#like i know Im the only one that cares about it
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idea maybes
academic rival/nerd satoru… him acting all high and mighty and then is an utter virgin (but you are tew so you too together are hopeless)
YESSSSSSSS HAHAHAHA
thinking about... ❝ hopeless nerds ❞
featuring... satoru gojo
content warning: MDNI (18+), afab!reader, nerd!virgin!gojo, nerd!virgin!reader, academic rivals, two dorks, gojo is such an asshole, smut, creampie, praise kink, masturbation, inexperienced dorks tryna bang, dare i say crybaby dom gojo, sexual tension, somnophilia, sexually frustrated nerds
author's note: im sorry i haven't posted in a while!!!! my town has flooded and we've lost power a few times and i can't leave my house :,)
── nerd!gojo immediately pissing you off the moment he opens his fucking mouth.
── nerd!gojo who shares a few classes with you and he's always talking over you, has to prove your points wrong even when you back them up with facts and research.
── he does it to make you mad, you know he does. he does it because it's so easy to make you mad and it's fucking cute how your nose scrunches and how you fold your arms over your chest and give him the cold shoulder the rest of the lesson.
── "fuck you, satoru."
── "oh you wish, sweetheart."
── nerd!gojo who purposely sits next to you in class because he knows his presence drives you up the wall.
── he points out holes in your research, steals your pens off your desk, leans on your shoulder and stays there no matter how much to elbow his side, there is no peace with him.
── nerd!gojo who is tied for best grade in the class with none other than you. and fuck it makes him mad, though he would never admit it.
── nerd!gojo who teases you when you're even a single point behind him when you get your grades back.
── nerd!gojo who never hears the end of it when you do better than him on a test or essay.
── nerd!gojo who may find you annoying, but he also finds your competitiveness and smart-ass demeanour fucking hot.
── you're the only person to ever one-up him. give him a run for his place as the smartest guy in class.
── you're single-handedly his motivation to do better in class. not because he wants to, but because he needs to win.
── you're so smug when you win and you're so hot-headed when you don't. he starts to find it fucking confusing when you bicker with him or insult his intelligence and he finds it... hot.
── you could be calling him every colourful name under the sun and he would just stand there and take it with a shit-eating grin plastered across his face and his eyes peeking over his sunglasses and staring at your pretty lips.
── nerd!gojo who is also virgin!gojo, which you would never have guessed with how he holds himself– always so outwardly confident and always has soooo much to say.
── virgin!gojo who has maybe kissed two girls his whole life, forced to hole himself up in his dorm and fist his cock when he's so beyond frustrated.
── virgin!gojo who finds himself starting to think about... you.
── virgin!gojo who thinks about burying his virgin cock inside you, fucking you stupid on his cock since you always seem to have something to say.
── you find it fucking weird when he doesn't shoot back with a sarcastic comment one morning, his eyes unable to meet yours.
── now you know something's wrong because it always makes gojo's day when he sees your face flush and watches you stomp around all angry and annoyed at him.
── virgin!gojo who doesn't know what to do when he's cornered by you in the library, and for the first time, he sees you be genuine toward him.
── "aw, you care about me."
── "you know what? forget it."
── virgin!gojo who knows he needs to just shut his big mouth for once and he finally does– by slamming you against the closest bookshelf and messily kissing you like his life depends on it.
── virgin!gojo who realises he's super out of practice when it comes to kissing... or maybe you're both bad.
── virgin!gojo who panics when he gets you back to his dorm room, clumsy fingers pulling your clothes off while you nervously pull at his.
── it's slow and it's messy and there's very obviously an elephant in the room that neither of you want to address.
── but you finally bite the bullet.
── "i'm a virgin."
── "you telling me no one's ever wanted to fuck that bitchy attitude out of you?"
── "don't piss me off."
── virgin!gojo who admits he too is a virgin.
── the two of you acknowledge that there's been a sexual tension brewing between you two for a while... so maybe you should just fuck it out.
── virgin!gojo who sinks to his knees, throwing your thighs over his shoulders and pressing his curious tongue against your soaked slit.
── no one's ever touched you like that– you're getting riled up just seeing him between your thighs.
── virgin!gojo who is finally fucking quiet and lets you show him when you guide him on how to finger you. you show him where to touch you, how to touch you, where to lick and suck on you.
── and virgin!gojo who listens and he's a fast learner because he wants to please you.
── and when virgin!gojo finally sinks his huge fucking cock inside you. you nearly fucking scream.
── and virgin!gojo who has no idea he's big. no one's ever seen his cock, or felt it. he's had nothing to compare it to–
── "you're so fucking big."
── "oh, yeah? you like it, baby?"
── virgin!gojo who didn't think he'd like dirty talk as much as he does. but he likes how you whine and moan just from his voice, how he can rile you up and have you soaking his dick and the sheets just from telling you what a good girl you are.
── but also virgin!gojo who is a fucking whiner when he's getting close to his high. your virgin cunt is so warm and tight, he's never experienced such fucking bliss.
── he's whining about how good you feel, how he's never felt something so fucking mind-blowing. he just keeps fucking talking cus if he doesn't he's gonna cum.
── and virgin!gojo who fucking cries when he cums because he's on cloud fucking nine. his hips slap erratically, his thrusts are shallow and fast as he approaches his high and his fists curl into the sheets by your head to keep him grounded.
── and you just wrap your arms around his neck, hold him close as he breathes in your intoxicating scent, arms wrapped around you as he keeps his cock buried inside you alongside the ropes of cum he messily spilled inside you.
── and nerd!gojo who keeps his cock buried inside you all night, unable to part from your tight warmth.
── and you don't mind, you just pet his hair and tell him how good he did.
── and of course, nerd!gojo who wakes you up with quiet breathes by your ear, his hips slapping against your plush ass because he can't get enough of you.
── nerd!gojo who makes it his mission to make you cum. obsessed with watching you fall apart on his tongue and his fingers, or on his cock or his thigh.
── really just nerd!gojo who finds out a lot about himself and is no longer virgin!gojo because of you.
author's note: someone bring me a NERD RIGHT NOW
permanent taglist: @exclusiverinaa @starpachinko @kentotism @gumisueme @arcanefeelings @cyslips @sojumamii @naammiii @jvpit3rr @nvvxlaya @2ukika @ashyiiy @jud3thedude @antiblfanon14 @capsule-losing-contact @mrs-okkotsu222 @somethinglikero @raya4643 @julieannah @arasakaa @luciferslover @re-tired-succubus @xastoriaaurax @girlexpensive @sobbingscripter @bakuhoe37 @doechiiyz @evergumi @showtimejoseph @kimkimoruo
#jjk#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen#x reader#jjk smut#gojo#gojo satoru#gojo satoru x reader#satoru gojo x reader#satoru gojo x reader smut#satoru gojo x reader headcanon#gojo smut#gojo x reader smut#satoru x reader smut#satoru x reader#jjk gojo smut#jjk gojo#jjk gojo x reader
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oooh a new headcanon blog Im excited to see what you do with it ill start with a spicy ask what are the boys like in bed?
starting the spice right off of the bat i love it! thanks for the first ask, dear <3
rating: nsfw, 18+, minors dni cw: smut ✉︎♡: ask box open, tumblr users + anons
✦♡-✦♡-✦♡-✦♡-✦♡-✦♡-✦♡-✦♡-✦♡-✦♡-✦
Xavier:
We already know from so many of his cards that this man changes the name of the game to love and freakspace
The best way to get what you want from this man is, ironically, denying him whatever he wants
Tease him about his jealousy. Make an offhand comment about Charlie or, god forbid, Lumiere
Xavier is on you in seconds
He likes to push you up against different surfaces and take you from behind to start
Makes the dirtiest comments whispered in the sweetest sounding voice. “I can’t wait to see how well you take me.” “You’re already so wet and we haven’t even started.” “I’m going to show you how much you’re mine.”
Will only move to the bed once you are begging for him to be inside of you
So grabby. Your hair, your chin, your cheeks, your hips, anywhere he can reach to get a better angle inside of you
Loudest moaner punctuated with broken gasps, and he is doing all of it in your ear or with his lips flush against your skin
He likes finishing on the small of your back, watching the way it pools and covers the entirety of your backside
Never beating the sleepy boy allegations, but he will trace comforting circles on your back before falling asleep with you wrapped in his arms
Zayne:
Another contender for renaming the game to love and freakspace
Loves taking you on different surfaces. His office desk, the couch, up against the ladder in his library, in the shower
Has the most desperate sounding moan in the back of his throat whenever you go down on him
He likes positions where your legs can be up on his shoulders so that he can kiss your calves and your thighs. Loves watching you get goosebumps and shiver with pleasure underneath him
Usually steady surgeon hands get shaky when he is close, god you’ll be his undoing every time
One distinct groan and this man is definitely finishing all over your stomach. As a doctor, he’s heard all of the horror stories about accidental pregnancies, but if you get him in the right mood and you're both using protection, he can also be convinced to finish inside of you
If you weren’t doing it in the shower already, Zayne will carry you into the shower to clean up together afterwards
Sometimes this leads to round two, sometimes it ends with him lathering your skin with a touch so gentle you could cry
He’ll kiss every spot he touched to make sure that, even if he was a little rough before, you only feel how much he loves you after
Rafayel:
This man works himself up just thinking about you
Sends you a frenzy of texts that make you think he must be in some sort of mortal danger
When you get to his place, he acts all innocent like you were the one overreacting, but you can see that familiar hunger in his eyes
It doesn’t take long before he is all over you. Hands in your hair and up your shirt, kissing you so deeply that you'd think you were his first drink after days of dehydration
Likes hickeys, giving and receiving
You will be leaving with multiple marks on your neck, your chest, and anywhere else he can reach
He likes positions where the two of you have equal power. He starts on top, then you, then back to him. He’s happy to let you do the work but has no problem taking charge either
Whines and moans when he is close to finishing, he is incredibly vocal
Facial king. Bonus points if it drips down your chin and onto your chest
Most likely to post about taking your girl out to eat after absolutely railing her, but you’re so hungry and happy that you don’t really care
Sylus:
There is a TikTok where a girl is advocating for bringing back dry humping, and the president of this initiative is Sylus
Nothing drives him crazier than seeing the way you are absolutely losing yourself by just rolling your hips over his. He likes to buck up against you so that you can feel even more pressure too
Also president of the munch club
Does everything so slowly and deliberately because he loves hearing the broken, desperate way his name is coming out of your mouth
In terms of positions, I can see him being down to do whatever you want, but if he had his preference he’d prefer more of the classic ones where he can see your face - each nuance of your expression another clue to how he can pleasure you even better
Has insane stamina and can go all night if you want, but will also call it quits the second you say you want to stop
Breathy sounds and grunts are how you know he is close to finishing
His favorite place to finish is deep inside you (he likes seeing his massive dick twitching all the way up your abdomen), but he’s also a pearl necklace enjoyer
Has a towel warmer by the bed specifically so that he can clean you up with a warm washcloth afterwards
Will never admit it but he loves pillow talk afterwards. The two of you snuggled up in his bed, you laying on his chest while you talk about your day or your plan for tomorrow or the next outfit you want to buy for Mephie. He could listen to you talk for hours, and especially loves the way your kiss-swollen lips look after
Caleb:
He loves nothing more than just seeing you in his space when he comes home from work. The thought of you in his home, all alone, waiting for him makes him rock hard before he even walks through the door
Dominant af (as if his cards/story weren’t enough of a giveaway). Doesn’t waste any time and closes the gap between you with such speed and efficiency you almost don’t realize it until he is kissing you hungrily
You: “Not even a ‘hello?’” Caleb: “I thought I’d show you how much I missed you instead.”
He is a giver, and he prefers pleasuring you in his bed (he’s a big guy, he likes the space)
Will quite literally fuck you into the sheets if you let him. He is gripping the headboard, the bedframe groaning under the sheer strength of his thrusts, and you are helpless to do anything except beg him for more
Lots of “you like that, baby?” and “you’re doing so good for me”
When he gets close, he is the whimpering king. Biting his lip, ragged thrusts, your name and a string of profanities punctuating each whimper
Another guy who I think would absolutely love seeing his dick stretched all the way inside of you when he finishes. Nothing says you’re his more than his come leaking out of you after you’ve been thoroughly fucked
Will cook you your favorite dinner after you’re done, not letting you lift a finger because you were such a good girl for him. The rest of the night you’ll be pampered to your heart’s content
#love and deepspace#lads sylus#lads caleb#lads zayne#lads xavier#lads rafayel#lads imagines#lads headcanons#lads fic#love and deepspace imagines#love and deepspace headcanons#lnds sylus#lnds caleb#lnds xavier#lnds rafayel#lnds zayne#lnds imagines#lnds headcanons#lnds#lads#lnds smut#lads smut#love and deepspace smut#sylus smut#caleb smut#xavier smut#zayne smut#rafayel smut
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i might be thinking too much about this rather irrelevant background story for the ancient queen and ganondorf (.. yes still botw2/totk rewrite ................ its background stuff you dont get to see, it would just be a line in a hidden diary and some environtmental story telling- that bracelet being in his room- wrote a longer text post about it today but uh .. heres a doodle that took me too long to make bndksbnsd)
#ganondoodles#art#zelda#doodle#ganondorf#ganondoodles rewrites totk#botw2#i hope using that tag is fine#i dont even know if im gonna give this rewrite an actual name#though i did think about leaving it the same but the 'tears' being tears as in ripped apart#but how would i make that clear in written form lol#any YES i am thinking too much about tiny background details that are optional to find#i like the idea of having both quests for lore enthusiasts and those that only care about gameplay#and yes my pattern of pairings is showing .........#the only thing i like about rauru was the possible ship with ganondorf bc it made the 'story' mildly more interesting#and i didnt change that to not make it gay (hello? who am i??)#but bc 1. i wanted to give the sonia figure (here ancient zelda) the main part 2. .. she is the one with sealing powers#the colors always look better on my tablet but i think its calibrated right- i did somethign with my desktop screen once though#so im hoping it looks normal for everyone else#anyway- goodnight (1am gang lets goooo)
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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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#dovenet#kdiarynet#kvanity#kwritersworldnet#kim doyoung smut#nct smut#nct 127 smut#kim doyoung x reader#kim doyoung x you#nct 127#nct fic#immoral tales
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You mentioned how ace's dream was like a vague fanfiction addressing some fun fandom theories and ideas but I think whats the best part about it was how the progression up to that point made sense. Theyve dropped so many moments showing ace caring dearly for yuu to the point where this dream as fanservicey like that it was it feels natural for ace to have such a dream if that makes sense WAAGH I LOVE HIM SO MUCH
What did you think of the dream though ms raven? The dream made me wail so badly ough hes finally cried too m sure hes been through a lot 🥹 seeing cater talk to ace so sincerly it hits me so hard in the feels im so glad hes finally got to cry (a little anyways)
Ace’s dream felt like fanfiction, but at least it felt natural or like everything up to this point was leading up to this being his wish. I unfortunately cannot say that for several other dreams. Certainly ones definitely felt egregious or contrived. Some were largely fanservice (Savanaclaw Rook, dorm leader Cater, delinquent Deuce) or just excuses to make new cards (merform twins), even if it didn’t make complete sense for the character to wish for it.
dgjswvizjsowk I know you’re probably expecting me to comment on Ace in his own darn dream, but I actually have a lot more to say about Cater. Ace’s motivations + butting heads with the rescue squad were what I expected them to be (though I give him props for being the only character so far to resist waking up right away). More on my precursory thoughts in this post (but based the exact wording of your ask. I’d be tired to guess you’ve already read it 😅)! But CATER????? TELL ME WHY HE WAS THE GOAT THIS UPDATE 😭
Cater does SO much???? First he suggests the third years help Trey cook BBQ so the darkness is distracted while the others can isolate Ace and try to wake him. When that attempt fails, Cater pretends to agree with Leona’s proposal to leave Ace behind to bait Deuce to come after him to play as his support. Cater sitting down to have a heart-to-heart convo with Ace??? And then mercilessly using his UM to gang up on Ace and beat him up??? 😭 Him reminding Ace about his courage facing off against OB Riddle… Cater confessing he wanted to run, but being encouraged to join the fight because aaaaah his kouhai looked so cool and dashing!! Thanking Ace??? Finally verbalizing some of his feelings???!?!?!?!???! CATER PULLING ACE OUT OF THE DARK????? MY GOD… OTL ThE biG BRoTHER EnERGGY WaS SO DTRONgGGGGGggGGGGG
And he kept this up even into Trey’s dream???????? Where Cater once again does a TON. He volunteers to investigate since makes the most sense (he is a Heartslabyul student so it’s not shady to be in the dorm and his UM is useful for combat). Cater also the third years with him into the kitchen to have a look around. Him saying he’s impressed with Silver’s will and how he would’ve given up so much sooner if he were him???? Dropping interesting lore about Trey??? Cater admitting that he has always been a spectator and now realizes he should have done more than just watch events unfold???
CATER CONSISTeNTLY puTTING hIMSELF AnD THE THirD YEARS IN hARm’s WAy FiRST… StRAtEGIzING… mAnIPULATING… AND ACTUAL SELF-REFLECTION AnD SINCERiTY????
Cater got to shine SO much this update, especially in Ace’s dream. He really came off like a big brother figure to Ace. A little mean, but also able to be so very vulnerable with him. Him not wanting to give up on Ace even though he later says if he were Silver, he’d have given up on everyone a while ago… MAN. CaTER cARES SO muCHHHHHhhh 😭 This might actually bump him up a little in my tier list… I didn’t like him much before 💦
#twisted wonderland#twst#disney twisted wonderland#disney twst#Ace Trappola#question#notes from the writing raven#book 7 chapter 12 part 2 spoilers#Cater Diamond#Rook Hunt#Deuce Spade#book 7 spoilers#Tweels#Jade Leech#Floyd Leech#Leona Kingscholar#Riddle Rosehearts#Heartslabyul
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Getting deep into the aus in my head rn. Ok so you know that genre of arranged marriage webtoons/novels that's like, "the crazy princess is forced to marry the brave knight by the king, who wants to punish the knight for some reason" and then the princess turns out to either not be crazy or to be amping up the crazy on purpose, probably in order to survive some dark shit happening in the palace?
Ok so like. That. Now make it obkk.
(I'm tempted to say mdtb but obkk just fit better, I think. But also like, shit make it mdtb too, I love this trope)
Now here's the thing; I think there's a super fun argument to be made on both sides for who gets what role.
Crazy prince Obito could totally play into his Tobi persona, which would just be cool symmetry. But also knight Obito could be so cool, just objectively. And it could be interesting to play with a crazy prince Kakashi who like, saw his whole family murdered in front of him and then played up the crazy act to avoid becoming next on the chopping block.
