#Literally impossible to make anything respectable out of it

[sceletaflores]

well, all right i’m bad, but then you’re no prize either…

pair: joel miller x fem!reader

wc: 8.6k

contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, no ellie, general violence (only referenced), age gap (56/26), swearing, so many spacers lmao, not quite friends to lovers and not quite enemies to lovers but a weird other thing, kinda mean!joel for a good sec, dressing wounds, joel miller TUMMY, loss of virginity (reader is a virgin but she's not completely oblivious and weirdly infantile about it lmao), fingering (fem!receiving), p in v, unprotected sex whoops, size kink, belly bulging, pussy pronouns, porn with a tiny plot, no use of y/n.

nat’s note: well, i finally caved y’all. baby’s first tlou fic! this literally took me forever to write and even longer to post cause i was so terrified LMAO so please give me some grace if it’s shit and he’s ooc and timelines are a little fuzzy cause i barely know what i’m doing. thank you chickens love you mwah mwah mwah. kisses!

dividers by lovely @saradika-graphics!

joel found a lodge house…

You don’t know what you did to make Joel Miller hate you so much.

He's never outright said it, but you know it’s there—in every sharp glance, every clipped word, every deliberate avoidance.

Besides, his silence is worse than anything he could say. A quiet condemnation that settles in your chest like stone.

You tell yourself it doesn’t matter, that you don’t care what he thinks, but the truth is harder to swallow.

You do care—more than you want to admit. His approval, his respect, hell, even a sliver of kindness from him feels like an impossible prize you’ll never win.

And you hate yourself for wanting it. For needing it.

It's not just the weight of his disdain that eats at you, it's the not knowing why. God, do you wish you could ask him why.

What did you do to make him look at you like you’re some necessary evil he has to tolerate. Why does he hold some unspoken grudge that's manifested itself into something you couldn't dream of ever comprehending.

But the thought of confronting Joel feels like standing on the edge of a cliff, staring down into a void that might swallow you whole.

So instead, you do what you've always done. You keep your distance, try to match his indifference with your own, and tell yourself it’s better this way.

You were young when the outbreak hit, six years old.

You’re sure that’s part of it. That that’s how Joel sees you, as some bumbling, naive child who’s more of a hassle than anything else.

Another mouth to feed, another back to watch, baggage.

You've been with him for almost seven months now, traveling side by side when you may have well been miles apart. Trekking through abandoned cities, overgrown highways, and every godforsaken patch of wilderness in between.

In the beginning, you did everything you could to prove him wrong.

You pushed yourself past your limits, hunted, scavenged, fought, kept up. You did everything that needed to be done without hesitation.

All to show that you were more than what he made you out to be. It never seemed to matter much.

After you lost your parents in the early days of the outbreak, it was just you and your sister. She taught you everything you know, taught you how to survive.

It's because of her that you know how to shoot a rifle, how to skin a rabbit, how to start a fire with nothing but sticks and dried moss, how to snap bones and locate which vital arteries bleed out the quickest.

It's because of her that you've been able to hone some sick skill in the maiming of clickers.

A skill you never thought you'd need to use on her.

You were supposed to be safe in the QZ. You weren't supposed to be fifteen years old, aiming a gun at the one person you had left.

Your own flesh and blood wasn't supposed to be the very first in a long list of red tallies under your belt.

It’s been years and you’ve still never forgotten that day. December 19th, 2012, the date burned into your brain like someone took a branding iron to the tissue.

You can’t count the amount of times you’ve been ripped from your sleep drenched in a cold sweat with the tail end of a scream tearing at the skin of your throat.

The image of what was left of your sister, slumped on the ground lifeless as her blood painted the wall behind her flashing behind your closed eyelids. The sound of her last labored breath ringing in your ears louder than any shotgun blast.

You ran that same night, with the weight of her death on your shoulders.

Your entire world spinning out around you as you clawed through barbed wire fencing, not caring where you were going or what would happen to you—just needing to escape.

There was nothing left for you to do after that but survive. And that’s what you did, for years, scraping by in a world that had already chewed you up and spit you out a mangled mess.

You learned how to be ruthless because of it.

How to harden yourself against the loss, the pain, the brutality. But there were cracks, too. Cracks you hid well, buried deep beneath layers of stubbornness and distance.

The endless days blurred into each other. Empty houses, hollow streets. A life reduced to scavenging, hiding, and the occasional, fleeting moment of human connection that inevitably ended in loss. 

And then you found yourself with Joel.

You hadn’t exactly found him, though. More like crashed into his orbit by accident.

A few desperate days spent scavenging through the ruins of a small town, a chance encounter that left you both wary and unwilling to turn your backs.

But, inexplicably, you somehow became part of his traveling routine.

He wasn’t like any of the others you’d met before. At first, you thought he might be different. A man who seemed broken, but different nonetheless.

As the days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, you began to see the truth. Joel Miller wasn’t concerned with you. He didn’t need you. And, more than that, he didn’t want you around. 

You didn’t know what to do with that.

It’s a bitter kind of irony. You’ve survived all this time completely on your own, fought tooth and nail to stay alive, but with him, you might just crumble.

Joel found a lodge house. It's a small, weathered place tucked away in the dense trees of the wood surrounding it.

He only deemed it suitable after an extensive perimeter check and a thorough sweep of the interior.

It's not much—just another run-down place in the middle of nowhere—but for the first time in what feels like forever, it’s a roof over your head for the night.

The walls are sturdy, though the windows are cracked and half of the floorboards creak like they're about to give out at any moment.

You explored the second floor alone, creeping through the desolate rooms and taking in all that was left behind.

Old family photographs covered in thick layers of dust, worn clothes riddled with holes still hung in the few closets you stumble across.

The oddest of all was an old jewelry box tucked away in a dresser draw, tarnished silver dull and muddy.

The sound of familiar footsteps comes from somewhere behind you. The door creaks open slowly.

Joel. Of course.

He clears his throat, the sound abrasive in the quiet of the house.  

“Fire’s low,” he says, voice rough from its lack of use today.

You don’t turn around, not yet. You take the box in your gloved hand, running your fingers across the intricate design of the lid, touch trailing over winding vines and small roses.

“Okay,” you mutter, your voice coming out quieter than you intended. “I’ll grab some more wood later.”

Another beat of silence. Then, “It’s gettin’ cold out, I’ll go.”

Your fingers pause their ministrations, moving to flip the lid open. Empty.

“Suit yourself,” you reply after a moment, your tone just as neutral as his.

Joel doesn’t leave right away. You hear the floorboards groan beneath his weight, his presence lingering in the doorway. 

You wonder what he’s waiting for, or if he’s waiting at all.

Finally, he speaks. “Don’t touch anything.”

With that he turns and leaves the room, you wait until you can’t hear his footsteps trailing down the stairs anymore to let out the scoff festering in your chest.

You snap the jewelry lid shut with a little more force than necessary. “Asshole.”

Joel's been gone for a while now. Longer than it takes to chop a few logs for firewood.

You came down from the upstairs a few minutes after hearing the tell-tale sound of the heavy door opening and closing. The main room is quiet, save for the soft crackle of the dwindling fire.

You're perched on an old armchair near the entrance, peering out the dirty window that has the best view of the treeline as you nervously pick the skin around your nails.

You tell yourself not to worry. He’s probably fine, he’s been doing this a lot longer than you. And if Joel is anything, it’s annoyingly competent.

Still, a nagging doubt itches at the back of your mind. It's been at least half an hour, maybe more.

You’re just about to grab your own pack and go looking for him when the front door creaks open.

Joel stumbles inside, the frigid evening air rushing in behind him before he slams the door shut. At first glance, he looks fine—no more haggard than usual. 

But then you notice the way he favors his left side, the way his free hand is pressed against his ribs, blood seeping through his fingers and staining his torn undershirt.

You’re on your feet in an instant.

“Fuck,” you say, voice sharper than you expected. “What the hell happened?”

“Raiders.” Is the only explanation you get as he tries to brush past you like it’s nothing. The stiff way he moves and the tightens of his jaw betray him. “S’just a scratch.”

“Bullshit,” you snap, stepping in front of him and blocking his path to the fire. “Sit. Now.”

He gives you a look, one of those deep, withering glares you’ve seen him use to intimidate countless others into submission. But you stand your ground, chin raised and jaw set–defiant. 

His stubbornness finally meeting its match in your own. 

Finally, with a low growl of frustration, he drops onto the couch. “Happy now?”

"Not until you let me take care of that." You motion toward his side, where the blood is still spreading.

“I’m fine,” he mutters, lolling his head back to rest more heavily on the couch.

“Sure you are,” you snap, crossing the room to rifle through your bag. “And I’m the fucking Queen of England.”

"Said I’m fine," he bites through gritted teeth, but you’re already moving, heading back to him with the first aid kit from your pack.

"You want to bleed out on this ugly-ass couch? Be my guest," you shoot back, dropping to your knees in front of him. "Otherwise, shut up and let me help."

Joel surprisingly doesn’t argue any further, just sighs heavily and reluctantly sinks further into the couch cushions.

You push the front of his jacket open to slide it off his shoulders as gently as you can, peeling back the layer of his flannel next.

The smell of blood hits you immediately.

The gash is about five inches long, trailing the span of his ribcage. It’s deep—but not fatal—just an angry red and oozing blood.

Definitely not the simple 'scratch' he made it out to be.

Your stomach churns at the sight, but you push it down. No time for that.

“Jesus, Joel,” you mutter under your breath, reaching for the alcohol in your kit. “You really know how to underplay a situation, huh?”

He doesn’t respond, just watches you with those dark, calculating eyes of his. Always watching, always assessing.

It’s unnerving, but you focus on the task at hand, grabbing a clean cloth and soaking it with alcohol.

“This is gonna hurt,” you warn, though there’s a part of you that doesn’t mind the idea of causing him a little discomfort.

A petty, vindictive part that still stings from all the scorn he’s thrown your way.

“Just get it over with,” Joel grits out, his voice low and gravelly.

You don’t give him any more warnings as you wipe the soaked cloth over the wound. He flinches, a harsh curse slipping through clenched teeth, but he doesn’t pull away.

You work as quickly as you can, wiping away the blood and dirt with steady hands, your movements as gentle as possible given the situation.

You let out an annoyed huff when the torn fabric of his shirt gets in the way of your hands for a second time.

You lean back on your heels, glancing up at Joel. “You need to take your shirt off.”

Joel raises a brow at you, his lips pressing into a thin line. “That really necessary?”

“Yes, it’s necessary, Joel,” you huff, already losing patience. “Unless you want me to sit here and cut around every thread of this ratty thing while you bleed out, then by all means—”

He sighs heavily, cutting you off as he shifts forward and grabs the hem of his shirt. He tugs at the fabric, grunting in pain each time it strains his ribs.

You roll your eyes at how slow he’s moving, and your patience—already worn thin by the day's events—snaps.

“Jesus Christ, let me help,” you huff, reaching forward and grabbing the fabric.

Joel jerks back slightly, his hand shooting up to stop yours mid-motion. “I got it,” he growls, a sharp edge in his voice.

You glare at him, your hand still caught in his grip. His palm is calloused, his hold firm enough to make your pulse jump unexpectedly. 

For a moment, the two of you just sit there, locked in a silent standoff.

Then he releases your hand and pulls the shirt over his head himself, wincing as the movement pulls at his side.

You wait with your arms crossed, trying to ignore the awkward flutter of nerves in your stomach as the fabric peels away to reveal his chest.

Joel’s broad, solid frame isn’t new to you. You’ve seen him shirtless before—brief glimpses when bathing in rivers or changing in run down houses between stops.

But this time feels different, more intimate somehow.

You’re staring, and you know it.

The firelight cast shadows over his skin, illuminating old scars, faint lines of muscle, the barely there jut of his stomach over the hem of his jeans.

You had been getting more game kills recently, two hunters are always better than one.

Joel clears his throat, dragging your focus back to the present. “You gonna gawk all night, or can we move this along?”

You snap out of it, scowling to cover your embarrassment. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t get your panties in a twist.”

You finish cleaning the gash and grab the small needle and thread lying next to you.

“This’ll hurt worse than the alcohol,” you say, threading the needle easily.

Joel snorts, a rare sound. “Figures.”

The needle pierces his skin, and this time, you catch the smallest hitch in his breath. He doesn’t make a sound, but his jaw tightens, the veins in his neck standing out like cords.

His hands grip the edge of the couch hard enough that his knuckles turn white with it, but he doesn’t tell you to stop or slow down.

He’s too damn proud for that.

You shift closer, your knee brushing against his leg as you position yourself to work from a better angle. You feel his eyes on you, that intense, scrutinizing stare that makes your skin prickle.

“You’ve done this before,” Joel says after a moment, his tone less sharp than before. It’s not quite a question, more of an observation.

You shrug, keeping your hands steady. “Of course I have.”

“Who taught you?”

The question catches you off guard, Joel’s never shown much interest in what your life was before you met him. You glance up briefly, catching his gaze. There’s no malice there, no judgment—just curiosity.

You swallow hard, dragging your eyes back to stitches, half way done now. “My sister.”

You don’t elaborate and Joel doesn’t push.

Maybe it’s the sudden tightness in your tone or the look you know must be clouding your face that keeps him quiet.

You finish off the stitching, tearing the thin strand of thread with your hands before you’re leaning away again.

“Good as new,” you say, dabbing some more alcohol on your own hands to disinfect. “Try not to tear these open anytime soon.”

Joel leans back, strong arms spread across the back of the couch, his face unreadable as he peers down at the fresh stitching on his side. 

“Could’ve done it myself,” he mutters, but the edge in his voice is gone, replaced with something softer, almost resigned. 

You roll your eyes with a scoff, not even trying to hide your irritation as you rise from the floor. “Sure you could’ve, right before you passed out. You’re welcome by the way.”

You gather your supplies and turn to head back to your bag, but Joel’s voice stops you in your tracks.

“You’re always like this, y’know,” he says, and the words carry that same gravelly drawl, but there’s something new there—something heavier.

You pause, your hands tightening around the kit in your grasp. “Like what?”

“Pushy. Stubborn,” he replies, his tone cutting, though it lacks the usual venom. “Like you’ve got somethin’ to prove all the damn time.”

You whip around, your patience officially gone. “You think I’m stubborn?” you shoot back, your voice rising. “Coming from the guy who would rather bleed out on a fucking couch than admit he needs help?”

Joel’s jaw tightens, and his hands flex against the couch cushions, but you don’t stop. Not now. Not after months of this.

“I’ve been busting my ass since day one to prove that I’m not dead weight to you. I’ve fought for us, for you. And for what? Just to get more of your bullshit attitude?”

“You don’t know what the hell you’re talkin’ about,” Joel snaps, pushing himself upright despite the obvious strain it puts on his freshly stitched wound. “You don’t know a goddamn thing about me.”

“Because you won’t let me!” you fire back, stepping closer, your voice rising. “All you do is look at me like I’m some burden you can’t wait to get rid of.”

Joel’s glare sharpens, his lips parting as if to respond, but you cut him off.

You really can’t stop yourself now that you started, all the anger and frustration reaching a fever pitch hot enough to burst the tight lid you’ve kept on your emotions.

“If I’m such a hassle, why didn’t you just leave me back there, huh? Why didn’t you just walk away like I know you wanted to?”

Joel’s breathing is heavier now,  his broad chest rising and falling as his dark eyes bore into yours.

For a moment, he doesn’t say anything. Then, he stands, and the sheer size of him forces you to tilt your chin up slightly to keep your glare fixed on his face.

“You think I wanted this, kid?” he growls, his voice low and strained, like he’s barely holding himself together. “You think I wanted to be responsible for someone else? To have someone else’s fuckin’ life on me?”

“Don’t call me kid,” you spit, shoving a finger into his chest, ignoring the way his jaw ticks at the contact. “I’m not a fucking kid.”

He scoffs, casting his eyes to the ceiling disbelievingly. “Could’ve fooled me.”

“Fuck you, Joel,” you growl, fists clenching at your side. “If you hate me that much, why the hell are you still here? Why didn’t you tell me to fuck off the second you met me?”

“Because I couldn’t!” Joel snaps, booming voice filling the small space.

The confession slips out like it pains him. His fists clench at his sides, and for a moment, he looks like he might break something.

You’ve never been scared of Joel, even though you’ve seen first hand just how scary he can be.

Now, as he looms in front of you, eyes blazing and jaw working furiously beneath his skin, it’s the closest to scared you’ve felt.

“I’ve seen you out there,” he continues, tone low and dark. “You’ve got a fuckin’ death wish. You’re too damn stubborn to just stop, and I’m not gonna let you go so you can run off and get yourself fuckin’ killed.”

Your heart pounds in your chest, his words hitting far too close to home.

“I’m just trying to survive, Joel,” you snap, your voice shaking. “That’s what we do, isn’t it? Survive.”

“Survive,” Joel repeats bitterly, his gaze burning into yours. “That what you call it? Throwin’ yourself into every goddamn fight, gettin’ stabbed and shot right fuckin’ in front of me and expecting me to brush that shit off?”

You let out a humorless laugh, nodding your head exasperatedly. “Yes, yes I do expect you to just brush it off, because that’s what you always do.” 

“Well I can’t,” he grates out, taking a step closer. “I can’t ‘cause despite whatever it is that you may think about me, I don’t hate you. I care about you too damn much and that's my goddamn problem.”

That shuts you up, your mouth snapping closed with a sharp click of your teeth as you stare at him, shocked.

Joel holds your gaze, lips pressed into a thin line. “That what you wanted to hear?”

It’s in that moment that the fire finally fizzles out, the dull hiss of it the only sound left in the room.

You’re quiet for a beat, stunned into silence. The heat of his anger, his frustration, it radiates off him, and you realize suddenly that this isn’t just about you. 

It never was.

“Then show me,” you challenge softly, your heart pounding in your chest. “Show me that you don’t hate me.”

Joel’s eyes darken, his head cocking to the side as he searches your face for a sign. You don’t say anything, you only square your shoulders and raise your chin, your eyes just as hard as his own.

“I want you to prove it.”

The tension snaps like a rubber band stretched too far. 

You shouldn’t—this shouldn’t—happen. Not like this. Not after everything that’s been said.

But when Joel’s lips crash against yours, hot and desperate and urgent, it makes everything blur into nothing. 

It’s not gentle, not soft—this is anger and longing and frustration all wrapped into one. It’s messy, frantic, like a fight that’s been brewing for too long.

He grips your arm, pulling you closer, almost too roughly, but it feels like it’s everything you’ve both been avoiding.

His other hand moves to cup the back of your neck, grounding you as his lips press harder against yours, like he��s trying to pour everything he can’t say into this single moment.

You respond just as fiercely, nails digging into the skin of his shoulders as you kiss him back with all the pent-up emotion that’s been simmering beneath the surface.

The coarse hair of his beard scrapes against the skin of your chin deliciously, the scent of blood and firewood filling your senses as his arm wraps around your waist, dragging you impossibly closer.

Close enough that you can feel the wild beat of his heart booming against your chest.

You pull away for a second, breathless, both of you looking at each other, your eyes wide and pupils blown.

“Goddamn it,” Joel mutters, his voice thick with frustration and something else you can’t place. He presses his forehead to yours, the deep brown of his eyes dark than before. “What the hell are we doing?”

You don’t have an answer. You’re not sure if you even want one.

You reach for him again, arms looping around his neck to drag his mouth back to yours.

This kiss is nothing like the first, it isn’t a clash of frustration–it’s filthier, rawer. A near feral thing, all teeth and tongue, a surge of hunger and need that borders on violence. 

