#‘I’ll get to it later when I feel like doing it’

[animamii]

even while locked up, Toji will make Valentine's day special for you. He already has a letter sent to you every day leading up to the 14th. Some of them sweet, romantic. Others just straight up dirty. He also has Shiu get you some things, spending the money he has in an offshore bank account.

February 1st

There's a ring at your doorbell, and you sleepily open the door.

"Shiu!" You happily greet before you realize he's holding one of those giant ass bouquets of roses. One of those ramos buchones with the pretty gemstones and your initial spelled out with baby's breath. Flashy as hell. "What's all this?"

"Jus' read the damn letter," he nods to a red envelope, a cigarette dangling out his mouth but away from your precious gift. Toji would kill him even from the inside if he were to find out Shiu got even the slightest of ashes on his girl's gifts. You take the envelope, tracing your name written in Toji’s bold, messy scrawl. You barely close the door before sliding your finger under the seal.

Didn’t forget, baby. I never do. First day, first gift. You better love it. Had Shiu pick out the biggest, most ridiculous thing I could find. My princess only deserves the best, right?

February 2nd

The letter today is simple. Too simple.

Baby, I hope you didn’t think I’d only spoil you with flowers.

Your stomach twists in anticipation. Later that day, you hear a knock. This time, it’s a delivery service. You sign for a package, confusion written all over your face—until you open it. Inside is a velvet box. You slowly open it, and it catches the light, casting rays of color—a necklace, a gold figaro chain with a diamond pendant. Looking closer at the pendant makes your breath hitch.

His initials.

You press your lips together, heart thudding. The note beneath it is shorter this time.

Wear it. Every day. I’ll know if you don’t.

February 3rd

On your front porch it a tiny pink box with another letter perched on top. You open the box first, the whole collection of a lip gloss you wear, one Toji said was his favorite because he loves the scent and the taste when he kisses it off your lips.

I was gonna wait, but fuck it. You know I don’t have patience. I’ve been thinking about you too much, baby. Can’t sleep. Can’t focus. All I can think about is that pretty mouth of yours.

You don’t even finish reading before you slam the letter shut. Your face is on fire. He’s ridiculous. But your fingers linger on the page, gripping it tight. You’re not going to reread it. You’re not.

February 4th

Another gift. This time, it’s a designer perfume. You spray it on your wrist out of curiosity, inhaling the scent—rich, warm, deep. A little spicy yet still sweet. Just like you. A folded note is stuck in the packaging.

This is how I want you to smell when I have you under me.

You hate the way your breath catches. The way you tighten your grip on the bottle, as if that’ll stop the way his words sink under your skin.

February 5th

Shiu hands you the next letter without a word. You expect something dirty again, but instead—

You been eating, baby? Sleeping? You better be taking care of yourself. I’ll be real pissed if I find out you’re not.

You blink at the paper, stomach twisting. You don’t even like that he makes you feel this way. Cared for. Wanted. As soon as you look up, Shiu hands you the bags from behind his back. It's takeout from the place you always went to with Toji. Your favorites are inside, every single thing down to the drink. You knew Toji meticulously picked out each menu item. In the other bag Shiu hands you is self care items. Your creams and serums and even the face masks you force Toji to wear with you.

February 6th

You shouldn’t be looking forward to these letters as much as you do. But you do. This one is short.

You dream about me? Bet you do. Wonder if you wake up wet, missing my hands.

You rip it up, toss it in the trash.

Then, minutes later, you dig it back out, smoothing out the pieces.

You hate him.

February 7th

Another knock at the door. Another gift. This time, it's a dress—silky, short, scandalous.

The note?

Wear this when you come see me.

Your breath catches. He hasn’t mentioned seeing you yet, hasn’t even implied it. But now, it lingers in the air.

February 8th

A different kind of letter today.

If I was there right now, what would you do?

You should throw it away.

Instead, that night, you sit on your bed, staring at it in the dim glow of your bedside lamp, heart pounding in your chest.

February 9th

A small box sits outside your door in the morning. This time it's a velvet pouch. You pull the string, letting the contents slide onto your palm—an anklet, delicate gold with a tiny charm dangling off the chain. This one matches your necklace, his initials are on this one too. You don’t even hesitate this time. You clasp it around your ankle immediately.

This one's gonna be dangling over my shoulder soon.

February 10th

Shiu shows up again. Another box.

Inside? Lingerie.

Red. Lace.

The note is just one line.

Think about me when you put it on.

February 11th

You better be missing me, baby. I know you are.

This time the gift is a whole outfit. One of those flowy white maiden-style off the shoulder dresses, pretty sandals, and even an innocent enough white bra and panty set with cute little bows.

It doesn't go with the letter, which leaves you a tad bit confused.

February 12th

This letter is filthy.

Explicit enough that you don’t even know how he got it past whoever checks his mail.

You have to sit down after reading it.

And take a very cold shower.

February 13th

Another envelope. You open it, expecting a letter. But nope. Just a single ticket to Italy for February 15th. Weird.

February 14th

A single rose sits outside your door, a final letter tucked beneath it.

You should know by now to lock your windows, ma. Don't know what kind of scary men could climb through your window.

What the?? Slowly you turn around, and there he is, in the flesh. All smug and cute like he knows he did a damn good job at surprising you.

"Happy Valentine's Day princess."

[cinnawonbabe]

ATTENTION, PLEASE!

pairings: professor!heeseung x student fem!reader

warnings: teacher x student relationship, forbidden affairs, smut, oral, both receiving, anal play, praise and spankings, legal age gap

overview: y/n was just like any other college girl, crushing on the young and attractive literature professor at the university she attended. one day she’s asked to come back after class and things get a little steamy. who knew being a teacher’s pet was fun?

taglist 🏷️: @nayeoniiz @mheretoreadff @deobitifull @riribelle @jakeswifez @yohanabanana @fkarchve @1013club @rizz00 @kpopjackie @isagistar @wheretheheckis-ssaki @freaky-enhamadswriter @manuosorioh

SORRY IF YOU ASKED FOR A TAG AND DIDN’T GET IT. I COULDN’T TAG MOST BECAUSE YOUR ACCOUNT WAS NOT POPPING UP FOR ME. PLEASE ENJOY! IF THIS DOES WELL AND GET 400 NOTES, I’LL POST A PART TWO!!

it was the first day back from spring break and to say y/n was excited was an understatement. she was overjoyed to see her friends again. while she was getting ready for her first class of the day, literature, and finishing the last touches to her makeup, her friend winter called. y/n answered, putting the phone on speaker so she could multitask talking and finishing getting herself ready.

"girl where are you? class is about to start," winter whisper-yelled through the phone. y/n checked the time, seeing that she was in fact behind schedule.

"fuck, i'm gonna be late," she said, rushing to put her shoes on. after making sure her uniform was neat, she grabbed her bag and phone before running out the door.

"and who are you trying to look cute for?" winter joked with a laugh upon y/n switching the call over to a facetime.

"no one. i just felt the need to dress up today. is the professor there?" she answered while speed walking over to the building her class was held in.

"no. they haven't arrived yet, so you're lucky for once," winter said with a laugh. "hurry though, i saved you a spot," she added and y/n hummed in response as she approached the building.

she made her way inside, picking up her pace so she wouldn't be that late, but ultimately made it to class.

"fucking finally. you're here," winter laughed, taking her bag off the seat next to her for y/n to sit in. "still no professor?" y/n asked and winter shrugged not knowing herself.

you know, after 15 minutes, if a teacher hasn't arrived to class after the set time has passed, class is canceled?" one male student in the back stated.

y/n turned back to see it was one of the football players. most students got to talking with excitement as it was getting close to that 15 minute mark while others were upset that they didn't get to see the professor today, y/n was one of the students who was pretty bummed out.

just when some students were packing up their supplies, the classroom door opened up.

professor lee heeseung rushed in class. "sorry for the wait guys. i was in an important staff meeting about the fair we're having for the homecoming events next week and we kind of got carried away." he said in between breaths.

he took off his blazer and set it down on the podium that was situated in the front of the room. he rolled up his sleeves. "anyone else feeling a bit hot or is that just me?" he asked, chuckling to himself.

all the girls, including y/n, couldn't help but stare at him. watching him intently.

he has to know what he's doing. he just knows how attractive he is. y/n thought to herself.

"no it's hot in here sir. me and my friends think the air conditioning unit has stopped working." one female student stated.

heeseung nodded his head in acknowledgement, "oh i see. i'll have to make a complaint about that later. let me write that down so i don't forget." he said walking over to his desk situated in the corner of the room.

he pulled out a sticky notepad from one of his drawers and grabbed a pen from the cuphold on the desk and scribbled a mental note to himself there.

"okay, considering i was way behind my schedule. i'm going to give you all a break and just let you either stay here to make up work or you can just leave. it's completely up to you all." heeseung said, looking around the classroom after he placed the notepad back on his desk.

most students didn't hesitate to collect their things and bid heeseung goodbye or thank him for his kindness.

of course he smiled and bid those goodbye before turning his attention back to the few students that did decide to stay. which consisted of a two male students, one being a literature major and the other that just so happened to be asleep and the rest we girls that just wanted an excuse to stare at the professor.

"assuming that you all are here for help and to catch up on work so feel free to ask me any questions, okay?" he said once more before heading back to his desk.

y/n watched his backside as he headed to his desk and wondered what his back muscles looked like under his dress shirt. once he sat down he looked back towards the class, catching y/n stare. she imma looked down in embarrassment and busied herself with her studies, not catching the little smirk that made his way on his face.

y/n felt movement beside her and looked over to see her seatmate fixing herself up before calling out to the professor. "professor lee? i need help on one of the older assignments you gave. can you give me a but of assistance with it?" y/n heard her ask.

he nodded and signaled for her to come to his desk and so she did. getting up from her seat, swaying her hips purposely in the process.

she bent over his desk, showing her cleavage to him as she placed her paper down for 'help'.

that's usually how things goes. most girls go out there way to get his attention but from all the things y/n has seen, it doesn't seem to work. he wasn't phased by it and just gave her the help she needed before he sent her back to her seat.

another girl failed. y/n of course hasn't. in fact, she never tried to because she was too scared and too shy to even hold a conversation or even ask him for help but that never stopped him from trying to talk to her.

he had taken an interest in calling on her sometimes for questions she never volunteers herself from.

usually that would end up with her stuttering to answer it or having her frozen from being put on the spot.

after a while of sitting in a somewhat silent classroom, heeseung cleared his throat, gaining everyone's attention. "attention everyone class is just about over and my next class will be here soon." he stated, looking at his wristwatch.

everyone packed up their things and headed out of the class. y/n was just about to leave before she was stopped by heeseung's voice suddenly calling out to her.

y/n stopped where she was near the classroom door, turning to him as he sat at his desk. "yes, professor lee?" she asked. he motioned for her to come to him, waving his hand in a signaling gesture. she was hesitant at first, she wasn't sure if she should or not. she swallowed her own pride and made her way over to him.

"so i wanted to talk to you to see if you'd like to help me later with gathering things for the art and theatre club. they'll be doing most of the creative work and i promised the directors that i'll head to the storage area in the left wing and get the supplies they needed. i can't do it myself, so would you like to help a poor old man like me?" he asked with pleading eyes.

y/n was a bit speechless as to why he chose her out of all people. he wants me to help him? she thought to herself. there was no way out of all the girls in this class, he chose her. she stood there unresponsive for a bit, lost in her own thoughts. it began to worry him a little bit from her sudden quietness. "it's okay if you don't want to i can always just ask-" he couldn't finish his sentence as y/n interrupted him with a slightly raised voice. "no!"

she realized the tone and volume of her voice and felt hot from the embarrassment. she didn’t notice the change in his demeanor, a slight smirk appearing on his face knowing his plan was working.

"uhm i meant no it's okay professor lee, i can help you. i don't mind at all!" she stated a bit too eagerly.

she mentally cursed at herself because of it but nonetheless, heeseung didn't seem to mind. "great!! just meet me back here around 7pm, okay?" he smiled softly, causing y/n’s heart to flutter. he definitely knows the effect he has on her.

she nodded her head in agreement before flashing him a small smile in return. “yes sir,” she retorted before walking out the classroom door. she was lost in her thoughts once again, geeking over the fact that he wanted alone time with her. this was truly a dream come true.

her thoughts soon interrupted by her best friend winter spooking her, “hey!” winter yelled a little bit as she approached her. y/n grabbed her chest as she calmed herself down. “my bad, didn’t mean to scare you,” winter joked before bursting out into a fit of giggles, earning a slap on the arm from her friend. “that’s not funny win,” y/n stated, rolling her eyes playfully as she walked off with winter following close behind her. “so what was that all about?” she asked, jumping in her face as she interrogated her. y/n gently pushed her back, smiling wide as the scene replayed in her mind. even though it just happened moments prior to this conversation, she couldn’t help but reminisce about how he chose her. winter nudged her, bringing her back to reality. “soooo are you going to tell me why hot stuff over there held you back?” she questioned again but y/n only giggled in response, causing her bestie to groan at in annoyance. “its nothing really, he just wants me to help him with something for theatre class and i told him i would,” she replied honestly.

winter stared at her intensely, looking for any glimmer of doubt. she was trying to see if she was lying to her or not. y/n stared back at her clueless as to why her best friend was seemingly trying to intimidate her for some reason. is she jealous? she thought. ultimately, winter shrugged it off. i guess she was being truthful. “well good luck and make sure you use a condom, i’m not ready to be an auntie just yet,” she laughed, nudging her friend. y/n’s eyes widened upon hearing those words leave her mouth. before she could smack her friend, winter took off running, satisfied with the reaction she got from her bestie. y/n followed shortly behind, yelling out threats to her friend as she did so.

