#if i left anything out please let me know!

[tzyunaes]

HOLD ME , CONSOLE ME ⟡ CLINGY S/O

𝖲𝖴𝖢𝖢I𝖭𝖢𝖳 ‎ ✷ ‎  𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗌𝗄 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆 𝗍𝗈 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗀𝗈 𝗍𝗈 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗄.

[ 형선 ] 𓈒𓈒 bf!엔하이픈 ˖ 𝑓em!r g. fluff established relationship ──── EPHEMER𝒾S ( 74O ) cw. skinship && kissing.

jennifer says .. really mid and only hyung line cause i kinda ran out of ideas ://

LEE HEESEUNG──────the sun shone in its innate manner, basking a tranquil atmosphere. your head resting on your dear lover’s chest like it wasn't an annoying monday morning instead of a pleasant lazy sunday morning with your boyfriend.

he chuckled slightly when he saw you groaning by the realization and pulled you close, his arms curled around your waist, his eyes as observant as ever, “is my baby pouting?” he teased, not to mention how it only made your pout grow bigger.

“no. can you not go to work today please can you just stay here with me”, you murmured under your breath, drawing circles on his chest subconsciously and that's when he catches himself smiling faintly like a fool in love.

“you want me to stay here with you, doll? how about i give you two hundred and twenty two kisses and get out early from work tonight?” he whispered, already planting kisses all-over your face.

maybe to the point where he will achieve kissing your pouts away and exchanging into giggles.

PARK JONGSEONG──────you stare at your boyfriend from the couch as he got ready for office with a subtle pout on your face. he looked behind to face you as he fixed his tie for the last time, holding back the faint smile cause he didn't even need you to say it out aloud and already could tell what you were up to.

walking close to you, he cups your face with adoration in his eyes, “what, princess? don't want me to go to work?” he states rather than asking, noticing the frown on your face.

“no...why would i—” he cuts you off midway by leaning down and pressing a chaste kiss on your lips. “you know i would oblige if you just said the word, doll. anything it takes to wipe that pout off your pretty face.”

you looked away from him, a pink ray visible on your cheeks, “stop you're too cheesy.” you retort, sighing when you realized that he was being serious.

“you don't have to skip, baby. just bring me boba and—” “cuddles. and as many kisses as you want, baby.”

SIM JAEYUN──────your sigh fell warm on jake’s chest, he patted your hair in a tender and devoted manner when you nuzzled closer to him. he loved it when you were more affectionate than usual cause it gave him chances to express more of his clingy side. who could blame him, you were too adorable.

“why do you need to go to work...” you mumbled under your breath and he smiled, “i know right. that's exactly what im saying like fuck you mean i have to leave for work instead of cuddling my pretty wifey all day!” he murmured, his body pressed against yours. you giggled, his arms around your waist grew tighter.

“stop—” your words are interrupted by him planting dozens of kisses over your face. trailing down to your throat, he buried his face on the crook of your neck.

“okay i made my decision. i’m not going anywhere today,” he muttered between kisses and the seriousness in his voice would never let you second that.

PARK SUNGHOON──────sunghoon stared at you as you climbed on his lap facing him with amusement prepped on his face but his arms reached out to be wrapped around your waist. you stared at his eyes for a moment as if it was a staring competition before leaning in and prepping a peck on his cheeks.

a chuckle left his mouth when he finally understood what you were trying to do and pulled you closer for another kiss.

“trying to distract me from the fact that i have to go soon, baby? you know you don't have to try, right? i get distracted by you even when you're breathing, princess,” he says as he leaves a trail of kisses down your neck, your cheeks soon turned into a shade of pink by his teasing.

“that's not true, hoon. you're so wrong.” he just chuckled without another word and continued leaving kisses, although he was ready to leave for work.

with the last peck on your forehead, he got up, not forgetting to whisper, “don’t worry, angel, i'm gonna get out early for you.”

[the-modern-typewriter]

hey , I've been in love with your writing ever since I came across your blog , will you please write about a very intimidating villian who decides to kidnap the hero because he finds him cute when he is absolutely afraid of him

"The man who isn't afraid of anything," the villain mused. He trailed the edge of a blade along the hero's cheek, capturing a silent tear upon the tip. "Look at you now."

"Whatever it is that you want from me, whatever you want to know-"

"-Shh."

The hero's mouth snapped shut.

The villain smiled, crooked with an illusion of wholesome boyishness at the corner.

"You talk when I ask you a question, cutie," the villain said. "The only other sound I want to hear from you otherwise is whimpers. That was your one warning. Nod if you understand?"

Of course, the hero couldn't comfortably nod with a sharp knife against their face; not without digging the blade into suddenly soft skin.

The villain raised an eyebrow.

The hero nodded, very slightly, but even that tiny movement caused the blade tip to dig in. A small bead of blood formed on their perfect features, trickling down towards their jaw. The hero's breath hitched.

The villain's smile grew. "Good boy."

The hero shuddered, one of those whimpers all too ready and startled on his tongue. His eyes were all wide and pretty filled with an animal panic.

The villain reached out a hand, smoothing his palm along the hero's chest, feeling the rapid rise and fall, the desperate thumping of his heart like the sweetest melody.

The hero's eyes flinched shut. He trembled in his restraints.

The hero was not, it was true, a man frightened of many things. His abilities left him invulnerable to everything. Well, almost everything, as they had found. The villain's particular gift was to suck away the powers of anyone around him by virtue of his mere presence. The expression on the hero's face when he realised he'd gone from unstoppable god to just a man, to just like everyone else...

Well. It was adorable. The villain had always liked to collect adorable things.

"Please," the hero whispered, like he just couldn't help himself. The once powerful often couldn't.

"Was that a question, my dove?"

"Just let me go. I didn't - I'm sorry I came after you - I didn't - I thought -"

"You thought you could win?" The villain's voice was oh so sweet.

The hero flinched again. He met the villain's gaze and gave another frantic nod as the villain's blade moved on, caressing down their chest to meet the villain's free hand.

"That was stupid, wasn't it? What a silly goose you are."

A delicious, impotent fury flashed through the hero's eyes.

The villain dug the blade in. It was barely even a scratch, but a scratch could be a terrible thing to a man who had never had the privilege of being hurt before, knowing only that it could get much worse.

The fury was entirely drowned out by terror again.

The villain made a show of sighing. "You'll tell me everything?"

"I - what? Yes."

"You'd hand your friends over on a platter? Everyone counting on you?"

The hero's jaw clenched with anguish.

"Hm?" the villain pressed. "Would you hand them all over in exchange for me letting you go?"

"Yes." It was barely above a whisper.

"Go on then."

He let the hero bluster and ramble, trying to tuck away details and secrets, trying to stall, trying to do anything he could to win like he still hadn't quite learned. The villain nodded diligently along, devouring it all.

The hero eventually stuttered to a halt.

The villain waited a beat. The he stabbed the knife gently into the hero's hand.

The hero screamed. Confusion and outrage and guilt joined the terror. There was no longer a single tear, but a flood of them.

Cute, cute, cute.

The villain leaned in, knife moving fast to tilt the hero's head.

"I didn't take you for information," he confessed. "I just took you."

The hero stared at him, almost uncomprehending, eyes glassy. "But - I - what do you want from me"?

The villain pressed a kiss to the hero's nose.

"Nothing."

The hero whimpered again. Just pathetic.

"There's literally nothing you can do to make you let you go, sweetheart," the villain said, in the same confiding tone of voice. "I'm not going to."

The hero shook his head. He seemed to be having difficulty breathing properly. He was reaching the overwhelmed stage of fear, wasn't he? Not the villain's favourite, but a delight nonetheless.

The villain patted the hero's cheek, tender comfort, and stroked his hair. He pulled the hero a little closer, cooing in his ear. He gave him a moment to relax, instincts all disorientated and craving something lovely. He waited until the hero had struggled his breathing back under control, trying oh so hard to be brave. Then.

"You're going to die here, my little love," the villain said. "Now. What should we do about you speaking out of turn?"

[joonsytip]

Left for Ruins || Seungcheol [Teaser]

Pairing: Seungcheol x Fem!Reader

Genre: Angst, Crime, Smut, Fluff, Office Worker Husband!Seungcheol, Investigative Journalist Wife!Reader

Synopsis: Being an investigative journalist, you would do anything to unravel the truth, even if it means getting married to the timid office worker Choi Seungcheol, who was in fact the best friend of your brother who went missing seven years ago.

Warnings: Mentions of all sorts of criminal activities, reader and Seungcheol are two people with contrasting personalities, exploitation, gaslighting, heavy themes involving syndicate etc.

Thanks to @diamonddaze01 for the amazing banner! ���

Comment or send an ask if you wanna be tagged.

[ SVT Masterlist ] [ SVT Flick - Fic Masterlist ]

“I want you to marry me.”

Seungcheol is currently cornered, shying away from the proximity, unable to meet eyes even.

“W-Why do you want me to marry you?”, he manages to utter, body leaning back in reflex as you close in further.

All he gets from you is a very known cunning smile.

As you watch him like he's a prey, he pleads with you to give him some space.

“You're in your thirties, don't have a partner, got a stable job and a clean image. Don't you think we'd look good together?”, your hands take off his glasses, making him look into your eyes, “You are handsome and I've known you for as long as I can remember.”

Seungcheol finds it hard to maintain eye contact. Always soft spoken, he hesitates to ask you questions.

He needs time, he needs a push. You know it all and you know him all too well.

As expected, his hands reach yours to get back his glasses. He gently takes it and puts it back on. His eyes meet yours at his own will, for the first time that night.

“I’m practically blind without my glasses.”, he says softly, “Can I ask you some questions? Will you please answer them? And I have a lot to ask.”

You find it amusing, the way he awaits your response. If you deny, you're sure no questions will be asked. You're confident that you'd be able to coax him into marrying you with no such difficulties anyways.

You're known to be ruthless. You don't bat an eye before deceiving people, lies naturally flow out of your mouth.

When you give a nod, he asks you to take a seat, mainly for himself so you could back off and he could finally breathe.

“You've known me for years, Y/N. And I'm sure you're not asking me to marry you because you have feelings for me. Tell me the truth and I'll consider it.”

Your eyes glint dangerously but it's gone suddenly.

Your face falls, melancholia starts pouring into the atmosphere.

“I’ll be honest.”, you say, sounding sincere, “You were closest to my brother. It's been seven years since I saw him. I heard time heals but for me it's making things worse. I still can't believe that a good person like Daon would disappear overnight.”

Seungcheol takes the seat beside you, his heart aching in the memories of his best friend.

Your gaze drops at your lap, letting the sudden wave of tears stream down your face. It's a wound, unattended, always fresh.

With a croak in your voice you continue, “My brother trusted you the most and for me, I know that you've always tried to be a shelter, looking over as a guardian figure.”

Seungcheol’s demeanor is similar to yours, as he says, “When Daon disappeared, I just couldn't forgive myself. It always occurred to me that I should have searched more, did I give up too early? What if he's still waiting for me? I'll always live with this guilt.”

You both sit in silence.

“We could never repay you, what you did for us back then is something not even family members do.”, you feel Seungcheol go stiff when you place your hand on top of his, “My mom is nagging me to get married and I realised I trust you a lot. That if I gotta do this, I'd rather do it with you. I feel safe around you, Cheol.”

His ears are turning red, mouth going dry. His entire body screams for help.

You study him carefully, lips twitching as he excuses himself out of his home office for a moment.

As soon as he's out, you're off your seat.

“You're insane, Y/N.”, you could sense the disbelief in the voice coming from the earpiece, “You should be an actress.”

“Shut up, Jeonghan.”, you say through gritted teeth, “I have never let my hair down for this long, it's starting to irritate me. My ears are itching.”, you fix your hair so it covers the device in your ear.

Your mouth launches a string of complaints while your hands place work effortlessly to plant bugs over several places.

“The guy seems like a decent person. Throwing a marriage proposal just to wiretap his office seems a bit too much.”, Jeonghan keeps on speaking through the earpiece, "What if he agrees to the marriage, how are you so sure he won't?

You pay no attention to his rambles, skimming through the papers and files, eyes often darting to the door.

“Make sure the devices are working fine. I placed only one camera though, no place to hide others.”, your brows furrow as you go through the files, “Nothing useful here. Maybe I could get something in the drawers.”

But the sounds of footsteps approaching makes you halt.

Seungcheol on entering back notices you in the same stance as when he leaves you.

He carefully walks towards you, almost guilty when he kneels in front of you, “I appreciate that you think so highly of me but we're exactly opposite in terms of personality and aspirations. We won't work out. I'm sorry, Y/N but I can't marry you.”

You hear Jeonghan sighing in relief.

“Woah, he really didn't take the bait.”, you hear him mumbling, “We're done here. It's time for you to leave.”

Jeonghan is about to speak again but he hears sobs.

Seungcheol eyes you in horror as he watches you sob hysterically. Your eyes are red, nose flaring.

“Why don't you understand, Cheol?”, you choke, struggling to speak but do nonetheless, “Do I really need to spell it out for you!!”

Jeonghan shrieks on the other side, this wasn't on the card.

“Calm down Y/N.”, Seungcheol hesitantly holds your hands.

A second later he's about to turn to grab water for you but freezes.

“I like you, Choi Seungcheol! I really like you, a lot.”

Seungcheol's shaky hands somehow manage to grab your face, his eyes searching for yours, “Do you mean it?”

You scoff internally.

“Do I look like I'm joking?”, you say wiping your tears.

He observes you for a moment then you're being pulled into his embrace. Your lips curl up instantly.

Good for you, your tears flow as swiftly as your lies.

→ Do not copy, re-post, translate, or share any of my works on other platforms! All stories are copyrighted, joonsytip. ©️

[azsazz]

Cold Shoulder (Part 3)

Hockey!Azriel x Ice Skater!Reader

Summary: Anon Req: please i know requests are closed but what happens after cold shoulder 🥺🥺🥺🥺

Warnings: Smut, oral (F receiving).

Word Count: 2202

Other Fics in the Hockey!Az AU: Penance, Shut Out, Out of Order, All's Well That Ends Well, Brr-eakdown Shots & Spins Sprinkles of Luck and Doubt Cold Shoulder (Part 1) (Part 2)

_________________________________________

“You know,” Azriel huffs, shouldering the bookshelf you have him moving into place. “When I said that I’d do anything to get you to forgive me, I was thinking something along the lines of taking you to dinner or doing some of your homework or eating you out until you accepted my apology.” Your cheeks flare hot as the image his head between your legs flashes through your mind. You carefully cross your ankles where you’re sitting on your bed. “Not rearranging your furniture.”

You’d feel bad about asking Azriel to reposition the furniture in your room, but you couldn’t think of anything else when it came to punishing him for how he’d treated you a few weeks ago in the locker room. If you’d asked for a sexual favor, he’d have been much too eager, and there’s no way you would have been able to hold yourself back from giving him something in return. So, moving furniture it was.

“Well, the feng shui is all off in here and I need better sleep,” you retort, crossing your arms over your chest. You let your eyes trail the tight t-shirt he has on, down to the light gray sweatpants that he knows make you wetter than that shower he abandoned you in. His dark hair is a disheveled mess, too, only adding to the raw sexual power emanating from him. Azriel isn’t playing about wanting you to forgive him, and he’s pulling out all the stops in hopes that you will. “Now, a little to the left, please.”

Truth is, you haven’t been sleeping well for a multitude of reasons, half of which involve the hockey player who shoots you a ‘seriously?’ look before following your direction. You bite your lip to hide your smile as you admire his backside. The few weeks you’ve spent ignoring Azriel have been long and hard, but not as long and hard as his cock, which, you can’t seem to stop thinking about in the late hours of the nights. Your vibrator in no way, shape, or length, compares to what Azriel is packing beneath those light gray sweatpants that sag low on his hips, which would reveal the waistband of his briefs, if he were wearing any.

He knows exactly where your eyes keep drifting to.

You find that you have better sleep when he’s around. Not just because he fucks you to exhaustion. It’s the nights that you aren’t having sex, too. Azriel’s presence alone is calming, and when he scratches your scalp or strokes his hand down your back, you find it much easier to forget the worries of perfecting your routine running rampant in your mind and relax in his strong hold.

“Right there!” You exclaim, grinning sheepishly when Azriel looks over his shoulder at you. “That’s perfect. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Is there anything else you want rearranged?”

You’re sure that he doesn’t mean to phrase it suggestively, but you can’t help that your mind goes to the possibility of Azriel rearranging your guts. In a good way. A really good way.

Fuck.

Your face roasts with a blush. Azriel raises that damn brow again and you swear that you see the corner of his lips twitch in amusement. Like he’s thinking the same exact thing you are. Suddenly, you yearn to see that handsome smile of his.

“Uh, no. I think that’s it,” you answer, tucking your hands carefully under your thighs to keep yourself from reaching out to him.

“You sure?” he teases, prowling closer. You’re frozen to the spot, heart picking up in your chest when he comes to a stop before you, knee to knee. The way he’s staring down at you, like he wants to press you right back into the mattress behind you, causes a full body shiver that’s impossible to hold in. His hazel eyes are dark with arousal, and to further the way you react to him, he plants his hands on either side of you, leaning down until you’re the same height.

“I’m pretty sure,” you breathe, and you’re so close that your lips almost brush. You’ve missed him. Your hands ache to touch, to trail down his broad chest, to hook into the waistband of his pants and pull. Your body yearns for his. All you want right now is for him to lean forward, place all his weight on you while he fucks you into the bed.

Azriel’s voice is husky, and it causes your nipples to tighten beneath your shirt. “You sure I can’t help with anything else? I can move the bed. It looks a little off center.” You know his words aren’t a coincidence this time. He’s making innuendos on purpose, and it just so happens that you like the sound of that.

Your thighs part and Azriel slowly eases between them. If your heart wasn’t racing in your chest before, it is when he lowers himself to his knees before you. No matter how many times you’ve seen him in this position—when he helped you with your skates, the first time he went down on you—it still sets your body on fire. You’re pretty sure your cunt wets partially because Azriel’s conditioned you, praising you with such pretty words each time he does this.