Joel groans into your mouth, a low, guttural sound that sends a shiver racing down your spine. His teeth catch your bottom lip, pulling just hard enough to make you gasp.

He takes advantage of the sound, his tongue sweeping into your mouth to slide against yours with wet, messy desperation, like he’s trying to claim every inch of you.

The taste of him—salt and iron and something distinctly Joel—makes your head spin. 

Your fingers knot into the chocolaty curls at the nape of his neck, surprisingly soft to the touch. His own hands roam the soft curves of your body, rough and insistent, like he can’t decide where he wants to touch you most.

“Joel—” His name spills from your lips like a plea, and he answers with a deep, guttural noise that sends heat pooling low in your belly. His tongue follows the path of his teeth, soothing the bites with lazy, deliberate strokes that make your knees weak.

You’re moving before you even realize it. Joel dragging you across the room and down onto the couch with him, using the strength he’s built up after all these years to manhandle you until your thighs are spread wide on either side of his lap.

“Joel,” you gasp again, rearing back enough to break the kiss. “Your stitches–”

He cuts you off with a sharp nip to the sensitive spot behind your ear, tearing a high whine from your throat. “Can hardly feel ‘em.”

You make a displeased sound, but it’s undermined by the way you tilt your head to give his wandering lips more room. His hands find a home on your hips, one slipping beneath your shirt to press against the soft skin of your stomach. 

His fingers splay wide across your skin, his palm callused and rough. His pinky just barely brushes the underside of your breast, and you’re suddenly rearing back. 

“Wait,” you say, your voice barely a whisper.

Joel’s hands immediately loosen their grip on your hips, his brows knitting together in concern. “You okay?”

You nod quickly, your heart pounding in your chest. “I just...I need to tell you something.”

His jaw tightens slightly, but he stays quiet, waiting for you to speak.

You take a beat, chewing at the skin of your bottom lip nervously.

“I’ve never...” You pause, swallowing hard as your cheeks heat up. “I’ve never done this before. I mean, I’ve never been with anyone like this.”

Joel pulls back slightly, his expression unreadable as he processes your words. For a moment, you think he might pull away completely, but then he exhales a long, slow breath.

“Christ,” he mutters, scrubbing a hand down his face. “You’re tellin’ me this now?”

“I didn’t exactly plan for this to happen,” you snap back, crossing your arms over your chest defensively. “It’s not like I had the luxury of a high school sweetheart to pop my cherry out here.”

Joel’s gaze softens at your tone, and he reaches out to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing against your skin. “Hey, hey, I didn’t mean it like that.”

You glance away, suddenly feeling self-conscious under the weight of his stare. “I just...I wanted you to know. But I want this, Joel. I want you.”

His thumb stills against your cheek, and he swallows hard, his adam’s apple bobbing as he considers your words.

“I don’t...” He pauses, the most hesitant you’ve ever heard him. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

It’s the most vulnerable he’s been around you, round eyes shining with something so raw and so earnest it makes your heart ache in your chest. 

“You won’t,” you insist, your voice steady despite the nerves fluttering in your stomach. “I trust you.”

Joel’s jaw clenches, and for a moment, he looks like he’s going to argue. But then he nods, his shoulders relaxing as he cups the back of your neck, pulling you closer until your foreheads touch again.

“At least let me do this right,” he murmurs, his voice so soft you almost don’t hear it. “Not here. Not on some goddamn couch.”

You blink up at him, surprised by the tenderness in his tone. “What?”

“Upstairs,” he says, his thumb tracing lazy circles against the side of your neck. “There’s a bed up there. It ain’t much, but it’s better than this.”

You can’t do anything but nod, your pulse racing beneath your skin fast enough to combat the cold night air seeping through the walls.

“Okay,” you say softly, voice barely above a whisper. “Upstairs.”

Joel stands, gently pulling you to feet and taking your hand in his. He leads you upstairs, each step feeling heavier with anticipation. The small bedroom is dimly lit, the faint glow of moonlight filtering through a broken blind. 

The bed isn’t much—an old mattress on a worn frame, covered with a patched-up blanket—but it doesn’t matter.

Joel shuts the door behind you, the sound of the latch clicking into place sending a shiver down your spine.

“Last chance,” he says, his voice a low rumble. “You say the word, and we stop. No questions asked.”

Your throat tightens at the sincerity in his tone, the way he’s giving you an out even though you can see the strain in every line of his body, the way his hands flex at his sides like he wants nothing more than to reach out and touch you.

But you don’t hesitate.

You step closer, placing your hands on his bare chest. You bite back a smile at the goosebumps that break out all along his skin at your touch. 

“Jesus, Miller,” you mumble teasingly, nails lightly scratching through the salt and pepper hair scattered along his chest. “How long are you gonna drag this out before you get it through your thick skull that I want to fuck you?”

"Christ." Joel huffs, shaking his head as the corners of his lips turn up in a small grin. “Like I fuckin’ said,” he starts, big hands kneading the meat of your hips. “Pushy.”

Joel walks you backward until the backs of your knees hit the edge of the bed, and you fall onto it with a soft gasp.

He follows you immediately, crawling over you, his body covering yours, his weight a comforting pressure. “I’ll take care of you,” he murmurs, his lips brushing yours. “I’ll make it good for you, I swear.”

His fingers are everywhere, unbuttoning your shirt with a practiced ease that has your pulse racing. His lips follow the path of his hands, each touch a branding mark, each kiss leaving you wanting more.

“Pretty girl,” he mutters softly, pressing a kiss right between the valley of your breasts.

You feel his cock stirring against your stomach, and it makes the ache between your legs flare to life, the weight of it, the hardness of it, driving you crazy with need. 

You want him so badly you can barely think straight, but when his lips graze over your collarbone, you can’t stop the quiet whine that escapes your throat.

Joel growls in response, a sound that resonates deep in his chest, and you know then that he’s as far gone as you are. His hands slide down to the waistband of your pants, tugging them down your legs with urgency. 

As your skin is exposed to the cool air, you can feel the heat of his gaze on you, like he’s memorizing every inch of you.

“You’re fuckin' perfect,” he mutters, his voice thick with desire.

Joel's hands find your thighs, parting them with a deliberate slowness that makes your breath catch in your throat. He positions himself between your legs, his body weight pressing you into the mattress, his chest rising and falling with the same frantic rhythm as yours. 

The anticipation is almost unbearable as his fingers trace the line of your panties, the fabric damp with want.

“Jesus, she’s drippin’ for me already,” he mutters, voice rough, as he slides the material to the side, his thumb brushing over the sensitive swell of your clit.

Your body jerks at the contact, a desperate sound escaping your lips, but Joel doesn’t relent.

“You touch yourself down here, baby?” he asks, working tortuously slow circles over your clit.

"Please," you beg, your hands grasping at the sheets, pulling at them as if they can anchor you to the moment.

He looks up at you, his gaze dark and filled with an intensity that makes your stomach tighten. “Asked you a question, honey.”

You whine, high and loud in your throat as your thighs clench desperately around his wrist. “Yes, I touch myself.”

Joel’s lips curl into a satisfied grin, sliding his thick index finger through the messy wetness to slip inside your clenching hole, making you gasp. Your hands grasp at the sheets, pulling at them as if they can anchor you to the moment.

“Good girl,” he breathes, eyes darkening at the broken moan that bursts from your lips. “When’s the last time you touched yourself?”

Your brain feels hazy as you search for the answer, pleasure clouding your mind slow and sweet as molasses. “A–a few nights ago.”

Joel hums idly, slipping a second finger alongside the first. The stretch has you whining, his fingers a lot more to take than your own.

Your hands come up to claw at his shoulders, relishing in the way his broad muscle ripples and shifts beneath your greedy palms.

“Joel,” you whine, hips canting down against his hand impatiently.

He just shushes you softly, free hand brushing soothing circles along the skin of your inner thigh. “I know, honey,” he mutters, the pace fingers speeding up. “But I gotta get her nice and ready if you wanna take my cock.”

The gush of your pussy around his fingers is loud in the stillness of the room, a filthy wet noise that burns your ears each time he plunges them into your aching hole.

“I am ready.” Your breath hitches as your body begins to tremble beneath him. “Please, Joel—fuck—please, I need—”

“Need what?” His voice is thick with dark amusement, but there's a hunger in his eyes that has your stomach twisting. “Tell me, baby. What do you need?”

“I need you,” you rasp, your nails digging little crescent moons into his skin, your body pleading for release. “I need you inside me.”

Your hands grab at his hair, pulling him back up to meet your lips in a feverish kiss. 

The pressure of his body on yours, the way his hard cock grinds against your trembling thigh, drives you to the brink of madness. 

Your hands trail down his chest, past the waistband of his jeans, finally reaching the bulge straining against the fabric.

Joel groans when you rub him through his pants, feeling his cock twitch in response. He pulls back, breathing heavily, his lips curling into a smirk. 

“Yeah?” he asks, his voice thick with lust. “You want my cock in this pretty pussy? Want me to show you how good it feels to be fucked?”

“God, yes,” you answer, desperation lacing your tone as your hand moves to unbuckle his jeans. “Want it so bad.”

He lets you push his pants down just enough to free his cock, and you gasp, your eyes drawn to the way his length stands, thick and hard, just waiting for you. The tip flushed an angry red, drooling pre-come onto the scratchy sheets.

Joel pulls his fingers from you, using his hands spreading your legs wider, positioning himself between them with such careful precision that you can barely stand it.

The head of his cock drags through the mess between your legs, slipping all the way down till it catches on your soaked entrance.

Joel pauses, looking down at you, waiting for your signal, but the only answer you give is a pleading whimper, your hands pulling at his shoulders, urging him to move.

His mouth captures yours once again as he slowly slides into you, the stretch of his cock filling you steadily, making you gasp into his mouth. 

The slow burn of him carving a place for himself inside of you is almost too much, your body trembling as you adjust to the feeling of him.

“Fuck, baby,” Joel mutters against your lips. “You’re so tight, so fuckin’ perfect for me.”

As he sinks deeper into you, his thick cock finally buried to the hilt inside of you, the feeling is overwhelming. You gasp, nails digging into his back as the pain slowly shifts into pleasure.

Joel groans into your mouth, his hands moving to your hips, guiding you as he rocks gently against you. 

The rhythm is slow at first, deliberate, as if he's savoring every inch of you. Your body quivers beneath him, every inch of your skin tingling with sensation. You clutch at him, your legs tightening around his waist, needing more, wanting more.

"That's it," he murmurs, his voice thick with desire. "Take it, baby."

You screw your eyes shut tightly, trying to steady yourself as he thrusts deeper, harder. The angle shifts just enough to make your breath catch in your throat. 

Every stroke feels like it’s hitting the deepest part of you, sparking heat in places you never knew could burn so hot.

"Fuck," you gasp, the sensation too overwhelming, too much in the best way. "Joel... please..."

"Please what, sweetheart?" He pulls back slightly, teasing you with a slow roll of his hips before driving back in with a grunt.

Your nails dig into his shoulders, urging him to move faster, harder. "Don’t stop," you breathe, your voice trembling. "I need you to fuck me, Joel. Faster. Harder. Please."

The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room as Joel finally picks up the pace, each thrust harder and deeper than the last.

Your back arches off the bed, chest pressing flush to his as your body coils tighter and tighter, already so close to the edge.

Joel reaches up to take your wrist in his, dragging your hand down to press flat against your lower stomach.

“Feel that?” he asks breathlessly, the speed of his hips knocking the dingy bed frame into the wall with every thrust. “You feel how deep I am?”

His own hand blankets yours, pushing down so you can feel the way his cock punches up against your palm on the next thrust.

Your pussy clenches desperately around him at the feeling, your slick lips dropping open on a loud moan.

You can barely hold on. The heat in your stomach tightens, coiling painfully as your free hand scrambles to find purchase on his skin. "I can't—I'm gonna—"

He grits his teeth, his jaw clenched as he drives deeper, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. "Come for me, baby," he growls, his voice dark and commanding. "Let me feel it."

With a strangled cry, you finally release, your body clenching around him, every nerve igniting in a white-hot explosion of pleasure. 

You’re lost in it, your world spinning, your senses overwhelmed by the sensation of Joel’s body pounding into yours, the way his cock brushes against that sweet spot behind your clit enough to make sparks go off behind your eyelids.

Joel pulls out of your velvety warmth, hand coming up to fist his dripping length until he’s bowing over you tightly and coming with a deep groan of your name.

His release paints your stomach with milky strands of white, rope after rope of warm come claiming you in a way no one has before.

He finally collapses against you with one last shuddering breath, both of you breathing heavily, your chests rising and falling together in the quiet aftermath.

For a few moments, neither of you speaks, the only sounds are the soft creak of the bed and the quiet hum of your racing hearts. 

Joel rests his head against your shoulder, his breath warm against your skin, and you can feel the tension begin to slip away, the weight of everything that’s happened between you both settling into something new—something different, but still there.

Your hand slips down the sweaty expanse of your stomach, your fingers swiping through the sticky mess of his release curiously.

“Christ, quit that,” Joel groans, tearing his eyes away from the sight to press his forehead against your shoulder.

“Why?” you hum, brow raised in amusement as you drop your hand back to the mattress. “Can you even get it up again?”

Joel pinches your side hard enough to make you squeal, your body flinching away from him as a surprised laugh bubbles from your chest.

“Watch it,” he warns, though there’s no bite to his tone. You only laugh in response.

The two of you settle into a comfortable silence, wrapped in each other as crickets chirp from outside the window.

Then Joel clears his throat, fingers idly tracing different shapes on the skin of your hip as he gathers the courage to speak.

A circle, a square, a diamond, a circle, a heart, a heart, a heart.

“I’m…” he starts, trailing off softly. “I’m sorry. I’ve been a real fuckin’ prick, and you didn’t deserve it. You never did.”

You turn your own gaze to his chest, hand coming up so you can trail your fingers along the jagged scar decorating his shoulder. Your touch featherlight over the rough patch of skin.

All the anger seeps from your body, a heavy weight gone until you feel so light you could float off the mattress and into the cold night air.

“It’s okay,” you whisper softly, so soft you think it gets lost in the quiet darkness of the room. “I understand now.”

And for the first time in what feels like forever, you both just lay there, tangled in each other, not worrying about the world outside, about the chaos that waits. 

Just you, him, and the soft glow of moonlight.

tags are now in the comments! if you want to get tagged for any of my works just fill out this form!

mini nat's note: should i add joel to my taglist...i do kinda want to write more for him in the future but i'm not sure yet...lmk chickens <3 bee tee dubs sorry the ending absolutely sucks i could not for the life of me figure out how to end this LMAO

[the-one-and-only-taffie]

AHHHHHHHHHHH

Yeah, the two endlessly go back and forth about the advice White tries to give and Sentinel ignoring them because he's the King of Iacon. Why of all bots should he listen to someone who isn't even a bot? She ruled an empire once but gave it up for (what he believes to be) dumb reasons. Why bother?

Of course, White Diamond would feel out of place in Cybertron. The cultural and social practices are different. The language is completely foreign to her. She already struggles enough to relate to her own people, so trying to connect to sentient transforming car robots is practically impossible. Although the bots are kind and patient with White, she knows its only out of respect for their beloved leader. She feels very out of place and isolated even when she's by Sentinel's side, and he tries to make her feel more comfortable for the sake of her literally not being blue all the time. She has tried striking conversation with Airachnid, but she either doesn't acknowledge her or outright says she's under no obligation to speak with her. Airachnid straight up doesn't like White. This'll be elaborated upon in a future post.

For the rules thing, I imagine one of them is not interacting with the miners unless it's for an event or something. White suggests holding a party just for them to show their appreciation for their hard work, and Sentinel laughs. He doesn't see the point and jokingly remarks they'd drag dirt and grime everywhere and ruin all the beautifully polished banquet halls. White simply says they could wash the miners, and Sentinel says that wasn't his point. White argued that in the past, she did not see the point in celebrating the accomplishments of or showing appreciation towards the laboring gems because that was their job. What they were expected to do. They were not owed anything for doing the purpose they were literally made to perform. But she's learned that anyone, regardless of their social standing, deserves to be given their dues. If not, they'll feel unappreciated and then forget to appreciate themselves. White giving voice to the little gem strikes again! Sentinel looks at her like she said a Unicronic incantation and tells her that isn't happening. He doesn't like the idea that White would become more popular among the miners if she were to actively spend time with them. He also doesn't want her to witness or hear about how they're treated by the Transformers and upperclasses.

But yeah. Everything White suggests would go in one audial and out the other when it comes to Sentinel. He believes he knows what's best for Iacon compared to a literal alien, so he never takes her seriously and makes that very clear. White despises being ignored like this. Then she's has an epiphany. Was this was how she treated Pink? Of course, it was significantly more cruel and abusive, but progress is progress.

White making little crystal friends. Please. My heart. I remember how Steven brought a pebble to life with his own diamond essence/sweat in the episode Familiar. I wonder if that could work for White, maybe she accidentally created them out of loneliness. I'll have to do more research regarding that. Sentinel would hate them and view them as little pests. He can't release them either. That'd cause a stir. So he let's her keep them until she has to leave for one reason or another. He insists on her taking them all with her. White obliges, but she does miss a few which Sentinel tasks Airachnid to, uh, deal with them. Luckily, they're a lot more slippery than she thought, and White briefly returns to pick them up. Sentinel and his right servo femme pretend they didn't just try to shatter them 10 seconds ago.

Is a headcanon of a headcanon any less canon? Lmao good ending Prime Diamond is cursed to me cause niether of the goobers deserve it, in my humble opinion. But it is cute. Sentinel being the one to put his pride aside for the sake of maintaining the peace instead of White having to do that 24/7 (at least the best she can). He listens to her advice cause he's that curious to see how it'd pan out, mostly to prove her wrong if it doesn't. Then he realizes wait... listening to gf is??? Good??? Lo and behold, he begins to genuinely respect her. Imagining White and Sentinel growing to genuinely love each other and treat each other better despite their flaws... only to have it literally torn away from them. MUAH HA HA HA HA. Hilarious.

Anyway, White fighting the Quintessons hmmmm.... Idk how White would do in a fight cause she isn't a warrior. That's more Yellow Diamond's forte. Her weapon of choice is her words, but chances are the Quintessons aren't the most open to diplomacy unless its tons of energon neatly wrapped with a bow. I don't even know how her diamond powers could affect beings that aren't gems. It would be cool seeing her beat their asses though, and Sentinel definitely would not complain.

And Sentinel and White calling each other "My Prime" and "My Diamond" respectively... I'm using that. Thanks for the idea!

Back with more White Diamond x Sentinel Prime crackship nonsense baby!!!

Ever since I first thought about these goobers, I haven't known a single day of peace (mostly cause the ideas are just racking around in my brain)

So here's a list of headcanons I came up with for Prime Diamond! If you have any questions regarding this ship, my ask box is open. Double if you have any thoughts or anything to add, go on ahead! I hope y'all enjoy!

I may make a part 2 when I come up with more lol

For this relationship to even be possible (as possible as a crackship between two characters from completely different franchises can be), it will have to take place Post-Steven Universe Finale/Future when White Diamond is in her therapy, self-help guru era. And when Sentinel Prime is... alive.

Also, I have been trying to do research regarding this but since the results are so inconsistent, I'm gonna assume White Diamond is around 80 to 90 ft tall and Sentinel is around 60 (based on how he's double Orion Pax's height and apparently TF One Orion is around 33 ft tall). If you know their actual canonical heights or anything close to that, please lemme know!