__________________________

time seemed to have moved on so fast. it was already 7pm and y/n was making her way back to professor heeseung’s classroom. i hope this doesn’t look suspicious. she was having second thoughts. maybe this was a bad idea. she didn’t want to get caught up in something that wasn’t true, even though she wished it was. she didn’t want people to think she was having a secret affair with her teacher, but then again she didn’t actually mind it at all. she longed for him to caress her ever so gently. she wanted to feel his lips against her own but who didn’t? every girl on campus wanted a piece of him but can you blame them? he’s in his late twenties teaching hormonal nineteen and twenty year olds. a lot of his students were fresh out of highschool so seeing a young professor was like winning the lottery.

eventually she made it towards his classroom door, peering inside. it was dark and the only form of light was coming from the hallway where she stood. she scanned the room as best as she could but there was no sign of him. maybe he had forgotten. as she was about to walk away she ran face first into something or someone. she looked up and was face to face with heeseung himself. oh god. she thought. a light blush painted her face as she realized how close they were so she took a few steps back. “sorry, i should’ve been paying more attention to where i was going,” she apologized, her eyes averting her vision everywhere but his.

the view was astonishing to him. their slight height difference boosted his ego. it empowered him. he knew exactly what he what he was doing. y/n was timid and kept to herself. she wasn’t like the other girls he taught.

everyday a female student would force themselves onto him any chance he got. he was used to all the attention he gotten. he may not have shown it but he did enjoy it. so it was weird that y/n never seemed to try. he knew she found him attractive but she never seem to give him the time of day. so he started making moves. calling on her during class even though she never raised her hand, taking initiative to talk to her after class whenever he could because he knew it made her heart race. the innocence she portrayed had drawn her in. it was something he had to obtain, more so, alter it. he wanted her to be his, to hold, to control. that’s exactly how they ended up here. he falsified the ‘i need help’ teacher act. he knew she would fall for it. she was oblivious to it all.

he stared at her for a moment before he spoke, “it’s okay, i was just heading in,” he stated before moving passed her and towards the door. he unlocked it and entered the room, holding the door open for her. “are you joining me still?” he asked tenderly, his voice soft and sweet. it made her heart skip a beat. he was pure gold to her. a soft hearted, well-mannered, absolutely beautiful, educated and elegant man was spending alone time with her. she was head over heels for him.

she hummed in response and followed in right behind him. upon entering he closed the door, discreetly locking it without her noticing and flicked on the lights. “i hope you don’t mind, i have to gather up a few paperwork before we head that way, is that fine?” he asked, making his way towards his desk. he sat down, picking up groups of scattered papers that sat disorganized on his desk. he neated placed them into piles before putting them in his briefcase that he brought with him. y/n walked closer, gazing over at him. she watched

him quietly, fiddling with her fingers as she did so. she couldn’t help but think about what winter said earlier. imagining her professor fucking her on this desk right now.

images of him pounding into her core flushed her mind, making her core leak from the slight horniness that had taken over her. she was so lost in thought she couldn’t hear heeseung calling out to her. he then cleared his throat, finally gaining her attention. she looked up at him, face flustered. she looked absolutely stunning to him; no, beautiful actually. he wanted to ruin her. “you’re one of my best students?” he asked, getting up from his seat and walked over to the front of his desk where he leaned up against it.

she was dumbfounded, “i am?” she asked innocently, her brows furrowed slightly in confusion. heeseung found it adorable, she really didn’t have a clue in the world. “precisely. you’ve never been the type to throw yourself at me. that’s what i like about you,” he continued, making her all flustered again. he truly was enjoying this moment right now. “i’m just not the kind of girl. you’re my teacher not a love interest,” she said truthfully, but he didn’t like that response. he knew better than that and so did she. they both wanted each other more than anything right now.

he began to loosen his tie, then slowly unbuttoned his dress shirt. “is that really how you feel?” he asked, finally pulling his shirt open, revealing his toned abdomen. she stared in awe as she watched him strip in front of her. his shirt sliding off his shoulder and falling to the ground. her eyes trailed down his figure. he was a sight to see that’s for sure. she noticed a tent forming in his pants and she audibly gasped unintentionally. a smirk appeared on his lips. gotcha. he thought.

she didn’t know how to react in this very moment. what was she supposed to do? her very attractive literature teacher was standing shirtless in front of her. that’s every girl on campus dream and yet here she was living it.

“i-i don’t know if this is appropriate professor,” she stuttered, averting her gaze towards the floor. she stared at her sneakers until another pair of shoes came into view. she froze. too scared to look up now knowing how close he was to her. he took his hand and gently tilted her head upward so they were facing each other. she gulped, now meeting eyes with a different side of her professor. and truth be told, she was enjoying every second of it. “i want you more than anything right now,” he said, disregarding her previous statement of whether this was appropriate between the two. he didn’t care. nine years wasn’t that big of an age gap for him. she was nineteen and he was twenty- eight years old. how bad could this be?

he looked her in her eyes, searching for any sign he needed to know what his next move was. there it was, like a flicker. he smiled mischievously, pondering his next move but was surprised by her crashing her lips onto his.

she kissed him hungrily. she couldn’t hold it any longer. she needed him right now.

heeseung snaked his arm around her, grabbing her thighs to signal her to jump. she did, jumping into his embrace and wrapping her legs around his waist as their lips danced in one another.

he carried her to his desking, next faltering this kiss. he sat her on the edge, slipping his tongue in her mouth and explore every crevice of it. she moaned into the kiss, sucking on his tongue as he fiddled with the hem of her shirt. he broke the kiss, pulling her shirt over her head, taking it off and tossing it on the floor.

y/n took that time to catch her breath before he smashed his lips back on to hers. she grabbed his belt loosening it up but before she could pull them down he stopped her, grabbing ahold of her hands, “not so fast baby, lets take it slow.”

she whined, disappointed and desperate. he laughed, placing a small and shirt kiss on her lips. he unclipped her bra, sliding it off her. her breasts we plumped and perky. just how he liked them. he attached his mouth to one breast, sucking and swirling his tongue around her nipple. she bit back a few moans that threatened to slip out. she felt elastic. she knew what they were doing was so wrong but it felt so right. the adrenaline rush she got from this turned her on more. at any given moment they could be caught by anyone, a dean, a security guard, or a fellow student passing by.

she didn’t care at all, it thrilled her actually. fueling her desires even more. she watched and he alternated between each of her breast, leaving love bites all over her chest before proceeding to kiss down to the hem of her skirt, he didn’t care to take those off, he wanted to fuck her in her cute little uniform skirt so he pushed them up to get a better view of her leaking core.

a small chuckle left his lips upon seeing how soaked her panties were just from them kissing. she felt a little embarrassed hearing him laugh and tried to shut her legs but he stopped her from doing so. “don’t hide baby, she’s beautiful. let’s she was she looks like without these in the way,” he reassured her, sliding her pantines to the side to get a better look and her dripping core.

her little cunt made him go crazy. he looked up at her as he licked between her flaps. the warmth of his tongue sent shivers down her spine. he placed small kisses on her clit, edging her on. he wanted to tease her and have her begging for more.

y/n was too impatient and grabbed a fistful of his hair, shoving his face into her leaky cunt, heeseung obliged, giving her what she wanted. he began to eat her out, sucking on her clit and flicking his tongue in a way that made her toes curl. soft moans escape her mouth but she didn’t care. everything felt so good right now. place her legs above his shoulders and started to slowly grind against his face. the pleasure building up as she felt ecstatic. she threw her head back, moaning loudly as she continued to hump his face. he watched her as she got closer to her climax, he took two of his digits and plunged them deep into her pretty little cunt.

a loud gasp was heard from her, feeling his fingers deep inside him. he thrusted them faster, curling them as he hit her sweet spot, earning beautiful moans from y/n. he absolutely loved it. he was marking what was rightfully his. he continued his pace as she grew closer to her climax. he sucked a little harder on her clit, humming, sending vibrations to her core. a familiar pit grew in her stomach.

she was close, so so close and couldn’t contain it any longer. she screamed, forgetting where she was for a moment. her back arching as she squirted into his mouth, causing him to choke a little bit as her juices hit the back of his throat. she rode out her orgasm and she grinded on his face more before falling back onto his desk breathless.

heeseung stood up, dropping his pants to the floor as he looked down at her tired little figure laying on his desk. “we’re not finished yet, angel,” he said, stroking his long and thick member in his hand. she looked up, her eyes widened. there was no way in hell that was going to fit in her. “can daddy have some head baby?” he asked softly and she nodded, getting off his desk and kneeling before him. he cooed, watching her doe eyes stare up at him. he was loving this view of her better. she parted her lips slightly as he began to slap his cock against her face.

“open your mouth wide baby,” he instructed and she obliged, parting her lips more as s

he slid his cock right in. his breath hitched in his throat. the warmth of her mouth engulfing his seven inches did something to him. he let her take control, watching her bob her head on his thickness, taking every inch and girth of his cock. “yes baby. just like that. you’re doing so good for me,” he praised, encouraging her more. she forced herself to deep throat him, gagging as she did. he grunted at the feeling of her throat hugging his member, her gagging made the feeling even better.

her eyes started to brim with tears as his cock hit the back of her throat, drool dripping down her chin.

she took her hand and stroked him while sucking him off. this pleasure alone could’ve made him cum but he was determined to last. he grabbed her by her hair, pulling her off him to keeping him for cumming then and there. she winced from the harsh grip but didn’t stop it. she liked how rough he was getting. it turned her on even more.

he bent down crashing his lips onto hers. he didn’t care that she just had his cock in his mouth, he was a real man like that. kissing her hard and tasting himself on her before he pulled back. “open your fucking mouth!” he exclaimed, and she did without hesitation. he spit in her mouth and she swallowed it so effortlessly. “you like that my nasty little slut?” he asked and she whined in response.

he slipped his cock back into her mouth, fucking her throat hard, she choked out a cry around his member. he didn’t care. he kept fucking her mouth hard and deep, moaning loudly. “fuck just like that baby,” he said once more. he felt his climax coming soon so he pulled right back out. “bend over my desk,” he ordered. she got up slowly, her legs wobbling a bit. he couldn’t help but laugh, “don’t laugh,” she pouted and he cooed at her, he helped her lay her stomach flat onto his desk, her bottom side completely exposed.

he bit his lip at the sight in front of him, rubbing his hands against her firmly plumped ass cheeks. he needed to mark them. he took his big hand and smack down on her ass hard, causing a scream of pain and pleasure from y/n. this was all so new to her. she never knew she’d like being treat like a fuck toy by her hot professor. he brought a side of her she didn’t know she possessed. he lashed at her ass a few times, the classroom echoing from skin slapping and cries coming from y/n. who knew being a teacher's pet could be so fun.

handprints now decorated her ass and he was more that pleased to know that it was because of him. only he could have her like this.

he positioned himself at the entrance of her core, “spread for me baby,” he told her softly. she reached back, grabbing her ass cheeks and spread them open; giving him more access to come right on in. he spat between her crack, using his dick to wipe it down towards her cunt before sliding the tip in. they both moaned out in pleasure upon contact.

she felt every bit of his cock slide into her tight little cunt before he bellowed out. his whole member filled her to the brim. he sat there for a moment, letting her adjust to his size before he began to move. slowly thrusting in and out of her, he pace precise and steady.

the desk began to squeak against the floor as he thrusted harder than before, yelps of pleasure falling from her lips. he was digging into her guts. it felt like his tip was touching the inside of her stomach. her moans encouraging him to go harder. he dugges his cock deeper into her, her ass clapping against his skin. the room filled with the sounds of them fucking. he hoped they wouldn’t get caught but parts of him did. he wanted people to see the whore he was making out of her. he wanted people to know who she belonged to. he felt her wet cunt hug his girth, bringing both of them to their high, he fucked her harder, sliding his thumb in her ass. she screamed once more from the unexpected intrusion. fuck. he thought.

the pleasure was becoming too much for her, she couldn’t handle it any longer. both her holes were filled, a sensation she never knew she needed. “fuck baby i’m gonna cum,” he said and she could only moan out incoherent nonsense in response. that drove him nuts. he picked up his pace, fucking her to her climax. she cried out loud as the pleasure was unbearable and came hard once again.

this drove heeseung to his climax as well, cumming deep and hard into her. they hadn’t worn a condom. his cum filling her deep and oozing out with every little thrust he gave before him finally pulled out. he placed a kiss on her back before watching his thick load spill right out of her cunt. he didn’t care that they didn’t play it safe. to be honest, baby didn’t sound that bad to him. she was stuck with him regardless.

he reached over to the tissue box on his desk and began to clean her up and help her get dressed before dressing himself. she sat back up on his desk, her makeup ruined from all the sweat and tears she indured with getting her brains fuck out.

“you’re mine princess, got it?” he stated, pulling her close. she tiredly hummed in response, too warn out to say a word. a small smile formed on both of their faces before they snuck back out and went their separate ways.

the next day rolled around and y/n was heading to class where she met up with winter. “so how was it?” winter asked, and y/n furrowed her brows. “how was what?” she asked and winter laughed.

“how was it when you sucked his dick?” she joked, causing y/n to freeze. how did she know? did someone see us? she thought. winter nudged her friend. “i’m just joking god. i know nothing happened. you don’t have it in you to do something of that nature,” winter assured her, causing her to relax again. she didn’t know after all. y/n laughed, “i don’t think i could ever do anything like that,” she lied.

their conversation was cut short upon professor heeseung entering the class room. “good morning everyone!” he greeted, and most of them greeted back. him and y/n locked eyes momentarily, causing her to blush and look away before he began today’s lesson.

winter grew a little suspicious of that little encounter but said nothing.

if only she knew what was to come in the near future.

THE END!!

[theliteraryarchitect]

5 Reasons NOT to Use Multiple Point of View (and What to Do Instead)

I've been meaning to make this post for a long time. As a developmental editor, I see a LOT of manuscripts that use multiple point of view (where each scene or chapter is from the perspective of a different character), when they really should be using a classic single character POV. Over the years, I've come to the conclusion that writers see multiple POV as a solution to problems that really shouldn't be solved that way. Basically, they're using it for the wrong reasons. And when that happens, instead of making the story more awesome, multiple POV can actually weaken it.

Here are five of the most common reasons writers choose multiple POV (and why those reasons might be a problem). Don’t worry—I’ll also share what to do instead.

1. You Don’t Know What Your Story Is About

Sometimes, when writers aren’t 100% clear on their story’s main conflict, theme, or plot, they reach for multiple POV. It feels like a fix—after all, why focus on one perspective when you can try out a little of this and a little of that?

Here’s the thing: multiple POV actually requires you to be more clear about your story, not less. Readers will naturally look for a thread that ties all the perspectives together, and if that thread isn’t there, the story will feel scattered or aimless.

What to Do Instead: Take a step back. If you’re feeling unsure about what your story is really about, try some journaling or outlining. Ask yourself:

What’s the main conflict?

Who’s the central character?

Why am I telling this story?

Often, writers discover they actually have one protagonist, and a limited third or first-person perspective would work better. If you still feel like multiple POV is the right call, go for it! Just be sure to periodically revisit your outline to make sure the story hasn’t “gotten away” from you. (Multiple POV has a sneaky way of doing that.)

2. You Haven’t Developed Your Characters

Multiple POV doesn’t work unless each character is fully developed. Every POV character needs their own voice, journey, and reason for being in the story. If they can’t stand on their own, readers will notice.

What to Do Instead: Before assigning a POV, ask yourself:

Is this character compelling enough to hold the reader’s attention?

Do they add something essential to the story that no one else can?

If the answer is no, it might be better to stick with a single POV. Sometimes less is more.

3. You Can’t Decide on a POV Character

This one is common, especially in early drafts. You’re still figuring out your story, and it’s hard to choose whose perspective should take center stage.

What to Do Instead: Experiment! Write key scenes from different characters’ perspectives. Often, the strongest voice will make itself known as you go. And remember: just because you write a draft with multiple POV doesn’t mean you can’t narrow it down later.

4. You Need to Share Information Your POV Character Doesn’t Have

Ah, the classic "But how do I show this thing the protagonist doesn’t know?" dilemma. This is probably the most common reason I see writers reach for multiple POV. It’s tempting to throw in a chapter or two from another character’s perspective just to share that extra bit of information.