Im going to settle with a prince Obito, so now please buckle up for todays au:
"Crazy" prince Obito who isn't quite as crazy as he seems being forcefully married to war hero general Kakashi of the Hatake dukedom in order to humiliate the Hatake's,,
(this one is nearly 4k words, so we're putting a cut on it)
SO! Starting from the top!
The Hatake dukedom is basically the only power to rival our beloved evil king Madara's throne. Other than them, Madara is pretty much untouchable, so his paranoid ass tries to keep a pretty firm eye and thumb on them. Gotta make sure they remember to stay the hell in line, you know?
So Kakashi is ordered to go to war pretty young, possibly in an attempt to get the young heir killed and cut off the Hatake's at the knees. Only for some years later, Kakashi to pretty much singlehandedly win that war and return this super big war hero. Which is a big problem for Madara, because now the Hatake's have even more political capital. And again, his paranoid ass does not like the possibility of there being someone to rival him in power.
As it is, there are only 3 (living, conscious) Uchiha left.
Madara, who is king.
Obito, a bastard nephew of Madara, who is absolutely fucking insane and only ever let out a tight leash when his insanity amuses Madara. He's only lived this long because his stupidity amuses Madara sometimes, and because he's very clearly no threat to him
And Sasuke, Madara's.... technical spare, who is only allowed to live because of his resemblance to Izuna.
(And somewhere deep in the castle, there sleeps on one Uchiha Izuna, trapped in some sort of coma Madara can not wake him from)
All the other Uchiha were killed (we will return to this) including Itachi and Shisui
(Incidentally, among Kakashi's loyal companions he collected during his years at war, there are two dark haired boys who are so careful to hide their faces when in public. I'm sure there's no relation there.)
So! Kakashi returns from war and Madara is like 'shit, I need to stop this train before it gets too far off the tracks' and invites Kakashi to the palace to "reward" him for his service.
Only when Kakashi gets there, the "reward" he's given is that Madara has arranged a spouse for him— his famously insane bastard nephew.
Getting into the politics of this: Giving him Obito humiliates him in public + gives him a ticking time bomb for a wife + reminds him of his place + gets rid of Obito too, who Madara is probably sick of seeing at this point.
Plus if we like, lean into period typical homophobia or whatever, Madara giving him a husband instead of a wife has implications too. Madara says you will NOT procreate, the Hatake house will NOT have a heir, and if they do then they'll automatically be a bastard who will never have a mother.
Take this crazy guy as ur wife lmao get fucked have fun <3
He's ending the Hatake's and Obito's bloodline in one move, 2 birds with one stone!! He's so smug about this solution he's worked out.
Kakashi, obviously yk, is super offended and panicked and also doesn't even want to get married, especially not to the goddamn famously insane prince, but he cant say no to the king! So he's kind of just forced to bow his head and grit his teeth and say thanks as Madara is all smug and happy on his throne saying some shit about he can't wait for the wedding.
So yk, Kakashi brings Obito home and it's this whole fucking spectacle because Obito is freaking the hell out and acting like a total lunatic
The whole rug pool is that Obito isn't nearly as insane as he's acting. To be clear, Obito does have just a whole list of mental issues, and is genuinely incredibly unstable— he's just also playing it way, way up in order to protect himself from being looked at too hard by Madara.
And obviously, yk, he's suddenly thrown at Kakashi with pretty much no warning for either of them, and he doesn't know who the fuck Kakashi is, other than his reputation for being at war for years now. So he's gonna really crank up the crazy factor because it's the only way he knows how to keep himself safe— at least until he's gotten a better handle of Kakashi what the hell he's all about
Anyways just, Kakashi and his crazy wife Obito,,
Kakashi ofc eventually sniffs out that Obito isn't nearly as insane as he's acting, and Obito is able to act a little more genuine to what he's really like.
Meanwhile we also get lots of Sakumo content, who is around btw and acting Duke Hatake. Also Rin is around, probably as Kakashi's second in command. We also get team ro, who Kakashi collected while he was at war and act as his lill team and trusted confidants
I want to see Obito and Sakumo in particular interacting tbh.
The differences between Madara as Obito's hella abusive shitty uncle who would purposefully provoke and feed into his fits, and his new so much kinder father in law who takes even his best attempts of causing a scene and making a fool of himself with a slow blink and a calm demeanor,,,,,, ough,,
Obito experiences fatherly love for the first time in his life and promptly has several crisis's about it
Now! Rewinding a bit to focus back on Madara / Uchiha situations ->
Madara doesn't really have an official heir. Or he does, but it's Izuna. Who, if you remember, is in that coma.
Madara is deep in denial about the fact that his brother is NOT going to wake up. Get over it Madara, it's been 10 fucking years !!!
Like I mentioned before, Sasuke only got to survive because he looks so much like Izuna. Madara probably straight up calls him Izuna and makes him dress and act like his younger brother sometimes when he's in his worst mental states (it flip flops a lot)
Sasuke can't be around Madara when he drinks bc Madara mistakes him for Izuna and starts alternatively yelling at him for daring to leave him and crying messily all over him
Sasuke is technically heir, but not really. Madara will only ever refer to him as the spare— because obviously, Izuna is going to wake up some day. Obviously. Any day now.
Now obviously, Sasuke already has a big brother! Which Madara does not like. How is he supposed to project all his issues onto Sasuke as a younger brother if Sasuke already has an elder brother?
So like, Madara gets rid of Itachi because he doesn't want Sasuke to have a big brother figure in his life other than him, bc yk, Sasuke is his Izuna shaped stress toy to cope with the loss of his own brother.
Madara sends Itachi to the front lines of the war at like 13 to have him killed. But then Kakashi saves him (team Ro noises,,)
Itachi quietly disappears from the playing field and is written off w the countless unnamed dead, and Madara is satisfied. Meanwhile, a masked assassin joins Kakashi's inner circle,,
(In the castle, in the middle of his grief, an 8 year old Sasuke is told he can address Madara as elder brother)
"How did Izuna even fall into that coma?", I hear you asking. Well!
I am now sliding to u a doctor/mage/saint Tobirama who is somehow the reason Izuna is in his coma (maybe on purpose, maybe by accident)
But Madara can't kill him bc hes like. The best doctor he has. And he needs him to keep Izuna alive in his coma.
"Damn, well how did Tobirama get to be working for Madara?" I now hear you asking
Well! x2, We will now rewind even further, to Madara's childhood ->
Starting it off with: is it even a naruto au without a dash of "childhood friends gone wrong?"
Basically, when Madara was a kid, he got to be close friends with Hashirama. Only for Hashirama to be unwittingly used as a tool by his father, for Butsama to try and overthrow the king of the time, Tajima.
A ploy that nearly worked, Butsama managing to kill Tajima + all of Madara and Izuna's other siblings + most of the other Uchiha right in front of the boys.
At the last second, Madara, with the help of the family's advisor, Zetsu, managed to kill Tajima and divert his plans. But now most of the Uchiha were dead and they had a crisis on their hands.
Madara is put on the throne at like, 13 years old, with only Zetsu to really rely on because everyone else is fucking dead, defected, or suspicious as hell. (Which is why, even decades later, he remains so consistently paranoid of anyone who might have the power to rival the throne; ie, the Hatake)
Anyways. Boy king Madara with his spooky advisor Zetsu at his side.
Zetsu is that trope of a a super obviously creepy and evil royal advisors, you guys know the trope. He is hunched behind Madara's throne whispering into his ear
"Kill them sire,,, they disrespect you,,,"
He like helped raise Madara when he was a young so Madara is DEEP in his pockets. After all, after the Uchiha were nearly overthrown, he was the only adult figure Madara had to depend on.
(To be clear, Madara himself is a shitty person. Zetsu is his own brand of spooky evil guy, and yeah he's a terrible influence on Madara, but Madara has made his own shitty evil choices in this too.)
After everything settled down, Madara had to decide what the hell to do with the remaining Senju— including Hashirama and Tobirama, who were also now among the only survivors of their clan.
Hashirama never meant to betray Madara, but he still did, and for that Madara can bear to look at him or he'll begin to feel sick.
Madara ends up being unable to kill his old best friend (even as Zetsu urges him to do it), and instead just sends him off to some temple deep on the edge of the kingdom, under heavy guard, basically banished from everywhere else in the kingdom. Hashirama goes quietly.
Tobirama, however, he keeps. Forced to serve in the palace as a sort of doctor.
Put him in some sort of magic collar that means he can't disobey a member of Uchiha royalty or smthn fun and fucked up like that, it could be fun. Collar that man !!!!!
Its enchanted w an order like, "you must follow every order given to you by the king" and then later down the line (when Madara is inevitably overthrown) Madara tries to order Tobirama to do smthn, Tobirama just looks at him coldly and goes "you are king no more."
I think whether Tobirama put Izuna in a coma or not would be left intentionally vague. We never know. Not even I know.
Maybe it was an accident, and Madara can only assume the worst because of who his father was and his clear hatred of the Uchiha.
Or maybe it was on purpose, his intrusive thoughts finally winning out. He certainly doesn't seem to have much sympathy or regret for the fact Izuna's been asleep for a decade now
Now, pointing back at Zetsu and Madara
Zetsu is sort of just a generic shadowy advisor for Madara in this. He's running the kingdom behind Madara's shoulder, he just kinda gets to do whatever and thrives bc of it. Zetsu living his best life!!!
Everyone is suffering in some way EXCEPT for Zetsu, who is having a wonderful time
So like. Madara seeming convinced he'll never die. Bc Zetsu has been whispering in his ear ab ideas of eternal life and necromancy, telling him he can rule forever and use this newfound power to wake Izuna. (Which is also ofc why he has no real heir and doesn't seem too worried about it)
(Meanwhile in the bg Tobirama is being used for his research. He's… happy about this, actually. He's thriving, just a little bit. Madara lets him play with dead bodies. And yeah, it sucks he has to obey the bastards commands, he's given p much unlimited funds and just kinda makes cool taboo shit as he researches immortality. He still bitches ab it tho.
Maybe in the end, he'll drag Madara out from the dungeons by the scruff like hes a wet cat and says smthn vague ab how hes going to be calling the shots from now on, and they disappear into the night)
So anyways. Inhuman somehow vaguely immortal Zetsu— who's been running out on his immortality juice.
Maybe we can play w Kaguya and the Hatake clans involvement? Zetsu gets his power from siphoning off of Kaguya, but the Hatake's of these past few generations have been worshipping her too, so she no longer has eyes only for Zetsu— meaning he no longer gets as much power from her.
Which is also why he's pushing Madara to hit the Hatake's w the ban hammer, because he wants them out of the way so Kaguya will look his way again.
(Or at the very least, Tobirama can hurry up and inventory human immortality already so Zetsu can try out a new method)
If you wanna get extra fucky with it, we can go with a 'son of Kaguya' Kakashi au, and throw in even more fucked up moon goddess family drama. Kakashi has no idea he's even related to the moon goddess, but Zetsu is losing his fucking mind because he's no longer his mothers number one special little boy anymore
What even is an obkk au without heaps of family drama in all directions?
Ok so, rewinding back to where we were, with newly wed Obito and Kakashi ->
So, Kakashi has been at war for some years now and has a lot of shit to do and catch up on now that he's back. Including catching back up with his dad, who he hasn't been able to see for any longer than a week tops in years. Very emotional! Very fun! Madara is a bastard for keeping them apart
But specifically tho. Kakashi helping Itachi to reunite with Sasuke.
I mentioned before that Kakashi collected team ro while he was out at war, and each of them probably has some sort of mini quest to fulfil,,
Senju bastard Tenzo who maybe grew up in the same church Hashirama was banished to, but was eventually sent away by Hashirama who couldn't bear to see him live the same isolated life as him (and maybe feared that Tenzo would be killed if Madara heard there was a new mokuton user)
Itachi and Shisui, Itachi being sent away to die and Shisui being an Uchiha bastard who either Madara thought he managed to kill (but escaped the massacre of his own remaining family Madara would eventually pull) or who got sent away with itachi to die at war. And just them wanting to reunite with Sasuke, their only remaining family left, who they worry for every day that he's left alone with Madara.
Im thinking tho. Sasuke eventually somehow escaping on his own (before team ro can even try to sae him) and managing to get to the Hatake dukedom,,,, Kakashi and Obito end up basically adopting him, pass it on
Super emotional Sasuke and Itachi reunion my beloved,,, I want Sakumo to try and dad them both, it'd be fun. Sakumo is just dad-ing everyone in this au, he's so father shaped
Sasuke spending so many years alone w only Madara as his family and maybe a weirdly fucked up and distant uncle-ish energy Tobirama who he regularly sees Madara going out of his way to make his life miserable.
But also like, obviously: Sakura and Naruto. I bet those two helped him escape tbh
Uhh knights in training Naruto and Sakura who are so determined to protect their prince Sasuke (even as Sasuke tells them he doesnt need his protection)
What if Sakura is training under Tobirama in place of Tsunade? Could be fun, idk.
Where is Tsunade in this, is she dead? Was she ever born? Did Madara steal her from Hashirama to make her work in the castle? Could be fun,, on that note too, Orochimaru might be somewhere around here, working with Tobirama to unlock immortality for Zetsu/Madara (*cough* himself *cough*)
Anyways, knights Sakura and Naruto who enter the palace so starry eyed for their beloved king Madara and prince Sasuke,,, only to slowly realize this is NOT the fluffy sparkly fairytale they thought this was going to be.
Im thinking narusasusaku energy where Sakura and Naruto are being silly and competing for their beloved, closed off ice prince's attention, alternating between fighting each other for Sasuke to look at them and teaming up to get rid of potential rivals
Meanwhile Sasuke is looking on at these fucking idiots blatant attempt to throw themselves at him in that way that only kids can, alternating between being annoyed and exasperated and trying to hide how amused he is. They are one of the only bright spots in his life ,,,
Madara doesn't even really have a reason to fuck Sasuke over w them tbh, honestly he might even encourage it just bc they're knights in training and he wants his spare to be well protected (against everyone but him lmao)
Madara is shitty but Sasuke is in this really weird position where he's probably the safest from him. Beccause, you know, Izuna. There's a lot of emotional abuse there and incredibly unhealthy dependency from Madara's end, projecting Izuna onto Sasuke. But for the most part, Madara dotes on him. Because, again, Izuna. Though there's also probably a certain amount of genuine fondness Madara has grown for him
He only really gets violent if it looks like someone will try and take Sasuke away from him (particularly in a familial way, which is what got Itachi (almost) killed)
Naruto and Sakura are deemed safe by Madara because they too are under his control, and every prince does need a good knight.
He might even think their not so well hidden crushes would be good for him, because that way he can count on them to ruin any of Sasuke's future romantic prospects for him. And if Sasuke ends up getting with his knights, he will never have a reason to leave the castle, even once he's an adult. A win win for Madara!
Madara approaching Sakura and Naruto both, telling them he thinks theyre just soooo good at being knights and, obviously you know, as their king he will hope they give him lots of updates about Sasuke.
Both Sakura and Naruto are super starry eyed and all for it at first, but Sakura quickly realizes that Madara is asking them to spy on Sasuke for him.
Sasuke himself is not surprised and probable expects it. This is what Madara has done with every single other person that he's ever looked at longer than 3 seconds.
There is a reason Sasuke has no friends, and it's not just because he doesn't want any. That one time when he was 9 and he told his playmate that he missed his big brother and hoped he would come back soon, only for Madara to later drag him out of bed in the middle of the night, scream at him and threaten to send him to die on the front lines with his brother if he really wanted to be with him so bad— well, that kind of gave him trust issues. Understandably.
Thinking also that over the years, while Kakashi was at war, Madara was keeping Sakumo from going to see his son by claiming he needed him close to the palace. So, like, Sakumo interacting with Sasuke on and off over the years,,, just this occasional figure of stability Sasuke is never supposed to talk to for too long,, this man he knows Madara is scared of, who feels so warm to him.
And Sakumo, missing Kakashi so much, interacting with Sasuke thinking about how 'my son was this small, when your uncle sent him to die' and nearly crying about it later.
Anyways just sasusakunaru,,, prince sasuke and his two knights who enter the castle at like 12, starry eyed and fulled of hope— but slowly becoming disillusioned as they realize what kind of life Sasuke is really living.
Them going from swearing to protect their prince with all the strength and surety of a couple of hopeful kids with big dreams— to really, genuinely meaning it, and eventually helping him escape from Madara's hands.
And then ofc them fleeing to the Hatake dukedom, where Sakumo and Kakashi give him sanctuary and he gets to see Itachi again. Who, by the way, he thought was dead and had NO idea was here. Yayy!
Anyways!
Endgame of Kakashi and Obito overthrowing Madara and tossing him into the dungeons. Tobirama ends up dragging Madara out of the dungeons and they disappear into the night together, never to be seen again. (with the implications of a sudden very sharp shift in power between them something to think about off screen)
Sasuke becomes king bc neither Kakashi or Obito wants the throne, and rules with his trusty knights (and partners) Naruto and Sakura.
Obito is happy being a trophy wife for Kakashi, this is actually his ideal ending (after the horror and stress of adjusting to this new unknown life)
Sakumo meanwhile gets to be godfather of the first sasusakunaru kids and swears to protect the Uchiha family for as long as he can
The end, or something
#yep ok au over the end thank u for reading#birds fic talk#obito uchiha#obkk#kkob#uchiha obito#kakashi hatake#hatake kakashi#tobirama senju#senju tobirama#mdtb#tbmd#madatobi#tobimada#sakumo hatake#hatake sakumo#team ro#itachi uchiha#uchiha itachi#naruto#naruto au#shisui uchiha#uchiha shisui#Sasuke uchiha#uchiha sasuke#team 7#sakura haruno#naruto uzumaki#uzumaki naruto#haruno sakura
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a dose of love and laughter — caleb
warnings — fluff, sick!reader, caleb taking care of you, angst (like really small part)
notes — a 360 from my previous fic im crying LMFAO \\ tags: @aomiiine
caleb loves doting on you.
no matter how many times you tell him you’re a grown woman who can take care of herself, caleb always finds a way to step in and handle things for you.
“caleb, i promise i can take care of myself while you’re at work,” you say, letting out a small cough. his hoodie keeps you warm against the cool breeze of the air conditioner. you came down with a cold last night, and caleb has been insistent on taking the day off just to look after you. “i don’t want you missing work because of me.”
“but princess…” caleb sighs. “i’m worried you’ll get worse if i’m not here. what will you do if your fever spikes, hm?” he gently brushes your hair back, his touch soft. “let me stay, okay? let me take care of you, just like i always did when we were kids.”
you can’t argue with that. having someone look after you, especially caleb, is comforting. he’s always been good at taking care of you when you’re sick.
his pleading gaze makes you give in. “okay, fine. but if any of your underlings blame me for their colonel being absent, i’m kicking your ass.”
