#wrong question. wrong tone. a mistake. wrong order of activities.

[light-wrath-paradise]

When I start having a panic attack about visiting my family I know it's time to go to sleep immediately no ifs no buts

[zelskzerker]

Selen

What is a PR statement, in terms of connotation? It is a companies statement in attempt to continue to build the relationship between it and the public. A good PR statement should be informative and answer the public's questions, but it should also protect the company and essentially control the narrative. It would not make sense for a company to chronicle into history something worse than rumors can generate....

If "Notification of Contract Termination with Selen Tatsuki" was written with the goal of being informative, it is a success. If it was written with the goal of painting Selen as bad however it is a failure. And if was written with the goal of protecting Nijisanji, it is a major failure. The issues with this PR statement are numerous and catastrophic on multiple levels which make it shocking that whoever wrote it is not fired. And yet, every single mistake here must be analyzed.

Firstly, the assumption of truth. For the sake of sanity, everything stated in this PR statement will be assumed to be true. The reason for this is because nothing in this paints Nijisanji in a good light. It would not make any sense for Nijisanji to lie in order to make itself look worse. Furthermore, theory crafting about lies in attempt to make Nijisanji look better that backfire into making it look bad would make this post longer than your average super smash fanfic.

The first paragraph is simple and important. It states the 2 reasons that Selen is being terminated.

1) Multiple breaches of contract

2) Misleading statement on social media

It is stated that goal of this PR statement is to “provide a detailed explanation of the circumstances and reasons” leading up to this. Assuming that this is the only goal, then this letter makes sense but it is important to keep in mind the author. Nijisanji themselves surely would not want to paint themselves as in the wrong, correct? Especially if they did nothing wrong and see no reason to apologize. In order to properly communicate with the public in this situation Nijisanji must pick it’s words and tone very carefully to provide an explanation while also understanding the audience. If a writer does not understand their audience then every attempt at communication will always fail.

The audience of any graduation letters are fans of the member graduating, in this case Selen. Selen fans obviously support Selen and do not wish to see her bad mouthed or harmed. For this reason, any statement that is meant to describe a negative action of Selen must be phrased so that a fan of Selen does not lash back against the speaker and instead understands that Selen did something wrong. With that, the next section describes “Activity Rules for Affiliated Livers”.

It is a bunch of meaningless bullshit. Literally just says “our company has rules people have to follow and here is our stupid jargon term for it called "ACTIVITY RULES”. Ok thanks, I thought Nijisanji didn’t have any rules, glad that was explained.

Next section “Violations by Selen Tatsuki of the Activity Rules”. Stating that Selen has been breaking the ACTIVITY RULES ever since joining in July 2021 and finally giving an actual rule that Selen broke. That rule is “non-compliance with rights confirmation and authorization flows”. This rule is a huge cultural friction issue. What Nijisanji means by the rule is that the laws of copyright in Japan work in such a way that Vtubers have to get explicit permission from original creators(such as those of videogames or songs) before the Vtuber can actually play or sing them. This flies in the face of the entire system of creating Youtube videos in the West. No one does this because the laws in the West do not work in this archaic method. Video game publishers have realized that people playing their game and showing off their game to other people will nearly always result in a positve result for all parties involved as long as the game is good. Thus no one wants to deal with menial paperwork just to get these “permissions”. Everyone in the West things these rules that apply to English-speaking Vtubers that are part of Japanese companies are stupid and detestable because they just hurt everyone for nothing. For this reason, Nijisanji should known that while they have to follow the law, the fans of this English-speaking Vtuber hate this law and will react very negatively to any attempt to use it to paint Selen as bad. Any attempt to paint Selen in a negative light with these will fail. However this section does just that. It states that Selen has broken these rules many times in order to provide the explanation that Selen is a rule breaker. This is important setup because it is ascribing character to Selen in order to justify the breakup.

Nijisanji ultimately performs a bunch of glancing blows in this section without providing many details, so I will follow suit and not describe details. It is just important to know that the PR statement has not done anything wrong yet and would have been fine if it simply followed the direction of saying that Selen had not gotten perms one too many times and had to be fired over it. Alas, it is not so under the next section.

“Events Leading to Suspension of Selen Tatsuki’s Activities” is where details begin. The infamous “Cup of Coffee” video created by Selen Tatsuki is described as the last straw that forced Selen to be terminated. Management saw the music video’s components on December 24th (JST). On the 25th Nijisanji stated that “some elements still lacked authorization” and “permission needed to be obtained from relevant parties”. On the 26th Selen posted the video, regardless of what Nijisanji wanted. At face value this series of events follows with the PR statement’s description of Selen’s character and looks bad for her.