The problem? Those chapters often feel disconnected from the rest of the story. Every POV character needs to carry their weight, and dropping in a random narrator just for convenience can leave readers feeling unsatisfied.

What to Do Instead: There are other ways to get information across. Here are a few ideas:

Educated Guesses: Let your main character speculate. (“Iris kept tapping her pencil on the desk. Was she nervous about the meeting earlier?”)

Show, Don’t Tell: Use actions, dialogue, or other clues to reveal what another character might be thinking.

Bring in a New Element: Introduce a third character, a conflict, or even an object that reveals something important.

Overhearing or Spying: Yes, it’s a little cliché, but when used sparingly, it can work in a pinch.

5. You’re Looking for an Easy Way Out

Let’s be honest: multiple POV can feel like a catch-all solution to tough storytelling problems. Need to fix pacing? Add another POV! Can’t figure out how to make the ending work? Add another POV!

But here’s the truth: multiple POV is actually harder than other POVs. You’re not just developing one character—you’re developing several, and you have to tie all their perspectives into a cohesive whole.

What to Do Instead: Focus on nailing the story with a single POV first. Once you’re confident the core of the story is solid, you can decide if adding other perspectives will truly enhance it.

In Summary

Multiple POV is a powerful tool, but it’s not a shortcut. It requires careful planning and strong execution. If you’re considering it, ask yourself:

Does every POV character bring something unique to the story?

Am I clear on the main conflict and theme?

Could this story be told just as well (or better) with a single POV?

Sometimes, the simplest route is the best one.

Hope this helps!

/ / / / / / / / / / /

@theliteraryarchitect is a writing advice blog run by me, Bucket Siler, a writer and developmental editor. For more writing help, download my Free Resource Library for Fiction Writers, join my email list, or check out my book The Complete Guide to Self-Editing for Fiction Writers.

[musingsofmajesty]

𝐚 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 | 𝐬𝐡𝐲 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐱 𝐟𝐥𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐯𝐨𝐥. 𝐈𝐈

summary now that you’ve kissed, the two of you can’t help but wonder what it means moving forward. Luckily, it’s so easy being with each other that taking it day by day doesn’t seem half bad | wc 1.1k

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[best enjoyed in order, but not required! ♡]

.・゜゜・ ・゜゜・．

If it’s one thing shy!eddie knows well, it’s labels. They’ve been forced on him all his life. But this—whatever has blossomed between the two of you—he can’t quite pin down. And the universe sure as hell isn’t gonna step in and do it for him. For once, the cards are in his hands, and he doesn’t know what to do with them. 

Later that night, he walks you out to your car, and it’s one of the hardest things he’s ever done. The feeling of your lips still lingers on his. He’s never wanted anyone to stay as badly as right now.

Nevertheless, you hug him one last time, and he gets the door for you without second thought because he’s always done so. Even before you made butterflies a permanent fixture in his stomach. 

“Thanks, Teddy,” you lilt as you settle behind the wheel. “Can I call you that?” You’re teasing, but only partly.  His blush is evident in the glow of the streetlamps that illuminate Forest Hills against the night. 

He hasn’t heard that nickname since it came past his mother’s lips when he was a boy. He smiles a little, lifts a shoulder as if he’s more indifferent than he is. “If you want," he says. 

You’re quiet for a beat, then cutely scrunch your nose up at him. “But what do you want?”  Eddie blinks like he hasn’t heard the likes of this question in a long while. 

“You can call me Teddy,” he decides. You could call him Edward for all he cared. Whatever you wanted, really. That’s when he realizes he’s in trouble. The best kind. 

Shy!Eddie who can’t pinpoint the exact moment it happens, but realizes he’s begun to pay more mind to the way he looks—undoubtedly because of you. One morning at 7 AM, his Uncle Wayne knocks on the bathroom door. Inside, he hears the startled sound of a tub of hair gel tumbling into the sink. “Shit—I’ll be out in a second!” 

An affectionate smirk pulls at Wayne's lips. “Guess I'll use it outside like a dog,” he jokes.  

Later that day, as Mrs. O’Donnell lectures the class, Eddie feels you poke the end of your pencil into the side of his ribcage from where you sit behind him. The way he straightens makes you smile, and he shoots a discreet glance over his shoulder to see what you want. Except your gaze is cast out the window in feigned innocence. 

Three minutes later, he curls in on himself as the ticklish pokes start up again. This time, you pass him a ripped piece of notebook paper that features your neat, bubbly handwriting: hi, handsome ;) 

All Eddie can do is helplessly flush with warmth. 

A couple weeks later, as you’re painting your nails on your best friend’s bedroom floor, you think aloud, “Me and Eddie.” Robin peers down at you from her bed, where she absentmindedly braids a strand of her hair. “I think we’re a sure thing.” 

Her brows lift in surprise. “So you’re official?” 

You purse your lips in consideration. “No, we’re just…us.” 

Robin frowns at first, but eventually nods because, maybe, that’s all love was ever meant to be. Unadulterated in the sense that it could never be bogged down to titles and definitions. 

“Sweet,”  she finally says. 

You nod and begin to smile at the thought of him. The way he gives you his full attention whether you’re talking about life at large or your day. The way he bites back his own goofy smile whenever he unintentionally makes you laugh—which happens all the time. The way he’s welcomed you into his little world.

You’re remiss that you weren’t braver sooner. 

“Yeah,” you agree in a wistful exhale. It is pretty sweet. You raise your hand to gently blow over the sheer pink polish coated on your fingertips. 

Like clockwork, the dismissal bell sounds to denote the end of yet another school day. A few more months, and you'll be kissing these stuffy, bustling halls goodbye.

Eddie catches up with you at your locker and asks if you’d like to go hang out with him in the woods behind the school. It’s nice out today. 

You narrow your eyes as you shut the metal door. “So was this your plan all along? Get my guard down so you can lure me into the woods and go in for the kill?” 

He knows you’re joking, but his answer is sincere anyway. His big bambi eyes dark and gooey as he says, “Never. No way.”

There’s a picnic table nestled amidst the tall trees, as it turns out. A calming breeze glides through the branches and rustles their leaves. Eddie sits first and expects you to choose the bench across from him, but you sit on the same side. You want to be near him. He can’t complain.

A comfortable silence settles between you that he eventually breaks. “Used to come out here a whole lot," he says. “I’d write songs or sit and listen to music," he lists. "Enjoy the scenery…” his words fade as his eyes settle back on you. There’s a tender depth to your gaze. 

He smiles a bit self-consciously, but he's not exactly embarrassed. More so hyperaware because you always make him feel so seen. “What?” he murmurs. 

Without a single word, you scoot closer to press your lips to his. One of his hands rise to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing across your skin. This kiss is different. Deeper. Unlike your usual affectionate pecks in every way. 

Warmth kindles in your stomach when his initial hesitancy dissipates. As he finds his way, his lips move sure and easy against your own. Plush and warm. You can feel his gentle exhales puff from his nose, and against your own desire, you slowly begin to pull away to ensure all this is alright.  

But Eddie’s okay. He’s more than okay. For the first time since he’s known you, he feels the soft tug of frustration in his chest. Except it’s not rooted in irritation. It’s rooted in want. 

When he leans back in, cheeks flushed and dark eyes hopeful, you let his lips just barely graze yours before you pull away. He tries again, and you lean back once more, flustered and excited by his newfound boldness. 

You place a gentle hand on his chest and chuckle despite yourself. “Easy, Teddy,” it’s a honeyed warning that carries no bite. 

“C’mere,” he insists, a pout on his face even though it's threatened by a smile. "Wanna kiss you." His voice drops low and shy, like it's a secret.

When you giggle, butterflies aflutter in your stomach, he takes it upon himself to hold you steady and kiss the sweet sound from your lips. 

The two of you are a sure thing, indeed.

Thanks for reading! All likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated ♡

a/n making this a series because I can't get enough of these two. Stay tuned for the formal announcement!

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[iamnotoriginalphil]

A Study in Forever (Professor!Agatha Harkness x f!Reader)

Synopsis: Rio returns, expecting you to be gone. Instead, Agatha chooses to teach her a lesson she won't soon forget.

Words: 4.3k

Warnings: Voyeurism, fingering (R receiving), edging, exhibitionism, possessiveness, objectification, orgasm delay, dom!Agatha, swearing

Tags: @sasheemo @buttercandy16 @chlondykebar @midnight-lestrange @babybeeelle @dontsblameme@grilledcheeseandguavajelly @fuckedupforkhahn @latedawnsearlysunsets92

The summer was dripping past in long days and soft nights. Moving into Agatha’s house had been as simple as shoving some clothes in her wardrobe and books on her bookcase. The summer heat had made you lazy without the need to constantly produce work for Agatha. And with that came lounging around the house.

Agatha had spent plenty of time telling you that draping over her couch was not going to work as seduction. And then she’d descend on you and burn you up with her mouth. It certainly seemed to work as a seduction tactic.

It probably helped that the heat left you wearing very little clothing. Shorts, crop tops, bikinis on the few attempts you’d made to go swimming. Each time her hands would be on your skin and you’d forget whatever it was you’d been trying to do. You couldn’t complain, knowing exactly what you were doing when you put on those clothes.

You were lying on her couch, under the fan, a worn paperback dangling from your fingers. Your eyes were closed, feeling the air waft over your bare skin, half asleep in the warm cocoon of the summer heat. Agatha had locked herself in her office under the grumbled excuse of having to actually get some work done. You’d grinned and sent her off with a lingering kiss, knowing she’d come find you sooner or later. She always did. It was like she couldn’t keep away from you.

It was one of the things you loved about her.

A knock sounded on the front door. You startled, the loud noise not something you’d been expecting. It was the middle of the afternoon and you knew Agatha wasn’t expecting anyone. She usually told you to make sure you weren’t wandering around the house half naked. Not that you thought she’d really have a problem with that. Not if she could stake her claim in front of everyone.

You knew she’d been thinking about that whole voyeurism dream you’d shared with her.

You swung your legs off the sofa, knowing Agatha probably wouldn’t have heard from behind the heavy office door she’d shut in your pouting face. Pulling the door open, you weren’t sure what to expect. Maybe one of the neighbours. Sharon had grown especially friendly over the last few weeks.

Rio was definitely the last person you expected to be there.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

Her perfect face was marred with a look of disgust. Pushing past your initial shock, you let a smile take over your face, doing your best to do that sparkling thing Agatha accused you of doing to get your way.

“I live here,” you replied.

“So you’re still around,” Her head tilted to the side, “I can’t say I was expecting that.”

“I know,” you said.

“Is Agatha here?” she asked, dark eyes narrowing.

“She’s kind of busy at the moment but I’ll let her know you stopped by,” you said, already beginning to close the door.

Her hand slammed into it, holding it open. You pursed your lips, but let her lean towards you.

“Go tell her I’m here, little girl,” she said, her voice a hiss.

“If she wanted to see you, she’d be in contact,” you said, “I think her silence tells you enough.”

You’d won the war, you’d gotten the girl, you weren’t letting this intimidating woman come in and fluster you enough to steal your place in Agatha’s life. Her hand reached out, curling around a strand of your hair. She tugged on it, hard enough to feel a sharp pain in your scalp. It was nothing like when Agatha pulled on your hair, none of the liquid heat melting through your veins.

“Trust me, she’ll want to see me,” she whispered, pulling you closer to her.

“If I’ve taught you anything, pet, it’s not to trust such a self serving bitch like this.”

A hand slid around your waist, chin digging into your shoulder. You lent back against the familiar body, relaxing at her steady presence. Rio let go of your hair, straightening again as her eyes swept over the picture you made with Agatha. You knew how you looked wrapped up in her arms, comfortable and simply hers. You liked it, having her claim staked in front of someone who so obviously wanted it instead.

“What do you want?” Agatha asked, voice chilling in a way that turned it to ice.

“Since you’ve found someone to stick around, I thought I’d offer my services to teach her exactly how to please you,” she said, her eyes sliding from you to her, lips curling up in a familiar smirk.

“I think I’ve got it covered,” you said, “I’ve heard no complaints from her.”

“Because I have none. You’ve been doing wonderfully, kitten.” Her lips pressed to the vulnerable skin behind your jaw, making you shiver and press back into her. She chuckled, her fingers splayed over the bare skin of your stomach, nails gently dragging over it.

Dark eyes zeroed in on the hand on your stomach, an interested tilt to her head. You felt your breath catch, knowing she was watching you, wondering what she was thinking, seeing exactly how much Agatha wanted you. Your lips parted, the heat you felt under your skin unexpected but not unpleasant.

“You’re not even going to invite me in for a refreshing glass of lemonade?” she asked, gaze dragging back up to your face, “I’ve come such a long way to visit.”

“What do you think, pet? Should we let her in?” Agatha asked, lips brushing the shell of your ear.

“One drink wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world,” you said, grinning when her nails dug in.

The trouble with you was you were beginning to enjoy flaunting your relationship with Agatha. You wanted Rio to see it, to have to face the fact that you’d won, to rub it in her face. Agatha had made her decision and it was you.

She wasn’t needed anymore.

Your fingers tangled with Agatha’s as you led her to the back of the house, knowing it would annoy Rio. You pulled open the fridge door, the lemonade you’d made the day before waiting. Agatha’s hands were on your hips as you poured three tall glasses, ice cubes clinking against the sides. Her lips made a home on your neck. Rio was still watching. Your skin heated but you didn’t tell Agatha to stop.

“We can drink in the living room,” Agatha said after a moment.

She plucked one of the glasses from you, shoving the other across the counter at Rio. She caught it, hissing when some sloshed over the side onto the skin of her hand. Holding eye contact with Agatha, she licked it off, tongue slow as it dragged over her own skin. Her hand tightened around you, dragging you into the living room.

Rio settled on the couch, right where you’d been lounging. She lent back, legs spread, taking a long drink from her glass. Agatha sat in the armchair, one leg crossed over the other. You perched on the arm next to her, grinning when her hand landed on your thigh, fingers digging into your skin.

“You’ve built quite the little love nest for yourself here,” Rio said, her eyes focused on the hand on your leg.

“I don’t think it’s a love nest when we live together,” you replied, fingers winding through Agatha’s hair.

“You’ve moved in?” Her eyebrows raised for just a moment.

“That surprises you?” Agatha asked.

“Only because the last woman you lived with was me,” she said.

The way she was looking at Agatha was like she owned her. She had been the first and she probably had thought she would be the last but then you had come along and ruined all her plans. You weren’t going to let her ruin yours.

“And what a disaster that turned out to be,” Agatha drawled.

“I thought we had fun,” she said, long finger slow to draw along the rim of her glass, “you certainly seemed to enjoy being hidden away with me in very close quarters.”

“Until it became claustrophobic,” she replied.

“And now you have so much space. I’m sure you can go days without seeing one another,” she said, eyes flicking to you.