“don’t worry, princess,” caleb chuckles. in one swift motion, he lifts you into a bridal carry, making you squeal in surprise. he sets you down gently on the couch and tucks a warm blanket around you. “you stay here, okay? i’ll go make some porridge.”
you nod and settle into the couch, your favorite tv show playing softly in the background. as much as you hate to admit it, having caleb take care of you brings back warm memories from your childhood. and his porridge is as delicious as you remember.
as you’re about to doze off, you hear caleb’s footsteps approaching. you squint, catching a glimpse of him.
“sleepy already, pipsqueak?” he says softly, setting a bowl of porridge on the table. “want to eat now?”
“only if you feed me,” you declare. caleb laughs, and you hide your smile under the blanket, trying to keep a stern look.
“okay, okay,” caleb agrees, amused. “what would you do without me?” he helps you sit up gently, leaning you against the cushions. taking a spoonful of porridge, he holds it up for you. you open your mouth and savor the warm flavor. “good?”
“mhm,” you hum, swallowing before giving him a smile. “it’s really good. just like i remember.”
“you remember?” caleb asks, sounding surprised.
“yeah, of course i do!” you exclaim, almost choking on the porridge in your excitement. caleb quickly hands you a cup of water. after taking a sip, you continue, “i tried recreating it when you were gone, but i could never get it right.”
caleb’s expression softens, a hint of sadness in his eyes. “really?” he glances down at the porridge, avoiding your gaze. “maybe i should make a recipe book for you. that way, you can make all of caleb’s specialties anytime.”
“hey,” you say gently, placing your hand under his chin to lift his face. “what’s wrong? why do you look so sad?”
he leans into your touch. “just… thinking about you being sick all alone, with no one to take care of you.”
you giggle softly. “why are you upset over that? you know i’m good at taking care of myself.”
“yeah?” caleb asks, a teasing glint in his eyes. “so, you don’t want me to feed you right now?”
“wha-” you quickly grab his hand, stopping him from leaving. “of course i want you to feed me! i’m sick, caleb! i can’t believe you’re joking with a sick person right now,” you say, feigning indignation to lighten the mood.
it works. caleb’s laughter is so genuine that it nearly brings tears to your eyes. you’ve missed his laugh, his smile — everything about him. even though it’s been weeks since you reunited, you still haven’t gotten over how much you missed him.
“you’re contradicting yourself, pipsqueak,” caleb teases. “so, can you take care of yourself or not?”
“hmm,” you pause, pretending to think. “i can take care of myself. but when you’re here, i’d rather have you take care of me.”
caleb blinks, then bursts into laughter again. “why are you laughing? i’m serious!” you protest.
“i know, i know,” he says, wiping a stray tear of laughter from his eye. he gently pats your head. “i’ll take care of you. i promise.”
#ᯓᡣ𐭩 yumei's writings#caleb#caleb x mc#caleb x you#caleb x reader#caleb x y/n#caleb fluff#caleb angst#love and deepspace#love and deepspace x y/n#love and deepspace x mc#love and deepspace x you#love and deepspace x reader#love and deepspace caleb#love and deepspace fluff#love and deepspace angst#lads#lads x y/n#lads x mc#lads x you#lads x reader#lads caleb#lads fluff#lads angst
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If you didn't stop gaining, what do you think your life would be like now?
Rn Ive totally reversed my pre-diabetes and Im out of the woods!! my blood pressure and all of the health concerns I had are diminishing substantially. Im about 265lbs ish.. I feel great. Now that being said I felt super confident at 330lbs. Because yall fueled my confidence. Buh every in real life are now my new hype gang. So its fun i mean Im get respect irl so it helps me mentally. I feel wonderful, my body feels amazing! That being said I do miss being super fat! I really do. The pain and fatness was apart of it all..
If i didn’t make changes I would have full blown type 2 and I would still be single because dating in the Fetish is futile. I would be 325-340lbs.. I would still be in debt because door dashing every meal is not economically sustainable… in addition to type 2 i would have extremely high blood pressure and my body would continue to start failing. The hard truth is you’re gonna become addicted to these billion dollar companies who have engineered food to be extremely addicting and then when your body starts to break down then they’re gonna feed you a bunch of pills and medication so that big Pharma can continue make money on the second half of your life. The unfortunate thing is that this is not a sustainable lifestyle unless you really really want it and you really really want to be a diehard. For me I just don’t wanna do that alone. What’s the point? Life meant to be be with a partner and friends.. 
All my friends are extremely fit, and I only have a couple of fat friends in real life so that being said it’s quite a lonely life outside of the fetish kink that I have ya know. So balance and being a “small fat” is easier and more economically viable and news flash you live longer.. what is the point in being a 450lbs person with no body to care for you? Yall sayin DO IT FOR YOURSELF.. yet non of you are here when I broke my couch and need to drop $3000 on a new one.😬😬😬 any ways thats how I know my life would look like.
#bhm#male feedee#bhm belly#ask jaba#weight gain#fat belly#belly kink#female feeder#make me fatter#fat
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LOVE SONG — THANOS (PLAYER 230)
◜ pairing ... thanos (choi su-bong) / player 230 x fem reader
◜ how does it feel, to be here? cold and lonely.
𔗨 author's note — yayyy a non smut fic from misa !!! noooo, it's angst:( this is short !! and ALSO THANK U SO MUCH FOR 1,015 FOLLOWERS ??? thats a lot lot and im vv thankful for each and every single one of you, ily [lowercase intended]
🧷 𝓜isa mentions — @joc3lynx @mymel1008 @justredsw @wlvlurvsfimmia @azansstuff @dvrk-hoon @yersang-dreams @keiradg01
— angst, comfort if you squint
hard rain drops echoed through the empty halls of your apartment, the smell of cigarettes lingering in the cold air, as you stood in the middle of the living room.
your eyes stare at the cardboard boxes in front of you for a moment, and then to the shattered empty vodka bottles on the wooden floor.
you looked completely disheveled—dark circles weighed heavily beneath your eyes, your hair completely untouched and unkept, and you wore nothing but an oversized white shirt and a pair of underwear.
disgusting. you reeked of alcohol and cigarettes. it's ironic how your achromatopsia—your complete color blindness—makes this experience even better.
your eyes dart to your phone laying on the floor as it starts suddenly ringing, su-bong's name flashing across the screen. are just imagining things or is it really him?
a smile forms on your dry, pale lips, the skin cracking but it did not bother you at the moment, as you approach the vibrating phone, absolutely not caring about how the shattered glass cut through your skin as you walked across it, blood seeping out of the cuts.
you immediately answered the call and brought the phone close to your ear
"su-bong? su-bong!" your heart skips a beat, "honey please come back! i know i promised that i won't ever drink anymore, but i missed you too much." your voice breaks,
"i- i don't even know where you are... please, su-bong, tell me, so i can find you! oh how i missed you so mu—"
"knock it off, crazy bitch!" a rough voice slices through, the man's voice filled with venom and disdain as he spats at the other end of the call. "do you know the trouble i went through just to get your fucking number?!"
the words hit you like a slap. you blink, disoriented, your chest tight with shock and confusion. his words echo in your mind as you struggle to comprehend. then— "i'm going to hunt you down and fucking gut you if you don't pay off your boyfriend's de—"
"fuck you! fuck you!" you scream, voice raw with anger. your hand shaking as you slam your thumb against the end call button.
the sound of the call disconnecting only amplifies the silence that follows. but it's not a silence of relief, it's worse.
your body trembles as the tears break free, rolling down your pale cheeks. you wipe at your face repeatedly but it doesn't result to any better, the tears keep coming.
you pulled your knees up to your chest, curling into yourself as you absentmindedly scrolled through your phone, your thumb brushing over the screen before clicking on something.
a hiccup escaped from your lips as you pressed the phone to your ear.
"senorita, are you crying again?" su-bong's voice cut through the silence as you kept quiet, your eyes empty as they stared away to the gray surroundings that felt like were closing in.
you finally heard his voice. you finally heard his voice.
"cmon, don't cry." his voice continued, "you know i don't like seeing my princess cry."
despite the warmth in his voice, the emptiness in your chest deepened.
"i miss you." you manage to force out, your voice barely above a whisper, the words feel heavy, like a weight pressing against your chest, but you let them escape anyway, desperate for him to hear them.
"awww, that's my girl! i knew you would cheer up with candy." his voice cooes, soft and comforting, but soon it fades as you slowly pull the phone away from your ear.
you stare at it blankly, the colors from the screen falling upon your eyes that couldn't see color, as your thumb hovers over the pause button of the recorded video.
in the video, su-bong's smile flashes on the screen, a moment frozen in time, his face filled with warmth as he engulfed you in a hug, laughing softly as you struggle to open the candy packaging.
the simple joy of the moment was captured and to be kept forever. the memory tugs at something deep inside you, but all you could see was gray.
your heart hammered inside your chest as the realization hits you like a bullet shot through your body.
su-bong is dead. su-bong is dead. stop being fucking delusional.
you force the words into your mind, repeating them over and over. you try to shake the lingering hope, but it was useless.
then, a small pool of blood slowly spread beneath your feet, its dark color stark against the ground.
you scoffed, finding the whole situation fucked and funny. but it was getting so damn overwhelming, you felt like a bomb, you could explode in any minute.
you couldn't tell what hurt more—the raw sting of your cut feet or the hollow, suffocating truth that the man you loved most was really gone.
the pain in the soles of your feet throbbed, but it paled in comparison to the ache spreading through your chest, a deep, gnawing emptiness that nothing could fill.
the absence of su-bong—the hole he left—feels like it's swallowing you whole. then another truth settles in; you're so fucked.
the debts he left behind? they're yours now. and somehow, you know it's never going to end.
@misayani
#squid game#squid game season 2#squid game x reader#choi su bong x reader#choi su-bong x reader#thanos x reader#୭ ୨♡୧ ৎ misa writes ...
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wifey here again with stepdad!Nik, so I think SD would insist on finishing college since she only has like a year left anyway and because she feels like she'll be able to get a job easier with a degree, she doesn't wanna be a burden. Nikolai ofc lets her finish college, it keeps her busy while at home, settling in nicely to their house. He takes care of her every need, and slowly starts to convince her that she doesn't owe him anything, she's his wife now, or soon to be at the very least. All she needs to do is stay home and worry about their little one. Anytime she has doubts about how much he wants her and wants to provide for her she gets reminded thoroughly. It's when SD's bump is getting noticeable that Nik really steps it up. "What if we both miss the important moments?" and SD eventually is like "yeah, okay, but if it ever becomes a burden I'll get a job" and Nik is real proud of himself. SD also becomes very needy, in just the way Nik loves, she wants to be with him as much as possible and needs help a lot because hormones are fucking with her. And she definitely thanks him plenty for his help whenever she can. Bonus NikPrice x SD reader John decides to visit Nik and his new bird since on their last mission Nikolai wouldn't shut up about her and he immediately gets why when he sees SD, she's so sweet and nurturing and she looks gorgeous all round with Nik's kid, stays a few nights and gets drunk one night and jokingly (sorta) tells Nik he'd love to put the next one in her and Nikolai just hums with a smile "why not?" and reader is suddenly being flirted with by her fiance/husband's friend. Is real worried about it cause she likes it and guility goes to Nik who is 1. Very pleased by her honesty and 2. reassures her and tells her that he's okay with it if she is. (Totally wasn't his plan to get his two favorite people together so he could have them both, nope, that's totally not why he raved about her to John and not one other soul. Mmhm)
Also im really sorry if once again this doesn't make sense, stress has got me by a chokehold lately and its making my brain bad lol
Ooooooh wifey you are killing me. Isn’t that the perfect solution, though? You’re so worried about being a burden, let’s bring in another source of income!!
You know. Maybe it’s kinda degrading. But I totally imagine Nik comes up with little tasks for her. Let’s be real, it’s so easy— he saw what her mother was like, he can see how starved she is for approval, it practically blinds her. Things like “I want us to get a new car with some more space before the baby comes— can you research what models are best for family? You have a better mind for things like that than me,” he says with an almost sheepish smile. You’re practically wagging your tail with excitement— and you just look so happy when you present all of your work and he seems so pleased with you.
Also, in a bit of darker move, I can imagine if you’re not as into John as all that— they come up with a story. They say that John wants to have a baby of his own, but he’s not married, and he wants to have a kid before he’s too old and his career gets in the way of romance. So he would love for you to be like a surrogate for him. You’ve done so well with this first pregnancy, and you’re still so young— plus! John would be willing to pay, so it’d be like you’ve got your own income to help out!
The only thing is that John believes in natural conception. And he wants to live with you both during the pregnancy to help out. And he doesn’t actually plan on leaving once you have his kid. And Nik knows how sensitive and caring you are— when you confess to him your doubts about giving the baby up for good once it’s born, he comforts you. Of course he’ll talk to John about it, milaya, he’s sure they can come to an agreement.
#wifey#idk if I’m tagging anything right I don’t remember what I did last time#writing#cod fanfic#john price x reader#John price#Nikolai#Nikolai cod#Nikolai x reader#stepdad!nik#Cw stepcest#Cw coercion#cw manipulative
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His wife
Summary: Its been almost ten years since everyone graduated, and they all decided to get back together and have a class reunion.
Warnings: fem reader, use of yn, izuku and reader have the cutest friendship, drinking
You and Katsuki met almost two years after he debuted as a pro hero, of course you knew who he was but that wasn’t why you fell in love with him.
Sure to the world he was snappy, slightly aggressive, but to you he was sweet, patient, and the most caring man in the world.
Now almost eight years later a ring was sitting on your left hand and he had your initials tattooed on his ring finger. Of course he’d rather wear a ring but his job prevented that so the only tattoo he’d ever get was your initials.
This past year your husband had been patrolling more than usual, wanting to work with Izuku every chance he could. Especially now that he had the new suit that Katsuki worked his ass off for.
You worked for Katsuki’s agency since he’d rather die than have you work for someone else, plus it gave him an excuse to see you more.
A couple weeks ago though he got a text from Izuku, talking about how their old class was having a get together for a ‘class reunion’. You remember how he scoffed as he retold the story to you. You smiled at him, nodding while you said “We should go! Plus i’ve been wanting to meet all your old friends!”
Who is Katsuki to say no to his wife?
Which is how he landed himself in this position, watching you hurriedly get ready even though his finished almost a hour ago. You were now finding the perfect jewelry pieces, he sighed as he got up from the couch and went to your shared bedroom.
“No one’s gonna be paying attention to your jewelry woman, we’re gonna be late and we still have to pick up Izuku.” You huffed, closing the clasp to your earring. Turning around to face him, “I’m done, do I look ok?”
His expression softened slightly, he could tell you were nervous. He walked towards your, placing his hands on your hips and pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head.
“Ya look good, cmon now.” You smiled up at him, placing a soft kiss to his lips before going to grab your purse and phone. He was waiting for you at the door, you smiled at him apologetically since you realized just how much time you actually took.
Twenty minutes later you and Katsuki were parked outside Izuku’s apartment, his car recently broke down since in your husband’s words was ‘a piece of fucking shit.’ You smiled whenever you saw him exiting the building, unlocking the door’s so he could get in.
Although Katsuki would never admit it he was happy you got along with Izuku so well, you two were the most important people in his lives just in different ways. At first he was a bit pissed off years ago whenever you two started becoming friends but the more he matured the more he realized it was a blessing.
Finally the back door opened and Izuku slid into the backseat, closing the door behind him. You turned to face him as he sat in the middle seat, buckling himself up. “Do you think they’ll like me?” Izuku could only smile, looking at the rearview mirror and making eye contact with Katsuki.
He looked back at you with a smile, “Im sure they will yn, there’s really no need to worry. If you’d like I can help and introduce you to Ochako.” You smiled, nodding “Oh yes, I see her on tv sometimes she���s gorgeous.” He nod’s along agreeing with you.
The car is filled with chatter from you and Izuku mostly, Katsuki butting in from time to time as he drives the three of you to the club Momo rented out.
Almost thirty minutes later the car was finally in park, Katsuki turned off the car and turned to you. “Stop being so nervous, everyone will like you.” You’ve already met Kirishima, Denki, Jirou, and Mina. You nodded along, “Ok let’s go.” You quickly got out the car and slid your purse onto your shoulder and making sure you had your phone.
Katsuki smirked knowing you were trying to get out the car so you didn’t chicken out. He and Izuku got out the car and you all walked inside, Katsuki stopped you while Izuku made his way to some people you’ve seen on Tv before. “You sure you’ll be ok? If you’d want to leave we can go.” All you could was nod, turning your head to face him.
“Yea I’m sure, I think i’m gonna go over there with Izuku for a bit. Just to meet some people I don’t already know.” He glanced over to where Izuku was, seeing him with Shoto, Uraraka, and Iida. He hummed, giving your hand a squeeze before you both parted way.
You walked over to Izuku who was standing near the bar with people you recognized, you tapped his arm as he turned to you with a smile. He placed his hand on your shoulder and turned to the small group, “This is yn, kacchan’s wife.” You waved to them, seeing how Uraraka immediately smiled at you.
She immediately smiled, sticking her hand out for you to shake. “Oh my Izuku’s told me about you, i’m so happy to finally get to meet you.” You could already feel yourself coming out of your shell as you shook her hand, glancing over at Izuku with a grateful smile. “It’s nice to meet you too, I would hope its only good things he’s saying.”
She gently pulled her hand away just as someone else talked, you immediately recognized him as Shoto Todoroki. If you were being honest you used to be a big fan of his, always enjoying watching his fights just to see how he used his quirk. “It’s nice to meet you yn, its nice to meet the women who somehow put’s up with Bakugo.”
You could hear Izuku stifle a laugh as you laughed yourself nodding your head, “Its nice to meet you too.”
Soon you comfortably conversed with the group, though the whole time you could practically feel Katsuki’s eyes on you. You knew he just wanted you to feel comfortable, you excuses yourself from the group and walked over to where he was.
He was sitting in a large booth with Kirishima and Mina, and Jirou and Denki. Seeing you walking over he placed his drink down and slid over making room for you, you smiled at him as you sat down.
The group said different greeting’s to you before falling back into the conversation. Though Katsuki’s focus was on you, placing his arm on the back of the booth to rest behind you. “Uraraka was so sweet, and Shoto was honestly really funny.” Katsuki grumbled at the compliment you gave Todoroki. He was aware of your past fangirling for the man and he would always tease you for it.
“Honestly, Im really glad we came.” He smiled at that, brushing his knuckles against your cheek. “Im glad you’re making more friends.” You smiled at him and moved closer towards him, his arm moved from the booth to over your shoulder’s. You both entered the conversation with the group.