He’s so close you can feel his warmth, but he’s not touching you like you want like you need.

“Yeah, I guess it is a little off center, now that I think about it,” you whisper, loving the way his eyes darken with arousal. From the corner of your vision, you can see his cock twitch in his pants.

“Wouldn’t want the feng shui to be off,” he murmurs back, shuffling forward so you can feel how interested he is in making sure your bed is in perfect position. You inhale softly; a sound that makes him want to fuck into you with fervor. You make him lose his goddamn mind.

Azriel’s hand finds your wrists, gently pulling your hands from where they’re still tucked under your thighs. He wraps one around his shoulder, guiding your fingers to the nape of his neck where you love to pull. Especially when you’re out of your mind, drunk on his tongue or fingers or cock. His hips almost buck when your fingers curl into his black strands, tugging subconsciously.

With the other hand, he intertwines your fingers with his, holding tightly. Gods, he’s fucking missed you. He’s been nothing but a storm cloud since he walked out on you, and everyone has taken notice. Even coach, who told him to fix his shit and get his head in the game or he won’t be playing against the Flyer’s this weekend.

He wants to play, but he wants your forgiveness more.

“Yeah,” you agree distractedly, and pull his mouth to yours.

The kiss doesn’t start slow. It’s fast and hot, the both of you ravaging each other like you’re wild animals devouring a kill. It feels like it’s been much longer since Azriel’s mouth has been on yours.

Your body surges with adrenaline and excitement when his tongue traces the seam of your lips, which part for him like the red fucking sea. Fireworks explode when your tongues touch, a tentative, gentle caress, as if he’s asking you if it’s okay. Your responding tug on his hair has him moving quicker, more assured, his tongue scraping yours in a way that makes you whimper.

“Fuck,” he breathes between kisses. His hands trail down your thighs, pushing higher to dip into the waistband of your sleep shorts. He snaps the elastic and you gasp against his mouth, dragging your free hand down the rippling muscles of his heaving chest. “I’ve missed you.”

“Missed you too,” you pant. You don’t want to pull away from him, not when you just got him back, but Azriel’s pulling at your pants and you do want them off.

Reluctantly, you lean back on your elbows and lift your hips for him. He loves that fucking look in your eyes, your lowered lids, the way you lick across your swollen lips as if chasing the taste of him. You have this fucked-out look on your face and he hasn’t even done anything yet, but he will.

Azriel helps you from your shorts and panties. Your thighs are already, trembling in anticipation, even more so with the way he caresses your sensitive skin.

Those hazel eyes are locked on your pretty cunt. Yeah, he’s missed you in more ways than one. Your taste has been haunting him. You’re like a drug he can’t get enough of, but he’s about to get his fix.

“Az,” you whine when he dips his head and presses featherlight kisses to your thighs. You need him higher and centered now. It’s been too long.

“Okay, okay,” he shushes. He wraps his hands under your legs and pulls you to the edge of the bed, right to where his eager mouth awaits.

You cry out in pleasure at the first swipe of his tongue through your wetness. Your back aches off of the bed and his hands finds your hips, pressing you back into the mattress.

Azriel’s mouth is fucking magical. You knew he was skilled with his hands, but this tongue…for someone usually so quiet he sure knows how to work you to the brink. His tongue flicks in a rhythm so fast that you can’t help but sneak your hand into his hair and grind your hips against his face. He growls, chest puffing with pleasure when you pull.

But he’s teasing you. He sucks and licks at your clit, drawing you closer and closer to euphoria before he moves away, lower, to fuck his tongue into you. He’s not going to let you have it this easily, even if he should.

“Azriel! A little to the left, please,” you whine desperately, repeating your words from earlier. You don’t know how you find it in yourself to tease right now, because the feeling in the pit of your stomach is bubbling into something that’s going to rock your world, but you manage.

Azriel’s eyes are near black when he peers up at you. You yelp when he removes his attention from your clit only to give a harsh nip at the meat of your thigh.

“My baby wants to come?” He asks, teasing a knuckle down your slit. You shudder on the bed and your neck nearly gives out at his touch. His words on the other hand, Azriel knows you love his fucking words.

“Yeah,” you gasp, and this time, when he spreads you with his fingers and licks a long, slow stripe through your wetness, circling slowly around your sensitive clit that aches for release, your neck does give out, your head falling to the mattress.

“You want me to lick this pussy until the bedsheets are soaked in your come?” He sucks, hard, and your back arches off of the bed.

“Yes!” You shout, fingers clawing at his t-shirt covered shoulders. You should have had him take it off, your nails threaten to tear the fabric.

Azriel hums against your clit, and the feeling reverberates to your bones. Your mouth parts and your eyes roll into the back of your head at the feeling. You’re so close…so so close that you can feel the heat coiling in your body—

“That’s my girl,” Azriel says, ignoring the way you whine impatiently when he removes his mouth from you again. This is just cruel, how he teases you like this. How you secretly love it. “Come for me, baby. Come all over my face,” he says, before diving back into your cunt with even more vigor.

You’re lost to his tongue, to the finger he slips inside of you. He brushes that bundle of nerves and it sends you plummeting over the edge into orgasm.

You writhe against his face, riding out the feeling that washes over you, threatening to drown you with pleasure. Azriel watches from where he’s still flicking his tongue over your clit, cock so hard in his pants that he might just come from watching you.

Your body convulses with sensitivity when you begin to come down from your high. Your thighs threaten to shut around Azriel’s head, but you know for a fact that he likes it when you do that.

“Az,” you keen desperately. He slows, sucking soft kisses against your clit, then slowly moves away when you give a soft, spent moan. He kisses the crook of your leg, your thigh, up to your hipbones. You manage somehow to lift your head to look at him, and your pussy clenches when you see the glistening of your wetness around his lips. He looks as blissed out as you feel, but his eyes suggest that the night isn’t over yet.

You take a deep breath and he watches the heat return to your gaze.

“I think the beds still a little off,” you say, breathlessly.

Azriel grins and your heart soars. “It’s about to be way off by the time I’m done with you tonight, pretty girl. I hope you’re ready.”

Fuck. You are. You really are.

_________________________________________

Azriel Hockey!AU Tags:

@whyonearthisyourusernamethi-blog @going-through-shit @crazylokonugget @lilah-asteria @girl-who-writes-stuff @moosemahboi @sherayuki @lyinginameadow @acourtofatboydreams @blackthorngirl @shadowsingercassia @evergreenlark @hannzoaks @bloodicka @whyshouldihaveanam3 @elle4404 @cherry-cin @quinzzelx @i-am-infinite @feeriqueivre @blightyblinders @kennedy-brooke @nyxbranwenn @dee-writes-smut @konaanaria13 @sunny1616 @lilylilyyyyyy @esahintzkanen

[harunayuuka2060]

WHB Not A Descendant (Cont.)

Gabriel: This is ridiculous. Funny even.

Gabriel: To think that the new devil in this wretched place has managed to eliminate some of my angels.

MC: Is that a compliment? Hmm... I don't know if I should take that well. *could clearly feel his killing intent*

MC: But you... You're different from the rest of them.

Gabriel: I have no reason to listen to a mere insect like you, but since you're going to die anyway, I'll allow you to say your final words.

MC: *sarcastically bored tone* Wow... So generous. Anyway,

MC: What kind of an ugly face is that?

Gabriel: ...

The angels behind him: ...

Gabriel: I shouldn't have let you talk.

MC: Yeah. Mistake on your part and this too.

MC: *quickly draws out their whip and strikes it across Gabriel's face*

Gabriel: !!!

MC: Ciao. *then runs to escape*

Low-ranking angels: DON'T LET THAT DEVIL GET AWAY!

Gabriel: ...

Gabriel: *starts chuckling*

Low-ranking angels: Sir Gabriel...?

Gabriel: *his face twisted in furious anger, immediately appears before MC*

Gabriel: DIE!

MC: *dodges his attacks*

Gabriel: STAY STILL, YOU FILTHY DEVIL!

MC: Nuh-uh.

Gabriel: Devils like you should die—All devils should die!

MC: That's racist.

Gabriel: AAAHHHHH!!!!

Satan, Sitri, Leraye, and Ppyong: ...

MC: He just collapsed. I don't know. *talking about Gabriel*

Satan: ...

Satan: Where are his wings?

MC: I cut them.

Leraye: Huh?

Ppyong: Y-You cut the wings of a seraph, aye?!!

Satan: ...

Satan: Is he alive?

MC: He should be.

Satan: ...

Sitri: What are we going to do about this, Your Majesty Satan?

Satan: ...

Satan: Other than cutting his wings, you didn't do anything, right?

MC: *nods (innocently?)*

Satan: ...

Asmodeus: Kekeke... As expected of my daughter's friend. *smiles proudly*

Asmodeus: Thank you for bringing a seraph here.

MC: Yeah. Can I go back to my room now? *feels incredibly drowsy*

Mammon: You must be exhausted.

Leviathan: ...

Leviathan: Foras.

Foras: *appears* Yes, Your Majesty Leviathan.

Leviathan: Stay by their side.

Foras: *nods* *then faces MC*

Foras: *smiles*

MC: *their eyes already closed*

Sitri: Your Majesty Satan, I will ensure that MC gets adequate rest.

Foras: I've been ordered by His Majesty Leviathan to—

Sitri: Sir Foras, this is Gehenna. If you'll excuse us. *carefully holds MC by the arm and leads them out of the room*

Foras: *follows after him*

Mammon, Leviathan, Asmodeus, and Beelzebub: ...

Asmodeus: See what I told you? They're a cheater in battle.

Beelzebub: *chuckles* Was it because they used what you gave them?

Asmodeus: Indeed.

Leviathan: What was it?

Asmodeus: Are you interested? It's a type of aphrodisiac in the form of a small seed. It's potent and can easily overwhelm someone with lust.

Satan: So how did the kid use that seed?

Asmodeus: If my guess is right, they—

Leviathan: Made him ingest it.

Asmodeus: *smiles* That's right.

Satan: But how?

Mammon: Probably during their fight.

Foras: *Sitri has already left so it's just him and MC in the room*

Foras: ...

MC: *looks peaceful sleeping*

Foras: ...

Foras: *smiles*

MC: Foras, I have a question.

Foras: !!!

Foras: You're awake?

MC: Slight. Anyway, can you bring me Gabriel's wings?

Foras: Huh? Why?

MC: I think I can use them.

MC: Yeah. I'll make them my wings.

Foras: ...

Foras: I don't think that's possible.

MC: But we have wingsuits. Why would not this work?

Foras: ...

Foras: Where did you leave them?

MC: I forgot.

Foras: ...

Foras: *smiles* I'll look for them. Please wait here.

MC: Can you wash them too?

Foras: If that's what you want.

MC: Thanks, work-husband.

Foras: *chuckles*

[burnforyou]

FIGHT & MAKE UP - LUIGI MANGIONE x READER

!SUMMARY! a fight with your boyfriend, luigi, ends up causing you to be bent over the bathroom sink.

!WARNINGS! fighting, accused cheating (no actual cheating), a bit of crying, he's a little insecure, reader is sensitive, make-up sex (kinda public)

if you don't like this, don't read it.

“hey, lu...“ you approach him sitting on a kitchen stool with caution, the wound from your argument still fresh.

“i don’t want to talk to you.” he states curtly.

“please, we won’t settle this unless we talk.” you beg.

“well, i wanted to talk to you this morning,”

your stomach drops in realization, your heart aching.

“but you weren’t here. so i stalked your location and went to where you were, and of course, i saw you with luke.” he snarls, his voice echoing in your kitchen.

“we were just talking? I… i wanted his advice. i wanted to talk to someone else about it, get another opinion.” you cautiously place a hand on his shoulder. he stiffens under your touch.

“it’s always him, isn’t it?” he turns his head to lock eyes with you. his eyes are wide with expectation.

“no,” you pace in the kitchen and rub your head, a headache stirring. you stop and look at him. “this is a big misunderstanding.”

“no, i’m not misunderstanding anything.” he gets up from the stool and stalks up to you. you have to tilt your head up to look in his eyes, now dark. “i’m telling you as i see it. to me it looks like every time we have an issue you go running back to him. literally anyone else, anyone else, this wouldn’t be a problem.”

he loses himself in the argument and you see it in his face. he’s lost the color in his eyes, replaced with a darkness you've never seen before.

“i’m sorry luigi, i wanted his opinion because he’s a man and i figured he would try and understand your side too, and i’d get unbiased advice from him.” your ramble on and on, struggling to get him to understand you.

“in what world would you get unbiased advice from him?" the adrenaline courses through his veins, "he probably begged you to break up with me, called me a loser, an evil man, the whole thing!”

“no, that’s not what happened,” tears begin welling up in your eyes, but you don’t let them fall. taking his accusations felt like walking on broken glass.

he grasps onto your shoulders with a force that almost makes you fall back.

“you can’t see it? that he just wants to get into your pants? he just wants to take you from me?” he growls in your face. his eyes search your face for any inkling of an answer.

“do you really think i’d leave you for him?” your voice comes out as sharp as a knife.

he opens his lips to reply, but closes them before saying anything. he doesn’t have anything to say to you.

he drops his hands to his sides after they left red marks on your skin.

“really, luigi? really?”

you start backing away from him. disappointment fills your heart.

“and since you care so much, he didn’t tell me to break up with you. actually, he told me i should apologize to you. but now, i don’t think you deserve my forgiveness.”

every stair creates a creaking noise as you storm up to your bedroom. once you meet the bed, you're out like a light.

you blink your eyes open, feeling a hand caressing your face softly. you're met with a stricken luigi looking down at you, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"can we talk?" he proposes carefully.

you sit up and lean back on your hands.

“you talk and i’ll listen.”

he takes a deep breath and leans down beside the bed and brings a notebook up from the floor. he looks down at the notebook and up at you again.

“i wrote down what i wanted to say, um…” he stammers off.

a smile threatens to grace your lips. it’s hard to stay mad at him, with his big brown eyes and little apology script.

“i’m sorry y/n. i didn’t mean to accuse you of cheating on me. it’s just.. my parents didn’t have the most, solid, relationship, as you know, and my father made me believe every woman would leave me. i’m really trying to break the pattern, to prove him wrong, to let you prove him wrong, but it’s really hard for me. but i am really trying for us, y/n."

"okay." you sigh.

"I don't mean to make excuses for my actions. I know what I said to you was wrong, and I'm sorry. for all of it, for the fight last night too."

you're weak. you're weak and you know it. you can't stay mad at him for anything. you climb into his arms and let him cradle you like a baby, his warmth engulfing you. "I'm sorry" you mutter weakly into his chest.

his thumb caresses the back of your head and he leaves a soft kiss on your forehead.

"i know. l'm sorry too baby." his voice comes out soft, his tender touches holding you to him.

you gave luke a hesitant side hug, eyes locked on luigi. he gives you a lazy smile and winks.

"thanks for having me," luke politely shakes luigi's hand and you take note of their size difference. luigi looms over him, not just in height, but size too. luigi makes small talk with luke as he leads him to the rest of where the rest of his guests are sat.

when you finally get a moment where all the guests are distracted, you sneak off to the kitchen, where you know luigi is hiding away. you lean against the counter next to him.

“why did you invite luke to your birthday party?”

“i wanted to…" he turns to look at you with a coy smile and your heart flutters. "get on better terms with him.” he watches your shocked reaction with satisfaction.

“wow luigi. that’s really.. nice of you.”

his lips turn up into a slight smirk that you catch. a sneaky suspicion he’s lying arises.

"that's not the real reason, is it?"

he crosses his arms across his chest and his biceps bulge in his short sleeve shirt. you bite your lip.

"you want to know the truth?"

"um, yes?" you reply like it's the most obvious thing in the world. he grips onto the counter next to you and leans over you, forcing you to look up at him. he leans down right next to your ear, his breath making the hairs on your neck stand up.

"I wanted him to see that you belong to me," he nibbles on your earlobe, "firsthand."

"you're joking." you bite your lip. he retracts from your ear, his signature hung smile lighting up his face.

"nope!" he says, popping the 'p.'

"and I thought you were being mature." you shake your head and roll your eyes with faux annoyance, trying to pretend like his words don't make you inexplicably needy. he leans into your neck again and presses hard kisses on the soft skin where your ear meets your neck.

"you know you like it." he casually reads you like a book. his slight scruff scratches your neck just the way you like it. "you know you've wanted this all day, prancing around here in this short skirt."

"lu," you whimper, quiet so the party-goers won't hear.

it was risky, but the rush, the adrenaline, the fact that luke could walk in at any second, it made you weak in the knees and left you aching for more.

he comes up and leaves his forehead against yours, eyes dark with need, pupils completely dilated.

"bathroom?" your heart pounds in your chest.

you shake your head, going against your own wishes.

"they'll notice we're gone."

"not if we're quick enough." he smirks, grabbing your hand. "come on."

he leads you to the downstairs bathroom and closes the door quietly after you. he presses your hips against the cold counter top and roughly pulls down your panties from under your skirt.

he wastes no time getting down on his knees, holding your ass apart with his hands, and playing with your already wet pussy.

"you want this bad?" he slaps your ass and groans at your reaction, jolting forward with a small gasp and a red mark appearing. his eyes meet yours in the mirror and he pushes a finger in you, still watching your reaction carefully.

"i want it now," you whine and stick out your bottom lip.

"look at you, so desperate." he shakes his head, pulling his shorts down enough to pull his hard cock out. he lines the tip up with your pussy and pushes his hips right against your ass, filling you up in seconds. your mouth falls open but nothing comes out, your lips completely dry.

as he thrusts into you, his thighs meeting your ass make loud, obscene noises that slip through the door.

you try and look back at him over your shoulder, but he forces you to look into his eyes in the mirror, bent over and fucking you desperately. "i'm gonna make this quick." he whispers into your ear, "look at who's fucking you this good."

you open your eyes and meet his dark ones in the mirror. instantly, his hand finds your clit and rubs it, adding stimulation. a moan flies out of you uncontrollably and you bite your lip to silence yourself.