Or does it?

Nijisanji takes issue with the “Cup of Coffee” video due to permissions. Which ones? The song itself was created by lilypichu and stated in a tweet that it is free for anyone to do whatever they want to it. The vocal of the song are by Selen herself. The art was all commissioned by Selen herself. The only way permissions could not be confirmed is if Nijisanji wanted to manually contact and get permission from every single affiliated party themselves or if appearances of other Nijisanji EN members themselves require permissions from those members. If the latter is true, then it is absolutely insane that the company somehow treats itself like an outside party, requiring permissions for every single mention of a different member. If it is the primer then Nijisanji once again is showing the limits of the archaic permissions based system. Either answer is unsatisfying to the reader, but the truly infuriating part is the lack of this crucial detail.

Ultimately, this is only half a story. It describes rule and Selens actions to break those rules. It does not describe the mens rea. Why does Selen break the rules? The simplest reason is that she is just like the fans, a hater of the perms system. Unfortunately this does make her incompatible with Nijisanji and rationalizes a termination HOWEVER it is important to note that it does not mean that Selen is a bad person. Breaking the rules does NOT make someone bad when those rules are seen as poor rules in the eyes of the court of public opinion. It is VITALLY important that nothing has been stated to make Selen look bad to a Selen fan.

Following the video’s removal Selen stated on Twitter that “management has taken down the video” without the context of “because of permissions”. Nijisanji sees this as a misleading statement due to that exclusion, however they have no reason to suffer consequences. They have no reason to let Selen’s statements to reupload the video, regardless of what Nijisanji says, to fester and cause conflict. Nijisanji is the company that manages Selen and thus can post on their own account with an addendum to Selen’s statement or just have Selen make the addendum herself. Nijisanji states these two options themselves.

However Nijisanji decided to do nothing instead. After failed reconcilliation with Selen over the take down of the video, Nijisanji did NOT make their own public statement about it. This is a truly baffling occurance. Nijisanji has their own platform, as a matter of fact this very PR statement was posted on it! Why could they not post themselves? Why did Selen have to do it? It is important to note that the statement begins to use the language “being mindful of Selen’s mental and physical health” and that they were in talks with her “emergency contact” because at this point Selen had been hospitalized due to attempts to take her own life.

Nijisanji wanted her to provide comment on this while she was in the hospital. Nijisanji has full access to Selen’s twitter and youtube, demonstrated by the fact that they blocked her out from them. Why could they not post the text they wanted her to then? No one would be able to tell the difference. Unless they could.

The statement does not include a date for which they blocked Selen from her account. This is clever of them because the Selen Tatsuki account on twitter has had posts in the timeframe of Nijisanji conversing with Selen’s emergency contact. Because of this, the only logical conclusion to be made is that any post on Selen’s account after the 26th may not have been written by her. This brings again the question of why Nijisanji did not just write whatever they want on her twitter and put whatever words they want in her mouth?

The simple answer is they wanted her voice. They wanted Selen to verbally say their words. Through such a trying time in her life, Nijisanji wanted her to read words she obviously did not agree with in order to protect Nijisanji’s image.

This PR statement is starting to look bad for Nijisanji.

“Termination of Affiliation Contract” is the final, terrifying, awful, and truly cataclysmic section. It introduces Selen’s legal counsel to the story and Nijisanji’s demands. 1) Selen informs the public about about the why the video was taken down (a stupid demand that would be truly painful as described previously) and 2) a request for Selen to pretty please follow the ACTIVITY RULES.

The next paragraph is dire and can only be read in its entirety, verbatim.

Thus the reason for this PR statement’s long explanation of recent events becomes clear with one extra detail. This PR statement is the first public and official disclosure of almost all of these details. It was posted on February 5th, 2024 at 7:57 pm (JST). The most recent public statement from Selen about any of it occurred on February 5th, 2024 at 8:00 pm (JST).

This means that all of Selen’s claims were first posted by Nijisanji. Nijisanji pre-empted her response and thusly has initial control of the narrative. They were free to not state any of Selen’s claims. Considering that Selen’s threat was to post the claims in the first place WHY WOULD NIJISANJI POST THEM FIRST?