As the night went on you had talked to most of the people in the room, besides a few. You and Uraraka had exchanged numbers with smiles on both of your faces as you two made plans. You ended up confessing to Todoroki about your past fan behavior for him, he laughed as you told him. He mentioned it to your husband later that night which caused him to get yelled at as you two laughed.
Finally you and him had just dropped off Izuku, you were driving since Katsuki had a few drinks. The car was quiet besides the air flowing throughout the car, Katsuki shifted around in his seat before speaking “Did you enjoy tonight?” Immediately you smiled again at the memories of the night “Yes I did, me and Uraraka exchanged numbers and we promised to meet up the next time she’s available.”
He stayed silent as he stared at you with a soft smile, he was happy you were making your own friends. He didn’t mind that all of your friends were his, but he was glad you were making your own. “I told you they’d like you.” You glanced over at him with a smile, finally pulling into your neighborhood.
“I guess you were right.” He hummed and the car fell silent again.
Once you two got home you and him got in the shower together, you helped him wash his hair like you do most nights and he helped you with yours. After you were both in pajamas, you and him crawled into bed with him on your chest.
home
#boku no hero academia#bnha#my hero academia#mha#bakugo katuski#bakugou katsuki#bakugo x you#bakugo x y/n#bakugo x reader
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MERCS WITH A FEVER BC IM DYING.
scout: it’s kinda heartbreaking. he won’t wake up on time, and when one of the team goes to figure out what’s wrong he’s hacking his lungs up, shivering in bed. he’s tried at least three times to actually get up, and he hasn’t succeeded at all. they tell him to take the day off, and he almost gets pissy. he insists he’s fine, and he’s good to fight; but as he struggles to his feet the body aches shock him back onto the bed. he’ll take the day off.
soldier: nobody will get near him if he’s feverish. he’s delusional, and increasingly aggressive. but he’ll take a moment to hide in an alley, wiping off the sweat from his brow and letting out a shaky breath. he’s getting through it, but he’s gonna pay for it later.
pyro: up all night, feet slamming against the floor as they trudge from the bathroom to their bedroom back to the bathroom. more prone to vomit when they’re feverish. eventually soldier or scout will walk them to the infirmary; knowing the doctor is probably up, and can care for pyro properly.
demo: he’s taking the day off. he doesn’t care if he’s at 99.1, that’s a fever and he’s taking the day off. truthfully he’s fine. he could probably fight and be fine. but guess where he is anyway. asleep in bed, that’s right. he’ll whine to the doctor about how he doesn’t feel good, he feels a chill, he’s sweating a lot, until a note gets written.
heavy: asleep. almost dead. you would be a little worried that he is actually dead until you approach him and you feel that he is overheating. and he groans. his eyes barely open, and his face is scrunched up in an attempt to not show that he is in pain. “i don’t feel good. get out.” continues to sleep until he feels marginally better. takes a couple days. pyro will drop off a stuffed animal, and if you go in there to check on him he’s clutching it like a lifeline. but his face doesn’t relax. even in sleep.
engineer: he’ll continue to work until he’s actively stumbling and shaking and rubbing his temples. then he’s gotta stop. medic is begging these men to take their physical health seriously. engie will ask why he won’t just heal them from a fever, and medic has to be the bearer of bad news that the medigun doesn’t work that way. come back when your guts are actively necrosing and then he might be able to heal the fever as well.
medic: nobody except heavy is brave enough to go into the infirmary if the doctor is sick. he’s kind of dramatic. the cold of the infirmary is not doing his any favors. he’ll sleep in his little closet bedroom, door closed, shaking and groaning. god, he’s so cold. he knows he isn’t, in fact he’s feverish and overheating, but he’s so cold. appreciates a little back rub. he’ll sleep a little better.
sniper: hides in his van and doesn’t come out. locks the doors. if one of the team goes to find what’s going on you can hear the wretching about twenty feet from the door. “go away.” is the only thing he’s able to groan out before you hear his head back in a bucket. poor guy.
spy: dead in his smoking room. like eyes open, staring at the ceiling. he’s breathing but very shallowly, the coughs hurt so much he doesn’t even want to move around too much in case he starts coughing again. he looks like he’s actively dying or dead. a hesitant “you good…?” gets a very weak thumbs up. he’s okay, just give him a day or so to recover.
#team fortress 2#team fortress two#tf2 sniper#tf2 medic#tf2 heavy#tf2 scout#tf2 soldier#tf2 spy#tf2 engineer#tf2 demo#tf2 pyro#tf2#tf2 demoman#i don’t feel good but let’s take our asses to work regardless#who requested the illness one#you got a part two#im dying frfr#thanks for appreciating my hcs if you got this far!
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" First Kiss " - caleb [ oneshot ]
→ SUMMARY: since you met caleb again in skyhaven many things had changed. why was your heart beating so fast whenever you were near him? why were your hands getting sweaty whenever he got closer? and why did it bother you so much that he never wanted to make the first move?
→ GENRE: fluff; awkward; innocent; shoujo like love.
→ RATING: 15+
→ NOTE: i started playing LADS last year in december while i was suffering a bad writing block. first i fell deeply in love with zayne but the moment caleb was released .. i resonated with him more? i love the childhood friends to lovers trope + the angst the both of them embodied. the losing and finding each other while still keeping secrets from another. i hope you enjoy it!
♡.°₊ˎ SONG FOR THIS ONESHOT
it was another normal day in skyhaven for you. caleb and you were fighting again, over the most dumb thing, like always. maybe that was a perk of being childhood friends for so long but it was really draining at the same time. you didnt even knew what triggered it this time. the only words which left your mouth were " maybe you shouldnt come with me to this mission." yeah, thinking back to those words, you needed to admit that it was dumb to speak them out loud. considering how caleb could be whenever it concerned your safety. another huff left his lips as he leaned against the kitchen counter, not understanding why you're not wanting him by your side. without him every mission posed as a threat to your safety in caleb's eyes and somehow it irritated you. why was he so overprotective of you and why did it bother you so much that he never spoke it out loud. is it so hard to tell you that he's worried about you?
"you act like a damn child caleb. i can take care of my own and you know that!" your voice was already strained from all the arguing as you looked over at him.
caleb wasnt facing you, instead he was staring at the kitchen counter as he clutched his hand against the smooth surface. you noticed early on that this was some kind of habit of him.
"i know that you can take care of yourself but thats not the issue here" "then what is the issue here? Caleb you never tell me whats wrong, im always .. left with some weird puzzle pieces whenever we fight"
another frustrated huff left his lips as you could see how his fingernails dig into the flesh of his palm. he would hurt himself like this again but at the same time you remembered that he really cant. thanks to that mechanical arm of his, he cant feel anything beside immense pain. so digging his nails inside his palm wont do much damage to his body.
"caleb please" another try to press him to be honest with you and still, he kept looking away from you. carefully you took a step towards him before he finally turned his head into your direction. that was the first time you could see the colour red creeping up his cheeks. was he that angry with you?
"what do you want to hear from me Y/N? Tell me? I already told you that i wont let you go alone there!" "but why not! you never give me a reason!"
frustrated you lifted your arms over your head before you turned around on your heel. before you could take one step forward, into the living room, someones arm wrapped around your waist; pushing you back. it didnt took you long until you realized that caleb stood right behind you, his broad chest pressing against your back. for a moment your breath hitched at the same time your heart nearly bursts inside your chest.
"what do you want to hear Y/N ... tell me" caleb's voice was low as he leaned down to whisper against your ear. his grip tightening more around your waist. making it impossible to escape. your body suddenly starts to mold perfectly against his own. its like the two of you were made for each other. "tell me" goosebumps appeared on your arms as calebs lips nearly brushed against your ear. your whole body freezed on the spot as his hand over from your waist to your stomach. what was happening right now?
"i- ... i just want that you are being honest with me.. you always tell me i shouldnt fight alone and that i should rely on you more but .. why? You know im strong .. " another strong tuck forced your back against his chest. you didnt knew that being this close would be even possible. carefully you put your hand on calebs arm, the arm which held you firm ... the same arm which cant feel any warmth anymore.
now you heard calebs breath hitch. what were you two doing here? once there was a time when the two of you got along well and rarely fought with each other. now the both of you sometimes didnt even knew how to behave around each other. one month ago you suddenly became hyper aware of caleb as a man. suddenly you didnt saw him as some kind of childhood friend anymore .. there was something more whenever you looked at him or stole glanzes while he was working. deep down you had hoped that caleb feels the same way but he still kept treating you like the little girl he once took care of.
as you were deep inside your thoughts, caleb spun you around so you were looking up at him now. his ears were red too now, it looked really adorable. there it was again, that look in his eyes you couldnt put a name on it. Caleb looked helpless as he just kept staring at you, his lips parting just slightly as he wanted to say something. you knew better, he was holding back. probably all the things he wanted to tell you or something else. slowly your hand reached out to touch his cheek. his skin felt hot underneath your fingertips as you slid down to his chin.
"caleb please .. we cant keep fighting like this .. tell me already why you're so scared to let me go alone" pleading was seen in your eyes and maybe thats the reason why he finally broke his silence.
for a short moment caleb closed his eyes as your fingertips still lingered on his chin.
"its hard to put all the things i feel into words .. I- i want you to rely on me more because if you doesnt .. i feel like you will let go of me and walk away ... at the same time i dont want to lock you up here ... knowing damn well you are your own person. dont look at me like that Y/N ... i know you are strong and probably dont need me for anything but .. whenever i think about it .. you not needing me it feels like .. a knife pierces through my heart and i- "
before he could continue with his rambling you put a finger against his lips. all those words were enough for you. he literally opened his heart for you even if it was just a tiny little bit. caleb needed you, he was scared of losing you .. so it was fine to hope right?
biting down on your lip you put both hands against his cheeks. the confused look in his eyes was something you learned to adore. caleb always looked so cute whenever he didnt knew what you were up to now. slowly you got on your tip toes just to be a bit closer to him. your noses nearly touched as caleb took another shaky breath but he didnt dared to speak. if he was too scared to take the next step in your relationship you would do it. even if your heart is nearly bursting at the moment.
another hitched breath as your lips finally got in contact with his own, from that moment on everything was just a blurr. calebs arms wrapped tightly around your body as he captured your lips in a desperate manner. it felt like he was starving all those years and finally got to eat something again. from time to time he broke the kiss for a short moment, just to look at you with those eyes. eyes which were full of yearning, yes yearning. all those years he had looked at you like this and you never noticed it before. the world around you two didnt mattered anymore as caleb, once more, pressed his lips against yours. his own breathing was shaky as his body forced you near the sofa. even if you were stumbling a bit his strong arms were ready to catch you.
the moment the back of your knees touched the sofa, your butt fell onto the soft fabric. this time you got a better look at calebs face as he was hovering over you. one of his arms was placed beside your head against the sofa, so he wouldnt crash on top of you.
"who thought .. you could be this bold y/n .. "
a smirk formed on your face as you wrapped both arms around his neck, pulling him closer again "well ... you took too long caleb. a hunter wont wait forever for its prey."
the last thing you saw was a smiling caleb before he dived back in to capture your lips. this time in a much softer and tender kiss.
#caleb#love and deepspace#lnds caleb#lads caleb#love and deepspace drabbles#love and deepspace caleb#love and deepspace headcanons#love and deepspace fic#love and deepspace x reader#caleb x mc#caleb x you#caleb x reader#caleb x y/n#lads#lads x reader#lads x you#lads fic#lads smut#l&ds caleb#l&ds fic
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MY GENIUS LILIIII OH GOSHHH THIS FIC WAS AMAZINGGG 😖😖 !! i wrote this reblog with fuzzy feeling by grentperez on loop so.. i was double feeling the lovesick energy over here <3 i haven’t read a long fic in a hot minute so this was a great way to get back into it AAAA
and because her writing is soso awesome, i NEEDDD to talk about parts of the fic ( i have a lot of ss…. i was hooked okay… ) SO SPOILERS AHEAD, PLEASE READ MY GIRL’S FIC FIRST — IT’S WORTH READING <3
okay this was absolutely CRAZY. MARBLES. “you’ll have to let me kiss you anytime” OKAYYYYYYYY HAN DONGMIN I SEE YOU. YOU SMOOTHHH FREAKER . even had y/n in shock unable to refute his points like…. oh he knew what he was doing.
he was already having me freaked out at the beginning like why is he fine already… it’s the lili effect help….
THE NECKLACE PART HAD ME GIGGLING!!! lili had graced me with a spoiler of her fic THAT HAD ME EXCITEDDDD so when i located it in the fic and the way she brought up the necklace again AJAKKA IM GIGGLINGGG AGAINNNN AS I TYPE THIS OMGOGM
and not him knowing y/n’s favorite things… guys… GUYS…. choco pie is so bomb guys LILI KNOWS WHATS UPPPPPP AND ANTON PASSING IT??? Like ouhhh taesan URE CRAZYYYY FOR THISSSS ( hot . )
TAESAN COMING TO THE RESCUEEEE ugh i just love how their rivalry relationship is still like present??? like yes call him stupid ( he’s going to be your stupid boyfie ) BECAUSEEE like lili acc incorporated it so well that whenever taesan came back in the picture, it just like… so what are we 😜 like guys… this made me realize why i’m LOWK a sucker for fake dating trope…
IS THIS A LEGALLY BLOND REFERENCE 🤞🤞🤞🤞 ( i never watched it… should i…. )
DENIAL DENIAL DENIALLLLL had my girl doubting everything when she’s there wearing his jersey… this is so real though i’d force myself into thinking its all pretend because… THATS LIKE THE ONLY THOUGHT ID HAVE SO I GET HER 😣
DARLIGNGGGGG GKILL MEEEEEE LILI WAS SICK FOR THAT OFHTMFKOFVK . YEAH THAT HEART BETTER BE BEATING CAUSE MINES WAS . envisioning taesan going up to her w a big grin on his face AND A HUG AT RHAT… bro i’d hit the floor before we could even lock eyes again r u kidding….
WE LOVE WHEN READER STANDS UP FOR HERSELF 🙌🙌 like yes know your worth bae !!! CUT THAT MF OFFFFFFFFF
B B B B B BOYYYYY DONT PLAY W ME RNNNNN ik he was giggling in his head about calling y/n his girlfriend…. trying to keep it smooth while inside he’s geeking and is like… “that’s my girlfriend 😍😍😍😍” (completely disregarding its fake dating and savoring the moment) BUT AAA THAT WAS CUTE SKKSKSS Yes take my hand.
HAD ME GAGGEDDDDD. THE WAY MY SMILE GREW WIDER WHEN TAESAN REPLIED TO WHAT HE SAID LIKE GOODNESSS TAESAN PLEASEEEEEE . this is becoming too much to handle Bue lili how did you survive writing this .
okay now i’m going to reach the pic limit on moblie so im going to stop with the pics here… MY COMMENTARY DOESNT END HERE!!!!
CONTINUING.
when taesan stepped in whenever anton had his hands on reader… 😍 like yes protective man GO GET YOUR GFFFFFFF . “don’t touch her” okay so stomach flipped over 360 and then did some breakdancing before it went back to its normal state.
hes literally so caring like . like ure giving me snacks ur jersey ur scarf and now a warm drink and heat pack …? What else does this man unable to give her . he’d literally give the whole world . this only solidifies my love for this even more bc
GUYS IM ACC A SUCKER FOR ONE SIDED RIVALS…. so when taesan was the one who really didn’t hate y/n I FREAKING CHEERED???? i lablhablahalahaj that. “how he cant stop himself from falling in love with you” PACK IT UPPPP TAESANNNNNOMG HES SUCH A LOVESICK FOOL . the way he describes the way y/n makes him feel its just like. Chefs kiss Quite literally.
like the way it gets harder for taesan to hold everything in and then y/n slowly BUT SURELY feeling the same way is just so UGHHHHHH “what if… i told you im not too sure i can pretend much longer?” TAESAN SHUTUOPPSUIDUROSIDODKD boy he shouldve just confessed there but lili is like poor edger lord over here and gave us the awk BUT CUTE FEELINGS THAT COME AFTER SAYING THATA AJSJJSJS I labh that.
like yes i need them two completely clueless about what to do next even though the feeling inside them is GNAWING them inside…. and lili delivered on that.
AND THE WAY ANTON KEPT APPEARING LIKE OMG???? BAE ILY BUT U WERE ON IT IN THIS FIC 😕😕😕. LET HER GOOOO GEEZ HES SO PERSISTENT. and the way taesan came to rescue her again ( need a taesan ) AND THE WAY HE HELD HIMSELF BACK PLEASEESTOPPPPPP THAT WAS EVILLLL OMG . MR FLIRT OVER HERE PLEASE SPIT IT OUT 🫵🫵🫵
as much as i did not like anton in this fic, i’d say he hsd a contribution of getting these baes together and y/n to finally REALIZE REALIZE SHES FALLINGGGG . like the way she slowly starts off noticing things about him to finally BOOM recognizing it all and piecing it together… LIKE I CHEERED ACTUALLY WHEN I SAW “You like him. You like Han Taesan” LIKE YES YOU DOOOO BAEEE 😭😭😭😭😭
and ANSNDN THEY FINALLY TELL EACH OTHER LIKE UESSSSS YESSSSSS PLEASEEE THIS WAS WHAT I WAS CRAVING FORRRRRRR .
oh gosh the part when yunjin says are theg dating and y/n says “no” while taesan says “yes” LIKE UGHHHH IK HE WANTED TO SAY RHAT SO BADLYYTT LIKE FRFR CONFIRM IT. i just love how their teasing aspects of the relationship overall was still there .
LIKE THEY ACTUALLY ARE BOYFIE GIRLFIE!!!!! like ohhh u thought i was done w giving ss ?? NOPE. SAVING BEST FOR LAST .
THE WAY HE WANTED TO HEAR IT AGAIN AGAIAJSNN AND THEN SAID IT HMSELF / AGREED TO IT. OHHH THIS IS SUCH A WINNNN. THEY LOVE ESCH OTHER!!!!!!!!!
and then taesan adjusting the H.D. pendant for her IH MY GOSHHHH YES LLEASE . its so subtle but reading that had me like wanting to take actual laps . A marathon even . AND THENNN THE WAY HE WAS complimenting her sayinf she looks good everyday like PLUEHAHS .
and the way he remembers like sm about her…. like wdym u still rmbr that 🤭 hes so sweet this is sickening . LIKE HE EVEN REMEMBERED THAT WISH LIKE OKAYYY bro was plotting since the get go.
WHEN THEY FREKAING KISSED OH HMKGODDDDDD a string of curse words flew out of my mouth that i will not be typing here . KIKE YESYEYSYSYS I WAS WAIITNGGFF AND RHATS LIKE SUCH A CUTE WAY TO BRING RHAT UP??? like okay taesan rizzler over here …
the way he wants that as his wish like please thats ur GIRLFRIEND !!! he’s so down bad like sir we see that blush even if u try to play it off . ITS SUCH A NEEDSDDD
WISH GRANTEDDDDD . THAT WAS RHE BEST ENDING I COULDVE EVER GOTTEN MY HEARY IS CONTENT . my heart is filled with taeyn moments i love it so much. lili granted My wish for providing such an amazing fic for us like GOODNESSSS this will be my bedtime story for the time being.
