#Im feeling more and more done with all this *sigh*
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the prettiest girl in the whole wide world🥹
this was requested, thank you for the request babydoll☺️
an: this is for all the besties who are letting billies hair grow on them! while i can’t not drool over billie for long, i did in fact cut my own hair recently so that when i blow dried it, it resembled hers specifically🫣 (like i pulled up the oscar’s photo at my appt. and everything😭😂) so i too will mourn the long hair, but likeeeeeee 🤭🤭🤭 billie’s too pwetty for me to mourn for too long!
alsooooo, i’ve been yappppppping about it all weekend on here but in all seriousness, i feel like she’s just really stepping into herself and getting more comfy with that, and if her hair is helping with that, then im the happiest girl in the world for her:) as a fellow 22/23 year old figuring herself out, i feel for her🥹
warnings: reader being a bittttt dramatic, sad billie for like two seconds, allusion to smut🫣, this story is not meant to be hating on her hair‼️ it’s just meant to be silly so pls don’t take it too seriously! not a warning but claudia’s in here! i don’t see enough of her in fics, so future mrs. finneas is here today!
It had been a long night of fun and incredible performances and you and Claudia were buzzing with anticipation waiting for your lovers to come out. Being the true rockstar girlfriends you were, the two of you had been sitting together towards the back in a little VIP section with the other performers families and friends.
“They’re gonna be playing on the same stage as him,” I stated in shock as Sting continued to perform. Claudia laughed at my starstruckness in agreement. Claudia being the vet rockstar girlfriend she is was used to the frequent celebs and living legends, while you on the other hand were still a little starry eyed.
Regardless, the two of you had been having a fun evening. But as their performance drew closer, you both looked nervous. You knew why you were nervous, but why was Claudia?
As Sting himself introduced your girlfriend and her brother, the crowd erupted in cheers, making you giggle in pride as everyone loved on them.
You looked over at Claudia and smiled before turning your attention back to the stage as Billie started to speak. But something caught your eye.
“Claud what’s going on with her bangs?” You asked with a small giggle, figuring it was from your girlfriend was scootering around backstage instead of running a brush through her long hair like you usually would before her tour shows.
Claudia continued singing along, having not heard you, or so you thought. Claudia pretended not to hear because she was one of the first to see Billie earlier today after she cut her hair. She knew I would love it, I was just a little startled at sudden changes no matter how small. And I was in love with her long dark hair, and everyone knew it. I always hand a hand running though it, and I was always the one braiding it before her shows.
As Billie continued to bless the crowd with her vocals on Wildflower, I was distracted for a second by the echoing backing vocals coming from the crowd, making me a bit emotional. But my attention went right back to her hair when I looked back at Billie.
“Claudia… did she cut her hair?!” You bumped her hip and looked at her with wide eyes. She turned to face you and nodded with an ambiguous look in her eyes. Did you love it? Did you hate it? She couldn’t tell.
“When did she do that??” You asked with a giggle, and Claudia sighed out a laugh herself. Of course your first concern was with her schedule. You knew today was a busy, fast paced day and could not imagine Billie having a second to breathe let alone get her hair done.
You looked back over at the siblings as they started their next song but now all you could see was her hair. The once pin straight, long layers, were now a textured mix of waves and shorter layers, with some more framing around her face. As Billie sang her heart out, your mind was conflicted.
You loved the long shiny hair… but this new look… was also kinda hot.
Claudia looked back over at you and saw that thinking look in your eye. She threw an arm around your shoulder and shook it a bit before leaning down to giggle and say,
“It’s just hair babes. And if it makes you feel better, I have zero clue what Finneas has been doing with his lately.” That sent you into a fit of laughter, both of you doubled down cackling. You then threw your own arm around Claudia’s waist as they started “Birds of a Feather”.
“I know, I know. I’m being a little crybaby. But I’m gonna miss the blowout!” You said with a dramatic pout.
The two of you danced around, pointing at Billie and Finneas as you sang along to the infamous song, before you were being escorted backstage by your security.
Your heart was pounding. How were you going to react up close? I mean god she’s so pretty, but what about the new style? You love her always and as her girlfriend love everything she does, so this was a new feeling for you. A normal one, but new.
The two of you flopped down on some couches in her dressing room waiting for the pair to head backstage. The clock on the wall seemed to scream at you with every tick. Your leg bounced and you stomach started to hurt. Why did you feel like this??
The feeling immediately passed the second the door opened, and your pretty girl walked through with a sheepish smile on her face.
“Babyyyyy!!!!” She cried out, walking straight to you with open arms. You giggled as she smothered you in a bear hug while pressing kisses all over your face.
“Hi my love!” You said quietly, leaning back to get a good look at her.
“So.. I cut my hair today.” She said in her infamous little voice, making your nerves dissipate immediately. You sighed with a warm smile at her. Yeah, you couldn’t stay conflicted for long.
“I noticed my love,” You threaded your fingers through the layers, your smile only growing.
“You’re thinking about me at the oscar’s last year aren’t you,” Billie said with a sad smile.
“Maybe! It looked so pretty that night, can you blame me?” You giggled, but your giggles softened when Billie’s giggles didn’t match yours.
“Hey,” you said, sitting her down on the couch, Claudia and Finneas had already went back to his dressing room leaving you alone.
“How did I react when I came home from school one semester to you with blonde hair?” You asked softly.
“You said you missed my green highlighter-ness,” she said with a chuckle. Remembering how silly I was acting. “But then you told me I looked like sleeping beauty,” she said with a blush.
“And how did I react when you chopped it all off?”
“You kinda giggled in shock and pretended to be mad, but you fell asleep with your whole hand stuck in my hair, scratching my scalp.” Her smile was growing now.
“And when you took away my beloved red roots?” You said with a theatrical groan, officially getting Billie’s smile back.
“You moped around for like days about that babe,” She said with a chuckle.
“I did not!!” You softly hit her shoulder, giggling at her very true statement, knowing how much you loved the red.
As her laughter died down, you pushed her bangs out of her eyes and held her cheeks before kissing her nose.
“And what do I always tell you after all that?”
Billie flushed furiously, something only you could do and took great pride in.
“Mmmm I don’t think I remember what you told me…” She said in her little voice, looking around goofily. “I think you need to remind me.”
“Well, I have always told you, and will continue to tell you, no matter what your hair looks like, you my love *cheek kiss* are officially *other cheek kiss* the prettiest *forehead kiss* most beautiful *nose kiss* more perfect *corner of her lips* girl in the whole wide world.”
Billie’s cheeks hurt from the combined flush and from how hard she was smiling.
“So…. you like it?” She said sheepishly.
“Ok duh, you look so fucking hot. You could wear a potato sack and I’d still be on my knees.” Billie cackles at your statement, pulling you onto her lap to hug you.
“Thank you lovey. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I was doing this. The opportunity was there and I’ve been wanting to try something new with my hair lately, so I went for it.”
“Baby, you don’t ever have to apologize for something like this. If it makes you happy, and makes you feel good… and it makes you look this fucking hot, I’m all for it sexy girl.” Billie smiled before leaning in to kiss you properly.
Her hand rested on your waist while the other snuck down to your ass, squeezing lightly. Your hands moved from their spot on her shoulder up to her hair, threading through the layers and pulling lightly making Billie groan into the kiss.
She pulled away with a smirk, “Oh so you really like it,” she said before pressing a kiss to your jaw.
“Mmmm hmmmmm.” You nodded biting your lip, a sparkle in your eyes.
“You wanna show me how much you like it mama?” She whispered, her other hand snaking down to your ass.
You didn’t even have to speak, just one look from you going from doe eyes to ravenous and the two of you packed up and ran out of there so fast, where you inevitably spent all night showing her how much you love it.
As the two of you laid in bed later that night, Billie had her head resting on your bare chest, her hand on your tummy. She felt your fingers playing with her hair slow down and your breathing start to even out a bit, and making her smile… and then giggle at the feeling of your hand tangled up in her hair as it always was.
an: if you couldn’t tell, it’s grown on me al lot🫣🤭 she seriously could wear a potato sack and she’d still look so beautiful🤭☺️
#billie eilish x you#billie eilish#wlw#billie eilish fluff#fanfiction#billie eilish x reader#billie eilish x fem!reader#billie eilish x y/n#billie eilish fanfiction#billie eilish fic#billie x you#billie eilish smut#billie x reader
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playing dangerous | k.dy
→bff’s stepdad!doyoung x f!reader
genre: smut, semi-angst, some fluff, forbidden affair, semi-character study
synopsis: summers are meant to be spent having fun with your best friend not fooling around with her step father.
warning(s): ADULTS ONLY, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! cheating, age gap (not focused between mcs), yearning, power imbalance, massive frued psychosexual theory undertones (that old man won), morally grey characters, alluding to cycle of predation and abuse of power, manipulation, lowkey ageism, doyoung heavy mommy issues (worrying actually), oral (m receiving), cum kiss, fingering, foot play, unprotected sex, creampie, voyeurism.
wc: 15.8k || anthology masterlist || soundtrack || ao3
© 2025 YOJEONGIN all rights reserved — please DO NOT translate, take, nor repost any of my works on other platforms. reblogs are HIGHLY appreciated and preferred!
disclaimer: this is purely fictional; in no way am I condoning this behavior, trying to offend anyone, nor is it meant to place such image on the idol, these are only characters. read at your own discretion.
an: sorry this took longer than expected, im 3hrs late oops. the corporate lifestyle has been kicking my ass so bad (im so fucking miserable) and i wasn't satisfied with what i was going to post last week anyway so hope this is better (hope).
“Are you sure that’s your step dad and not step brother?”
Disbelief was too soft of a word for what you truly thought. When your friend had given you notice that her mother had married her boyfriend of two years (news to you), you had expected the man to be decrepit and gray haired. Not someone not too much older than what you were.
Earlier you had confused him with one of the movers who helped bring in your friend’s and her mother’s items into the new home. You went as far as shooting him a flirty smile while making way to your friend who sat peacefully on the porch swing with a glass of cold lemonade to aid her from this horrid summer heat.
“Yeah…“ she whines, throwing her head back enough to hit herself a tad with the backrest. “He makes her happy. As long as he does, I don’t care how old he is.” She felt judged by your constant questioning. As if she was the one marrying the man. As if she was living through her mother and her decisions to wed someone significantly younger than her. You were the last person she wanted to feel judged by, however could they truly blame your incessant curiosity and shock? Specifically when you never knew her mother was dating. What kind of best friend are you to not be as close as you believed?
Meghan wasn’t the youngest, the woman was sixty and this man looked to be in his late twenties. How could they blame you for your curiosity?
“So how old is he?” You shift beside her, the swing rocking with every move. “He turned thirty in February. She hasn’t had a partner since I can remember, this is good for her.” Her words attempt to convince her more than you, emphasized by the harsh desperate slurping within the empty glass.
Your friend turned 25 in February too.
“Oh wow, so since he was a kid too?” You joke. It doesn’t land.
“Y/n!” She hits your arm, you laugh in return. “What?!” You whine through laughs, this time purposely rocking the swing. “Come on…” It aches like nails on a chalkboard if she thinks about it. Meghan is her mother, she could easily be Doyoung’s mother as well. She knew Doyoung's mother.
“I know what you’re thinking.” She sighs, hands and glass on her lap. “Yes, the age gap is insane but… they’re old enough.” Your friend frowns, another attempt to convince herself and failing miserably.
Raising your hands in defeat, she smiles, continuing her playful acts of harm. “Want a glass?” She offers, you decline, your mind stuck on the beautiful man standing roughly a few feet away from where you two sat. Your head struggles to not turn his way and gawk like you’ve done earlier. It's difficult, you'll find throughout these months.
You knew you shouldn’t be fawning the way you are. After all, he is now Meghan’s husband. Meghan who has treated you like her own child since Pre-K. But God, you couldn’t help admire the way sweat rolled down his face and the way he wiped it away with the back of his delicate hands.
At this moment, you’re not too bitter about your summer plans being halted. Not when he’s noticed your covetous glances and sly grins. Perhaps that's what started it all. Your restraint, pulling him step by step to where you sat. Sweat adorning his face and forcing his hair to frame his beautiful features, glistening in this sun.
A tender smile to the public eye but a reciprocative grin to you, “Welcome girls.” He smiles, wiping his sweaty forehead with a handkerchief. “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to pick you up from the airport.” He turns halfway to look at the movers entering the home. “Duty calls.”
He was cliche with his words, yet smooth enough to make your grin widen. Like a white collar in those vintage Hollywood movies. His voice, softer than imagined. He drew you in the same way you drew him. It was bound to happen.
Tina shook her head, a dismissive and polite smile. She covers her eyes from the sun which did not ambush either. Rather, it was a futile attempt to shield her emotions, easily projected onto her eyes. It’s not resentment she felt towards him. Discomfort and confusion for his decisions is.
Doyoung looks at you briefly, as if to say “I suppose we are not there yet?”, answered by your own polite smile. He dismissed it immediately, shaking his head with a slight chuckle which forced Tina to uncover her eyes, confused.
“Will you be a dear and get me a drink?” He asks when their eyes finally meet. If it means that he won’t read her any longer, Tina nods standing up. She’s out of the picture faster than he had asked without a care that Doyoung took her spot next to you.
Doyoung smiles your way, his knee bumping into yours while he settles. You return the smile, looking at the contact. Your legs criss-crossed on the swing and his rocking you both. It’s silent besides the movers and Meghan’s music inside the home. Nevertheless, this feels comfortable, scarily so for a first-time meeting.
“I’m sorry for being the reason you two had to cancel your trip.” Doyoung leans over, elbows on his thighs. His back is on full display, wet shirt clinging to the wide muscles that force your lower lip in between your upper teeth.
Your eyes don’t unglue from him, chills running across your body for such a warm day. You sigh, following a streak and bead of sweat from his temple down to his neck. “It's fine, we didn't want to walk around for hours and see old buildings.” You reassure sarcastically, although the tone deadpans.
“No? But Italy is very beauteous. Meghan recounted, you two had been planning on it as an incentive to get through grad school. I'm truly sorry for the inconvenience.”
Doyoung did not expect to be met with laughter. He was soft spoken, tender, genuinely sorrowful, and a welcoming host. Why must you laugh at him? He’s not too sure.
His quizzical look does not subside, “I was joking, Mr. Kim.” You giggle, wiping at your threatening tears. His eyebrows furrow, yet, folds his handkerchief to a clean corner, doing the task for you. He's so close. So comfortable with being this near to a complete stranger.
“You’re narrowly five years younger than I. Please don't call me that.” He defends petulantly, forgetting about what brought you both to this topic. It sounds insane and dumb to be called that as if he was his father or an old man, he was only thirty.
It is insane and so is marrying a woman who was his current age when he was born.
You hum a response, turning away from him with a slow nod. “Do you always talk like that?” Your voice lures him again, craning his head to look at you. “Like you’re a pretentious liberal arts professor.” It’s lighthearted and mocking at the same time. Your smile slowly forms and he mirrors it.
“My father is a professor. Not for the liberal arts though but perhaps it rubbed off.” “Perhaps.”
He laughs softly in light of your continuing mockery, “Y/n, correct? I fear I haven’t properly introduced myself.” Doyoung shifts in his spot, his body facing you. He extends his hand and you take it. His fingers are nimble and long, his palms clammy but soft, and his grasp is strong but delicate against your own.
Your smile doesn’t falter, thumb caressing his knuckles, an act he replicates against your own. “Yes… beautiful house by the way. What do you do for a living?" You ask curiously, met by a scolding shriek when Tina and Meghan come out with glasses of lemonade, something you did not want. Lemonade and their interruption, it's interchangeable.
"Y/n those things are not asked!" Meghan scolds, handing Doyoung his glass. He laughs, shaking his head while taking a sip. You watch some of it slip from the corner of his lip. He is such an unfortunate person when it comes to liquids, it seems. Regardless, you wondered what it would be like to clean it off of him…
Someone cleanse you of these thoughts, this is forbidden grounds.
"Why not?" You ask confusedly, looking at the components inside the cup. Nothing but murky pulp-filled sweet water. Your emotions present on your face, perceived wrongly by the only man there who felt it was your response to being scolded. "It's completely fine to ask that now, don't worry." Meghan shoots him a look, irksome at the use of 'now'. She doesn't have to wonder what he meant, only in dissecting his tone.
"I'm an aerodynamicist. Right now we're working on finding a solution to reduce the consumption of fuel." His voice is a pitch higher, tossing that pretentious tone to his words, forgetting his drink while fully turning to everyone as he excitedly gets into the topic. "The main culprit —or so we think— is the wings… let's say the wings of an aircraft. Their shape to be specific contributes to th—" Before he could finish, Meghan hums interrupting. Her words later followed, "Yeah, yeah, sounds fun. Dinner is ready so it's best we stop the chit-chat if we want something warm to eat."