As mentioned in a reblog, White Diamond would take an interest in Sentinel Prime as a sort of little DIY project. Though he tries to hide it, White with her supernatural intuitiveness can tell there's more to him than meets the eye (he's an asshole). Having been inspired by Steven to see the worth and beauty in imperfections, she wants to give someone like Sentinel a chance like Steven did for her. Though she is making genuine strides to improve upon her previous controlling and obsessive behavior regarding perfection, this aspect of her will resurface in her attempts "fix" Sentinel while in a relationship with him. She adores and finds much interest in his "positive imperfections," but helping him improve on his more negative ones wouldn't hurt, right?

Other reasons she developed an attraction to him is for the same reason all the Sentinel fangirls did: he's just so... pathetic. When he tries to impress her with stories of battles he's never fought in and gives her a tour of his treasure room full of artifacts he didn't discover, she can tell he's trying way too hard to impress her. She finds this cute and charming rather than douchey and desperate.

Sentinel Prime pursued her because, as stated in a previous reblog, "his diva ass was always going to try and seek out a gem fit for a king." He laid his eyes on an 80-90 ft giant alien rock woman and thought,"I need her." As any sane person would. She was supposed to be nothing more than another symbol of wealth for him to show off to the other elites and officials of Iacon City to further cement the royal image he works so hard to maintain. He definitely underestimated how overwhelming White Diamond can be, and I am not just referring to her height.

Sentinel would rather have his spark be extinguished than admit to this, but his stabilizing servos get wobbly at the idea of his alien girlfriend being so much taller than he is. His pride would never admit to this, nor would it accept someone taller than him accompanying him. He believes that as a "Prime," he is supposed to be much taller, bigger, and more imposing than those around them.

Whenever they make a public appearance, Sentinel insists that White shrink herself to a height more tolerable for his fragile ego. He bullshits an excuse about their buildings not being designed for a being as tall as she is. White obliges, but given how Iacon was built when the previous actual Primes were all gigantic and alive, she quickly figures his lie and confronts him about it. He'd just lie again and say he didn't want the other Cybertronians to be intimidated... by her beauty. Clearly, it's not because of some Napolean complex or something. Still, White in her patience era takes the compliment for what it is.

The "guy who doesn't like speeches" vs. "professional yapper" isn't a joke. Sentinel can't stand how much White Diamond loves to yap. She's the kind of person to have thoughts and opinions about anything and everything. Given that she doesn't breathe, she doesn't even need to catch her breath in the middle of speaking, so she can go on and on and on, much to Sentinel's annoyance.

He tries to get her to quiet down at times, but as White tends to do, she either doesn't hear him or straight up ignores him. Her monologuing, along with her height and just how shiny she is, is very overwhelming for Sentinel at times. The only good thing he finds about this aspect of his sweetspark is when she dotes on him and showers him with compliments and attention. As if a attention hungry fame whore needed any more of it.

Sentinel even allows White to indulge in her psychoanalysis, playing up the whole "tragic hero whose brothers and sisters perished in battle and now has to face the pain and weight of protecting his people alone" that she eats up. White does sometimes hit dangerously close to home, so Sentinel shuts her down before she could dig straight to bedrock and uncover the more unfavorable parts of himself he wants to stay hidden.

Speaking of staying hidden, the way White carries herself in public makes Sentinel was to keep her locked away in a jewelry box. White is excellent when it comes to using her words to inflict psychic damage or to build someone up. When it comes to social situations where charisma, relatability, and poise are needed, this is when White is at her most alien. She is not the most socially adjusted given that prior to the finale, she spent thousands of years hidden away in a world of her own delusions. She doesn't have much of a filter, something she has been working on to avoid upsetting offending others.

She has the habit of pointing out any interesting thing that catches her eye, especially about people, whether or not it's positive or negative. This has led to her unsettling the bots at best or offending them at worst. Sentinel then has to come in and use his charisma to difuse the situation and paint her behavior in a more positive light. Only for White to turn around and ask everyone if they ever noticed how Sentinel's wings move in accordance to his mood and how adorable it is. Everyone laughs. Sentinel is thoroughly pissed.

Sentinel definitely has more relationship experience than White Diamond. All of her knowledge comes from what she's heard from the gems that come to her for her advice or from that human show the little green Crystal Gem recommended (she can't remember her name). In her attempts to emulate the behavior of what she's heard of and observed, she ends up coming off as cringe at best or detached from reality. At certain points of the relationship, she even imposes certain "deadlines" on courtship behaviors she expects from Sentinel. All his previous relationships were private, casual flings. He only made this one public because bagging a bad bitch like White Diamond is an accomplishment he felt he had to show off.

This may come to bite him in the aft when her radiance catches the attention of other bots. On these occasions, he acts possessive and showers her with attention, gifts, and affection. He tells himself and Airachnid it's because he doesn't want her to outshine him in the eyes of the public. In reality, he gets jealous and doesn't want to lose her interest and, most importantly, her attention. As overwhelming and embarrassing as she can get, a twisted part of him really craves her attention.

In private, Sentinel can flip flop greatly in how he treats White. On some days he leans on her for support and wants her to pet his wings while he vents about all the dumb, annoying bots he has to fraternize with and all the boring meetings he has to attend. White occasionally interrupts him with advice or her own views on the situation, which frustrates Sentinel. On other days, he's completely detached, not even bothering to give her the time of day. He is at his most consistently sweet and romantic when they're both in the public eye, performing grand gestures of love. This intensifies when they're on camera.

They present themselves as THE Iacon couple, but Sentinel and White argue a lot about pretty much anything. More often than not, White is trying to advise him on how to improve himself and his city, and Sentinel kindly tells her to shut up and mind her own business.

They are both very prideful people who can't accept when they are wrong. White is more willing than Sentinel to admit to it and compromise. If she believes she is 100% in the right, she won't go down without a verbal fight. She has yet to figure out how to properly counter Sentinel's "NUH UH!" though. She believes this is normal and healthy as she hears time and time again how arguments are a sign of a functional relationship. White knows how in the past she never allowed anyone to express their grievances or criticize her. If they did, she'd twist their words to further force her own viewpoint or take control over their mind and body. Seeing Sentinel passionately argue back while White practices her listening skills and only sometimes speaks over him gives her hope that she isn't regressing back to her previous toxicity. No one has told her that disagreements are healthy and normal, but frequent fights and arguments are not. And the kind of hellish circles these two go in just ain't it

[offsidekineticist]

So I still have asks and stuff to answer, but a couple of asks I got made me think about a demon path AU for Theoven where he basically gives up on even trying to control his temper, and...um...well this is what came of it, and I don't think I ever want to touch that AU again. Post-game fic.

CW: suicidal ideation, attempted suicide, mental breakdown, imprisonment, torture, toxic family dynamics

There is a mansion in the Abyss filled with shadows. There is a room in this mansion guarded by shadows. There is a gnome in this room bound by shadows. And every day, the lord of the mansion stops by this room and asks the gnome a single question:

"Are you ready to behave?"

When he was first brought to this place, the gnome answered by trying to break his bonds and attack his captor. In time, when the shadows would not let him die, he answered by begging for death. Eventually he lost any hope of dying, and answered the question with tears and whimpering. Now even the tears have gone, and he answers only with silence. This is his last resistance, the last of his honor: he has failed, and he has broken, but he has broken in a way that will not give his brother what he wants.

The master of the mansion always sighs with disappointment, as one might at a petulant child, before saying:

"Well. Perhaps you will be ready tomorrow."

And every day he turns and walks away, a smirk of satisfaction on his lips, and the shadows begin their horrors anew.

[mantisgodsdomain]

We are just now realizing that still being on the short list of kitten fosterers means that we're going to be having to handle weaning five 3-4 week old kittens that need to be fed every few hours while also having university four to six hours a day and honestly, that's not going to be very fun. We'd say "maybe we should have taken on less art challenges this year" but honestly we've been having a great time with the art challenges it's just the 4-6 hours of school that's been rapidly eroding our soul

[thepoetrytheorist]

If you love Disney, its parks, its media, and its merch, listen up.

So I work for Disneyland, and we are talking about striking very soon. So soon, in fact, that we've been hosting rallies just outside of the parks. Yesterday was the 69th birthday of Disneyland Anaheim... it was also a monumental rally.

I haven't seen anyone on tumblr talking about the impending strikes against Disney. Not even going through the Disney tags or searching tumblr for "Disneyland Strike."

Let's talk about why we're striking:

Cost of living in the immediate SoCal region is nearly 2x as much as we are getting paid.

Cast members that have worked for the company for long periods of time are still paid as mucha s new hires.

Disney has showed up to union negotiations with insulting offers, including at 25 cent raise. Most cast members make $19.90

Disney rarely schedules you. In some areas and departments, you are fighting with your fellow cast members for hours. I have heard of cast members who are only scheduled for 1 4-hour shift per week. Many of those cast members have upwards of an hour commute to and from work.

Disney Admin has told attractions castmembers [so: rides, rollercoasters, and anything fun you get to do and see at the parks] that we are losing them money, which is why they refuse to schedule us and pay us. In the words of my partner, who also works at the parks, Disney without attractions is an over glorified mall and a food court. Disney needs us, and they know it, but they do not respect us.

Disney has an unfair attendance policy. It can be very difficult to get a needed day off, even when it has been requested weeks or months in advance. When you do take a day off [with-out accrued sick or vacation time] it counts against you. You can have 3 a month, 6 in 90 days, 9 in 180 days, or 12 in a year. How do you accrue sick/vacation? Hours worked, which can be impossible with the scheduling practices mentioned above. (Most cast members trade shifts among themselves to get around this.)

Cast members feel unsafe and unsupported in the parks. Many cast members have felt threatened by entitled guests upset that they are following policy. Disney Leads and Managers have to say yes to these guests and make things happen, though. [Which only makes this behavior worse and more dangerous for cast members who are only doing their job.]

Cast members also report feeling threatened, or even being literally threatened, by management in the parks. Especially cast members who have a second job. Especially cast members who know their rights.

Further, cast members work in hazardous conditions with pay that does not reflect that. Many cast members report losses of hearing, sore throats, and severe back and shoulder pain. Cast members are also exposed to infectious diseases at a much higher rate.

https://www.sfgate.com/disneyland/article/union-button-contract-dispute-19515296.php?fbclid=IwZXh0bgNhZW0CMTEAAR2u5o_mvU3i6jpIyHxBUZpEzD2GRSKFf5Pem4uRXqa6vKWDgZuffvINd1g_aem_AA1L0fI1phugJIluYMcDSw

[totheidiot]

going to do one of those posts, yayyy

200 notes -> i will start eating more because lately, i have literally been having one meal per day and it's rather bad.

300 notes -> i will start posting some of my poems !!

400 notes -> i'll try to reconnect with my old classmates again :))

500 notes -> i will start to continue writing my original fiction novels again :))

600 notes -> will eventually continue working on my very incomplete fanfiction

700 notes -> i'll start taking care of my appearance and stuff like that !!

800 notes -> after i am done with writing those original fiction novels, i will try to convince my parents to allow me to publish them.

900 notes -> i'll start making posts about my original fiction wips and promote them on tumblr !!

5k notes -> this is literally impossible for me to achieve but throwing this out there because i really really really don't want to do this uh i'll confess to my crush? i'll tell him that i like him and not really be expected to be reciprocated.

that's just it !! no obligation to do anything with this post, just letting it sit there

edit: FUCKING INSANE HOW THIS WENT TO 5k. WHAT THE HELL. you guys literally didn't even need to, in like the 4.7k mark I ENDED UP CONFESSING ON MY OWN?? SOBBINGG. the confession went better than i expected which is to say that he did not return my feelings but he was extremely respectful and open about it (you can send me an ask if you want a detailed description of what happened). SO YEAH. this post is pure insanity like DAMN.

[temiizpalace]

☆┊DEAR FUTURE HUSBAND..

SUMMARY: little things he does that remind you you’re going to marry him someday.

CHARACTERS: all dorms (-ortho)

GENRE: fluff

WARNINGS: none

reader gender is not mentioned, reader is not mentioned to be yuu

MAKING YOU MEALS

he makes sure you eat RIGHT. no more skipping meals throughout the day on his watch. every lunch he’ll make you a cute little bento box so you don’t have to wait in line. and when i say cute, i mean cute. it doesn’t matter what gender you are your rice balls will have cat ears. dinner? come over to his dorm and he’ll make something for you. don’t feel like it? he’s going to your place and cooking there. breakfast? he makes something quick yet delicious for you. he’s like your own private chef, and you can only imagine what it’d be like to see a ring on his finger someday.

trey, ruggie, azul, jamil, lilia (good luck), silver

CLEANING YOUR ROOM (and everything else)

it doesn’t matter if your room is messy, tidy, or anything in between, every month he’ll make sure it is SPOTLESS. is there dust on your shelves? nuh uh. are there random stains on your floor that you thought were impossible to get out? he’s rushing to your rescue and somehow got the stain out. did you not want to go through your homework? everything is suddenly organized in its respective subject, going from A-Z. you’ve never seen your room so tidy before, it was like an epiphany. please just marry him on the spot, he’s begging.

riddle, deuce, jade, jamil, vil, sebek

LEAVING LITTLE POST-IT NOTES ON YOUR BELONGINGS

without fail, you’ll find a cute little sticky-note on your almost all of your belongings. sure, it gets annoying once in awhile, but reading the sweet message on it changes your mind almost instantly. “you’re going to do great today! stay strong. :)” “don’t forget to drink water! love you 🫶” “can we go out soon? my treat. text me when u see this!” it’s almost frightening to see how much yellow papers you keep inside your desk every time you opening it, but can anyone really blame you? you’re going to keep these til the day you die, and that grand total might be at the very least over 100,000.

ace, deuce, cater, jack, floyd, kalim, epel, rook

RANDOM GIFTS

expect to see a neatly wrapped gift on your doorstep almost every week. seriously. it’s like a delivery service except the company is literally your boyfriend. “dear, did you get me this?” you ask as you enter the room. he looks up from his phone as he looks at the expensive name brand sweatshirt in your hands. “yeah.” he answered so nonchalantly!! like sir!!! this sweater was 1000000 thaumarks!! what!! while you do appreciate the gesture, you feel bad he’s spending so much money on you. he doesn’t care though!! he’ll spoil you rotten til your very last breath.

leona, azul, floyd, kalim, vil, idia, malleus

PREPPING YOU SNACKS

depending on who this is, he may not be some gordon ramsay level chef, but he’s definitely more than happy to cut you a some apple slices while you study. sometimes he’ll come into your room with a backpack full of your favorite snacks just left at the side of your desk so you can reach down and grab the one you want to eat that day. sometimes all you need is an energy boost and he’s more than happy to make some coffee or tea for you if you’re busy. he’ll press a kiss or two on your forehead before placing the plate of beautifully cut fruit down and continuing on with his day and going back to his thoughts. now, what will the theme of your wedding be?

ace, deuce, trey, jade, jack, jamil, epel, malleus

A/N: notice how jamil and deuce are in almost every category. (sorry this one was kinda rushed 😭😭)

date published: 7/30/24

© temiizpalace — do not copy, steal, or put my work into ai. thank you!

[nyarlathotep-thecrawlingchaos]

Zoro is fuckboy material.

Sanji is boyfriend material.

Shanks is husband material.

Mihawk is BDSM Dom Daddy™ material.

Earlier I refused to elaborate.

Now, I will elaborate no further than the sources below the dotted line.

dottedlinethedottedlinethedottedlineth

Zoro

He'll pull you into a broom closet without any warning at all, turn you around, pull your panties down under your skirt, and have you right there when the mood strikes.

Then he'll catch your eye across the deck half an hour later and give you a little smirk that makes your cheeks flare bright red. You're not sure if you want to either kick him in the shin or go for another round right that moment, if not both.

He's not looking for anything serious because he's just not that good at getting close with anyone or being emotionally available in general.

There's a lot of time between port towns, and you're a good match for each other's physical needs and desires, but not much beyond that.

Sanji

Even if he is a relentless flirt, he's just such a complete sweetheart. It's difficult not to swoon at those subtle little touches at your waist and hips, at his seductive murmur in your ear.

He respects every last one of your boundaries; if you tell him something he's doing bothers you, he's going to back off from it. No protest, no questions asked. He's still going to make it clear that he thinks you're incredible, but he wants you to be comfortable and happy above all else.

He's still as sweet as candy even once he does win you over. Playful and flirty and constantly planning the most romantic dates. Picnics on the beach, preparing candlelit diners just for the two of you, laying out a pallet of blankets and pillows with a bottle of wine under the stars—doing everything possible to make you feel special.

It's difficult to tell where it will go, but he's sweet and doting and fun, and he puts every ounce of effort into treating you like literal royalty.

Shanks

You're his lover just as much as you are his best friend. He doesn't hold anything back from you, good or bad, trivial or important. He wouldn't ever consider keeping a secret from you because the thought simply wouldn't even cross his mind—whatever he knows, you know. If anyone else tells him something in confidence, they tell him knowing that he's going to tell you the second he sees you.

His gestures of romance are more subtle and revolved around camaraderie than worship. If you're cooking or cleaning, he wants to be there, both to help lessen the load and to just be there with you. If he sees you washing dishes, he's right there next to you with a towel to dry them and put them away. If you're cooking, he's helping clean up after you. If you're sweeping the floors, he's apt to just take the broom from you, kiss you on the cheek, and tell you to go take a load off and relax.

Absolutely nothing could ever stop him from being with you. There could be an entire armada of Marine warships between you and him, and he would still find his way to you.

Every hope or dream you have ever had in your life is also his now. Literally all of them. It doesn't matter how long ago it was or how unobtainable it seems—if you still want it, he wants to make sure you achieve it. Does't matter what it is. He's never going to tell you it's silly or impossible or unachievable—he's going to exhaust every effort to find a way to make sure you can achieve it.

Mihawk

Hopefully you didn’t have too many plans of your own, because if you've managed to catch his interest, he's going to make sure that you're his, and probably within the next twenty-four hours or less.

He isn’t completely unreasonable. You will have the option to refuse. But he isn’t going to beat around the bush, either. He's going to pull you against him by your hips, comb his fingers through your hair and grasp it to pull you in and ask you outright if you want to belong to him.

He won't pressure you if you say no. That's your choice. He'll just leave you with a deep, passionate kiss that makes your knees weak, a light brush of his thumb across your lips, and he'll let you go.

But if you say yes...then good luck. You're his now, and he's never letting you go.

[withleeknow]

Lee Minho/Know + “quit it or i’ll bite.” + “do it. i dare you.” + suggestive

Thank you if you take this request!!! Up to you who's doing the biting :)

feline tendencies. (m)

pairing: minho x f!reader genre/warnings: established relationship, fluff, suggestive (probably a teeny bit more than suggestive), minors dni; practically dry humping, biting kink??, mimo's pecs (yes they deserve their own warning) word count: 0.9k

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation › masterlist › ko-fi

"quit it or i'll bite," minho grumbles, wriggling away from you in an attempt to ward your paws off him. "jesus, what's gotten into you?"

"i wish you would," you mutter, crawling toward him again to lay your head on him once more. the man is reading his book, just trying to enjoy his saturday afternoon and yet there's a menace quite literally in his lap, making grabby hands at him. disrupting his peace and quiet, though that's not really anything new.