"don't," he groans, "be loud f'me." he moans as you pulse around him. he smiles at you, watching your head bob as he fucks you braindead.

"could luke ever fuck you this good?" he asked with a rasp.

you gasp and he watches you struggle in the mirror with pleasure. he brings his other arm around your throat, his bicep now pressed against your throat. you try and shake your head but he just squeezes you harder.

"say it.” he growls roughly.

his cock kisses your cervix with every harsh thrust. your eyes flutter shut and your lower stomach bulges, heat growing with every movement.

"n-no,” you stammer, face red and sweat dripping, “fuck!"

"say my name.” you hold onto his arm and try and pull the weight off your neck, but he prevails.

"Luigi, please!”

"there ya go, that's it." he moans and slows his pace, grinding into you.

"say who you belong to." he slaps your clit carefully and your legs begin to buckle beneath him, body convulsing with pleasure.

"you, luigi. I'm yours." you purr and arch your back into him more, watching his eyebrows come together in the mirror.

"I'm gonna cum,” you whine, digging your nails into his muscles.

"cum baby," he demands, "make 'em hear you cum with me.” your vision fades to black when luigi thrusts into you as deep as possible, your skin meeting his with a dirty slap one more time. you buck against him, throbbing around him while he fills you. he quickly slips out of you and pulls your panties back up before any of his cum could drip out, forcing you to spend the rest of the party with his cum dripping out of you.

MASTERLIST - PREV. WORK

!TAGS!

@legendaryclancy @strawbrriess @bellobambino @f4nfic-lover @chmpgneprblem @soggysouppp @hereandqueer6540 @poohkie90 @miarosalie11 @v1rtualsalvat10n @hypnotizedbyhood @webanglikethat @croucify @cumdnmp @ga33y3 @zeervzn @marzipanlvr @seesaw-it @raekensluver @ddlydevotion @hujirose @babydollfacedangel @strawbxrryaxolotyl @bricapellan16 @darleneslane @uraharasfavoriteexperiment

[chosove]

*tw!!! daddy kink!!! + a lotttt of size kink stuff!!! fem bodied reader*

I know he gets such a like…almost ‘selfish lover’ rep but in my humble daddy issue biased opinion, toji would 100% talk you through it like…

Everyone already finds him so intimidating, if not from his stature and general appearance, its his gruff voice and combative personality. He doesnt even mean to do it, he just always has that trademark scowl on his face that makes people afraid to say excuse me in grocery stores :(

Not you though, you still served him with your bright smile as he checked out of the store. You asked how he was and giggled at his flirty response of ‘why, ya wanna make my day better?’. I mean…other than his kids he never had people willingly make small talk with him, let alone laugh at his old man jokes.

Godddd he just gets so flustered when you look at him with your big doe eyes and say have a fantastic day :(

Thats why when he sees you on the dating app megumi downloaded for him (against his will), he feels his heart skip a beat. I just know he’s all nervous, thinking how dirty he is as a self proclaimed ‘old man’ finding such a pretty young thing attractive- i mean you could literally be his daughter. All these worried thoughts flitted through his head while he tried to decide, not realizing his thumb was just a littttttlllleeeee too close to the screen as he accidentally matched with you.

Oh.

Oh.

I mean it was an accident for him, but was it an accident for you? It couldnt be if you were texting him already, a message reading “hey there stranger :)” popping up on his phone.

And when you liked his simple response of “Hello.”, responding with “anything i can do to make your night better, toji?”, that couldnt just be a typo or misclick, right?

You made him feel like a teenager again, the butterflies he felt only becoming more intense when you asked him to come over n’ tell you in person :( he nearly jumped out of his skin trying to get ready, hands fumbling with that pinstripe button-up he’d been saving for something special (gumi’s grad or….i guess his first date in forever). It was only at times like this he wished he had someone to call to help him chill out.

Maybe after tonight that’d be you though? He hoped so at least, and even when you pulled him into your apartment, pushing him on the couch while he stuttered about getting to know each other first, he knew you were the girl for him.

It did take a while for him to actually get up to your speed- he didnt wanna break you or anything. You were just so, so desperate for him, tugging at his shirt while you grinded your clothed cunt against his beefy thighs, filthy words coming out of your mouth only making it harder for toji to take it slow with you.

“God you’re so big toji, feel like even jus’ your fingers can split me in half.”

“Couldn’t stop thinking about you, knew you’d treat me better than all the guys my age. Ya gonna fuck me right toji? Please?”

“C’mon toji…know you wanna breed me, bet it’ll only take one time for me to give you a baby. D’you want that daddy?”

It was no later you said that word that he was picking you up, throwing you onto the tiny mattress your studio apartment held. Yeah, he definitely wasnt getting out of this alive- but neither were you judging by the way his big hands began to unbuckle his belt, unzipping the pants you so graciously left a giant wet stain on, the outline of his cock in his boxers making your mouth water.

“See what ya do to me, pretty?” His deep voice spoke, one hand giving his throbbing dick a few much-needed strokes while he stared down at you like a wolf. “Nothin’ to say anymore, hm? C’mon, i liked hearing it all.”

He hadnt even pressed himself against you before you let out a whine, his hands resting themselves on your sides already being enough to make your hips jump. If it weren’t for the fact he was now intent on hearing more of those pretty sounds from you, he’d have let out a whine himself from how soft your skin felt against his worked hands. And when he slowly pulled your panties down your thighs, clenching his jaw at the sight of strands of wetness sticking to your pussy, he nearly came in his pants.

“Poor girl, bet this sweet pussy hasnt been treated right in forever hm?” The question nearly brought tears to your eyes, both from the truth of it and from the fact he began to thumb at your glistening cunt, the rough pad of his finger being the exact pressure you needed on your pulsing bundle of nerves. “T-toji i might cum alr-”you began, but you werent able to get your sentence out before his hand came down to slap against your cunt.

“What happened to my good girl from earlier? Y’know not to call me toji, little bird. Whats my name?” He whispered against the shell of your ear, fingers covered in your wetness now coming to play with your hard nipples.

Clinging to his shaggy hair like it was your lifeline, you nearly cried out as you came undone for him, the desperate moan of ‘thank you daddy’ falling from your lips. He smiled as you writhed below him, your body convulsing while he let you ride what would be the first of many orgasms that night.

[kikidoul]

── CRIMINAL LOVE.

໒꒰ྀི ^ ⸝⸝ ^ ꒱ྀིა 양정원 x fem! reader content established+secret relationship reader is a detective while jungwon is part of the mafia ᥫ᭡ warning explicit sexual content petnames used fingering pussy eating cum eating edging/orgasm denial . . .!? 1328 — mlist. req

note. uh, i'm not really proud of this but i'm too lazy to rewrite so i'm afraid you have to make do with this... </3 taglist. @tfwbluu

You groaned for the unknown time, stretching your arms above your head as you leaned back in your chair. You’ve spent the past three hours seated by your desk, boring holes at the sheets of papers scattered across your desk. It was a case that could risk or break your chances of getting a promotion—something you’ve been yearning for. Being a detective is not easy, especially when you have criminals who are constantly outsmarting you. 

Fuck it, I’m dealing with this tomorrow. 

Sighing, you start packing up, filing the papers into a clear folder and shut down your laptop. You were the only one left in the office, leaving you the task of shutting off the lights and air-conditioner before leaving. You headed to the basement where your car was waiting for you and you drove off, returning home. 

“...Why are you here?” You deadpanned, standing by the door frame as a familiar figure made himself at home, seated by the dining table with already cooked dishes. 

Jungwon flashed you his signature smile, his dimples showing on his round cheeks. “Why not? I got off work early and decided to surprise you. Why? Don’t you miss me?” He batted his eyelashes at you, laughing when you rolled your eyes. 

“I miss my peace and quiet. It was great having the whole house to myself. What happened anyway? Didn’t you tell me the mission will last for two weeks?” You asked as you removed your shoes, neatly placing them by the side. 

Jungwon rose from his seat, approached you to help in taking your things and placed them on the coffee table. “It finished earlier than we expected and Hyung decided to let us have a short break. But enough about me, how was your day, darling?” 

You shot him a glare. “Oh, you know, thanks to a certain someone, I had to stay behind, trying to figure out what his main goal is.” 

Humming, he steps closer, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your left shoulder, slightly swaying you side to side. “Sounds like you’re under lots of pressure, love. Perhaps you need to destress.” 

He coos, hands subtly snaking its way underneath your clothes, tracing the outline of your body. Goosebumps formed on your body when his warm hands touched your skin. You looked over your shoulder, arching an eyebrow. 

“And what do you have in mind?” You questioned. 

The smirk Jungwon gave you was anything but harmless. His eyes twinkled with mischief, a sly smirk stretching across his face. “I’ve an idea.” 

~

“Hah—Wonie—oh fuck,” you cried out, your back arching off the bed as you gripped onto both the pillow and his hair with your hands. 

Your legs were slung over his broad shoulders, spread open for him like you were the main dish served to him on a silver platter. Your back arched off the bed at a particularly harsh suck of your clit, digging your feet onto your boyfriend’s back to ground yourself. You weren’t sure how much time had passed. It could be minutes or hours but you couldn’t care. Not when Jungwon was eating you out like there was no tomorrow. You rocked your hips against his mouth, breathless moans and whimpers fell from your lips. 

You felt the familiar ache in your stomach and how your muscles tightened. “Fuck—Wonie, please, please,” you mewled, wanting to be free from this sweet torture your boyfriend was putting you through. 

Much to your utter horror, frustration and disbelief, Jungwon moved away. He chuckled at the desperation written all over your face and just to be a tease, he rolled your puffy clit in slow circles, grinning at how your legs twitched. 

“Nuh uh, I don’t think you deserve to cum, sweetheart,” he clicked his tongue disapprovingly.

His words made you sobbed out loud, tears of frustration prickled your eyes. “Why!?” 

Jungwon hums. “Because you didn’t solve the case. How about you tell me where you stopped and I’ll help you out. If you can answer me correctly, you can cum. How does that sound?” 

Your left eyebrow subtly twitched, unable to believe what he was saying. “Jungwon, I swear to god—!?”

The rest of your words died in your throat when he pushed two fingers in and you instinctively clenched down on the sudden intrusion. Your eyes rolled up at the feeling of him twisting his fingers in just the right angle, hitting the spot that made you see stars. As quick as it happened, Jungwon pulled his fingers out, eliciting a disappointed sound of protest from you. 

“First question: how far are you into your investigation?” He questioned, calm and collected while you, on the other hand, were a mess. 

It was already hard for you to process his question, especially when he thought it was a great idea to kiss your inner thighs, touching you everywhere but your poor neglected and throbbing clit. Your breath caught in your throat, heart beating in anticipation when you felt his hot breath grazing against your clit, only to let out a startled yelp when he pinched your thigh. 

“Hey, I’m asking you a question, you know. What? Don’t tell me you’re already fucked out?” He mocks you, moving his fingers down to brush them against your clit, slowly spreading your folds apart and blowing hot air at it, savoring the way you squeaked. 

“Imagine how your superior will react if they were to see their brightest, smartest and intelligent detective getting defiled by the very same criminal she’s tasked to go after,” he continues, emphasizing some of his words with him moving his long, thick and slender fingers in a scissors-like movement, making your mind reeled from the delirious feeling. 

“Ngh, I—I’ve figured out—hah—your patterns, oh god,” you breathed out, gripping onto the sheets for dear life as Jungwon ducked his head to lap away at your clit, collecting your slick to spread them all over your puffy folds. 

As far as you were aware, you have been edged for the past one or two hours and all it took was for a few simple licks with his skillful tongue for you to push you over the edge. Your body shook vigorously from your orgasm, limbs twitching and spasming about as Jungwon drinks it all, not letting a single drop go to waste. 

You knew you were in deep trouble when you caught how Jungwon’s eyes darkened a shade. You nervously gulped, watching as he moved upwards, hands resting on both sides of your head. You felt small under his intense, unwavering gaze and you squirmed about on the sheets. A gasp left your lips when he gripped your chin, forcing you to look at him. 

“Looks like you disobeyed my order. I hope you’ve prepared yourself,” he warned. 

~ 

The next day, you arrived at your office feeling more exhausted than usual. It was a miracle that no one noticed how you were limping as you made your way to the pantry area. 

“(Name), how’s the progress on the investigation going?” Your superior asked, startling the lights out of you as you were in the midst of preparing a cup of coffee for yourself. 

Turning around, you plastered what you hoped was a convincing smile. “Ah, I’m almost there and I just need a little more time before I can catch them, sir.” 

Your superior nodded, pleased with your response and left you alone. You sighed, hand tracing the hickey left on your neck—concealed by a layer of makeup. 

Bzzt, bzzt. 

Feeling your phone vibrating in your pocket, you pulled out the device to see it was a text message from Jungwon. Ensuring no one was nearby, you opened your conversation to see two simple messages: 

Hi love, just want to let you know that we’ll be committing a crime tonight at: XXX - XX - XXXX. ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ love you

Catch me if you can, detective ( ๑‾̀◡‾́)✨

[auggieblogs]

The brow incident | Spencer Reid

Spencer Reid x fem! reader

Author’s note: Hiii, loves!!! Hope you all are doing good. My first Spencer fic and definitely not my last because I cannot for the love of god, get that man out of mind. I AM OBSESSED so please expect criminal minds fics in the future. Anywaysss, happy reading💗

Warning: sexual innuendos

―୨୧⋆ ˚masterlist

“Spence,” you said sweetly, leaning against the back of the chair he had just sat in. “You know how much I love you, right?”

Spencer glanced up at you suspiciously, his eyes narrowing. “Yes… and I feel like you’re about to weaponize that love against me.”

You grinned. “Not against you. For you. Your eyebrows, to be specific.”

He groaned, throwing his head back dramatically. “We’ve talked about this, Y/N. They’re fine. They don’t need fixing.”

(For weeks, you’d been trying to convince him to let you fix his eyebrows. Not that they were bad, per se, but there was just a little untamed chaos there that you knew you could tame.)

“They’re not fine. You’ve got stray hairs everywhere, and it’s driving me insane. I just want to clean them up a little!”

“I’d like to remind you that I’m a grown man and perfectly capable of managing my own eyebrows,” he protested, even though you both knew he never did.

You sighed dramatically. “You’ve left me no choice.”

Before he could protest further, you climbed onto his lap, straddling him and effectively trapping him in the chair.

“Y/N! What are you doing?” he exclaimed, his hands instinctively moving to steady you at your waist.

“Taking matters into my own hands,” you said with a smirk, pulling a pair of tweezers out of your pocket.

Spencer groaned again, his cheeks flushing pink. “This is unfair. You’re using my inability to physically overpower you against me.”

“Correct,” you chirped. “Now, hold still.”

He muttered something about how this was a violation of his personal space, but he didn’t move. You leaned in, examining his brows with laser focus.

“Okay, this won’t hurt too much,” you promised, carefully plucking the first stray hair.

“OW!” he yelped, flinching.

“Oh, stop being a baby,” you teased, gripping his chin to steady him. “One down, a hundred to go.”

Spencer huffed, his hands instinctively resting on your waist to keep you balanced. “I don’t even know why this is necessary. No one’s looking at my eyebrows that closely.”

“I am,” you replied, plucking another hair.

“Lucky me,” he grumbled, but you caught the ghost of a smile on his lips.

The next few minutes were filled with his exaggerated whining and your mock scolding, the both of you laughing more than anything else. But then, as you leaned in to focus on a particularly stubborn hair, you shifted slightly on his lap.

That’s when you felt it.

Your movements stilled, and you glanced down, realizing exactly what had happened. A slow grin spread across your face as you looked up at Spencer, whose cheeks were already turning a deep shade of red.

“Oh,” you said, trying—and failing—not to laugh.

“Don’t,” he warned, his tone a mix of mortification and desperation.

You burst out laughing, unable to help yourself. The sight of his flushed face and his clear discomfort was just too funny. “Oh my God, Spencer! This is hilarious.”

“It’s not hilarious,” he muttered, his voice muffled as he hid his face in his hands. “It’s biology. It’s involuntary.”

“Involuntary, huh?” you teased, leaning forward just enough to make him groan in protest. “So you’re saying this has nothing to do with me?”

“Y/N,” he pleaded, his voice a low warning. “This is serious.”

“It’s seriously funny,” you said, still laughing as you climbed off his lap, much to his relief—and apparent dismay.

But before you could move far, his hand shot out, gripping your wrist. “You can’t just leave me like this,” he said, his voice soft but laced with need.

You raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. “Leave you like what, Spence?”

“You know what,” he said, his pout returning full force. “You started this. You should finish it.”

His words sent a pleasant shiver down your spine, but you couldn’t resist teasing him just a little longer. “Finish your eyebrows first?”

Spencer let out a groan, leaning back in the chair with a defeated look. “You’re impossible.”

You laughed, leaning down to press a kiss to his cheek. “And yet, you love me.”

He sighed, his lips twitching into a reluctant smile. “I do. Even when you’re torturing me.”

You grinned, stepping closer and letting your fingers trail along his jaw. “Tell you what, Dr. Reid. If you’re a good boy and let me finish your eyebrows, I’ll see what I can do about… your problem.”

His eyes darkened slightly at your tone, and he swallowed hard. “Deal.”

“Good,” you said with a wink, grabbing the tweezers again. “Now hold still.”

[secret-moonstruck]

STUCK ON ME | Y.JW | PART 2

— Pairing: Jungwon x fem!reader | Part 01 | (Masterlist)

— Synopsis: When Y/N was with her friend, Jungwon became jealous and possessive. He decided to show who Y/N belonged to. .

— Genre: smut, Horror, bloody

— Warnings: unprotected sex, fingering, oral sex, praising, cum inside, making out, clit play, begging, hickeys, cum eating, overstimulation, gore, death, blood, torture, kidnapping, more. .

Warning: The content may be dangerous. Read at your own discretion.

— Notes: I'm new to this writing thing, and English is not my first language. Sorry for not writing so well, I wish to improve and bring better and well-written stories.