Both you and Tina turn to her mother, a quick glance full of judgment and some surprise. She's never interrupted any of you when passionately speaking about your interests, this was new. Tina doesn't dare look at Doyoung though, she simply walks back inside with her still full drink in hand. Meghan on the other hand waits for him to stand up and follow her. His shoulders slumped and head low, a reassuring smile thrown your way but his dull eyes say otherwise.
"We're glad to have you girls here." Doyoung utters with a nod, turning to follow his wife. "Welcome." The only thing that leaves Meghan's lips. At the time it sounded like that, a welcoming. Now you realize she was responding to the expected devout gratitude for taking you in all those years ago and even now.
What a way to introduce their relationship to you. What a way to cement the reality of the dynamics between all.
There was a foreign air after that fateful day, something you had never expected when it came to spending time with your best friend and her mother. This was stuffy and suffocating. You chopped it to the different location, you will soon find it's the repressed feelings of everyone in this house and of those that lived before.
Meghan tried her best to not show her unwillingness towards her husband, yet it was evident to all that she held animosity for some odd reason. No amount of smiles and reassuring pats could tell any of you otherwise but they satiated him and no one would interfere with that.
Doyoung was doting and sweet. He immersed in conversations to learn more about his guests and later rewarded them with things mentioned in passing. This was his way of showing his affection. It became paternal in a way that you didn't like and in a way that made Tina uncomfortable but which she could understand. Odd, extremely so, considering he could easily be her brother. If she was to voice her dilemmas, Doyoung would fully understand. Yet like you've told her before: "If you don't speak, God won't hear you."
To you, Doyoung was yet another guy that could have been in your college classes. He made sure to act like it when he finally got comfortable and that resulted in joking and lax conversations about his interests and yours, similar to the first day. Giggles and lingering touches, too close at times for two strangers. This way he felt young and correct again.
The downside came the following day, going back to that paternal and reserved front as if he was the same age as his wife and not what he portrayed with you. Treating you and Tina like kids and that's what you both loathed about his time with Meghan. She only seemed to suck the life out of him when night fell.
Doyoung pandered to her and was at her feet with anything she asked, yet she still patronized him and shut him down when he spoke of his career and parents. Meghan never outright spoke of it but she loathed when he brought up his parents. She hated the house, the basement, the attic, the garden, and the greenhouse. She hated that damn greenhouse more than anything.
You couldn't understand where her feelings stood. She had a family, a complete family. A loving and providing husband, a daughter that would always be there for her, and an established and stable home that was all hers for the time being. What more could she ask for?
Despite Meghan's and Tina's inability to feel at home, you found yourself to fit right in in every groove.
Your bare feet are met with soft dewy kisses from the garden's grass as you sprint inside the house towards Doyoung's study. Leaving a trail of dew on the wooden floorboards. Meghan observes you from the kitchen island, pursed lips and raised glasses as you turn the corner and to the hall where those dark panel mahogany double doors greet you, brightening with every knock.
It takes three rhythmic knocks for him to know it's you. Uttering a 'come in' with a light hum. Instinctively, you smile to yourself, hand turning the now golden door knob. Not feeling the grooves of mosaic crystal and cold copper makes you frown. So does the untouched silver tray of breakfast.
You step over it when making your way inside, closing the door behind you and leaning against the cold wood when he does not turn around. Sunlight peaks through the large glass stained bow windows, his desk perfectly curved to fit into the space. The decor on the windows are your favorite.
The greens and pinks perfectly project onto his skin, making him look diaphanous. The lilies and hummingbird paint a story of near-to-death flowers seeking ailment before they perish and like the knights they are, the hummingbirds come to their aid to bring them back to life. He explained it in the way his father had, revealing his mother to be the hummingbird and his father to be the lilies saved from the misery he was in. That explains the devout love his parents had, manifested all throughout the house and the one Doyoung sought.
He now finds the story to be the other way around with no happily ever after. There's no salvation this time.
When he finally turns, he greets you with a tired smile, shoulders slumped and neck aching. He slept on the chaise lounge. The uncomfortable and awfully warm upholstered leather chaise lounge that's too short for his height. He's been there the entire day after last night's argument with Meghan over her trying to clear out his mother's greenhouse and build a shed for her crafts room. She's not content with the basement and she is not content with him giving you your individual room.
"Found you some critters." You open, his smile widens when you pull out the worn paper bag he gave you to put them in. Walking towards him, he takes it from your hands, nimble fingers gracing your drying ones. "Found these stiff on the tomato pots." You point at the caterpillars. "This butterfly was stuck to the tree trunk. Is it acting or actually dead?" Doyoung lets out a sly hum. "No… it does seem like it's near death, though." taking the butterfly out of the bag.
He looks at it for a moment, noticing the lower wings are damaged but covered by the upper wings. "There… clipped." He gently moves the upper wings with the tweezers. "Rather dramatic if you ask me. She is fine to fly but a little caring should not be bad." He stands from his seat, knees cracking to indicate his lack of movement. He places her in the terrarium, it hops around seeking the flowers you've helped him pick.
It's silent for a moment, he hums a melody while scolding the butterfly as he feeds her sugar water. You sit on his desk chair, swiveling while drumming around the taxidermy scalpels — A few of these have left some scratches on your fingers. He makes sure to lock his items inside his desk drawers, Meghan has explained her disdain and disgust for his hobby and in fear of her digging through and tossing them like she's done with the taxidermy decor, he takes extra precautions.
"Why haven't you eaten?"
Your voice makes him turn, closing the door to the terrarium. He leans against the table, crossing his arms across his chest and taking a grasp of his jaw. Rubbing it as if he was thinking of an answer. He can't lie to you though, he knows you're able to see through his lies. At least surface level, it's the small things he grants you.
"I don't like omelettes. She knows that." He confesses. "I don't like black tea and that is what's on the tray." Your leg raises, feet now dry but stained with that yellow-green hue. Your cheek rests against your bruised knee while taking in his words. He watches all your actions, biting the inside of his cheek as punishment for looking at your limbs.
"Want me to make you anything?" There's some innocence in your voice that warms his chest. Interlaced with your desire to please. Please, please, please.
He smiles fondly, eyes fluttering, and a warm feeling in his chest.
"Don't coddle me." "Generosity."
He slowly approaches you, rearranging the scalpels you played with. He looks down, analyzing you like you were one of his dissected butterflies. Pretty, soft, and delicate. Doyoung knows it's wrong to think of you this way. He's allowed Meghan to fuck the thoughts away from him but they cling to his brain while they're at it. It's vile and disgusting. The act to be precise.
"Is she still upset about the room?" You look up at him, resting against the backrest. He takes a closer look at your outfit. Denim high rise shorts, white lace short strap top, and red ribbon in your hair that he wrapped around the strands a while ago and you never got rid of. The same one he uses to decorate bigger taxidermy species like the squirrels the neighborhood cat leaves laying on the porch. You want to think it's metaphoric but you sound stupid trying to find a connection despite the words lingering in the tip of your tongue. Fresh and clear on his mind.
"I don't mind taking the attic, it's nice and cozy. Your dad did a good job decorating it." A reassuring smile that he does not accept. "What are you, Harry Potter? It's your room and it's my house." That first day during dinner, Doyoung expressed his gratitude to you for being part of their family. It did not pertain to him, he believed family deserved their own space.
His actions worked to ease and win Tina over even if it was a tad but Meghan felt a stabbing sense in her lower stomach and a scratch in her brain that made a whirling dark orb manifest. It's the same feeling that brews the longer she stands behind those mahogany doors hoping to hear what is said but the whispered mutters and her aged ear drums hand no aid.
Doyoung pulls his footstool, taking a seat before you. His hands trickle down to your foot, picking off the remaining blades that stain his own hands. He looks up at you when he reaches for a wipe, the green stains cling when the fabric graces the arch of your sole.
"It tickles." You state, he hums. Fingers press harder. "Better?" You nod. He looks at you during the ministration, putting your foot down delicately to do the same with the other. You watch his every move and he receives your gaze with a smile when he meets it. "My mom would do this when I would run around the garden. She hated when I left stains on the floors. Said they wouldn't come off but when I would go to sleep she painted over the footprints and re-stain the floor." He smiles fondly, warming up your skin from the cold, damp wipe. His fond touch doing most of the job.
"It sounds like a prank that turned into preservation. Maybe she liked seeing your growth. Meghan marked our growth on the walls of her apartment. I'm sure the landlord has painted over them now."
He hums, taking in the comparison. It's cute, nice and nostalgic but it highlights the passage of time and how mortal things seem around you and the other two. How mortal things around him can be too.
Doyoung is doting and sweet. Soft and gentle, immersing himself in his actions to not hurt the other. You envy Meghan, you're sure of it now.
"You should really put shoes on, I can't keep cleaning your feet." "You have no obligation."
He looks at you the way Mary Magdalene did when washing Jesus' feet. He looks at you like his savior and redeemer, you're not sure why or you haven't been able to fully understand him yet.
He nods, his growing finger nails pinching below your toes. You wince, confusedly looking at him. "The critters will recognize your pattern and their missing friends. Don't cry when you're pinched," He playfully scolds the way his parents used to do; voice lowering upon seeing a shadow come from under the doors. "I won't be able to kiss the pain away." He raises your foot, the action new but comforting to your taste. His eyes don't tear away when his plush lips come in contact with your newly cleaned feet. It's soft, warm, sort of wet but nice enough for you to let your hand reach for where he touches.
This is wrong, plentiful wrong but Adam (Doyoung) will drag you to take a bite of that forbidden fruit if he keeps going.
Something ate away at Meghan the longer she stood behind those thick doors. The same way ants crawled around the food she had made him earlier. That made her aching worse and if she didn't open those doors now, she won't remain sane.
She takes a few breaths in, noise seizing to come through, making things far more unsettling. Decidedly, she pushes through, opening both doors dramatically, taking in the image of her husband and faux daughter. Her eyes waver as her voice wants to do. Impotence and defeat.
Nothing.
"Must you punish me?" She directly questions. Her eyes fleeting to your lax position on his chair, recognizing the ribbon from the decor she threw out and his proximity to you. "You can't knock?" He turns his attention back to his craft, as if he had not been kneeling before you seconds prior. "Rehydration solution, Y/n."
With a syringe, he injects it onto the body of the second butterfly while you wet a paper towel, taking a beaker of solution to the other side of the room. You don't speak, following the steps he's taught you in the process.
"It's my house." Meghan states. "It's my house." Doyoung corrects.
The older woman glares. If looks could kill, the house would be hers once and for all.
"The ants are eating your breakfast." "Oh good, they'll stay away from the peonies."
He smiles to himself, Meghan can't see it but she's sure of it and that irks her more. She turns to your moving figure, handing him a warmer solution to pour in the container and put the critters in. Taking in the interaction, her eye spasms. The green stains on his slacks and your clean feet. She has no proof nor a concrete case but she knows it was nothing decent. Disturbed by the bond, she swallows her huff but not the irking orb that eats away her love for you.
"Y/n, give us some alone time." She bites, her words laced with the venom of the centipede he's wrapping around stiff caterpillars. "We're not done with this." He tuts. Meghan, appalled by his opposition, allows her jaw to slack. Her emotions are rampant and fiery that he would contradict her. That he found it in himself to not slouch his shoulders and go along with her decisions.
Your gaze flits between them, their glaring not seizing. The tension is palpable, leading you to fumble the cloth holding onto the piping hot beaker. You know how hot glass can be but when you're the magnetic pull that's causing this, it's something you don't focus on.
Your shriek forces them to break their combat, that motherly look Meghan often had returns when she sees your irritated hand and the way you fall back onto his chair the moment the scalding solution splashes over your bare feet.
They rush towards you, watching their step over the broken pieces of glass. While Meghan attempts to question if you're okay, Doyoung is already in the process of rubbing Silvadene over the light burn of your palm. She watches in amazement how delicate he is. His fingers grace over the skin, if it wasn't stinging you'd repeat that it tickles. And if his wife wasn't here, he'd replicate the image of soothing your aching feet with kisses.
With every passing second, Meghan feels that obscure orb grow and grow. Her motherly instinct is consumed by it, disgusted queries plaguing her heart and soul seeing him sit on the foot stool and place your feet over his lap. This is how the stains on his slacks came to be. His nimble digits rubbing the ointment on noticeable ailments and on spots you pointed at with minute pained whimper that she'll take as pleasure.
This isn't right. Meghan no longer feels like a mother to you. And this is only one of many instances her feelings are reassured.
Doyoung didn’t want to argue any longer in the dark depths of his cold bedroom. It was amazing how quickly his marriage was falling apart in the span of a few weeks when the two shared a beautiful —so he’s forcing himself to think— relationship. Now all he can do is whisper his grievances to his wife who finds it disrespectful that he’s rebutting her own arguments due to his age.
Meghan will never say it out loud but she respects Doyoung less and expects him to treat her like his superior for said gap, forgetting they were in a relationship and should both treat each other accordingly and not like mother-son; disgustingly.
Said argument is what led a tired Doyoung to sigh heavily on his way out of the bedroom in hopes of relaxation by either watching something in the media room or basking in the night’s breeze while sitting on the porch swing with a glass of whiskey on the rocks or an ice cold beer.
The latter makes him smile fondly.
Decidedly, Doyoung pads towards the kitchen, his bare feet absorbing the coldness of the wooden floors, ignoring his scolding after you burnt your feet. The closer he got to the large room, the sound of his padding mellowed out compared to the rummaging of items. For a second he feared they'd gotten an infestation of mice. It would not be the first time the house had any.
His inquiries were disposed of once reaching the kitchen when he saw such a pretty image that made him relax. And similar to the mice he once fended against years ago with his father, you sat in front of the fridge, feasting, with a bottle of whipped cream at hand. Allowing the sweet dairy to fall upon a strawberry that you indelicately shoved into your mouth without a care that its juice spilled from the corner of your lips and the dairy followed behind, creating a light pink ribbon to decorate your pretty lips the way those glosses you often smear do.
It oddly reminds him of the first day you two met. He looks at you the same way you looked at him. Lingering and foreign attraction, although it's not so foreign now.
It's not right, but you're closer and closer to taking a bite out of that apple.
You don't bother cleaning the cream off, continuing to push the berries into your mouth. One after another as your stomach yearns for more. You could’ve continued, although halt at his endeared chuckle. You're startled, feeling a cold sweat wash through your entire body. If there was one thing you hated was people catching you eating late at night. More so when you're filling your aching body with self targeted disgust and sweets. Like a child, the one he treats you as when the other two are near but forgotten about when it's just you two.
This is what holds you back, the apple seems so rotten and further at times.
Doyoung doesn't speak, walking towards you with a napkin in hand, taken on his way. He crouches down to your level, making you break out of that frozen state. “I’m sorry…” you whisper, eyes following his, seeking any reaction. “For what?” He questions sweetly, hand cupping your jaw softly. Shooting you a quick glance and smile before continuing his ministration.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have come down to eat in secrecy.” You swallow hard, a lump formed in your throat with his touch, unaware of when. “I know she doesn't like it but usually she comes up to tell me dinner was ready and…” You shrug, meek voice making his chest compress, he senses unwarranted guilt. As if it was your fault his wife kept using food as punishment.
Meghan had told him you were asleep, not that she didn't let you know dinner was ready and that disquiets him. His eyebrows furrow, other hand reaches your face, softly wiping the strawberry juice with his thumb. Licking it beforehand. Doyoung is closer and closer with every passing day. Just last night his touch lingered in between your thigh and knee, you imagine he'll reward you and slip his fingers between your lips soon. Whichever ones and you won't be opposed to it like prior times.
Doyoung gives you a semi-scolding look, “I've told you before. It's my house, you can eat whenever and whatever you want, Y/n." He pats your cheek, pecking it for reassurance. The action startles you every time. They never feel soft and innocent. Always intentional but when he pulls back and gives you a reassuring smile, it forces you to ponder how much you want his generosity to be more than that? It's wrong, you're aware of it, always will be.
His touch lingers a little longer, fleeting stares from your own eyes to lips as his pads waltz across your skin until he finally finds it in himself to let go. “Still hungry?” He asks, helping you up. Ready to deny, your stomach rumbles loudly, giving you no time to privy it of its rights for yet another day. Doyoung simply nods with a smile, cocking his head to the entrance.
“Put your shoes on, let's see what's open at this hour.” “It’s very late to eat a big meal, Mr.Kim…”
The smile on his lips attempts not to falter at what you call him. Doyoung hated it with his entire soul. You weren't going to seize as long as he didn't seize treating you like Tina, like you're his stepdaughter too. Although, in this instant it's punishment for making you feel so ill and needy.
You want more, you crave more, but you can't have more.