Because they think they can overcome them. Nijisanji wanted to post the claims in their own language and refute them before Selen could make the company look however bad she wanted. Nijisanji wanted to remove the power of the claims. After all, claims are just that: assertions to fact and not fact itself. They can only become fact if Nijisanji confirmed that they were true. Being “harassed by affiliated Livers” is truly a harsh claim. It can ruin a Nijisanji member’s reputation to the public. Even if not stated who in particular, it paints a nasty seed of doubt in the viewers mind. Anyone they watch could have been a part of the harassment that led to a suicide attempt. Thankfully for Nijisanji, Selen’s response did not mention that the harassment came from other livers, just “from within.” Management from a company is usually formed out of leaders and it is any leader’s duty to watch out for those below them and truly excellent leaders will even take the brunt of the blow for one of their subordinate’s mishaps. So all Nijisanji needs to do is refute this claim. To say that she was not harassed.

OH NO WHY WOULD THEY SAY THIS THIS IS A CRITICAL FAIL IN EVERY CHECK WHY WOULD THEY DO THIS.

“have not engaged in unjust practices”. So Nijisanji and its front-facing VTubers have engaged in the “practices”? The practices of causing harassment so intense that someone attempted to harm themselves? And those practices were just?

Nijisanji has performed an irrecoverable mistake. Words can barely describe the damage the eternal damage done to the entire branch by this one statement and yet here those words are, attempting to grasp at the barely fathomable.

1) Nijisanji did not need to say this. Selen did not say she was harassed by Nijisanji EN Vtubers. Nijisanji EN said that. They shot themselves in the face.

2) Nijisanji just threw it’s Vtubers under the bus. Management just confirmed that harassment occurred by it’s own Vtubers. There is a negative percent chance that anything any company can possibly ever say could somehow rationalize harassment to the point of self harm.

2.5) They did not give specific Vtuber names. Now every single Nijisanji EN Vtuber could have potentially done it. This is a witch hunt. A witch hunt has been incited against Nijisanji EN Vtubers by Nijisanji EN management.

3) Selen attempted to damage Nijisanji EN’s image? SELEN ATTEMPTED DO DAMAGE NIJISANJI EN’S IMAGE?!?!?!?!?! THIS ENTIRE PARAGRAPH DID MORE DAMAGE TO THE ENTIRE BRANCH THAN ANYTHING SELEN EVER COULD HAVE SAID AND IT WAS ENTIRELY SIDESTEPPABLE BY THE COMPANY. SILENCE WAS OPTION. THEY DID NOT TAKE IT

This puts Nijisanji EN Vtubers in an unwinnable situation of the following options

1) Stay silent and just let this evil act come to light with no response and possibly be harassed by fans yourself for POTENTIALLY having harassed Selen.

2) Come to the defense of your truly evil boss. Bootlick so hard in hopes that your wont get run over by the next bus management drives over the entire branch.

3) Come out against your vile company. Essentially destroy your job and get terminated.

All the while there is an actual witch in existence that management themselves confirmed.

Nijisanji has failed the fans for posting this.

Nijisanji has failed it’s own EN Vtubers by substantiating rumors that did not need to be confirmed.

And most importantly, Nijisanji has failed Selen, by attempting to slander her and justify her harassment.

It is reprehensible that two years after making a joint statement with Hololive about standing up against the kind of harassment that led to one of their own members attempting to take their own life and ultimately graduating from Hololive would now turn around and perform that very own harassment against their own.

Unforgiveable. For shame.

[sparksqfly]

─ So much for summer love𓆝 part 2

synopsis: modern au - you meet ellie during a school activity and start getting involved in an intense relationship. warnings! bad words, men being bothersome, pet names? (princess, good girl etc), author's note: i wanted to post this a long time ago, but my computer broke down. it was really stressful because i have all my university entrance papers and all my fanfics here, so that was terrifying. but it's all sorted now! this is the second part of the story, and i think there's only one more part left to publish unless you want me to do an epilogue or something. again, english is not my first language, so i apologize for any mistakes i may have made. thank you for reading <3 about the story: joel is referred to as ellie's father. references to taylor swift and her music, the reader is a huge swiftie (just like the writer hehehe), references to jurassic park, ellie plays soccer. the next part is my favorite ;) i'm going to try to publish it before next week.

wc: 4k - part 1 - taglist: @elliesinterlude @libr4sonsa

you thought everyone would be pushing each other to be the first ones out once the order was given, but surprisingly, they were all in line in front of several people who didn't seem like teachers. you focused your attention on them and observed the bags they were distributing to the students in line, it seemed to be a requirement to start the race. ellie squeezed your hand before letting go, which surprised you. had you done something wrong? had you made her uncomfortable? before you could continue torturing your mind with questions, a teacher, whom you didn't know, so you assumed he was from another school, handed both of you a paper bag. "what our kind guides are giving you is your lunch, you can eat it at any time, but remember that you won't be given another one," mr. emery spoke again, he seemed very talkative today.