"insatiable," minho tsks, his fingers carding through your hair, lightly massaging your scalp as he makes an effort to appease you. his attention is then promptly returned to the pages in front of him.

that's how your weekends are usually spent - lounging about, being lazy together, relaxing by each other's side.

you're just acting up today.

your twitchy fingers have a mind of their own. they dance up his stomach, over his abs until they reach their desired destination.

you place your entire hand over one of his pecs and squeeze, giggling to yourself when you feel his skin under your palm. this earns you a glare though it doesn't faze you.

minho may be scary to other people, but never when he's with you. it's just physically impossible, even if he wanted to.

"seriously, what is with you?"

you give his chest another tender squeeze. "boobs," you say simply. you think that's a pretty good explanation.

maybe you're no better than a man after all.

so it started a couple of weeks ago.

minho rarely skips going to the gym and while you are eternally grateful for it, you must admit that sometimes it drives you a little crazy. you respect his commitment, the consistency of his workout regimen (this could never be you, but that's beside the point); it's one of the traits that you admire most about him - he sees things through and adheres to the schedule that he makes for himself. minho doesn't half-ass the things he does or ditches them when he's feeling a little lazy (unlike you).

however...

it's this same dedication to his routine that's been sending you into a frenzy. lately, your boyfriend has been focused on working a particular area of his body and honestly? it's making you spiral more than you have ever spiraled.

chest. who knew it would be your downfall?

when minho came home last evening straight from the gym, you swear you almost passed out the second he walked through the door. his pecs looked especially good even under his shirt that you practically salivated, shamelessly ogling him like a hungry wolf.

minho sighs as if he's at his wits' end with you, though this time, he lets you continue feeling him up. "you wouldn't like it if i did the same thing to you, now would you?"

"actually, i think i would like that very much."

"i will bite you, no joke."

you have no doubt that he actually would. but again, that isn't something that you would been entirely opposed to either. you might be one of the only people on planet earth who can handle lee minho.

"your feline tendencies are jumping out," you comment, your hand still on his chest, alternating between playful pokes and full on kneading his pecs like dough. "do it. i dare you."

minho bares his teeth at you in the cat-like way that he sometimes does. it's cute, oh so cute.

before you know it, the book is haphazardly flung onto the carpeted floor (bookmark be damned) and your boyfriend is forcing a yelp from your lips when he practically pounces on you. your head is no longer on his lap; instead, he's got you pinned underneath him, his hips flushed against yours.

you can feel him through his sweats. delectable.

minho leans in until his lips ghost over yours. "stop testing me," he murmurs.

"stop tempting me," you shoot back.

"but i'm not though?"

"your boobs are."

"my god." he lowers his head to your neck, his soft lips brushing against your exposed skin as he chuckles. "that's not what they are."

"they might as well be. they're gonna be bigger than mine one day."

the sound coming from his mouth morphs into a laugh, airy and completely defeated by your words. "god, you're just so..."

"i'm so what?"

"weird," minho says.

you smile. "perfect for you then, aren't i?"

"mhmm."

then he's closing the gap between his mouth and your neck, lightly sucking on your skin as he rolls his hips against your body, spreading your legs open so he could slot between them more comfortably, so he could fit against you perfectly.

"oh," you gasp when he ruts forward, presses himself into the warmth between your thighs, over your shorts and his sweats. you weave your fingers through his hair to keep his head close to your neck as if he has any intention on moving elsewhere. minho continues to kiss and lick at your skin, nibbling on it gently in alternation.

"i thought..." you breathe out heavily, your body starting to move against his too, "thought you promised to bite me."

"promised? it was more of a threat, wasn't it?"

"same difference."

you can't see him, but you can just bet that minho is rolling his eyes. then, you feel his teeth graze the skin of your neck like he's deciding where the best spot would be. he presses his hard pecs tightly against yours as his mouth closes in. you almost fall apart right then and there.

well, this certainly awakened something in you, didn't it?

permanent taglist: @onlyycb97wife @starsandrqindrops @borahae-reads @abbiestearsricochet @cutiespaghetti @anthropologykpopmultistan @moonlinos @mjnhoz @caitlyn98s @piercidh34rts  @stayceebs97 @linocz @yaorzu-blog @biribarabiribbaem @kayleefriedchicken @extrhotjne @caitxx1 palindrome969

all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 20.01.2024]

[wildestdreamsblog]

Latibule Season 2: V

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader (Mafia/Detective AU)

Summary: In which he lost his latibule.

Warnings: Secret Identity, Yandere behavior, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, Violence, Mention of death, Disability, Sexual themes, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

A/N: BTS is 7.

Masterlist, Latibule 2.IV

“You’re finally awake,” a familiar, gentle voice on your right remarked.

You slowly turned to the direction of the voice, your eyes were slow to adjust from the sudden brightness of the white and sterile room. You could make out a man with a tall form, and even with the little vision you were left, you were sure you have seen this man before.

You blinked owlishly, clearing out the sleep from your eyes and little by little, your vision cleared out as best as it could. When it finally did, your breath hitched from the recognition of who this man was.

The man who claimed to have lost his cat years ago– Suga’s hyung.

He smiled at you when a stark recognition crossed your face.

“I never thought we’d see each other again,” he chuckled from his seat, on his lap was your chart. “Let alone in this circumstance."

You quickly sat up. Only now did you feel a restriction form your left hand. Your other hand was quick to reach out, feeling the dextrose drip attached to your skin. You turned to him with caution in your movement, memories of what transpired before this rushing into you.

He found you and he was going to end you.

“W-where am I?” trying to steady your trembling voice and muster some courage.

Seokjin tilted his head to the side. If he noticed your trembling, he did not mention. Apparently, he was content with observing you with almost scientific curiosity. “You’re in my hospital,” he replied.

He followed your eyes as you tried your very best to see what this room was, your eyes drifting across the whole room as though you were looking for something.

“Are you looking for Yoongi?” he asked when enough silence passed with you looking like you were ready to bolt in any given moment. You were sure that

Your refusal to answer was an answer in itself. Your silence spoke volumes.

Seokjin’s relaxed demeanor was just adding up to your nervousness. Why was he not doing anything, you wondered? You were sure that he was a part of whatever shady business Suga was part of. It was impossible that he was not aware of that. After all, they did seem close and they were brothers. The correlation alone was enough to make you be wary of him despite the friendly act of his.

“He’s outside the room,” Seokjin shared with lightness in his words. He chose not to divulge that his younger brother was literally just outside the room, standing guard as though someone was going to take you from him. Worse, that you would disappear right under his nose had he left his pose. “Wanna know why? Apparently, he, and I quote, ‘cannot bear to see the frightened look his angel gave him’.”

“Do you want to see him?”

“I want to leave.”

He stood up calmly and proceeded to check and adjust your dextrose. “Don’t move this hand too much. You’re going to bleed,” he advised, murmuring under his breath how Yoongi was going to hurt him if you were hurt under his care. He also noted how none of his brothers treated him with the respect the eldest should be given. Also, he grumbled about how he kept on feeding them despite their disrespect.

It wasn’t lost on you how he didn’t answer nor acknowledge what you said.

He fished a penlight from his white coat, “I’m just going to check your eyes, Y/N,” he said as he turned the penlight on and instructed you to open your eyes. “Minimal reaction to light,” he murmured to himself before writing down on your chart. “When did this happen?”

“Should I answer?”

“That’s alright. I’ll just check with Doctor Choi-“

“How did you know my doctor?” you asked in aghast. Did their hold know no bound? If not, how then would he know something of confidential matter?

“Hmm?” he moved away from you slowly, his eyes comically wide and his hands raised as though in retreat. It would have been funny had you not been sure that he was one of the bad men you despised so much. “Y/N, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You squinted your eyes at his retreating form. The room that you were in seemed to be ridiculously large and despite the number of steps he was taking, he was still far from the door.

“I swear I don’t know. But also, while we are in the topic of things I certainly do not know and have absolutely no way of knowing, I also have no knowledge of the scar on your stomach that suspiciously do not look like a cesarean scar.”

---

Seokjin jumped from shock when Yoongi stepped in front of him as soon as he exited the room. “I’m going to die early because of my own brothers,” he grumbled in irritation, clutching your chart to his chest. “I can’t go without seeing my sunshine one more time.”

“How is she?”

“Hey, hyung! Have you eaten, hyung? Thank you for staying up all night to take care of the love of my life. I owe you one, hyung. You’re just the best, hyung. You’re so handsome, hyung– really?! Is that so hard to say those things?!” Seokjin finished, his heavy breath a telltale sign of his agitation.

“Let’s just go ahead and pretend I said those things. Anyway, how is she?” Yoongi asked, his face couldn’t hide the exhaustion from staying up all night and refusing to leave despite his assurance that you would be fine under Seokjin’s care. His face was even paler than normal.

He didn’t even leave his post to eat that he had to call the only available brother (and not even his second nor third choice, but his last resort), Kim Taehyung, to disguise himself and come to the hospital with food. Taehyung then had to force the other brother to eat at least two spoonsful of rice.

Taehyung was rarely denied by Yoongi, so maybe Seokjin chose the right brother for this task. Never mind the fact that he was later on kicked out by Yoongi because he kept on looking closely and taking notes of the way he was acting because he said that it would be useful for his next movie character.

“Hopeless. All of you are hopeless-“

“You are, too. How’s your sunshine, by the way?” Yoongi shot back and despite his lack of sleep, his words were sharp as ever.

“I don’t know where she is, okay!? Why are you hurting me like this?!” he asked dramatically, childishly glaring at him. “I hate you! If you want to know how your Angel is, you better ask her yourself!”

Seokjin walked away, his steps quick and his white coat was trailing behind him which further added to his dramatics. A paid actor, if you would.

“I…I can’t, hyung,” Yoongi admitted behind him. The quietness of the hospital wing was enough for him to hear his younger brother’s vulnerability. Further, it was just enough to stop him from walking away.

“Yoongi, you little shit, what do you really want to happen?”

Yoongi sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping in a rare display of weakness. The image of the strong, composed leader seemed to dissolve in the face of his fear. The man who was usually a pillar of strength was now showing vulnerability. It was true what they said—even the strongest man falls to his knees for the woman he loves.

“Hyung,” he started, his voice low and his dark eyes down casted to the floor. “I just want her to be well. I want her to get back the life she had before I destroyed it. I want her to have a chance at normalcy. She deserves it. She deserves peace-”

 “She will be well.”

“How can you even be sure, hyung?” his voice, despite hinting a bit of hope still held despair. “You didn’t see her like I did. She was so…far from who she was.”

Seokjin smirked, “Because I said so. Now that that is out of the way, what do you really want? What’s really in that disgusting thingy you so fondly called a heart?”

Yoongi looked at him, his eyes held a certain darkness Seokjin was all too familiar with. He stood up straight, a strand of his hair fell to his face as he scoffed, “Her.”

He chuckled before leveling him with a serious stare. “Then go and get her.”

---

Your breath hitched when the door opened and your steps haltered.

Coincidentally, you knew who it was before he could even make it two steps inside the room. Even with your eyes failing you, you could never not know who he was. The sound of the door clicking shut behind him was unmistakable.

This was the moment of truth, you realized. This was your nightmares all and simultaneously coming to life.

You took a hesitant step back as his shoes made a sound. Your heart pounded in your chest, each beat louder and more frantic than the last.

“You shouldn’t be walking around just yet, Angel,” he admonished quietly, and by doing so, effectively broke the silence between the two of you. You had never forgotten how his voice sounded like despite attempting your very best to erase his existence from your memories. You had never forgotten how deep his voice sounded like, nor how to tell what he was feeling by the timbre of his voice alone.

Despite all that, you couldn’t help but feel something when you heard his voice,

The anxiety was almost suffocating that your breaths came out short and quick. “W-why am I here?”

“You lost consciousness, Angel.”

You stepped back when you heard his voice nearer. Unlike back home, you didn’t know the layout of the room like the back of your hand. You were utterly and truly helpless in his presence. You only had yourself this time. “I want to leave.”

“You need to get treated, Angel-”

“I want to leave!” you screamed at him, your hands now shaking uncontrollably from having to face the person who destroyed your world.

“Angel, calm down,” he implored, worry apparent in his voice but you didn’t care. It didn’t matter what he felt. You wanted him gone. You wanted to get away from this situation. You wanted to go home where everything was familiar. You wanted to hold your son again. You wished he never found you again. You wished that you could just wake up from this nightmare and back to your life.

Suddenly, the back of your leg collided with something solid, and you lost your footing. The room tilted as you fell, the moment drawn out, weightless—until strong arms caught you before you hit the ground. His reflexes, honed from years of instinct, were faster than gravity.

You were in his arms again.

For a breathless moment, you were in his arms again. Your body stiffened immediately, every muscle tensing in protest. Panic flared hot in your chest, overwhelming every sense. The touch you had once welcomed now filled you with terror. You shoved at him, desperate to get away.

“Don’t touch me!” Your voice was sharp, trembling with fear, and you struggled to free yourself, needing to break the contact. He loosened his grip, and you stumbled back to the floor, but his eyes never left yours.

“You’re scared of me…” he said in horrifying realization. Never in his wildest dreams did he ever want you of all people to be terrified of him when he had been nothing but gentle to you. Not when you looked at him before like he held all the answers and hang all the stars in the sky- too opposite of how now your eyes never left his in terror that he would do something terrible to you. Now, your wide, terrified gaze was locked on him as though he were something dangerous, something monstrous that might strike at any moment. The realization seemed to tear him apart, slowly, painfully.

“I-I’d never hurt you,” he stammered, his voice shaky with desperation as if each word might be the last thread keeping him tethered to something he no longer understood. “You have to know that Angel–”

“Don’t call me that,” you cut him off, your voice harsh as you pulled yourself further away, dragging yourself from his reach, from his proximity. And inching toward any corner. The endearment that had once meant so much now felt like an insult, a reminder of everything he had taken from you. His very presence was a wound you were desperate to escape, a scar you could never heal while he was near.

He recoiled at your words, the pain in his eyes deepening as if the rejection physically hurt him. "Please... I’d never—"

"Stop." Your voice shook as you raised a hand, as though the very sound of his voice was too much. "You don’t get to talk like that. You don’t get to act like you weren’t planning to use me and kill me the first chance you got."

A deafening, soul-crushing silence settled over the room, so thick and oppressive it felt like you could choke on it. The accusation hung in the air, heavy, suffocating, leaving no room for either of you to breathe. His face went blank, as if every emotion had been stripped away in an instant, leaving behind only a hollow shell. His eyes searched yours, trying to find something, some trace of the person you used to be, the person who used to believe in him.

If you didn’t know any better, you would think that he already left. His presence felt ghostly, his body frozen as if he couldn’t bear the weight of your words.

“Is that why you are so scared of me? Is that why you let me believe that you were dead?” he asked lowly, disbelief apparent in his tone. Was all the agony he endured because of a misunderstanding, a mistake on his part?

Your heart skipped a beat. What?

He believed that you were dead?

"What are you talking about?" you asked, your voice barely a whisper, confusion mixing with the fear that still pulsed through your veins.

Suga took a shaky breath. If you could see him, you’d see the tears pooling in his eyes, glistening as they threatened to fall. His gaze never wavered, locked onto yours, a painful mixture of sadness and confusion reflected in the depths of his eyes. “T-that night, Angel, you disappeared. We couldn’t find you anywhere. You just…vanished without a trace-” he paused, swallowing hard as if the memory was too painful to relive. “Everyone said that you died. Everyone told me that it would be impossible for you to survive that fire, not after the wounds you got. I never believed them. You must understand. I searched for you—years, Angel. Years of believing I lost you forever."

Your stomach twisted as his words settled in. The intensity of his gaze, the genuine anguish in his voice—it was as if he truly believed what he was saying. He had spent all this time believing you were gone, that you had died. But how? Why?

None of this made sense.

You shook your head, trying to clear the fog of disbelief clouding your mind. Your heart pounded in your chest, and your pulse roared in your ears as you tried to hold onto your version of the truth—the one you had built to survive. "I didn’t let you believe anything," you whispered, your voice shaking. “You’re lying. You’re making a fool out of me again. You didn’t look for me because you wanted me gone! H-he told me that if you find me…that you’d kill me. That you’re scared of being exposed for who you are-“

"Who’s he, Angel?" His voice was soft, but there was a hard edge beneath it—an urgency, a desperation to understand what had led to this moment, what had driven you so far away.

You froze, realization crashing over you like ice water. No. You shouldn't have mentioned him. If Suga thought you had died, then maybe—just maybe—he believed that Hoseok had disappeared with you in the fire. If that was true, he had no reason to go looking for him. No reason to discover what you were protecting.

But time was running out.

Not just for you, but for Hoseok.

Kim Seokjin knew what you were hiding, and the longer you stayed here, the closer Suga would get to the truth. If he ever found out about your son…

Your breath hitched, panic clawing at your throat. You couldn't let that happen. You couldn't let him find Hoseok. "It doesn’t matter," you said quickly, your voice cracking as you tried to mask your fear, but you knew it was too late. His eyes narrowed, sensing the shift in you.

"It does matter," Suga said, his voice growing harder, his patience wearing thin. "Tell me who’s been feeding you these lies, Angel. Who made you believe I wanted to hurt you?"

You swallowed, feeling the weight of his words press against your chest. His eyes were locked onto yours, searching for any sign of weakness, any crack where you might let the truth slip. But you couldn't. If you did, everything would fall apart. You would endanger your son.

"You’re not going to tell me? Fine," he said after a moment of tense silence, his voice dropping to a dangerous calm. "We have the rest of our lives to figure this out. But make this clear: you will not make me live without you again. I’m not letting you leave me."

“You can’t make me stay here!”

Suga’s lips curled into a slight, unsettling smile. "Oh, Angel," he murmured, taking a slow step closer, his eyes never leaving yours. "I can."

Your pulse quickened as you backed away, but there was nowhere left to go. The walls, the room, his presence—everything felt too close, too suffocating.

"You said you loved me once," he continued, his voice soft but chilling. "I told you then... you can never take that back."

Your heart pounded violently in your chest, the words hanging over you like a sentence. You had once loved him, but that love was gone, buried under fear, pain, and the desperate need to protect your son. Yet to him, that love still tethered you to him—unbreakable, inescapable.

"Things have changed," you whispered, fighting to keep your voice steady.

Suga shook his head slowly, stepping closer until the space between you was almost nonexistent. "No," he said quietly, almost tenderly, "the only thing that's changed is that now, I know what it feels like to live without you. And I'm not going through that again."

He reached out, his hand ghosting near your arm, but you flinched away, causing a flicker of something darker to flash across his eyes.

"You don’t get to leave, Angel. Not this time."

[sixflame438]

Fallen Mistakes

Synopsis - Minji loved to be a pain in your ass so obviously you get back at her too. What happens when it gets taken too far?

Pairing - Minji x Reader

Tags - High school au, enemies? to lovers (guys i tried), Minji kinda sucks, swear words, possible errors, lack of punctuation (rambling)

A/N - Req for my beloved 🐼🗿 @drvirgus Sorry this took so long and is so long 😅 Hope you enjoy reading it and that it fits the req.

Word Count - 8k

School was draining and despite not being the smartest cookie in your class you weren’t the worst either, sitting comfortably in the middle just trying your best. You were content with how things were going for you, having transferred into this new school only 3 months ago.

You had a small group of friends you could call your own and you had adapted well to your new environment. Your only problem?

Kim Minji.

Well she wasn’t a problem per se just an annoying piece of shit bored out of her mind. Her cure to boredom?

You.