It's odd to you how both can easily bask in the delicacy of tense intimacy and this… disgusting forced idea of a familial relationship at times. Especially when they would intertwine like it is now. You hate him for it sometimes. 'Coward' is what bounces in your head often when his touch lingers just to treat you like he treats Tina when his sick brain tells him to.
Regardless, Doyoung doesn't get to respond or scold, his bedroom door slams and Meghan has reached the kitchen watching as he crouches over you. She sees the dirtied napkin and your red lips. She sees his hand ghosting over your cheek and the (bitter) smile he had falters when his eyes land on her. While with you it was full of fondness and amusement (she believes), disgust greets her. She's been aware of it for a while now.
"Y/n go to your room." She demands lowly, her hands clinging to her sleeping pants. "No." Doyoung interferes, and like that day in his study, Meghan glares at him, offended by his insistence on speaking back to her like a child disrespecting their elders. "Go to sleep." She grits out, turning to you. You stand up, keeping a distance from Doyoung who immediately speaks. "Go put your shoes on, let's go get you something to eat."
Meghan's lips fall ajar. A scoff and slight cackle hearing his words and the soft look he shoots you. "Are you fucking serious right now?" She asks infuriated, walking closer and slapping his hand off of your arm which aided in stabilizing you when getting up.
"She's hungry, Meghan." Doyoung spits back, disgust building in his gaze. His wife shoots him a response with hers, almost saying "That's not my concern." but the words don't leave her for she knows it will push things further. It's futile, Doyoung scowls and his head slowly shakes the longer he looks at her. There it is, that disgust once again and it eats away at her.
"You told me she was asleep. I didn't take you for someone gluttonous." Meghan could only describe the brewing feeling as embarrassment and pure seething rage. Who did Doyoung think he was to confront her like this? Implication full of disgust and hitting her where he knew it hurt. More so in front of the one causing all the problems. With your faux naivety and innocent looks. With that cunning smile you shoot her when around him. Meghan knows what you are, she knows what men like and she's experiencing it before her eyes. Men are weak.
If you were to peak inside her head and heart, that obscure growing orb was nothing but rotting tar.
"Don't be insolent. Don't bring that up in front of her!" She spits out, "Y/n go to your room!" Disturbed by being undermined by two people she deemed lesser than her. Doyoung attempts to stop you again, his grip a bit harsher than before. You look at where his hand is. This is familiar, revoltingly so. You feel like a child in the middle of their parents' argument. Getting pulled left and right until they tear you apart stitch by stitch. It's painful in all senses and when Meghan opens her mouth to yell at her husband, you screw your eyes, shaking your head and freeing yourself from his grasp.
"I'll go. I'll go… I'll go. Please." You repeat like a mantra, hoping your words will make it all end. The latter begging them to not include you, to leave you alone and forget that your existence is brewing something between them.
You always wonder how Tina is able to sleep through this and not wake up from their screaming. They no longer attempt to hide the potency of their vocal chords nor their words. You know they talk about you when the muffled voices take over or when Doyoung tells her to lower her voice while she laughs maliciously about how much of a vile, disgusting, and infelicitous asshole he is. Otherwise, you know their problems stem from their joint resentment about the power dynamics.
When two people want the same thing at the same time, things are bound to burn over.
Doyoung didn't take long to walk out after she called him those names again. Throwing in his face that he's a pretentious brat with nothing worth fighting for. Meghan has found going against his upbringing to be successful in debilitating him. The only downside is that he loathes her more and more and respects her as much as she does him. Very little to null.
Sleep fleets away. Fear floods you with the idea that Meghan was capable of barging into your room any second now and reproach you for ruining her marriage. She doesn't tell you directly and neither do the other two in the house but her demeanor change is more than clear. Her warm smiles are officially gone, cold and resentful glares replace them. And she no longer cares that they call her out for ignoring you.
Her hugs are foreign to you and her food no longer is edible. That love she once poured into her meals is gone with her motherly instincts. It aches, horribly so. You've known her and Tina since you began your academic career. When your parents couldn't pick you up or take you to school, Meghan was there. Summers were spent with them like this one with the exception that they were the happiest memories.
You have Tina, you know that. She's your sister. Although, you would prefer to not see her argue with her mother about you or see them give each other the cold shoulder after. You don't want her relationship with her mother to worsen, that's the last thing you want but you can't control what people feel. You're aware of that, Meghan isn't.
It's 1:00AM when sleep finally comes back to you and you feel safe enough. The comforter brings you the warmth you're lacking but isn't able to fill your chest. Soft lamentable sighs have left your lips all night over how horrid this summer has turned.
A part of you blames Doyoung. His addition has ruined the balance the three of you had. His cowardice of accepting Meghan's punches and seeking her motherly care during those years blinded him of the bigger picture — it's quite obvious now, confirmation is all you needed.
The other part of you accepts that Meghan is a decrepit insecure woman who seeks power and control of anyone that isn't her and that fills you with both anger and hurt, feeling no immense remorse for threading around Doyoung the way you do. You're allowed to indulge yourself from time to time.
Meghan wants puppets, not family.
Immersed in your pity and vexation, you don't notice when your bedroom window opens. The latch closing is what makes you turn around startled. A dark figure creeping through the shadows, tall and slim. Fright replaces the sleep you felt, manifested in an attempt to scream until your mouth is hastily covered with warm clammy hands that you instantly recognize by the bony nimble fingers. Doyoung.
A finger to his lips, shushes you, he sits on the corner of your bed. You swallow, your head spinning and light front the freight he just caused you. When you relax, you shake your head with a silent laugh. "You scared me," 'Asshole' silently balanced on your tongue. "For a second you made me believe Nosferatu was real." You joke, "But that would mean an old hag has been haunting me for ages, and I just met you." He pats your cheek almost condescendingly without saying sorry but meaning it. At least you think he's sorry.
"Here." He smiles — the most he does to entertain you—, handing you a bag you hadn't noticed earlier. That may explain the sweet smell of warm blueberries waltzing through the room to sedate you and make you more receptive to what he offers. "You didn't have to." You protest, he meets it with a shake of his head and raises a hand letting you know to just be quiet and take it. He does it with a smile on his face and it irritates you but it's also very beautiful that you oblige. "Thank you." You croon, a smile involuntarily creeping on your face. He responds to your words with a caress of your cheek.
"I've told you to not call me Mr. Kim before, haven't I?" His words slow down your movement, smile faltering. "Is that not your name?" You quip, giving him a quick glance while cutting the waffle into squares. It's warm and soft, as he is. Unfortunately if it's left in the open for too long, it will harden and rot. As he will.
There's some tenderness in his gaze, muddled with the same irascibility Meghan looks at him with when he talks back to subvert her. It makes your eyebrows furrow while you slowly chew, it's an odd feeling. Unfortunately for you, he's smart enough to read a person and divert the conversation. It so happens to be that he doesn't do it with Meghan anymore because he enjoys seeing her peeved and red.
He's become so cynical. The things marriage does to you.
"Regardless, please don't call me that, you make me feel old." "You are old." Your teasing makes him gasp, jaw slack with semi-offense before ruffling your hair, destroying the braid. You laugh at his actions, successfully forgetting his earlier look.
"I'm only five years older than you!" He whisper-yells, offense still imprinted onto his being. "Then don't treat me like you're much older." Spoken in between laughs, your words do settle in his mind. Doyoung knows this happens often, it disgusts him but at the same time it keeps him morally sane.
Yes, he touches you more than he should. But he balances it out by indulging your childish attributes that make you act bubbly and younger around him.
Yes, he looks at you with rapidly growing attraction and lust. But he balances it by teaching you step by step on how to maintain perfectly taxidermied insects the way paternal figures do.
He understands and feels that underlying disgust. It's self-punishment for thinking about you when he is married despite loathing the woman. His attraction to you is punishment for that alone.
He should still remain a good man. He is a good man.
Until he learns to enjoy the power trip. He can somewhat understand his wife for that.
Coward.
His smile begins to lose its intensity, nodding while getting comfortable on your bed. He's receptive when you feed him squares here and there, making sure to look directly in your eyes when he takes them into his mouth. Lips wrapping around the black plastic fork and lapping at the syrup hiding between the backside grooves just to watch you immediately replicate his actions. It's a soothing dance, ego indulgent to know you take what he gives.
"Listen," You feed him again. "I'm sorry for earlier." He covers his mouth, "For continuing to put you in those situations, truly sorry." His hand goes up to his chest, his wedding band is gone, causing a warm feeling to brew in your stomach, manifested as an involuntary smile on your lips.
You shrug, nonchalantly as if it didn't matter when you knew it did. "Not my first rodeo." You mutter, feeding him the last bit before placing the tray on the nightstand. He looks at you, taking in your reactions and the stuck sigh that you finally release when he doesn't prod.
You never spoke of your own family. It was always Meghan and Tina this, Meghan and Tina that. At the beginning he wondered if they would be preoccupied knowing you were here, meeting a stranger despite being in safe hands. Yet after a month he noticed the conflicting projected emotions on your face when he spoke about his parents and how loving to each other they've always been. He could tell admiration and resentment were bigger emotions you carried. Now it does not surprise him that you're saying this. More so, it's confirmation.
"How did you even meet her, by the way? I just can't think of a scenario where you'd meet a woman like Meghan."
Curiosity and petulance lace your voice. He smiles to himself, taking your hand into his, reassured he was taking the right steps when you reluctantly relax against his touch. "My mom grew up in a house with four brothers. She always felt the need to prove she was as important as them. You know, rough housing, sports, academics, that sort of thing." He shrugs, "Futile because my grandparents loved and supported her no matter what she did. There truly was no difference in their treatment of the five — very progressive, they were. Kind of holistic— she simply made that rivalry up in her head."
You'd ask what any of this had to do with your question, but Doyoung likes to speak, he likes to speak about his parents. Even if it was a simple redaction.
"So she spent her entire life doing things that would put her far away from those related to housewives. Never learned how to cook, clean, gardening was her only token but that's because she was a botanist. My dad did everything else." He laughs, fond memories of seeing his dad in frilly aprons and pink mittens. He chose them, all the decor was his pick. Doyoung only ever lets you use them when you're in the kitchen.
"This was ten years ago, I was visiting them from college for the summer when I found she had created a crafts room out of this room." His free hand points around the walls of your room, wallpaper in a quilt design explaining it all. "She said she was too old to not know basic things like mending a hole in dad's socks or helping him with dinner. That he was getting old and weak too, it was a job for two to get anything out of the oven."
He hums, gaze on your interlocked hands. "So I drove her daily to these classes at the community center. That's when I first met Meghan, she was there to teach the classes. Nothing went past pleasantries and my mom joking about how I'd look good with Tina."
Selfish you are for letting vile manifest and spread through your chest when hearing those words. Tina… Tina couldn't handle Doyoung. They can't even stand to be in a room together without it being awkward. So selfish of you to make this about yourself, squeezing his hand scolding. He takes it with humor, feigning not noticing for the sake of his ego.
"Of course my mom didn't know Tina's age, when she realized how much younger she was, she stopped the jokes. They became somewhat friends, never seeing each other outside the community center to my knowledge. I didn't see Meghan for years after that but three years ago when my mom's Alzheimer's worsened and she had forgotten the difference between toxic versus non toxic liquids, she ended up poisoning herself by drinking insecticide. Later we found cleaning supplies with her lipstick on the mouth. It's at the funeral that I saw Meghan again and she was there for my dad and I…"
You didn't imagine this would take that turn. He always spoke so fondly of his parents like they were still around somewhere. Never said where but still around. You now realize it's their lingering presence around everything here.
"I'm sorry, Doyoung…" He dismisses you, shaking his head and kissing your hand. He's trying to control his labored breathing, warm and harsh against your skin, his hand clammy.
"Dad felt so guilty for it all. He taught about the development of the human brain, did neuroscience studies for the university and certain labs here and there all his life and he couldn't save his own wife. So… he left me too. He left for a study, who knows where and I haven't heard from him since." He smiles, a sort of bitterness that he didn't want to have for his father. Reluctance to accept that it was perhaps more than a trip. "Lawyers came days after he left, everything left to my name on both their ends. Meghan had been the only one to check in on me besides extended family but they live far away, there's not much they could do."
Guilt floods you. Why couldn't you just push back that desire to belittle Meghan more in your mind. The worst part is that your brain won't stop telling you that she only took advantage of his vulnerability. Sweet, vulnerable Doyoung who lost his parents in a span of weeks left to rot on his own with a huge house, assets, and a desire to give and give to anyone willing to comfort him. Convenient.
Doyoung hums, sitting up. The silence helps him admire you, or simply distract himself from this gushing open wound. The braid he destroyed, cascading over your shoulder. Shoulder covered in a thick light yellow lace strap with matching ribbons on the chest. He smiles noticing the small details, he recalls helping you sneak into Meghan's craft room to make that night gown. Fabric and ribbon he took from his mother's stash.
She would like you, he believes so.
"You've made good use of the marigold dye." Doyoung smiles, his hand reaching to touch the strap. His fingers dance over it, letting them touch your skin. It's cruel and mean but very elating. He's been playing this teasing game and unfortunately, it's you who wants it more. From then on, they inch closer to the ribbon. Fingers jumping on every spot and ending on the bow, delicately admiring it.
Truth be told he kept his touch there to feel the increase of your respiration. Chest moving up and down faster than previously. He smiles to himself, almost mischievously when he notices a new item around your neck. "The roses too… my mother would have been so content with you." He giggles, patting your cheek prior to giving himself the liberty to touch the rose beads that form a necklace.
She would like you, he's sure of it.
"Very ingenious, so good." Doyoung hums, his hand trails to hold your neck. You nod slowly, entranced in your humiliating arousal from just his touch. You feel pubescent, frothing at the mouth from one touch. Stupid. He's just another man… a man that coddles and holds you in secrecy. It's the forbidden excitement laced with guilt at how treacherous the human mind and body can be.
Clearing your throat, you look around, avoiding his gaze. "Yes, well, she has a lovely and fruitful garden… Greenhouse too, I found some purple cabbages from the spring season, they'd make a lovely dye." You divert but his touch doesn't fall, his other hand opts to join on your cheek, cradling it.
Instinctively you lean into it, forcing you to look at him. There's no teasing or patronizing looks on his end and you're thankful for it. It's full blown admiration and desire in those dark orbs that pull you closer to him while he caresses you. They allow themselves to rake your face. Every feature but most of all your lips and eyes, longing to land on your pupils as to bless whatever you see. On your forehead to reassure that he is your safe haven as you are becoming his. It oddly reminds you of the looks he gave when cleaning your feet before the accident. Like Mary Magdalene admiring her savior.
Doyoung thinks he is allowed this indulgence for once. He can punish himself after but he can no longer go without tasting your skin on his lips, he feels so famished. Letting out a shaky breath, he softly rises, bringing your head closer to him. Breath labored with every move and warm against your skin when he's mere centimeters from it. Shutting his eyes and pursing his lips, letting them fall on your eyelids.
Velvet and moist, that's how his lips feel. You sigh in relief, unaware you had been holding your breath. His lip travels to the other eyelid, it's quick unlike prior, for he rushes to kiss your forehead, lingering for as long as he can before letting out a content sigh of his own, and a liberated smile. He wants to laugh at how absurd he is being but that would only keep wasting time.
Doyoung is so close to your lips when he decides it is best to take the full risk, however you both hear the soft knocks against your door and the rattling of the doorknob. He can't describe the feeling as freight, more so irreverent wrath.
"Y/n? Y/n why is the door locked?"
Tina.
The man instantly pulls away. His touch burns you both and guilt manifests itself through blown out pupils — your own, not his. Your lips are ajar when he places his finger up to his own, like the way he entered your room and disappears the same way. He says nothing and neither do you, opening the door when he's not in view.
The doorknob continues to rattle until she feels the weight of your hand on it. You sigh heavily before opening the door, looking at her blankly which she notices but does not mention. She never does.
"I heard voices." "I'm watching a movie."
She hums. She believes you. She believes you. She does…
"Why was the door locked?" She asks, concern on her face. When your eyes divert from hers, she can tell something had gone on. You usually enjoy having her know everything about you. That's what best friends do, yet at the moment you loathe her for it. That's what sisters do. That gnawing disturbance of frustration and impotency. The type she's felt this entire summer break.
You simply hum, she giggles.
"How bad was it now?" She now finds humor in knowing she always sleeps through their arguments. It's not so funny to you. "Nothing special, I was in the kitchen when he stormed out then she followed behind and they went at it after I left." She giggles once more. Unsure now if it's because she actually finds it comedic or she doesn't know how to respond.
This is her mother and her happiness they're talking about. This is you, her best friend and your friendship on the line.
It’s not like you can tell her that her stepfather defending you from her mom for the millionth time isn’t pushing her into deeper hatred. It’s not like you can tell her that her mother purposely starved you for the day out of pure unadulterated jealousy because her husband desires you more than her. No, can you? No. Silence and lies will do.