A few weeks have passed since Y/N met Jungwon, at first it was a bit difficult, but now she was getting used to the situation.

She had gone out for drinks with some people from the publishing house to celebrate the sales of her book, among them was Hyun, he was the cute guy who worked there and he always showed interest in Y/N, whenever she went to the publishing house he tried to please her.

When they left the bar, they decided to walk a bit. He was a little drunk and started confessing to Y/N again.

- Why don't you go out with me? - He said, stopping suddenly and turning her towards him.

Before Y/N could say anything, he disappeared. She saw him a short distance away in the alley next door, pinned against the wall with a furious Jungwon choking him.

- What the hell is this? What the hell are you doing? - She ran towards them. - Let him go now, Jungwon.

She ordered, she knew he couldn't disobey an order from her, she had already witnessed how it caused some kind of horrible pain.

However, he didn't let him go; he suffocated him until his body fell to the ground unconscious.

Y/N thought he had killed him, and out of fear, she ended up fainting.

Upon waking up, she still felt a bit dazed, looked around, and saw that she was in some kind of abandoned warehouse. She saw Jungwon sitting on a table reading a book calmly, but when he lowered the book and smiled at her, his face and clothes were covered in blood.

She looked around desperately and saw Hyun unconscious, bloodied, and tied up in a corner of the room.

- Did you kill him? - She asked in despair.

Jungwon rolled his eyes before putting down the book and getting off the table.

- Not yet, my dear. Maybe, if you are very nice, I'll let him live.

He approached Hyun and kicked him to wake him up.

- Where is Y/N? Please, let us go. - Hyun said as soon as he woke up, further irritating Jungwon.

- Who or what do you think you are to try to steal something that is mine? - He lifted him up before throwing him back to the ground.

- Please stop. He is innocent, he didn't do anything. I am yours, okay, you know, you always remind me of that. He has nothing to do with us, let him go. - Y/N pleaded.

A horrible pain coursed through Jungwon's entire body for disobeying her, but it only enraged him even more; she was causing him pain to protect that worm.

Jungwon approached her, lowering himself to her level with a smile that frightened her.

- I know you are mine, but it seems he doesn't know yet, and you seem to have forgotten. - He squeezed her neck, making her stand up. - Maybe I should remind you who you belong to, and show this nothing that you only have one owner.

Still with his hands on her neck, he pulled her face for a kiss full of anger.

- Now, how about you being a good girl? - He pushed her away, and as if it were nothing, dragged the table to where she was.

- Don't touch her, or I'll kill you. - Hyun shouted.

Jungwon went up to him and gagged him, he wanted to kill him, but not before displaying her, not before showing who she belongs to.

Leaning against the table, he ordered her to come closer, she obeyed out of fear.

- Suck me, like the good slut you are, show him what he'll never have.

Trembling, Y/N did as he commanded, kneeling in front of him. She tried to open his pants, but she was trembling too much. He got irritated and took off his clothes by himself, his cock already hard, waiting to be sucked.

Y/N looked at Hyun, who was struggling to break free, before turning their attention back to Jungwon.

With tears in her eyes, she touched him, pumping it before running her tongue over the tip covered with pre-cum, eliciting a moan from him. She licked his length a few times before putting it in her mouth, starting to suck it, but he needed more, he pushed everything in, making her gag.

Jungwon held her by the hair while pushing deep into her throat. The sight of her crying, choking on his cock, excited him even more; he pulled out of her lips and came all over her face.

- Come here dear. - He said, helping her to stand up and bringing her closer to Hyun. He pushed her in front of him, holding her face firmly to confront Hyun.

- Isn't she beautiful covered in my cum? - He smiled frighteningly as he said that.

- Do you know how she becomes more beautiful? When she's moaning desperately for me to fuck her. - Upon saying this, he bit Y/N's neck.

Y/N shuddered at the initial pain of the bite, but soon it was exactly as he wanted, moans escaping her lips mixed with her heavy breathing. Her legs tightening as she began to feel aroused.

Hyun looked horrified as Jungwon drank Y/N's blood. Jungwon easily tore her dress, and did the same with her underwear, before running his fingers over Y/N's pussy.

- You really are a slut, how can you already be so wet? You really get turned on by having your blood sucked, don't you?

Desperate moans escaped Y/N's lips as Jungwon's fingers worked on her pussy. She no longer cared about anything else, she just wanted more.

- Yes, yes, please, Jungwon, I love this, more, please.

Despite being scared, Hyun was starting to get excited seeing Y/N in that state. It was wrong, everything there was wrong, but he couldn't help it.

- Look Y/N, he likes what he sees. - Jungwon continued his movements while rubbing her clitoris with his other hand. - Come on, darling, cum for me already, let's go.

She shuddered, Jungwon's voice both sweet and venomous pushing her to orgasm, she came on his fingers, just as he wanted.

He raised his hand, displaying it with a smile before licking his fingers, while moaning in pleasure.

Y/N knew it wasn't over yet, Jungwon picked her up, she was still trembling when he set her down on the table.

He saw her tired face, her eyes red from crying. He wiped her face, which was still covered in his cum.

- You don't know how beautiful you look like this, all messed up. - He said, caressing her face. His fingers running over her face and neck. - It just makes me want you even more.

He said before biting her again, while pushing his painful cock into her wet pussy.

Y/N gasped in surprise when she felt him enter her so suddenly. If it weren't for him holding her, she would have already collapsed on the table while he mercilessly pounded inside her, the sound echoing through the room.

- J... Jungwon, please! I want, I need. - Y/N was begging for their liberation.

Hearing Y/N's pleas, Jungwon couldn't hold back and came, painting the inside of Y/N, who not long after also reached their orgasm.

Jungwon pulled away from Y/N, watched for a few seconds as her pussy leaked before starting to lick it, holding her thighs firmly. While sucking every drop, his claws tore into Y/N's thighs, who screamed with a mix of pain and pleasure, still very sensitive from the previous orgasm. She buckled, trembling, when she came again, this time more intensely than the others, covering Jungwon's face, who savored every drop before releasing her with an arrogant smile, while Y/N collapsed on the table, her breath still uneven.

She had already forgotten about Hyun, but when she remembered and looked in his direction, her eyes widened in panic.

Jungwon, already dressed, was holding Hyun by the neck with his hand inside his chest.

- No! - Y/N shouted, a desperate scream, a scream that caused an unbearable pain in Jungwon, he had already endured too much pain disobeying her that night.

With a quick movement, Jungwon pulled his hand back, covered in blood, with Hyun's heart in it. Blood splattering across his face, while the most terrifying smile Y/N could imagine was on his face.

He threw Hyun's body to the ground and went to Y/N. The pain of disobedience was torturous, but the anger was greater.

- This is so you never forget that you belong solely to me. - He held her by the shoulders. - And remember that I will never allow you to get close to any man again. I am the only one for whom you should exist. You are mine, and you must never forget that.

The panic that was etched on Y/N's face was replaced by a dark smile, which left Jungwon confused.

- What? Why are you smiling? - He said, releasing her.

Y/N pulled Jungwon close, tilting their head while still smiling.

- You look so sexy like this. - She pushed him away while assessing how he was covered in blood, eyes shining, his expression full of rage. She loved it.

- Y/N said while getting dressed. - Just thinking about having to put up with him every time I entered that building. Aaaah, so annoying.

Jungwon was confused, why was she acting like this when just a moment ago she was crying for him to spare Hyun?

- You know, Jungwon, I was kind of missing the feeling from when we first met, how you seemed so cruel that night. I wanted to see that side of you again, so I decided to combine two useful things. I could have fun and also get rid of something annoying.

- You are a psychopath. - Jungwon didn't know if he found her scary or amazing.

- Oh, no, of course not. I'm just a defenseless woman trapped by a sadistic vampire. - She said with a false fear on her face before approaching him with a smile and kissing him.

— Note2: Sorry if it's not good, I'll try to improve it.

[mysteryshoptls]

SSR Malleus Draconia - New Year's Attire Vignette

"I should just pull this cord out once, correct?"

[Mister S's Mystery Shop]

[Malleus casts spells]

Malleus: Now then, I've used my magic to organize the shelves. What should I do next…?

Ignihyde Student A: Ooh. This laptop's pretty cheap. Though, I can't check how it'd operate, since it's got no power.

Ignihyde Student B: Apparently if you ask one of the guys working here, they'll power it up for you, so we should ask someone. Let's see if there's anyone free…

Malleus: Yes? Is there something I can do for you?

Ignihyde Student A: Eek... I just made eye contact with Malleus Draconia...! U-UH, NO, SIR! I WILL ASK SOMEONE ELSE!

Malleus: The others are currently busy with their own duties. I can assist you if there is something in the store you need.

Ignihyde Student B: Uhh… R-Right then, so… Could I get this computer booted up for a sec… Pretty please?

Malleus: This mechanical box, is it? …If I recall, the others would simply press this button here to turn it on.

[click]

Malleus: It isn't working. When this happens, I should pull this cord out once, correct? That is what Lilia once taught me.

Ignihyde Student A: Eh, you're going to completely unplug it!? But isn't it still in the process of starting up…?

[snap!! crackle, crackle!]

Ignihyde Student B: Eek! It sparked! That was a pretty strong yank…

Malleus: Alright. Now I simply have to do the same thing once more.

[click…THUD!!!]

[the power goes out]

Malleus: Hm? All the lights in the store seem to have turned off.

Sam: It's a power outage! I'll go check on the breakers, so I need all you little imps to stay right where you are for safety!

Heartslabyul Student A: It's so dark I can't see anything…! What's going on!?

Pomefiore Student A: I totally saw some sparks a second ago! Malleus Draconia must have done something! We need to run for our lives!!

Malleus: Wait. Sam said to stay right where you are.

Malleus: I warn each and every one of you… I will not allow anyone to take one step out of this store.

Students: GYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!!

[everyone runs way]

Floyd: Ahah. I can't believe you caused a power outage, Sea Slug-senpai. That cracks me up.

Malleus: I simply was attempting to turn on that mechanical box.

Sam: It seems you pulled out the plug while it was still one, didn't you, my little horned imp?

Sam: Because of that the plug shorted out, and when you plugged it back in, it tripped the breaker.

Sam: In a nutshell… That's what caused the store's lights to go out.

Jamil: At least the laptop is fine, and the power's restored once the breaker was flipped.

Jamil: But… Now we have another problem on our hands.

[cricket, cricket...]

Jack: Looks like it. The power's back on, but all the customers that left haven't come back in.

Floyd: Ain't it just 'cause Sea Slug-senpai scared 'em all off?

Malleus: I scared them? Perhaps I may have been the cause of the power outage, but all I did after that was caution those who would go against Sam's instructions.

Jamil: Well, that's… I mean, if they heard your voice echoing in the darkness like that… You know…

Sam: Now, now. I know none of this was done with any malicious intent.

Sam: But we're a business, after all. We can't lose customers and lose sales, now can we? There needs to be some kind of penalty.

Sam: So, I'll just deduct points from your total score towards the special bonus.

Jamil: A point deduction because we caused a decrease in customers, hm. Now that's a serious blow.

Malleus: …I neither intend to lose this competition, nor do I wish to be held in disdain.

Malleus: Whatever the outcome, I must take responsibility for my actions.

Malleus: I shall see our customers returned, and our sales up once more.

Sam: Oh? You're talking a big game there. I see that glint in your eyes… I can tell you mean it.

Sam: Nyeheehee! Alright then, I'll give you a change.

Sam: If you can make more sales today than you did yesterday before we close, then I'll waive everything that happened earlier! How's that?

Malleus: I understand. I shall see it done.

[Mister S's Mystery Shop]

Malleus: My apologies. I seem to have been a burden, Viper.

Jamil: Please, no need to say that. If anyone from Diasomnia learned that I had you apologizing to me, I'd never hear the end of it!

Jamil: However, will it even be possible to increase sales to more than we earned yesterday in the time we have remaining today…?

Malleus: We only need to draw back in the customers that left. Wait here.

[Beside Mister S's Mystery Shop]

[Heartslabyul students chatter]

Malleus: Ah, perfect, there are some humans milling about. You all there, have you purchased what you need from the New Year's Sale?

Malleus: Now is your chance to peruse our wares at your leisure. You would do well to come in.

Heartslabyul Student B: ACK… IT'S MALLEUS DRACONIA!

Heartslabyul Student C: I heard a rumor… His magic brought down a streak of lightning crashing down into the store and it knocked out all the lights!

Malleus: What?

Heartslabyul Student B: I-I even heard that he tried to forcefully drag customers back into the dark shop… I'm too scared!

Students: R-RUN AWAY―――!!

[they run away]

[Mister S's Mystery Shop]

Malleus: I don't recall that happening whatsoever.

Jamil: It seems the incident has been embellished beyond reason.

Jamil: Perhaps we need to do something to reverse this frightening impression you've seem to have left on people.

Jamil: For example, what if we were to fix how you interact with customers? That is… Maybe try to be a bit less stiff…

Jack: I just saw a bunch of guys in front of the shop that looked like they had all the blood drained from their face… Oh, I see, it was just Malleus-senpai.

Floyd: Oh, right, just Malleus-senpai.

Malleus: What do you mean, "oh"? What are you implying?

Jack: Nothing, just thought they looked real put out.

Malleus: What is that supposed to mean? Certainly, the power outage from before may have caused some sort of misunderstanding…

Malleus: However, I've never received a single complaint on how I interact with customers.

Floyd: I mean, isn't that just 'cause you just bein' there puts immense pressure on 'em?

Malleus: I've only ever treated them as I would anyone else…

Sam: Oh me, oh my, it looks like we only have our staff inside the store. How about we try to bring some customers in?

Malleus: You're right. Allow me.

Jamil: YOU CAN STAY RIGHT HERE, MALLEUS-SENPAI!

Jack: Sam-san, you're carrying something pretty big there. Is that some new product?

Sam: Oh, this? Another shop sent it to me out of the blue.

Malleus: Hm, it has a bright red face and some magnificent golden teeth. And these… aren't horns, but ears, yes? What a curious creature.

Jamil: What kind of beast is this creature supposed to resemble? It sort of resembles a lion.

Sam: You're right! This big guy is a ＳＨＩＳＨＩＭＡＩ, a legendary beast from the east that resembles a lion.

Sam: It is a talisman that brings good fortune during the New Year's over there. It may give the impression of being an unapproachable creature…

Sam: But these guys'll show up at New Year festivals and go around blessing people with luck in the coming year by chomping on their heads!

Jack: Eh? Are those people alright after getting their heads bit!?

Sam: Oh, oops, I didn't mean for you to misunderstand. It's merely a play bite, they're not really harming them.

Sam: We have these set up at the entrance to the eastern branch of our shop, so another shop tried to also put them out.

Sam: But it seems many customers find how they look scary. These got shipped over to us, to see if there was something we can do with them.

Malleus: I see. Although it is a creature specifically for ringing in the new year, people are frightened and avoid it…

Malleus: …Sam, I will be borrowing this ＳＨＩＳＨＩＭＡＩ for a moment. I shall use my magic to puppeteer it and bring customers back in.

Floyd: What, the guy everyone's scared of is gonna use a bit of decoration that everyone's also scared of to try and bring people in? Ain't that gonna just scare 'em off even more?

Malleus: A talisman from a far-off land should pique their curiosity.

Malleus: It will be enough if I simply use my magic to manipulate it to move as if it were alive, to garner the people's eye.

Malleus: I will test how it moves. I shall leave my post for a moment, I leave you all to take of things.

Jamil: Uh… Malleus-senpai?

[Courtyard]

Malleus: Hm… I consulted some eastern resources… Is this how it should be moving?

Jamil: Ah, I thought you'd be here.

Malleus: Viper. How did you know where to find me?

Jamil: I assumed that you'd be in a pretty open space if you were going to try to maneuver something that big.

Jamil: Is there anything I may help you with?

Jamil: It's not like there's any use sticking around the shop when business is slow, after all…

Jamil: I can't just stand around while our team's special bonus and the shop's profit are in jeopardy.

Malleus: Then, perhaps you could provide me your opinions on how the ＳＨＩＳＨＩＭＡＩ should move.

Malleus: I've no trouble manipulating it with my magic, yes…

Malleus: However, I require a solution in order for it to move smooth enough to draw in customers.

Jamil: I understand. Then, I will observe your movements and support you to the best of my abilities.

[Courtyard]

[ZOOM!!]

Malleus: How did that movement seem?

Jamil: It was so fast I couldn't see anything!

Jamil: It may be a legendary beast, but I can't imagine it would move that fast… I think it would be better for it to move slower.

Malleus: I thought perhaps that would give it more life… Then, I suppose this time I will attempt to move it more serenely.

Malleus: I should tilt and turn its head slowly… Have it dance in the heavens as if rising from the earth…

[GRAH!!]

Jamil: …!? What was that move just now…!?

Malleus: Oh, did it seem alive?

Jamil: No, not at all.

Jamil: It was just moving in an unnatural way for a real, living creature… So I imagined a terrifying monster instead.

Malleus: Terrifying? Well, that would just cause the people to flee even more.

Malleus: It seems there is still much room for improvement. I'll focus on how the joints move next. Let's see, now…

Malleus: …This was a failure as well. Moving it with my magic may be simple enough, and yet it is attempting to give it life that is eluding me.

Malleus: What must I do to have it move with an elegance that will draw the humans back in?

Jamil: …......

Malleus: What is it, Viper? You've been silent for some while now. Have you exhausted yourself?

Jamil: Ah, no…

Jamil: I just couldn't get out of my head how terrifying the ＳＨＩＳＨＩＭＡＩ was as it moved.

Jamil: It almost seemed as though it could swallow us whole… It left a pretty big impact on me.

Malleus: So, you say it left an unforgettable impression on you?

Malleus: Hm…

Jamil: What's wrong? Is something the matter?

Malleus: I've just had a good idea… I think I know what would attract the people.

[Beside Mister S's Mystery Shop]

A few hours later―

Scarabia Student A: I want to go see the sales at the Mystery Shop…

Students: BUT MALLEUS DRACONIA'S TOO SCARY!!