Agatha’s hand tugged on your leg. You slid off the arm of the chair into her lap. Molten in her hands, you let her spread your legs, forcing them to fall either side of both of hers as you lent back against her soft curves. Her chin rested on your shoulder as her hand pressed into your lower stomach.

“Lucky for me neither of us want that much space,” she said, lips brushing the underside of your jaw.

It was automatic, the way you tilted your head to give her more access. Dark eyes watched as she ran her tongue up the length of your neck before her teeth closed over your earlobe. You whimpered, the flutter of your pulse turning you breathless.

“Isn’t my pet so pretty?” Agatha asked, turning her gaze back to Rio, “how could I want to stay away from her?”

Rio hummed, not quite a proper response. Chilled fingers brushed over your skin, still wet from the condensation on the glass of lemonade she must have put down. Your lips parts and your muscles tightened under her touch. Her chuckle was low, a vibration you felt against you, the kind that said you were in trouble.

Or about to have a lot of fun.

“But I don’t like other people touching my toys,” she continued, hand beginning to trace patterns into your skin, brushing higher and higher up your body.

“I remember,” Rio replied, a rough hum, “but you never seemed to have a problem sharing with me.”

“This one’s different. She’s special,” she said, hand slipping under the hem of your crop top.

In the warm summer air the heat of her hand felt unbearable, and the thought of losing it was inconceivable. Lips pressed to the underside of your jaw. You wiggled in her lap, the low thrum of arousal familiar and comforting, and yet somehow indecent under the watchful gaze of Rio.

“No one’s that special,” Rio said.

“She is,” Agatha hummed, “the first taste I had of her I knew there was no one like her. I’d never get enough. If I could, I’d have her chained to my bed, at my beck and call, this pussy on demand.”

Her fingers played with the button of your shorts. She ignored the small noise you made. The way your breath stuttered out of your parted was ignored too.

“You’ve never tasted her. You’ve never heard what she sounds like when she comes. You’ve never seen the way she looks when she’d begging for her release,” she continued.

Her fingers popped open the button on your shorts. The other hand cupped your breast, over the top of your bra, squeezing it roughly. You made a small mewling noise, arching into her hand. Dark eyes raked over your body, lingering on where the hand was groping you.

“If you’d seen her come undone, you wouldn’t be giving her up either,” Agatha said.

“Are you offering?” Rio asked.

“You’ll never touch her,” she said as her hand pushed into your shorts, slipping into your underwear.

“You sure about that?” she asked.

“Go on, pet. Tell her. Will she ever touch you?” Agatha asks, lips brushing the shell of your ear.

Her fingers ghosted over your clit.

“No,” you managed to say, trying to sound as normal as possible. You were certain you’d failed from the way Rio’s gaze snapped down to your spread legs.

“And why’s that?” Agatha asked, keeping her voice to a gentle hum.

“Because I’m yours,” you replied.

Her fingers ran through your folds, feeling how wet you already were. Slow to circle your clit, she pressed her lips to yours in a gentle kiss, almost the complete opposite of what this situation had turned into. Your head fell back against her shoulder with a soft sigh.

“You see? I’ve trained her so well. I give her everything she needs. Why would she ever want someone like you?” Agatha taunted.

“You think she’ll stay with you? This young, pretty thing? She can find something better. You know I’m the only one who will stay with you forever,” Rio said.

“I’d rather take my chances with her,” Agatha replied.

She was being so slow with you. A teasing touch, soft and not nearly enough. You whined, turning your head towards her ear, wanting her to hear you. Her fingers dipped back down to your entrance, lingering there until you thought you would go mad.

“You’re free to leave at any time,” Agatha told Rio.

“If this is a game I don’t intend to lose,” Rio replied.

Her finger slid into you, so easily it was almost embarrassing. You whimpered, just loud enough to be heard, hips shifting. The hand she’d trailed up your shirt pulled the cup of your bra down, fingers pinching at your nipple. She was slow to roll it between thumb and forefinger, the hand between your legs stroking your inner walls in a way that was making it hard to catch your breath.

“No game,” Agatha hummed.

“Everything with you is a game,” Rio replied.

She lent forward, eyes growing more intent as they focused on your body. Fire was licking at your skin. Your hands clutched at the arms of the armchair, your nails digging into the soft leather.

“My pet isn’t a plaything,” Agatha said, right as her thumb ground against your clit.

Your moan was loud to your own ears. A sharp inhalation came from across the room. Dark eyes seemed to darken as they focused on your face. Under the spotlight of Rio’s attention, you felt yourself set alight. Your lips parted, eyes squeezing closed.

“Look at her. Isn’t she everything a person could want?” Agatha hummed.

Her thumb was moving in tight circles over your clit and you couldn’t breathe properly. Your hips tried to buck into her touch but without feet on the floor you couldn’t get any traction. Her tongue flicked at your earlobe before she found her home at your pulse point.

“I will admit you found a pretty little thing to occupy your time,” Rio agreed, her voice low. Your eyes fluttered open, finding her focused on where Agatha was kissing you, “but how long can she really satisfy you?”

“Just watch. Once you see, then you’ll understand how I could never grow tired of this,” she sighed before her teeth sunk into your skin.

You cried out, begging for more. She smiled into you your skin, tongue soothing over the bruise she had most likely left on your skin. She slid a second finger into you as her thumb slipped away from your clit. Whimpering, you hid your face against her neck.

“Go on, show her, pet,” she coaxed, “let her see you.”

You turned your face back to let Rio watch you. Agatha curled her fingers in reward, causing you to moan her name. You locked eyes with Rio. Her lips were pressed together, hands clasped, hanging between her knees.

Agatha’s thrusts were slow, the pace maddening. It wasn’t nearly enough, but it was making your head spin. You loved when she got rough with you, but this was almost like she wanted to see how far she could stretch your sanity.

“She’s so wet,” Agatha said, “so warm.”

“Agatha,” you whimpered.

“Shh, pet. The adults are talking,” she said.

You shut your mouth, doing as you were told. If you did, then she would reward you. You knew that. If you stopped distracting her, she’d let you come. She’d taught you so well. You would do anything she asked of you.

“See? Such a good girl,” she said, turning her attention back to Rio, “she does exactly what I tell her to.”

“I remember a time when you enjoyed being told what to do,” Rio said.

“I still do sometimes,” she replied, “when my pet has been particularly well behaved.”

“Is she as good as I am?” Rio asked.

“Better.”

Dark eyes, swimming in anger, returned back to you. You couldn’t even focus on her, the thumb back on your clit drawing tight circles, grinding against you until you were panting for breath. Her fingers curled, twisting inside you as her fingers harshly pinched your nipple. You yelped but you were arching into her touch, asking for more.

Rio was leaning closer, gaze focused on the hand in your shorts. You were so close, right on the edge, enjoying the way envy played over the other woman’s face so clearly. There was no way of knowing if she wanted to be you or be Agatha, or both.

“Don’t even think about touching her,” Agatha said, voice sharp.

Your cunt pulsed, loving when her voice became so commanding. Her chuckle was warm against your ear. Rio’s fingers clenched around her glass of lemonade, the ice almost completely melted. She lent back, her chest heaving, a flush still growing high on her cheeks as she watched.

“You’ll never touch her,” Agatha told Rio, “and you’ll never touch me again.”

“We’ll see if you still feel that way when this one has moved on too,” she replied but she didn’t sound so sure.

“Oh she’s not leaving me. She branded herself. She’s mine until she dies,” Agatha replied, and you could hear the smugness in her voice. She was proud of your actions. Even weeks later, her fingers still traced over the words inked on your skin, her name, over and over again until you thought she might wear your skin away.

You loved it.

“And I have complete control over her,” she continued, “don’t I, pet?”

“Yes,” you hissed as her thumb ground down even harder.

You were trembling, holding on for as long as you could. You knew the game she was playing, the example she was making of you. You weren’t going to let her lose face in front of Rio. She needed you to be good, to do this for her.

You would do anything for her.

“You must have spent a lot of time training her,” Rio said.

“Hardly,” she scoffed, not letting up on you for a moment, “she wants to please me.”

“But you enjoy punishment so much,” she said, her voice a caress, trying to taunt her into admitting you weren’t living up to her wishes.

“I enjoy a good girl so much more,” she hummed, “I like a toy that does as she’s told and doesn’t answer back.”

You definitely didn’t always do what you were told and you’d been known to answer back.

“That’s a lie, and we both know it,” Rio said.

“Perhaps, but she does it in such a delicious way I forget she’s pushing the limits,” she said before her lips brushed over your skin.

You were strung tight, trembling, doing everything you could not to fall over the edge. Her fingers were rough, moving in just the way she knew unravelled you. She was making it so difficult for you, and you assumed it was on purpose. She had to make it clear she wasn’t going easy on you. That even under pressure you still did as you were told.

That no one could give her what she wanted like you did.

“But since she’s being so well behaved today, she’s not going to come until I tell her she can,” she murmured, “will you, pet?”

“No,” you whimpered.

Tears pricked at your eyes, holding on so tight it was a physical ache. You were desperate. Her thrusts were fast now palm grinding against your clit. She was unforgiving, harsh in how she was treating you. The other hand was groping your breast, squeezing it, pinching at your nipple. When the tears fell, her teeth sunk into the skin of your neck.

Through the haze of the tears still leaking from your eyes, you saw Rio lean forward again. You squeezed your eyes shut, the heat of her gaze enough to make you breathless and wanton and needy. Agatha’s dark chuckle in your ear only made the whole thing worse.

“Do you see how hard she’s trying? She wants to please me so badly,” she said and you knew it was for Rio’s benefit.

“She is rather pretty when she cries like that,” she replied.

“And all for me,” Agatha said.

The conversation turned fuzzy after that, your entire brain focused on holding back your orgasm. You felt on fire. Every moment it only got worse, closer to turning to ash in Agatha’s lap.

“All mine,” Agatha purred.

You couldn’t stop the whimper that managed to slip past your parted lips. She didn’t reprimand you, her lips pressing to your temple.

“It’s okay, pet. You can come now.”

Your body shuddered in her arms, the relief washing through you. Letting go, you let the pleasure crash into you, the way it had been trying to for so long. You sobbed, pressing your face into her neck. The hand on your breast slipped out from under your shirt, stroking through your hair as she kept your face buried against her skin.

“You did so well for me, kitten,” she murmured against your temple, “you were wonderful.”

She eased you through it. Fingers slowing within you, her lips pressed soft kisses to your hairline. Once you’d stopped twitching in her arms, she slowly withdrew her hand from your shorts. Your arousal glistened on her fingers in the summer sunlight.

You grasped her wrist, pulling her fingers to your lips. You licked along them before sliding them into your mouth, your tongue licking her clean. Hollowing your cheeks, you sucked on them the way you knew she liked.

You dragged your eyes over to Rio, feeling a sense of smugness. You were the one she’d been touching, and you were the one who had put on the show for her. Her own eyes were blown wide as they took you in.

“You can’t find anyone better than my pet because there is no one better. And she’s all mine,” Agatha said, sliding her fingers from your mouth, the arm around your waist tightening, “you can leave now.”

Rio’s eyes snapped to her, the look of anger flashing over her face. You cuddled back against Agatha, pulling your legs up to settle more comfortably against her body. She handed you her glass of lemonade, making sure you drank the entire thing down before putting down the empty glass. Her fingers slid into your hair, cradling the back of your head.

Her lips pressed to yours, kissing you deeply. You were boneless, melted against her, satiated and happy. She tucked your head back against your shoulder.

“Get out of my house,” she commanded, voice hardened as she realised Rio was still there on her couch.

“You bring me here and put on a show then tell me to leave without giving me mine?” she demanded.

“You showed up uninvited. Now get out,” she said.

You sighed as you burrowed closer to her, eyes sliding closed. A lazy afternoon nap sounded like a wonderful idea.

You weren’t sure how long you sat like that with her but when the front door slammed you jerked up. The couch had been vacated and Agatha was glaring out the front window.

“Next time we don’t invite her in for a drink,” you mumbled, finding your place against her shoulder again.

“You didn’t have fun?” she asked.

“I had fun with you,” you replied, “she was surplus to that.”

“Was she? Because I think you liked performing for her. You liked her watching,” she said, the fingers still tangled in your hair pulling.

“I did,” you agreed, “I really did.”

“And yet you still don’t want her to come back?”

You looked up at her, still feeling soft and sleepy, wanting nothing more than to stay in her arms. She wasn’t looking at you, the weight of her gaze having shifted back to the window. You wished you knew what she was thinking.

“Agatha, she makes you unhappy. As long as she does, I don’t want her anywhere near you,” you said.

Blue eyes darted down to you, finding you gazing up at her. The fingers in your hair slid out, gently tracing the curve of your jaw.

“You’d give up ever doing that again just for me?” she asked.

“I have more than enough just from you. Who cares if that never happens again as long as I have you. You’re all I want,” you replied.

She tilted your head up, kissing you until you were breathless.

“Well, I think we made our point, kitten,” she said.

“Mmhm,” you hummed, settling against her again.

“I doubt she’ll be back. She knows there’s no place for her in my life anymore,” she said, fingers carding through your hair.

“I’m all you need,” you mumbled, lips brushing the skin of her neck.

You felt her shiver, fingers tugging on your hair sharply. You kissed the underside of her jaw, feeling her arm tighten around you.

“You’re everything I’ve ever wanted,” she replied, “you were made for me.”

When she lifted you, her arms strong around your body, carrying you upstairs to your bedroom, you couldn’t agree more. You had been made just for Professor Harkness. And you were never letting her go.

[tqlepatia]

NOT A LOT, JUST FOREVER

And your dearest fantasy, Is to grow a baby in me I could be a good mother

You remember the warmth of those early days like it was yesterday. The quiet hum of your little apartment in Zaun, the way Sevika's laughter used to fill every corner, rough but genuine. You and her weren't rich, but damn, happy as fuck. Sunday mornings were your favourite—her arms wrapped tight around you, calloused fingers tracing gentle patterns along my skin as sunlight crept through the cracks in the window.

“You know I love you, right, baby?” she’d whisper for you, voice thick with sleep.

“I know,” you would smile, pressing a kiss to her jaw. “I love you too.”

It was simple then. You two cooked together, danced clumsily in the living room to crackling music, and built a life out of love and promises. When you told her I that you was pregnant, her eyes softened in a way I’d never seen before.

“We’re gonna do this, yeah?” she said, voice low but steady as she placed her hand over your belly. “I’ll take care of both of you.”

And for a while, she did. She was there for every appointment, every late-night craving, even when you got moody and impossible to deal with.

For the first six months, Sevika was the perfect partner — attentive, present, and fiercely protective. She'd read parenting books at night, muttering under her breath about "stupid baby advice" but taking it seriously nonetheless. Every kick from the baby brought a smile to her scarred face, and you believed nothing could ruin what you had.

But then everything changed.

Sevika began staying out later, consumed by work. She came home smelling of smoke, too tired to hold you or even ask how you were feeling. The warmth that once radiated between you faded into a cold distance. Nights were lonelier, the bed colder, and the silence louder.

