taking a casual tone, greeting him as you both always did through years since you’ve been working here.

Even if it was very basic and yet informal, since staff aren’t really supposed to be close to members except if you’re not new here, among all the members in the group, Taehyun was the one with who you were the least close, though you can’t help but feel something which makes you the closest despite this distance.

“Good.” He answers as usually.

This conversation is very dry..

“I thought you’d stay in the makeup room, you seem to be already wearing your outfit.” You continue, discreetly sneaking the fact that you noticed he was already wearing the blazer you had to prepare him.

“Mmh, yeah Ana helped me and gave me that new blazer.” He explains.

“Ohh I see..” You nod, not really care about the fact that it was “Ana” who gave this blazer to him. “So, why did you come back here ?” You ask.

“Oh I was looking for a pen.”

You immediately look around for a pen, and you spot one on a table next to a bunch of papers. “Here.” You hand it to him.

“Thank you.” He takes it in his hand, slightly brushing his fingers against your palm when he takes the pen. Did he do it on purpose !?

“And.. may I ask why do you need a pen?” You quickly start talking again before any other awkward silence.

“Ana wanted to see one of my magic tricks.”

Her again?

You didn’t know much about her except that she was new here since last week, but she seems to have taken her marks quickly here, especially with others..

“Oh okay..!” You answer kinda surprised that the conversation keeps going with her name inside. “Well, I’m sure she’ll enjoy it, you’re pretty good a magic tricks and you never miss impressing others each time.” You answer with a little smile even if your tone was a little dry when you talked since you knew this magic trick wasn’t for “others” but for “Ana”.

But after all, she was just a staff member like everybody who’s working here..

Photoshoot for the concept photos of the comeback

All the group was ready, they started by taking pictures of members individually. It was Beomgyu’s turn, he was clearly comfortable with this theme and seems to like the vibe of the set they chose. “In another life he could’ve been mannequin..” you think to yourself.

But suddenly something snapped you back to reality and caught your attention instantly : Taehyun has entered the set, with that grey blazer, a cap and underneath some strands of his silver hair. Definitely not the same level. He has a the whole attitude and immediately finds the perfect poses for the cameras.

You decide to move forward towards the cameras to take a look at the pictures. When your eyes shift to the screens, you see that Taehyun also shifted his eyes, he wasn’t looking at the cameras anymore but toward the staff team. You look up and sees his gaze piercing into yours, he was looking at you with the same look he gave to the cameras when he was posing, you felt more than observed, and the fact that you weren’t sure that he does it for the picture or just on purpose bothers you. You decide to move aside to check your theory and as you go to the left, you also see his eyes moving to the left, so you move to the right, and his eyes do the same.

Okay now what..?

“Are you okay?” Beomgyu asks you when he sees you moving in all directions while looking at Taehyun.

“Oh! Yeah, I was just checking something !” You answer taking a relaxed tone to not look suspicious sneaking another look toward Taehyun to see if he was still looking.

But strangely, Taehyun stayed focused on the shooting, it almost bothered you that he didn’t look at you anymore. But you couldn’t say anything since he probably didn’t do it on purpose, but your mind keeps replaying this moment wondering “what if..?”. But after all, you both never really had something.. unfortunately. While you were asking yourself a hundred questions, an unfamiliar voice echoes through the whole room, eventually catching your attention, or maybe because you hear his name in the sentence..

“Taehyun look toward me!” a feminine voice said. While keeping his attitude Taehyun turns his gaze toward the woman, so as you. You want to see who it is so you get a little closer walking behind cameramans discreetly.

You can finally see her, a new face you’ve never seen before.. You naturally look at her badge with her name written on it and instantly, this unfamiliar and curious feeling you got about this random woman gets replaced by a strange feeling of jealousy.

“Ana ?” You think while she takes notes on random stuff about Taehyun’s poses.

You were about to talk to her when another voice interrupts you. “Y/N! Come please!” the manager is calling you. “Yeah!” You answer stepping back, your gaze switching between Ana and Taehyun, all your questions multiplying by hundred. You quickly make your way back toward the spot you were previously at where Soobin was waiting behind the set with some makeup artists around him fixing little details on his makeup.

The manager scolds you “Where were you!? You were supposed to help us with the outfit while Taehyun was shooting!” You couldn’t admit the truth, but talking back was worse so you just apologized, looking down embarrassed. Getting yelled at in public is one of your worst nightmares that you could barely hold back your tears.