Scarabia Student A: Is it true that he got mad during his shift and fired down lightning bolts? Maybe we should just go home…

Savanaclaw Student A: Hey, something is coming.

[rustle, rustle, ROOOAR!!]   

Savanaclaw Student A: Ack, what's that monster!? There's a huge lion-lookin' thing floating in the air.

Scarabia Student A: It's creepy with how it's wiggling like that… Why's there a terrifying monster like that on campus?

[drifts away]

Savanaclaw Student A: Oh, it's going back towards the Mystery Shop.

Students: …

Scarabia Student A: That was scary, but… Why do I feel like checking it out?

Savanaclaw Student A: I totally get you! I'd never seen anything like that…

Savanaclaw Student A: …Let's go after it!

[Mister S's Mystery Shop]

Scarabia Student A: Huh? It's pitch black in here… Where'd that thing from earlier go?

Malleus: Welcome.

Savanaclaw Student A: AAAAH, IT'S MALLEUS DRACONIA!!

Malleus: You've come for this, have you not? Heh, I am not surprised it piqued your curiosity.

Malleus: This is called a ＳＨＩＳＨＩＭＡＩ, and it is considered a talisman of good fortune in the east.

Savanaclaw Student A: A talisman? So, basically, you're saying…

Malleus: That's correct, I am making it move with my magic.

[GWAK!]

Savanaclaw Student A: The  just raised its head up high and gave a howl before dancing in the air again! It's really got spirit…!

Pomefiore Student B: Seeing a strange unearthly creature next to Draconia like this… It gives me chills.

Pomefiore Student C: I-It's scary… Just lookin' at it feels overwhelming.

Students: BUT… I CAN'T TAKE MY EYES OFF IT. I JUST KEEP GETTING SUCKED IN…!

Sam: Ｆｌｙ! You did good, my horned imp!

Sam: We've got twice the number of customers and profits from before the slump. I was worried there for a moment, but it looks like it was a blessing in disguise!

Jamil: Right now, there is a sight that cannot be witnessed anywhere else…

Jamil: Once that rumor got out, it became a grand success that's packed this shop full of customers.

Floyd: Looks like even the miniature ＳＨＩＳＨＩＭＡＩ are all gettin' sold, too. These morons're too easy.

Malleus: I simply took Viper's advice and suggested we sell them. He said that for occasions such as these, a memento would be highly sought after.

Jamil: To be perfectly honestly, I didn't actually think they'd sell this well. All this must be due to Malleus-senpai's influence.

Malleus: My influence, hm. Well, I do admit that I thought long and hard about that because of this incident.

Jack: Hm? What does that mean?

Malleus: Viper said that the way the ＳＨＩＳＨＩＭＡＩ moved was unforgettable and terrifying…

Malleus: So I thought to myself. Why is the ＳＨＩＳＨＩＭＡＩ considered a legendary beast, although it is feared by many?

Malleus: When humans fear something, it means that they are in awe of its power.

Malleus: Whether they are frightened or entranced by it, there is a fine line between fear and reverence.

Malleus: Thus, wouldn't it make sense drawing out the feelings of reverence from the thing that evokes fear, and gain the attention of those people?

Sam: I see… Did you come up with that because of what you experienced?

Sam: I'd expect nothing less from you, my horned imp. I'm sure the ＳＨＩＳＨＩＭＡＩ are also happy to have their moment in the spotlight, as well.

Sam: Just as I promised, I'll consider that slump earlier completely forgotten. If anything else, I'll consider it bonus points towards your special bonus!

[knock, knock, knock]

Diasomnia Student A: Um! Do you guys still have some of those mini ＳＨＩＳＨＩＭＡＩ for sale!?

Octavinelle Student A: I hear that if we buy that, we'd gain awesome magical power just like Malleus Draconia. I absolutely need one!

Sam: Oh, my. They're still coming, even though we're supposed to be closed… Tomorrow may be just as busy as today, at this rate.

Jamil: Malleus-senpai, looks like you were a hit. …Although, I feel like their reactions are still kind of self-centered.

Malleus: I'm paying it no mind. I consider the work I have done here to simply be another experience that dots my brief time as a student here.

Malleus: I want to be able to enjoy myself until the very end. I shall overlook any minor issues.

Sam: You said it. Keep those vibes going all the way 'til the last day for me.

Malleus: Naturally. You may leave it to me.

Malleus: I shall use my awe-inspiring power that toes the line of fear to continue to bring in even more customers.

Requested by Anonymous.

[batboysanonymous]

A Taste of Silence

Pt. II

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Summary: Rhys's drunken words cut deeper than any blade, leaving Y/n questioning everything she thought she knew about their bond. As heartbreak and betrayal collide, she faces a choice that could shatter the fragile threads holding their world together.

Pt. I

──────────────────────────────

Rhysand was drowning.

He had endured centuries of torment in Amarantha’s Court, faced death and destruction in ways that would have broken lesser males—but this? This was agony unlike anything he had ever known.

Because this wasn’t just losing her. This was being the cause of her pain.

The bond was still there, a heavy, throbbing weight tethered to his soul. It twisted and pulled at him, refusing to let him forget the raw betrayal in her eyes when she left. He couldn’t block it out. Couldn’t shut down the waves of anger and hurt radiating from her, nor the faint echo of her presence that haunted his every step.

He didn’t deserve to forget.

He followed her from a distance, staying just out of sight, knowing he had no right to approach her. She had retreated to a small, snow-laden village on the outskirts of his territory, a place so quiet and unassuming it seemed designed to swallow grief whole. Rhys respected her boundaries—at least, as much as he could while still ensuring she was safe.

The villagers had no idea their little haven was now fiercely guarded by shadows. Every night, he patrolled the perimeter, silent as death, ensuring no threat could come close. When a pack of feral beasts wandered too near, Rhys killed them before they could even scent the village. He cleaned up the blood and left no trace, unwilling to let her see the lengths he was going to for her protection.

She might hate him, but she was still his mate. And he would protect her, even if it tore him apart.

But even the small things he could do weren’t enough. Not when every second without her was a reminder of the chasm he’d created between them. The cold, empty nights stretched endlessly, the silence gnawing at his mind until he thought he might go mad.

──────────────────────────────

The third week after her departure, he broke.

He had sworn to himself that he wouldn’t intrude, and wouldn't push her until she was ready. But the bond burned unbearably that day, tugging at him with a force that felt like claws raking through his chest. He flew to her cabin before he could stop himself, landing with a muffled thud on the snow-packed ground.

She was outside, stacking firewood with her back to him. She froze when his boots crunched against the snow.

“Don’t,” she said without turning, her voice cold enough to make him falter.

“Please,” Rhys choked out, his voice hoarse.

She didn’t respond, and he didn’t think—he just dropped to his knees. The snow soaked through his leathers, numbing his skin, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t care.

“Please,” he repeated, his voice breaking. “Please, just listen to me. I—” His throat closed up, the words catching on the lump that had lodged itself there since the moment she left. He dragged a trembling hand through his hair, his shoulders sagging under the weight of his desperation. “I know I hurt you. I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I—Cauldron, I can’t live like this. I can’t live without you.”

Her breath hitched, but she didn’t move.

“You are everything to me,” he said, his voice raw. “Everything. And I hate myself for what I did, for the way I made you feel. I’ll spend the rest of my life making it right, if you’ll let me. But if you can’t…” He swallowed hard, tears stinging his eyes. “If you can’t, I’ll still do it. I’ll protect you. I’ll make sure you’re safe and happy, even if it’s from afar. I don’t care what it costs me, as long as you’re okay.”

“How can I trust that the next time you’re drunk or angry, you won’t say something that cuts me to the bone?”

Her words hit like a dagger, sharp and precise. He bowed his head, his voice trembling as he replied, “I don’t deserve your trust, not after what I said. But I swear to you, I will never drink if it means risking your pain. I’ll stop entirely if you ask me to. Nothing—nothing—is worth losing you again.”

Her arms crossed, her shields firmly in place, though he caught the faintest waver in her expression. “And what happens the next time we fight, Rhys? What if you get angry? Will you throw my weaknesses in my face again?”

His head snapped up, anguish written across his features. “Never. I would never—” His voice broke. “You are not my weakness. You are my strength. And if I ever forget that, I want you to walk away and never look back. But I swear to you, Feyre, I will spend every day of my life proving to you that I’ve learned from this. That I will never, ever make you feel like that again.”

Her lips parted, but no words came. He could feel her battling herself, the bond between them a swirling tempest of doubt and yearning.

“I’ll do whatever it takes,” he whispered, his knees sinking deeper into the snow. “I’ll spend the rest of my life earning your trust if I have to. Just tell me how to begin.”

The silence stretched taut between them, and Rhys didn’t dare move. Finally, she spoke, her voice soft but edged with steel. “Prove it.”

Her shields weren’t just up—they were fortified. But he didn’t need to feel the bond to see the war raging within her.

──────────────────────────────

The days that followed were a slow, painful process. Rhys didn’t push. He stayed near enough to be there if she needed him but far enough to give her space. He continued his quiet watch over the village, eliminating threats before she ever knew they existed. He left her gifts—small things he hoped might bring her comfort. A new brush when he saw her old one had broken. A scarf enchanted to keep her warm even in the bitterest winds. And a note with every gift: I’m still here. I always will be.

She started letting him stay for longer each time he visited. They didn’t talk much at first—just sat in heavy, charged silence. But gradually, the walls began to crack. She started asking him questions, small and tentative, and he answered with an honesty that left him vulnerable and bare.

The night she finally forgave him, it was snowing.

They were sitting by the fire, the soft glow casting flickering shadows across the room. Rhys’s voice was low and steady as he recounted the years he’d spent under the mountain. The rawness of the memories was evident in the way his hands clenched and unclenched, but he forced himself to speak, each word a step toward atonement.

Y/N sat across from him, silent, her gaze fixed on the flames. Her fingers twisted the hem of her sweater, the movement restless and uncertain.

“You didn’t just hurt me,” she said at last, her voice trembling. “You betrayed me, Rhys. You made me feel small, like I didn’t matter.”

The words tore through him, but he didn’t flinch. He nodded, his throat tightening. “I know. And I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure you never feel that way again.”

She looked at him then, her eyes glassy with unshed tears. “How can I trust you not to run your mouth again? To not let some drink or situation make you careless with me?”

He sucked in a sharp breath, shame crashing over him. “You can’t—not yet. But I’ll prove to you that you can. I’ll prove it every single day, Y/N.” His voice cracked, his chest heaving as he lowered himself to his knees before her.

“Please,” he begged, his hands trembling as he clasped hers. “Please, give me a chance to earn back your trust. I’ll never take another sip of wine if that’s what it takes. I’ll never let myself forget the weight of what I have to lose. You are everything to me.”

Her lip trembled as she stared at him, the rawness in his expression and the desperation in his voice cutting through her defenses. “I’m terrified, Rhys. Of trusting you again. Of getting hurt again.”

His thumbs brushed over her knuckles as he held her hands tightly, his head bowing. “I know. And if I ever break your trust again, I’ll deserve every ounce of that fear. I’ll deserve to lose you. But I won’t. I swear to you, Y/N, I won’t.”

The bond between them hummed faintly, like a whisper of what it once was, and it pulled at her even as she hesitated. She reached out, cupping his face with trembling fingers.

“You have one chance, Rhys,” she whispered, her voice heavy with both hope and caution. “One.”

He exhaled a shaky breath, pressing her palm to his lips. “I won’t waste it. I swear to you, I’ll never waste it.”

When she finally leaned into him, resting her head against his chest, his arms wrapped around her protectively, as if he could shield her from every hurt in the world—including himself. The bond sang louder, fuller, and in that moment, they began to mend what had been broken, piece by fragile piece.

[delusionalwh6re]

hellooo can i request a smut fic of hyun ju??? its like a brat tamer one AHHHHH i can't describe ittttt thankssss

i gotchu!! this is my first time ever writing for a trans character so i was a bit nervous ngl… i didn’t wanna do anything offensive. i’m not fully educated so i kept it simple but still steamy 😭 i hope you enjoy ml <3

࿐࿔ ⋆ ｡˚ good for ya’

࣪˖ ִֶָ🐇་༘࿐ cho hyun-ju x fem!reader

warnings: brat taming, fingering, hair pulling, face sitting, mommy kink (it’s literally only said twice lol), edging, dirty talk, bathroom sex, cursing, orgasm denial and cursing

summary: your girlfriend has had enough of that bratty ass attitude of yours… so she gets you together

authore’s note: the gayness came out of me writing this 😭 i love this baddie sm, hyun ju supremacy!

Hyun-ju watched you from afar. The way your face held no expression, your eyes boring into others as if you dared them to say the wrong thing to you, your hips swaying with confidence as you walked around like you were the head bitch in charge. Like you fucking owned the place.

It pissed Hyun-ju off. You had all the time in the word to have this little attitude of yours but not enough to be a grown ass woman and speak about your guy’s problems.

When she found out you were in the games, she immediately began to worry for you. You weren’t the type to… listen. You didn’t believe in rules, you made your own. So you wouldn’t survive in a place like this.

But you on the other hand, the second you saw her it seemed like some sort of competition forming between you two.

With the way you were acting towards her, it would be hard to believe that the two of you were.. together.

And as long as you kept it up, she was gonna show you.

So that’s exactly what she did.

“Oh, oh! Hyun-ju! just wait-” your squeals bounced off the stall walls in attempts to get your girlfriend to slow down her almost painful fingering.

“No! What did I tell you huh?” her fingers showed no remorse as she curled them inside of you.

“Uhh” you threw your head back, your pussy clenching around her thick digits.

“You don’t know how to listen, so I’m gonna teach you” she whispered in your ear pulling her fingers out of you slowly.

You whimpered at the lost of contact and immediately reached out for her to get it back. You needed it. Needed anything to get some relief. You needed her.

She chuckled at you. Your usual hard headed and cocky act flowing right down the drain. You looked pathetic. Slick dropped from your puffy pussy, your tits perked up needing attention, hair was a mess… in all reality you were just a mess.

“Why don’t you ever behave?” her hand went to give your hair a soothing caress while her words swirled through your mind repeatedly.

“Ju” the nickname you always called her flew out your swollen lips in a whisper “need you, please?” your head tilt would’ve usually got the best of her but not this time.

You needed to be taught a lesson.

The only thing that was now heard in the bathroom was heavy breathing and the muffled background of players interacting.

Your back slammed against the cold stilled stall as Hyun-ju pulled onto your hair and pressed you against it. A fight of dominance now between the two of you with your lips. Teeth clashing and tongues gliding over each others — it was so hot.

“You’re gonna pay” she pulled away slightly for some air, not letting up on you at all before slamming your her lips back against yours.

Now it was your turn to gain control. With what little strength you had left, you held onto your girlfriend to turn the both of your around — her back now pressed against the stall.

You started feeling up on her with your dainty hands, your fingers brushing over her body. The two of you completely naked in front of one another.

“Teach me then” your voice laced with seduction as you rubbed at the sides of her hips — leaning closer to press your lips against her ear “mommy”

The feeling of your lips along with the heat of your words made her skin crawl. Immediate goosebumps and arousal taking over her body. She couldn’t wait anymore — she needed to taste you and she needed it now.

Hyun-ju looked at you up and down, licking her lips with anticipation that only made you wetter for her. Whether she realized it or not.

Her body walking towards yours. The feeling of your chests now being pressed together as the two of you connected lips once again. Her strong but gentle hands squeezing a handful of your ass.

She twirled you guys around so now you were the one with your back facing the stall. You were ready to take control but Hyun-ju caught you off guard when she spoke up

“Sit on my face”

“Ju — I don’t know if that’s possible”

You squealed when she grabbed your hips to pull you closer towards her now sitting body “I wasn’t asking”

She looked so beautiful underneath you. Her short hair in a low ponytail with her signature bangs sticking to her forehead — lips swollen as she stared up at you as she was amazed, which she was.

You just wanted to devour her.

“Not this time sweetheart, you’ve been a bad girl” her words caught you out of your trance as she rubbed the outside of your thighs

A huff leaving your mouth in annoyance — was she in your head?

“I don’t ca—”. you started to say before a harsh slap was landed onto your ass

You winced in pain before looking down at your very non sympathetic girlfriend — instantly regretting your actions at her next move

“This is your problem! You don’t listen” she yanked you upwards to hover your bare pussy above her face

This position being awkward in the small bathroom. Your arms having to hold your self up against the stall walls and your legs have to crouch down on the edge of the toilet seat — yuck.

But all your discomfort left as soon as Hyun-ju placed her lips against your throbbing clit

“Oh!” you cried out in ecstasy as she began sucking on you like a pacifier

That feeling not lasting for long before she began teasing your hole with the tips of her fingers. Plunging them inside you with a force that sent you jolting up.

“Stop moving” her voice muffled against your wet heat

“So —so good” you grinned against her face as you threw your head back. Her tongue lapping up your slit with ease. Wet smacking filling the bathroom every time she made contact with your pussy.

“Mhmm” she hummed against you slapping your ass before squeezing the flesh firmly — keeping you from trying to move away from her — as if you wanted to, not when she ate you good every single time.

“You gonna apologize?” her mouth came off of you with a low ‘pwah’ while she curled her fingers inside of you

“N-no” you stuttered with determination

“No? Did you just tell me no?” she scoffed angrily picking up her face as your jaw dropped. Your slick glistening down her hand as she practically pounded your with her fingers.

“I-I’m cumminggg, mommy please” you pleaded as you rode her fingers with your eyes closed. Going up and down on them with speed, ready to chase your orgasm— the knot in your stomach getting stronger as the outside world closed out of your head.

“Yeah?” her voice laced with sarcasm and you could heard the smirk in her voice.

You were so close, at the very edge. Until it was ripped away from you. Your eyes shot open as with disappointment as you looked at your girlfriend with sad eyes.

“Ju, no, don’t do this to me, please I’m sorry. I’ll be a good girl for you. Only you.” you weren’t one to beg but Hyun-ju had you doing things no one else could

You were so in love with her, even though you had a shitty way of showing it.