At seven months pregnant, you told yourself it was just a rough patch. She’d come back to you — she always did.

But tonight was different.

A sharp pain twisted through your belly, making you gasp. You clutched the edge of the kitchen counter, trying to steady yourself. Panic surged through your veins. "Sevika..." you whispered, but the empty apartment echoed back. She wasn’t home. Again.

The ache in your chest was worse than the physical pain. Desperation drove you to grab your coat, ignoring the winter chill biting at your skin as you stepped into the dark streets of Zaun.

You knew where to find her.

The bar loomed ahead, its neon sign flickering like a tired heartbeat. Your breath came in ragged gasps as you pushed open the door, the smell of smoke and stale alcohol assaulting your senses.

And there she was — Sevika, sitting at the bar, nursing a drink, surrounded by rough-looking men. Her broad shoulders slumped, eyes shadowed by exhaustion.

"Sevika," you choked out, your voice trembling.

She turned, her eyes widening in shock. "Love? What the hell are you doin' here?"

Before you could answer, chaos erupted.

The door behind you burst open as masked figures stormed in, guns drawn and shouting orders. The patrons scattered, tables overturned, and glass shattered against the floor.

Sevika was on her feet instantly, her instincts kicking in as she drew a blade from her belt. "Get down!" she shouted, but you were frozen in place, your body refusing to move.

A flash of silver caught your eye.

Pain exploded through your belly as the blade pierced your skin. Time slowed. You looked down, disbelief washing over you as blood blossomed across your coat.

"No!" Sevika's roar was primal, filled with terror and rage. She fought her way to you, her fists a blur of violence, but it was too late.

You collapsed into her arms, the world tilting around you.

"Stay with me, baby," she pleaded, her voice cracking. "Don't you dare leave me, okay?."

Tears streamed down her face as she pressed her hands to the wound, trying to stop the bleeding. "You're gonna be okay. The baby's gonna be okay. Just... just hold on.. e-everything gonna be okay."

But you knew the truth.

She knew the truth.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Sevika shook her head with determination, her expression filled with concern. "No, please don’t say that. I promise you, everything is going to be just fine, and the little one will be safe too."

The encroaching darkness began to creep in at the edges of your vision, a slow descent into a tranquil void. The sharp pangs of pain that had gripped you moments earlier faded into a serene numbness, a gentle wave that washed over your body. This sensation wrapped around you like a velvety shroud, cocooning you in its soft embrace. As the world around you dimmed, you felt a profound sense of calm beginning to take root, shielding you from the chaos that had once consumed your thoughts.

“I love you,” you managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper, each word quaking as it escaped your lips. Your heart raced, feeling the weight of the moment pressing around you like a warm embrace. You could feel the cool air brushing against your skin, contrasting the warmth flooding through you. Your lips trembled slightly, betraying the whirlwind of emotions swirling within—hope, fear, and an undeniable yearning. Each syllable hung in the air, charged with vulnerability, as you searched their eyes for a response, longing to see the reflection of your own feelings mirrored back.

The rain came down in relentless sheets, cold and unforgiving. Zaun's streets shimmered under the dull glow of flickering neon lights, but Sevika barely noticed. Her coat was soaked through, hair plastered to her face, but she kept walking, steps heavy with sorrow.

The cemetery loomed ahead, its iron gate creaking as she pushed it open. Gravel crunched beneath her boots, and the scent of damp earth filled the air. In her hand, a bouquet of wildflowers—your favorite, bright even in the gloom.

Her breath hitched when she reached the twin headstones, side by side like a cruel monument to everything she'd lost. Yours was simple but elegant, etched with your name and the soft promise of "Forever Loved." Beside it was a smaller stone, marked only by a single word: Hope. The name you had chosen for your baby before everything was torn away.

Sevika knelt, the cold seeping into her bones. The flowers trembled in her calloused hands before she gently laid them at the base of the graves.

"I brought these for you," she murmured, voice rough and thick with grief. "I know they’re not much, but... I remember you said they made you happy."

Her fingers brushed against the damp stone, tracing your name as if trying to hold onto some part of you that was still here. The rain mixed with the tears she didn’t bother to hide.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, the words cracking under the weight of guilt. “For not being there... for failing you both. I should've protected you. I should've—” Her voice broke, a sob tearing through her chest.

The storm raged on, but Sevika stayed, anchored by the memories that haunted her every step. She saw flashes of your smile, the way your eyes lit up when you teased her, the gentle warmth of your hand on her cheek. And then the image of that night—the blood, your fading breath, the life that slipped away before she could save it.

"I miss you, princess," she choked out, her shoulders shaking. "I miss you both."

The rain washed over her, but it couldn't cleanse the ache buried deep in her chest. Still, as she knelt there, drenched and broken, Sevika made a silent vow: to carry your love, your memory, through every storm.

She pressed a trembling kiss to her fingertips and touched the stone once more. “I love you. Always.”

The wildflowers swayed gently in the wind, defiant against the rain, a fragile reminder that love, even in grief, never truly dies.

Sevika's steps were heavy as she made her way home, the storm still lingering in the dark skies above Zaun. Her coat clung to her drenched frame, boots scuffing against the slick pavement. The rain had soaked through to her bones, but she welcomed the cold—it dulled the ache that never left her chest.

The apartment was quiet when she pushed the door open, silence wrapping around her like a familiar specter. The faint scent of you still lingered in the walls, a cruel reminder of the life you had built together. Sevika stood in the dim entryway, her breath unsteady as water pooled at her feet.

Her hand slipped into her coat pocket, fingers brushing against something soft and worn. Slowly, she pulled it out—a creased photograph, edges frayed from being handled too many times. The image was blurred slightly from age, but your radiant smile was unmistakable.

In the picture, you stood with a hand resting tenderly on your swollen belly, the other holding up the ultrasound pictures with pride. Your eyes sparkled with joy, the same joy Sevika had worked so hard to give you. She remembered that day vividly—how she had swallowed her pride and taken on grueling, endless shifts to afford the best hospital in Piltover. She wanted nothing but the best for you and the baby, even if it meant sacrificing sleep and her own well-being.

Her thumb brushed over your face, lingering on the smile that had always felt like home. "I tried, bunny," she whispered hoarsely, voice trembling. "I tried so damn hard for you both."

Her knees weakened, and she sank onto the couch, the photo clutched tightly in her hand. The weight of her guilt pressed down on her chest, but there was something else too—love, fierce and unyielding, a thread that connected her to you even now.

Sevika leaned back, the photograph resting against her heart. The rain continued to beat against the windows, but inside, a fragile warmth flickered amidst the grief. She would carry that picture and the memory of your joy with her always, a testament to the love you had shared and the family you had dreamed of.

And though the world had taken you from her, it could never take that love away.

[neeeooon]

heyyy can you do blue lock guys with reader who adjusts with any situation without complaints or making demands because reader thinks they don't deserve their love? For example, if the guys cancel dates, forget an important date or can't make enough time for them. I hope you understand what I'm trying to say lolol 😭

okay i think i got it but i struggled a bit so if not pls lmk 😭🙏 thank you for the request!

when you go with the flow ;

bf bllk x gn!reader

itoshi sae

-> “where are you going?” “out. i’ll be back later. do you need something?” “… no, i’m good. have fun!”

-> you shouldn’t be surprised that sae forgot your anniversary, but it still hurt

-> sae appears at your door an hour later with flowers and a wary smile. “… i’m sorry i forgot our anniversary. i know it’s late notice, but can i still take you to dinner?”

yukimiya kenyu

-> “i can cancel, y/n, i don’t mind—“ “no, don’t cancel! we can go out some other time.”

-> you were not about to let your boyfriend miss a doctor’s appointment, even if it meant having to cancel your date

-> you didn’t mind waiting, but kenyu suddenly grabbed your hand and pulled you to your feet. “do you want to come with me?” you smile was genuine as you said, “yes.”

barou shouei

-> “i’m sorry, y/n. maybe next week?” “that’s okay! really, i don’t mind :)”

-> you do mind. you just refuse to complain about it to barou because you feel unworthy of his love

-> thankfully, he’s not an idiot. “no, it’s not okay. i promised you we’d go out today, so we’re going out today.” “i really don’t mind waiting—“ “they can wait.” “… okay <3”

kiyora jin

-> “is it okay if we hang out next week instead?” “… sure! everything okay?” “yeah, just dance stuff. i’ll text you.”

-> you were used to getting blown off like this, but you didn’t mind. just getting to call kiyora your boyfriend was enough for you

-> the next time he had practice, you didn’t ask where he was going. “y/n?” “yeah?” “… do you want to come with me?” you try to keep your excitement contained. “yeah!”

nagi seishiro

-> “i’m tired. can we call instead?”

-> you sighed but responded that it was fine. nagi sent back a simple “:)” and the date ended there

-> on your call, you were listening to nagi talk about his game when he suddenly got quiet. “… does it hurt your feelings when i’m tired?” “sometimes? but there are times where i feel like i don’t deserve you, so even this is enough for me :)” “… okay.”

[luckykiwiii101]

SLEEPING MONSTROSITY

| | IF THIS DOESN’T WAKE YOU UP, NOTHING WILL | |

XOXO | GOSSIP GIRL | XOXO | GOSSIP GIRL | XOXO | GOSSIP GRL

XOXO | GOSSIP GIRL | XOXO | GOSSIP GIRL | XOXO | GOSSIP GRL

ཐི you might just live this life forever…ouch ཋྀ

And for you extra failure desensitised east siders -> CLICK ME!

Hey Upper East Siders.

Lately i’ve been thinking about how big of failure you are. And how you keep coming up with more stupid questions to ask bloggers because you can’t accept that life is just easy. I’d call you sleeping beauty, but unlike you, she actually woke up.

I want you to ask yourself how it feels knowing that even though you have all the power, you still don’t have the will to save yourself. Yet you think it’s all going to be okay. You still think you’re going to eventually manifest your dream life, and that this nightmare will come to an end.

Pardon my harsh words but that’s pathetic. Why? Because you told yourself the same thing months ago, and look where you are. You haven’t gotten anywhere. You may understand the law better but you haven’t done anything with it. And knowledge is useless when it’s held by…well, you. A lazy, hopeless, pathetic dreamer.

What actually makes you think that you’re going to be living your dream life by the time it hits 2027. You’re just staying still, and you’re going to continue to. You’re not on an escalator, you’re on a treadmill. Getting absolutely nowhere.

And as i’ve said before, leave those Pinterest boards on Pinterest. I can’t imagine how painful it must be to doom fully stare at something you know you’ll never give yourself. And save your dreams for nap time because that’s the closest you’ll ever get to seeing them.

The amount of people that have left this app, without their dream lives…and you’re just going to end up being another one of them. Another day you take to procrastinate turns into a week, then into a month, 6 months, a year, two years, five years…twenty.

“I’ll persist later!!!” Yes. Exactly. You’ll persist “later.” Later as in, next week? next month? next year? Seconds turn into minutes, minutes turn into hours, hours turn into days, days turn into weeks, weeks turn into months, months turn in to years, and years turn into decades, and decades turn into small little segments of your tragic little life, spent doing what? Trying? Procrastinating? Sulking? Or living the life of your dreams? Call it Russian roulette, but YOU’RE the one holding the gun to your head. Nowhere to run.

“I’ll try to enter the void state again tonight.” Yes. Exactly. You’ll TRY again. And you’ll try again the night after that, and the night after that, and the night after that. and so on…and so on…

But you know what’s the most shocking of all? The fact that you actually believe that everything is going to be okay. “I know i’ll win in the end.” Are you sure? Because you don’t win by staying the same. And that’s all you’ve been doing since forever.

You’re going to wake up tomorrow and make the same decision you’ve been making all your life. You’re going to deliberately and willingly choose to be someone you don’t want to be. As usual. Because that’s what’s comfortable to you. What can I say. You’re only human. And that’s all you’ll ever be.

But for someone like Blair Waldorf, failure is the end of the world. Because she’s uncomfortable with something she isn’t used to experiencing. But it’s only if she gets used to it, that she gets comfortable, and starts to let it in. And take over her. Sound familiar? Because it’s exactly what you’ve been doing to yourself. You’re so desensitised to failure that you read wake up calls in your sleep. Shrug them off, and move on. As if the words on this screen aren’t literally your reality.

If this doesn’t make your heart sink, i’m not sure what will. For some, the pain of knowing this might be too intense to ignore, for most of you, you’ll feel nothing. Your desensitisation to failure will be the death of you. What have you done to yourself…

Ouch!

- gossip girl

XOXO | GOSSIP GIRL | XOXO | GOSSIP GIRL | XOXO | GOSSIP GRL

XOXO | GOSSIP GIRL | XOXO | GOSSIP GIRL | XOXO | GOSSIP GRL

[billiesbabygirleilish]

Billie x guitarist reader where Billie and reader are friends but there is obvious tension between them. Reader loves to post guitar thirst traps on her socials and Billie is seen by fans in the readers comment section flirting. There is some chatter and fans are starting to notice when Billie is out with her friend group, they see reader and Billie kind of all over each other. Can take place at one of billies shows, billies guitarist is sick so asks reader to fill in (even though reader is just there to help in the background) reader agrees and Billie gets reader to play next to her in one of her songs (you can pick which one baby) and they interact in a cute flirty way in the show.After the show they have a moment can be fluff or smut up to you. They get spotted kissing later at an after party (set at an LA show) Billie posts a pic on her ig story kissing reader (like the Odessa pic) then deletes it and just refuses to talk about it. But people definitely think something is going on because they see that Maggie, Finn and Claudia follow reader on ig.

I’ll leave it up to you to fill in the inbetween but it’s just a thought I’ve had in my head 🤭

an: OK FIRST OFF DAMN I LOVE THE IDEAS IN YOUR HEAD AND SECOND HERE YA GO

Strings of Fate

.*.*.*.*.*➳➳➳➳➳┄┄🎸┄┄➳➳➳➳➳.*.*.*.*.*

.*.*.*.*.*➳➳➳➳➳┄┄🎸┄┄➳➳➳➳➳.*.*.*.*.*

The stale beer smell of the Forum backstage clung to your clothes even before you stepped foot into the madness. You loved the organized chaos, the pre-show jitters, the energy crackling in the air like static electricity. Tonight felt different, though. Beyond the familiar hum, there was a nervous thrum in your gut.

You were usually just here to help out. Lugging equipment, fetching water, making sure Billie's notoriously picky team had everything they needed. But tonight, Billie’s guitarist, Justin, was down with a nasty flu. And Billie, in a moment of sheer desperation, had practically begged you to fill in.

“Please, you’re the only one I trust!” she'd pleaded, her eyes wide and genuinely worried. “You know all the songs, you’re a damn good guitarist, and… and you just get it.”

You hadn’t played a show this big in years. You’d been content with your Instagram guitar thirst traps, short snippets of riffs and soulful solos that garnered a surprising amount of attention. Especially from a certain Billie Eilish, who had a habit of leaving flirty little comments like, “Damn, those fingers do more than just play guitar, huh?” or “Can I borrow that guitar? For… reasons.”