“I am sorry..”

“You better be, we struggled to find Soobin’s blazer, it was in the closet in the makeup room and you were the only one who got the keys!” He kept going on and you and felt even more humiliated.

“I am sorry…” you repeat.

“Cut! Change! Soobin’s turn!” A staff member yells as everyone start moving in the room, the makeup artists putting away their stuff, the stylist following behind and Soobin entering on the set ready to pose as Taehyun leaves.

You walk to the back of the room to avoid the crowd or anybody’s gaze after this public humiliation, and sit on a chair staring at yourself. While looking at yourself in the mirrors, you remember something.

Your hands slide in your pockets, looking for those keys the manager talked about, you couldn’t find them.

“Shit..” you curse, panicking, looking around.

“I think you’re looking for this?” A deep voice with a nonchalant tone says behind you followed by clicking sounds. You look up and sees in the mirror reflection, Taehyun holding the keys you were looking for.

“Oh! Yeah, I was looking for them!” You said surprised by his sudden apparition behind you, as you turn around to take the keys of his hands, putting them back inside your pockets.

“Thank you, you’re saving me..!” You sigh relieved. “Where were they ?”

“In my blazer, I think you put them inside before giving it to me but Ana took it and probably not noticed.” You nod understanding before looking at Ana who was taking notes on her paper while Soobin was posing on the set.

“It’s fine, at least I didn’t lose them!” You shrug.

An awkward silence which doesn’t seem to bother Taehyun who keeps showing this unfazed expression wherever he is, on the other hand disturbs you.

“Soo.. What did you think about this shooting ?” You say in a dynamic tone trying to lift up the mood. Your question manages to catch his attention back to you as he turns his head toward you

“Well, I like the role I have in this set, and the ‘romantic’ side of each member is well shown-off with different personality and mine fit really well with the kind of person I would be.”

One thing about Taehyun that always makes you fold and keeps surprising you even if you know him since a while now, is that whenever he talks he looks like everything has a deeper meaning and he wants to add small details in each thing he does. He sounds so smart it makes you listen to him whenever he talks.

“And you?” He replies back.

It catches you off guard because you weren’t used to him asking you questions. You took at least 3 seconds to react, quickly shaking your thoughts off your head to focus back on the conversation.

“Oh? Yeah! Yeah I loved the concept, the set was very pretty and I really like working on the design of this comeback” You nod fast hoping your answer doesn’t sound ‘stupid’ or whatever makes you look nervous since you’re trying to play it cool since the beginning of this conversation.

But, Taehyun’s reaction catches you off guard even more than the previous question.

He chuckles, and.. the way his lips curve in a smirk when he does it drives your attention away from the main topic.

You don’t know how to react so you simply laugh along with him,while your mind is racing with too many thoughts. Your laugh got cut off by Taehyun taking one step closer asking in a quieter voice.

“No I was talking about me…” before adding “What did you think about me?” giving you the same gaze as when he was on set. The same eyes, cold with a hint of lust behind.

So it wasn’t a random move ?! Your cheeks go red while strangely, the temperature becomes hotter in the room despite the cold weather today. “Hot..” was the only word which escapes your lips at this right moment. You couldn’t even realize what you just said when..

“Okay cut! That’s all for today! Good job everyone!” You didn’t know if this stop was a relief or a disappointment, but you couldn’t keep going on this conversation after what happened. Did he really ask your opinion about him during the shooting ? What were you really thinking ? Of course he nailed it ! But on further level..

You sigh “Come on..” you mumble to yourself. Meanwhile everyone starts moving in the room, some staff members leave, some arrive, some people are removing all the stuff on the set, turning off the lights, cleaning everything, people are talking about the shooting as you notice something else.

Where did Taehyun go ? In one second and a wave of people, you lost sight of him. You start looking around in the room and you spot a manager heading toward the exit with the members, Taehyun standing behind them, leaving the room. You only saw his figure moving toward the exit.

You check your phone and realize it’s the break time, so you decide to rest a bit. You also leave the room, heading back toward the makeup room where is a couch at the back. The perfect spot to take a small nap since everyone will probably go to the dining room to eat. You lay down, a heavy breath of relief as you can finally relax before closing your eyes. You don’t even have any idea about when the break ends, you just want to rest.

An hour later

You got woken up by a conversation happening in the room where you were sleeping. It takes you a few seconds to opens your eyes before your realize there is something on you, a blanket. As your eyes are slowly opening themselves, the current conversation in the room takes another tone, that’s when you hear the name “Ana” that your eyes immediately open fully.