Ever since you stepped foot into your homeroom and caught her gaze from across the class you knew something was up. The taunting look and mischievous smile she gave as you sat down at the desk in front of her should’ve raised flags but at the time you were too occupied with the pretty girl smiling at you and making a good impression.

And a good impression you did.

Too good.

Minji thought you were perfect.

Perfect for her…. to toy with.

Minji loved messing with you. Moving your chair out of the way as you sat down causing you to fall flat on the floor, distracting you by throwing scrunched paper balls at the back of your head while you were working on school work, snarky remarks. Literally anything to get a reaction out of you. For a while you paid no mind to it. It was just Minji’s antics, you could ignore them.

But what started small, snowballed into bigger problems. Ripping up your assignment into shreds, stealing and throwing your shit out the second storey window, tripping you up in the dining hall and straight up shoving you into cold, hard metal lockers in the hallways. It was impossible to go anywhere without seeing or worrying about seeing Minji, the fear that she would just poof out of thin air to harass you haunted you like a ghost. You didn’t even share many classes with her yet she always made her presence known, no matter the time or place. You were beginning to think she hated you.

Eventually you decided enough was enough and two could easily play this game. You get what you give and if she was going to treat you like this you were either gonna make her regret it or give her a hard time as well. You never retaliated by doing anything that broke school rules, you just played with the rules in mind. It was less suspicious that way, you wouldn’t have to get into trouble and it was less work for you. Minimum effort, maximum results.

Although in saying that you were probably breaking some student behavioural code of conduct. Maybe one about respect and integrity? You wouldn’t know since you never bothered to read it. Too many words.

As the law abiding student you were, you would never purposefully go out of your way to break these rules. But in your defence Minji started it first. And if to do the right thing is to stick up for one when they are bullied then weren’t you doing the right thing by sticking up for yourself?

Where was the harm in that?

Its no surprise that other students caught onto your back and forth, there were even people betting on who they thought was going to give up first. You were quite surprised to learn that your new favourite pastime had become such a popular topic among students.

You couldn’t blame them though it was quite amusing being the star of the drama, you could only imagine how entertaining it must be for the viewers. Getting back at Minji came easily and whether you’d admit it or not you actively looked forward to the daily tormenting.

There was a kind of thrill that you got from messing with Minji. Maybe it was the triumphant feeling of being able to one up her or maybe it was the competitive determination in her eyes that showed she wasn’t going to back down, the promise of another interaction. There was also that weird feeling you got when she got too close, the split second of contact before you got shoved into lockers, the grip of her fist around your uniform collar.

You didn’t understand it.

Usually you kept to yourself so you didn’t know if this was just what comes with spending so much time with someone else or if it was even normal to be feeling this for someone who actively made you suffer. It was a weird feeling, almost warm and fuzzy but with how much trouble she brought it couldn’t be anything positive. Right? And more importantly if you felt it, did minji feel it too?

==========

One of your favourite “pranks” was when you hid her calculator. You didnt steal it you just….moved it to a place it wasn’t originally. It was still in Minjis possession she just didn’t know that. Now this may seem quite lame but this was a $150 calculator, it wasn’t easy to replace but it was absolutely necessary to have in class due to its additional functions that “basic primitive” calculators did not possess. The lack of calculator caused Minji to be absolutely ridiculed by her teacher, one who was infamous for absolutely grilling students whenever she wanted.

“WHO SHOWS UP TO ADVANCED MATHEMATICS WITHOUT THE PROPER EQUIPMENT? IF YOU CANT SHOW UP TO CLASS WITH SOMETHING LIKE A CALCULATOR HOW ARE YOU GOING TO DO WELL IN LIFE?”

You weren’t there to witness the outburst but according to Hanni the humiliation on Minjis face was priceless. If it was anything like you were imagining then you so would’ve easily paid hundreds to see that pretty face covered in pinks and reds.

Minji even received a detention after school to your absolute joy and pleasure. 3 hours of pure boredom and pain for her just sitting in a large empty room with nothing but another teacher tapping away at her keyboard. She was like an animal in the zoo, trapped with no where to go.

And of course you weren’t going to turn down this amazing opportunity to get back at Minji, walking past multiple times to essentially point and laugh at her. It was petty as fuck but you just couldn’t help yourself, walking off and cackling after you were a fair distance away. Minji could probably hear you.

It was times like these when you could see why Minji had so much fun messing with you, it was fun to get her back. What you did was nothing compared to the relentless mocking and rumours she made up about you anyway, it was rather tame if you think about it. Either way the stunt was just so simple and effective, Minji didnt even show up to class the next day, score! Yn 1 - Minji 0

You liked to do things subtly, your plans hardly ever left evidence that could be traced back to you but you always made it obvious to Minji that you were behind them. You were seriously thinking about changing career paths. Fuck being a doctor or lawyer being a spy would be so much more fun.

You also never did anything that would directly cause harm, mostly harmless little disturbances that would ruin someones day even just for a little bit, never big enough to cause damage, just extremely petty and enough to piss her off or ruin her mood. Thats all you ever strived to do and it seemed that Minji would keep it at that level too.

Or so you thought.

===========

You were walking to your next class when you noticed a small crowd huddled in circle by the lockers and curiosity overtook you as you began to walk towards the group. As you approached closer some of the students noticed your presence and began to move aside creating a direct pathway for you.

For a moment you felt like a famous celebrity strutting down the red carpet with hoards of fans around you wanting your autograph but that was until you heard the whispers and murmurs coming from the onlookers. “Oh my gosh shes here” - “It was so Minji, who else would it be” - “She tried so hard too what a waste”

Damn were you confused but as you got to the centre of the crowd you realised why everyone was gathered here. Someone had graffitied on your locker. Bright red shoddy handwriting that wrote out “attention whore”. It was hard to miss. You were shocked, bewildered, standing in front of your locker with your jaw dropped. The real strike in your chest is realising that they did it directly on your locker too where all your hardworking was now mostly covered up.

The school allowed students to decorate or personalise their own lockers and you were ecstatic when you found that out, spending a solid week coming up with a design you deemed worthy. Paint was your area of expertise and your choice of arsenal but painting took layering and time to dry so you spent the first few weeks spending your breaks by your locker, painting away.

The end result was beautiful, a gorgeous mural that incorporated birds and flowers using colours that blended well together, more pastel than bright and bold but still striking enough to catch attention. But now that hardworking was down the drain. Hours of your time now reduced to a layer of sprayed ink and yes you could just remove it and start again but that didnt stop the pain you felt in the moment.

So much so that you had began crying without even realising. When you did however you could see everyone looking back at you, mixtures of pity and shock that made you feel small and worthless. Not wanting to be there any longer you started pushing your way out of the crowd and towards the bathrooms where you could be away from everyone. Tears now fully flowing, you could hardly see anything ahead of you.

Standing in front of the mirror, hands gripped around the sink, a blurry reflection staring back at you. You faintly heard the creak of a bathroom stall opening and out stood a figure that looked like your supposed perpetrator.

Was Minji really responsible for the graffiti? It would make sense it was “her turn” but you didnt think shed go as far as defacing school property like that, let alone something you worked so hard on.

It couldnt be right? Minjis handwriting was neat and elegant, nothing like you saw on your locker. But a spray can is not the same as a pen. Even just the possibility Minji was behind the crime made your heart break in a way you couldnt explain. If all your past scuffles were small slaps to your ego and pride, then this would be an uppercut. Why were you so hurt though?

There weren’t any “rules” established as neither of you had ever spoken up about the “terms and conditions” of your situation and Minji had every right to do however she pleased, it was an unspoken agreement. So why did it feel so wrong?

“Yn?”

Tiredly wiping away your tears you see that it was indeed Minji who walked out of that stall and she had just watched you cry your eyes out.

“Hey are you okay? Why are you crying?” Simply put she had grown quite fond her competition and seeing your usual confident self in this vulnerable state had Minji feeling concerned.

You regain your composure but look away not wanting to give Minji the satisfaction of seeing your red and puffed up eyes.

“Why would you even bother asking that, you already know since you did it”

“Yn what are you talking about? What did I do this time?”

“My locker”

“What happened to your locker? I didnt do anything I swear I hardly even walk that way.”

“Someone graffitied my locker with spray paint”

Honestly? Minji was a little offended. Did you really think she would stoop so low? She knew how much you adored your locker and how much time and effort you spent painting it. It was one of the small things she loved about you.

Anything you did it was with dedication and commitment, always striving to do the best you could. She could never forget the proud smile you had when you finally finished it either. It wasn’t often she walked past your locker but the scene in her head and the smile on her face were present every time. Whether Minji knew it or not there would always be a smile on her face when she thought about you being happy.

“I know that we keep doing things to fuck with each other and its complicated since you dont have any reason to trust me but I promise that wasnt me. I would never stoop that low to just be petty and id never mess with something as important as your locker in that way.”

Seeing Minji reply back so earnestly had you confused. If Minji wasnt the one who drew all over your locker who was it? And why would they do that to you? What had you ever done to them to deserve this?

As you spiralled into your thoughts once again Minji watched on concerned as fuck.

She had always been quite intrigued by your character.

No one usually stood against her and never had she seen someone with such self assurance and confidence in a person. You weren’t egotistical and rude in the way Minji was though. You were sweet and kind (to those who deserved it), never failing to help someone out.

This duality was something Minji could respect and it was only one of many qualities that she had grown accustomed to. She had seen your acts of rebellion as a challenge and despite feeling the losses of humiliation she wasn’t going to stop. She was going to make you regret ever standing up against her.

Minji loved seeing you mad and loved it even more when you would try to hide that. How your face would puff up into a pout made you look like a child who wasn’t allowed any candy. It was a little adorable she could admit, but never aloud and never to you.

Actually scratch everything Minji just liked seeing you. Everything about you was perfect in her eyes, you were smart, kindhearted and had a great sense of humour meaning you could deal with all of her teasing and attention (affection).

Getting a rise out of you and seeing the varieties of emotions on your face was a delight but now seeing your face display sadness and anguish she wonders if what she did was worth it. All the days and weeks spent messing with you had directly caused this and whether or not she had been the one to graffiti your locker (she wasnt) this was partly her fault.

Minji was going to hurt whoever made you cry.

=========

It wasnt hard to find the actual mastermind behind the scheme. All Minji had to do was threaten kindly ask a few people and boom she had her answer.

“Woah wait youre mad with me? You should be thanking me i helped you” Yeonjun said with raised eyebrows, genuinely confused and severely mistaken.

Incredulously Minji barked back at him “Thanking you? Why on earth would I be thanking you for ruining yns locker? Do you know how much time and effort she spent working on that? Anyone can see the passion and talent radiating of it, who in their right mind would go and ruin that? You better have a good reason or I will hurt you”

“I helped u get back at yn? Now u dont have to do anything and just have to wait to see if she can do any better. Not that she can even come up with anything better that is.” He remarked with condescension. “And i can also win my bet money, its a win win situation for the both of us.”

This pissed Minji off even more. She physically had to hold herself back from lashing out.

“Listen here buddy, I dont care what you wanna do and i dont care about your little bet. This is my thing with yn not yours. If im going to win its on my own terms not thanks to some chump like you. Find someone else to mess with if you need to so badly. Yns mine.”

“Woah hold on chill you sound like a possessive girlfriend, ill do what I want”

“Ill repeat it once more since your puny brain cant seem to understand. Apologise to her and then Leave. Yn. Alone. I dont care if you have classes with her if you so even breathe in her direction i will make you regret ever waking up in the morning.”

Suddenly feeling the extent of Minjis words and knowing how she wasn’t one to be messed with, Yeonjun backs off.

But just because he said he would didn’t mean he actually would. Quite the opposite actually as you found yourself being approached by Yeonjun telling you how he was sent on Minjis behalf to apologise. He left as quick as he came, leaving you to think over everything that happened.

Your day was already shit and now Minji was getting other people to apologise for her. Could she not have told u herself in the bathroom when you were there? And if she claimed she wasn’t responsible for the destruction of her locker artwork why was Yeonjun here saying otherwise?

The mixed signals from Minji was getting on your nerves. One minute she shows she’s capable of being a decent human being by comforting and caring for you, the next she’s back to her bitchy self. Why was she like that and doing this to you? It didnt help your own feelings for the girl either.

Maybe it was time to let them go, let all of this go and stop entertaining Minji with her little “pranks”. Could you even call them that anymore? Cause what happened sure as hell wasnt a prank. Just thinking about it had you riled up and you were done. Over it all.

You were going to sort it out once and for all.

===========

“KIM MINJI” you shouted angrily. The volume of your announce loud enough to catch the attention of every student nearby. Minji was currently leaning on the railing of the staircase that lead down to the first floor of your building, engaged in a casual conversation with Kazuha. Poor girl was never a fan of loud things despite literally being best friends with Huh Yunjin and jolted in a fright by your yelling.

Minji however just turned to face you, seemingly disinterested by your arrival. Secretly though she was quite startled by you and was deeply curious about why you felt the need to yell. This may also be the wrong time to say it but she also loved the way her name sounded coming from you, no matter the emotional undertones that came with it. And you saying her full name? Why was that kinda hot?

“Are you that much of a coward that you couldn’t even tell me to my face that you were the one who graffitied over my locker?”

“I literally told you earlier that i wasn’t responsible. Is your hearing that shit you need to be reminded about everything twice? Minji remarks with a snort, keeping up the facade of indifference.

“Why would you get Yeonjun to come and apologise to me then on your behalf?” You argue, the anger slowly rising.

“That little shit” Minji mumbled annoyed, her hands now rubbing her face disappointedly. “Yeonjun was the one who did it not me i sent him to you so he could apologise himself for what he did”

“Really? Or is that you trying to put the blame on someone else so you don’t have to get into trouble? Take some accountability Minji, grow up.”

“I said i didnt do it how many times am i going to have to say that for it to get into that thick headed skull of yours?”

At this point it was t even a conversation anymore, it was a full blown screaming match and neither you or Minji was backing down, determined to prove you were right.

“Wow” You scoff. “Thats pathetic Minji just admit you did it.” You argue taking a step towards the girl, challenging her to fight back or give up.

The close proximity now caused the strange feeling to rise again and it scared her.

“I said. I. Didnt. Do it!!” Minji yelled back with full conviction, her arms raising in your direction.

An unstable “Ahhhhhh” was all you could say in response as you felt your feet lose their balance and your body lose its feeling from shock. Whats up with the incessant buzzing on the side of your head?

You shakily look up to see Minjis head looking down at her hands in what you thought was disbelief. It was hard to tell what was going on and you felt your vision quickly slipping away, not before you met Minjis eyes one last time though.

You made out what seemed like genuine worry and fear in her eyes before you felt the darkness envelope you.

“What the fuck” Was the only thing that was going through Minjis mind as she watched you essentially roll down. The mixture of the panic from the lack of distance fuelled with the energy of the argument caused Minji to do something she knew she would regret, but it was too late.

She had just pushed you tumbling down a flight of stairs.

You were hurt and Minji caused it, for real this time.

===========

Nothing happened. Well obviously stuff had happened but the aftermath? Nothing.

Nothing from the school administration.

Nothing from your parents.

Nothing from you.

Not even a cricket could be heard in the empty life of Minji. Just pure unfiltered silence.

Actually that was a lie Yeonjun got suspended for 2 weeks but Minji? Nothing. Its almost as if the entire school didnt know she pushed you down stairs.

During your time away, Minji had heaps to think about. Too much, to think about. The more she thought the more confused she got. Nothing made sense and it was starting to give Minji a migraine.

What were you? She hated you right? Thats why she loved to mess with you. But then why did she care? Why was she experiencing this flurry of emotions and why did some of them make her nauseous just thinking about them?

It was this lingering feeling of disappointment she felt whenever she did something to you. Shed feel it when you looked back at her with anger but mostly when you adorned that look of genuine sadness. It was small but evident, a mere flash of emotion below all the simmering rage, one that disappeared as quick as it came.

It would be when you heave yourself away to the safety of the bathrooms or just in the way your shoulders would slump in exhaustion. Even the way you carried yourself was different and knowing she was the cause of that made her heart ache.

It was strange too. Usually she took pride in seeing how hopeless and miserable her victims would become but seeing it in you made her heart hurt a little. Why were you so different?

Minji wonders if you even realised that you let it slip sometimes or if it was all just a part of an elaborate scheme to chip away at her heart and for you to win when she had let down her guard. It was petty she knows but her competitive nature wouldn’t let her lose in this unspoken unofficial battle.

Ironic how the expressions she loved to see were the ones she hated the most on you.

During your time away Minji figured out what the weird feeling was.

Guilt.

Maybe you both didnt notice but you had both become such an integral part of each others day that without your rival counterpart you were both feeling….empty. Or maybe you had, but didnt want to do anything. Afraid if you pursued anything, the delicate boundaries between would be crushed. And not in the way you wanted.

You’d become Minjis everything and Minji became your everything.

=========

Brrrrinnggg! Brrrrinnggg!

The blaring bell sound is soon replaced with exuberant chatter as the students around you started packing up their books and pens, all excited to leave for lunch. The same could not be said for you however.

Your head drops defeatedly onto your desk as you let out a long groan. A moment of reprieve before your nerves start kicking in. You had been avoiding Minji as much as possible for the last few days since you’d come back from the hospital. It was tiring to say the least.

After the incident you had gotten a concussion, a broken wrist and bruises literally everywhere. Spots of deep blue and dark violet were seen when you were being examined in the hospital, the smaller ones were starting to fade but most of them were turning yellow now.

It wouldnt be the first time Minjis given you a physical injury before. There was once in gym where the class was playing dodgeball and Minji was purposely going at you the entire time. The best worst part? She wasnt even in that class.

In fact you only had 1 class with Minji so technically only saw her once a day but you had been purposefully skipping those shared classes with her and even going as far as relocating your friend group to have lunch somewhere else, somewhere Minji couldnt find you.

Before the incident she had made it her mission to purposefully hunt you down every chance she got. Just because you had been away for a week it didn’t change her routine, if anything it felt like she was trying harder to find you now that you were back, probably to give you a piece of her mind. Considering you had just gotten out of the hospital a few days ago with a concussion, broken wrist and problems in other places, you werent about to risk anything else.

Hurriedly you pack up your opened textbook, you hadnt looked at it since you got into class, choosing to think about Minji instead. Thinking about ways to avoid her of course, not dreaming about how amazing she is or anything.

Now that you were looking at it, the textbook didnt even match the subject your teacher was teaching. A maths textbook for a historical english course, it couldn’t be any further.

You sigh for the nth time and feel your hair cascade down your shoulders, your ribbon falling loose. Undoing and redoing your hair you tighten the ends together with determination like you were about to run a marathon (or like the ninja headband thingies ifykwim)

This is it you think to yourself bracing for a smooth, silent, sneaky escape as you had done in the days before.

Marching over to the exit you cautiously peek your head out the door.

Look left, no Minji.

Look right, no Minji.

Look left to double check, no Minji.

Look right to double check, Minji.

Look left to trip- wait what?

Look right to trip- oh shit thats Minji.

For a moment you forget you were supposed to be hiding from her. You hadnt properly seen your bully in almost 2 weeks now and you couldn’t help but be mesmerised but the sight. The way she walked with such grace and class was to be envied and the luscious black hair that flowed so elegantly with every step she took was admired by everyone including you.

Every angle of Minjis flawless face could be seen as you watched her look into every classroom she passed by. Minji was wearing light makeup today, the same she had been wearing since the day you joined and it perfectly showed off all of her god given natural features.

Her beautiful round face which would fit perfectly in your hands, the lips you could spend a lifetime kissing. Your favourite part were her eyes. Those stupid dark coloured eyes that you adored so much, god you could stare at those forever.