Those comments were half the reason you agreed.

Now, standing backstage, tuning Justin's guitar, you could feel Billie’s eyes on you. You glanced up, catching her leaning against a road case, arms crossed, a small smirk playing on her lips.

“Nervous?” she asked, her voice low and husky.

You chuckled, trying to keep your voice steady. “A little. Haven’t played in front of this many people since… well, ever.”

“Relax,” she said, pushing herself off the case and walking towards you. “You’re gonna crush it. I know you will.” She stopped right in front of you, close enough that you could smell her signature vanilla perfume. “Besides,” she added, a playful glint in her eyes, “I’ll be there to hold your hand… metaphorically, of course.”

The night flew by in a blur of flashing lights, screaming fans, and the adrenaline-fueled roar of the music. Your fingers moved instinctively, years of practice kicking in as you navigated the familiar tunes. But the real highlight was “The 30th.”

Billie walked over to you mid-song, a mischievous grin on her face. "Alright, superstar, show 'em what you got.” She nodded towards the sea of faces, her eyes sparkling.

The spotlight hit you and you launched into the guitar solo, a bluesy lament that echoed the song’s bittersweet melody. You poured every ounce of feeling into it, lost in the moment, your fingers dancing across the fretboard. When you finished, the crowd erupted, and Billie grabbed your hand, holding it aloft as she sang the final verse, her voice tinged with a vulnerability that sent shivers down your spine.

After the show, backstage was a whirlwind of congratulations and high-fives. You found yourself pushed up against a wall, Billie’s body pressed close to yours.

“You were incredible,” she breathed, her voice a low rumble. “Seriously, that solo… wow.”

You couldn’t help but grin. “Thanks. You weren’t so bad yourself.”

The air crackled between you. You could feel her gaze burning into you, and you knew, without a doubt, that she felt it too.

“Can I… can I steal you away from all this for a second?” she murmured, her hand finding your waist.

You didn’t even have time to answer before she was leading you out of the chaos and into a quiet storage room. The only light came from a single bare bulb hanging from the ceiling.

She turned to face you, her expression serious for a moment. Then, she reached up and gently brushed a stray strand of hair from your face.

“I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” she whispered, and before you could say anything, she leaned in and kissed you.

It was soft at first, hesitant, a tentative exploration. But then she deepened the kiss, her lips molding against yours, her hand tightening on your waist. It was everything you’d imagined, and more. It was a kiss that tasted of longing and unspoken desires, a kiss that promised so much more.

Later that night, at the after-party, surrounded by flashing lights and pulsating music, the tension between you and Billie was palpable. You kept finding yourselves drawn to each other, whispers and stolen glances exchanged across the crowded room.

Then, it happened. Someone snapped a picture. You and Billie, locked in a passionate kiss against a graffiti-covered wall.

The next morning, your phone was blowing up. The picture was everywhere. Billie had posted it on her Instagram story – a grainy, blurry shot, but undeniably you two – and then, just as quickly, deleted it.

The internet exploded. Theories ran rampant. Were you dating? Was it just a one-time thing? (absolutely not)

Billie, true to form, remained silent. She didn’t address the picture, didn’t deny or confirm anything.

But then, you noticed something. Maggie, Billie’s mom, had started following you on Instagram. So had Finneas, her brother, and Claudia, his girlfriend.

It was a small thing, a seemingly insignificant detail, but it spoke volumes. It said, "We see you. We know what’s going on. And we approve.”

You still hadn't talked to Billie about it. Not really. You’d exchanged a few texts, mostly just emojis. But you knew. You both did. Something had shifted. The kiss had opened a door, and neither of you seemed inclined to close it.

You scrolled through your Instagram feed, stopping at a new post from Billie. It was a candid shot of her laughing, her eyes crinkled at the corners. The caption was simple: "Life is weird. (and sometimes, really, really good.)"

You knew she was talking about you. And you felt a slow smile spread across your face. Life was weird. But you had a feeling it was about to get a whole lot weirder. And you couldn't wait to see what happened next.

[biancadoes1]

Everyone comes to accept things at their own pace. The problem is that people who finally accept reality suddenly leave their tumblrs or twitters, and the echo chamber remains.

What I’m saying is you can take your time to realize that you were wrong about everything, but when you do, you should say it so that hopefully the delusions end quicker. This fandom is unfortunately heading towards a Larry type of situation.

Ok, I’m going to say this once.

I don’t give a single motherfuck about Larry.

I’ve been told repeatedly that this isn’t that type of situation at all by people who were in that fandom anyway.

Here’s the thing: people who are constantly telling me I’m delusional and fighting me on what I believe are the ones that are truly bothered here, because that tells me you’re not confident in what you’re trying to get me to realize.

It’s a big problem that a lot of people aren’t swayed by recent events. And what does that hurt? Who are we hurting in our little corner of the internet? We talk amongst ourselves and occasionally bitch out a troll when we feel up to it. People who leave don’t believe anymore and that’s fine. They remove themselves from the environment instead of combating people who don’t think like them anymore.

Again, for the millionth time, find a space where other people think like you because at this point, no one is changing their minds.

If I have to eat my words later I’ll be ready and waiting with a fork and knife but until then, ✌🏼

[torturedtypewritersdept]

as someone who gets the worst cramps during my period i would love to read about reader getting them in the middle of the night and she wakes dr rafe up because it just hurts too much that she begs him for a pain killer injection even though she hates getting them after getting so many over the last few months and after he gives her one he helps her fall asleep again by massaging her stomach:((

blue eyes + bruises - blurb - period troubles

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✯ pairing:

doctor!rafe cameron x fem!reader

✯ summary:

a tragic car accident looks like it'll be the end for you, but dr. cameron is here to make sure that doesn't happen.

✯ warnings:

mature themes, mentions of anxiety, nostalgia, and fear, car accident, death of a spouse (not rafe or y/n), major surgery, injuries, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, etc.

✯ a/n:

hey, love thank you so much for this request as someone who has stage 4 endometriosis this is something that i experience constantly. my thoughts are with you, love and you enjoy this!

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It’s the middle of the night and rafe is at the hospital; he was on call this weekend and unfortunately had to go in after a fifteen year old boy suffered a severe femur fracture in a football game. You knew the boy needed rafe's surgical skills almost as much you needed his cuddles. The apartment is currently eerily quiet, you'd shut off the tv hours ago, hoping the silence would lull you to sleep but it's just quiet, the kind of quiet that only adds to the ache in your abdomen. You've been hurting for hours, but it’s become unbearable now. You're no stranger to unbearable pain after the year you'd had last year, meeting rafe in the hospital was the only upside. Suddenly, a wave of cramps hit so hard that you can barely breathe through them, each one worse than the last. You begin to think that the word cramps isn't accurate enough to describe how it really feels; like your insides are being shredded with a knife. You’re tangled in blankets, tossing and turning, hoping beyond hope that rafe will miraculously come home soon, though you know it isn't likely.

In what feels like hours later but is probably only a few minutes, you hear the click of the door and sigh a breath of relief as you glance at the clock beside the bed. 2:47 AM. He must've finished up early, you thought. The pain is so intense now that you can’t help the quiet whimper that escapes your lips. Rafe hears it as he places his keys in the bowl beside the door, suddenly on edge as he remembers hearing those exact same noises when you were writhing in pain all those months ago in the hospital. He heads for the bedroom, urgently. He blinks a few times, the confusion slowly lifting as he sees your contorted face.

“baby, hey, you okay?” His voice is groggy but soft, reaching out to touch your forehead gently.

“I—I can’t,” you choke out, your voice strained as you curl in on yourself. “It’s too much. I need help, Rafe. Please.”

You see the worry flash across his face as he bends down onto his knee beside the bed. He knows the pain you’re talking about. He’s seen you go through it time and time again. But you know that look too—the one where he knows exactly what this means. You hate getting injections. You’ve had too many over the past few months, your body becoming all too familiar with the needle. But this time… this time, you can’t do it without help.

He leans over, his hand gently brushing your cheek. “I’ll be right back, okay? Just hold on baby.”

You nod, clutching the sheets, waiting as he disappears into the bathroom. It feels like an eternity, but when he returns, the needle is already filled. He kneels beside you again, his eyes full of both concern and understanding.

“I know you hate these,” he says quietly, his thumb brushing over your hand, “but this will help, i promise, angel.”

You close your eyes, bracing yourself as the needle stings, the familiar feeling of it sinking in. You wince, but it’s only for a second. Almost immediately, a wave of relief starts to wash over you, the pain starting to ebb away, though it’s still there in the background, dulled. Rafe gently helps you lay back down, adjusting the blankets around you.

“Just breathe, sweetheart. It’s gonna pass,” he murmurs as his hands move to your stomach. His fingers press in lightly, massaging circles across your abdomen with practiced care. You sigh, the tenderness of his touch easing some of the lingering discomfort. Your body relaxes into the warmth of his hands, the pain retreating with each gentle movement. Before long, you feel yourself drifting, the exhaustion of the night and the relief from the injection lulling you into a peaceful sleep. Rafe stays beside you the whole time, watching over you, ensuring you’re okay. His touch never wavers as he keeps massaging your stomach, guiding you into a deep, restful slumber. The world outside the covers fades away, leaving only the sound of his steady breathing and the quiet comfort of being his in its wake.

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taglist:

as always, if you'd like to be added to or removed from the taglist, please shoot me an ask or comment on this post so i can keep track <3

@maybankslover @inthelibrarybtw @luvrcndy @silkylovey @yagirlwrites @obxbabygirl @rafeecameronsbitch @klutzy-kay24 @roseczbalt @akobx @allsmilesreally7 @wtfdudesblog @urdreamgirl12 @hockeybabe87 @sereneera @annaconscience @pogueprincesa @bibissparkles @obxbigsis @jjmaybankmylovee @kulekehe

[kpop-reactions-povs]

Stray kids- Apologizing after an argument they had with their S/O

Bang Chan

You told him you felt neglected because of his busy schedule, but he lashed out in frustration. "You knew what you were getting into when you started dating me!" Later that night, Chan walks into the room quietly. He finds you sitting on the bed, eyes downcast, and his heart clenches at the sight. "Hey… I’ve been thinking about what I said, and I hate myself for hurting you like that." His voice wavers slightly as he takes your hands in his. "You’re the most important person in my life. I was stupid and tired, but that’s no excuse. I love you more than anything, and I’ll do whatever it takes to make this right." He pulls you into his arms, holding you tightly. "Please don’t doubt how much you mean to me. I’ll prove it every single day."

Lee Know

He had been acting distant, and when you brought it up, he snapped. "Maybe you should stop expecting so much from me!" After some time alone, Lee Know comes back to find you sitting by the window, wiping away silent tears. His chest tightens with guilt. "Y/N…" he says softly, kneeling beside you. "I was a complete jerk. You were just trying to talk to me, and I pushed you away." His eyes glisten as he cups your face gently. "I never want to hurt you like that again. You’re everything to me. Please forgive me." His lips brush softly against your forehead. "Let me take care of you tonight, okay? Just you and me."

Changbin

He kept brushing off your feelings, and when you insisted on talking, he got defensive. "Why can’t you just drop it already?" Changbin finds you curled up in bed, your back turned to him. He hesitates before crawling in beside you, wrapping his arms around you from behind. "I was so wrong, baby," he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. "You were just trying to be honest with me, and I made you feel like your feelings didn’t matter. But they do. You matter more than anything." He buries his face in your shoulder. "I’ll listen better. I’ll be better. I just… can’t lose you." His grip tightens around you. "I love you so much."

Hyunjin

You felt like he wasn’t prioritizing your relationship, and he lashed out in frustration. "Maybe we’re just better off taking a break!" Hours later, Hyunjin shows up at your door, his eyes red-rimmed from crying. "Please… let me explain," he pleads. "I didn’t mean any of it. I was scared and overwhelmed, but losing you would be the worst thing that could ever happen to me." His voice breaks, and tears roll down his cheeks as he takes your hands. "I love you more than words can ever say. Please give me another chance to prove it to you." He hugs you tightly, refusing to let go until he feels you melt into his embrace. "You’re my everything."

Han

You confronted him about being emotionally distant, and he lashed out in frustration. "Why do you always need so much from me?" Han sits across from you, his hands trembling slightly as he speaks. "I messed up. I was scared because you’re the one person who makes me feel vulnerable, and I didn’t know how to handle it." His eyes brim with unshed tears. "But pushing you away was the worst thing I could’ve done. You deserve all the love I have to give. Please… let me show you that you’ll never have to ask for it again." He cups your face gently, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead.

Felix

He kept canceling your plans together, and you told him it made you feel unimportant. "I’m trying my best, okay? You’re being too sensitive!" Felix knocks on your door softly, his face filled with guilt when you finally open it. "I hurt you, and I hate that I made you feel like you didn’t matter to me," he says, his voice cracking. "You’re everything to me. I should’ve listened instead of pushing you away." He steps closer, his hands resting on your shoulders. "I’ll do better. I promise. Just… stay with me, okay? I love you so much." His voice is barely a whisper as he pulls you into the warmest, most comforting hug.

Seungmin

He had been sarcastic during a serious conversation, and you felt dismissed. "Not everything has to be so dramatic, you know?" Seungmin finds you sitting on the edge of the bed, his heart breaking at the sight of your teary eyes. "I messed up big time," he admits, his voice barely audible. "I made you feel like your feelings weren’t valid, and I hate myself for that." He kneels in front of you, his hands trembling slightly as they reach for yours. "You’re the best thing in my life. Please let me fix this." His lips brush against your knuckles. "I’ll never take you for granted again."

I.N

He forgot an important anniversary, and you were hurt that he didn’t seem to care. "It’s not like it’s a big deal!" I.N stands nervously in front of you, holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers and a small handwritten note. "I was so wrong," he says, his voice trembling. "It is a big deal because it’s important to you—and anything important to you is important to me." His eyes glisten with unshed tears. "Please forgive me for being so thoughtless. I’ll never forget again. Let’s celebrate twice as hard to make up for it."

[transformers-spike]

Being that I’m sick, I just had a thought. In no shape or form do I think this is any bit accurate lol, but it was a fun thought for me.

So transformers are seen as robots (because they are), but I think it’s more important to look at the alien aspect of them. They are huge mechanical beings. Living machines. Being that they are living machines they don’t exactly get sick like most biological creatures such as humans.

Cybertronian’s suffer more from wounds and other injuries than they do sickness. A Cybertronian getting sick is nearly always a death sentence. This is completely different when it comes to humans. Unlike the giant robots, we get sick often, our bodies constantly healing itself. Cybertronian’s are more equipped to handle fatal wounds than we are. What a small scrap is to them can be deadly to humans.

That being said, transformers kind of are shocked when we can survive a mild fever. Our technology to heal the sick is much more advanced than theirs. Watching a small human get something like a mild flu is really fascinating to them. In a strange way they like seeing the whole healing process of humans getting sick and then better. Our bodies are so much frailer than theirs, yet we can fight of an infection that could potentially wipe out large numbers for them.