"Hey, did you know how Meghan and Doyoung met?" You ask, looking at where had laid. Tina shrugs, "She told me they saw each other at a coffee shop from time to time and talked since then. She doesn't like coffee though." She shrugs again.
Oh Tina. Willfully ignorant and avoidant. Perhaps the story is right but you're sure that if Tina fully knew her mother had met doyoung ten years younger with baby fat still on his cheeks and younger than she is, her dilemma would only worsen. Coward.
Unlike Tina, Meghan didn't hesitate in barging in after a few minutes. It leaves you and her daughter dumbfounded when the angry look becomes bewildered and disappointed, like she had expected to find something (or someone) to prove her suspicions.
"Mom?"
Meghan acknowledges it with a sigh, "Go to sleep, it's late." Making you both feel ten again at one of multiple sleepovers during school nights. Tina responds with a nod. You, you look at her for any trace of something. There's worry, that's for sure. And there's also anger. Nothing new.
The front door is slammed downstairs, causing Tina to get a startled look on her face that is reassured when Meghan shakes her head, dismissively. She opens her mouth to calm her daughter when a disgusting thought tells you to do the talking for her. She deserves even this bit.
"It's Doyoung, don't worry."
And it's disturbing to Meghan that you spoke her thoughts, word for word while looking at her.
Meghan has gotten her confirmation for the night.
That night had given some clarity to Doyoung. Arguments with his wife seized for the most part and before they could begin, he was out the door for his nightly runs. That's what she believed at least. He tampered with his smartwatch to mark his steps knowing she would look through it.
Reality is that he crept up the trellis to your room. Spending the nights under the covers with earphones in, door locked, lights off, and a movie lulling you to sleep while getting a few whispered conversations in here and there. His lips or yours pressed against each other's ear. It was the closest to kissing you would get at.
When you do fall asleep, he tucks you in. Caresses your hair and kisses your forehead goodnight before crawling back down the trellis and entering through the front door. To continue his reality of being married to a woman that no longer treats him with the care he sought but at least he can provide it for you and that you've slowly been returning.
Doyoung has taken that into account and rewards you for it. The gifts were small at first, snacks that Meghan wouldn't allow into the house, books in your wish list. They later became more intricate. Your personal taxidermy and diaphonization kits (locked in his study), pendants of the critters utilized, a camera to document your process, and the most recent being two chickens and doves.
The animals irked his wife more than anything. She has spent the past two months arguing about tearing down the greenhouse and it only took you a mention of the excess of caterpillars and worms in there for him to bring in the chickens. You looked after them, sure, however the chickens with free range left their eggs and droppings everywhere. It felt intentional how she found them laying on her clean laundry, pecked her if they saw her, and worse off stained all of her fabric. They abhor her as much as she does them.
At least the bleeding-heart doves are lovely to look at despite their cold shoulder towards her. Tina gets a ruffle of feathers, you and Doyoung some crooning, and spooning among each other when it's you and him peering upon them. It's the small things that drive her deeper into her madness.
Like seeing you sit criss-crossed on the plush bright grass. It's dewy again, much taller now than it was before but he promised to mow soon. Right now he's too busy hammering in old nails onto stained wood and footprints —yours and his— to create a coup for the chickens. Not by her demand, no. He'd never take hers seriously, but yours.
"Diaphonized insects are horrid. They're all brown. I think I should give wet species a chance." Doyoung takes your words in, a simple chuckle looking at your pout. Petulant and spoiled. "Y/n, you're not drying them fast enough." He corrects, you shrug knowing he may be right but working with insects has bored you. "Either way, centipedes and spiders look disgusting in those vials."
The chickens flock around you, pecking the ground. Their clucking became louder, frustrated the longer they weren't able to obtain what they wanted. Doyoung gives them a quick glance, a fastidious kind of melody, one he isn't used to. Neither are you according to the stink eye you give them. It's pleasant to Meghan, leaning against the sink with peering bright eyes, it feels like justice for once.
It's a delicacy. Your desperate attempts to calm them down, Doyoung's hammering exasperating the chickens, and finally… A loud and pained screech from you, pushing away the hen that victoriously clucks as it swallows the culprit of your scream. One of the neighbor's centipedes.
Doyoung drops his tools, rushing to your aid. He watches you tumble, attempting to stand, however the aching sting and burn on your foot doesn't allow it. Meghan watches every movement from you both. Your disgruntled whines and moans, his shushes in an attempt to calm you down. Hands clasping around your feet, soothing the inflamed bump in hopes it did something. It didn't, it irritated the wound further.
"I told you the critters would recognize your feet." He jokes, scolding in the process. The stinging is intense enough that waspishly, you huff, pouting his way. "Nuh-uh." You reply, rolling your eyes when he throws in a glare. He shakes his head, finally sitting, his knees aching. Like the day you burnt your feet, he takes your feet in his lap, looking over the wound while your soles leave stains again.
He smiles to himself, an airy laugh as if he was coming up with something, fingers waltzing over the bite. "I told you to put shoes on, I won't always be here to help you." Smile turns into a grin, teasing as he lets his lips fall over the wound.
It stings. The warmth of his own flesh against the boiling fire of yours, it's not pleasant and you make it known. With the exception that it comes out strangled and pleasured. Much to his delight, making his lips part, tongue gracing the area just to add more pain and more pretty sounds to leave you.
It's an erotic image to anyone who experiences and sees it. Meghan feels the boiling pain in her chest, the same way you do on your foot. The only difference is that Doyoung won't attempt to soothe hers. He won't even acknowledge it.
Doyoung is looking up at you with a curling smile, lips pulling apart from your skin, eyes raking the expanse of your exposed thigh when the dress rode up. " Met with a harsh pull, Meghan reaches both of you, hands on Doyoung who stumbles to stand up. It's hard to decipher what her expressions read, all emotions coursing through like a bad acid trip, colors roaming around in a slew.
Anger, disgust, pain, defeat, resentment. It made no difference, it was all negative.
"How do you plan on defending this now, huh?" She asks, wavering voice when she looks between you two. "What could you possibly say to make this look normal, Doyoung?!" Her voice rose, startling Tina who had been in the entertainment room when she heard your scream. Like usual, she opts to remain where she's at. It's no use involving herself when she's known how this would all end since the beginning.
"Sucking the venom out, Meghan. Fuck me, why do you have to make everything so salacious?" Doyoung grits, a tone she had not fallen for years ago.
His speech and tone has changed within these months. He no longer spoke like a poised character, he spoke like you. He smelt like you and his quirks adapted to yours. Doyoung was no longer Meghan's and that's a fact she's finding difficult to deal with. Similar to how parents aren't able to understand the autonomy of a child as they grow.
Frustratingly so, his response made sense to her. She's seen it in movies, she's read about it — so she thinks. Unfortunately for her, this was only a sting, like a mosquito or a bee sting, something that will subside with ointment just like your burns weeks prior. There was nothing to suck out nor was it recommended.
"How convenient." She scoffs. Meghan hated how upset she was. She knew this was bound to happen and why she kept her relationship hidden from you for the past two years.
Meghan knew your interests, knew your beliefs, and knew you her entire life. She knew how drawn everyone instantly is to you and woefully, she knew Doyoung would be one of those people too. She was proven right the first day when she saw him approach you on that swing and converse so easily. Touch you so easily…
It never got better as the days went by. Why was it so easy for him to cave and give you a room? A room meant for her hobbies. A room meant for hobbies, as his mother had wanted. Why did he allow you into his study without hesitance when she could only remain for five minutes or so? Why did he have to please you by offering dinner? It's been a while since he's taken her out to dinner. Yes, it was wrong of her to privy you of basic needs but earlier in the day she had seen you so content in that stupid greenhouse and understood fully why he kept refusing to tear it down besides grief. You kept it alive just like his mother did.
Her jealousy doesn't outweigh her disdain for being undermined. Like a person working night and day, loyal to one job for years on end and aging throughout them to be replaced like nothing by a new set of fresh meat. A kick to the rear and a big "Fuck you, you're no longer useful and too old for us to care about your opinion." That's how her relationship with Doyoung felt when he met you.
When they started dating, Doyoung sought her sweet reassuring words and pet names. Her gentle touches and pats when he did a good job. Her comforting food and the affection she gave Tina. It was pleasant, she knew what he wanted all along and she was more than willing to give it to him as long as he reciprocated her own desires. Surrendering control and devotion.
Those things no longer belonged to her. His devotion shifted to you —she's witnessed it on multiple accounts— and control is his again. That's one way of looking at things. He moves her and Tina into his home, doesn't let her make any changes and instead rubs it in her face that you adore the house and its quirks. His house and his quirks.
If everything reminded her already of his parents, it now reminds her of you too and how much more power ghosts and a child have rather than her.
Meghan scoffs and huffs every now and then while rebutting his arguments. He mimics them to show her how absurd she is being. It's a never ending cycle they've grown comfortable with but that needs to stop. This isn't what either signed up for when they legally bound their love. If you can even call it that, it's more than clear both were pitifully lonely and disturbed.
"Are you even hearing yourself, seriously?" Doyoung sighs, offended at the implications she kept throwing at him. His thoughts may be vile and depraved when it comes to you but he's punished himself enough. Meghan doesn't seem to understand that while he now recognizes he never did love her, rather sought the affection of a mother, he was bound to honor those vows.
But he was only a man and men are weak.
Meghan has double the years of experience he does and she knows that if you ever stop seeing her with those same eyes Doyoung once saw her with and which Tina is bound to by the universe's request, and gave him free reign, he'd take the opportunity without a thought.
"No, are you hearing yourself? Better yet, do you see what you do?!" She glares, "You enable her to do whatever she wants. Parade around my home as if it was hers. Make a mess of the floorboards, lock herself with you in that stupid study, for what? Your disgusting bugs? Really, Doyoung it's odd how much time you two spend together, you don't even spend that time with your own stepdaughter, neither of you have spent time with Tina. She’s supposed to be Tina’s best friend."
Doyoung felt his frontal lobe develop for the second time in his life. Stepdaughter… Fuck, he was only thirty with a twenty-five year old stepdaughter. Does anyone see how disturbing and odd this fucking is? No, he definitely cannot stay in this for much longer.
"And you know what? Jesus, you're acting like a fucking brat yourself." She scoffs. "The longer you spend with her, the more immature you become. Genuinely, what use was it for your parents to give if you're going to act like a child." She shrugs.
"Don't even bring my parents into this, fuck off." Doyoung disturbed glares at her. "Don't fucking do that. It only seems that way because you hate when anyone is better than you. Smarter and secure than you, get a grip, Meghan. Don’t forget that I’m closer to her age than yours. I’m allowed to be childish, remember that… Don't fucking bring them up ever again."
He was right but that's exactly what she hated most.
"Honestly Meghan," Dumbfounded, Doyoung sighs, hands rubbing upon his face exhausted. "You've known Y/n longer than me. If you don't plan on trusting me, at least trust her. What kind of mother are you if you can't offer her that?"
His tone quickly twisted into condescension, the sheer feeling of being talked down upon by someone who knows nothing about life irking her furthermore and the slight consideration that gnawed at the back of her head was ultimately consumed by that twisted rotten tar in her soul.
"Well she isn't my daughter is she?" Meghan spews without thinking. "She's not my fucking daughter. Not by blood, not metaphorically, nor by law. Tina is my daughter and you know what my daughter doesn't do? Throw herself at my shithead of a husband like any other hussy does!" Her hands meet with his shoulders multiple times, abrasive like every word. No regard that those words were loud and clear for you who remained on the grass and Tina in the entertainment room with the TV on full blast. No longer able to hide and ignore like she's done all along.
Doyoung doesn't mind the contact or the harsh words towards him. What he does mind is her rejection of motherhood. Yes, she's correct to an extent, however how harsh must one be to deny the impact their motherly doting has left on a young and impressionable child? He has fairly understood your restraint and guilt after each encounter is interlaced with your respect towards Meghan and now all he can think about is how that shattering reality will affect you.
Will affect him…
It's disgust and resentment that meets Meghan— she takes it with pride. It's empathy that meets you when he turns to face you. Seeing the instant heartache aflame in your eyes and through the cracks of your chest.
Pity is what you take it as. Disturbed by such, you stand up, the walk of shame towards that stupid greenhouse his wife detests so much. A soft shut is what makes him turn back to Meghan, disdain so palpable that Tina can feel it as she peers through the window. Relenting to the reality she's been trying to avoid these months. It's odd to be a background character in something that affects her directly. She knows there's more to come and when it's done, she'll have two options, only one right answer.
Her mother or her best friend… her sister.
Their words are muffled on the further end of the greenhouse. You imagine this is what Tina would hardly hear in her slumber and it was nice to an extent. You've always admired her discipline. You can't say you admire it now, many of those arguments could have been prevented if she spoke up about her discomfort towards her mother dating a man near her age, a man that sought the affection she was given. A grieving man.
Tina was disciplined but she was also a coward just the way Meghan wanted her to be. The way Meghan wanted all of you to be. Fearing yet adoring her. Devout like a disciple to their God.
Meghan was nowhere near a God. She was closer to a pathetic haggard with no accomplishments in life besides her daughter's, living vicariously through her. She attempted to do the same with Doyoung and it may have worked for a while. She soon realized that she couldn't do such a thing with someone that's always had more opportunities than she's had.
Doyoung had two loving parents his entire life. Just like you.
Regrettably, they weren't able to be near him as much as he would have liked them to be due to their career. Just like you.
However, they provided no matter what �� even in the after life — and it showed throughout the house and the love he still holds for them. Their presence is felt in the grooves of doorknobs she replaces, the carvings on the wooden doors she plans on modernizing, the stained windows she'll break, the chips on the kitchen island she will fix, the garden with horrid flamboyant flowers that are eaten away by pests, and that ghastly greenhouse with plants that pretentiously have to mean something.
There's no grasp of control in a house that is meant to exude security, love, and reassurance. No grasp if she's not the one to plant that seed.
Fortunately for you, the house welcomed you in and now you don't care how much you rub it in her face. This was meant for you and if she thought of you as the complete opposite of what she's groomed you into, you'll let the entire world know that Doyoung and everything she wanted to obtain is yours by prophecy.
"How's your foot?" The soft voice that greets you nightly approaches you, his warm fingers taking your shoulder, spinning you around and forcing the pen in your hand to drop. The solemn look on your face and the exaggerated pout makes him sigh, your shrug forcing his touch away. "Better."
Doyoung nods as a response, approaching and taking you in a tight embrace to reassure you that it was all going to be okay, that Meghan was nothing but bitter and defeated.
"I'm sorry…" He whispers against your hair, leaving kisses here and there. Your sigh, tightening his embrace. "It's not you who said it." You expel, burying your head in his chest the way your doves do. He kisses your head again, reward for such a sweet action.
"But it's my fault she did." "It doesn't matter now."
Doyoung peels away as much as he can without breaking the embrace. His eyes search yours for a hint of sadness, however all he can see is fiery anger and vindictiveness.
His hand takes your cheek, both warm and soft. "It does..." He hums, "You know it does." Eyebrows furrowed, concerned with how easily you've given it up. He knew you'd be upset but relent is not what he expected. No, he does not like this.
You pout, grip on his torso tightening to leave the feeling of your touch lingering for as long as it could. "It'll pass."
Doyoung truly didn't know how to fix this on his own, it's not his duty to do so either. Yet, the last thing he wanted was to see you upset over the words of someone so vile who did not deserve any strong emotion conveyed. Prior times he was able to pacify you with his gifts or embraces, nowadays it's been a bit harder.
"Will it?" "It has to. I'll have time to mourn later."
Mourn.
Doyoung thinks about the last time he allowed himself to mourn. He wonders if you'll follow in his footsteps and ignore it, falling in the embrace of a rancid older person who will only take advantage over the loss of a profound relationship. He doesn't want you to do that, you should seek comfort in the arms of someone who can oddly comprehend you despite the hierarchy being completely different.
It should be him.
Decidedly, Doyoung leans in, like that first night in your room. His lips don't linger above your features or your lips like last time. This time he dives in, taking your lips into his in a slow and tender kiss. You reciprocate it instantly, holding onto him for dear life, afraid to be tossed around once more.
Your lips part slightly, seeking air although inviting him further in. Doyoung moans into the kiss when your hands creep under his shirt, they're peculiarly cold for such a hot summer. Alluding to the death that floods you from Meghan's rejection. He can tell you're replaying her words over and over every time your kisses get hungrier. Tongue overlapping his and savoring him further. Fingernails raking his smooth pale back. He'd be glad to parade those pink streaks, it's the least he could do.
He wasn't far off. It's interesting how easy one can hate someone they've loved for so long. All you had in mind was punishing Meghan for what she just said. She's killed you. She's killed that little girl that looked up at her like a mother. Mother's are supposed to be nurturing and kind. But like she's said, she doesn't owe it to you. You're not her daughter, never were.