THE END OF MY SUPER LONG REBLOG!! ♡ i feel bad for my girl lili…. but this truly was wonders 😵💫 !!! I AWAIT FOR THE NEXT ONE HEHE ><
ᅠ ✿ ᅠ NOT THAT I CARE OR ANYTHING ──── ᅠ ( han taesan )
𝓹recis ⠀ : ⠀your ex, seemingly sweet anton, spreads malicious rumours about you that could potentially ruin your entire academic weapon career, so you have to take desperate measures𑁋and that includes a fake-dating contract and the bane of your existence, han taesan.
ᅠ 한태산 ⠀⠀◜◡◝ ⠀⠀𝒇 reader ⠀wc 13k ⠀ genre college au fluff angst if you squint one sided rivals to lovers academic weapon x campus crush ⠀ contains mentions of food vulgar words skinship pet names ⠀ note i’m sorry if this fic is.. all over the place a bit coz,, yea!! but this fic is highly.. self-indulgent.. heheh! and i originally wanted to make this more angsty but i’m already sad and single so, No! anyways, enjoy reading ^_^ ⠀ tagging @a-dream-bookmark ,@/k-labels , @k-nets , @k-films , @sgz-net
ᅠ >︿ please leave feedbacks & reblog
“ALRIGHT. Let’s do it.”
As you gaze into Taesan’s determined eyes, the entire series of events flashes through your mind.
It was back in your first year of university—early winter, the day of the first snowfall. You were walking towards the three-floor library, the cold wind stinging your eyes. You rushed inside, grateful for the gush of artificial warm air that greeted you as soon as the doors closed behind you. The library was quite packed for some reason, and you could barely spot any empty seats.
You walked towards the edge of the library, a corner with the largest window of the level. There it was—one of the only empty seats in the entire library—but that seat was next to a boy, heavily occupied with his studies. Your pace slowed down as you hesitated. The boy had a focused blank look on his face, his headphones on, and several papers and notebooks were scattered on the table around him.
You felt like you wanted to just leave and go back to your room, but remembering how cold it was outside, you decided against it.
After taking a deep breath, you approached him. With a shaky smile, you tapped the boy’s shoulder, muttering a silent prayer.
“Excuse me,” you said as he lowered his headphones to his neck. “May I sit here? I-I mean, if it’s cool with you..”
He simply nodded. “Sure.”
You had sat down next to the mysterious boy for the entire day, not knowing that, in the present, he would be the bane of your existence.
In this moment, you’re brought back to the present, startled at how you’re standing in front of him. The mysterious boy that you had sat next to turned out to be Han “Taesan” Dongmin—KOZ School of Law’s campus crush. There’s almost nothing “bad” that you’re heard of him, yet, when you find yourself walking towards him with a fiery determination in your eyes—you immediately know that you’re about to get hit with something you’d never expect.
“A-are you sure?” you say, surprised to even find yourself stuttering. You’ve held yourself to such a high reputation—being your school’s academic weapon—you’ve worked hard to keep yourself true to that name.
Well, to be fair, you didn’t expect Taesan to even say yes to your ridiculous plan—given that all that’s he’s ever done for you is say everything that will get on your nerves.
Taesan gives you a smirk. “Of course,” he says, clearing his throat. “Being the boyfriend of KOZ Academy’s academic weapon isn’t something you get to do everyday.”
The way he presses the emphasis on the word ‘boyfriend’ makes you flinch. It reminds you of your stupid plan; who in their right mind would offer Han Taesan—your rival—a fake dating deal just to make rumours about themselves go away?
“Right,” you roll your eyes. “Anyway, I think we need to enforce some guidelines and boundaries regarding this… set-up.”
Taesan shoves his hands into his pockets, shifting his weight to let himself stand more comfortably. The smirk still on his face, he replies, “alright. Hit me with all of ‘em.”
You whip your phone out, quickly showing him a document that you spent an entire night typing out—complete with every single thing he needed to do for you.
“Here,” you say, frustrated at how Taesan’s smug smirk just never falters.
Taesan runs a hand through his hair before leaning down to read through the document displayed on your phone. He finishes reading it quickly, taking a step closer to you after. He doesn’t say anything for a while, only to startle you by abruptly saying, “I agree.”
“What–?” you blurt out, surprised once again. You thought that Taesan would be more picky than–
“Your terms are easy for me to do. However,” you narrow your eyes at the boy who’s towering in front of you. Of course he’s picky—he’s Taesan. “I’d like you to agree to my conditions as well. If I have to do some things for you, you’d have to do some things for me too.”
You sigh before nodding. How hard could it be? Besides, this whole ‘relationship’ you’re having with Taesan is merely a fake dating set-up.
“Okay.”
Taesan whips out a full-blown smug smirk, making you roll your eyes. He pushes his glasses up his nose bridge, holding out two fingers.
“First, you have to also put in the effort to make things real. Like, wearing my jersey when I have basketball games, and wearing my initials ‘round your neck,” he pushes his middle finger down, the smug grin still plastered on his face, “and secondly, you’ll have to let me kiss you anytime.”
The moment the word ‘kiss’ escapes his mouth, you choke on thin air.
Why is my plan backfiring on me?
“What? No–”
Taesan shrugs. “Basically, physical contact is allowed to be done anytime.”
You feel your face flush, immediately recalling the third condition that you showed Taesan. No physical affection unless needed.
“I’m afraid I can’t do that—it’s clashing with my third term.”
“But your first term: ‘the other party must always do his utmost best to make the relationship seem real’ exists, am I right?” Taesan objects relaxedly. “Then, my second term doesn’t clash with that. And I also do believe that that first term of yours comes before the rest. Am I right?”
You grit your teeth, sucking in a sharp breath. How could you forget? Taesan will always work to have the last word—be that in court or in conversations.
Plus, he’s not entirely wrong.
Though, you’ve never been someone who lets Taesan win willingly.
“Whatever,” you roll your eyes, your heart twisting in detest at the way Taesan’s face lights up with a smirk again.
“Then, we have a deal?” Taesan asks.
You stare into his dark brown eyes once again, registering what you’re about to commit yourself to. All just to get rid of your ex and the rumour he’s pulled you into.
You hold out your hand, Taesan gladly reciprocating.
“Deal.”
˚ ▒ ₊ㅤ Ⳋ᧙ ⁺
IT didn’t hit you that you’re officially Han Taesan’s girlfriend that night. However, the next morning, right after the two of you signed the document at the coffee shop you always study at—it hit you like a million bricks from the sky.
You’re in a “relationship” with the person you loathed the most for the past year. The exact same man who everyone adores, who’s called the it-boy, the campus crush—is now your most “beloved”. Freshman you would rather jump off a cliff than to offer her nemesis a fake-dating pact.
Desperate times call for desperate measures. I guess.
“Here,” Taesan hands you a velvet box—one that obviously contains jewellery of some sort.
Of course. Han Taesan’s always prepared.
You let out a deep sigh, knowing what’s inside. Despite that, you ask, “what’s this?”
Taesan gives you a grin, one that you always see him don during the countable times that he beats you in quizzes. “Open it—I’m sure you’ll like it.”
You run your fingers around the edges of the velvety box, sceptical at Taesan’s sudden soft tone. “Don’t talk to me like that,” you mutter, loud enough for him to hear.
Taesan, instead of immediately throwing a scoff in your face, simply leans back into his seat with a chuckle.
Not waiting for whatever reply he’s preparing to throw to you, you open the box. Your eyes lay upon a beautiful, dainty necklace with a “H.D” pendant, nested elegantly in the box. You bite back a gasp, though you’re unable to hide your surprise. The silver necklace is one of the most beautiful pieces of jewellery you’ve yet to lay your eyes upon—it’s dainty and simple, yet it screams elegance in the best way possible.
You look up at Taesan, obviously bug-eyed. “What- I’m- thank you?”
Taesan throws his head back, laughing. He perches an eyebrow up, clearly amused. “What am I supposed to answer? ‘You’re welcome’?”
Oh. It’s part of his terms.
You glare at him.
Not missing a beat, Taesan says with a big grin on his face, “what is your lazy ass waiting for? Put it on—or do you need me to help with that?”
You massage your temples, tempted to stick your tongue out at him, hissing the obvious at him—that you do not want to wear his initials around your neck.
“I don’t need your help,” you say between gritted teeth, harshly yanking the necklace from the box. You swiftly clasp the necklace around your neck, secretly surprised that you’re able to do so.
Maintaining a glare, you retort, “I’m only wearing this stupid necklace because it’s part of your terms.”
You throw your gaze elsewhere, Taesan laughing his stomach out in the background. Why is he finding your irritated state so funny?
The pendant feels cold against your skin, sending tingles. You gulp, feeling odd. You hadn’t announced your ‘relationship’ to your friends yet—but seeing you with Taesan’s initials could certainly start rumours.
A part of you is jumping with triumph—your plan is starting to set its course, while another part of you is afraid of it all. What if you’re finally not good at something, no matter how much you try—pretending you’re in love with your rival, the bane of your existence?
“We’ll start slow,” you hear Taesan say, pulling you back into reality. You quickly morph into your stoic expression—one that you find yourself often putting up around people. “Like everyone else does. Soft launch.”
“Ah,” you manage, nodding. “Sounds good.”
“Even though that necklace certainly is a big jump for a soft launch,” Taesan voices, chuckling. His words cause you to narrow your eyes at him, hyper aware of the cold metal against your skin—a mark that Taesan managed to place on you.
It’s all fake, you chant to yourself. Once Anton gets the message, it’ll all be over.
˚ ▒ ₊ㅤ Ⳋ᧙ ⁺
THE past few weeks had been a blur. Nothing was out of the ordinary—you attended classes, performed mootings and sent in assignments like usual. Though, only one thing that was out of the routine.
Taesan no longer felt like a thorn to your side.
You still hate him—you despise the way he carries himself, so proud and confident. You wish you could punch his face for the way he’s so smooth with his words, the way that his charm works on everyone so well. You absolutely hate the way a handsome idiot like him had the potential to beat you in every single subject if you slacked for even a minute.
Yet, to the public, he’s your boyfriend.
A cliche: rivals to lovers, they say.
Despite being the one proposing the whole fake dating plan, you had been the one following Taesan’s itinerary so far. The two of you had finally exchanged phone numbers, and at night, Taesan would always send a list of ideas on how to make the soft launch more obvious day by day.
The first week, you found yourself wearing tops that highlighted the H.D pendant, styling your hair to make it more noticeable—you even went as far as attending Taesan’s birthday celebration to top the chances of people noticing the pendant. And Taesan didn’t inform you of this one, but you often found him telling his friends, yours, or random coursemates to pass you drinks and snacks. You had no idea how Taesan had gotten the list of all your favourite things to munch on, but you secretly did enjoy the free flow of snacks. Anton had passed you a snack from Taesan too—five packs of your favourite Choco Pie. You couldn’t forget the bewildered face Anton had as he passed them to you, eyes filled with question and a hint of jealousy.
“What’s up with Han?” he asked.
You shoved the Choco Pies into your shoulder bag, biting back a smile. Who wouldn’t be jolly after getting five of their favourite tidbits?
“How would I know?” you replied bitterly. You quickly turn away from Anton, the uncomfortable feeling of being around him overpowering the bubbly feeling you had from getting snacks.
“Well, those Choco Pies are from him,” Anton repeated for the second time. “And I don’t recall him being anything but hostile to you.”
You suppress a scoff. “Maybe he’s had a change of heart? His brain is probably tired of coming up with things to try and outsmart me,” you muttered. As if.
“Well, if anything—if that asshole tries to do anything to you, I’ll… be here for you, Y/N,” Anton said, taking a step closer. Your eyes widened and your jaw clenched. You quickly finished packing your bag up, swinging it over your shoulders.
You said that last time, too.
“Don’t talk to me, Anton,” you responded as monotony as possible before running out of the lecture hall, not giving Anton even a glance.
The following weeks, Taesan was hanging out with you even more than the previous week. He wasn’t being too obvious, but to you, him walking slightly behind you and not throwing a loud sarcastic remark was already an apparent sign that would show everyone that your dynamics had changed.
Anton had found yet another chance to corner you after a Public International Law lecture. You stayed back in the hall to reread your theoretical essay before sending it in. Behind you, Taesan was packing up his things, busy scrolling through something in his phone.
“Hi, Y/N,” you froze when Anton’s voice reached your ear drums.
You look up at him with a glare. “What do you want?”
Anton flashed his usual pitiful, soft smile. “Nothing. Just a meal with you—this week has been quite stressful for you, right? I heard that last Monday’s mooting was rough.”
“You’re not even a law student, Anton,” you seethed. The KOZ School of Business student ID card hanging on Anton’s neck looked extremely out of place amongst the ocean of law students. “Please kindly get lost, go back to the Business building.”
“My course mates are boring. Besides, you’re more fun to be around,” Anton replied. “I know we… haven’t been on good terms, but give me a chance to fix it all?”
You gritted your teeth, your hands beginning to shake.
The audacity of this boy… where is my stupid fake boyfriend when I need him–?
“I think she clearly said for you to get lost, bud.”
You fought back a grin. Finally.
“Han?” Anton tilted his head. “Wait– who are you to tell me that?”
Taesan stood next to you, his backpack dangling from one shoulder. His height towered significantly above you, making you standing right below his shoulders—enough to match Anton. “Who do you think I am?”
Anton’s eyes darted towards the pendant on your décolletage, his eyes bulging. “What the…” you heard him mutter under his breath.
Taesan seemed to notice this too, and he swiftly pulled you close, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. “So, get it now? Get lost, Lee, and give your ex some space. An ex is an ex for a reason.”
Anton then left with a fuming expression, leaving you in fits of relieved laughter after. You thanked Taesan, who simply responded with a polite smile.
“By the end of this, don’t forget the wish, yeah?” he said, before walking out of the lecture hall.
You stood there, blinking profusely. You had completely forgotten the last clause of your agreement with Taesan—once you were satisfied with his service, you had to grant him one wish. Anything that he wanted.
You face palmed yourself. Why didn’t you think twice before typing that down? You mentally made a note to yourself to prepare your wallet for the outrageous request that the thorn in your side would make later on.
˚ ▒ ₊ㅤ Ⳋ᧙ ⁺
“ARE you and Taesan dating?”
Sophia’s question makes you almost spit your lunch through your nose.
“What?”
“Girl, don’t you dare pretend not,” Yunjin interrupts, pointing her spoon at you. “You literally have his initials as a necklace that you never take off! H.D., which means Han Dongmin, right? Isn’t that his real name?”
“It’s not like–”
“No, no. It’s so obvious! Taesan’s around you more now, and he even gave you a birthday present!”
Sophia smiles, “he looks at you so differently now!”
Yunjin laughs, nodding. “Yeah, yeah, that too, I guess,” she then looks at you, directly in the eyes, “I guess Han Taesan and Y/N L/N have finally begun their lovers era, huh?”
You feel your cheeks warming up, and guilt fills your chest. You draw a sharp inhale before telling the girls the full story. And subconsciously, your fingers find the pendant, playing with it.
“It’s fake,” you sigh, “I mean, not the necklace—he’s just pretending. I’m pretending, too. None of this is… real.”
Sophia gasps and Yunjin frowns.
“Are you… sure? What for?” Sophia asks.
Yunjin nods in agreement. “I’ve always thought that dude had feelings for you, but I… I didn’t realise it’s actually wrong and my deductions were totally off.”
You scoff, though Yunjin’s words left you wondering. “Taesan doesn’t like me—have you girls seen how he treats me?”
“He treats you well,” Yunjin states plainly, shoving a spoonful of rice into her mouth.
“No,” you immediately shake your head, “he hates seeing me happy! He always finds a way to stick his annoying nose into my life, mocking me. He’s like always, always there to only laugh at my face.”
“Then why did he agree?” Sophia asks.
“To what?”
“To fake date you,” she continues, taking a sip of her yakult. “Well, I’m sure you have a plan—a contract and all—don’t you?”
Your eyes widen. How do these two girls know you so well?
“Yeah. I do. I’m doing all this because of Anton,” the look on your friends’ faces makes you feel a little relieved, “I need him to shut up about me.”
You recall the ridiculous rumour you’ve heard about you from Yunjin, that’s been going around like crazy—the rumour that you used to date Anton because he’s rich and that you used him as a bribe to get outstanding grades. Those close to you knew that is and would never become true—yet people are always jealous of others who have certain things better than them.
It may seem like a small matter to some, but to you, it’s a matter of reputation. Your whole image and potentially, your graduation is at risk. What if the rumour reaches some professor and they report you? You couldn’t risk the huge amount of money and time you spent, only to be scrapped off the dean’s list due to some rumour.
Yunjin herself had recorded proof of Anton trying to turn her against you, using that rumour. If she hadn’t shown you the recording, you wouldn’t have believed that sweet, kind Anton was the one who spread those malicious whispers about you.
Now, you’ve got to end it all. One way or another.
You continue finishing your lunch, Taesan somehow in mind. By the end of your lunch, you’re convinced that this is truly all an act—it’s nothing real, and in the end, you’re both just people who hate each other and use each other for selfish, personal reasons.
˚ ▒ ₊ㅤ Ⳋ᧙ ⁺
“DO I really have to wear your ugly varsity jacket?” Dongmin hears you grunt through the call. He stifles a laugh, tossing a ball up and down.
“Obviously, you dimwit,” he replies, “you’re my girlfriend, aren’t you?”
Dongmin lets himself smile. The word rolls off his tongue like a simple melody—it feels natural for him to say. He finds it odd, yet entertaining—your reaction is worth it all. Besides, it’s quite refreshing to take a break from hating you, sometimes.
“Besides, your ex is going to be there,” Dongmin reminds, his voice more throaty than expected. “He’s on the team as well, remember?”
“Yeah,” he catches your quiet answer.
“Anyway, how do you even have time for all this?” you question from the other end of the line.
“Hmm,” Dongmin hums, “I do have time.”
“Don’t fucking lie to me,” you hiss. “You’re in law school, Han Taesan.”
“What? Like it’s hard?”
Dongmin lets out a hearty laugh as he hears you gasp—one of the loudest and most genuine expressions he’s gotten out of you yet.
“I’m so done with you,” you huff. Dongmin hears you shuffle through your closet, most likely finding something to wear.
“You say that everytime,” Dongmin whispers to himself softly.
“Anyway,” you announce loudly, “you better have some food for me once I arrive—I’m wearing your stupid varsity jacket.”