When you are sick, expect a lot of touching for no reason. Your body is weak from whatever sickness you have, yet they can’t stop poking and feeling. Your movements are slower and you’re less aware now, in a way it’s cute to them. Strangely enough they’d probably also like the smell of sickness on a human…strange but they’d most likely find it fascinating.

There are some bots I can also see getting turned on by this. More funny than anything especially if it’s someone like Shockwave who finds these biological findings too much for his scientific brain and now wants to jerk his spike over your sleeping body. He’s thinking about how much work your body is putting in to heal itself and just gets a boner or something.

Curious to if you think any other bot would feel about it. Anyway I’ll probably forget I typed any of this up later, sorry for any inaccuracies, im too sick to think correctly 😭😭

goddamn this is so good I am a sucker for a good bot helping their human through their sickness scenario I for one am most interested in them getting a kick for taking care of their human in such an extremely fragile state. While bots like Knock Out will vehemently refuse to hang around you more than he needs to (at least you can call/text him tho) - others are a lot more willing as long as they have the time. TFP Starscream keeps complaining about how long it takes for you to recover, but you still catch him holding you in his servos when he could just as easily leave you in bed. Keeps poking/holding you in this state. Dude, you are making the recovery so much worse Optimus and Soundwave are definitely normal about it - just focusing on keeping you company during your recovery. While others want to drive you around even if you're halfway dead (looking at you Wheeljack)

[tsukumomei]

OKOKOK in my mind in the “puppy love” fic, reader is moving to spain

and then three years later sae comes to spain cause he gets scouted by re al you know the story

and so they meet again ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹 (they have cute “dates” if you will, where she shows him around spain and what not 🤭)

now idk if you’re taking requests at the moment, or even want to write a part two for this, but i (and many others i feel like) would LOVE to see this!

no force though, if you do wish to write it take your time, and if you don’t it’s all fine too!

much love, xoxo 💋

a/n: This is actually insane because this is EXACTLY what I had in mind for a bonus part! I was originally going to end it when they saw each other again, but I took your request and wrote about their dates too. Enjoy! Mwah! I wouldn’t consider this a part 2, though—if I ever write one, it’ll still be from Rin’s POV. But I’m open to writing more bonus parts for this fic, so feel free to send me an ask! ^^

—RIGHT WHERE WE LEFT OFF

ft. Sae Itoshi

a bonus chapter for Puppy Love

synposis: Sae moves to Madrid after getting scouted by Real, but he has two problems. One—he hates it. The city feels unfamiliar, foreign, nothing like home. Two—he’s determined to forget about you. But the harder he tries, the more his own mind betrays him—because no matter what he does, everything leads him right back to you. wc: 3.1 k

The shuffling in Sae’s carry-on grows more frantic as he impatiently searches for that notebook from you.

It was the first thing he stuffed into his bag.

Flipping through the worn pages, his eyes finally land on the last one—covered in messy scribbles, but the only thing that stands out is a single line written in red ink at the bottom:

"Wait for me. ❤️ Y/N"

Sae presses his thumb against the words, as if touching them could somehow bring back the past. Could somehow make you feel real again.

He leans back into his seat, staring out at the endless stretch of sky beyond the plane window, but it’s not Madrid he’s thinking about. It’s you.

This morning, back at the house, he’d been kicking a soccer ball around the backyard, the steady thud of leather against concrete filling the quiet air. Rin was there too, watching him with a knowing look before finally speaking up.

"Nii-chan, it was just puppy love."

Maybe it was. Maybe Rin was right.

But if it was just puppy love, why is it still lingering?

Why did he still worry—that if you ever came back, that you’d be mad at him for not being there?

It’s been three years.

The chances of seeing you again were close to impossible.

—

Sae steps into his new apartment in Madrid, rolling his suitcase inside as his manager gestures around the space.

“This is your living room,” his manager begins, flipping on the lights. The apartment is modern, minimalistic—exactly what Sae expected. “Kitchen’s over there. Fridge is stocked for now, but you’ll need to do your own groceries after this week.”

Sae nods, setting his bag neatly by the couch.

“The bedroom’s down the hall,” the manager continues, walking ahead. “Bathroom’s connected. There’s a desk if you need to study or review game footage. Wi-Fi’s already set up.”

Sae peeks into the bedroom—plain, clean, nothing extravagant. Just a bed, a nightstand, and a small window overlooking the street below.

“You’re across the hall?” Sae asks as they return to the main area.

“Yeah,” his manager confirms, crossing. “If you need anything, just knock.”

Sae scoffs lightly. “I’ll be fine.”

His manager gives him a once-over, then exhales. “Good. Then I’ll leave you to settle in.”

With that, the manager steps out, leaving Sae alone.

The moment the door clicks shut, Sae gets to work. He unzips his luggage, methodically putting his clothes away, setting his toiletries in the bathroom, and neatly stacking his training gear by the closet. He takes mental notes of what he needs—more food, basic supplies, maybe an extra pillow.

Once everything is in place, he pulls out his phone and dials home.

His mother picks up almost immediately. “Sae?”

“I just landed and got to the apartment,” he informs her, his voice steady. “Everything’s fine.”

“That’s good,” she says warmly. “Have you eaten?”

“I will soon.”

“Don’t just eat whatever’s fastest. Make sure you’re getting proper meals.”

Sae hums in acknowledgment before adding, “Tell Dad I made it safely. And Rin, too.”

“Of course,” his mother says. There’s a brief pause, then a softer, knowing tone in her voice. “It feels real now, doesn’t it?”

Sae leans against the counter, staring at the empty space around him. His new home. His new life.

“Yeah,” he murmurs.

After a few more exchanges, he hangs up, setting his phone aside.

His eyes drift to his carry-on, to the one thing he hadn’t put away yet.

The notebook.

The worn cover, the slightly frayed edges—he traces them with his fingers before flipping it open once again. The pages are filled with your handwriting, messy yet familiar, scrawled with thoughts and doodles from years ago.

It’s ridiculous, really. He hasn’t seen you in three years. He has no idea where you are, if you’re still in the same country, if you even remember him the way he remembers you.

But memories flood in anyway. The afternoons spent at the park, your determined expression when you first crashed his soccer game, the way you always talked too much but somehow, he never minded. The way you scribbled on his arm once with the same red ink you used to write—

"Wait for me. ❤️ y/n"

Sae exhales sharply and shuts the notebook.

Maybe it really was just puppy love.

He stands, grabs his wallet, and heads for the door.

He needs to get out, get familiar with the city. He’s going to live here now, after all.

—

The city is foreign, unfamiliar—Sae hates it.

He was never one for traveling. The only reason he’s here is to play soccer at an international level, but outside of that, it feels suffocating in a way he never expected.

The streets are too loud yet too quiet at the same time. He doesn’t understand the conversations happening around him, the unfamiliar syllables blending into meaningless noise. The people pass by in a blur, all strangers, none of them acknowledging him beyond quick  glances.

It’s not like he’s stupid enough to get scammed—he’s careful, always aware of his surroundings. But that doesn’t change the fact that he doesn’t belong here. It doesn’t change how frustrating it is to have all this free time and nowhere to go, no one to turn to.

The city is alive, buzzing with movement, but it only makes the loneliness feel sharper.

—

Today marks his second week in Madrid.

Sae realizes just how useless he is when it comes to directions.

The sun is already beginning to set, casting a golden glow over Madrid, and he has no idea where he is.

The street signs might as well be in a foreign language—which, technically, they are. He squints at them, but the unfamiliar words blur together, useless in helping him find his way. And as for Spanish? Well, he knows about as much as a toddler forming his first sentence.

Great.

Of course, it’s at a time like this that he remembers you.

Because you were always the human GPS between the two of you, navigating streets like you had a built-in map inside your head. You always knew the right turns to take, the fastest shortcuts.

And right now? Right now, he is the one most in need of that skill.

Rin thinks Sae is perfect, so he probably doesn’t even know about this little flaw of his.

Sae scoffs to himself, shaking his head. It’s ridiculous that, even now, when he’s supposed to be moving on, he still finds himself thinking about you.

He exhales sharply, pushing the thoughts away.

Enough.

With renewed determination, Sae steps onto the crosswalk, telling himself—again—that it’s time to leave his childhood love in the past.

But by the time he reaches the middle, doubt creeps in—just enough for him to hesitate, just enough for him to misstep.

And just enough for him to accidentally bump into someone walking from the opposite direction.

"Perdón," the girl mutters, barely sparing him a glance—until she does.

She stops short, eyes widening in surprise.

"Oh."

Sae blinks.

"It’s you."

For a moment, the city fades into the background. The people rushing past, the hum of conversation, the faint honking of impatient drivers—it all disappears.

You look different now. Your hair is dyed, a little wavier than before. A stylish bag hangs off your shoulder, outfit effortlessly put together in a way that makes you stand out even in the middle of Madrid.

But to him, you’re still the same stubborn girl who once barged into his soccer game with Rin, the one who never asked for permission—just demanded a pass like you belonged there. The one who never looked at him like everyone else did.

Your eyes are the same. That’s what catches him the most. Time has changed a lot of things, but not that. They still hold the same warmth, the same quiet confidence.

Sae wonders if he looks different to you, too. If you notice the way his shoulders have grown broader, the way the exhaustion lingers under his eyes. If you can tell that beneath all the fame and titles, there’s still a part of him that never stopped waiting for you.

Neither of you speak. Just stood there, caught in something neither of you were prepared for.

Sae exhales, then—without thinking—extends his hand toward you

But before you can take it, a sharp whistle cuts through the air.

"¡Oye! Move it!"

The traffic officer’s whistle cuts through the air, snapping both of you out of your daze.

Startled, you both turn at the same time, realizing the light has already turned green—and you’re still standing in the middle of the crosswalk.

Reality has always had a way of interrupting you two, hasn’t it?

Sae clenches his jaw, frustration flickering across his face. Meanwhile, you weren’t handling it any better—because instead of just walking away like a normal person, you were flipping off the traffic officer and hurling a wooden spoon at him.

Where did you even get that? Sae has no idea. And honestly, he’s not sure he wants to.

But then he feels you grab his arm, yanking him across the street as you break into a run—both of you fleeing from the traffic officer, who Sae can only assume is cursing you out in rapid Spanish.

And just like that, his expression softens.

—

“Whew, that was close,” you say between heavy breaths, still catching your breath from all that running.

Sae glances at you, unimpressed. “Maybe if you didn’t throw a spoon at him, we wouldn’t have to run.”

You roll your eyes, waving him off. “Oh, please. That guy already hates me. This isn’t even the first time, you know.”

Sae raises a brow. “Not surprised.”

You nudge him with your elbow. “Hey! Rude.”

He exhales sharply, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “What did you do to piss him off before?”

You smirk, tilting your head playfully. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Sae gives you a look—unamused but intrigued nonetheless. “I would, actually.”

You grin, pretending to think. “Let’s just say… it involved a churro cart, an old lady, and a very, very unfortunate slip on my part.”

Sae stares at you for a moment before shaking his head. “You’re a menace.” 

You flash him a cheeky smile. “And yet, here you are, running away from traffic officers with me.”

He huffs but doesn’t argue. Because, somehow, you’re right—because he’s relieved that he can finally talk to someone other than his manager, and just as relieved to see that you haven’t changed at all.

Isn’t it ironic? The very day he decides to finally let go of your memory, fate throws you right back into his life.

But something nags at him. You haven’t asked about Madrid, about why he’s here. It’s like you’re not surprised at all, like it’s the most natural thing in the world to bump into him on the street.

Sae narrows his eyes slightly before speaking. “Hey, you’re not gonna ask?”

“Ask what?” you blink at him, confused. Then, as if remembering something, your face lights up. “Oh! Where are my manners?”

Before he can react, you throw yourself at him, wrapping him in a warm embrace.

Sae stiffens, caught completely off guard. But before he can say anything, you sigh dramatically against his shoulder. “I missed you so much! I can’t believe you followed me all the way to Spain. Oh, you really do love me.”

He clicks his tongue, exasperated. You’re being an idiot again—definitely pushing it.

But he doesn’t argue. He doesn’t deny it.

Instead, after a brief hesitation, he exhales and wraps a single arm around you, listening as you ramble on like no time has passed at all.

—

“Maybe I should put a tracker on you.” you tease, walking a step ahead of Sae as you lead him through the narrow streets of Madrid.  

He exhales sharply, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I would’ve figured it out eventually.”  

You throw him a look over your shoulder. “Yeah, sure. After getting lost for another three hours.”  

Sae doesn’t bother denying it. Instead, he follows as you turn into an alleyway, stopping in front of a small, unassuming café tucked between two buildings. 

“This place has the best tostada con tomate in the city,” you say, nodding toward the café. 

“The old man inside—Rafa—he always yells at me for ordering too much, but then he sneaks me an extra pastry for free.”  

As if on cue, the door swings open, and an elderly man steps out. His eyes land on you, and a slow grin spreads across his face. “¡Ah, mira quién es! La niña que me arruina el negocio.” (Ah, look who it is! The girl who’s ruining my business.)  

You laugh, stepping forward to greet him. “Don’t lie, Rafa. You love me.”  

Rafa scoffs but affectionately ruffles your hair before turning to Sae, eyes narrowing in scrutiny. “¿Y este quién es?” (And who’s this?)  

“My amigo,” you reply smoothly, though there’s a glint of mischief in your eyes. “He just moved here, so I’m showing him around.”  

Rafa studies Sae for a moment before nodding in approval. “Bien. Come inside. I’ll make sure he eats something decent.”  

Sae barely has time to protest before you’re dragging him through the door, the scent of warm spices and grilled meat immediately filling the air. The restaurant is small, a little tucked away from the busier streets, but it’s lively, filled with laughter and the soft hum of conversation.

When the food arrives, you dig in without hesitation, taking a bite and immediately letting out a dramatic sigh. “Oh my god,” you moan, clutching your chest like you’ve just ascended to heaven. “This is it. This is what happiness tastes like.”

Sae raises an eyebrow, unimpressed. “You sound ridiculous.”

“You sound jealous,” you retort, shoveling another bite into your mouth. “You haven’t even touched your food.”

Sae watches you for a moment. The way you eat so shamelessly, without a care for how you look, is something he vaguely remembers from when you were kids. Some things never change.

“I’m just letting you be the poison tester,” he mutters, finally picking up his fork.

You roll your eyes. “Please. If Rafa wanted to kill me, he would’ve done it years ago.”

Rafa, passing by, snorts. “She’s not wrong.”

Sae sighs, finally taking a bite. He won’t admit it, but it’s good. Really good.

Just as you’re finishing your plate, you glance at your phone and stand abruptly. “Be right back. Don’t go running off without me.”

Sae only scoffs in response, watching as you disappear towards the bathroom. The moment you’re gone, Rafa leans against the counter, wiping his hands on a towel before turning to Sae with a knowing smirk.

“She talked about you before, you know,” Rafa says casually.