The couch you were sleeping on is slightly hidden behind a wall so we can’t see you. You quickly pretend to still be asleep to not get caught as you try to listen to the conversation. You recognize a man’s voice.

You know well this voice, it talked to you barely a few hours ago : Taehyun.

The other voice is a woman’s voice, you didn’t hear it pretty much before but it is still not unknown to you.

“Ana stop this.” Taehyun says in a stern tone.

“Stop what ? You were the one who gave me that look during the shooting !” Ana answers in a sarcastic tone.

What the-? You couldn’t understand what was happening it was too blurry for you to understand, and you just woke up. Your mind was still in between sleep and reality.

“I never looked at you.” Taehyun responds.

“Then what were you looking at ‘cause something definitely caught your attention, you weren’t even looking at the cameras anymore!” Ana continues.

Then, a silence in the conversation fills the whole room.

Suddenly someone enters inside the room. “Ana why are you here, no staff member is allowed to go in the makeup rooms during breaks!” A manager scolds her, opening the door fully gesturing her to leave the room.

No answers, but the close door and there was only one person left in the room now, you weren’t sure whether it was Taehyun or Ana but there was no way you show up since you’re not supposed to be here as well. You discreetly peek behind you trying to see the person in the room with you.

You were about to take a closer look but you hear footsteps coming toward your direction, you immediately hide under the blanket until the person arrives next to you. You feel them touching the blanket slowly removing it.

“Oh no..” you mutter panicked. As the light enlightens your face.

“You are very bad acting.”

There was only one person who could say that kind of stuff in a such voice tone.

You keep your eyes closed wondering if you should open them or not as you feel the the blanket slowly sliding over your body.

“This girl is a whole show in herself.” Taehyun says before continuing. “You should thank me for covering you with my cloth while you were sleeping.”

A cloth ?? You sit up a bit seeing him sitting on a chair in front of you, holding on his laps that grey blazer.

It wasn’t the blanket..? Your mind rushes once again with numerous thoughts.

“Why?” You simply ask very surprised of his move.

“You were trembling like a scared cat, mumbling random stuff in your sleep.” How embarrassing this situation is ?

You scratch your head trying to find an answer.

“Ah I did..?” You laugh nervously “My friends often tell me I have a restless sleep! I always say nonsense haha..”

Taehyun‘s reaction isn’t the one you expected at all, instead of simply showing a unfazed expression or giving a simple answer, he leans in his face closer to yours and says.

“Are you sure you were saying nonsense in your sleep ? Because if you want me to be honest with you..”

He pauses and fixes your hair softly with his hand, tangling his finger between the messy strands.

“.. I think you knew pretty well the topic you were talking about in your sleep. And it had pretty much sense.”

At this right moment, your heart never beat that fast, you are wondering what you could’ve said, there are too many possibilities, you’re thinking about the different scenarios that can happen because he heard you talk. You also wonder if he’s not lying to make fun of you.

Your panicked expression is obvious and he notices it, bringing his hand over your shoulder, rubbing it gently as he talks in a soothing voice to you.

“Don’t worry, I’m not embarrassed or something by you.”

“What did I say..” you ask preparing yourself to the worst.

Taehyun pretends to think as if like he almost forgot. “I don’t remember very well, but you said my name many times..” his voice dropping to a whisper.

That’s right, this is the worst scenario you imagined. Among all the things you could have said in your sleep, his name came out of your mouth. You look away embarrassed before he adds .

“Don’t worry you said nothing weird.” In a more relaxed and cooler tone. You sigh relieved.

You quickly stand up and pick up your phone which fell of your pocket while you were sleeping, and check the time, it was

5:45pm

You kind of overslept but nobody called you ? Before leaving the room you turn around one last time.

“Thanks for the ‘blanket’. “

“No problem.”

Back home, you got a message from the staff team

➜ Tomorrow’s practice session. Everyone on time! 7AM!!

“Ain’t got no choice..” you sigh.

Tomorrow’s morning 7:24

You are waiting in the big practice room with some staff members, it was very silent and nobody has the energy, after a few more minutes the members arrive. Today they practice 0X1=LOVESONG’S choreography, the chorus part.

After a quick warm up, everyone is ready, on their spot. You were standing behind the cameraman to take note of everyone’s position to fix the little mistakes.

“It’s all good!” You give the signal, before the music starts.