The look in her eyes when she’s talking to her friends or eating her favourite foods made you feel warm and the frantic worried look she currently had wait- why did she have that expression on her face? Was she looking for something?

As if on queue you lock eyes with your favourite pair. You notice how her shoulders fall a little, almost in relief, how her eyes flicker with recognition and the light upturn of her lips is so small that you wouldnt have noticed it if you hadnt already memorized everything about her.

You also realise that shes quickened her walking, now almost at a jogging pace, coming straight in your direction. Your body kicks into gear as you bolt off away from Minji, running and weaving through the small crowds of students all huddled around in their friend groups or standing around idly.

You can hear Minjis voice calling out your name faintly in the background hidden under the loud chattering of the students around. Despite how nice your name sounds coming out of her mouth, you dont stop, cant stop.

You dont even know where youre running too. In your panicked state you accidentally bump shoulders with Haerin who just stares at you when you pick up her book and call out a rushed apology before scurrying off again.

Eventually you run into a hallway with evidently less people. You cant hide in the crowds and the hallway is blocked off because of a spillage. Some idiot dropped a flask on the ground it seems, evident by the shattered glass in the pool of liquid.

You dont have enough time to discern what the substance is though as you hear your name being called once again, accompanied by hasty footsteps charging closer and closer.

Running low on options you hastily open the nearest door and get inside, wanting to not be in the open for Minji to find you. What you fail to notice however is the sign that says broken lock do not open and how your ribbon gets caught in the door.

Taking in a breath of air that you desperately needed you inspect your surroundings. Youre stuck in an empty but messy science lab, chem maybe? It was a big classroom with multiple benches and tables that lined the room, all covered in an assortment of different things.

Theres also two doors, one at the end and one close to the front but both connected to the same hallway you came from. The classroom becomes the last of your worries as your beating heart is suddenly brought to your attention.

Why was it pounding so fast? Probably the adrenaline from all that running you just did you think to yourself. You werent unfit or anything though, regularly going out for runs or to the gym.

“Yn.”

Before you can dwell any longer you hear a low, out of breath voice calling your name. A very familiar voice. “Minji” you whisper quietly , turning just as slowly as you said her name.

“This is yours” Minji says between huffs of air, approaching holding her hand out with your ribbon.

Taking the ribbon gingerly you look at your bully suspiciously. “Thanks.” An awkward silence fills the space as you both stand there in silence while you return the strip of fabric back to its place.

As youre redoing your hair trying to look at anything thats not the girl in front of you, Minji doesnt do the same. Her eyes are trained onto you and you only, watching with rapt attention as your fingers weave through your silky hair with ease and familiarity.

Shes watched you repeat this action more times than she can count. Such a mundane task yet every time shes still rendered starstruck by your beauty. Minji really thinks that if she didnt have this bit going on between you she wouldve tried asking you out already.

Part of her really did really regret messing with you as it has brought you nothing but pain and misery, but even if her chances had been significantly affected by her actions she was still going to try. Thats why she was here anyway, to try and right her wrongs and hopefully start afresh. Fuelled by determination and hope, she waited for you to be done.

Unbeknownst to her though you were feeling the complete opposite. Being under Minjis gaze and having her unwavering attention had you nervous. You didnt know why she followed you into the room or why she chased you down the hallway. Just being in the same room as her made you uneasy and you wanted out.

Clearly not liking the atmosphere you take steps towards the second door in the room to make your way out but the door wouldnt open no matter how hard you pushed the handle. It was almost like someone was purposely trapping you with Minji for some sick deranged plot device.

“Hey you havent been to class lately.” Her voice quiet and nervous, a contrast from the usual harsh tones and without its sharp edge.

“Yea im aware, now ive got places to be thanks for returning my ribbon” you state plainly, walking back to the other door you entered from. Part of you wanted to stand your ground and hear where Minji was going but leaving and avoiding sounded much more appealing.

“Hey hey wait uh i uhm just wanted to apologize, for you know, everything.”

“Thats sweet im gonna go now”

“No hold up please just let me properly explain and apologize to you.” Minji rushes out as she steps in between you and the door, blocking your exit.

“I know you have no reason to want to be here but please I promise ill leave you alone if thats what you want after this.”

“Youre just here to apologise because youre forced to, just let me go and you dont even have to fake it.”

Ignoring youre attempts to dismiss the situation,

“Why didnt you press charges? Or get me expelled? I got you injured and treated you like you were worthless ever since you came to this school. It would’ve made for the perfect final revenge. You wouldn’t have to do any work just one call to the police n principal and I would be gone. Out of your life never to bother you again. Why wouldnt you take it? Prime opportunity right there what were you thinking? Why keep a jerk like me around?”

She was starting to ramble while pacing back and forth taking steps towards you whether she knew it or not. Every new thought was a step taken in your direction and every step taken forwards was a step you took back. Minji had been going on for so long that you felt the back of your legs hit the smooth edge of a countertop.

Struggling with the lack of distance you try to move away but not all plans work out the way they should. Stumbling backwards you to fall onto the bench with a wince as you’re now using your broken wrist to hold yourself up.

“Minji….”

“No no youre right sorry im really sorry for picking on you its just I dont understand why you basically let me off from all of this Scott free because I know if I were you I would’ve never turned down an offer to get rid of me” Minji replies exasperated, still pacing around tense with her hands on her head, unaware of your state. At least she had taken steps back.

“I didnt want you gone…” you mutter quietly, slapping your unbroken hand over your mouth in alarm when you realise what you just said.

“What?” Minji whispers quietly dumbfounded by what you said. Did she hear you correctly? You wanted her to stay?

“But why?” She asks extremely confused and her volume increasing again. “Ive done nothing but treat you like shit why would you want me here? I don’t deserve any sympathy especially not from you and even random students ive never seen are coming up to me telling me that was uncalled for but what could i do I panicked when you got closer and you were yelling at me and i was yelling back and i was just so stressed out because i couldn’t understand why you were yelling at me i still dont by the way i literally havent a clue why it happened i also dont know why im still here why do you want me to stay it doesnt make sense i was the one who pushed you down the stairs not the other way i pushed you not you pushed me why the heck would you want ME to stay? Please say something im really confused and ive been thinking about it and i just don’t understand at all.”

“I-“ The words getting stuck in your throat as you looked away abashedly, finding the clouds out the window more exciting than anything. Were you really about to tell her this? God she’s going to have such a field day exposing you after all of this.

Wait till she finds out the reason you let her mess with you so easily was because you actually liked her this entire time. Before you could say anything though Minji starts rambling again.

“Look I dont even know why I started what I did you were just so perfect and pretty and smart and I really wanted to get to know you better but I didnt know how to talk to you and we didnt have many classes together and youre just so amazing the way you smile to yourself when you think no one is looking is just so adorable and it makes me really want to kiss you and I really am sorry for bothering you so much and having it end up like this it was not my intention to cause you this much pain and I also really didnt mean to fall for you the way i did and i know i sound like im just making this shit up as an excuse but i really do mean it and i apologize for everything cause it just didnt end up how i thought it would and I know this may be too much to ask and I understand if you dont want to but I really need to ask and it would kill me if I never took a chance to but and please dont be pressured to say yes or anything because I know ive been a bitch to you this entire time and I really like you and I think I already said that and-“

“Minji. Breathe.”

She stops her yapping as she stares back at you startled, frozen. Eventually Minji nods and focuses on gaining her breath back, chest rising and falling with how much energy it required to get all that out. Minji finally turns fully towards you and looks you dead in the eyes, genuine sincerity underneath those dark reflective eyes you adored.

“Do…you think we could start over?”

Its quiet. Nothing but muffled chatter from outside the classroom could be heard as you took your time contemplating the question. But that moment felt like hours to Minji. The silence seeming to stretch on endlessly.

“Im sorry that was stupid please forget i said that god im so dumb who in their right mind would even agre-“

“Do you want to go on a date with me?”

“Huh” Minji says wide eyed, clearly taken aback. She couldn’t believe what you were saying

“You said you wanted to get to know me better right? Isn’t that what dates are for?” You say with an innocent head tilt as if you didnt fully understand what you just said, a playful smirk on your face as you watched Minji struggle to come up with a response.

“Wait are you serious?” Minji replies, shock still written all over her face. You, someone who had to go to the hospital because of an injury she created, was asking her, someone who picked on her randomly and never stopped, on a date, the same kind people who like each other go on. Wait did you like her back?

With a light smile you nod in response clearly amused with the outcome of your conversation. Never would you have expected this turn of events. Were you dreaming?

“Why. Why me. I don’t deserve this why are you giving me a second chance this doesnt make sense and a date? Do you know what you just agreed to? A romantic date with me. Oh my god im going on a date with you. I never thought this day would come ive been thinking about it for so long wait are you lying to me youre not playing with me right? Because that would just be cruel, you cant play with a girls heart like that but then again I probably deserve that dont I. That still doesnt stop it from being a shitty thing to do tho-“

You were done with her speaking. Of course like anything about Minji you loved her voice, it wasnt squeaky or high pitched. But this, this was just tiring. So as any rational person would you leaned forward and pulled Minji closer by her uniform collar, placing a chaste kiss straight on her lips.

And just like that she’s speechless, again.

Minjis stunned, jaw dropped, doing nothing but blinking at you. If Minji was short circuiting before, now you had completely fried her into overload. Past you would’ve kissed her ages ago if you had known how effective it was.

Seeing how Minjis stumbled and rambled over every little thing made you realise how much of a loser she was under that tough and stuck up exterior. It was cute youd happily admit and luckily for her pretty losers just so happened to be your type. You cant help but let out a small giggle with all the different reactions Minjis given you.

The adorable noise snaps Minji out of her daze and its when she realizes her heart is pounding so loud she thinks shes gonna go deaf. She cant move cant hear and cant think of anything other than the fact that youd just kissed her. She could however see your lips moving (the same ones shed like to kiss back) and mindlessly nods along to whatever you had just said. Seeing you speak again is like its enticing her, a spell she shamelessly falls for.

“You caught my eye since day one. I thought you were really pretty and you still are. You were also a bitch to me though and since i couldnt stand that i wanted to get you back.

Between the banter, which i enjoyed by the way, i got to see glimpses of you and how much you cared despite trying not to. I think i was starting to fall for you too. And that day in the bathrooms really sealed the deal.

You stayed by my side and even tried comforting me when you were supposed to hate me. What im trying to say is that i also want to leave what happened behind us and id really like to take you on a date, if youd like that.”

Minji was starstruck again, evident by the wide eyes as she processed your confession. Quiet took Minjis place and as the silence stretched on you were feeling more and more nervous by the lack of answer. The urge to do or say something was getting to you. So bad you had to start wiping your hands on your uniform to get rid of the sweat.

Nothing was happening. Minji wasnt reacting and you didnt know what else to say, so you just did kissed her again. You weren’t sure if it was the right thing to do but you did it anyway. Actions speak louder than words after all. This kiss carried more weight than the first, a confirmation that what happened in the room wasnt a mistake and that you had meant to kiss her the first time.

As you pulled away to study her reaction you noticed how Minjis entire face had gone pink, giving you the confirmation you needed. Turns out you didnt have to pay to see it, a simple kiss was enough.

You watch amused as she slaps herself hard across the face, as if to clarify she wasnt in some lucid dream and luckily she wasnt, immediately flinching backwards due to the strength of the slap.

As if on instinct your hand reaches for Minjis cheek, gently caressing it with your thumb. Your soft hands soothing the heat from the pain. Minji definitely enjoyed the touch but it emphasized just how hot and humid the room suddenly became.

This time Minji leaned in first. Your question laid unanswered and forgotten but the outcome did more than enough to answer it.

Youve always wondered what Minjis lips tasted like but this was better than you could ever imagined. The kisses were soft and delicate, heavenly you could say.

If this was a dream Minji didnt ever want to wake up. Too bad all good things have to end at some point.

“Yn! Is that you? There you are!” Shit. Hanni. She had seen you through the hallway window and was now bursting through the classroom door. You and Minji quickly pull away and rush to make yourself a little more presentable, wiping off your now shared lip stick and rearranging your uniform.

“Bro we were looking every where for you and Haerin said you ran in this direction. What are you doing here- WITH MINJI?” The two of you just stand there like deer caught in headlights.

“What did I just walk in on?” Knowing you’ve been caught red handed neither you or Minji attempt to explain your situation, choosing to awkwardly look at anywhere but back at Hanni.

Finally you manage to muster up a nervous “hi Hanni” as you give her an embarrassed smile. Hanni is still looking between the two of you skeptically as she points her finger accusingly.

“You two are going to explain yourselves but not here. Im sure the group would LOVE to hear about it firsthand.”

“Ugh do we have to?” You groan clearly annoyed that she was doing this to you.

A taunting mischievous chuckle is all you get as Hanni spins on her heels and walks out the way she came in, humming noises of delight. Sighing in defeat you follow Hanni like a child waiting to be scolded for something they know they’ve done wrong. You had no choice.

Minji doesnt quite understand whats going on as she trails behind both you and Hanni out into the hallways but whatever the outcome she was going to support you no matter what, now that you both had admitted your feelings. You feel soft fingers interlacing yours and look up to see Minji walking besides you with an even softer smile, the eyes you loved so much staring back at you with nothing but warmth and comfort. Maybe things will be alright. 


==============

“You didnt know the door lock was broken did you?”

“It was? Ugh that explains why i couldnt open it”

“Yea and im glad it did or else i probably wouldnt have been able to talk to you”

“You know what? Im glad it was broken too”

“Also you’re cute when youre angry/annoyed, like a cute little puppy”

“Gasp is that why you were such a bitch to me?”

“Well i had to see that adorable expression somehow”

“You know you couldve just talked to me right?Instead of acting all mean and tough”

“...what if i told you pretty girls scared me…”

“God youre so lame”

“HURRY IT UP IDIOTS”

“Coming Hanni…..”

[romypearl]

The Queen's Pawn - Regina George/Oblivious!Reader | II

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven

Summary: Everyone is interested and obsessed with Regina George, after all, she is the queen of the North Shore, so why does Y/N barely look at her? The new student, oblivious to her existence, intrigues and irritates the blonde at the same time. And she doesn't know how to deal with it.

Classification: Fluff

Warnings: Slight internalized homophobia

Word count: +2200

Unrevised

She's always liked strawberries. Sweet, soft and tickling the roof of mouth. And, coincidentally, every now and then it turns pink.

Like the remnants of ice cream that hang around the corner of Y/N's plump lips.

It's hard to ignore, is what Regina tells herself as she turns away, trying to find a random fixed point to distract her. What proves to be more than impossible, out of the corners of her eyes she watches a little speech about Greek culture, something about Stoicism and a guy called Zeno, she doesn't really know, can't pay attention in the long words, only and exclusively in that spot. How could the Miss Perfect and Retainer of All Knowledge miss something so silly? The blonde huffs and crosses her arms in frustration, how has no one seen this yet? The Plastics seemed indifferent, pretending to pay attention to the matter while typing messages, knowing that their respective partners would do all the work for them and be grateful. She had no such luck. When Mrs. Blake, inspired by the... variety of grades, announced that she was going to pair up for assignments, she was sure that had guaranteed a top mark and a pat on the back for the minimal effort, equivalent to a zero. It would have been like that, if she hadn't made Karen switch papers to have Y/N as partner. After all, if she's so clever could easily get an A for both, but it backfired.

"What the hell kind of word is Eudaimonia?" she finally asks, frowning in confusion.

"Did you pay attention to anything I said?"

"All the things you say are very boring." Regina shrugs and turns so that they're face to face "Just like you."

She waits for some reaction, ever since they started studying about an hour ago Regina teases her and pulls all the strings in search of the right one, the one that will snap her out of the calm state of mind or hit her in some way. Nothing. She's rather unreachable. And, just like the other times, totally ignores the petty comment.

"But..." she hates doing it, every lousy second "Can you tell me what it is?"

"Right! For the last time..." Y/N settles back in chair and takes another spoonful of ice cream to mouth, thinking about how to summarize what she's been trying to say for a long time "Eudaimonia is a term from Greek philosophy that means a state of happiness and inner well-being. In literal translation it is "the state of being inhabited by a good daemon, a good genius"."

"Daemon?" I'm getting more and more lost "Did the Greeks believe in that?"

"No, it's daemons, not demons." the newbie's monotonous tone becomes animated as she starts talking, which makes Regina's heart skip a beat and she doesn't like it "In Greek mythology, they were spiritual beings who occupied an intermediate place between gods and humans, they could be either benevolent or malevolent..."

Then another speech begins, this time she tries to pay attention, but gradually the words blur into disconnected sentences and all she can focus on is how they sound on the girl's lips, how she pronounces them, her tongue curling between pearly teeth, the soft sound and, still, that damn ice cream. She tries to remember the last time she ate one, it seems like months, maybe years. What did it taste like? Overly sweet and sickly? Smooth and addictive? Why did her mother have to interrupt them and offer a dozen options? And why did she have to choose just that? Tempting. Lovely. Irresistible.

Y/N gasps in surprise and freezes in place as she suddenly feels something soft pressed against the corner of her mouth, thumb rubbing something that is apparently resisting coming out and her eyes meet sky blue irises, staring at her obstinately. The touch is long, almost purposeful, and they don't realize they're holding breath, unaware of their surroundings, too caught up in each other to notice the curious gazes of the two lackeys.

To everyone's surprise, including her own, Regina rubs the stain, picking up some of the gloss in the process, and brings to her lips, sucking it off. She has to hold back a groan and fight against her body to keep composure, pretending not to be shaken by her own impulsive, totally thoughtless, act.

"If my face was so dirty, you could simply have warned me." she says after a long, thoughtful pause, unable to find any conceivable reason except that "But I appreciate your gesture, it was really kind."

Kind? Has anyone, at any time in life, used that word to refer to her? Maybe her dad, once, just after Kylie was born and before they lost control completely. But there was nothing kind about what she had done, quite the opposite.

"Do you want more?" the blonde points to the almost empty bowl, anxious to mask the situation quickly.

"No, thanks!"

"How about Doritos?"

"I think I've eaten too much junk food today, it can't be good for me." Y/N jokes and opens a big smile, making cheeks stand out along with dimples that are almost imperceptible to inattentive eyes.

"We have strawberries." she says immediately, not stopping to think about those soft lips around the red fruit. When Gretchen looks at her in confusion and frowns, trying to subtly point, the plan comes back to mind and she decides to put it into practice "Also blueberries, raspberries, blackberries. Whatever you like, sweetie."

"You really like berries."

"You can't blame me..." Regina leans on the table, one hand on chin, long eyelashes batting slowly and a smirk, the same one that has won over every boy she's ever wanted "When is your color."

"What do you mean?" the other asked, without even looking up from the papers, missing all the theatrics.

"Red is your color..."

"My favorite color is yellow." she finally abandons the notes, only to find George defeated in front of her, about to slam her head on the glass table to get out of this nightmare "Can I use your bathroom?"

"Of course!" Regina snorts and points towards the corridor "Second door on the right, don't get lost."

Secretly, George hopes, wishes, that she really would get lost so that she could finally have the opportunity to guide her through something, or simply talk to her without two ticks on their backs. When she wants to, Gretchen can be very... clingy and insistent, often taking the brunette as a side effect, not unexpected considering how insecure she is about herself and the stability of her position in the hierarchy of North Shore, a drone that takes pride of function. Most of the time it's acceptable, in fact her presence barely matters to the queen bee in ordinary situations, but now all she wants is for the two of them to disappear at the snap of a finger.