“Next time don’t be such a brat and then you could get what you want” she looked up at you with a shit eating grin — she knew she won. Like she often did.

Hyun-ju was the only person who could put you in your place.

Your eyes filled with tears “I love you baby, I’ll be good just for you, please just make me cum”

You got off from above her and got on your knees pleading in front of her. You didn’t even care if anyone heard you anymore. You just wanted the love of your life to please you.

“Only good girls get to cum” she whispered in your ear as she stood up to put her clothes back on

And after that, you were working to be on you best behavior just to get her to fully please you again.

I NEVER WROTE ANYTHING LIKE THIS BEFORE?? i rlly hope this came out good and don’t sound stupid 😭

[d-z20]

yeeeaaahhhhhhh so I had a few more thoughts about Therapist!Agatha as per the tags in these posts and decided to share them with the class :o

Epilogue

As you gathered your things, you felt lighter, almost dizzy with relief. Dr. Harkness always knew what to say and how to smooth out the jagged edges in your thoughts. She made everything feel manageable—like nothing was ever as bad as it seemed.

"You’ve been doing so well lately," she told you, her voice steady and warm. "I can see how much you’re opening up, how much you trust me."

The words had sunk into you, soft and sweet, a balm against something raw. You trusted her. Of course, you did.

Her palm had grazed your back just briefly as she ushered you toward the door. "Take care," she murmured, her touch grounding and familiar.

You stepped out, blinking against the sudden clarity of the hallway lights. Something felt off, but you couldn’t place what. Your mind was hazy—soft, pliable even. Dr. Harkness, no, Agatha made everything better. She always did.

It wasn’t until you were halfway home that the realisation struck; you patted all your pockets and checked your bag to confirm, but yep, you didn’t have your phone on you. A jolt of panic cut through the fog, and you turned on your heel, heart thudding. You must have left it in her office.

The building was quiet when you returned, the hallway eerily still. Her office door was ajar, a sliver of golden light spilling into the dim corridor. You stepped closer, about to knock—

A sharp inhale. Then a soft, breathy moan.

You froze.

The sound was muffled but unmistakable. Your stomach flipped, heat rushing to your face. You should have left, should have pretended you heard nothing. 

Maybe she’s meditating. Maybe it’s some kind of grounding exercise she forgot to mention before. She wouldn’t do anything inappropriate. She’s your doctor. She knows what she’s doing.

But before you could move, her voice sliced through the thick silence.

"Come in, Y/N."

Fuck. Shit. Fuck. Fucking fuck.

Your breath caught in your throat. Had she seen your shadow outside the door? Heard your footsteps? You swallowed hard and pushed the door open, stepping inside, every nerve alight with something dangerously close to dread.

Agatha was slouched back in her chair, legs parted, her hand moving furiously between them. Her chest rose and fell in sharp, uneven breaths, her eyes half-lidded as if she were lost in some delicious haze. The air in the room was thick—charged with something suffocatingly intimate.

She didn’t stop. Didn’t startle. If anything, her lips curled into something knowing, something almost pleased.

"This is good," she huffed, her voice husky yet unwavering. "I had planned for this to be a later session, but... breakthroughs don’t always happen on a schedule. Sometimes, we stumble onto something important before we’re ready."

You hesitated, pulse hammering, but your body moved before your mind could catch up. You lowered yourself into the chair across from her, every muscle locked tight, every breath shallow.

She watched you through heavy eyes, her movements slowing, turning deliberate. "You hold so much inside you. So much stress, so much frustration."

Your fingers gripped the armrests as if they might anchor you. "I—"

A shuddering breath escaped you before you could stop it. Your thighs pressed together, warmth pooling, shame curling at the edges of it. But shame was the wrong word, wasn’t it? Dr. Harkness wouldn’t let you feel ashamed—not when she had spent so long helping you understand yourself.

"It’s alright," she soothed, her voice dipping into something honeyed. "Your body is responding because it knows this is right. You’ve been holding onto so much, and it’s exhausting, isn’t it? Letting go is hard. But I’m here to help you through it."

The air felt too thick to breathe. Your skin felt too tight, too hot, and yet something about her words soothed you, quieted the panic thrumming beneath the surface. Dr. Harkness knew best. She always had.

She shuddered, a long, low moan spilling from her lips as she orgasmed, her body trembling through the aftershocks. Her gaze stayed locked on you, unwavering, even as her chest heaved with exertion. The air between you was suffocating, electric.

And then, just like that, she exhaled slowly, her expression slipping into something serene. "See how natural this is?" she asked, her voice a lazy drawl. "How easy?"

You did feel warm. Overwhelmed, confused maybe—but not afraid. At least, not the kind of fear that made you want to run. If anything, you were rooted to your seat, unable to look away.

She tilted her head. "You don’t have to fight yourself, you know. That ache you feel? It’s just your body telling you what it needs. You can trust it. You can trust me."

Your fingers curled into the fabric of your sleeves. Trust. It was all she had ever asked of you, and you had never had reason to doubt her before.

She leaned forward, resting her chin in her palm as if the last few minutes had been nothing but routine. "You trust me, don’t you?"

The words settled into your bones, curling around your ribs. Of course, you trusted her. She had never led you astray before. The thought of questioning her felt almost childish, like undoing all the progress you had made.

She only wanted to help.

Your pulse thrummed against your skin, and you swallowed hard.

"Good," she murmured. "Then let us begin."

-----

I feel like I should mention that it took all of 15 seconds for Agatha to shove her hands down her pants after reader left and half of that was trying to get her damn button undone

The Therapist's Touch (NSFW)

Pairing: Agatha Harkness x Reader

Summary: You sought out Dr. Harkness for clarity, for someone to help untangle the mess in your mind. But as your sessions progress, the line between guidance and something far more intoxicating begins to blur.

- OR -

Agatha manipulates you and your mind and uses it as a way to start fucking you in the name of 'therapy'

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, dubcon, smut, Dark Agatha, gaslighting, manipulation, other toxic behaviour, fingering (R recv), praise kink, lots of 'good girl', talking through orgasm, mild choking at the end

Words: 2.9k

A/N: Just to repeat: this fic contains dubcon smut, gaslighting, and manipulation so if that is something that triggers you, please do not read. Requested Fic

AO3 | Master List

You met Dr. Harkness after a particularly bad week. You hadn’t been sleeping, your thoughts a tangled mess of self-doubt and frustration. Friends—if you could even call them that anymore—had started pulling away, and work was becoming unbearable. It was one of those situations where you weren’t sure if you were the problem or if everyone else was. You needed clarity. You needed someone to untangle the mess in your head.

And Agatha was perfect for that.

The first few sessions felt normal, even helpful. She was warm but not overly so, sharp-witted with a knowing smile that made you feel like she already had you figured out. You liked that. You wanted to be understood. She had a way of pulling things out of you, teasing out the thoughts you hadn’t even fully realized were lurking under the surface.

"You feel like you're being abandoned," she told you during a session, her voice smooth and steady. "Like the people around you are slipping through your fingers, and you don’t know why."

You nodded, relieved that someone finally understood.

"It must be frustrating," she continued, tilting her head slightly as if weighing her words carefully. "To always be the one reaching out, only to be left in the cold."

Your breath hitched. Was that true? You hadn’t really thought about it that way, but… now that she said it, it felt right.

"Maybe you expect too much from people," she mused, watching you carefully. "Or maybe they don’t appreciate you like they should."

A quiet pressure built behind your ribs, something heavy and unseen. That wasn’t a comforting thought, but there was something… validating about it. Like all the hurt you felt wasn’t just in your head.

"Maybe," you admitted.

She smiled, pleased. "I think people take advantage of your kindness. You let them, don’t you?"

You did, didn’t you?

—

The shift was slow, insidious. Agatha never outright told you what to think—she just guided you there, nudging you toward conclusions you weren’t sure were yours or hers. Your relationships became strained, but Agatha was always there to reassure you.

"You’re growing," she told you after a particularly emotional session. "You’re starting to see things for what they really are."

Warmth unfurled in your chest, wrapping around your ribs like a protective embrace. The weight of her gaze felt like an anchor, steadying you in a way nothing else had.

Agatha was dangerous in the way that only truly intelligent people could be. She never raised her voice, never forced an idea on you—she simply led you there, guiding you through your own thoughts like she was pulling a thread loose from a tangled knot.

And God, she was beautiful.

You noticed it in pieces at first. The sharp line of her cheekbones, the way her eyes stayed locked onto yours just a little too long, the elegant way she moved. She always dressed immaculately, sleek dark blouses that clung to her just right, lips painted in deep shades of red or plum. And then there was her voice. The kind of voice that settled into your bones and curled up there, wrapping itself around your ribs like it belonged to you.

It was embarrassing, really. You were falling for your therapist. But she made you feel seen in a way no one else had. And she never discouraged it.

Not directly.

"You hesitate when you talk about what you want," she noted, her voice gentle. "Why do you do that?"

You blinked, caught off guard. "I—what?"

"You second-guess yourself." She studied you carefully, fingers tapping lightly against the arm of her chair. "I’ve noticed it. You’ll start to say something, then stop. Like you’re afraid of being too much."

Your pulse fluttered. "I guess I just… don’t want to be a burden."

Her lips curled into something almost like amusement. "A burden?" she echoed, as if the idea itself was absurd. "Who told you that?"

You hesitated. Everyone, you wanted to say. Every time someone stopped texting back, every time you felt like you were grasping too hard to keep people close.

Agatha hummed, tilting her head just slightly. “Who have you been talking to about this?”

You blinked. “What?”

Her gaze was steady, expectant. “You said you feel like a burden. Who put that thought in your head?”

You hesitated. “I mean… I don’t know. I guess I mentioned it to a friend the other day, and they—”

Agatha tsked softly, shaking her head. “And what did they say?”

“They told me I was overthinking.”

A slow, knowing smile curled her lips. “Ah. Overthinking.” She leaned back, fingers tapping lightly against the arm of her chair. “That’s an easy way to dismiss you, isn’t it?”

You frowned. “I don’t think they meant it like that—”

“But it made you feel unheard,” she pressed gently. “Didn’t it?”

Your breath came a little faster. “I… maybe?”

Agatha nodded, like she’d expected that answer. “It’s interesting,” she mused, voice low and thoughtful. “How often people minimise your feelings. How quickly they brush you off.” Her gaze flickered back to yours, something soft and reassuring in it. “I would never do that to you.”

A tightness bloomed behind your ribs, bittersweet and impossible to ignore. “I know,” you murmured.

Her lips curled in satisfaction. “Of course you do.”

She leaned forward slightly, voice softening. "They made you feel that way," she spoke, like it was some kind of revelation. "Not because you are a burden, but because they don’t know how to appreciate you properly."

Something about the way she said it made your stomach twist.

"They don’t see you the way I do."

The words hung between you, electric.

You exhaled slowly, suddenly hyperaware of how close she was, how intimate these sessions had started to feelThe space between you felt thinner than before, her voice dipping into something softer, closer—like a secret meant only for you.

And then, like she knew exactly what you were thinking, she smiled.

"Tell me," she said, voice barely above a whisper. "When’s the last time someone truly listened to you?"

Your pulse hammered.

It should have set off alarms. But it didn’t. Because she was listening. She was there for you. More than anyone else has been.

Had anyone ever really listened?

—

The next session, Agatha watched you with something unreadable in her expression. Like she was studying a puzzle, waiting for the pieces to click into place.

“You seem tense,” she noted, her voice low, honey-smooth.

You huffed out a quiet laugh, but it came out strained. “Yeah, well. Life’s a little stressful.”

She tilted her head, gaze sharp, like she was peeling you apart layer by layer. “You hold yourself so tightly,” she stated, studying you like a specimen under glass. “You don’t even realise it, do you?”

Your brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“Your shoulders.” A flick of her fingers. “Your jaw. Your hands.”

You followed her gaze, your fingers curling instinctively before you forced them to relax.

“I think,” she continued, voice slow, deliberate, “you’ve spent so long bracing for impact that you don’t know how to let go.”

A strange heat curled in your stomach, something unspoken threading through the air between you.

She leaned forward slightly, elbows resting on her knees. “Would you let me help you?”

Your stomach flipped. “Help me how?”

Agatha smiled—calm, measured, soothing. “A simple exercise. One that might help you process the tension you’re carrying.”

You hesitated, but there was no reason to refuse. It was therapy. She was your therapist.

“Okay,” you said finally.

Her smile deepened, approval warm in her gaze. “Close your eyes,” she instructed.

You obeyed, exhaling softly.

“Now,” she assured, “I want you to focus on the weight of your body. The way your spine curves. The way your breath moves through you.”

Her voice was hypnotic, her words weaving their way into your bones.

And then—

Fingertips against your jaw.

You startled, eyes flying open, but Agatha hushed you gently.

“Shh,” she soothed, thumb brushing along your cheek. “It’s alright. You trust me, don’t you?”

Your breath came a little faster. The warmth of her touch was dizzying. “I—yes,” you whispered.

Her lips curled in satisfaction. “Good.”

Her fingers trailed lightly, tracing the curve of your throat. You swallowed, pulse hammering against her touch.

“Your body reacts before you do,” she noted, head tilting slightly. “You don’t even realise how much you hold back.”

Heat rushed to your face. You couldn’t tell if it was embarrassment or something else entirely.

Agatha’s grip firmed just slightly—not enough to hurt. Just enough to remind you she was there. “I want you to let go,” she murmured. “Trust me to guide you.”

Your mind spun, tangled between this is fine, she’s my therapist and why does this feel so good?

But you trusted her. So you nodded.

Her smile was slow, knowing. “Good girl.”

Your stomach flipped again. A rush of warmth curled through you, unsettling in its intensity.

She let her touch linger a moment longer before finally pulling back, leaving you bereft. “See?” she said, as if the moment hadn’t just unraveled something inside you. “You hold onto so much. But I can help you carry it.”

You swallowed hard, clinging to her words like a lifeline. “…Thank you,” you murmured.

“We’ll work through it together,” she promised.

You believed her.

You wanted to believe her.

Even as something in the back of your mind whispered that maybe—just maybe—you shouldn’t.

—

The session after that felt different from the moment you stepped into the room. The air in Agatha’s office was heavier, charged with something unspoken. It coiled around you, wrapping tight around your ribs as her eyes tracked your movements, assessing, waiting.

“Welcome back,” she said smoothly, gesturing for you to come further in. You obeyed, feeling strangely exposed under her gaze. She hummed, studying you. “You look tense again.”

You exhaled sharply. “I mean… I guess?”

Her smile deepened. “You’ve been thinking too much. Haven’t you?”

Your breath caught. Because—yes.

She chuckled softly. “I told you, darling. You carry everything too tightly.”

You swallowed.

“I want to try something different today,” she announced. “Something a little more… physical.”

Your brain short-circuited at the word.

She leaned forward, voice dipping into something lower, more intimate. “Have you ever done guided breathwork before?”

You shook your head.

She nodded, as if she expected that. “It’s about control,” she said. “Releasing what no longer serves you.”

Your breath hitched.

“May I touch you?” she asked, voice velvety smooth.

“Y—yeah,” you stammered, your pulse pounded in your ears.

She stood, stepping behind you. The air shifted as she moved closer, the heat of her body ghosting along your back before her hands settled on your shoulders—firm, warm, grounding.

“You’re so wound up,” she murmured, her thumbs pressing in, kneading slowly. A soft sigh slipped from your lips before you could stop it.

“Breathe with me,” she instructed, her lips near your ear now. “In…”

You inhaled shakily.

“Good,” she praised. “Now out.”

Her hands moved lower, gliding down your arms, her touch light but deliberate. “Again,” she hummed.

You obeyed, and as you exhaled, her hands skimmed lower, fingertips ghosting over the curve of your ribs, her thumbs teasing at the sides of your breasts. You stiffened, heat pooling between your thighs, but she only hummed in approval.

“You’re still holding back,” she whispered, breath warm against your skin. “I need you to let go.”

Her hands drifted lower, over your waist, her grip firm as she guided you back against her body. A quiet, shuddering exhale left you, your head swimming, warmth pooling low in your stomach.

“Good,” she praised, voice like silk. “You’re doing so well for me.”

A shiver ran down your spine as she pressed closer, the solid heat of her flush against your back.

“This tension you carry,” she sighed, her breath hot against your skin, “it needs to be released.”

Her hands slipped lower, over your hips, nails scraping lightly against fabric. A slow, deliberate drag that sent fire licking through your veins.

“Let me help,”

And then her hands moved lower. Your whole body went still.

Agatha hummed in approval. “You feel that, don’t you?”

A sound—something between a gasp and a whimper—escaped your lips, as your body burned with arousal.

“Good,” she praised again, like she could feel you unravelling beneath her touch. “You’re doing perfectly.”

Her touch dipped between your thighs causing a sharp gasp to tear from your throat as your body jolted, nerves alight.

“Shh, this is part of the process,” she soothed, her lips grazing your ear, the warmth of her breath sending shivers down your spine. “Trust me.”

You did. You shouldn’t, but you did.

Her hands were steady, patient, coaxing you back against her body. Heat seeped into your skin where she pressed, her perfume—something dark, heady, intoxicating—curling around you like smoke.

“This is what you need,” she declared, her fingers tracing slow, deliberate circles over your clothed clit. “A full release.”

Your body arched, a broken moan slipping past your lips before you could swallow it down.

“There it is.” Agatha’s voice was rich with satisfaction, her free hand dragging lazy patterns over your torso, her nails grazing just enough to make you shiver. “That’s my good girl.”

Shame curled low in your stomach, but it was drowned out by the pleasure winding tighter, by the way she spoke like she knew you better than you knew yourself. Maybe she did. No one else had reached this part of you—no one else had understood what you truly needed.

Only Agatha.

“You’ve been holding so much inside,” she mused, her fingers dipping beneath the waistband of your underwear, teasing the sensitive skin beneath. “I think it’s time to let me take care of you.”

You whimpered, your breath coming in uneven bursts, but you didn’t pull away. You didn’t want to.

A pleased hum vibrated in her throat as she pressed her fingers against your slick heat.