Huening-Kai’s movements were very detailed and the dance fits really well with the song, you are glad everything worked out until now.

Suddenly your concentration got disturbed again, by the members switching positions. You didn’t know about the choreography, so everything was new to you, like this moment when Taehyun changed to the center’s position. He brings a new passion to the dance and looked desperate. The way he was playing every words of his lines in his movements.

Suddenly the music stops and the choreographer walks toward the member stopping in front Taehyun giving him an advice about his hands, the way he moves them along with the music.

“You have to make it look you’re really desperate for someone, your line says ‘please use me like a drug’ you have to imagine someone who’s as important as something you can’t get enough of, even more if you can !” the choreographer mimics the movements of the dance and tries to show him how to do.

You look at Taehyun who seems to be thinking about how to do this part of the song.

“Please.. use me like a drug” he repeats doing the movements in a stronger way accenting the desperate behavior in his arms.

You notice how sincere the lyrics are, you never realized before. The music starts again on the part where they stopped and Taehyun does again the line where he did a mistake. And once again, he looks at you, the same eyes, with a serious expression despite the lyrics of the song he’s saying right now.

“Please..” his eyes shifting to look at you.

“…Use me like a drug.”

The music stops and the choreographer applauses him. “That was perfect, just like a pro!”

And immediately Taehyun looks away from you and goes back to a normal attitude.

“Thank you.” he says glad. “Imagining someone I can’t get enough of was easier than I thought.” he changes tone.

You look at again at him surprised, when your gaze meets his a second time.

What is he playing..?!

You keep your cool and head back toward the staff team telling them. “Taehyun’s part is done, there’s nothing else to add.” there was a bit of hurry in your voice, because you want to finish as fast as possible this practice session..

5 months later everything is done! They finished recording the song, the mv, the choreography. It was very tough and dynamic and the hours spent at the studio, the makeup rooms, the meeting rooms… became numerous! But you made it, everyone worked so hard, and it was finally their first performance on stage.

You are a part of the stylists team responsible for everyone’s outfit for this stage. You have to find a white cloth for each member with ripped parts and some accessories. You get a black and white sweater for Taehyun, with ripped jeans.

“The emo style kind of suits him for this song.” You say to yourself.

Someone arrives behind you. “I’ll give it to him !”

You turn around and see Ana.

“Oh? Hum..”

“Don’t worry I’ve got you !” she interrupts you before you could say anything and takes the cloth away from you before leaving the room.

You’re confused but after all she’s a part of the stylists too. You shrug it off and start looking for the other accessories Taehyun will wear on stage. You are about to leave the room to go help Taehyun with them when Ana stops you in tracks, entering in the room almost bumping into you.

“Oh! Hey! Be careful!” she laughs. “Oh these are Taehyun’s accessories, don’t worry I’ll give them to him too!” She takes the belts away from you leaving the room not letting you say a word.

What is she doing ?? This was starting to annoy you.

You decide to keep looking for some clothes to take with you, when you feel a hand wrapping around your waist pulling you backwards. You are in a darker place away from the noise.

“Hey—!” A mouth covers yours, cutting your words off with a forceful kiss. The space is so small you are almost pressed against the person’s chest.

Someone walks in the hallways right next to the corner you are hidden at.

“Where’s Taehyun?” Ana says. You barely realize who is with you, pressing their lips on yours without any explanation when..

“Let me..” The person removes their lips from yours and whispers in your ear, followed by a warm breath next to your neck.

“Taehyun !” A staff member shouts in the hallways.

You need to confirm your doubts so you finally break your silence.

“Taehyun?” You say, hoping it’s nobody else than him.

A small silence in between two heavy breaths..

“Y/n. You know me..” he whispers, bringing his hand to your cheek rubbing his thumb over your lower lip.

“You’re supposed to be on stage right now-!” You tell him worried.

He cuts you off again with another kiss, pressing his lips harder against yours, backing your head on the wall behind you. “I love how worried and protective you are with me..”

“It’s my job!”

“Don’t talk about job or any of your stupid responsibilities..”

“Taehyun I’m gonna be in troubles if you don’t go on stage right now!” You say worried of the consequences.

He sighs. “That’s why we don’t have much time.”

“Time for what ??” You ask confused.

“A fucking quickie..” he groans in your ear.

“Taehyun are you serious right now ? I’m older than you..!”

“So? I have always been interested by you. And it doesn’t matter if you’re older Y/n..” he pauses and wraps his right hand around your waist and the other on your shoulder slowly removing your buttons.