"Karen, Gretchen, I need you to do me a favor." Regina is direct, in a casual tone.

"Of course! What do you need?" Wieners replies promptly, always eager to please.

"Can you go to the convenience store and get some Redbulls?" she smiles and stands up, taking one of the credit cards out of the purse, tossing it for them to take "All the flavors you can find."

"Now?"

"Yes, now. And get some more ice cream too."

They exchange glances, but don't dare deny Regina anything, even if it means half an hour's walk "Right, we're going."

The pair get up and leave quickly, holding their tongues to avoid questioning her about the sudden request, nor about what seems to be an interest in the newbie. Right from the first day, they listed her as a loser, with no social sense and who no one would have the courage to touch without a ten-foot pole, so they didn't understand why she insisted on winning her over. And they had no idea that she would have her as a partner in history and now visiting the George mansion.

Regina smiles triumphantly. The living room is finally quiet and she can turn her attention completely to the plan, she didn't feel shy or pressured to succeed around them, but didn't have all the attention from Y/N as she can have without silly questions and random celebrity gossip. It's the perfect moment.

She stares at herself in the mirror above the fireplace and fixes the smallest details of appearance so that she looks flawless.

"Gina!" her mother calls out from the kitchen, walking briskly into the room, and she rolls her eyes, before feeling blood run cold at the sight of her companion "What a adorable girl! She even offered to help me in the kitchen."

"Mom..." she mutters between teeth, trying to keep composed as her mother steps forward, arms around Y/N's shoulders "She's here to study."

"Oh, of course, of course! Studying is important." June says with a mischievous smile and finally lets her go "Studying what? Human anatomy?" and winks suggestively at her daughter, causing a wave of embarrassment and annoyance.

"Mom!" Regina exclaims, face burning with embarrassment, hoping that the girl won't pay any attention to her mother. At least she didn't offer condoms like last time, which didn't embarrass her like it does now "It's history."

"And philosophy." Y/N adds.

"A lot less interesting, but still important." the woman continues, not letting herself be put down, and turns to the visitor "Darling, would you like something to drink? Juice? Lemonade? More ice cream?"

Y/N, not at all affected by the expansive and slightly invasive personality, nods and opens a shy smile "A juice would be great, thank you."

"Perfect!" June hurries off to the kitchen, but not before taking one last meaningful look at her firstborn, who blushes visibly.

Regina sighs heavily and sits down at the table, this time next to her classmate, trying to regain control of the situation.

"Sorry about that. Sometimes my mom is a bit much."

"It's okay!" Y/N replies, settling into the soft chair, and goes back to concentrating on the notes scattered across the surface. In an almost imperceptible movement, she adjusts her glasses, which the blonde hadn't even noticed were resting on the top of head, and puts them on face, completely transforming her appearance "You're lucky."

It's Regina's turn to gasp, barely feeling the surprised sound escape between her lips. She'd deny it to anyone who asked if she thought the girl was beautiful, deny it to death, but there's something differently captivating that prevents her from lying now. The lenses enhance the Y/E/C eyes, making them more penetrating, as if she could see into the soul through them. The sight makes the older's heart race and her palms sweat, having to concentrate not to let it show, let alone appear enchanted.

"Do you wear glasses?"

"Yes, for years, but I was trying to get used to contact lenses." the newbie says, adjusting the frame correctly, sighing with relief "Which turned out to be a disaster."

"They look... good on you." she comments, trying to sound casual and not too anxious, failing miserably as she stares "Your eyes are beautiful."

"Thank you!" Y/N finally lifts her face and catches the queen bee with a simple glance behind the lens along with the amused smile, rare occasion, the same one Janis gets "But they don't work."

Regina laughs at the witty response, finding her perspicacity and humor interesting, very different from what surrounds her in everyday life. She's not afraid to make a joke about herself, when any of the trio would rather fight a bear than do such a thing, making themselves the material for silly and light-hearted jokes. Y/N seems to be completely oblivious to the effect she is causing, Regina's flushed cheeks being nothing more than the result of the warm weather, the friendly laughter aimed at everyone and the hospitality something routine, perhaps an apology for the not so pleasant first meeting. All the compliments, overly embellished and full of hidden intentions, simple acts of politeness, so she remains unaffected and continues to read the manuscripts, without giving the blonde what she so desperately wants.

"You know, the text isn't going to write itself." she laughs and points to the long-forgotten laptop "And I've already made it clear that I'm not going to do everything myself."

With a disbelieving nod, Regina goes back to work, trying to ignore the signals her own body gives off in the presence of the other. It's hard not to be affected by the sweet perfume emanating from inviting skin, the taste of ice cream she wants to try again, the way she seems so at ease and unimpressed in her house, lips puckering as she encounters a paragraph incomprehensible at first reading and now pushing up the stubborn glasses that insist on slipping down her nose. God, all of this is messing with Regina's head in a way she can't explain, there are no plans that could infiltrate all the sinful thoughts that invade her with this privileged view.

She forces herself to concentrate on the task in hand, which tingles as she feels their arms lightly touching, but a part of her desperately craves more of these moments of closeness, even if it means ignoring the voice of reason that screams in her mind that she's not a dyke and wouldn't be for Y/N. It's just a fucking plan. Nothing more than that.

Taglist: @reginassweetheart @chaengluva @avelynpye @bianchiniomg @royalityofmultifandom @lottiematthewsceo @notjaexiee @mayles @l1lass @bridkesby @newyork1432

Join my taglist here ^^

[sweetiecutie]

Ok ok listen-

teacher!valeria x student!reader🫶🫶

(I imagen her and us having "study sessions" she calls us in her classroom to talk about our grades or she calls us in her classroom so she can "help" us with something that we didnt understand 😻😻and could reader be a fem?. if u dont want to do this is ok!!🫶❤️)

Pairing: Valeria Garza x fem! Reader

Warnings: NSFW, smut, university AU!, professor/student trope, age gap implied

A/n: this is literally so sexy, I’m about to cream my fucking pants😩

Okay, so this is a university au, in which Valeria is one of the professors. I have a feeling that she would be teaching something hard and complicated - let’s say math.

Professor Garza is very strict. She’s one of the people who value discipline and order over anything else, punishing everyone who dares disturbing it. Valeria wouldn’t think twice before giving out detentions and extra work for behavior she deems unacceptable within auditorium. Chatting during her lectures? - detention. Forgetting to do homework she gave? - detention and double the amount of exercises you had to be handed over to her due to 3 pm the next day.

Many students fear Miss Garza, many hate her, many like her; but every single one has some sort of respect for her cold and stoic demeanor. Valeria is strict and demanding , but she’s also one of the bestest - many students wish to be teached by her.

And even if it seems nearly impossible, Valeria does have favorites. Very few - 3-4 students in whole university, but boy are they privileged.

Valeria values conformity over anything else. She prefers students that are polite and well-behaved, never causing any commotion or fuss. And you happened to be just that - miss goody two shoes, one of the bestest in your year, never once failing ho hand in whatever assignment Valeria gave you, no matter how complicated or cumbersome the work was.

Garza quickly caught onto your skills, and by the end of first year she already valued you over the rest of your group. Not only the brilliance of your mind, which was capable of so many amazing thing, drew her in; you’re quite a sight for sore eye as well - clothes always neat and ironed, hair framing your pretty face perfectly no matter what, light makeup only highlighting your natural beauty. Valeria couldn’t help her eyes lingering on your soft thighs whenever you decided on wearing a skirt or a dress to uni, flooding her head with images of these exact thighs spread wide before her.

It was quite a challenge for Valeria to find any mistakes in your works. You were a smart little girl, she had no doubts about it at that point. But every time, with extreme effort, professor Garza managed to find all the little flaws in your works. They did seem ridiculous tho, something other math professors wouldn’t even deem as a mistake. So first time this happened you came up to the older woman, asking about your strangely low grade; and Valeria, voice softer with feigned sympathy, patiently explained why she had to grade you so lowly. “I hope you do better next time, hm?” She’d say with a small smile, dismissing you from her classroom. Oh how the sight of your pouting lips and teary eyes got her off

As semester drew nearer to its end your works didn’t seem to improve even a slightest bit. At this point you were convinced that it was something personal - that professor Garza simply disliked you (oh if only you knew). So it was a surprise when Valeria called out for you to stay behind as everyone was leaving after the end of her lecture. You obediently descended the stairs of high auditorium, coming to her desk, standing there patiently as all the students left.

Once alone in the room, Valeria turned to face you, one hip leaning onto the edge of her working desk. Her dark eyes gazed at you from above thin lenses of her reading glasses, arms crossed over her chest making her tits perk up teasingly from within two unmade buttons of her white blouse.

“Y/n, I wanted to talk to you about your grades” she said, her voice sounding a bit softer than usual - voice she used on you only. Your body tensed slightly at her words, your fingers gripping your books more tightly as you looked at her tentatively.

“I made a small research on your academic performance and it seems that you only struggle with my subject. Is there any particular reason to this?” She asked, concern lacing her words.

You bit your tongue, fighting back bitter words of indignation - it was Valeria’s fault only that your grades in math were so low. But you kept silent, gazing dully onto the floor under your feet. Professor Garza heaved a heavy sigh, her heart thrumming loudly within her chest at what she was about to do.

“Y/n, you’re a very smart girl, and I don’t want you to ruin your record because of arithmetics. I can give you some extra credit” she said calmly, your ears perking up at her words.

You looked up at the older woman, obviously surprised - Valeria never gave extra credit, no matter the circumstances. You blinked rapidly a few times - you won’t lose such an opportunity, you’d be a fool if you did.

“Sure, I’d be very grateful!” You said quickly, looking at Valeria with wide eager eyes.

She only smiled at your words, nodding for you to come closer. As you did, she took your books and notes out of your hands, placing them on the faraway side of her desk. “You won’t need these”

As you were going to ask what she meant her warm hand clasped around the back of your neck, slamming you against her desk. With a small squeak you were bent over the table, your cheek squished against some papers scattered on top of it. You felt Valeria’s hot chest pressing against your back, her free hand glided up and down the side of your hip as she whispered into your ear “Now I need you to be a good little girl and spread your legs wider”

And you did. Arousal pooled in the pit of your stomach, making your knees go weak as Valeria’s hand slipped in between your soft thighs - just like she always dreamed of, massaging your soft pussy through thin material of your panties.

Soon enough these same panties were shoved into your mouth to muffle all desperate cries tearing through your chest as to not disturb other professors in nearby auditoriums; three of Valeria’s long fingers fucked in and out of your drooling pussy with loud squelching sounds, her fingertips grazing that one spot deep within you, making your eyes roll and toes curl.

You exited professor Garza’s auditorium on trembling legs, your makeup and hair unnaturally messy, eyes unfocused and bleary but - most importantly - with impeccable record on arithmetics.

But to keep your math performance this way, you had to visit professor Garza some more for extracurricular activities <3

Likes, reblogs and comments are highly appreciated! Writers live off feedback, give us some love<3

[iid-smile]

queen-like treatment, ino takuma

x fem!sick!reader ! ino calls you "ma'am, sunshine, queen", he builds you a pillow fort (it's a castle in his eyes) ino lowkey rizzes you up with micheal jackson lyrics, kissies at the end, just fluff and silly stuff, not proofread

author's note: after seeing how starved ino lovers were, my creative juices were fr flowing!! also i just needed some cuddles

"you're hot~" ino mumbles, his cheek smooshed against your belly as his face rubs back and forth on you. he's been glued to your side ever since you called him over to help you out. has he helped whatsoever? no. not at all. he's been a total cuddle bug since he walked through those doors, making you impossibly hotter than you needed to be, and refusing to acknowledge that he might catch your cold, just touching you all the time.

meanwhile, you're stuck, sat there with multiple tissues, bottles of water and chocolate bars by your sides. your nose has been running nonstop; it's itchy, irritated, and bright red. like rudolph, he would like to say. it stung to keep your eyes open, it stung when you tried to close them, and there's multiple dry and wet streaks running down your face from your eyes watering up.

"i don't like how you're telling me that when i'm burning up and experiencing the worst fever of my life." you mumble, still running your fingers over his nape and fiddling with the material of his beanie despite how annoyed you felt towards him.

"don't worry, i meant that in a lot of different ways." he turns over so he can face you, his usual overly happy smile plastered on his face. "how could i not find my lovely girlfriend hot when her cheeks are all flushed and she hasn't moved in the past five hours?"

now you're feeling the heat in your cheeks. "ino." you warn.

what a way to expose you, huh? he's too cheeky for his own good, yet still respects you as if you're some sort of higher being in status. seriously, find a middle ground, ino. "yes, ma'am!" he exclaims, still giggling as he nuzzles into you again.

a little pout of frustration manages to find its way onto your lips. "i should be the one cuddling you, not the other way around." and your nose blocks again, so there's an awkwardly placed pause as you try to clear it out, aggressively blowing into a fresh tissue. "i'm the sick one here."

"i'm keeping you warm, aren't i?"

that wasn't what you needed, though that's kind of your fault for not explicitly telling him. "i'm literally sweating."

"well, you can sweat off all of those germs. because i!" he suddenly gets up, standing by the edge of the bed and crossing his arms. he looks... oddly determined. "your lovely boyfriend, am going to cheer you up."

silence.

"...for real?" you sound impressed, but you're more perplexed by his sudden and random declaration.

"for real real, sunshine." he smirks.

sounds like a challenge. "okay then," you push your elbows to lean up on the bed frame, quickly adopting a confident front. "amaze me, mr ino takuma."

"oh, trust me, i will. give me thirty minutes. i'm an absolute architect at stuff like this."

thirty minutes indeed went by. you wiped your nose and eyes every now and then as you listened to the clatter of noise just a few rooms away, hearing a panic or complaint come from him sometimes. he's amusing, even when you can't see him.

you weren't keeping track of time, but maybe the minutes claimed really did pass, as your ears couldn't pick up anything else going on. perhaps he was done with whatever he was doing. that was, until you heard his footsteps walking back to you.

"i just wanna touch and kiss~" you watch with furrowed eyebrows as ino slides, or rather moonwalks back into the bedroom, clicking himself a beat as he recites the chorus to "butterflies". a song he's dedicated to you, and is so deadset on playing it at your future, not-yet-planned wedding. "and i wish that i could be with you tonight~"

now you can't tell if you're still confused, or actually getting a little flustered from the sudden vocal serenade.

he dances his way all the way up to your bed again, and holds out his hand to you. "will you take my hand, my queen?" and he winked. he winked! how sappy can this guy get?

it would be a crime to decline after he just did all of that.

"you don't have to call me that..." you mutter, glancing away as you put your hand in his palm. he swiftly lifts you to your feet, and your knees buckle as his arm hooks underneath them, carrying you like a princess. "w-wait—!"

"relax! i gotta treat my queen right." with you still in his grasp, he brings you out of the coziness of your bedroom over to the living room. "and the big reveal!"

the surprise was right in front of you. a huge— no, gigantic pillow fort, spanning over the entire couch carpet and floors, the cold wood neatly covered in fluffy blankets. the pillow walls were also draped in thin covers and fairy lights, creating a soft, golden glow. "had to build you the castle you deserve, sunshine. surely this cheered you up?" obviously, he's proud, putting you down on your feet so you can explore on your own.

"yeah..." you subconsciously say, walking closer to really take in what he's done for you. you follow the little path of lights leading up to the entrance. "yeah, it did..." impressive. he did this in thirty minutes?

once again, he's by your side, gently coaxing you by the shoulders to move faster. "go in! i'm gonna come in after you."

you crawl in and sit down a little more to the left, and he comes in after you as promised, moving to the right so he can comfortably settles down in front of you. "look, all of the plushies are here too. stole all of them and you didn't notice a thing." he kidnapped your plushies! you were looking for those during your wait, wondering why your usual bundle of animals weren't atop of your pillows. no wonder he made sure he kept his front to you walking out: they were stuffed in the back his hoodie.

sneaky... "you're seriously a child at heart."

"nuh-uh! my heart is all yours." he leans forward a bit, his gaze focused on you. "it's like you're a charger constantly giving me more battery. i only got you to blame for all of my energy."

just like that, you're blushing again. you turn your head away to the side, a groan coming from you as you struggle to face him. he giggles again, but then goes suspiciously quiet. maybe you should look again?

once you peek at him, one of his eyebrows raise in smugness, but his face soon softens at the sight of your bloom. then, his eyes drifting up to something above you before looking back down, almost as if he was telling you something was up there. and there was. a poorly drawn mistletoe on lined paper, cut out with ragged edges and ripped in some places, stuck to the roofing pillow.

"it's september." you deadpan.

"can't ever be too early for christmas, can ya?" he grins, shifting to sit closer in front or you and taking both of your hands into his. "can we kiss or no?" just slightly, you can hear him mumble a little please under his breath.

how can you stay mad when he loves you like this? you sigh, yet the corners of your lips lift, betraying your annoyed facade. "kiss."

ino's been waiting for this the entire day. at least three times an hour, you'd have to reject a kiss anywhere near your face because you don't want him catching whatever you've caught, and now he finally has you! he just can't help but get a little eager, pulling you close and toppling you over, hugging you in the tightest grip he can as your lips remained pressed together.

you really weren't surprised when he called you up the next morning, complaining about a cold that seemingly came from "nowhere".

[wlwcatalogue]

Some WLW (?) Jdrama & Kdrama recommendations!

Jdramas and Kdramas have a (not-entirely-unearned) reputation for being very straight, but here are a few which are either canonically F/F or which prominently feature a female-female pair-- please enjoy! For those who enjoy following series in real time, Chaser Game W and She Loves to Cook, and She Loves to Eat S2 are both airing this January 2024 :)

As with my post on anime with yuri subtext, since subtext is so subjective, this list only includes series which I’ve actually watched, and so is by no means intended to be comprehensive. Also, it doesn't include any webseries, since those probably deserve a post of their own.

At-a-glance list:

Miss Sherlock (8 episodes, 2018) (subtext)

Night Light (20 episodes, 2016) (subtext)

Tokusatsu Gagaga (7 episodes, 2019) (subtext)

Painter of the Wind (20 episodes, 2008) (canon?)

She Loves to Cook, and She Loves to Eat (10 15-minute episodes and counting, 2022~) (canon)

Sono Toki, Heart wa Nusumareta (5 episodes, 1992) (canon)

Chaser Game W (10? 30-minute episodes, 2024) (canon)

Doctor X (7 seasons and counting, 2012~) (subtext)

Bonus: SKY Castle (20 episodes, 2018) (subtext)

Summaries under the cut!

1. Miss Sherlock / ミス・シャーロック (8 episodes, 2018) (subtext) – MyDramaList | AsianWiki

The elevator pitch for this show is simple: it’s Sherlock Holmes, but where Holmes and Watson – here named “Sherlock” and Tachibana Wato, and played by Takeuchi Yuko and Kanjiya Shihori, respectively – are both female, and the cases are all set in modern Tokyo. As with other adaptations, mystery-solving and the budding relationship between the two leads takes centre stage, but Miss Sherlock manages to carve out an identity all its own.

There’s a calm beauty to its visuals, which favour sunlight and urban greenery, and the show’s focus on former doctor Wato as she tries out new jobs and goes to therapy means that there’s a surprisingly high number of slice-of-life scenes. It’s also subtly more female-focused than the source material; Sherlock’s gossipy but good-natured landlady Ms. Hatano (Ito Ran) is as much a member of the household as Sherlock and Wato, and the cases often revolve around female characters. But more than anything, it’s just really fun to watch Sherlock and Wato’s relationship bloom as they snip and snipe and are utterly unable to stay out of each other’s space (literally – the body language and blocking is *chef’s kiss*). Their relationship is the heart of the show – watch this one until the end, you won’t regret it!