“Oh, darling,” she cooed, her lips brushing against your temple, “you do need me.”

Your head lolled back against her shoulder, your lips parting in a breathless moan as she circled your clit with practiced ease, teasing and coaxing you into submission.

“Such a sweet thing,” she remarked, her other hand coming up to tilt your chin, guiding your gaze to hers. “Look at me.”

Your eyes fluttered open, dazed and glassy, and the look she gave you made your stomach tighten.

“There’s my good girl.”

The praise sent a pulse of heat through you, something deep and desperate unraveling at the sound of it. You wanted to please her. To prove that you trusted her.

Her mouth slanted over yours, swallowing your gasped moans as her fingers slid inside you, slow and purposeful. A sharp cry left you as she stretched you open, her thumb still circling, teasing, never letting you sink too deep into mindlessness. She wanted you present. Aware.

Your body jerked, overwhelmed by the sensation, but her hands were steady, guiding you through it. “Breathe,” she instructed, her lips brushing against your cheek. “In through your nose… there you go, good girl… and out.”

You tried. You really did. But every exhale was a stuttering moan, your body trembling against hers.

“That’s it,” she soothed, her fingers curling just enough to make you keen. “Let yourself feel it. Let yourself fall.”

Your fingers grasped at her sleeve, desperate for something to hold onto as she worked you open, dragging you closer and closer to the edge.

“You’ve spent so long running from this,” she murmured, voice low, hypnotic, each word coiling around your ribs and pulling tight. “From what you need. From what I can give you.”

You shook your head weakly, barely processing her words through the pleasure threatening to swallow you whole.

“No?” She tutted, her fingers never ceasing. “Then tell me, darling… why are you shaking?”

You couldn’t answer. She had you undone, every nerve alight, every thought consumed by her.

“Let go,” she commanded, her voice velvet-soft but unyielding. “Let me take care of you.”

As the pleasure coiled tighter, your body trembled against her, every muscle wound impossibly tense. Agatha’s touch never wavered—precise, knowing, relentless.

"That's it," she murmured, her lips grazing the shell of your ear. "You’re so close, aren’t you?"

A breathless whimper escaped you, your hips bucking into her hand, chasing that final push. She chuckled softly, her fingers maintaining their rhythm, teasing you to the brink.

"Good girl," she praised, her voice dipping into something darker, richer. "Give it to me. I want to feel you cum on my fingers."

Your breath hitched, your body straining under the weight of pleasure, but she didn’t let you fall just yet. Her free hand dragged up your torso, nails grazing along your ribs before curling around your throat, a light, possessive pressure that made you gasp.

"You've been holding onto this for so long," she crooned. "But not anymore. Let. Go."

Her grip on your throat tightened ever so slightly as her fingers curled against your g-spot, pushing you past the point of no return. A sharp cry tore from your lips, your entire body arching as the pleasure finally snapped, pleasure ripping through you in waves.

"That’s it, my sweet girl," Agatha cooed, her voice dripping with satisfaction. "Ride it out—just like that. So perfect for me."

Your walls clenched around her fingers, the aftershocks making you shudder, but she didn’t stop. Not yet. She drew out every last pulse of pleasure, her touch easing from devastating to indulgent, dragging you through the bliss until you were nothing but a boneless, gasping mess in her arms.

"Such a good girl," she muttered, pressing a lingering kiss to your temple as her fingers finally stilled, her palm resting possessively against your slick heat. "I knew you could do it."

She let you catch your breath, but her fingers traced slow, lazy circles over your sensitive skin, teasing, reminding you who had brought you to this point.

Your breath still came in uneven shudders as she finally pulled her hand away. You barely had a chance to process the loss before she brought her fingers to her lips, her darkened eyes never leaving yours as she sucked them clean.

Heat flared in your cheeks.

Agatha only smiled.“We’ll continue this next session,” she promised, brushing a stray bead of sweat from your forehead. “I think we’re making real progress.”

-----

In this AU Agatha totally only became a therapist so she could mess around with people's minds and get paid for it.

N.B Agatha's behaviour is extremely toxic and manipulative due to the power she holds over reader. This work is purely fiction and such actions have no place in the real world.

-----

taglist: @aceday @danveration @alwaysharmony @idkwhatever580 @jujuu23 @lostbutlovely33 @sweetmidnights @6ange19

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

A Curse [Chapter 1: Chinatown]

Series summary: You are an aspiring actress. Aegon is a washed-up and disenchanted agent...at least until he sees something special in you. But within paradisical seaside Los Angeles you find terrible dangers and temptations, secrets and lies. Maybe Aegon's right; maybe the City of Angels really is a curse.

Chapter warnings: Language, references to sexual content (18+ readers only), a lil age gap, entertainment industry misogyny, some body dissatisfaction/dysmorphia, big doomed situationship energy, erotic apple eating, Minnesota.

Word count: 5.6k

💜 All my writing can be found HERE! 💜

Tagging: @lauraneedstochill @mrs-starkgaryen @chattylurker @neithriddle @ecstaticactus, more in comments! 🥰

🏝️ Let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist 🏝️

He takes your hand without looking at you. He had been lounging with his green Nike Killshots up on the desk when Brandon, the receptionist, brought you in. He had also been playing a translucent orange Nintendo 64; now the game is paused and Mario is frozen on the screen of the 24-inch television, deep underwater and in pursuit of a gold star affixed to the tail of a giant eel.

“Nice to meet you,” Aegon says without much interest. You’re smiling, not that he notices. Then he nods at the receptionist. “Thanks, Brando.”

“Oh, no problem at all!” Brandon trills buoyantly, pulling out your chair for you as Aegon flops back into his own. “Can I bring anything? Iced coffee, matcha latte, Perrier?”

“I’m good,” Aegon says, glancing at your resume where it rests on the desk amongst framed photographs, manilla folders, takeout menus, gum wrappers rolled into tiny balls. You have the impression he hasn’t read it. Nonetheless, you are still smiling.

“How about you, hon?” Brandon asks you.

You don’t want to make him run to a Starbucks or anything. “Um…I’ll take a Perrier, please. That’s easy for you, right? You can just grab it out of the minifridge in the lobby?”

“You betcha!” Brandon darts out of the office and returns in ten seconds. In the elapsed time, Aegon has not looked at you once. Instead, he slouches in his chair and thumps his Nikes onto the desk, sighs, and gazes longingly at the television screen. You sit up straight with your hands folded in your lap. You have dressed in business casual attire for the occasion: a modest yellow sundress and TOMS wedges, warm understated eyeshadow, sparkly champagne pink Dreamer by Anastasia Beverly Hills, matte brown Hope by Huda Beauty. Brandon returns and hands you a green glass bottle of Perrier, ice cold and slippery with condensation, and closes the door behind him as he leaves.

“Look, I’ll be honest,” Aegon tells you, picking up your resume and scanning it blandly. “I don’t want to waste your time, but I’m really not in the market for new clients. Brando made this appointment before I told him that, and then he really didn’t want to cancel it. He liked your resume or something. So I’ll hear you out but don’t expect much.”

“Oh. Well…I really appreciate you taking the time to see me anyway!”

He gives you a swift sideways look as if suspicious of your enthusiasm. It’s not that complicated; you haven’t had an audition in weeks, and none of the other six agents you’ve seen have signed you. Aegon Targaryen’s drab little office in one half of a duplex in Elysian Park is a relative paradise. His blonde hair is gelled back from his face. He wears dark jeans, a teal t-shirt, and a wrinkled tan sport coat jacket thrown carelessly overtop. You’ve Googled him; he’s thirty-five, so a decade older than you. “Where are you from?”

That’s on your resume he hasn’t read. “Minnesota.”

Aegon’s eyebrows shoot up. “No wonder you left. City or country?”

“A town called Apple Valley, it’s about a half hour outside of Minneapolis.”

“So you’re not a nepo baby.”

“A what?”

“Your parents aren’t connected to the entertainment industry in any way.”

“Oh right, no, they definitely aren’t. My dad’s a cardiologist. My mom worked as a waitress while he was in med school, and now she just has a lot of Akitas.”

Aegon flips over your resume and skims the back. “Are they supportive of you being out here?”

“Um…” You chuckle uneasily. “Not really. My older sister’s a pharmacist and my brother’s in law school, so I am definitely the underachieving child. But they’re not too mean about it. They’re just waiting for me to get it out of my system.”

“Law school where?”

“Michigan.”

“State or University?”

“University.”

“So you’re really smart,” Aegon says. He has begun to fold your resume into a paper airplane. “Intelligence is genetic. If your siblings are book smart, you probably are too.”

You smile and shrug, not knowing what to say. “I guess so.”

“Do you have a boyfriend back in Minnesota who’s calling you every other day trying to convince you to come home and marry him and have two kids and a Goldendoodle?”

You laugh. “No, no boyfriend. I mean, I have an ex-boyfriend there. I see him sometimes when I fly home to visit. But he’s not standing in the way of anything.”

Aegon nods like you’ve passed a test. “Do your parents send you money?”

“Yeah, but not a lot. They don’t want to encourage me. I work at a Cold Stone Creamery in Harbor Gateway, it’s just a few blocks away from my apartment. I have a roommate, she’s trying to be an actress too.”

“Ice cream,” he muses. He launches your paper airplane resume; it sails across the room, hits the mint green wall, nosedives to the floor. “Do you like working there?”

“It’s fine. It’s a paycheck. Back in the spring I was doing after-school programs for Mad Science, driving all over Watts and Southeast teaching children about bugs and magnets and outer space, so that was really cool.”

Aegon looks up at you, brow furrowed. It’s the first time you’ve had his full attention. “You were doing after-school programs in Watts?”

“Yeah, it was awesome. The kids were so fun. But I needed something that was more flexible so I could be free during the middle of the day for auditions and stuff.”

He blinks at you a few times. “Why do you want to be an actress?”

You stall, twisting open your Perrier and taking a gulp. “That’s a hard question.”

“It’s literally the most obvious question. If you can’t answer it, I don’t know what you’re doing here.”

“Well, I never wanted to be an actress,” you say. “I just kind of…am one. I can’t read a book without my expressions and my posture changing to match what’s going on in the story. I can’t watch a movie without feeling like I’m in that world with the characters, or, or, or imagining how I would have delivered the lines differently. And then even when I’m doing something totally unrelated…math homework, walking my mom’s Akitas, making ice cream…I envision where the cameras would be if I was being filmed, which way I would tilt my face to catch the light. It’s something I think about all the time and I can’t turn it off. So how am I supposed to be a doctor or a lawyer and spend my entire life trying to avoid every thought that occurs to me organically? It sounds like torture.”

Aegon stares at you, a long golden silence as daylight pours in through the windows facing the east. Then he drops his green Nikes to the floor and straightens up in his chair, studying you. He points to the windows. “Look that way.”

You do, closing your eyes when the glare is too bright.

“Now the other side of the room.”

You turn to the mint green wall where your paper airplane resume rests on the hardwood floor like the wreckage of the Titanic sits at the bottom of the ocean.

“Stand up.”

You set your bottle of Perrier on his cluttered desk and obey, but with some reluctance. “Please don’t ask me to bend over.”

Aegon snorts a laugh. “That’s not what I’m doing. I want you to go to the door and then walk back to me like you’re angry.”

“I have a bunch of acting reels on YouTube—”

“I don’t want to see your acting reels. I want to see you in front of me right now.”

“Okay,” you agree. You go to the closed door, take a moment to shake off the real world, and then walk to his desk, your footsteps heavy and your eyes hard. Aegon’s dark blue gaze follows you and does not waver.

“Look at me like you’re sad.”

You imagine he’s said something horrible to you, a husband who’s broken a vow, a doctor with a grim prognosis.

“Good!” Aegon says, animated now. “You get it. It’s in the eyebrows, not the mouth.” He gestures to your chair. “Now sit down like you don’t want to be here.”

You move sluggishly, like you hope someone will interrupt you; your eyes float boredly around the room. Then you plop heavily into the chair and stare at Aegon, a little vacuously inane, a little resentful like a petulant teenager. You pretend to chew gum you don’t have.

Aegon smiles, amused. “If I’d asked you to bend over, would you have done it?”

“I’d like to say no, but I’m pretty desperate.”

He snickers, shaking his head. “Don’t let a man make you uncomfortable. Don’t believe anyone if they say they want to drive you somewhere to see you audition or take your picture and nobody else you know is going. When you go to clubs and parties, watch the bartender make your drink and never put it down until you’re done. Don’t get talked into plastic surgery. Yes, that includes Botox and fillers.”

You sip your Perrier. “Well, I might get a boob job.”

“Don’t get a boob job.”

“Why not? Basically everybody here’s had one. I think Taylor Swift got two.”

“You don’t need a boob job,” Aegon says impatiently.

“I’m not sure you have all the knowledge to make an informed decision about that.”

“I am so sick of this bullshit,” he mutters, pushing the takeout menus and manilla folders around on his desk but leaving it no tidier. “People cutting up their perfectly normal bodies…people stuffing themselves full of poison…so afraid to look human they end up like motherfucking Bratz dolls.” He sighs and peers up at you again. “Just so you know, I’m getting out of L.A. I’m only going to be here until September. So by then you’ll have to find someone else. But I can get you started, I guess.”

You are beaming. “You’ll be my agent?”

“Yeah, but like I said—”

You squeal and leap to your feet, taking his left hand with both of yours and shaking it vigorously, Aegon gaping up at you. “Thank you! Thank you so much! I am going to be the best client you’ve ever had, I will never ever complain, I will do anything you say, I will audition with snakes and tarantulas, I will swim with sharks.”

Aegon grins, perhaps despite himself. “I don’t think that will be necessary.”

“Why are you leaving in September?”

“I’m getting married. Figured I’d do the whole settling down and living a quiet life thing.” He spins around one of the photographs on his desk so you can see it. In the frame, Aegon is standing on the edge of the Grand Canyon with a woman around his age, tall and willowy, long thick dark hair, flowing white sundress, wearing black aviator sunglasses to match his.

“That’s exciting!” You love weddings. “And you two look so happy together!”

“Yeah, Becca’s pretty great.” Aegon takes a stick of Juicy Fruit out of a pack on his desk, shoves it into his mouth, distractedly rolls the white and red wrapper into a ball. “She’s a real caretaker type. Always trying to do my laundry and pack me lunches and bake pies and whatever.”

“And that’s something you look for in a woman?” you tease lightheartedly. Aegon gives you a lightning-quick annoyed glance, and your smile abruptly dies. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude. Please don’t fire me.”

He chuckles and stands up from his desk, his hands in the pockets of his tan jacket. Mario is still underwater, forgotten on the frozen television screen. “Let’s go grab some lunch.”

“Right now?” You slide your phone out of your purse—crossbody, wildflowers, Patricia Nash but found at T.J.Maxx—to check the time. “It’s like 10:30 a.m.”

“They’ll be open by the time we walk to Chinatown.”

“Okay!” Lunch can only be a good thing. Still clutching your Perrier, you trot after Aegon into the small lobby, scuffed wood floor and cheap IKEA couches. Behind the reception desk, Brandon is making notes in a planner using one of those pens with a fake flower on top. He looks up at you and Aegon as you pass by.

“Brando, I’m taking an early lunch,” Aegon tells him.

Brandon is hopeful. “Are you signing her?”

“Yeah, but it’s just until—”

“Oh for cute!” Brandon cries out, and Aegon is stupefied. But you know exactly what Brandon means. He must be from Minnesota too. So that’s why he liked my resume. Los Angeles is kind of like the military; once you’re swimming in this multinational fishbowl, everyone from your home state is a friend.

“What part?” you ask, smiling.

“Duluth.”

“Bet the Pacific Ocean beats Lake Superior any day.”

“Have you been to Venice Beach yet?”

“Oh yeah. Heaven on earth.”

“Good luck with everything,” Brandon says, and then he winks. “I hope you get to stay.”

Stay in L.A. Stay here chasing the dream. Me too. Then you follow Aegon through the front door and down the concrete steps to the sidewalk, out into breezy mid-70s air and sunlight peeking from behind pure white tufts of cumulus clouds. You can hear music and dogs barking. The street is lined with quaint midcentury houses with metal fences and humming air conditioning units in the windows; any businessowners here are hanging their own shingle, beauticians and pet groomers and bakers. On the horizon, you can see the silvery skyscrapers of Downtown.

“So about that resume I clearly didn’t read,” Aegon says as he walks with his hands in his pockets. “Have you done any meaningful acting work since you’ve been out here?”

Why lie? “No.”

He gives you a shellshocked look like this is the worst case scenario. “Well…I appreciate your honesty. So you’ll take anything.”

“Absolutely anything. I mean…” You take an anxious swig of your Perrier. “I’d really rather not be naked.”

He’s laughing again. You’re not sure if he thinks you’re funny or ridiculous. “I’m not going to pitch you for roles that require nudity.”

You are relieved. “Okay. Cool.”

“Where did you act before?”

“After college I did some short films for grad students…they’re all pretty terrible, I’ll admit it, but I didn’t write them…and I was in a bunch of shows at the Guthrie Theater in Minneapolis. And I worked in the gift shop.”

“Guthrie?” Aegon says. “Like Woody Guthrie?”

“No, common mistake. A completely different Guthrie. Some English lord who was a director.”

“Which shows were you in?”

You describe your roles, all supporting, none leading: Romeo and Juliet, Othello, A Streetcar Named Desire, Pride and Prejudice, Julius Caesar, Anastasia, Frankenstein, August: Osage County, Richard III, Dracula. Aegon listens but he watches you too, the way you stride in your TOMS wedges over the cracked and uneven sidewalk, the way you use your hands too much when you talk, a habit you’re trying to break. His eyes on you—that deep and tumultuous blue—do not feel like a leer, and you think you’ve acquired enough experience in your past three months in Los Angeles to know the difference. Aegon’s gaze is no longer disinterested but methodical, practiced, ever-seeking, notes transcribed not in ink but electrical impulses and ineffable cyclones of neurotransmitters.

“Dracula,” Aegon jokes. “Vampire experience, huh? Maybe we could get you in the Twilight reboot.”