“It’s even better…”

With this, he drops your shirt on the floor, leaving you in tank top.

“Ana is going to worry..” You mumble

“Ana?” He says in a mocking tone.

He brushes his fingers over your bare shoulder before continuing.

“What’s with Ana?”

“She’ll be jealous..”

“Come one Y/n..” he chuckles

“You’re the one who’s being jealous right now..” he teases

“But don’t worry about Ana you will see that she is nothing to me soon.” bringing his hips closer to yours

Despite the fact that you know well that if someone sees you, you’ll be fired right away, you can’t help but thinking about giving this a try. You’ve always wanted to be with him.

Your desires take the best of you and you whisper stuttering your words. “Do you have a condom..”

Taehyun hands stop moving and get replaced by his mouth on your bare shoulders kissing circles patterns on your skin.

“No.. there’s only my microphone in my pockets. Why? You wanna scream on speakers my name ?” He teases biting the strap of your tank top, pulling it down with his teeth revealing more of your skin.

There are too much thoughts in your head to think straightly about an answer, he isn’t helping at all and he knows it.

His hands go lower and rest right above your jeans, undoing them dropping them over your ankles the cold air reaching your legs, making you shiver. He turns your body around your chest stuck against the wall his hips pressed against your butt from behind, a hand on your chest, the other on your shoulder slightly pulling you backwards, making your back arch.

“This position is perfect don’t you think?”

You feel his hand putting more pressure of your chest squeezing your breasts making you react instantly.

“Yes..” you nod.

“Thought so.” A smug on his face as he pulls down his zipper taking out his cock already hard, stroking it slowly while feeling your body in his arms.

“Taehyun we don’t have much time.” You say in a hurry.

“You’re very impatient y/n. You’re one who’s taking it the only thing you should be doing is waiting for me..” he buries his face in your hair, inhaling your scent letting out a content sigh. “The real show is right in front of me, almost naked…

…And the best in this show, is that it’s private.

All for me.”

“Taehyun..” you repeat with a bit of neediness.

He doesn’t listen to your pleas and keeps teasing you, making you wait, knowing that you’ll get even more needy.

Suddenly you hear the speakers turning on and the music starting. They are going to start in just a few minutes.

“You’ve never answered me by the way.” He says in a more casual tone.

“About what..?” You ask confused.

“What did you think about me during the shooting.” He suddenly pushing himself inside you.

You almost yelp out loud but quickly cover your mouth with your hand.

“You did well..!” You whimper, your breath hitching on the rhythm of his thrusts. His grip on your breast tightens as he pulls you backwards making your back arch even more.

“I’m glad y/n. You didn’t lie, because I saw your eyes that day.”

“What.. are you talking… about Taehyun ?”

“Come on.. you remember that day.” He acts hurt and thrust himself harder in you.

You moan out loud, your hands trying to keep their hold on the wall. His hips go slower as he pulls out his microphone of his pockets and puts it in front of your mouth.

“If you wanna say something, tell it to all our fans.” he mocks before picking up speed immediately thrusting even deeper inside you.

He knows exactly what he is doing to you right now and this doesn’t help you to keep your calm.

The only thing you did was to clench even more around him. Your body is taking so much pleasure at the same time that your words can’t barely follow.

Your reaction manages to affect Taehyun’s body too, he drops the microphone on the floor a loud cracking noise coming out of the speakers. He grips your body tighter and brings his chest against your back leaning his chin over your shoulder breathing heavily next to your ear.

“Noona…” he breathes out.

“You’re so tight..” he groans out. The way he sounds so turned on gets you more and more hot. He pumps his hips faster.

“Let me cum inside you..”

He never called you noona before, so the way he said it for the first time, at this right moment makes it even more.. soft yet hot.

His cock warms up your insides, a wave of pleasure at each thrusts. You move your hand over the one which was squeezing your breast . “You can cum inside.. me” a soft moan escapes your mouth.

There’s nothing more to say, with a low groan and one last thrust, he pushes himself deep inside you filling you up. The feeling is so overwhelming yet so good. You rest your forehead against the cold wall panting as he pulls out, his grip on you loosening.

You both don’t exchange a single word for a few seconds before you hear the manager walking by the hallways again, calling Taehyun.

“Taehyun!”

Taehyun doesn’t sound worried at all, he is too caught by the moment you two just had.

He pants again.

“Noona..”