(CW: psychological abuse, manipulation, and genre-typical murder, violence, and gore)

2. Night Light / 불야성 (20 episodes, 2016) (subtext) - MyDramaList | AsianWiki

(Note: spoilers for the mid-season twist, but it’s impossible to allude to a good portion of the F/F subtext without doing so, and I think knowing the twist ahead of time doesn’t make it any less enjoyable.)

Night Light is a rather odd show. It’s simple enough on the face of it, a story about  successful but ruthless CEO Seo Yi-kyung (an icy Lee Yo-won) who tries to mold the younger Lee Se-jin (a puppy-eyed Uee) in her own ambitious image, only for her protege to develop the conscience she never had and move to stop her dastardly plans… but upon watching it’s a totally different creature,  thanks to the alchemic reactions of some delightfully contradictory acting choices (Uee’s performance convinces viewers less of Se-jin’s supposed latent desire for power and money, and more of a deep love and devotion for the CEO) and the unintentionally (?) inneundo-laden script (“If I like something once, I never forget it– whether it’s a dress… or a person,” declares the CEO less than ten minutes into the first episode while gazing intently at Se-jin).

Honestly, it’s a wonder this series ever got made, but you certainly won’t see me complaining! The first part is full of boss/subordinate goodness; Se-jin is unable to resist the CEO’s magnetic pull despite her hot-and-cold behaviour, while the CEO cannot bring herself to push Se-jin away completely. And then, when Se-jin makes her mind up to stop the CEO, it morphs into a corporate take on a (subtextual) lovers-on-opposite-sides situation, where it is precisely Se-jin’s feelings for the CEO that motivate her to stop her. In short, it’s a workplace GL fan’s dream.

Note: If you do watch it, skip the corporate politicking cutscenes with the old men, you’ll thank me later. Also, there’s a prominent male character who is the CEO’s ex and who works closely with Se-jin in the second half, but don’t worry, all the M/F romance is in the past (and doesn’t get much screentime)– he and Se-jin aren’t interested in each other at all.

3. Tokusatsu Gagaga / トクサツガガガ (7 episodes, 2019) (subtext) - MyDramaList | AsianWiki

Nakamura Kano (Koshiba Fuka) lives and breathes tokusatsu shows (think Power Rangers, if you’re not familiar), but keeps it a secret from her work colleagues to avoid being shunned or laughed at. And yet she yearns for connection, so when she sees a woman on the subway bearing a keychain from her favourite show (Yoshida Hisami, played by Kurashina Kana), she is determined to find her again.

Although ostensibly about being a tokusatsu fan as an adult, this show is rife with queer subtext, and not in the usual way. It deals with the difficulties of staying in the closet (regarding being an adult tokusatsu fan), the desire to connect with other queer people adult tokusatsu fans and how one might do so through hints and signals, parental disapproval arising from gendered and social expectations (that tokusatsu shows are for boys, and magical girl shows for girls), intersectionality and finding comradeship with other minorities people who are excluded due to their interests, and even generational gaps wherein younger queers fans may underestimate the obstacles that still exist. Although all that might sound a bit stressful, it isn’t actually! Difficult incidents are handled with sympathy and a dash of wry humour, and the show never loses sight of the fact that it – above all else – is a story about finding queer community in the face of a heteronormative hostile world, told with warmth and the nuance of lived experience.

4. Painter of the Wind / 바람의 화원 (20 episodes, 2008) (canon?) - MyDramaList | AsianWiki

Adapting the novel of the same name by Lee Jung-myung, Painter of the Wind takes as its protagonist a gender-bent version of real-life Joseon-era painter Shin Yun-bok (Moon Geun-young), whose paintings are used to weave a tale of artistry, political intrigue, and romance, and more than anything else to offer modern-day viewers a glimpse of everyday life in 18th-century Korea.

While it may sound like Dickinson’s boring cousin, apart from having a common preoccupation with reframing historical works, another similarity the two shows share is that Painter of the Wind is also very gay. Starting from the first episode, Yun-bok meets and becomes fascinated by the courtesan Jung-hyang (Moon Chae-won), who despite her initial aloofness is drawn to Yun-bok’s intellect and sensitive demeanour. It’s a real meeting of the minds, their witty repartee in early episodes reminiscent of Twelfth Night’s Viola and Olivia, and their relationship isn’t siloed off from the main plot either: Yun-bok’s infatuation quickly starts causing issues with her academic career, and the two eventually have to contend with Jung-hyang’s precarious position as a courtesan as well.

Unfortunately, all this is undermined in the back half of the show, which tries to gaslight viewers into thinking that Yun-bok’s feelings for Jung-hyang were purely platonic all along and that she totally has romantic feelings for her much older male mentor— but hey, at least it’s an open ending. Despite everything, though, I can’t think of another serious historical TV show which features such a prominent F/F narrative for its main character, even nearly two decades later. (Let me know if you have any others! And no, Gentleman Jack doesn’t count, it’s not exactly traditional in style!)

(CW: period-typical sexism)

5. She Loves to Cook, and She Loves to Eat / 作りたい女と食べたい女 (10 15-minute episodes and counting, 2022~) (canon) - MyDramaList

Based on Yuzaki Sakaomi’s manga of the same name, this simple but sweet show follows home-cooking extraordinaire Nomoto Yuki (Higa Manami), who yearns to cook large-scale dishes but doesn’t eat enough to justify making them. Luckily for her, her neighbour Kasuga Totoko (Nishino Emi) has a massive appetite!

It’s always lovely to see more grounded stories about working women, especially when they’re as cute as this one. Though it touches upon some slightly more serious issues, such as with regard to gendered expectations surrounding food and cooking, it’s primarily a feel-good slice-of-life show about two women getting to know each other by cooking and eating delicious food together.

Side note: if you’ve started it and think the show doesn’t look cosy enough, stick it out for a few more episodes, the production values improve after the first part! Also, the series was renewed for a second season with double the episode count (for a total of 20 episodes) which will start airing on January 29th this year, so this is the perfect time to jump in!

6. Sono Toki, Heart wa Nusumareta / その時、ハートは盗まれた (5 episodes, 1992) (canon) - MyDramaList

Sono Heart, as it’s nicknamed, starts off as a typical heteronormative high school romance: bumbling protagonist Shiina Hiroko (Isshiki Sae) is desperate to get closer to her crush Katase Masato (Kimura Takuya), star of the school basketball team and all-round nice dude. However, a spanner in the works comes slouching along in the form of female classmate Aso Saki (Uchida Yuki, in her debut role), a mischievous, short-haired personification of trouble who Katase turns out to have feelings for. One day, Hiroko gets into a fight with Saki, and they end up having to stay together after school as punishment. But that afternoon gives them the opportunity to bond over a heart-to-heart conversation, and things seem to improve… until, just before leaving, Saki kisses Hiroko. And then everything changes.

Or rather, everything changes eventually. What’s great about this show is that it doesn’t take shortcuts: Hiroko doesn’t instantly fall in love with Saki. Instead, what you get is a surprisingly layered portrait of a high school girl whose coming to terms with queerness is merely a natural extension of reckoning with her burgeoning sexuality. And, because Saki is self-destructive in her depression and makes a game of belittling, worrying, and infuriating anyone who cares about her, it’s really a story about what it means to love another person rather than a romantic ideal. A word of warning, though: Katase is actually quite a large character, as he and Hiroko end up becoming friends. Also, the ending is very abrupt and inconclusive, though rest assured that it doesn’t try to roll back Hiroko’s feelings, or pair either girl off with a guy.

(CW: self-harm, attempted suicide, bullying, homophobia, underage drinking)

7. Chaser Game W: Power Harassment Boss Is My Ex-Girlfriend / チェイサーゲームW: パワハラ上司は私の元カノ (10? 30-minute episodes, 2024) (canon) - MyDramaList | AsianWiki

Probably jumping the gun here as only two episodes have aired as of writing, but I feel honour-bound to recommend this as it’d probably appeal to a lot of people, if only they knew about it! Chaser Game W is a standalone spin-off of Chaser Game, itself an adaptation of a manga of the same name by Matsuyama Hiroshi and Matsushima Yukitarou, but you don’t need to know anything going in.

Protagonist Harumoto Itsuki (former Keyakizaka46 captain Sugai Yuuka) has been assigned a new job: her company has been asked by a Chinese conglomerate to develop a game adaptation of a GL manhua, and she’s been tapped as the project leader. However, what appears to be an exciting prospect soon becomes a terrifying one, as the person sent by the client to supervise turns out to be her ex-girlfriend from university (Lin Dongyu, played by Japanese actress Nakamura Yurika), who is now married to a Chinese man (played by a Japanese actor) and has a child, but remains hell-bent on exacting revenge on Itsuki for their bad breakup. This is a romantic (melo)drama rather than a psychological thriller, though, so you won’t be watching Itsuki getting terrorised the entire time. While she is understandably upset by her ex’s current behaviour, Itsuki can’t forget about their happy days together, and Dongyu herself veers between being a sneering bully and craving Itsuki’s affection.

Do note that the show isn’t without its flaws: it’s very Japanese about the Chinese thing, which is to say it’s filled with comments which range from somewhat offensive to borderline racist, and the script will probably give you a headache if you know even the slightest thing about game development. Your mileage might vary on the ex too, as she can be really quite nasty to Itsuki and her teammates. But if you can overlook those issues, this is a rare prize indeed: a TV drama focusing on a canonical F/F pair, who are specifically exes, and in a workplace setting.

(CW: bullying)

8. Doctor X / ドクターX (7 seasons and counting, 2012~) (subtext) - MyDramaList | AsianWiki

To be very honest, I was in two minds about including Doctor X on this list. It is, with a few notable exceptions, misogynistic and reductive in its depictions of women (especially in the first two seasons), gives too much screentime to objectively awful and subjectively annoying men, doesn’t respect the work done by medical personnel apart from surgeons, and on the technical front is formulaic, repetitive, and often lazy in its writing and presentation. Unfortunately, the dynamic between the genius surgeon protagonist Daimon Michiko (Yonekura Ryoko) and her anaesthesiologist wife partner friend Jounouchi Hiromi (Uchida Yuki) is almost unparalleled in its excellence.

The premise of the series is basic indeed: Daimon Michiko is a freelance surgeon with a healthy disrespect of rules and authority and, unluckily for her detractors, a cast-iron guarantee that she will succeed in any surgery, no matter how difficult. She’s initially portrayed as a lone wolf who’s dismissive of the entire hospital system and anyone who’s part of it— but her interest is piqued by the anaesthesiologist Jounouchi, who is skilled beyond her peers and chafes against the idiocy of her colleagues. For all its flaws, the first season – which is more serious and edgy in tone compared to the others, and isn’t an ensemble cast like the post-S3 seasons – is a fantastic depiction of two people being perfectly matched in skill, intellect, and outlook, and how they come together despite one being standoffish (Jounouchi) and the other not being used to reaching out to or even respecting other people (Daimon).

The seasons after that sadly ditch the emphasis on Jounouchi being Daimon’s professional equal, but in exchange offer up another rare and unexpected gift: two women in their late thirties / early forties who are partners both at work and in private. Jounouchi is Daimon’s designated anaesthesiologist, assisting with nearly every surgery, and she spends so much time at Daimon’s agency-office-slash-house you’d think she’d moved in. Also, after a point they just start being wonderfully dorky and comfortable with each other, while still being consummate professionals in the operating theatre. Although the show is very much focused on Daimon Michiko as its sole protagonist, Jounouchi is undoubtedly the character most significant to her – even more than Daimon’s father figure, the head of the freelance agency – and this is highlighted in the story from time to time. They are very, very good. I just wish the series was better.

Note: If you’re curious, I would recommend watching the very first episode in full– by the end you should know if you’re invested enough to continue, otherwise drop it and live in the happy knowledge that you dodged a bullet. If you aren’t so lucky, I’d advise skipping the surgery segments when they start to bore, and in general to skip liberally. Also, season 4 is not worth watching as a whole, except for the last two episodes, which absolutely should not be missed. Sigh. I can’t speak to seasons 6 and 7, due to having paused mid-S6.

Side note: If you’ve watched Doctor X already and liked it (or at least like Daimon and Jounouchi), but haven’t tried Miss Sherlock yet, definitely give that a go because there seems to be a big overlap in the fandoms. Maybe it’s because they both feature a genius protagonist, have the two largest female characters being work partners, and domestic vibes…?

(CW: sexism, genre-typical gore)

Bonus: SKY Castle / SKY 캐슬 (20 episodes, 2018) (subtext) - MyDramaList | AsianWiki

(Note: slight spoilers for the early episodes, but it’s necessary in order to give a more accurate recommendation regarding the F/F subtext, especially as the show is not primarily focused on any one relationship.)

This one’s a bonus because unlike the others on this list, there’s no close relationship between two female characters which could be interpreted in a romantic light. That’s not too surprising as the show is all about the women of a several super-wealthy families trying to get their children into the top Korean universities (equivalent to the Ivy League) whilst supporting their husbands in the rat race: a decidedly heteronormative premise, albeit one that’s executed in an award-winning manner.

So why am I listing it? Well, it’s because somehow, in this series about heteronormative and highly gendered nuclear families, it features possibly the most erotically-charged dynamic I have seen, even taking season 1 of Killing Eve into account. (Though it takes some time to get there, so if you try it out, please watch at least the first four episodes before making a decision!)

That honour goes to the problematic gem that is the relationship between the main character Han Seo-jin (Yum Jung-ah), who is willing to do whatever it takes to get her daughter into Seoul’s top medical school, and star tutor Kim Joo-young (Kim Seo-hyung), who is known for her 100% success rate. It starts off with a mild push-and-pull, when Han Seo-jin wants Coach Kim to take on her daughter, but is wary of the shady rumours surrounding her; the tutor stands firm, and Han eventually has to swallow her pride and accept the risks. Where it really comes into its own, though, is when Coach Kim starts to pose a legitimate threat to everything Han cares for: her daughter, her marriage (or rather, what her husband can give her), her position in the world. It becomes increasingly clear that Han should just walk away, and indeed she tries to do so many a time, only to bend in the end because the coach is key to fulfilling her dearest wish– and so to Han, for all she rages and resents and fears, Coach Kim is nothing less than temptation itself. This is the beating core of the show, and even as the plotting disintegrates and falls into melodrama in the second half, their scenes together still crackle with delicious tension every time. Watch it.

(CW: suicide, psychological abuse, child abuse, bullying, murder)

[gay-dorito-dust]

Heyyy

So I really liked the Damian Wayne x reader platonic friend thingy your wrote. I really feel like there should be more of those.

Anyways, k cam where to respect something similar. Can u maybe write hc on what it'd be like to be friends w him? Like bantering n stuff and maybe u can focus a bit on how Bruce feels abt it? Oh and bonus points if the reader is awkward.

Toodles!

Being friends with Damian isn’t easy in the slightest, mainly because he doesn’t make it easy for anyone to befriend him in the first place. So the fact that you managed to accomplish that was a major achievement already.

However that didn’t mean anything afterwards was made any easier for you just because you managed to make the impossible become possible. No. Why? Damian is one hell of a dry conversationalist if Titus or animals in general weren’t involved.

He’s basically an extroverts worst nightmare given a human form. For no matter how hard you tried to bait him into giving more then a one word answer out of him, it always ends with Damian not taking the bait and allowing a air of awkward silence to befall you both while everyone else was having a better time then you.

You: hey Damian.

Him: hello l/n.

You: how have you been?

Him: in peak condition, why?

You: it’s because I don’t see you that much outside of school, it’s almost as if your allergic to social interaction.

Him: Tt. why should I go out of my way to do such a thing? I have you as an acquaintance don’t I?

You: I mean yeah I guess-

Him: then I have no need to expand my friend group, for they’ll only disappoint me. Now is that all?

You: I mean there’s not much else to talk about at this point.

Him: good.

*cue to the pair of you sitting in utter, awkward silence*

When Damian says one friend is all he needs, he genuinely means it. One is enough for him. He doesn’t need anymore because he knows that he doesn’t have the time for them. Plus he might not say it out loud but he does appreciate your friendship, even if your both awkward individuals within most social situations, but he is happy that someone finally gave him a chance to be a friend.

So even if you were to ever ask why you were friends it’ll probably go something a bit like this;

You: why are you friends with me?

Him: you aren’t an idiot, plus you’re the only one who isn’t insufferable.

You: is that meant to be taken as a compliment or…

Him: take it as you see fit.

You: okay…

Damian as a friend would be protective i’d like to think? I mean you are literally the first friend he’s made so naturally he’s going to feel something when he sees you being friends with anyone else that wasn’t him.

Was it insecurity that you not day might not want to be his friend anymore? Possibly.

Will he ever admit to it though? No. This is Damian we’re talking about, of course he won’t.

Also being friends with Damian would best summed up as being two people who shouldn’t work but ultimately do either way, kind of like an ‘against all their differences they’re the best of friends’ type of duo because nobody and I mean nobody saw a friendship between you two ever happening. Ever.

Not even the great Bruce Wayne.

Speaking about him. If you ever got to visit the Wayne Manor and meet his father aka THE Bruce Wayne. Take it as a sign as you’ve made it as Damian’s best friend.

Would you shit yourself upon meeting quite possibly the most powerful man in Gotham? Yes and your sweating buckets on top of that, all the while Damian would be stood next to you completely unfazed as he introduced you to his father as his best mate.

Damian: father.

Bruce: Damian.

Damian: *points to you* this is my best friend and I expect that they get treated with respect during their visit here.

You: hi- hello it’s an honour to meet you M-Mr Wayne sir.

Bruce: tell me how you’ve come to befriend my son?

You: we were in the same art class and I noticed that he had no one to sit next to, and so I offered for him to sit with me, keep in mind I’m not that well liked and practically had a whole table to myself, and I’d like to think our friendship started with that small act of kindness Mr Wayne sir.

Bruce: and had Damian been kind to you?

You: in his own unique way sir but I wouldn’t want it any other way.

Bruce: *smiled* you’re a good kid l/n and you can go ahead and drop the formalities and call me Bruce instead. I shall go and tell Alfred to add another plate at the dinner table tonight.

Bruce, upon hearing that Damian had made a friend, wanted to meet you within immediate effect and see whether or not his son made for a good judge of character and he wasn’t disappointed.

Given the fact that you were awkward aside, you were defiantly what Damian needed for a friend, and Bruce was happy to see his son finally get to be normal for once as he watched from the window as Damian practically dragged you out to the spacious backyard with an excitable Titus on your heels as the Great Dane tried to get up and personal with you.

Alfred: they are certainly a pair, aren’t they master Bruce.

Bruce: an odd pair they may seem but they even out the other perfectly. Besides when was the last time Damian looked genuinely happy?

Alfred; can’t say that I recall sir.

Bruce: neither can I. At first I was sceptical but I’m glad being wrong. I can only hope that a friendship like theirs will stand the test of time because there will be times that will test their limits with one another. But if they’re as good a pair as I think they are then they’ll be perfectly fine.

Alfred: couldn’t have put it better myself sir *smiles alongside Bruce as they watched you and Damian act on your own within the others presence while in comfortable silence as Titus fell asleep at both of your feet.*

Yeah you’ll both be alright. You’ve got each other after all and that’s what matters at the end of the day.