“Is that really happening?”

“It is, but it’s going to be animated. So it’s only voice acting. And I think we can aim higher than that.” He pauses at an intersection and looks lost for a few seconds, then remembers the way and bears to the right. This street is busier, hectic with shops and pedestrians, teenagers on skateboards, vendors advertising their fruit smoothies and boba teas. Red banners printed with twisted dragons and Chinatown 2025 hang from the streetlights. Towering palm trees cast shadows in the shape of windblown leaves. “Do you get along with your roommate?”

This is a random question. You finish your Perrier and discard the glass bottle in a trashcan. “Yeah, she’s really nice, we’re friends. Why?”

“Good. Housing instability is a huge source of stress for young actors, just wanted to make sure you weren’t in danger of ending up sleeping under a bridge.”

“I might be if her boyfriend ever gets a job and can pay half of the rent.”

“Well if it happens, let me know. I can help get you set up somewhere.” Aegon yanks his phone out of his jeans pocket to check the time. “We’ve got a few more minutes to kill,” he says, and ducks into a market strewn with crates of produce: bitter melon, bok choy, pears, pomelos, dragon fruit, peaches, plums, durian, sweet potatoes, kumquats, lychees. You follow after Aegon as he weaves through narrow, crowded aisles, inspecting the wares and waving to shopkeepers that he recognizes. He asks you as he points to a dozen cardboard boxes overflowing with apples: “Does this make you homesick for Appletown?”

“Apple Valley,” you correct him, laughing. “And not quite. I’d rather have Venice Beach.”

“What’s the state apple of Minnesota?”

“I have no idea.”

“Let’s find out.” He uses his phone to Google it. “Honeycrisp.”

“Oh neat! Those are pretty good.”

“Are they?” He searches until amongst the Granny Smiths and Fujis and Golden Delicious apples he finds a box labelled Honeycrisp. “I don’t think I’ve ever tried one.”

“Now’s your chance.”

Aegon picks up a large, glossy apple, pinkish-red and striped with yellow, and takes a massive bite. Juice dribbles down his mouth and chin; he wipes it away with the back of his hand. “I’m going to pay for it,” he assures you when you look startled. He chews, deliberating. “This apple sucks. This is a flop apple.”

“You are blinded by your anti-Minnesota prejudice.”

“It’s boring.”

“How can an apple be boring?”

“It’s like…too sweet. Not tart enough. Not as good as a Braeburn or a Pink Lady. Here.” Aegon tosses the Honeycrisp apple and you catch it. Then, when you stare at the sizeable bitemark he’s left in the fruit: “Wait, I mean, you don’t have to eat that part, obviously. Try the other side—”

But you’ve already bitten over the same spot, enlarging the wound, your tongue grazing the notches left by Aegon’s teeth. You giggle as you lick juice from your lips. “It’s so good. You’re delusional.”

Aegon watches you for a while before he speaks. In the meantime, you finish eating the apple with quick chomps. “Are you medicated?” he says.

“What? No, why?”

“You just seem…I don’t know. Bizarrely happy.”

“Why wouldn’t I be happy? I’m in Los Angeles, I’m living the dream, I have a brand new agent. My life is amazing.”

“Okay,” Aegon says uncertainly; but he’s smiling. When you pitch the apple core back to him, he catches it. Then he grabs a plastic bag off a hook and drops one fresh Honeycrisp apple inside. “We’ll let Brando be the tiebreaker.” He shows two fingers to a shopkeeper and pays in cash. You steal a glimpse of your phone; it’s just after 11:00 a.m.

Down the street from the market is a set of steps leading into what appears to be a basement. Instead, when Aegon opens the red door, on the other side is a restaurant already filling up with patrons. The tables are round and covered with crimson tablecloths; at each seat is one of those paper Chinese zodiac calendars with all twelve animals and their descriptions.

“Good morning Mr. Aegon!” a tall middle-aged waitress says warmly and ushers you both to a table by a large fish tank with opalescent pebbles lining the bottom. From the other side of the glass, colossal black-and-orange oscars gawp menacingly. The waitress passes you a menu.

“No,” Aegon says, snatching the menu out of your hands before you can open it. “Order what you’d normally get.”

Obediently, you turn to the waitress. “Do you have moo goo gai pan?”

She nods. “White rice or fried rice?”

“White rice, please.”

“Mr. Aegon?” the waitress says.

“Boneless spare ribs with fried rice. And a pot of tea, and two wanton soups. Thanks, Lanying.”

She hurries away to tend to other customers. You ask Aegon playfully: “Did I make the right choice?”

“You did. Naturally low-calorie but high in vitamins and protein. If you’d ordered the sesame chicken and only taken two bites I’d know that you probably have an eating disorder. But now I’m optimistic.”

“And you got the most unhealthy thing on the menu. What does that mean?”

“Life is short. I try to keep it delicious.” He taps the side of the fish tank; one of the oscars attempts to maul him through the glass. “Do you exercise?”

“Not by choice. I force myself to walk to and from work, and that’s the best I can do.”

Aegon seems alarmed. “I don’t think you should be wandering all over Harbor Gateway. Especially not at night.”

“There are always other people around.”

“Yeah, and some of them might mug you.” The waitress arrives with a pot of tea and two small, handleless cups. Aegon fills both with tea, slides one to you, and reaches for the little plastic container of sweeteners on the table. “Splenda?” Aegon guesses correctly and then flings several yellow packets across the table to you.

“Can I ask you something now?”

“Sure, go ahead,” Aegon says. The waitress returns with two bowls of wanton soup and makes conversation with Aegon briefly. She inquires about his health, his parents, his business. You wait until she leaves to ask your question.

“Why did you stop acting?” You Googled Aegon before your meeting, so you know some abbreviated version of his story: a wealthy and prominent family in the production industry, several years spent as an actor beginning when he was around your age, a shadowy withdrawal into working as an agent with a practice so small and off the beaten path that it must be deliberate. He could have coasted his whole life on effortless roles in Lifetime movies or Hulu original series. Instead he chose obscurity, and a drab little office in half of a duplex on a run-down street in Elysian Park, and Brandon the receptionist as his sole employee, and clients who are nobodies like you.

Aegon slurps broth from his spoon, stalling. He’s caught off-guard; you can tell by the way deep troubled grooves appear in his brow. That’s part of being a good actor. You have to learn how to read people until you can feel their emotions as if they are your own, until you can mimic them so convincingly your own pulse quickens or your stomach drops. “Um…well I think I got sick of how superficial it was, all the obsessing over height and weight and wrinkles and who’s in and who’s out, the unwinnable contest of who can be perfect the longest. We’re supposed to play real people but we’re not supposed to be real people, you know? And there are just a lot of things about this place that can leave people jaded and fucked up in all sorts of ways we weren’t before. And I don’t want that to happen to you, so I’ll try to make it as good of an experience as possible.” He smiles. It seems genuine. “I don’t really miss it. I’m a better agent than I was an actor.”

“And you’re not even that good of an agent.”

He laughs and shakes his head, just watching you, just trying to figure you out. He looks down at his Chinese zodiac calendar. “What are you?”

“I’m a dragon.”

Aegon reads aloud: “You are eccentric and your life complex. You have a very passionate nature and abundant health. I could see that. Kinda sounds like you.”

“Which animal is yours, the horse?”

“Yeah, 1990.”

You study his description. “Popular and attractive to the opposite sex. You are often ostentatious and impatient. You need people. I don’t think you’re very ostentatious.”

“But no qualms with the other parts?”

“No, the rest seems accurate.”

He stares at you, those overcast blue eyes curious, searching, maybe a little puzzled. When the waitress brings out the entrees, Aegon spears a piece of his boneless spare ribs with his clean fork and offers it to you. “Here, you want to try this?”

You really shouldn’t, but you make an exception. You take his fork and eat: saccharine blood red sauce, glistening gelatinous fat. It’s one of the most delicious bites of food you’ve ever tasted…and then it’s gone. You warn Aegon as you return his fork: “You’re going to die early.”

“I know,” he says, watching the oscars scowl at him through the glass.

You walk back through Chinatown together, Aegon swinging around his plastic bag with his Honeycrisp apple for Brandon, you listening as he tells you what each shop is known for and points out a temple dedicated to the goddess of the ocean. Now the sky is clear and the sun is high, and hot, and blinding when you aren’t under the shade of awnings or palm trees.

You say cheerfully once you have returned in Elysian Park and you can see Aegon’s office, a blue neon sign that reads Targ Talent Agency pulsing in the window: “So do you have any fun plans for Father’s Day?”

“Nope. My dad’s dead.”

“Oh my God.” You’re so mortified you almost trip over your own feet, your TOMS wedges stumbling over the pavement. Aegon instinctively reaches out to steady you, and you grasp his hand gratefully. “I am so sorry.”

“It’s fine. It happened when I was in college so I’m used to it.”

“He must have been young.” Forties? Fifties?

“Yeah,” Aegon says shortly, letting go of you. “Are you doing anything special?”

“My parents are paying to fly me back to Minnesota. But I won’t be gone long, I promise. It’s just a few days.”

Aegon smirks roguishly. “Going to make time to see that ex-boyfriend while you’re there?”

You smile, a little bashful, a little mischievous. “I might.”

He chuckles. “Enjoy. Don’t get pregnant and ruin all your hopes and dreams.”

“Oh no, don’t worry, I can’t take the pill because it made me suicidally depressed but we use condoms.”

Aegon is bewildered, his jaw hanging open. “You don’t overshare like this in auditions, do you?”

“No, sorry, I thought you were asking me a question.”

“It wasn’t a question, it was a comment.”

“Oh. I thought it was a question.”

He shakes his head and stops at the 2003 Honda Accord—painted in a shade called Desert Mist Metallic—parked curbside, a gift from your parents when you went away to college only to return in disgrace with a Theater Arts degree that they lie to their friends about. From one of the nearby houses, you can hear Take It Easy by The Eagles drifting out into the sun-drenched street. “Is this your ride?”

“Yup! This is me.”

“Well I’m going to make some calls and see what I can get you, and I’ll let you know either way in a few days how it’s going. Brandon has your phone number and headshots…and I can find your acting reels on YouTube if I need them…yeah, I think that’s everything. Okay?”

“Okay. I hope you get the star.”

Again, you have confused him. “What?”

“In the Mario game. The one on the eel’s tail.”

Aegon grins and slips black aviator sunglasses out of a pocket inside his jacket and says as he puts them on, maybe to the sky, maybe to you: “You are so bright, sunshine.” Then he climbs the steps to the front door of his small, inauspicious office.

“Aegon?” you call after him. At the top of the concrete steps, he pauses and turns around. Here in the shadowless midday light, you are overwhelmed with gratitude. It’s difficult to speak without your voice breaking. “Thank you for giving me a chance.”

“Don’t thank me. This place is a curse.”

He opens the door and disappears inside.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Guess who has an agent?!” you announce ecstatically as you burst into the apartment. Baela and Jace are in the living room on the velvet orange couch, eating sushi and watching True Blood on the 40-inch flatscreen television that Baela’s parents bought for her.

“Congratulations!” Baela says from the couch. “Finally! I’m so happy for you!”

“Yeah, that’s awesome,” Jace agrees as he shovels pieces of a shrimp tempura roll into his mouth. Jace is Baela’s boyfriend of six months. He’s allegedly getting a PhD in Musicology at UCLA, but he only goes to class one or two days a week and does exceptionally little other than that. Once in a while you’ll overhear him pounding on the Yamaha keyboard he keeps in Baela’s room, cursing to himself and kicking the wall in frustration.

“Is he nice?” Baela asks, meaning your new agent.

“I think so,” you say thoughtfully. You aren’t sure that nice is the right word. “He’s kind of weird and grumpy. But I really like him.”

“Is he old?”

“Not at all. Aegon’s thirty-five.”

“Ew,” Baela says. “Old.”

“I really like him,” you say again, smiling to yourself without realizing you’re doing it.

Baela groans. “Please don’t be one of those girls who fucks their agent.”

“No, it’s not like that. He’s engaged to someone super gorgeous. They’re getting married in September.”

“Huh,” Baela replies, losing interest now. Her eyes have drifted back to the tv. She hasn’t landed a role as a film lead or a series regular yet, but she’s been working steadily since she got to L.A. and her star is ever-rising. Tomorrow she is auditioning for Yorgos Lanthimos’s new movie. She’s not allowed to tell you anything about the script. It’s a secret; it’s an honor.

You go to the kitchen for a drink and stop when your gaze catches on the calendar affixed to the stainless steel refrigerator with plastic magnets shaped like pineapples. Friday, June 20th is circled with red ink; in the box below, you have scrawled the necessary details.

Baela twists around on the couch and sees you. Her voice is gentle; she knows you’re nervous. “When’s your appointment?”

“Next week.”

“You’re really getting sliced up?” Jace says.

You smirk at him, less than appreciative. “It’s just a consultation. But yeah, probably.”

“You scared?” Jace asks, gnawing on a pod of edamame.

Obviously. You sigh. “I think it has to happen if I want to land roles.”

“I haven’t gotten any plastic surgery yet,” Baela says, not meaning to sound smug.

You murmur as you ponder the time and address written in red on the calendar: “Well nobody is saying you need to.” You’ve had no less than ten people suggest implants outright, and far more have implied it. Aegon is the only person you can think of who dismissed the idea summarily…and that includes your parents. Your father has been emailing you doctor recommendations. He must think it’s a good investment for your post-California-detour life.

“It will give you more confidence,” Baela says as she turns back to the tv. “A little extra something to take you to the next level.”

You stare at her forlornly from the kitchen. You are suddenly very aware that you miss being outside: the sun, the heat, the swaying palm trees, the radiant kinetic potential. “That’s part of the problem? My confidence?”

She shrugs, using her chopsticks to dunk a piece of her tuna roll in a small plastic container of spicy mayo. She seems oblivious to how deflated you are. “It’s just so hard to stand out here, you know? The phrase ‘California dime’ exists for a reason.”

Jace glances at you over the back of the couch. “I think you look fine.”

“Thanks, Jace.”

“I think you’re easily a California nickel.”

“That’s super sweet, Jace.”

Now Baela is telling him to shut up and they’re bickering back and forth, but you aren’t listening. You take your phone out of your purse and open Instagram. You search for Aegon and find his account; his username is superstargaryen. You follow him. Within a minute, just long enough for you to click through one of his highlight reels—mostly pictures of the beach and trips to In-N-Out Burger—he follows you back. Then you receive a DM.

Aegon has typed: Brando says the apple is good

You giggle to yourself as you tap out a reply. Told you :)

Aegon responds: Or!!! All Minnesotans have no taste

And then he adds a few seconds later: I had to Google that word…Minnesotans…sounds fake

You reply: Please use Google to get me a job instead

He starts typing something, then stops and reacts with a laughing emoji instead. You pull a can of Diet Coke out of the fridge, wondering what he was going to say before he changed his mind.

Late that night, after a nine-hour shift at Cold Stone Creamery, you shower and crawl exhausted into bed wearing an oversized blue L.A. Dodgers t-shirt that you’re swimming in. You turn on your laptop and open YouTube, search for Aegon’s acting reels from ten years ago, fall asleep listening to his voice like the endless ethereal rush when you hold a seashell to your ear.

[plussizeappreciationfics]

Do you still write for Bucky Barnes? I was thinking: they both like each other but they just haven't said anything yet. They always flirt with each other but Sam's tired of Bucky constantly looking like he's about to rip her clothes off so he's just like "Can y'all just make out already, but not near me." And they do. You can decide how it ends after that.

Of course I still write about Bucky/Marvel! Enjoy!

"Oh stop it!" you laughed while shaking your head at Bucky´s theatrics, you had joined him and Sam in the kitchen of the Avenger´s compound, excited that it was the weekend. Sam had greeted you with a tight hug before it was Bucky´s turn. When the winter soldier had opened his arms wide, making the butterflies in your stomach flutter like crazy, you had pretended to not want to hug him.

"So you hate me, huh?" he asked dramatically, pretending to wipe away some non-existent tears before moving his head to the side and leaning against the kitchen counter, making the veins in his arms pop out deliciously. "Mhm, suit yourself. I was just joking" you voiced with another chuckle before getting yourself a bottle of soda and plopping down onto the kitchen table next to Sam.

He grumbled and rolled his eyes when Bucky let out another sigh and joined you at the table, staring at your face and silently admiring your beautiful features.

"What? Do I have something on my face?" you asked in panic, looking over at Sam who even looked more done with you and Bucky. Sam shook his head and locked his phone before letting out a frustrated sigh. His actions confusion you.

"Can the two of you make out already and get together? I am sick and tired of this" he waved his hand between you and the super soldier, "Like just confess your feelings and leave me out of this".

His words made your heart skip a beat as you now stared at Bucky, his blushing cheeks already telling you that he had been just as much exposed as you. Sam stood up and left the kitchen, but not before mumbling "Don`t have sex in the kitchen, please. We make our meals here". Once he was gone, Bucky walked over to you and sat next to you, his eyes desperately searching for yours.

"We feel the same way about each other, huh?" he whispered gently and took your hand his, making your heart swell in your chest. Your whole body was telling you that everything felt right in the moment. "Yes, I am in love with you" you confessed with a shy smile.

"I know that you´ve gone through more than enough stuff and I just want to be your person. If you want me, I am yours James", finally being able to voice those words felt liberating. Bucky fought back tears as he knew that his heart had led to the right person.

"I´m so in love with you, you´re all I can think about. I want to be the person you can love and receive all the support from".

The two of you let out a deep breath, relieved that your dreams had come true. Without another word. you leaned in at the same time and let your lips meet in a gentle kiss. Words couldn`t describe how at peace and happy you felt in that moment. One kiss quickly turned into multiple, Bucky´s arms now wrapped tightly around your thick waist and pulling you closer, making your body yearn for his.

"Let´s go somewhere private" you whispered in between the kisses while gently moaning when your now lover kissed his way up and down your body. In a span of a few seconds, Bucky had you in his arms, carrying you bridal-style into his room.