Cruel, cold, and a bitch she was. You could be that too, you've become aware of it with every cold shoulder and scowl from her. You'll be what she truly sees you as if that'll make her happy.
Men are weak, you've known this too. She's taught it to you. So why not start proving it with her husband? Giving him that chance everyone knew he awaits.
Your hands warm up the longer they roam around his torso, ripping the buttons off his shirt. He doesn't seem to care, not when it's a piece Meghan made him. "Will you make me feel better, Doie? Will you help me forget? I think we both need to forget?" You whisper against his lips, his labored breathing mixing with yours, chasing your lips as a response.
He whines like a pet being denied a treat, teased and laughed at. To satiate him, you peck his lips, nipping them and earning another whine, pleased this time. He nods fervently, his own hands grasping your body, making sure you're here with him.
Swollen lips leave open mouthed kisses along his jaw, trailing to his throat. Nipping softly at the taut skin. He hisses and gasps here and there but he never pushes you away. He takes what you give, just like you.
Thankful for such, it's time you take a bite of that apple, rotten and all.
Doyoung groans when he feels your teeth cling to his Adam's apple, fingers pressing into your own skin. His body is now cold, similar to how your hands were at the beginning, it's infectious but delicious. He needs more of whatever you give him. Greedy, greedy, greedy.
It's easy to read his mind, the way those eyes look at you, ten times more intense than before. Enough to push you into creating a trail down his torso, similar to the stream of sweat that clung to him that first day you met. This felt nice against his cold skin. The warmth of your mouth and delicacy of lust intermingled into making his groin harden. You notice the need, fingers clumsily toying with the belt buckle until it's gone.
You tease here and there, fingers clinging to the hem of his underwear, scratching above his pubic hair and making him hunch over, only stopped by the feeling of your forehead on his exposed torso, purposefully giggling to have your breath tickle his greedy skin.
"It tickles." He utters, looking down at you with blown pupils. You smile, looking up at him with wide eyes, pressing your knuckles into his skin. "Better?" You question, he grins and nods.
You use his shirt as a cushion underneath your knees, it's futile and barely aids but it's better than bare concrete. Seeing there was no use to taunt him any longer, your fingers crawl within his underwear, grasping the phallic in much need of attention. He hisses feeling your grasp, it's soft but firm, tugging him out brusquely on purpose. He liked that.
Doyoung pants, attempting to control his breathing. It's been so long since he's been touched, any time Meghan attempted he was flooded with disgust and self hatred, pushing her off when she aimed to at least kiss him. He could live with it, believing his sex drive had died before you came into the picture. But with you around the house and him 24/7, it was becoming very difficult to do anything about his increased sex drive.
"You're so hard… When's the last time you had any action?" You ask casually, hand rhythmically rocking against his shaft, thumb collecting any drop of pre-come to smear against him. He's reluctant and embarrassed to answer but your sweet smile is so convincing that he responds with a guttural moan.
"I see." You hum, kissing his tip as a reward, eliciting another moan. Masturbating in the shower was not enough. Sometimes Meghan tried to get in there with him and it would make him flaccid immediately. It seemed the only times he could ever relieve himself was in the comfort of his study. His favorite times when you and Tina took advantage of the pool and sun bathed with his research papers in hand. That excited him most, the image of you in a skimpy swimsuit in front of his window and reading his thoughts on a subject you couldn't care for as much but would take just because it was made by him. You took anything he gave you.
The memory alone made him twitch in your hand, a giggle leaving your pretty lips. Like this, he would get so much harder like this. "I get it, Doie. I won't stall any longer." You relent, leaning further to take him in your mouth. The damp and warm cavity force a moan out of his own, holding onto your hair as he throws his head back. Fuck, he's been craving this for so long.
Doyoung feels his ears ring. His own breathing along the squelching of your throat floods them. He thinks this is heaven, although he doubts an act like this would allow any of you in. Right, it wouldn't. Not after you both submit to the temptation of forbidden fruit. But it's better this way, what fun is there in being a garden when you can't have what makes you feel good? Even if it is a sin.
He relishes in the feeling of your mouth around him, head bobbing on its own despite your free hand giving him permission to push as much as he wants. Your tongue swirls around his cock, pressing firmly against the veins and dancing around the rest. It tickles, but he's sure you're aware. It is your favorite game after all.
He looks as pretty as the first day you met him. Beads of sweat rolling down his face, forcing his hair to frame and emphasize those pretty features of his. His ragged moans sound like those of an angel, pushing you further down his cock. It feels suffocating, he's not as girthy but he is long and it makes it much harder to push through. Even so, you want to be good for him, you've always wanted to be. This forces you to push through, gagging a few times but persevering until your nose hits his pubic bone.
Doyoung feels elated at this new found feeling. Your throat is so tight and warm, it feels like a reward for all he's endured. Sadly for him, it's torn apart, gifting him with an image of you teary eyed, gasping for air and a mixture of come and spit threading you both. He couldn't think he could get any more hard but this image alone makes him spurt pre-come onto your chin.
You give him a quick glance, smiling sweetly at him. "Close?" You ask, "You can come in my mouth, Doie." You utter, leaning in to take him in. He closes his eyes feeling your mouth around him again, dizzy and seeing stars. He feels the breeze enter from the windows of the greenhouse, whirling around you both. He finds that his body is no longer cold, it's scorching as yours.
Doyoung didn't think he could be so overstimulated before coming, it may be with the fact that he hasn't been touched for so long or how one of your hands clutches his into your hair, yanking to feel arousal from the sting. He swears can see a bead of your wetness roll down your leg when he looks down at you, cursing and bucking forward.
It hurts, you won't lie but that is exactly what made you keep taking him and pulling back out. The strain against your throat elating until he finally took it within himself to do as you wanted. His jutting forward with a harsh grasp on your hair, fucking your face and forcing you to gag while one of your hands plays with his testicles, only pushing him to go faster. Your other hand pushing aside your soiled panties and playing with your clit. It's a slick sticky mess, uncomfortable at best but the feeling alone does enough for you.
Doyoung mutters curses here and there. Pretty words too which you receive with moans that make him increase the pace. Both of his hands are on your hair when he finally feels himself spill in your mouth. His moan is so loud you wouldn't doubt that anyone outside of the greenhouse could hear him. You squeal, taken by surprise and also feeling yourself suffocate. Even when he's still inside of you, some of his come spills from the sides of your mouth, rushing out like water from a broken dam when he rips himself apart from you.
He feels out of it, trying to calm himself after such an intense orgasm as you are. Head thrown back, gasping for air without spilling any come still in your mouth. When you think you're stable enough, he helps you up. Kissing your soiled cheeks and licking his lips to savor himself. The image makes your pupils dilate. Taking himself in like it was melted ice cream, without a care. No one is as receptive to taste themselves but he was.
You hadn't come yet, and this image only made you want to reach that high more and more. Doyoung cluelessly smiles at you, appreciative of what you've done. It's wiped away when you take his face into your hands, kissing him. Instinctively, his lips part, allowing you to push his own cum into his mouth from yours. He's taken aback but weirdly aroused.
Narcissistic, egocentric, or whatever anyone wants to call it. It does not change the fact that Doyoung immediately hardens at the taste of himself mixed with the taste of your spit. The sweet tones of the lingering chocolate you two ate with the saltiness of his orgasm. Similar to a disgusting and corrupted salted caramel dark chocolate. It's not for everyone but it is meant for you two.
Hastily, he helps you up on the data table. Pulling down your wet panties and rubbing them along his hard and aching cock. He moans into the kiss, ragged and needy while he jerks himself off to increase the feeling. His tongue mingling with yours, swirling his come around both your mouths until it becomes warmer and lesser.
Fingers intertwined in your hair, tugging to hear more of you. Desire to hear more and more leads to shaking nimble fingers to trail the inside of your thighs. He smiles into the kiss feeling the scorching warmth within. Claiming and begging to be touched. He's no cruel man, not all the time at least, so he grants you this reward after all the ones you've given him.
Slowly, his ring and middle finger enter you easily with the slickness he's caused. The intrusion causes you to moan against his mouth this time, giving him the advantage to nip your tongue. It doesn't take Doyoung long to allow his fingers to move within you, pumping relentlessly to hear your pretty sounds. Guttural with the remaining come you two interchange.
You've always thought he had pretty fingers, since you met. Purposefully scraping yourself and staining your feet with grass to have him touch you. Nimble, long, and delicate enough to curl within your walls and cause a shiver down your spine. With the length, it doesn't take him long to reach your sweet spot. His pistoning motion and curl forcing cries and withering beneath him. Doyoung isn't as cruel or sadistic but this… he can understand why sadism exists.
Your legs don't seize to shake, a sheer layer of perspiration coating your body and face. He needs to let you finish, he just has to. It's not long until your body gives out, you need this or you'll probably pass out on this table alone.
But Doyoung allows himself to indulge that sadism he's contemplated for the past few minutes – enjoying his contradiction on cruelty. Halting his moves and ripping his hand away, taking the last drop of remaining come into his mouth to greet you with a cheshire grin as you look at him in surprise and betrayal. Every nerve in your body stings you left and right, punishing and taunting you for the lost glory.
"What the actual fuck?!" You gasp, looking at him, panting harshly with a body ready to explore from heat and desire.
He doesn't respond, letting the come and his spit trickle down to his glowing red cock, slacks and underwear pooled around his ankles. Now that his mouth is free, he chuckles. "Had to save some for lube." He shrugs, positioning himself between your legs. He kisses your cheek reassuringly, rubbing the come around him until he pushes within you. It feels different than his fingers and your mouth for the both of you. Surely, nothing will ever be as good as the actual thing.
Doyoung doesn't move just yet. Allowing you to get comfortable while he contemplates on whether you should leave the red gingham dress on. It's too pretty and he was there when you made it. Meghan had hated when you told her he allowed you to use his mother's machine and fabric. She hated that you were taking over her on her own craft.
Hm… yes, just for that he'll let you keep it on.
"Come on, Doie… Fuck me as hard as you can." You lean in, whispering against his ear, biting his earlobe. That was enough incentive for Doyoung to begin thrusting. It's slow but hard at first, setting the pace. It doesn't take long for him to quicken it, increasing your moans with it. You hold onto him tightly as he pounds into you. So deep into the pleasure of being full again that neither of you speak.
Legs pushed wide open against the table, his glute muscles flexing with every hard stroke. He kisses you here and there, licking away the beads of sweat from your neck like a starved animal in need of more.
The taste of your skin drives him insane, nipping and licking until he reaches your breasts. Pushing down the fabric of the dress to take one into his mouth. Engulfing it, harsh suction that leaves you wanting more. His teeth aren't as kind to your nipples but you don't mind as long as he is well fed. As long as you're able to please him.
"You feel so good, Y/n… I won't ever be able to get enough of you." He pants, thrusts hardening, hips swiveling to get closer to you, enough that his pubic bone creates friction against your needy clit. That intensifies the feeling that pushes you further into an orgasm. Doyoung feels it when you squeeze around him and moan his name like a mantra, pulling at his hair like he's done to yours.
"Please… I've been good. Please, let me come, Doie." You beg, implore. You couldn't handle it any longer. He's come once before, when this is finished, he'll have two orgasms. Yet all you have is aching, an overdue orgasm that will knock you out soon if you don't release it.
Pretending to ponder your prayer as he harshly pounds into you, lips consuming yours. Tongue gracing yours in search for a sliver of his come's taste still lingering within you. It's not as evident as before but he eventually finds it, smiling into the kiss and nodding.
"Let it go, baby." He croons, shushes leaving his lips as he keeps fucking you. His permission setting your body free that each thrust makes you feel so sensitive and it's not until he reverts back to those initial harsh and deep thrusts that you squeal and moan loudly. Clinging to his body for dear life while your legs spasm and come around him. The image sends him into his own orgasm. Feeling your body tremble against his while you cry out in pleasure from something he's caused. It's beautiful and if possible, he'd have you as the main piece with those pretty red ribbons you love so much on your hair, surrounded by his taxidermy as the main attraction because you're precious enough to preserve.
The thought peeves him but he won't dwell, not when you still feel so warm and good around his spent cock.
"Has she ever made you come this much?" You ask between giggles, looking at the pool of cum seeping into the wooden table and dripping onto the concrete floor. Doyoung groans remembering his reality. "No. I don't even touch her, why do you think there's so much?" He glowers, shaking his head in the process. "I don't want to think about her. Not now… with you so pretty and open for me." He grins, leaning in for a kiss.
You hum against his lips, wrapping your arms around him. "All this come for me?" You question sweetly, faking naivety, he nods, a light chuckle. "Only you have made me feel so alive and hot." He utters, burying his face in your chest, kissing your tits slowly.
A content sigh leaves you, eyelids fluttering, a malicious grin when you look forward.
There she is, five feet away with a dull and dead look on her face, Meghan.
"I bet."
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secret rhymes - 39. victorian child (half-written)
a/n: fun fact i have been sick for the past WEEK. my voice has been so so so raspy and dead and i literally sound like im gonna die and or smoked thirty packs of cigs AND im also coughing like a bitch. yeah. ik a bowl of congee HATES to see me coming (I made a whole pot... i finished that pot in less than two days...)
hanni shuffles a bit and groans, stirring weakly beneath the covers. you’re worried that the rag in her forehead might slip off, so you hold it in place as she groggily blinks.
“what…” she nearly croaks. “i’m gonna be… late…”
“han, it’s okay. the rest of your group talked to the managers and called me here. i’ll take care of you for now, okay?”
“hyein?” hanni questions, pulling her blanket closer.
“…close?” you nearly chuckle.
“yunjin is that—“ hanni finally opens her eyes fully, taking in the sight of you—half amused and half worried—staring down at her. her eyes widen slightly. “y-y/n? what are you—“
“you’re burning up. you have a really high fever, one-o-one.” you sigh, looking at her with pity. “everyone was worried sick.”
“one hundred one degrees? how is that even possible—“
“—fahrenheit. you're not dead yet, don't worry.”
her face is already flushed from her fever, but when she fully registers you—the slight scrunch of worry in your brow, your hair cutely clipped behind your ears, and the loose koala graphic t-shirt you have on—her face is even more flushed under the cloth.
she can barely react, too exhausted and feverish to do anything more than stare and breath. she closes her eyes then, defeated, and sinks deeper into the bed.
meanwhile, you sit beside her, adjusting the cool compress on her forehead that slipped off while she had woken up. her skin is burning up, her breathing slow and heavy, and the way she barely stirs at your touch only makes your concern deepen.
the rest of her members had left her in your care, all of them thanking you like you had saved their lives.
("you're the best, seriously." minji says as she hugs you tight, pulling away and patting you on your shoulder. "I wasn't sure what we would've done... this album is really important and especially the song we have to record today."
"it's nothing." you say casually. "i feel bad that hanni can't go and record with you guys, but i feel even worse because she seems pretty unwell."
hyein gives you one last big hug, and then the rest of the group joins in to trap you. you giggle and hug them back, surprised and amused by the gratitude of the situation.
"i'm sorry for calling you so suddenly, you seemed really tired." hyein mumbles.
when she called you at nine in the morning (five minutes after you had to fight to wake up) you were more than just tired. an unknown caller id called you three times, the same amount of times it took you to respond with slight annoyance until you heard the familiar voice and realized it was hyein calling.
"it's fine." you respond, because after figuring out that you had to wake up for hanni, it was more than fine. "I'll take good care of her, thank you for trusting me with her and also with... uh, being in your dorm."
danielle shakes her head, then smiles. "after hearing about hanni talk about you so much and meeting you in person; you're very much welcome in our dorm anytime."
you smile even wider at that comment before ushering everyone out. "okay, go, go. i know how recording's can be, and how the schedules are, so go. i don't want you guys to get in trouble or anything." you urge. before they leave, they make sure to give you all their contact information to give and receive updates.)
you glance at your phone to see no messages from any of them, then back at hanni, watching as her lips part slightly with a soft breath. you sigh, adjusting the blanket so it sits over her shoulder before shifting to sit on the floor beside her bed, your back against the frame. it's quiet, other than the faint hum of the heater, occasional rustle of the sheets, and soft groans as she shifts slightly in her fevered sleep.
every few minutes you reach up to check the cloth, replacing it with a freshly dampened one and alternating between the two cloths four times. you don't mind waiting—watching over her like this, making sure she's okay.
and even though hanni is barely conscious, barely functional to form a thought through her exhaustion, she notices the way you linger and the feeling of the temperature on her forehead changing here and there. she notices every quiet action showing that you care.
—
a little over thirty minutes pass and you switch the rag on hanni's forehead one last time, brushing a few stray strands of hair from her damp skin before standing up. she barely moves, lost in her sleep, but you hesitate for a second before deciding to head out to the kitchen.