“Alright, sweetheart, anything for you,” Dongmin jests in a sing -song voice.
He hears you yelp in disgust, chuckling. “Yuck! Fuck off, Taesan!”
˚ ▒ ₊ㅤ Ⳋ᧙ ⁺
IT’S a friendly match, nothing serious, Taesan had said; yet you’re here amongst other significant others, to watch him and his team play against another school’s team.
At the bleachers, you feel called out, and insanely out of place. Everyone looks so in love—girlfriends wearing jerseys with their boyfriends’ numbers and names on the back, painted their faces accordingly, and even cheering for them with their hearts; mothers and siblings gathering together to support their sons and brothers.
Everyone looks so genuinely in love, and you’re the only one who’s there just because you have to. You arrived only two minutes before the match started, too, because you obviously don’t love Taesan enough to be rescheduling your work shift to see him play.
You fidget with the edges of the varsity jacket you’re wearing, oddly feeling how it’s perfectly oversized on you.
Earlier, Taesan had spotted you sitting awkwardly on the bleachers. He ran over to you, quickly handing you a quesadilla and a cup of bubble tea, before jogging back to the basketball court to warm up. He didn’t say anything, nor did you—but the gesture made you feel weirdly fuzzy.
Taesan did actually get you some food, even though you grumpily yelled at him to do so. You thought he wouldn’t, just so that he could get on your nerves, just like he always does.
You watch him and the team warm up, pumping up positive energy with each other. You take a bite of your quesadilla, trying to ease your heart—yet you just can’t forget the real reason why you’re here.
Jersey number 35.
The whistle blows, indicating the start of the game, and you catch Anton’s glance at you. He gives you a wide smile, winking twice—a sign that he made up, thanking you for coming, just like the old days. You grimace, turning away.
The mission is to make it seem like I’m in love with Taesan.
You intently watch Taesan play in the arena, his moves sharp and powerful. He slips through the opposition’s defense flawlessly, scoring goals smoothly. Every time he throws the ball, it gets into the hoop—people erupt in cheers and he’s surrounded by his teammates.
And every time, Taesan looks up at you, flashing his signature smirk. His grin sparkles, lighting up the room—it makes you feel like you’re the only one in the huge arena.
It makes you feel odd.
Like there’s so much more under that grin he flashes to you every time he scores.
You touch the pendant on your décolletage, the cold metal stinging against your skin. Your fingers trace the letters—the initials of Taesan’s birth name—reminding you this is all a set-up. You’re supposed to pretend, and Taesan is pretending too.
He must be.
Taking a deep breath, you tug the varsity jacket closer to your body, shoving your hands into its pockets. The weight of Taesan’s name and number lay heavy on your back, yet you don a bright smile—trying your best to show your support for him.
Right now, you’re Han Taesan’s girlfriend. Player number 11’s girlfriend.
The match ends with Anton’s final goal, and KOZ Academy’s team wins 115-113. The entire gym erupts in waves of cheer and heartfelt hugs, every attending person feeling proud of their team, losing or not. You jog down the stairs, heading towards Taesan, whose height stands out in the crowd.
When you reach the end of the stairs, you notice Anton’s gaze on you. You glance at him, the weight of past memories dragging you down. At the end of these exact same stairs, you used to run straight to Anton, engulfing him in a hug after a match. You used to kiss his cheek, congratulating him for a successful game. You used to feel like your entire world revolved around him, and that you would be happy with him.
But that was in the past. Now, you can look at Anton with nothing in your heart. You feel nothing but plain resentment—damning him for the things he did to you. You had thought he was the love of your life, that you’d grow old with him—but Anton had other plans, and another girl that he prioritised more than you.
You turn your head away, directing your gaze towards Taesan. He’s talking to his friends, his hair wet from the sweat. He’s grinning proudly, talking about something that’s interesting to boys.
You sigh. Hopefully this whole set-up works—Anton leaves you alone, the rumours die down, and you can go back to bashing Taesan’s head.
And hopefully, you can move on, too. Once and for all.
From the corner of your eyes, you see Anton take a step towards you. Though, what you don’t see is that Taesan is faster. He waves at you, calling your name with a big grin, before running to give you a hug.
Your eyes widen upon the impact, and it’s like everything is in slow motion.
Taesan pulls away, ruffling your hair. His eyes crinkle with his grin. “Are you proud of me, darling?”
Darling.
You gulp.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
You give him a laugh, trying your best to not make it sound staged. Your nose crinkles at the smell of sweaty boys. Taesan notices, of course, and he chuckles.
“Sorry, I must smell bad. I’ll be sure to spray on some more deodorant next time.”
You gaze into Taesan’s eyes, his arms still around your waist. There’s some kind of softness behind his teasing look—something that you’ve never seen before.
A small smile forms on your lips, one that you’re unable to hold back. “Good job, Taesan.”
“Yeah?” Taesan laughs, his eyes forming crescent moons. “Thanks, Y/N.”
He then leans in to whisper, “that’s the first time I’ve heard that from you.”
You push him away, rolling your eyes. “Fuck off, Taesan. I’ll be waiting at the bus stop.”
Taesan laughs loudly as you stomp away. “By the way,” he yells, “you look good wearing my number, sweetheart!”
You lower your head, biting your lips to fight two things—the urge to flash the middle finger to the jolly Taesan behind you, and the weird fluttering feeling that erupts in your stomach every time he calls you ‘sweetheart’.
˚ ▒ ₊ㅤ Ⳋ᧙ ⁺
“Y/N,” you turn around, finding a panting Anton in front of you.
You’re standing in line outside one of the most famous pasta restaurants in the heart of the KOZ School of Medicine square, waiting to buy this one pasta dish you’ve been craving for the entire month. You didn’t tell anyone you’d be here—not even Taesan or the girls—so you’re weirded out by the fact that your ex found you here.
“...Anton,” you curtly acknowledge.
“Is it true?” he asks.
You force your eyes close for a second, wishing that it wasn’t wrong to beat someone up. “What?”
“That you’re dating Han Taesan. I saw him kissing your cheek last time.”
Your heart almost stops beating for a second. Almost two months have passed, and almost everyone in the entire campus of KOZ Academy knows that you and Taesan are finally getting tired of fighting each other—falling in love instead.
Your plan has passed the soft launch phase, and now, you’re having your nemesis call you sweet, adoring nicknames out in public.
“Yes,” you answer, managing a deadpan expression. “What about it?”
“Do you love him?”
You narrow your eyes at Anton, feeling like if he keeps on shooting questions like this, he’d go home with a black eye. “Why does it matter if I love him or not?”
“Because,” Anton starts, his voice beginning to waver with every following word, “you used to love me.”
His words hang in the air, thick with a known, cursed history. You could hear your heart stutter for a split second, but you shake your head, quickly suppressing the feeling. You take in a sharp breath, feeling the heat of old anger rise in your chest. You force yourself to look at Anton, eyes hardening.
“That was two years ago, Anton,” you say, your voice detached. “And you made sure to end it, remember?”
Anton’s face flickers with something—guilt, regret, maybe even a hint of fear—but you’re not interested in seeing it. You’re sick of it—too familiar with the way he can spin his words to make himself seem like the victim.
“You don’t get to do this,” you continued, lips tightening into a thin line. “You don’t get to just show up and act like we can pick up where we left off, after what you did with Mina."
Anton’s face darkens the moment your old best friend’s name leaves your mouth, but you hold his gaze without flinching. Anton opens his mouth, probably to throw another lame and poorly explained excuse that you’ve heard before, but you’re faster than he is.
“Save it,” you snap. “You don’t have any right to ask me if I love Taesan after what you did. You lost that right the moment you lied to me and slept with her.”
Anton looks taken aback, as if he hadn’t expected you to bring that up, but obviously, you don’t care. You’ve held your feelings in for so long—leaving them behind quietly to try and move on without a commotion. You’ve spent enough time letting him walk all over you in the past—you’re not about to let him do it again.
For a moment, Anton looks like he’s about to say something more, but you don’t give him a chance. You turn away, taking a small step back as you glance briefly at the line in front of you. “I’m done with this conversation, Anton. You should be, too.”
˚ ▒ ₊ㅤ Ⳋ᧙ ⁺
THE next morning, after your first class of the day, you sigh as you find yourself waiting outside of a rather packed coffee shop—allegedly Taesan’s favourite one—bundled up in Taesan’s scarf. Autumn is starting to give way to winter, and as it’s doing so, the winds and temperatures are getting crazier. You bury your face further into the softness of Taesan’s scarf, letting the mixture of champagne orange, passion fruit, and sugar vanilla attack your senses. It’s disturbing, once the fact that the scarf that’s warming you up belongs to Taesan registers in your head; however, you had no choice. Freezing your nose off was the only other option.
“Hey,” you hear Taesan’s voice, turning instantly towards him.
“Apple pie latte?” he says, handing you a warm cup of said coffee. Grabbing it from him, you perk your eyebrows up.
“How did you know?” you say, pushing the scarf down. Taesan shrugs, sipping his own drink. You glance at the sticker on his cup: cinnamon maple latte.
“Instincts.”
You snicker at his reply, rolling your eyes. “Cut me some slack.”
The two of you then walk back towards the law school complex, where both of your classes will be held next. The winds begin to blow, and you find yourself hiding half your face behind Taesan’s scarf. You squint your eyes, blinking harshly as the stray strands of hair sting them.
“I love autumn, but not this kind,” you mumble.
Taesan glances at you, and in one swift motion, he grabs your free hand and shoves it into the pocket of his coat. He interlaces his hand with yours, letting his body warmth transfer to you.
Your eyes widen, your brain slow at processing the situation. You whip your head towards the tall man walking with you, his expression relaxed as ever.
“What are you doing?” you hiss, trying to pull away.
Taesan gives you a look that yells ‘really, Y/N?’. “Keeping you warm?”
“I don’t need your help,” you retort, yanking your hand away.
Taesan grabs it back, shoving it into his pocket. This time, his grip on your hand is firmer than before. “I don’t need my girlfriend to freeze to death—it’s going to ruin my reputation.”
Realisation hits you, again, like a ton of bricks right at the face.
Oh.
“Okay,” you say quietly, letting him do his thing. You look away, deciding to admire the surrounding golden trees. You take a deep breath, reminding yourself of how this whole ‘thing’ with Taesan is temporary—and having a personal heat packet isn’t too bad.
Once the two of you reach the lecture hall together, people begin to clearly spectate. You pull your hand away from him, rushing to your usual seat. Taesan, his expression calm as he always is, walks over to his usual seat as well—directly behind you.
Then, two minutes before the lecture starts, the person you truly hated comes into view, and decides to sit at the empty seat next to you.
“Hi, Y/N,” your ex, Anton, greets you with the biggest smile on his face. You mentally sob—already dreading the three hours to come.
You turn away, scooting as far as you could. The memories rush like a flood you can’t stop—reminding you of the heart-tearing pain the boy sitting next to you caused.
“Y/N? You alright? You look pale,” Anton says, probing further.
“It’s the weather,” you reply dully, your lips downturned. You unravel Taesan’s scarf from your neck, placing it on your lap. Your eyes fixed onto the lecture, you ignore Anton’s attempts to get you conversing with him.
“Y/N, are you free after class?” Anton whispers, twenty minutes into the lecture.
“No.” You give him a side glance.
“And you don’t even take IT,” you fake a smile, “so I don’t think you should even be here. With due respect, get lost, yeah?”
“I’m honoured,” Anton whispers back. The soft smile on his face makes you gag. “You still remember things about me.”
“Oh, please,” you grimace, anger beginning to bubble up inside of you. “I’d rather make out with Taesan than remember even the tiniest bit of–”
You suck in your breath sharply, your cheeks flushing at an alarming rate. You had blurted your words out too fast to even register the fact that you’re actually wearing the said person’s initials in a necklace ‘round your neck.
“You’d rather what now, sweetheart?”
Hearing Taesan’s voice, you can almost see his smug smirk decorating that annoyingly attractive face of his.
Your eyes widen.
I did not just admit that.
You turn to Taesan for a moment, flashing him a sheepish smile. You quickly spin back to face the lecture, forcing yourself to focus.
After the lecture concluded, you find yourself stuck in a sticky situation—Anton just can’t let you go out.
“Do you want to go and grab lunch together? It’s pretty late for lunch, and I know your stomach gets upset easily if you don’t eat,” you wince upon hearing his soft tone.
You frown, hating the fact that Anton knows almost a lot of things about you. “No, Anton, I’m sure I said–”
“She said no, Lee, I’m sure even a stupid motherfucker can understand.”
Seeing Anton’s eyes almost pop out at the sight of Taesan next to you, you’re sure that you look the same. You turn sharply towards Taesan, who has his hand perfectly placed on your back. The look on his face is fierce and scary, like he’s about to completely destroy Anton exactly where he’s standing.
“Han,” Anton addresses him curtly. “I didn’t know that you’re on… good terms with Y/N.”
You fidget with the charm on your décolletage, collecting every bit of energy you have to maintain a stoic expression.
Taesan flashes a sly smirk, pride radiating from his eyes as the corners of Anton’s lips twitch. “Why? Is it important to you who I’m close to?”
“No, but given your history with Y/N—I don’t want her to get hurt,” Anton blathers, “so I’m gladly asking you to–”
“What? Fuck off?” Taesan scoffs. Your eyes bulge, somehow not expecting Taesan’s choice of words to be so vulgar. “I think that’s what you’re supposed to do, Lee.”
“Y/N,” Anton says, desperation vivid in his voice. He grabs your wrist, and you instinctively step back. “C’mon, let’s go. I know you don’t like this stupid asshole here–”
Before you could even act, Taesan steps in front of you, shoving Anton to the floor. The students who are still lingering around stop to look. You couldn’t hold in your gasp—Taesan looks extremely angry, you swear you could see fire in his eyes.
A thought clicks into your head.
Taesan is the it-boy, of course he’s good at acting.
You take a step back, weirded by the heavy feeling of disappointment that begins to cloud your heart as soon as you remember the arrangement.
It’s just acting, Y/N. Get it together.
“Don’t touch her, bastard,” you hear Taesan hiss before he turns to you. Anger still lingering around, you watch with silence as Taesan relaxes the tension in his jaw. In a mirroring silence, he gestures for you to follow him out. You nod.
As you turn on your heel, Anton calls out, visibly irritated.
“Y/N,” he says, “what’s going on?”
You give him a mocking smile. You swing Taesan’s scarf around your neck. “I don’t think I owe you an explanation, Anton.”
˚ ▒ ₊ㅤ Ⳋ᧙ ⁺
AS you and Taesan walk out of the lecture hall, you can’t ignore the heavy weight settling in your chest. It keeps replaying in your mind: the way Taesan stepped in, fiercely protective—it’s all an act, right? You sneak a glance at Taesan, but his face is unreadable, his jaw still slightly clenched from the encounter.
“Taesan… you didn’t have to do that,” you mumble, playing with the hem of his scarf.
Taesan exhales through his nose, his shoulders rising slightly. “I didn’t like the way he was looking at you,” he then adds under his breath, “fucking bastard.”
You blink, unintentionally slowing your steps. That’s… different from what you expected.
“Taesan,” you try again, but he shoves his hands into his pockets, picking up the pace.
You know you should just let it go, but the air between the two of you feels heavier than it was before. Was it just an act? Maybe it was—and that Taesan’s acting skills are as good as the rom-com actors—but something about the way he had looked at Anton; like he was seconds away from doing more than just shoving him to the ground.
It feels too… real.
A sudden gust of wind cuts through your coat, making you shiver. Instantly, Taesan grabs your wrist and pulls you into a nearby convenience store.
“Sit,” he orders, disappearing for a moment. You watch him move through the aisles, confusion twisting in your chest. You take a seat exactly where he ordered you to, your head fuzzy from the mixture of confusing, unnamed emotions.
When he returns, he kneels slightly, pressing a warm drink and a heat pack into her hands, his fingers lingering just a second too long.
“You’re hopeless,” he murmurs, shaking his head. “First my scarf, now this.”
You gasp dramatically, rolling your eyes as your lips twitch, your heart knocking against your ribs. “You’re the one who keeps giving me things.”
Taesan just hums in response, his gaze locking onto yours. His usual unreadable expression softens, something almost unreadable flickering in his eyes.
Your grip tightens on the cup, trying to shake off the way your body reacts to his warmth. This whole thing with Taesan was supposed to be temporary. So why did it feel like something had changed?
˚ ▒ ₊ㅤ Ⳋ᧙ ⁺
DONGMIN takes several deep breaths, his eyes shut. The jazz music plays in the background, and the buzz of the cafe calms him down.
No wonder Y/N likes this place.
Dongmin opens his eyes, finding himself staring at you ordering drinks and some food for the two of you. You had dragged him here as soon as you finished your drink at the convenience store, repeating that you needed to treat him to some food. Your voice rings in his head, telling him that he needed to follow you to the coffee shop, to cool off his steam.
“Do you like apple pie?” you ask, setting a plate of two slices of said dessert, accompanied by two scoops of vanilla ice cream.
“Why do you even ask if you’ve already gotten it? Seems like my preference doesn’t matter,” Dongmin replies, putting on the usual smirk.
Your eyes widen and he chuckles.
“Well,” you huff, “I like apple pie—and it’s impossible to find someone who doesn’t.”
“Alright,” Dongmin laughs, and it hits. His laughter dies down as the realisation sinks in—watching you devour your slice of apple pie like it’s the only food you’ll eat until the end of time.
Dongmin, as he puts a bite of his food into his mouth, realises how messed up he is. He realises how often a hearty laugh escapes him when he’s with you—how a flustered, frustrated mess you make him.
“Why are you being nice to me?” Dongmin asks. He pokes his fork absentmindedly into the crust of the apple pie, second guessing his question the moment it leaves him.
You and he had always, always been rivals—a pair that’s never meant to get along. He’d always find you muttering curses and throwing glares in his direction; and he’d always find himself trying his best to reciprocate your disdain for him.
Dongmin does hate you, too.
He hates how you’re so confident, so diligent, so talented. He despises how hard you work, how determined you are, how you seem to always effortlessly bring him down and defeat him in academics. He feels the most intense dislike for you—whenever you walk in the room, he feels like the world is about to explode, along with his sanity.
Dongmin hates, with a burning passion, how he can’t stop himself from falling in love with you. He absolutely loathes the way you smile, the way your eyes crinkle when you laugh, and the way you look at him—with such fiery determination that’s enough to knock him off his feet. He completely hates the way that he has to keep his tongue sharp, and his attitude insufferable, for you to give him a sliver of your attention. He perfectly hates the way it’s impossible for him to let you know that he doesn’t hate you, at all.
Dongmin watches you open your mouth to reply, yet you don’t for a few moments. You return his gaze, uncertainty playing around in her eyes.