after a few minutes of talking, one of the guides who had given them the paper bags with their lunch passed behind ellie and gently squeezed her shoulder with his hand before moving away. that's when you connected the dots and realized that the man was the same one who had helped you and write your number on your hand, meaning he was ellie's father. you suppressed a smile, thinking that ellie had possibly become shy in front of her father, which is why she had let go. you sought her gaze and saw her kneeling on the ground, storing her lunch bag in her large backpack. "do you want me to keep yours, doll?" you smiled and crouched down to her level to hand her your bag more comfortably, taking the opportunity to briefly rest your hand on ellie's forearm, tracing her tattoo with the tips of your fingers. "thank you, darling," you said innocently, and smiled to yourself as you saw that now it was you who had made her blush, and you stood up victorious.

obviously, the victory didn't last long when you were pushed by what seemed like thousands of teenagers running wild to escape into the forest. once you regained stability, you looked at ellie, who seemed just as bewildered as you. she stood up, slinging the backpack over her shoulder, and grabbed your hand again. "looks like we're the last ones," she chuckled, puzzled, as she looked around. indeed, the designated area for searching those damn symbols on the trees was bigger than you had thought. so big that from the starting point of the race, there was no sign of a purple ribbon marking a boundary. "intimidating," you said, and you intertwined your fingers with ellie's even tighter. "at least you're with me, right?" ellie chuckled softly, and you looked at her with a silly grin on your face. "i'll skip that eccentric tone, williams," you squinted your eyes, gazing at her intently. she brought your fingers to her lips and planted a subtle kiss on them as she began walking into the forest with you.

you walked hand in hand for a while. you thought you would encounter several groups of noisy teenagers, but the truth was, you hadn't come across anyone along the way. "this may sound strange, but forests make me a little uncomfortable. i feel like i'm in some kind of glass jar where anyone can put anything inside," you thought she would give you a weird look, but surprisingly, she nodded her head. "it's like trying to imagine all," she said. as strange as it sounded, both of you seemed to feel even more at ease with each other after that moment of honesty. ellie mustered the courage to continue talking about the forest. she mentioned that since she was little, her father used to take her to forests. he believed in the importance of connecting with old-school methods, something you had also noticed. ellie had not taken out her phone at any point, not even to check the time. out of curiosity, you asked her if she had one, to which she responded, "of course I do. i like dinosaurs, but i don't want to be one." before she could even finish, you turned around, looking at her completely, "you like dinosaurs?!" she smiled and nodded at you. "a few kilometers from my house, when i was still a child, there was a dinosaur exhibition where they set up a display for children, and paleontologists came to give talks. i remember begging joel, my dad, to take me there," you widened your eyes as she spoke. "is it that natural science museum with a giant dna at the entrance?" you asked excitedly as you pulled out your phone. ellie thought for a few seconds before answering, "yeah..."

completely excited, you took out your phone from your bag and showed her a photo that your mother had sent you a few weeks ago, from that same exhibition where you were at 7 years old, posing with an older man who you remembered introduced himself as a famous paleontologist who had discovered several key fossil pieces for history. ellie's eyes widened, and she touched your hand to bring your phone closer to her face with a look of astonishment. "i also have a photo with that man! i remember joel thought he was dressed up as the doctor from the jurassic park movie, so he took a picture of me and my uncle with him," she said with excitement. "my father thought the same!" with a silly grin on your lips, you grabbed her face, holding her cheeks in your hands. "we both were in the same place, at the same time when we were kids, and we ended up being race partners 10 years later," you paused dramatically before continuing, seeing her smile. "do you believe in destiny?" she smiled even wider, put her hands on your hips, and gently pushed you backward, your back perfectly supported against a tree. "maybe i do now, sugar." you couldn't hide your smile, you were dying to kiss her at that moment. but as always happened with women, you were too cowardly. so you just kept looking into her beautiful eyes and lowered your hands to her neck, playing with the line of her jaw and the edge of her shirt.

you two stayed like that for what felt like an eternity, ellie continued to gaze at you with her green eyes while softly stroking your waist with her right thumb. a thousand thoughts raced through your mind all at once. you imagined countless scenarios where your lips met and stayed that way for hours, scenarios where you walked together hand in hand through your neighborhood, both sipping coffee at your favorite café, and spending evenings lying in your house talking for hours.