"i'll be back, han." you say softly, placing your hand on her shoulder.
the dorm is quiet, save for the occasional hum of the city outside. you roll up your sleeves as you get to the kitchen and unpack your tote bag, taking out each ingredient carefully. you begin chopping ginger, mushrooms, garlic, and pre-cooked chicken—staples for the congee you're making. the sound of the knife against the cutting board fills the space as you work, focused yet extremely mindful of who's resting in the other room.
fifteen more minutes pass and you've already started boiling the rice with your chopped ingredients. you're nearly done as is. suddenly, you hear soft, unsteady footsteps and turn, catching hanni in your sight as she emerges out from the hall.
she's wrapped in a crewneck and blanket draped over her shoulders, her eyes still heavy with exhaustion. she blinks at you, sluggish and dazed, before speaking tiredly,
"y/n, you… why are you... here?"
you immediately lower the heat and rush over to hanni, your hands hovering uncertainly between steadying her shoulders or guiding her back to bed.
she tilts her head slightly, looking at you through half-lidded eyes.
"you didn't answer me." hanni mumbles, giving in and leaning against you to support herself. "how did you even... get here?"
"you're going to pass out, you should've stayed in your room." you sigh, guiding her toward the couch gently. "hyein called me. she said you were sick, and I was worried." you adjust the blanket around her as she settles into the cushions, still looking up at you with something unreadable in her expression. "I came as soon as she called."
"but—"
"no." you interrupt, kneeling in front of her to get her comfy. "I only have a few online things for a class, so don't worry. i basically have a free day, why not spend it on you? just focus on getting better, han."
hanni doesn't argue. she just watches as you stand and return to the kitchen, resuming your work.
the warm scent of whatever it is that you're cooking fills the air while you season further. hanni pulls the blanket tighter around herself, gaze locked onto your back as you move. the way you check on her between stirring the pot, the way your brows knit while adding a few more mushrooms—it's like you were made to do this, to care and be attentive to even the smallest things.
something tugs at hanni's heart.
once the congee is finished, you ladle some into a bowl, letting the steam rise before setting it on the counter to cool. you run to hanni's room to grab the bowl with damp rags and return to her side, setting it on the coffee table as you sit next to her. you place the rag on her head against and she lets out a small sigh at the cool relief, her eyes barely open as she looks at you.
"the food is still hot," you murmur, reaching out instinctively. your hand finds its way to her cheek, brushing against her heated skin as you check her temperature.
hanni leans into your touch. it's barely a movement—soft, fleeting, and she probably isn't aware of it either—but you feel it like a spark. the warmth of her skin lingers against your palm longer than it should and your thumb brushes against her on its own. you swallow, but she doesn't seem to notice, too tired to register the weight of the moment.
you drop your hand after a second and she turns her head slightly on the couch, still watching you through drowsy eyes.
"thank you," she mumbles. "really... you didn't.. have to.. have to do all this."
you shake your head, leaning back slightly and meeting her with the same look she has in her eyes. "it's nothing."
"no, but i mean it," she insists, her voice barely above a whisper. "you took..." she breathes in slowly, sinking deeper into her blanket before continuing, "time out of your day just to come all the way here—to take care of me."
you let out a small laugh, shrugging. "well, you're a friend I care a lot about."
hanni blinks, something unreadable flickering in her tired eyes before she lets out a quiet hum. "i— thank you. I'm glad we're... friends."
you don't know how to respond to that. the way she says it feels like there's something more beneath the surface, but she's also terribly sick so you could just be overthinking everything. before you can dwell on it further, hanni shifts, resting her head against the couch.
"lucky me." she says softly, already halfway to sleep.
you exhale, watching as her breathing starts to even and her blinking get slower. "right," you start, "you have to eat something. i think it should be cooled." you look away from her, breaking the tension filled with something uncertain but not unwelcome.
hanni watches you grab the bowl and sit up, scooping a small bite and blowing on it a few times before holding the spoon towards her. she hesitates before finally parting her lips, eating without a complaint despite being sluggish.
"good?" you ask quietly.
she nods, chewing slowly. "mhm. you're a good cook."
"i know," you tease, earning a weak chuckle from her.
you bring up another spoonful, but before she takes it, you notice a bit of rice stuck at the corner of her lips. without thinking, you reach forward, brushing it away with your thumb.
hanni stills. her eyes flick up to yours, surprised, but she doesn't pull back. neither do you.
"you're being extra nice today," hanni mutters, voice tinged with something unreadable.
you huff a small laugh, reaching for a cup of warm water. "you're sick, hanni. what kind of person would I be if I wasn't?"
she lets you tilt her chin up slightly even when it earns a weird turn in her stomach. she also lets you assist her in sipping the water, wiping away at the drop that rolls down to her chin.
"i, uh, um. there was this, um, time." you start nervously, trying to break the dreadful tension in the air. "my friend back in new york, he... he got sick and his parents were away. i had to take care of him like this. so don't worry about... me taking care of you. it's nothing. i just want you to be okay hanni."
"you're lovely, y/n." hanni sounds and looks drunk with a mix of just completely tired. it's almost amusing how cute she looks.
for the next hour you sit beside her and finish some assignments on your laptop. every so often you glance her way, checking her temperature and switching out the rags. hanni doesn't say much, just watches you everytime she wakes up, eyes flickering between your hands on the keyboard and the quiet concentration on your face.
"i feel a lot better now," she finally says, breaking the silence and halting your typing.
you glance at her and smile. "yeah?"
she hums in confirmation, her eyes fluttering closed as sleep starts to take over.
hanni motions for you to scoot over, and if this were any of your other friends you'd tell them to back off because of their sickness—with hanni, you shift closer. and then she leans on you a bit, the weight of her head pushing against your arm. you don't say anything else, just watch as she drifts off, her features relaxed, her breathing soft and even.
she looks peaceful—so pretty even while she's overheating and feverish.
carefully—without moving your arm—you reach for the rag again, switching it out for a colder one. you do it over and over, making sure she's comfortable. even though the room is quiet, and even though she's asleep; you don't feel alone.
if anything, you feel closer than before. your heart can't decide if it likes the feeling or not.
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𐙚⋆.˚ ──── almost forgot something! °。⋆⸜
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ – non idol!danielle x fem!reader !!
synopsis: you and danielle have been friends for years now, and everyone around you swears there’s romantic tension between the two of you. the love in the air is very real and you two fools just need to kiss already
contains:fluff, both danielle and y/n r oblivious, twotolz being really invested in them, like more than catnipz, hanni has rizz (according to reader), i wrote this half dead, not proofread, kiss???, highschool setting
a/n: sighs this was lazily done and i literally couldve done better but im stcuk so this will suffice like i shouldve scrapped but im positng this anyways! also remember when i said i would write in present tense? I LIED.. past tense it is ig!
♪ ༘⋆ now playing – kiss her you fool by kids that fly
for as long as anyone could remember, you and danielle were attached at the hip, the bestest of friends. wherever you went, she followed and vice versa. danielle was your best friend, as you were hers. there was nothing more to your friendship, until there was.
a few months ago, you had the sudden realisation that you always wanted to be by danielle’s side. that wasn’t brand news to you, but the feelings behind it was the sudden realisation. you found yourself fawning over your friend, noticing how your heart would race around her. however, this sudden realisation wasn’t very sudden to your friends.
“so, you like dani?” minji tried confirming with you for the nth time, the others chuckling in the back.
“honestly, i’m surprised it took you this long to figure that out,” hanni sneered.
it seemed your group of friends had clearly anticipated the moment you confessed your crush on danielle to them. and, it seemed they had a mission to utterly humiliate you as they fed you delusions.
“she literally likes you back. just ask her out already before we all rip out our eyeballs,” hyein insisted and you swore you even saw her eye twitch. “watching this slow burn literally burns,” haerin continued.
you were never convinced. danielle was just nice like that! so what if she held your hand to class, she was just a touchy gal!
“SHE CLEARLY LIKES YOU BACK! KISS HER ALREADY YOU IMBECILE,” hyein would scream into your face, shaking you by the shoulders.
and every time they would spit this nonsense in your face, you would end up rolling your eyes with a small “whatever.”
as the bell went at the end of school, you found yourself walking out of class with danielle by your side. the both of you had just been paired up for a project and danielle was already pouring ideas out onto you.
“so, where do you want to do the project?” danielle asked. “definitely at your place. you always have the best stashes of snacks,” you grinned. danielle rolled her eyes. “only coming over for the snacks? that’s real rude of you y/n,” she chuckled teasingly.
you continued to joke with danielle before saying goodbye at the school entrance.
“i’ll come over in about an hour. i gotta wash up ‘cause i am tired as hell,” you exhaled.
danielle looked into your eyes and all you could do was get lost in them. the way her eyes lit up like fireworks made something squirm in your stomach, and you weren’t sure if this was a good feeling. looking into her eyes made you feel so safe and so… loved. sometimes, it hurt knowing she only saw you as a friend.
you took a step back, knowing if you kept staring into her eyes you might get lost for real. danielle waved goodbye as you walked away. she smiled brightly as you waved back.
“i’ll save you your favourites!”
both you and dani were spread out across her bed. you were getting extra comfortable, lying on the mattress with your favourite chips on the side. you made sure to not get crumbs on the bed as you watched dani furrowed her brows with whatever she had in front of her.
“you know, if we fail, i’m so blaming you,” you casually joked, watching dani raise her head and flinch back in betrayal.
“excuse me! i’m the one doing all the work right now. you’re just here for the snacks.” danielle pouted.
you grinned back at her as you sat up. “hey, i am not here just for the snacks. plus, you’d be lost without me.”
“sure, whatever helps you sleep at night.” danielle mumbled back. “it does help me sleep at night, thank you very much!”
you both started giggling. it always felt nice to spend time with danielle. listening to her giggle was like feeling the warmth of the sun on a clear day.
the two of you continued to chuckle between yourselves before danielle furrowed her brows once more.
“hey, y/n? could you help me with this question? i’m sort of stuck,” she asked you.
you looked at the question she was pointing at before getting up from the bed.
“i’ll just go wash my fingers first. don’t want to hand back the question sheet with chip dust all over it,” you said swiftly. you heard danielle chuckle to herself as you went to the bathroom.
you’ve been over to danielle’s house so many times, it feels like a second home. everything about danielle is so comforting and it makes you feel warm inside. you hoped that maybe you could always be by her side, to comfort her as she comforts you.
“so, y/n, how was sleeping over at dani’s place?” hyein inquired, raising her eyebrows.
“how’d you know about that?” you asked, as someone came over to grab your arm. you already knew who decided to wrap their arms around your own, yet you looked anyway.
danielle looked right into your eyes, the space between the two of you was nearly non-existent. you watched her eyes as they looked into your own then.. to your lips? you weren’t sure if you were seeing what was right in front of you correctly. danielle was the first to break eye contact.
“how’d you know about what?” danielle asked, smiling at hyein.
“no. no no. what was that?” minji interjected out of nowhere, pointing at you and dani. “what was what?” you laughed nervously. was it hot? it seems to be getting even hotter here.
minji just hummed, slowly nodding her head but watching you and danielle with a stink eye. you rolled your eyes in response as you recognised both hanni and haerin walking towards the group. they were both snickering between each other, looking at something on hanni’s phone.
it was when they both looked at you with grins that you knew it wasn’t anything good.
“a little birdie dropped a photo of you last night y/n!” hanni snickered, showing you a photo of yourself sprawled out on danielle’s bed. you were lying on top of some papers and still had a pen in hand.
you felt danielle let go of your arm as haerin chuckled on the side. you suddenly missed the warmth at your side and so you turned your head sharply towards danielle as she looked away quickly, pretending to look busy. she had her hand behind her neck, avoiding all eye contact with you but she was wearing this big smile on her face.
“has the school lawn always looked so green?”
you flicked at danielle’s temple, watching her poke out her tongue in a smile. you watched her with a smile as the morning sun hit her face at the right angle. she looked so beautiful. you knew there were four pairs of eyes eyeing both you and danielle intensely, but that didn’t stop you from admiring your friend.
hyein suddenly wrapped her arms around both your and danielle’s shoulders.
“okay! now, you may kiss the bride!” she exclaimed, leaving both you and danielle startled and flushed.
you and danielle sat side by side, surrounded by books. this time around, you both decided to work in the library.
“ok, so, i think for the project we should set it up like this,” danielle explained, showing you examples on her laptop while jotting some notes down in a notebook. you nodded in agreement, giving danielle some of your own notes and ideas.
the two of you work well together, as if you both shared the same brain. you both fed each other ideas and ran with it. it was natural for the two of you, being able to connect and then lock in.
danielle put her pen down to type something on her computer, you writing something down in the meantime. as danielle went to reach for her pen again, she accidentally knocked it down. you noticed the pen fall from your peripheral vision and so went down to reach for it. danielle went to grab her pen as well, her hand colliding with yours for a brief moment.
you both freeze. you’ve touched hands before, even held hands. so why was this any different? touching her hand sent a shock through your body—traveling from your hand all the way up your spine.
you turned your head to look at danielle before taking back your hand, letting her pick up her pen.
“um, sorry,” you muttered, holding your hand. danielle flashed you a smile before reassuring you that it’s fine.
you were lying down on a patch of grass, looking up to the clear skies above you. you could hear minji and hanni bickering about something, but you didn’t pay much attention to it. all you knew was that danielle wasn’t here, she was stuck in one of her classes and so you were left missing her during lunch.
“so, what are you gonna do?” hyein said, poking at your shoulder. “do about what?” “you know, your big crush on dani!” you quickly sat up to cover her mouth, looking around cautiously before you took your hand off her mouth.
hyein looked at you with a pout as you glared at her.
“no ‘cause i agree with hyein. when are you going to make a move?” haerin interjected. you opened up your mouth to say something, before closing it momentarily.
“she’s just a friend,” you said with a nod.
you watched as hanni and minji slowly stopped bickering, opening their ears to your conversation.
“that’s exactly what adrien said about marinette, now look at them,” hanni exclaimed, pointing her finger at you.
“who?”
“the dumb blonde and the blue haired girl from miraculous ladybug.”
“ooohh..”
“no, seriously though. do you plan on making a move?” hanni asked curiously. you looked at her and shrugged your shoulders.
“i mean, i think i’m just gonna wait this out,” you reply with a heavy sigh.
“excuses i hear,” hyein continued to pout. you smacked her arm with a frown. “hey, i’m just sayin’! she’s probably thinking the same as you! you could totally make a move and get her hand in marriage or whatever,” hyein smiled.
“man, you gotta start respecting your elders,” you snorted while poking hyein aggressively, making her squirm and giggle. “what do i even say if i hypothetically ask her out?” you questioned.
minji raised her finger as if a light bulb went off in her head. “you could tell her you think she’s cool!” she said confidently. “that i think she’s cool?” “yep!” “that’s a stupid idea.” “now look at who's talking about respecting their elders.”
“y/n!” you heard a familiar voice yell out. you turned to look at danielle running towards you and the others. “what are you guys talking about?” danielle beamed, immediately sitting next to you and holding onto your arm.
“nothing important, it’s ok,” you said in response, earning a few judgey glances from the others.
you sat quietly in danielle’s bedroom once more. this time, you were very awake and you made sure not to fall asleep on the papers again. maybe it was just you, but you could feel this tension rising between you and danielle, and it freaked you out. you weren’t sure when it started, but suddenly the two of you have been more awkward around each other.
you raise your head from your notes to look at danielle, noticing that she was already looking at you with such concentration you couldn’t describe in words. she quickly glanced away when you made eye contact with her, a slight pink tinting her cheeks.
you both continued to work in silence for the next hour before you decided that this was enough work for today. you got up from the bed as danielle walked you down to the front door.
you opened the front door before turning back to face danielle. you looked into her eyes, and there was something behind those eyes you couldn’t quite make out. danielle was looking at you with eyes so soft. it seemed so affectionate, and it pierced your heart.
“what is it? do i have something on my face?” you chuckled nervously. danielle was in such a trance, it was almost like she didn’t hear the words that came out of your lips.
“huh? oh, no you don’t have anything on your face. i just.. i was thinking of how well we’re doing on the project!” danielle said hesitantly, flashing a bright smile.
you smiled back before pressing your lips together and walking out the front door. you turned back to look at danielle and waved goodbye before walking off.
you heard the door to danielle’s house close, before you went to fumble your phone out of your bag. you scrolled through your contacts before calling hanni.
“y/n?” she said in concern.
“i need help! i don’t know what happened but there was something in the air and i fear i may have fumbled..” you said all in one go. you let out a big sigh before continuing. “i think i messed up a chance there, hanni.”
“dude, if you don’t call her and tell her you forgot something i might jump you. take your chance, mate,” hanni advised.
you felt your world stop, not hearing another word that came out of your phone. you? take your chance? with danielle? you know you had just called hanni to tell her that you messed up your chance, but it was still nerve wracking to think about making a move.