“What do you mean?” you ask, tilting your head in confusion. “We’re just eating apple pie, Taesan,” you laugh sheepishly.
For the first time, Dongmin doesn’t have an immediate answer. He swallows the bite of apple pie in his mouth, unsure of what he should say next. His smirk fades and hesitation engulfs him.
You notice this, of course, and your frown deepens. Though, before you could do anything, Jaehyun—Dongmin’s friend, suddenly appears.
He greets Dongmin, patting his shoulder. “Yo, Taesan, long time no see! Wait–” he pauses, laying his eyes on you. “Wait, am I dreaming? You two? Sitting together? Laughing? Are pigs flying now?”
You immediately shake your head, laughing along with Jaehyun. Dongmin, on the other hand, is dazed. He stays silent, still unsure of what to say. He’s finding everything peculiar—the way he’s unable to say anything, the way that his heart is thumping loudly against his chest at the mention of you as his girlfriend.
He watches you politely say goodbye to Jaehyun, gaining certainty with every beat of his heart.
His little crush on you is resurfacing, after two years of pushing it down with faked hatred.
˚ ▒ ₊ㅤ Ⳋ᧙ ⁺
AFTER Jaehyun leaves, you let yourself sneak a glance at Taesan, who’s absentmindedly poking holes in his already destroyed pie crust, avoiding your gaze. You notice his oddly quiet state—the Taesan you know would never miss the chance to throw in a witty remark.
You throw him a glare, slightly hoping it’d make him knock out of his trance. You set your fork down with an audible clink. “You’re being weird. I mean, you always are insufferably weird, but this is even weirder.”
Taesan scoffs, lifting his drink to his lips. “And you’re being annoying. Paranoid.”
You cross your arms, an annoyed grimace forming on your face. “Am I?”
Taesan holds your gaze for a moment too long, something flickering in his eyes before he looks away. “Maybe not.”
Oh.
You lean back, sighing dramatically. “Fine. I don’t get what you being weird has with me being paranoid, but yeah, I’m totally being paranoid. Definitely imagining things,” you scoff sarcastically.
Taesan hums in agreement. “You do that a lot.”
You choke on air. Glaring at Taesan, you retort, “you’re infuriating.”
“And yet, here you are, sharing dessert with me,” Taesan smirks, tilting his head.
You pause, blinking profusely.
That… is a valid point. How did you even get here? You and Taesan are supposed to be rivals. Aren’t you supposed to hate each other?
Your stomach twists, and suddenly, you find it difficult to swallow your final bites of apple pie.
After moments of deafening silence, you say, your voice slightly wavering, “you’re unbelievably good at dodging questions, Taesan.”
You bring your drink to your lips, hoping that you sounded casual.
Taesan looks up from his finished plate of apple pie, smirking as he leans back. “Oh, yeah? Have you ever considered that you’re too good at asking too many questions, and it’s insufferable?”
Your eyes widen slightly, flickering to the way that his eyes glare vaguely at you. “Maybe I am,” you admit quietly, “but you’re dodging the real ones.”
Taesan’s smirk falters a little bit, just for a second, and there’s something unrecognisable in his eyes. Something you can’t put a name on.
Maybe a shift in the air. Maybe it’s just your imagination. Or maybe it’s because your heart is racing just a little too fast.
You’re so focused on trying to read Taesan’s expressions that you don’t notice the way your voice softens. “So… if this whole thing is an act, why do I keep feeling like you actually care?”
You mentally hit yourself. That isn’t what you meant to say—and it’s certainly not what you would say in front of Taesan.
Though, it’s out before you can stop yourself. The words hang in the air, heavy and uncertain.
Taesan freezes, his eyes widening with a vulnerability for a fraction of a second. Then, just as quickly as it came, his guard comes back up. “Like we’ve discussed before, it’s an act. Nothing more.”
His voice is stern and plain, and his expression is stoic, but you catch the tremble in his hand as he’s fiddling with his fork.
That, somehow, doesn’t sit right with you.
You learn forward, the pendant swinging against your décolletage, your expression more serious now. “Then why do you care so much?”
You watch him closely, catching the tightening in his jaw and the way his hand proceeds to rest on the table, fingers anxiously tapping against the wood. Taesan doesn’t answer immediately, and instead, he looks away to drift his gaze to the window.
Your chest suddenly tightens. He’s acting like this is nothing, but you certainly feel it—the crack in the walls you’ve both constructed carefully against each other. It’s a tug at the back of your mind, a repeating whisper you’ve been trying so hard to push away.
And yet, the silence between you feels louder than ever.
Minutes pass by and the silence gets louder and louder. You’re lost in your own thoughts—realising just how much you’re affected by Taesan; just how much more you’re feeling than you want to admit. In the silence, you’re wondering, are you just imagining all this? Maybe it’s just you, maybe it’s the fact that you’re finding something more from this fake relationship you have with Taesan, your nemesis.
Though, there’s something that you can’t deny: the fact that your chest tightens with fluttering butterflies every time he gets too close, every time his words shift to something softer than usual, it’s something that makes your heart trip in your chest.
“Y/N,” Taesan calls, his voice softer than anticipated, and you’re pulled out of your train of thought. You look at him slowly, uncertain and afraid of what’s to come. He pauses, as if he’s unsure of what to say next. “What if… I told you I’m not sure if I can pretend much longer?”
His gaze finally meets yours, and for a moment, there’s no mask—just the raw sincerity in his eyes.
Your breath catches in your throat, your heart skipping a beat. You open your mouth, trying to say something—but nothing comes out. The evident truth in his words hits you like an ocean wave on a sunny day, and you can’t help but feel something is shifting between you both.
˚ ▒ ₊ㅤ Ⳋ᧙ ⁺
THE next few weeks pass by like a ridiculously large time-skip in a movie. You’re doing things like you usually do—attend classes, do mootings, send in assignments, study for exams. Though, there’s one big thing in your life that you can’t ignore—Taesan, your fake-dating arrangement, and the lingering, unspoken tension between the two of you. The first week after the coffee shop episode, you couldn’t sleep even a wink—your mind kept on replaying the scenes over and over again, the way you caught Taesan’s guard almost falling down. You’re sure you felt it too, the cracks in the walls you’ve built against him—even for a short moment.
At school, you’re hyper aware and extra distracted by Taesan. He’s doing his part of the agreement well, acting like he agreed he would. Every glance from him feels like a load of unspoken words, and the air between you two feels heavy. Every day you ponder, unsure of what to do with the new, fragile tension that’s settled between you and Taesan.
Today is the same—everything passes in a blur of lectures, assignments, and studying. You drag your heavy footsteps out of the room, your head spinning at the thought of the many assignments waiting for you. You look up, and the moment you step into the hallway, you see Taesan leaning against the wall, phone in hand, looking as calm as ever.
You walk near him, and your eyes meet—you see a flicker of something there—a tension, a question neither of you have the answer to.
“Y/N,” Taesan greets you with a casual, unreadable smile. You pause in your steps, turning to face him.
“Hi,” you reply quite timidly. You’re trying to sound casual, but you can hear the slight hitch in your voice. There’s no pretending this isn’t different now. There’s no pretending you didn’t almost cross a line last time.
Taesan takes a final glance at his phone before shoving it into his pocket. “Still pretending this is just an act?” he asks, his voice surprisingly soft but laced with something familiar, almost teasing.
You pause, your breath stuck in your throat. Your heart, yet again, skips a beat, and you try to brush it off by laughing nervously. “Me? Pretending? I’m not pretending,” you say, and it’s directed more towards yourself than to him.
You’re not sure who’s trying to convince who anymore.
Taesan looks taken aback. He blinks profusely before putting his usual, calm expression back on. “Yeah,” he whispers, nodding, “I’ll see you around, Y/N.”
You watch him walk away, heart twisting in the weirdest way.
˚ ▒ ₊ㅤ Ⳋ᧙ ⁺
DONGMIN hates the way everything is now. Why can’t he just tell you everything? Why can’t he just tell you that he isn’t pretending, that he actually cares?
He wants to stop everything–going back to shoving insults at your face might be the safest option of them all. Yet, Dongmin finds himself caring for you in the little ways—wrapping his scarf around your neck, adjusting the placement of your bangs with a simple ruffle, placing a tin of coffee and bread in front of you whenever you seem exhausted with studying, sliding post-its to you with his handwriting reminding you to take breaks when needed. He still finds his heart racing upon seeing you; the way your lips pout when you’re deep in thought, the way you smile and laugh so adorably upon hearing a funny joke from your friends, the way you’re still so cute even when frustrated.
As he walks away, Dongmin fights with his own heart. Why was he acting like this? It’s so clear that you’re expecting something more, but why is he pushing you away?
Dongmin takes a deep breath. Yeah, he’s scared. He’s afraid that maybe it’s all in his head, maybe you’re the one acting so well and it’s just gotten to him.
Dongmin swears to get himself together, but it looks like he’s going to need more than just mental affirmations.
The next day, he misses his alarm, for the first time in forever, and is running late to his 9 AM lecture. He’s speed walking through students, dodging them with a bag hanging on one shoulder and his hair still partially wet. Just as he’s about to near the entrance of the Law building, he hears raised voices nearby. He puts his hood up, his first instinct is to ignore it all—he’s got no time to eavesdrop on people’s business. However, he recognises one of the two quarrelling voices—yours.
Dongmin’s steps come to a halt, and he turns to face you. His eyes slightly widen and his shoulders begin to tense as he sees you and Anton standing a few feet away, locked in an argument. He’s a bit too far away to hear the full conversation, yet he catches some bits of it.
You’re standing at your full height, stiffly in front of Anton, arms crossed and eyes blazing with fury. Anton, on the opposite side of you, no longer has that sickening, innocent smile—instead, he’s flashing you a mocking smirk.
The argument is already reaching its peak, yet Dongmin is quick to analyse the situation just by picking up a few bits.
“You think you’re really something, don’t you?” Anton taunts.
You scoff. Dongmin could tell you’re offended, yet the mask you put on really makes a difference. “At least I don’t have to put other people down to feel important.”
Anton scoffs back, “please. You act like you’re above all this, but you’re just as desperate for attention as everyone else.”
Dongmin clenches his jaw, watching the argument unfold as his fingers begin to twitch.
You give Anton a mocking laugh, stepping forward. “I don’t care what you think, Anton Lee. I don’t care if you think I don’t love Taesan, because what matters is my own feelings, not yours. And I’m done wasting my time on you.”
Before you could turn away and enter the building, Anton grabs your wrist.
It’s not aggressive, but it’s enough. Enough to make Dongmin see red.
Everything’s a blur—one second later, he’s towering in front of Anton, his eyes glaring daggers.
“Let her go,” his voice is low and threatening, as sharp as a blade.
Anton looks up, initially startled, but as soon as he sees Dongmin, he rolls his eyes. His hand still around your wrist, he says with a sneer, “look who’s here, Y/N’s knight in shining armour! Oh, so great, always the hero.”
Dongmin is too busy counting down the ways he could destroy Anton’s life to be noticing how immediate the warmth creeps up your cheeks. Dongmin, in one fluid motion, steps closer, standing between you and Anton.
“Did you hear me?” his voice drops deadly lower than before, his posture relaxed yet his eyes are dangerous. “Let. Go.”
Anton huffs, roughly letting go of your hand. He shakes his head. “You two are seriously something else,” he mutters before storming away.
You and Dongmin stand next to each other, cautiously eyeing Anton until he disappears from sight. For that moment, none of you say anything.
“What was that for?” you say suddenly, crossing your arms. “I didn’t need you to step in.”
Dongmin shoves his hood down to his neck, raising his eyebrow. Feeling slightly irritated, he scorns. “Yeah? Looked like you were having a great time.”
You roll your eyes, scoffing, but something pinches Dongmin’s heart as he notices there’s no real bite behind it. “I’m fine—I had it all handled.”
Silence.
Dongmin exhales sharply, words shooting out of his mouth without second thought. “I know. It’s just–”
He stops, his eyes landing on your wrist. Closes his mouth.
You wait for a few moments, before warily asking. “What? Just what?”
Dongmin hesitates. Suddenly, it’s all he can push out of his throat. He’s already there, halfway crossing the line he’s put between you and him for the past two years.
And then, it just… slips out.
“I just can’t stand it, okay?”
Your frown deepens, confused. “Stand… what?”
Dongmin lets out a frustrated breath, turning sharply to completely face you. “I can’t stand seeing you with people like that fucking bastard. I can’t stand watching you get into these stupid situations. And I really, really can’t stand how much I—”
His eyes widen, and his words stumble upon a stop. Dongmin stammers, realising what he was just about to say.
“Taesan,” you call, gently, hope suddenly shimmering in your eyes. “How much you what?”
Dongmin freezes. He’s silent, tongue frozen, unable to utter another word.
He can’t say it.
Instead, he runs a hand through his hair, muttering curses under his breath.
“You know what?”
“Taesan–”
“Next time,” he says quickly, in a softer voice, “don’t… waste your time on a guy like him.”
Your eye contact is still intact, you open your mouth to argue, but nothing comes out. Your eyes widen for a split second—as if you’re catching on to the feelings displayed, unknowingly, on Dongmin’s face.
His concern is real.
“W-we should go,” you stammer instead, gesturing to the Law building.
Dongmin nods. He grabs your backpack from you, signalling for you to walk in first. “Yeah. Let’s go.”
You force yourself to walk as swiftly as possible to the lecture hall, heart pounding, mind racing. Behind you, Dongmin’s entire body is tense. He’s finally realising he can’t keep his feelings for you hidden forever.
˚ ▒ ₊ㅤ Ⳋ᧙ ⁺
THE next day, you can’t stop thinking about Taesan—and whatever he was about to say to you. Your mind races with a million different thoughts throughout the day. What if he actually feels the same? What if you’re not the only one looking for something more in this fake arrangement?
However, given that exams are looming closer, you’re only given a short amount of time to dwell on your thoughts. After your last class of the day, you find yourself cooped up in the library, studying the rest of the day away. Several of your friends join you, too.
The study group grows, joined by both your friends and Taesan’s—though, you didn’t even realise that Taesan is sitting across you the entire day, until everyone starts leaving one by one.
By midnight, it’s only you and him. You don’t look up, but you can feel your heart thumping faster than usual. You’re hyper aware of your surroundings—how close he is, how his scent feels comforting yet intimidating, and how his presence is reminding you of something that you’re too afraid to admit.
“Y/N,” you open your eyes to someone gently shaking your shoulder, the reality of things crashing onto you all at once. You lift your head up, realising that you fell asleep in the middle of reviewing a past paper. Your eyes meet with Taesan’s concerned gaze.
His voice is low and soft, as if it’s only for you. “Let’s take a break. You’ve been snoozing off way too many times.”
Your heart is beating a little faster than usual, but you agree. Taesan’s request seems too casual, and he looks like he needs a break too.
You follow his lead, walking a little bit behind him to the convenience store that’s still open in campus grounds. He’s silent, observing you and letting you pick anything you want before paying for both your things and his.
“Go sit,” he says, holding your instant tteokbokki package in hand, along with his instant noodles. “I’ll heat these up.”
Taesan quickly moves to the microwave before you can say anything in retaliation, a sign that you take seriously. He’s not in the mood for any fights.
You take a seat, and soon after, Taesan joins you. He puts your instant meal in front of you, breaking your chopsticks for you.
“Here,” he says, his voice quiet. “Careful, the tteok is still hot.”
He then slips his coat around you before turning back to his own beverages.
You find yourself staring at him, long after he’s handed you your things. You watch him, peacefully releasing his tension—running a hand through his hair, chugging down a cup of coffee.
Everything around you looks like it has a blurred filter on, yet one thing is crystal clear: Taesan, and his evident care for you. The longer you stare at him, the more you realise.
He’s always been the one. He’s always been there.
It hits you harder than any bad grade has ever done.
Taesan has always been like this—quietly looking out for you, quietly caring for you.
All this while, all the banter, the little arguments, moments, and glances—it’s not just rivalry. It’s not just the fact that he always finds a way to make you all grumbly and irritated. It’s not just the fact that, even back when you were with Anton, he’d always find a way to show his care for you.
It’s not just the fact that you enjoy his company, even if he makes you feel like you want to bang your head against the wall.
You like him.
You like Han Taesan.
You quickly turn your head away, blood rushing to your head as soon as the realisation hits you. You stuff a few bites of instant tteokbokki into your mouth, wanting to quickly get rid of whatever this warm, refreshing feeling is.
“Can you stop looking at me like that, L/N?”
You cough, shocked at how his sudden comment breaks through the almost comforting silence. All the past moments you’ve had with him—the banter, the insults, the arguments—run through your head as soon as your last name, what Taesan had always called you, reaches your ears.
“Like what?” emboldened by the awakening of your feelings, you retort, your tone more challenging than you intended.
Taesan snaps, pushing his chair back, raking a frustrated hand through his hair.
“Like I’m your fucking boyfriend.”
“What?” you’re confused, not expecting that out of his mouth. “What are you–”
“Like you’re waiting for me to say something that I know I can’t take back.”
“Say it, then.”
You say, challenging him. It feels sentimental—like the old days, where all you did when you met Taesan was throw taunting words at him. But at the same time, the words come out of your mouth without realising—daring the two of you to finally cross the line.
“I like you, okay? I probably love you at this point, I don’t know. I don’t know when it started, but I do. And I—” He exhales sharply, his voice softer. “I don’t want to keep pretending I don’t.”
The world stops spinning and you stare at him, blank.
Your tongue feels numb, your heart racing at a million miles per hour.
You feel the same, you’re sure, but you don’t know how to respond. Do you smile and say it back? Do you tease him, calling him an idiot like you always do?
“I didn’t mean to fall for you,” you catch Taesan muttering.
You smile. “Me too,” you say softly.
Taesan lifts his head immediately, sharply turning to you with widened eyes. “... pardon?”
˚ ▒ ₊ㅤ Ⳋ᧙ ⁺
THE next few days feel like a refreshing spring breeze in the peak of winter, yet the air is filled with a cute awkwardness. After the confession, neither of you explicitly announce to one another that the two of you are a real couple now—yet your interactions feel new and unscripted, but no one exactly is making the first move.
Of course, your friends notice before the two of you do.
You’re sitting at the food hall together with Yunjin and Sophia, eating breakfast. You’re halfway through your pancakes, and Taesan—or Dongmin, as you call him now—suddenly takes a seat next to you.
“Mind if I join, girls?” he asks, a charming grin on his face. He’s asking the table, yet his gaze is directed to you. You bite your lip shyly, nodding.