Sae tenses slightly. “Did she?”

Rafa nods, chuckling. “Not by name. Just 'some guy I used to know who’s hopeless with anything besides soccer and even worse with emotions.'”

Sae huffs. “Sounds like something she'd say.”

Rafa shrugs. “Well, if you’re sticking around, you better get used to her dragging you everywhere. She’s got a habit of making lost people feel at home.”

Sae doesn’t respond, just looks at him, expression unreadable. Rafa only chuckles, shaking his head as he wipes down the counter.

A moment later, you return, eyes narrowing the second you spot them. “What’s this?” you ask suspiciously, sliding back into your seat. “What were you two talking about?”

Rafa smirks, tilting his head towards Sae. “Oh, nothing much. Just sharing stories.”

You gasp dramatically, pointing a finger at Sae. “You weren’t talking bad about me, were you?”

Sae finally speaks, deadpan. “Wouldn’t need to. You embarrass yourself enough.”

You scoff, reaching over to steal a piece of food from his plate. “Unbelievable. I leave for one second, and you two become best friends conspiring against me.”

Rafa laughs. “Don’t worry, querida. He’s not that easy to befriend.”

You nod sagely. “That’s true. I had to force him to like me.”

Sae rolls his eyes. That was true for most people, but definitely not for you.

He liked you from the get-go, like there was a gravitational pull towards you that he just couldn't escape from.

The day continues like that.  

You don’t take him to the usual tourist spots—the grand plazas or famous museums. Instead, you show him the Madrid you love.  

A tucked-away bookstore where the owner lets you sit and read for hours without buying anything. A tiny family-run tapas bar where the food is cheap but incredible, and the owners greet you like family. A rooftop spot where you swear the sunset looks better than anywhere else in the city.  

Everywhere you go, you introduce him like he belongs there.  

By the time the sky turns golden, Sae realizes something.  

This isn’t just a city to you. It’s a home.  

And for the first time since moving here, Madrid doesn’t feel so unfamiliar to him anymore.  

Maybe it’s because he’s finally seeing it through your eyes.

And maybe that so-called puppy love Rin kept telling him about is beginning to grow into something more.

a/n: "Puppy Love" is the one and only beloved Sae Itoshi fanfic franchise that will remain untouched by despair. I wholeheartedly believe that at some point during his four years in Spain, Sae had his dreams crushed and utterly heartbroken. But in this au? nah. no angst, no career-crushing disappointments, Just endless, tooth-rotting fluff and relationship bliss. The kind of soft, sweet moments Sae would never admit he enjoys. Because for once, he deserves to have something go perfectly right.

[moxfirefly]

This has been in the back of my mind for a while now. So I figured I’d try getting it out. While this doesn’t mean I’m “back” back, it doesn’t mean the few good folk on here shouldn’t (hopefully) enjoy this. For the foreseeable future I don’t feel like I’ll be taking request but you can maybe catch my own doings here and there.

But on with the show.

Rated Explicit (18+ only)

You feel you’ll go out of your mind at this rate.

All the staring.

The quiet little gestures.

His passive resistance.

You’ve remained glued to your spot for so long. Hoping that maybe somewhere between weeks in the months of the years you’ve known him, that he’d crack.

Leonardo doesn’t crack easily you’ve gathered.

He hardly moves. He doesn’t allow his eyes to betray him. His hands remain within eyesight, but it’s in the subtle clench of his knuckles. The way his hands ball up and quickly stretch exposing the veins.

While he smiles sweetly, almost submissively at the sound of your voice. You know he doesn’t show this to just anybody. He doesn’t allow himself the luxury but god dammit, you can see that he wants to drink you in.

You’re liquor to him, addicting and burning.

You’re oil to him, never quite mixed with the water he floats upon.

You’re pornography to him, a hidden treasure for when he’s too far gone.

So why does it ache so much to open your mouth? To make a move. To peel back that layer of protection he’s been so steadfast in building.

Because he could still reject.

He could push away your pulling aura.

So when you stand next to him during the group picture April insisted on taking. Feeling the cold of his skin so close to your arm. Your little hairs sticking out to somehow feel something of his. You don’t think, don’t linger on the possibility of rejection. Because when your pinky reaches for his palm, gently caressing his hand, begging for permission you somehow only whisper in your mind…

You hold back the gasp as his own finger wraps around yours.

It’s tentative and charged with electricity.

He’s a knife.

You chance a look at him from the corner of your eye and watch his throat bob. The tension in his broad shoulders, the shakiness of his irises. The fight to turn and stare right back at you, to cut you with his blue eyes and inquire if his fantasies have become fact for once.

When you feel an arm around your shoulders as everyone screams cheese, it takes your entire will to muster your designer smile. Leo seems to do the same, a defeated retreat from the prize.

You still feel him weeks later. The way the top of his hand rubbed against your own.

What you’d give to have that palm right now between your legs, trying to rush the blood to your brain and drowning you in the ecstasy he could give. You wonder if he’s done the same? Have you driven him insane all these months? Made him question every waking moment of his life?

Are his pretty beaten hands wrapped around himself right now?

Is he begin for you?

Is he dying for you?

Somehow this all comes to fruition one evening. Another night with your friends. Celebrating another big win.

You get sent to the supply closet to get something (because at this point you forgot what) and as you rummage through a box, that tiny bulb swinging around you like a halo. You feel that rush when the door opens.

A hand reaching and gripping the back of your neck and pulling.

Lips.

At the shell of your ear.

You gasp.

Leo feels mortification sink deep.

But before he allows the logical side to quick in, you grip the fabric of his pant leg.

“Don’t-“ you hold him there, silently begging him.

Leo let’s out a breath he’s been holding since his feet took him to you.

Several heartbeats pass, tension building and swirling around both your souls. Somewhere between bravery and madness you grab those hands press those palms around you.

And hold on for dear life.

Presses you against himself like a security blanket. Greedily inhales and exhales you. You’re shaking but god Leo is shaking worse.

He slides down you, comes to his knees and watches you turn around his embrace and watch him as he lets his vices win this time.

It’s the way those eyes look up at you, apologetically, fascinated, tormented.

His stomach drops when you cup his face, fear overwritten his features.

He looks weak, he knows it.

But to you? To you he’s the most beautiful creature. Gentle features, eyes as blue as the sky. Lips surprisingly warm, hesitant and yet needy. He’s kissing back just as your hands run across his cheeks and neck. Lips molding, desperation kicking in because now he’s had a taste. Now he knows what paradise tastes like.

His hands fall to your hips, gripping as he leans up more, still tall enough on his knees for your comfort. When he feels your moan, captures it inside his throat; he knows he’s done for.

Weakened by you.

Overwhelmed by you.

He can hear himself panting, the blood inside his veins pumping. How your sounds pick up the more he kisses you back.

You smile against the corner of his mouth as he grabs your waist and stands up with you in his arms. The contents inside the supply closet rattle to the ground but his hold is bruising and the prospect of his hand marked on your flesh make you euphoric.

Leo’s tongue and yours.

His nails digging into your rear, yours at his neck.

His teeth meet your bottom lip.

He’s hard and rubbing against the spot of your underwear.

You should stop, lead him into something more understandable.

But the greedy little creature inside of you chants ‘more!’ Just as he moans into your mouth for the twentieth time. A sound hitches in the back of your throat when you feel something warm gush and connect with your wetness.

You’re doing this to him.

You’re causing this.

He’s cumming for YOU.

That desperate point of no return is there, the two of your skating down it. His kissing is erratic and out of sync because his eyes are going wide.

His locked to your own blown out pupils.

He wants to apologize, to stop but your hips just rubbed up against him just as you start to cum. His name seeping out of your wet parten lips.

The haze will clear.

The mess will remain.

But what will you say?

What will he say?

[crowsofdarkness]

Riding Steve on his office chair.

18+ CW's below the cut(unprotected pinv, slight choking, spanking, use of a vibrator, squirting, and Steve being slightly mean.)

Steve had made it clear an hour ago that he wasn’t to be disturbed. He had an important meeting with Senator Ross for a debriefing on the next Avengers meeting. But I was feeling bratty, per usual. So here I was, sneaking into his office while Ross rambled on the phone about something I frankly didn’t care about. Steve hadn’t noticed I slipped inside completely naked and clutching my vibrator in my hand. 

Since it was a lazy day at home, he only wore a pair of grey sweats with his long hair unruly. He had neatly trimmed his beard this morning, hence why I’d been on edge all day. 

As I leaned down to his ear to whisper something, Steve practically pulled me down to his lap causing me to squeal. 

“Everything alright?” Ross’ question broke through his rambling. 

“Fine, sir,” Steve’s hard gaze was on me. “Please continue.” 

When Senator Ross did, Steve gripped my chin with slight force. “What are you doing?” 

I shrugged. “I’m horny, Stevie. You’ve been teasing me all day and I can’t wait any longer.”

Our voices were hushed so the man on the phone couldn’t hear us. 

“So you walk into my office, naked? What if it was a video chat?” Steve’s question was laced with agitation. 

And arousal but mostly agitation. 

I rolled my eyes along with my hips against him. “I knew it wasn’t. Which is why I came in here. Now are you going to fuck me or do I have to take care of myself?” 

I shook the vibrator in my hand which made Steve’s eyes darken and he lifted me slightly off of his lap so he could take his cock out of his sweats. I licked my lips at the sight of it, like I always had. His cock was thick, almost standing straight up with how he was sitting and I bit my lip when I watched precum ooze out of the slit. 

“Be quiet now, Steve. We don’t need to let the Senator know what we’re doing,” I whispered while teasing the head with my soft fingers. 

Steve let out a low groan, it rumbling in his chest.

“Shh,” I hushed while clamping a hand over his mouth. “Not so loud.” 

My stomach burned with arousal, igniting a part of me I never knew existed. My sex life had improved with Steve and I was able to find out new kinks. What we were about to do, sex with someone possibly hearing was new. I knew that Steve wouldn’t let Senator Ross hear anything but even the thought of him hearing something turned me on. 

“Is that Agent Y/N?” Ross’ voice sounded from the phone’s speaker on the desk. “I’d love for her to get debriefed on this mission.”

I winked as Steve’s eyes darted from the phone to me. “She was bringing me some coffee but left. I’ll give her the run down later.”

“Wow,” I mouthed, proud of how well he came up with that lie. 

I adjusted myself over his cock and locked eyes with him as I sunk deep onto him. My groan caught in my throat at the fullness of Steve’s cock in my pussy. It felt fresh and new every time. 

I cringed a little from the pain due to his size but as soon as I started moving up and down, the pain began to subside. Steve’s bottom lip was caught between his teeth as he tried his best to keep his attention on the phone call  while I rode him, slow at first. 

“Doll,” he let out quietly through gritted teeth. 

Ignoring him, I flipped on the vibrating black rose, the vibrations sounding loud in the quiet room and when I touched my clit with it I wasn’t able to keep that moan quiet. 

“Fuck,” I dragged out while leaning my head back. 

“What’s that?” Ross’ voice asked through Steve’s headset again. 

“It's so good,” my body writhed against Steve’s. 

He quickly said goodbye to Ross, saying something came up and they would talk later. My squeals bounced off the walls when one of Steve’s hands snaked around my throat, using his thumb to hold my chin straight. 

“Such a fucking brat,” he hissed when I rolled my hips over his cock. “What if he heard you? No one is allowed to hear those pretty little moans. Just me.” 

I whined when he pulled the rose away from my clit, immediately missing the friction. 

“I didn’t-,” I was unable to finish my words because Steve wrapped his other arm around my back to pull me closer to his chest, the head of his cock hitting that spot. 

He bit down on my breast, right above my nipple, and I cried out in pleasure. 

“I should punish you,” he rasped, voice gone with lust, and began pulling his cock out. 

“No, no. I’m sorry,” I shook my head and desperately tried to stop him. 

Steve raised a brow while tightening his grip around my throat and pushed his cock in deeper. “You’re sorry?”

I did my best to nod in his grasp. “Y-yes. Please, I need you to move again.” 

He hummed and buried his face in the crook of my neck, breathing me in. His pace didn’t increase, instead, it was even slower than before. It was as if he wasn’t even moving and I let out a groan of frustration. 

“Such a needy little whore for my cock. I bet you want me to bend you over my desk while I fuck you for anyone and everyone to come and watch. But they can’t because your fucking mine.”

My stomach flipped at his words, the image he painted beautifully on the canvas of my mind. He chuckled before moving over to the other nipple, mimicking the same actions as before with his tongue. 

Every one of my senses was burned alive. It was like this every time Steve and I were connected; our souls becoming one. 

“I bet I could walk around fully clothed and you would get yourself off,” he bit at the skin of my ear.

My nails scraped along his scalp as I pulled on his hair, yanking his head back so he could gaze up at me, our pace always in sync. 

“You could wear the Captain America mask and it would do it for me,” I moaned while rolling my hips against him. 

“I can make that happen,” he promised before crashing his lips to mine in a hungry kiss. 

It was one of pure adrenaline, his tongue fighting mine for dominance and his teeth sunk deep into my bottom lip. I shook in his embrace when I felt the vibrations of the black rose against my clit again. 

“Oh-Steve,” I cried in ecstasy when the familiar heat spread to my core. 

“Good girl,” he praised in between devouring my mouth. “Say my name again.” 

“Steve,” I sang when my orgasm was on the crest, begging me to let go. 

His cock was fucking into me with absolutley no remorse. The chair beneath us was creaking and I was sure we’d break it at any given moment. My breasts were pressed tightly against his chest and the sharp metal of his chain digging into my skin added more blissful pain. My body was pulled tight with tension, knowing any moment I would snap. 

“You know what to do, Doll,” Steve spoke huskily as his cock twitched inside of me when he smacked my ass. “Don’t make me fucking ask.” 

Locking eyes with him, I cried out my orgasm as my body writhed in his tight grasp, and Steve created some space between us to glance down where our bodies connected. It was wet, more than usual, and his eyes snapped away from his soaked lap. 

“Doll,” his voice was deep, dropping an octave. “Did you just squirt?” 

I couldn’t speak; my orgasm took every single ounce of energy out of me. Instead, I nodded while resting my forehead against his chest and smacked away the vibrator that was still held against my clit. The aftershocks were too much and I was afraid of crumbling in his embrace. 

“So,” Steve grunted with a thrust. 

“Fucking.” 

Thrust. 

“Hot.” He growled out his release, spilling into my cunt, and held me tighter against him. 

Gentle fingers grazed up and down my spine, as we both came down from our highs and I hummed in delight when Steve’s lips pressed a kiss to my forehead. 

“I don’t think I could ever sit in this chair again without thinking of you,” he mused with a light chuckle. 

Sitting up straighter, I tapped his cheek. His eyes were still blown wide with lust; it made my pussy clench over his slightly limp cock. 

“I wonder what else we can fuck on in The Avengers Compund to make you think of me,” I joked before climbing off of him. 

Steve’s fingers gripped tighter into the flesh of my hips to keep me in place, and he winked. “Let’s find out.”