“y/n? hello? are you ok?” hanni asked with a lace of concern in her voice.
“do you think i have a chance?” you asked hesitantly.
“yes, you do. now go kiss her or whatever,” you heard her chuckle through the phone. “wait, before you do, why’d you call me? do i just have an overwhelming amount of rizz?” she snorted.
“don’t tell the other’s i said this, but yes,” you chuckle. you could hear hanni smile through the phone before she ushered you to go and call danielle.
the phone rang with danielle’s name on the screen.
“hello? y/n? what’s up?” you heard her say, her voice like honey in your ears.
“hey, dani! i, um, i think i forgot something at your place. could you wait for me at the front?” you asked softly.
when danielle gave you the affirmative, you turned on your heel and began to run towards danielle’s house. you ran up to the gate of her house before coming face to face with her.
“so, what did you forget that you had to run back here?” danielle chuckled.
you didn’t say anything, only looked into her eyes as you tried regaining your breath. you inhaled a big whiff of air before exhaling, danielle now looking at you with concern.
“y/n, are you feeling ok?” she questioned.
you gave her a big nod before speaking. “i just.. i almost forgot something important!” you smiled.
you swiftly brought your hands to cradle danielle’s face, and you felt her lean ever so slightly into your touch. you quickly left a kiss on her cheek, watching her eyes widen as her cheeks began to flush. you could feel your own cheeks grow warm as you let go of danielle’s face. you stepped back onto your heel.
“um, bye dani! see you.. later!!” you blurted before dashing off.
hanni
hanni sooo how was it? y/n HORRIBLE I KISSED HER ON THE CHEEK hanniWHAT y/n THEN I RAN AWAY 😭 did i fumble yes or no hanni noooo i mean it could turn out ok! how did she react? y/n… i dont rememerb… hanni U FUMBLER 💀 y/n wait sm1s at the door brb
you walked through your house and towards your front door, opening it to reveal a very familiar face.
“danielle! um, what—what are you doing here?” you stuttered. you watched as danielle heaved and heaved, clearly catching her breath.
did she run to your house? why would she do that? did she run to you to reject you? different thoughts continued to race through your mind before danielle began to smile.
“i, um, i almost forgot something!” she beamed before rising to her toes.
danielle held cradled your face like you did before to her. you could feel her breath on your lips.
“we’re both such forgetful people,” you murmur. you heard danielle hum in agreement before she closed the space between the both of you.
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hii, I was wondering if you can do blurb base off the kids being interrogated by the police & the parents during episode seven while bug & the gang were in the upside down please? I can see Ms.Henderson being absolutely worried sick wondering where her daughter is at
claudia henderson i adore u im so sorry ur kids give u twenty heart attacks a year :(
words: 1.6k
enjoy !
“And what, exactly, were you all doing at the lake?” Chief Powell stares at the three teens in front of him, all with varying levels of guilt written on their faces.
Dustin looks at his friends helplessly, his mother’s eyes bearing down at him, and he has no idea what to say or where you are or how he’s even ended up in this situation.
“We were just going for a walk.” Max responds cooly, months of lying finally being put to use.
“A walk?” Officer Callahan laughs, mocking. “At 9:00PM?”
Dustin squeaks something out about taking a night swim, voice nasally and high and not at all convincing. He’s sweating and he really wishes you were here right now. You’ve always been better with people compared to him. A more naive face, innocent enough.
“A little night swim…” He squeaks out again.
The Wheeler’s living room is silent and Dustin can feel the disappointment radiating from Lucas and Max. He closes his eyes, barely suppressing a wince.
“Dusty…” Claudia steps forward, face stained with hours of tears and years of grief and worrying for her children. “Someone was just murdered at the lake.”
When she got the call from Hawkins’ police, somehow Claudia knew it’d be about you and Dustin. Every year you hide new scars from her, new broken limbs and shattered lungs. Every year Claudia has to swallow down her concern and anxiety and trust that her kids are capable, that they’re protecting the other the way she always raised them to do.
Now, it’s only Dustin who sits on the couch with Lucas and Max. You’re nowhere to be found. Claudia doesn’t think she’s ever seen you without your brother. You were only three when he was born, and since then all you’ve ever done is take care of him.
“Where’s Y/N?”
The tears in his mother’s voice cause Dustin’s heart to clench. He can’t look her in the eye. He can’t give her an answer. He doesn’t know where his sister has gone.
“She’s with Steve.” Max’s knee knocks against Dustin’s, soft but firm, silently telling him that she’ll cover for you. She knows you and him hate lying to your mother. “They went to go make sure Mrs. Waters was doing alright. Y/N was worried about her, since, you know…”
“Random teens started dying?” Callahan crudely finishes for her.
Powell tiredly snaps his fingers at the officer. He looks at the teens again and sighs. “You’re telling me that your sister is conveniently taking care of an old woman while you’re actively being investigated for murder?”
“She’s always been an angel, hasn’t she?” Dustin grins wide at him, pink gum poking over his white teeth.
The officer sighs again and Karen Wheeler looks pointedly at the teens. “Well what about Nancy? Was she with you at this night swim?”
“No,” Max says at the same time Dustin responds, “Yes.”
Max glares at him and Dustin buries his body deeper into the couch. They really should come up with a party rule to always say no to authority. At this point, they direly need some regulations when it comes to being interrogated by the police.
It only goes downhill from there. Dustin makes up some vague story about Nancy being at the lake with them and then leaving. Max says she was dared to tell the police that they found the murderer. Lucas laughs a sterilized laugh and Dustin whimpers out his own, the police officers’ eyes scrutinizing their every little move.
“You’re lucky you didn’t get shot,” Ted Wheeler gruffs out, to which Dustin forces a smile on his face.
“Have you had any contact with Eddie?”
Dustin scoffs at Powell. “That psycho freak killer?” He pretends he’s you, abhorring the idea of Eddie and his existence. “God, no.”
Max and Lucas join in on the lie, the three of them pretending that they haven’t spent the last few days harboring a fugitive, when Erica, who has been silently watching this entire time, shoves past the officers.
“Oh, that’s a bunch of bull!” She accuses them of lying and ignores her parents, who try and reel in her attitude and resolve. “Just the facts!”
Claudia’s teary eyes settle on her son. “Are you lying to these policemen, Dusty?” She places a shaky hand over her heart. “After everything Y/N and I taught you?”
“No!”
If anything, you should’ve taught Dustin more about lying and creating believable cover stories rather than which sugar is best for baking.
His head starts to pound and Lucas’ parents start to interrogate him and Erica continues to point fingers at them and Mr. Wheeler opens his mouth about arresting the teens and suddenly it’s a cacophony of accusations and arguing and demands as everyone in the room starts to speak at once.
“Shut up!” Powell’s deep, commanding voice silences the anguished room.
Everyone stares at the man, wide eyed and alarmed, and when he has full attention, he turns to Max. “We’re gonna try a more civilized approach. One at a time. You first.”
Max tries to protest, but then Callahan threatens to put her in handcuffs and all she can do is force her mouth shut and swallow down her pride. She follows the men out of the room, casting Dustin and Lucas one last look.
Get this shitshow sorted out.
Lucas drops his head in his hands. “We need Y/N.”
“No kidding,” Dustin rubs his eyes tiredly.
Max is gone for a long time. Long enough for your brother to sneak into the bathroom and whip out Cerebro.
“Y/N? Y/N, I swear to God, where are you? We’ve been collared by the law and I think mom is one panic attack away from a coffin. Answer me!”
But all that rustles over the speaker is silence, and Dustin wants to scream. He angrily shoves the walkie back into his pocket and sneaks into the kitchen. He tries to ignore the conversation he overhears from the parents, the mention of lawyers and lawsuits unnerving him.
“Do I need to call their father?” Claudia’s shrill, anxious voice only makes Dustin walk faster into the kitchen. He doesn’t want to think about what would happen if your dad got involved in everything.
“Anything?” Lucas asks him when he gets back.
Dustin shakes his head. “Nothing.”
“You don’t think they went through…”
“Through Watergate?” Dustin is quick to dismiss the idea. “Without us? Without a plan? Without weapons? Y/N loses her mind every time I so much as even say the phrase ‘upside down’. No. No way in hell she’d let anyone be that stupid.”
Lucas nods reluctantly and Dustin tries to reason that your unusual radio silence is because somehow you found out about the cops detaining them. While you’d never just disappear out of Dustin’s life without any explanation, you’d also never jeopardize his life, either.
You’re just laying low, waiting for the right moment to help. It’s what you always do.
Only Erica then walks in and mocks everything Dustin and Lucas are desperately trying to hold together. She demands to let in on what’s going on, always smarter than everyone else in the room.
Knowing they’re cornered, Lucas threatens to smother his sister in her sleep if she so much as even mentions anything to her friends or their parents. He explains Lover’s Lake and Vecna and how your group suddenly disappeared, and in her Socratic questioning, Dustin realizes something.
“Erica raises an essential question,” he turns to Lucas. “How did Watergate open up?”
And then, one by one, every question that has been haunting Dustin ever since he found out you’d been marked by Vecna suddenly falls into place.
Vecna isn’t just killing people. He’s making psychic connections with them in order to open more gates.
The realization sets Dustin’s skin crawling. You’re being targeted for a means far greater than their end, and he can’t do anything. You’re a pawn in a game much bigger than anyone could ever realize, and now you’re missing.
And now that Dustin knows that the Mind Flayer himself is the cause behind your impending demise, all he wants to do is hold your hand again.
“I should’ve never let Y/N get onto that goddamn boat,” Dustin tugs at his hair, pacing the house as the weight of everything settles upon him. “God, the Mind Flayer wants her dead so that he can take over the world and we still don’t know why.”
Lucas nudges his shoulder. “We’ll find her, man. We last saw her at the gate, right? So all we gotta do is figure out what created it, and maybe that’ll lead us to her.”
Dustin’s heart beats wildly in his chest, but he nods at Lucas’ words. It’s all they’ve got right now. If they can piece together the connection between El and Vecna, then they’ll be able to find you.
They have to be able to find you.
And when Eric notices the flickering lights in the kitchen, their pulse beating out S.O.S., he’s drawn to them.
He can almost feel your fingers flicking at the brim of his hat. Your nails pinching his skin every time he says something crude. The smell of your perfume and the soft scolding of your voice that never quite hides the fondness for him anyways.
“Y/N…” Dustin breathes out. “What did you do?”
The lights flicker above your brother and he knows you’re on the other side. Terrified just as much as he is. Desperate to come home.
-
﹂director's cut masterlist
﹂if youd like to buy me a coffee ☕︎
#ask#anon#m speaks#m's writing#come home director's cut#dustin n bug best siblings ever#everyone agrees !
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um um um if ur in an ochako mood 🫣🫣🫣🫣 gym gf ochaaaa 😩😩🩷🩷 im thinking smau but tbh whatever inspires u if you feel it <333
SLIM PICKINS (gym!gf!ochako x f!reader)
authors note: ughh buff ochako i love u shes such a girlkisser idccc m.list + alsooo emergency commissions are open! more info here comms <3
gym!gf!ochako who always drinks a birthday cake protein shake before her vigorous workouts. And despite your immediate reaction of “yuck” every time she tries to get you to take a sip—her round cheeks and plump lips forming into a shit-eating grin—her eyes hold no malice. She just loves teasing you, is all.
gym!gf!ochako who, despite you deeming her protein shakes as disgusting, always makes sure to stop by the local café near the apartment (you both share) to pick up your favorite blueberry matcha (extra cold foam, of course). She jogs into the apartment, a cheeky grin dotting her face as she holds the cold drink in one of her large hands and a chocolate chip muffin in the other (yes, she always picks up a sweet treat for you). She taps her foot obnoxiously, letting out a loud “sighhh” when she grows impatient, and just when she turns to jog out the door for the gym—you're pulling her back in by the strap of her sports bra, planting messy kisses all over her face (because if she gets to tease, then so do you!).
"There, done pouting now?" you grin.
Ochako just huffs, turning her face slightly, pink dusting her cheeks, before you squeeze her face together with one hand, making her resemble a pufferfish.
"Ya big baby."
And just like that, she becomes a stuttering, blushing mess before finally planting a quick kiss on your forehead and dashing out the door.
gym!gf!ochako who drags you to the gym every Saturday. Now, you hate the gym—hate being watched, hate the ogling guys—but the perk of dating a pro hero? You get a secluded gym.
Today is supposed to be your yoga class, the one you had begged Ochako to join. So here you are, trying to meditate, but all you can hear is the fidgeting noises she’s making—shuffling, sighing, adjusting, tapping her fingers on the mat. She’s restless, her body needs to move.
"Babe... Babe... Babeeee."
Her voice is a quiet whine, insistent. She pokes at your arm, then your thigh, then your cheek.
You finally give in—because you're a totally nice girlfriend (totally not because you wanna see her bench press 380 with ease).
And when she does? Yeah. You’re so not regretting giving in.
gym!gf!ochako who’s always supporting you, even when she’s deep in training with Gunhead (when their schedules align, anyway—pro hero life and all). She always makes sure to drag you with her, claiming she needs you there for support. But in reality? You give her something to fight for. You’re her motivation.
Every time she dodges a punch, her head turns just enough to find your eyes—your cheerful smile—and it’s exactly what keeps her going.
And, of course, she loves to cheer you on, too. Whether it’s yoga, pilates, or whatever you do (she gets them confused a lot), she’s always on the sidelines, clapping and grinning like your biggest fan.
gym!gf!ochako who loves to watch your eyes roll, followed by a scoff, whenever she flexes in front of you in the most annoying way possible. Acting like some dudebro, puffing out her chest, waggling her brows—all of it done solely to piss you off.
But what she doesn’t know is how bad it makes you wanna kiss her stupid.
gym!gf!ochako who insists on carrying all your bags. Her quick reflexes mean she’s always the first to scoop them up before you even reach for them. And at even the mention of your feet hurting after an all-day shopping trip? Yeah, you’re in her arms before you can protest.
gym!gf!ochako who you forced to do the Slim Pickins trend with… but the moment she hoists you up with one arm (effortlessly might I add), you both immediately get distracted, giggles spilling between you.
The video plays in the background, but neither of you care.
Because soon enough, she’s coating your face in incessant pecks of kisses, the sound of your laughter mixing with the faint audio—
"A boy, who’s jacked and kind."
And yeah, that's your girl.
p.s sorry if this isn't my best work i'm sorta unsure of how to write gym goers honestly butttt i loved this idea so thank u for requesting <3
#mha ochako#i love love loveeee writing ochako so much#ochako x reader#ochako urakara#uravity#mha uraraka#drabbles#fanfiction#wlw#mha#ochako uraraka#mha x female reader#mha x reader#mha x y/n
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WE’RE MEANT TO BE
synopsis: maybe you weren’t so done with nika as you thought
WARNINGS: part 4, cussing, arguing, bad writing
it had now been 4 months since the jet night at ted’s. and you meant it when you said you didn’t want to know nika anymore. you did everything in your power to avoid her and to not think of her. and you were successful.. for the most part.
your season was over. finally. so now it was enjoying the rest of the school year, with ocasional practices of course but nothing you couldn’t handle. you were content with how your life was going now. one thing you did change over the course of these months was that you no longer went out every weekend like you used to. you stopped spontaneously hooking up with people. you were just enjoying the college life. and you were doing good.
so today you had a free day for the most part besides catching up on some homework. you were in your dorm enjoying your alone time when your phone buzzed. thinking nothing of it you check to see what the notification was. as you check your phone your stomach drops.
it was an unknown number. the messages stated ‘i need to talk to. please. it’s important. -nika’. how did she even get your number? you had no idea why she barely reached out now after 4 months of no contact. you were confused to say the least. you didn’t know what to do. your brain was telling you to ignore the message. you’re don’t with her. you don’t need her. but your heart was ted something else.
before overthinking it you sent a text back reading ‘okay.’ a simple response. your heart was practically beating out of your chest. why did you just do that?
what you didn’t know what that nika was freaking out that you had even replied in the first place. she was so sure that you weren’t going to. and to not keep you waiting so long she replied instantly ‘come to my dorm?’.
on your end you opened the message as fast as you could. ‘yeah, send the address.” simple. nika replied yet again ‘were in the same building. room 204.’ and with that message you were on your way. your mind was racing. you had no idea why you even accepted to this. you were done with her.. right? what could she possibly say you thought. and before you knew it you were at her door. but you hadn’t knocked for some reason. you couldn’t. you were nervous. eventually you knocked.
nika opened the door, shock written all over her face that you had actually agreed to talk to her. she stepped aside letting you in to her apartment. when you walked in you noticed every little thing about her dorm. she hadn’t changed. everything about her dorm reminded you of her old house and when you would go over. it made you feel uneasy.