“Sure, make yourself at home,” Yunjin says, her words laced with teasing. She watches with eagle eyes as Dongmin puts all of the sliced bananas from his serving of pancakes onto yours, knowing that you especially enjoy them with your breakfast pancakes. She snorts at the obvious look of love in Dongmin’s eyes, more evident now that he isn’t shoving insults at your face. “So, you two are really dating now?”
You choke on your bite of pancake, immediately blurting out,
“No!”
“Yes.”
You sharply turn to Dongmin, who has a smug look on his face. It’s the one look on his face that you’re used to, yet there’s a tint of pink on his cheeks. The edge of his smirk twitches, threatening to form into a cute, lovesick smile.
“...I see,” Sophia interrupts your awkward eye contact, sighing dramatically.
“We’re dating?” you ask Dongmin acutely, your brows connecting in an embarrassed frown.
“I don’t know,” Dongmin shrugs casually, the look in his eyes teasing. “Are we?”
The blush that instantly creeps up your cheeks tells you the answer. You look away, suddenly focused on the way you’re cutting your pancakes. Dongmin’s laugh echoes to your left, and your friends’ send you teasing looks.
˚ ▒ ₊ㅤ Ⳋ᧙ ⁺
A few months later, on the first week back after winter break, you go on a walk around campus with your boyfriend, Han Dongmin. It feels weird, calling him yours now. Just almost half a year ago, you were fighting your ego to have your nemesis fake-date you in order to intimidate your ex into leaving you and your life alone. Now, that same thorn in your side has become the light of your life, the apple of your eye. Now, the two of you are in something that’s not written on a flimsy contract.
Dongmin had also helped clear out the rumours surrounding you—in the most annoying, Han Taesan way—announcing the truth about Anton by spreading it like a rumour to everyone. You still get second-hand embarrassment remembering that day, bombarded by questions and apologies from acquaintances and people you’ve only seen around.
“You know,” you say dreamily, distracted by your train of thought, “you’re so annoying—but I love you.”
Dongmin freezes, his steps coming to an immediate halt. You, too, freeze in your steps as you realise you’re a few steps ahead of him now. You turn around, eyebrows perked up. “What’s wrong, Dongmin?”
Dongmin.
The sound of your voice calling his birth name repeats in his mind, like a favourite song on loop. He stares, unable to say anything. His eyes fall on the pendant dangling from your neck, one that you started wearing due to the fake-dating arrangement. He remembered insisting that you take it off, so that he can buy you a new one later, but you said that it’s special so you won’t take it off.
I love you.
Dongmin feels a smile slowly bloom on his face.
She said it. She didn’t even hesitate. It’s like it’s the easiest thing in the world.
His face softens, jogging up to you. He gives you a cheeky smile.
“Say that again.”
You frown. “What again?”
“The first part.”
“What–” you pause, eyes widening as you get what he’s talking about. Heat rushes up your cheeks, warming your face despite Dongmin’s scarf wrapped around it. “I–”
“Yeah,” Dongmin says, smirking as he wraps an arm around your shoulders. “Me too.”
You bury yourself into the familiar scent of Dongmin’s scarf as he kisses your cheek.
“Fuck you, Han Dongmin,” you grumble, ignoring the obvious butterflies in your stomach.
˚ ▒ ₊ㅤ Ⳋ᧙ ⁺
THAT weekend, you and Dongmin are eating lunch together at your favourite coffee shop. Dongmin had said that the vibes there makes him sleepy, and tried to bring you to eat at one of the more famous restaurants near the KOZ School of Engineering, yet the plan backfires on him when the line is certainly too long.
Now, the two of you are back at your favourite coffee shop, sipping warm cinnamon lattes.
“See?” you tease, smiling cheekily. “I told you this place is the best.”
Dongmin rolls his eyes, taking a big spoonful of the chocolate cinnamon roll on your plate. “I want to eat some real food, like kimchi jjigae, not these sweet chocolate desserts,” he complains, though he can’t hide the fact that he secretly loves it.
“Yet you’re the one finishing my cinnamon roll,” you retort, letting him subconsciously finish your dessert. You’re familiar with his love for chocolate.
Dongmin flashes you an innocent smile, shrugging. “Not my fault.”
Comfortable silence engulfs the two of you, letting you bask in each other’s presence. Suddenly, Dongmin leans closer, adjusting the place of the H.D pendant on your décolletage. Frozen, you watch him lean back into his seat, smiling as he admires you.
“You look good today,” he murmurs, “actually, you look good everyday.”
An undeniable tint of pink colours your face. “I’m literally wearing a black turtleneck sweater, Dongmin.”
His gaze softens. “Like the first time you sat next to me, three years ago, during our foundation year.”
Your eyes widen, your mind replaying the memory, fresh like it happened yesterday. “You… remember?”
“Of course,” Dongmin replies, his smile delicate.
“I even remember the day you walked up to me, confident and all. I thought you were going to brag to my face that you won first place for the quiz we had the day before, but then you told me to fake date you.”
You almost spit out the coffee from your mouth. “Han Dongmin!” you hiss. “Don’t remind me… it was so stupid.”
“Stupid?” Dongmin asks, tilting his head. The signature cocky smirk is back on his face. “Are you sure about that?”
“Yeah…” you sigh, “I mean, I could’ve resolved the matter by myself, you know–”
“But you know that I’m the best option,” Dongmin cuts you off, smug. You roll your eyes.
“I don’t think it’s stupid, though,” he continues, his expression softer. More… raw. “To be honest, I think I was ecstatic that you walked up to me that day.”
“Why?” you ask croakily.
“‘Cause I’ve always liked you, Y/N. I always have. I just don’t understand where things went wrong—maybe it’s the way I thought teasing you would gain me your attention at first. It did. But then, you became used to my teasing and thought of me as a threat—maybe ‘cause I’m smart as hell, too—but yeah. I don’t know how to say it but, all of that hatred was… pretend.”
You blink at him, too shocked to process his words. You try to reply, but mere stuttering comes out, and your face turns bright red.
Dongmin notices this, of course, and he turns on his shameless, impudent grin. “Besides, you said you’re going to grant me any wish that I have, right?”
Oh.
You inhale sharply. How could you forget? You immediately bring out your phone, checking the balance in your bank account. It’s quite a luxury, due to you working a few part time jobs during your break and whenever you can—but you certainly don’t think it’s fit for whatever grand wish Dongmin is about to demand from you.
“Fine,” you huff, “only because it’s part of our… old contract.”
“Old contract, huh?” Dongmin wheezes, already laughing hard. You frown, fighting back a smile.
“Why are you always laughing whenever I speak, dumbass?”
“Hey,” Dongmin pauses his laughter, flicking your forehead gently. It doesn’t even hurt, but you gasp dramatically, and he laughs it off. “It’s babe for you, sweet girl. And, I’m not laughing at you. I’m just admiring how cute and funny you are.”
Babe, huh?
You snort, hiding a smile. “Fine.”
“Anyway, speaking of the old contract,” Dongmin grins, “what’s the new one, then?”
“You haven’t even told me what sort of dumb, overpriced thing you want for your wish,” you say, lips set in a grim line. “And now you want another one?”
“My wish, huh?”
The unreadable look on his face makes you brace yourself and your wallet.
“Then, my darling, this is my wish.”
Dongmin leans forward, brushing his lips against yours. It’s subtle, short and sweet, but significant enough for you to realise it all—the reality of your feelings and his. He lingers for a while before sitting back in his chair.
“So,” he says coolly, ignoring the plain blush streaked across his face. “Can you grant me the wish? To kiss you anytime, and anywhere I want?”
“Basically, physical affection can be done anytime?” you say, quoting what this man in front of you said months ago, when both of you first agreed on the fake-dating situation. The whole absurd set-up that brought the two of you to where you are, today.
Dongmin laughs, clearly impressed. “Yeah,” he nods.
You give him a warm smile, glad that you’re finally able to follow your heart’s desires, and to not put up a wall of defense around him anymore.
“Wish granted.”
― © htaesan, 2025.
⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀want more like this? check out the 𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄
#💬 ノ 𝗠𝗜𝗨𝗠𝗨𝗥𝗔’𝗦 𝗥𝗘𝗖𝗦 •ᴗ• !#» 🐈⬛ ) 𝒎𝒚 𝒈𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒇𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒛 🐠 ♥︎#LILI♥︎SOPH 𓈒 𝒉𝗼𝗺𝗶𝗲𝒉𝗼𝗽𝗽𝗲𝗿𝒛 ˃o˂#this was so wonderful i could rant about it for ages#i love lili&thisfic 😵💫😵💫😵💫#sososo talented!!!#thats my girl <3
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FOR ALL TRANS PEOPLE IN FLORIDA
Hi. I've been meaning to make a post like this for quite a long time now. As a person who's been trans in this state for... a while, I felt like I could be helpful by posting my catalogue of knowledge.
I also need to apologize in advance. I need to give you the facts and the current policies before I can give you the hope that you're looking for. I promise, there is hope. I swear it. But being well informed is my first priority for you right now, because it's the only thing I can do to make sure that you, the reader, stay safe. Okay?
Do me a favor and take a deep breath before you hit “Keep Reading,” alright?
The Facts.
Florida's bathroom laws are fucked. If you hear the term "Safety in Private Spaces Act" that is the exact law fucking trans people over. It was passed in 2023, and people are not afraid to use it. It only DIRECTLY applies to public state-owned buildings. If you attempt to enter a bathroom that does not match your sex, and you are at:
A public school
A state owned library
A state owned govt building (city hall, etc.)
Then you can, and likely WILL be arrested.
If you are in ANY restroom on the aforementioned properties, and are presenting as gender nonconforming, OR you're presenting as a gender that doesn't match the restroom you entered, you may still face harassment, and the police being contact anyways, although they won't have grounds for arrest. It's very much a lose-lose situation.
As someone who's worked at a public library in Florida for the past 5 years now, you can take all of the information above as a first hand reference.
While the "Safety in Private Spaces Act" is only DIRECTLY targeted at state owned & public buildings, private property needs to be taken at a case-by-case basis. People can still call the police, and if you're not certain that the people who own the location will defend you, it can be quite risky. Here's a list of common stores & restaurants and stuff that have protection policies in place for trans people using the restroom there (AKA, the GOOD ones).
Target
Starbucks
Barnes & Noble
Chipotle
Sears
Whole Foods
There's also this site: https://www.refugerestrooms.org where you plug in your address, and it lets you know if there are safe restrooms nearby. I believe it also has an app? I've heard some concerns about how often it's updated, but a resource is a resource. Also ALWAYS be careful when inputting your data (including your location) online. Be sure that the site is secure, and trusted by other members of the community to, you know, not be shipping off your data to corporations or the current government.
You can also look for businesses with "family restrooms" which people might give you a weird look if you leave one alone, but more often than not they'll just assume whatever happened was simply too embarrassing for a public stall. Disney property is also surprisingly quite good at those with their "companion restrooms" you'll sometimes see.
On the exact opposite end of the spectrum, I've made plenty of use of shiiiiiiiiiiiiiitty gas stations in my day. As in gas stations so tiny and run down in the middle of nowhere that they simply CANNOT AFFORD a second stall. It ain't hygienic by any stretch of the imagination, but neither is the back of a police cruiser.
Last resort, and I mean LAST resort, is personal bathrooms in the houses of allies. If you have a trusted support group, and their addresses, congratulations, consider that your gender-neutral bathroom map. They're almost assuredly not convenient, but some days they're the ONLY comfortable places to go.
Trans people are twice as likely to get a UTI in their life as cis people, simply from trying not to use a restroom. So first and foremost, please please please stay safe out there.
Second order of note is HRT.
I feel the need to very explicitly say DIY HORMONES CAN BE VERY DANGEROUS. You need consistent bloodwork done to make sure your body is handling the treatment properly. In addition, improper dosage can lead to a bunch of awful symptoms, including tolerance to the medication. Please, work with a physician who can make sure you stay safe, don't do DIY unless it's your absolute last resort.
ITS ALSO VERY IMPORTANT TO NOTE, that if you're a minor, you cannot begin gender affirming care in Florida, and if you are caught with it, Florida authorities have grounds to revoke your parents' custody. That is shit. I know that is shit. I was very recently a minor tearing my hair out trying to get HRT. While I'm now legally considered """an adult""", I still very very very much feel that pain. Comments are open if you'd like to scream a bit.
For people over 18, there are a bunch of additional restrictions in place for setting up care. First of all, with the informed consent model, you need to sign all of the paperwork *in-person* with the prescribing physician, which completely cuts out any Telehealth options. You'll also be pretty hard pressed to FIND a clinic willing to prescribe it.
I can't personally recommend Plume. I was on a several month long waiting list, only to have my appointment cancelled because a bill went into effect the week before I was supposed to go sign the informed consent paperwork. That being said, I know too many trans people here who LOVE Plume to denounce it. The pricing and services it offers sounds almost too good. The organization has helped a lot of people, so the most I can say is:
1: Do your research.
2: Don't feel tied down if it doesn't work out.
If you want to know how I, personally, started my care, I think it's now time to switch over from the Facts to the Hope.
The Hope.
Planned Parenthood.
I made my first appointment in South Carolina to try and circumvent that law that cancelled my Plume appointment. You'll want to do your research on what Planned Parenthood location you're going to, because not all of them provide the same services. That being said... worse case scenario... South Carolina really ain't too far away, as long as you've got a free weekend for a road trip there and back.
I'm getting off track, Planned Parenthood is amazing. The people there are REALLY nice. My physician very much has an "OH MY GOD YOU'RE GONNA LOVE IT" energy about her.
I scheduled my first appointment just a week out, though timing may vary now that a lot more pressure is being put on them. Hours after my first appointment I had both estradiol and spironolactone physically in my hands, and the biggest dorky grin on my face.
In terms of access, this is probably one of the BEST options at your disposal. Please be sure to do some research beforehand about appointment costs, and medication costs, especially since insurance REALLY isn't going to want to cover it.
Once you're ready, mentally and financially, the power to get GAHT is in your hands.
Also, now when I take their post-appointment survey, I can say "yes, I would recommend this location to someone else" :D
A lot of public universities have been implementing more gender neutral bathrooms, and can potentially even provide you a map of where they are on campus if you ask.
Name change forms are also easily accessible for most schools if you ask, both for social recognition with teachers, and digital changes in academic portals and websites.
While LGBTQ+ oppression hasn’t gone down, neither has our fighting. You’ll see more pride pins and flags than ever, especially in the cities.
If you need mental/emotional help or support, I can't recommend anyone more than the Trevor Project:
https://www.thetrevorproject.org
Their help hotline is entirely confidential. Life as a trans person is hella stressful, and living in Florida can make that a lot worse. Whatever you're going through right now, I can tell you that there are people ready and willing to accept you and care for you.
I've also gotten glowing reviews from my sibling about the Orlando Youth Alliance. If you're a trans minor in Florida, you may not be able to get HRT... but you can occasionally get a trip to Disney World.
https://orlandoyouthalliance.org
Lastly, if you're out and about in Florida, and you see a girl in a black-grey hoodie, a big chunky heart necklace, and 1/2 peach colored hair dye, feel free to go up to her and tell her "I like your shoelaces," and you can get a free hug, no questions asked.
Keeping Tabs.
I'm gonna do my best to keep updating this post as much as I can. I've assuredly forgotten something. News details and policy updates will be my main focus. If you think of something important you'd like me to add, please don't hesitate to let me know
#transgender#trans community#trans pride#trans positivity#lgbt pride#pride#lgbtqia#lgbtq community#lgbtq#florida
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Had an idea and wanted to pester you about it (I’m kidding, I hope I’m not actually pestering you). What if you were to write a cute snow day blurb for Stug? Set in between S3 and S4? I ask because it’s currently snowing where I’m at and just thought “dang, that’d be so cute.”
you could never pester me i loooove answering blurbs <33 now if i may pester you i changed the timeline to between seasons 2 and 3 because i couldnt resist the idea of pre-dating steve n bug playing in the snow together n being all shy n cutie ugh
enjoy !
"its snowing," steve leans your desk chair back, nearly tipping over completely as he peers out your window. "like. a lot."
theres a mound of assignments on your desk and you only spare a quick glance outside. "oh," your absent minded tone doesnt go unnoticed by steve. "thats nice."
he narrows his eyes. "i thought you loved snow."
"i do," this time more genuineness comes through your voice. you look outside again and ache when you see just how snow has fallen. "but..."
your head tilts down to the work scattered between you and steve. youre insanely behind on calculus assignments and steve has a lab report three weeks overdue and today is the first real day your injuries from demodogs and billy have healed enough to even attempt to understand what a derivative is.
jonathan is stuck at home taking care of will and promised you hed help you with the math as soon as he was able, but now, with all the snow that inevitably will block the roads, you know youre doomed.
steve sees the stress that tenses your spine and an idea pops into his head. he snatches the homework from you and is running out of your room.
"what the-?" but hes already gone, annoyingly fast when he wants to be.
you run after steve, having no other option, really, and find him and dustin rushing to put their coats on.
"shes here!" dustin screeches when he sees you. he shoves at steve, urging him to hurry up, and your mother watches fondly from the kitchen.
you push past your brother. "what is happening?"
steve zips up coat and winks at you, giving no response other than flinging the front door open and chasing dustin through the snow. theyre gone in a heartbeat, giggling like children as they fucking prance through the falling snow.
"id join them if i were you, y/n." your mom says with a slight chuckle. "steve told me to hide your homework until you were 'soaked in snowflakes'."
your jaw drops. "mom-"
"im sorry, sweet girl." she laughs at you now. "blame that handsome boy of yours and go play with your brother outside. itll be good to get some fresh air!"
"but-"
"wear a coat!"
and then your mother shuts her bedroom door, leaving you to watch steve tackle dustin into the snow as they shriek and wrestle in the slippery ground.
"my eye!" steve squeals in pain, rolling around, and dustin giggles menacingly. feeling your eyes on him, steve flings a distressed hand towards you. "y/n, help a guy out here, would ya?"
even though he cant see you, you still roll your eyes at steve. dustin echoes his own sentiments of wanting you to join. the boys plead with you over and over and youre weak to them.
sighing, you grab your heaviest coat. "if either one of you even thinks about tackling me, youre dead."
dustin salutes you. "yes, ma'am."
you help steve up. his hand is cold and his nose red and eyes shining and you cant help but giggle slightly at the sight of him. theres flecks of snow that line his brown hair and hes a delicate kind of pretty that rivals the spiral of snowflakes.
"saved me again, angel." he winks at you again, causing you to blush.
"shut up." you shove at his chest, avoiding his tender eyes. they reveal more to you than you know hes ready to admit.
steve laughs and dustin throws a snowball at your face and everything is warm and soft.
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﹂blurb masterlist
﹂if youd like to buy me a coffee ☕︎
#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x reader#ask#tyrian-witch#m speaks#m's writing#come home blurb#set in between seasons 2 and 3 !#babies babies BABIES :((((((
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