“thank you for coming. i know you didn’t want to hear from me and you didn’t owe me anything but im glad you came.” nika stated. “uh would you like something to drink?” she asked after a few moments of silence. “i’m okay thank you” you replied. “okay well you can take a seat on the couch if you’d like” nika said as she sat down herself. you nodded and sat with a bit of distance between you two.
“why’d you ask me here nika?” you asked look at her. she sighed before she answered. “i just wanted to tell you the truth. i needed you to hear it even if we weren’t talking anymore.” she said. “okay.” you replied indicating her to keep going.
“when we hooked up, i didn’t cheat on my boyfriend. we we were on a break. we had this huge fight and decided to take a break. and when you saw us at the gym we had barely gotten back together. you weren’t just a quick fuck to me okay? you mean more than that to me.” nika said in a slight whisper. you stared at her in complete disbelief. what did she mean by you mean more to me? do you still mean something to her? before you could ask she started talking again. “i know im nothing to you now but i just wanted you to know that me leaving that day without saying goodbye was the worst thing i could have ever done. if i could go back i would.” she said. you looked at her and saw tears in her eyes. that sight made you want to drop everything and hug her.
but you didnt.
you couldn’t believe what you were hearing. after all these years you finally heard what you wanted. you wanted to be with nika since the day you guys had become best friends. you waited for the day but it never came. was this the day it all turned around.
“nika i don’t know what to say.” you said honestly. she sighed looking down. as if that wasn’t the answer she was hoping for. “that’s okay. i just wanted you to know. i know you wanted nothing to do with me anymore so don’t worry i wont reach out to you again.” she said, her tone laced with sadness. but that’s not what you wanted.
“nika look, i love you. i always have and always will. but you hurt me so bad.” you said. “i know and i don’t know what else to say other than im sorry. but i can’t go on without you.” nika said tears finally slipping from her eyes. and in that moment you broke.
“come here.” you said with your arms open for her. she fell into you and it was like your bodies were meant for each other. perfectly molding together. and in that moment you knew you couldn’t never hate her. but working to where you were before was going to take time. and maybe even becoming more.
“nika i want to be with you i do. but it’s going to take time. we haven’t had a meaningful conversation in years.” you said. and she nodded while her head was on your chest. “we can start over.” you said. “no bad blood, nothing. we start from scratch and we build our way up back to being friends.” you said. nikas heart shattered with the word friends. but before she could speak you said “and maybe more than friends.”
and with that nika was happy. it didn’t have to be right now but as long as you didn’t hate her she was happy.
“i can work with that.” nika said with a cheesy smile.
A/N: this got kind of sloppy but happy ending kinda?? anyway this is the last part of this little series but i hope you guys enjoyed it!!
please leave me some requests 🙏
#uconn#uconn wbb#uconn huskies#uconn women’s basketball#nika muhl#nika muhl x reader#wnba x reader#wnba#wnba imagine#seattle storm
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i feel as i see you get very few asks regarding the actual plot of the story and thats indane for how much ive been thinking about it !! mahaps its just because im obsessed with fantasy settings with dubious religions and deity dynamics.
anyway, here one of many word vomits of my thoughts and theories
im running off the assumption that the mark on mc's skin is most definitely from the 'unknown' god, but it had me thinking abt the prolouge!! with mc's mother, and those two people who called mc "worthless" or as if mc was missing something? some remnant of magic i guess. ot smells very CULTY to me !! i wonder if theres some sort of cult or faction dedicated to this secret god? or to thise cursed by said god?
makes me wonder if our sickness comes from the god or our mother. its a huge stretch i realize but what if before yaknow, dying, she had done something to concele whatever those two people where searching for in us? likely not but its a cool thought, screaming sjahabbs
with all the talk about our dads, i am very curious when/if we will be able to incounter more information about our parents? like pur father? is he alive?? sigh
They come in here and there, but I think a lot of focus goes to the RO storylines and the MC's internal struggles. And really, I can probably talk more about those things than the main story most of the time (all those juicy secrets, you know). I think when some major points are finally revealed, more questions might roll in, lol.
I dig your take on things though. You'll have to check back in with me when you learn a little more. 😉
Through the story you will learn more about all your parents both bio and adoptive. It may take a bit longer to get down to the details of the MC's birth parents, but you'll learn some fun things about Dov & Kip as soon as chapter 6! ^_^
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Man, Helluva is not as funny for me as it used to, Hazbin Hotel is in coma, Villainous six feet underground...
All the hopes and dreams I had in 2018-2019 for those two creators are being crushed so far. Fuck... Fucking fuck.
#No I dont hate Helluva Boss#I just dont like the episodes as much as before#They replaced the dark humor with sex jokes and the main plot in a novela so... Idk#Thats my point of view btw and mine alone#Also the news about Hazbin that appear on twitter and YouTube#Im feeling more and more done with all this *sigh*#I dont want to spend the few moments I have on the Internet getting frustrated and sad
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"There's no need to ask about this question. I know best whether I like him or not. But, I can't. He's my ge."
THE ON1Y ONE (2024). EPISODE TWELVE.
#the on1y one#asianlgbtqdramas#asiandramasource#twdramaedit#dramasource#tvedit#*#faiza gifs#that one word 'ge' ................................... the fucking WORLDS APART they became bc of it.#sigh .................... SIIIIIIIIIIIGHHH#i get it i get it I GET IT 24 hours laters after a sleep im more chill about it ig but yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa.#god i cant help but just FEEL for jiang tian who has ONCE AGAIN emotionally had to become distant from someone#he devoted himself to#and how sheng wang is ONCE AGAIN isolating himself and just keeping EVERYTHING within OH MAN.#and the worst part of it is jiang tian KNOWS sheng wang's done it ALL on purpose. OF COURSE he KNOWS.#and sheng wang KNOWS that jiang tian KNOWS. and UGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. GOD.
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killing people who don’t get an animals consent before touching them &/or ignore when animals are visibly uncomfortable with being touched.
#MOTHERS FRIEND DOING THIS WITH OUR CAT RN IM PISSED.#SHE DIDNT EVEN GIVE TOFU ANY TIME TO SNIFF OR ANYTHING??#Sigh.#tofu came downstairs to see what was up bc person was in the house#But person just immediately started petting her#even tho tofu was visibly uncomfortable and clearly just wanted a sniff test or sm#went to my room asap after that and tofu followed quick on my heels#obvs I let her sniff as much as she wants before petting her (if she even wants fuss) so she had a sniff and very much seemed to want fuss#so I gave her a few strokes and then sorta checked in and she swirled around and bumped her head into my hand (all the while her tail was#pointed straight up with the tip quivering a little every few moments - a sign of happiness/excitement to see a familiar person)#so we had cuddles for a bit until she hopped off my chest to go get water or sm :3#BUT I DONT GET WHY MORE PEOPLE DONT HAVE SIMPLE WHOLESOME INTERACTION WITH THEIR CAT LIKE THIS??#LIKE. CATS ARE SENTIENT. THEY SEEK AUTONOMY - ESPECIALLY BODILY AUTONOMY. WHY TF WOULD YOU NOT LET THEM GIVE/DENY CONSENT??#like. if you aren’t willing to learn enough about an animal to understand when it’s unhappy at the very least *why* would you interact with#one?? (This person literally has a cat as well.)#idk man these are the same sorts of people that’d probably do the ‘awww just give me a hug! I’m your auntie(/whatever)! why can’t i have a#hug? 🥺’ sorta thing.. like. BRO. It isn’t my/the cat ‘s fucking job to regulate/look after your own grown ass feelings.#SIGH..#just. The fact this person has like.. met tofu once. Lived in the same house as her for maybe 4/5 days one time and thinks the cat is#obligated to put up with her or whatever.#(This is how I imagine people be acting around cats when they’re like ‘idk man cats just don’t like me! Cats are just independent by nature#I’m just stood there having to listen to them shit talk a whole species bc they don’t understand consent (or at least don’t universally#value it - eg; with children; with animals) ANYWAYS. CATS ARE A SOCIAL SPECIES WHO HAVE DEVELOPED TO LIVE CLOSELY WITH AND DEPEND ON HUMANS#THEYRE OFTEN VERY AFFECTIONATE AND LOVING AND FORM LASTING RELATIONSHIPS WITH THEIR HUMANS AND WILL MOURN THEIR DEATH PROBABLY MORE THAN#HALF OF THE HUMANS WHO ATTENDED THEIR FUNERAL.)#If tofu doesn’t like you I don’t like you mate. I am wholeheartedly willing to cut people off if they act wrong with my cat - like - BRO.#IVE KNOWN HER LONGER THAN I HAVE MOST OTHER PPL IN MY LIFE. SHES GOT ME THROUGH WORSE AND IS ALWAYS HAPPY N EXCITED TO SEE ME.#That cat has done more for me than you ever have! She loves me with her whole fucking soul and I her with mine. If she picks up the wrong#vibes from you/you break any of her clearly set boundaries we are DONE.#(Obvs /nbh - nobody here. & generally lighthearted but uhh yeah needed to rant abt this bc I care strongly abt it and other ppl should too)
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^ face of someone (me) who just finished the arcane finale
#GOODNIGHT I NEED TO PROCESS#im STRUCK#there r tears rolling down my cheeks fuck this damn show😭😭 (affectionate. this is the peak of all media ever)#okay yall arcane spoilers#arcane#arcane s2#that ending was honestly SO well done#the WHOLE finale#and all the rest lmao#but fucking GOD#the cycle....and the way each character was considered within..just- SO GOOD#and ekko......#and JAYCE oml yall better take back all the shit tbh he's genuinely become such an intriguing character throughout s2#and going to admit. i did Not care abt him in s1 sry😞#but the s2 arc has been captivating from the start and jayce is NO exception#also viktor's eyes im so glad we got to see them again. ohhh the irony of grief and relief mean SO much to me#his eyes. mean sm to Me. doomed scientist yaoi i lov e u#and mel.....omg not much to say regarding initial thoughts. im afraid haha. buuut i wanted to learn more about her link to the black rose#LOVED ambessa. her characterisation was so brilliantly captivating that i dont think i ever rlly hated her lmao#and jinxx omfg im sick. i love her so much. oh fucking hell ep7 killed me actually. im dead.#the sisters r so close all throughout the show and i loved the little direct confirmation of this like i actually started crying then#and VI oh my goddddd vi. could write a thesis on her. the visual rep of the lessening of her guilt after jinx. with singing. with acceptanc#oh fml im going a little insane i love this show so much#and VANDERRR and the beast and FUCK how even at the end he covered jinx.#i love how the show covered her end. it feels like a sigh of relief. the final breath. u end up hoping the best for her.#OH MAN THE MUSIC STARTED AND I STARTED CRYING SO HARD.#this is s1 ep3 all over again#oh and HOLY SHIT we got lesbian sex im ECSTATIC. thannk u fortiche for the whole show but yeah. especially. uhm. this.#okay im loggin off now i need to clock out and sleep. process my thoughts and then word vomit tmr.#nyx talks shit
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its really starting to bother me that theres so little to be done for karlach in act 3. like when you first meet dammon he seems so hopeful about finding a solution. he runs through a bunch of ideas and says he cant do anything with the tools he has but he'll keep looking. and then when you meet him in act 2 hes says he cant think of anything but he'll keep trying. and then in act 3?? all he says is that he cant find a solution. theres no way to ask him what research hes been doing. no way to try and do any research yourself.
karlach's companion quest basically ends in act 2. you get that second upgrade and it doesn't make a difference to the way her endings turn out. yeah you can touch her, but that's it. theres still only two 'good' endings for her character.
and it feels like theres so much we should be trying to do? the steel watchers are made of infernal iron. every single watcher has a piece of infernal iron you can collect. some of them even have enriched infernal iron. and apart from the armor dammon can make... there's nothing else to be done with those pieces? even the enriched infernal iron doesnt seem to serve a bigger purpose.
i feel like i should be able to talk to the gondian gnomes for help. they built the steel watchers, which are made of infernal iron and can blast hellfire at you. we can literally go to hell and theres no way to look around or ask about a solution. theres a magic tower with a locked vault and no way to look for magic to nullify/contain the heat.
also we cant talk to karlach about going to stay in the house of hope? i know one of the endings is that she can go to avernus with wyll but shouldn't we be able to suggest she can stay with hope? who's literally trying to make a place of hope in the middle of the hells? theres even portals in one of the rooms to a bunch of places. she could come and go as she pleases. we already have the means to visit if we want.
like i get it the whole point is that shes doomed from the start tragedy etc etc but it still sucks that we can't at least try to do more when it feels like theres so many ways we should be able to
#baldur's gate 3#baldur's gate 3 spoilers#karlach#bg3#bg3 critical#i guess? if people want to avoid anything negative#im just kind of bummed i started romancing her on my first playthrough and discovered theres really only two endings where she doesnt die#and they both kind of suck#and got disheartened and haven't finished it#and im doing another playthrough where i skilled the grove stuff so she only has one upgrade and discovered that it doesn't change her end#at all#her companion quest basically ends in act 2. after that theres nothing to be done#also what does that first upgrade even do??? i know it makes her feel more powerful but does that actually change her stats???#why cant the first upgrade let me hug her#why cant the second upgrade stabilize her more#why is one of my fav companions so neglected in act 3 le sigh
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christmas eve ramble tags and some pictures of me and nice things from this year that i have randomly at 2:47am on christmas eve decided to post on tumblr. like why am I posting my face idek but I just felt reflective and i always just dump my rambles on whichever blog I'm using the most 🙈 i have not thought very hard about picking these. my motivation is that i want to force myself into acknowledging that for the majority of this year i felt good. I did good things for my health, and at work, and for my friends and family (even though I am desperate always to tell myself that i have never done anything good for anyone ever.) I found a new fun thing & lovely kind fun people to help me explore it. i got to sleep with my hand on/in Henry (cat not popstar) belly fur. yes i started having panic attacks about stuff to do w my dad, and money is tight (i mean i live in syd..) and i miss my mum and sara and i maybeee spent far too much time speaking to my ex fiance until he went on some rant about family law and I got the ick for once and for all lmao - but i was happy on many occasions.
#so we're doing Christmas tomorrow on Christmas Eve#well its 2.30am so we're doing Christmas today on Christmas Eve#ive been up late making Cypriot Grain Salad and freezing packs of scallops#no not a strange chrissie tradition just the fish place i ordered from listed them as $3.50 each so i ordered 12 just as a little two bite#mouthful each along w the oysters#and they sent 12 packs of 6#which do NOT cost 3.50 each#i actually feel a bit bad#anyway i froze most of them#we didn't do a tree this year#i think last year i did the tree and needed to needed the connection to mum#but this year when i mentioned it to Imi she sighed. and its no fun on your own#so i bought a lovely Christmas Bush and ive twisted those wire fairy lights around it and some little icicle tinsel#i need to sleep for a few hours and then get up and tidy the balcony and vacuum and clean the toilet and wrap presents#can you imagine if i had been able to have kids i am so last minute its awful#oh and a friwnd who had a horrid miscarriage#sorry they are all horrid#but shes pregnant and thats really great news#and my dad was nice to me today when we talked#also i took an extra week of leave off so now im having a month#which is so nice#im going to finish two fics#send cards and parcels to ao many people#i have replies from when my mum died ive still not done#im going to clean out the grarage#im going to swim everyday and try my harsest not to get burnt#okay maybe every second day#summer!#iveet stuff w my dad take away my happiness i had for the first half of the year - also mourning Sara#but i feel a bit more in control and im going to lean in to being proud of what i achieved this year and in finding new joy
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*eyes shooting awake like a sleeper agent* ebb and nico were actually identical twins and ebb was transfem
#first time carry on posting in a while but this just hit me#i haven't done a reread in a hot second but iirc nico was described as looking like boy-ebb.....#rainbow if ur out there and can hear me can i have this one please#anyway. semi-regular reminder that this was a carry on blog for a few years lmao#i feel like i should tag this properly so i will#carry on series#simon snow series#carry on#ebeneza petty#nicodemus petty#im still an ebb lover after all these years and think about her often.... i remember i once halfheartedly started plotting a longfic abt her#like i wanted to do at least a year in her years at watford and more specifically my ebb/fiona rarepair.... sigh....
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Wont lie.. im still a bit bitter that my college years were during the pandemic
#damien talks#ik this has been talked a lot but man..#i went to an art school and i feel i didn't even get to try much of anything i was excited about#like the positives was that i could take it at home and not take forever to reach the school#but.. man. I'm so bitter about all the art projects i could've done or even the classes i could've taken#the art i didn't made bc of school..#i think what i remember more about projects wise was.. papers.. writing#im so sad seeing how rn they're having like classes on how to make puppets and notebooks and printing with ink#like hand made prints#sigh.. im just sad i lost those chances bc of covid
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