both of you let go when you heard the voices of approaching teenagers nearby. as you moved away from the tree, you noticed a paper hanging from a branch just above ellie's head. it was a caricature-like drawing of a house, and you quickly reached for your phone, only to realize that ellie had taken it and kept it in her back pocket to tease you. when she saw what had caught your attention, she handed it back to you, and you took a few steps back to capture a photo. zooming in, you perfectly captured the paper with the drawn symbol and the top of your companion's head. in the photo, only her auburn hair and curious eyes were visible. you showed her the photo, and you noticed a blush rising on her cheeks. "to me, that's not a symbol, it's a drawing," ellie said, taking your free hand and starting to walk aimlessly.

you walked together for about fifteen minutes, observing the forest. to be honest, you had never ventured far into any forest before, but this one had a special allure and to be honest with yourself, you loved that forest because it was just like the forest on the cover of one of your favorite albums, "folklore" by taylor twift.. the dirt floor was covered in dry leaves, falling due to the autumn season, and the trees were slender but towering. it would be unfair to say that you didn't come across any other drawings, as both of you were lost in each other, talking incessantly. ellie spotted another page, this time secured to a tree with a nail, and while she listened to you talk about a girl who almost became your girlfriend, she discreetly took out her phone from the small pocket of her backpack. "look, y/n! another paper," she said, pointing in the direction of the tree with her finger. when you turned, she took a photo, but the sound of her camera gave her away. you pretended to furrow your brow upon seeing her, but she smiled and showed you the photo where you appeared with your back turned, hair tied up to cover your face, looking at the paper that had a drawing of what seemed to be a duck, or at least that was what you were able to deduce. ellie turned the phone back to her. "so pretty," she said in a childish voice. you bit your lip, feeling embarrassed, and grabbed her hand to search for the next symbol.

"is this some kind of competition? to see who takes the photos?" ellie asked, this time she changed the position of her hands so that both of you could interlace your fingers. "it would have been fun, but i think it's only fair that both of us appear in the next photo," you stroked the back of her hand. "sounds fair," she said, turning her head to look for the last sheet, but you quickly spotted another one. this last one depicted two people, but as you guided ellie towards the last paper, you realized that none of these three drawings seemed to be related to each other, although you weren't going to take the school staff's attempts at organization too seriously. it had always been better to ignore their efforts.

you let go of ellie's hand and took out your phone to use the front camera. you looked at your reflection on the screen, you looked good. the little makeup you had applied hadn't smudged, and you still appeared well-groomed. you raised the arm holding the phone and gestured with your head for ellie to stand next to you in the photo. once she stood beside you, bending down a little to match your height, you pressed the capture button and told ellie that you would take another one. she nodded, and in the instant you took the photo, she quickly grabbed your chin, bringing her lips to yours. you felt weak, and with the few thoughts that remained, you turned off the screen of your phone and tucked it into your bra, eager to hold her by the shoulders and bring her closer to you. ellie clasped her hands behind your waist, embracing you.

you parted your lips and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear when she kissed you again.

you responded just as intensely while caressing her neck, releasing the tension of finally doing what you had planned since you got off that damn bus, which now seemed even more distant.

"hey, williams! how do you always manage to get the girls?" a male voice almost shouted, causing you to separate from ellie, even though that was the last thing you wanted to do at that moment. just to the right of both of you were three boys who were smiling, especially at you. you sighed with annoyance and lowered your head, hiding in ellie's neck. she let go of you and placed a hand on the back of your neck, further hiding you in her embrace. "go fuck yourself, jack. find someone who can put up with you and get the fuck out," ellie told him, but this time her voice was different from what you had heard throughout the afternoon. it was raspier and stronger, indicating that she was on guard.

immediately, the boys left, and you emerged from your refuge in ellie's body. you placed a hand on your face, trying to hide how flushed you were by the situation. ellie grabbed your wrist and moved your hand away from your face, looking at you with puppy eyes. "i'm sorry about that. if you're worried, they won't say anything. they don't even know you. they're just my soccer teammates, and they can be overly invasive. i don't even know why they say that; i haven't been seen with a girl in over a year, and i..." you smiled at how nervous she was and gave her a quick peck on the lips. she smiled, understanding what you meant. "i don't care, els. i love being seen with you. they just caught me by surprise and ruined our first kiss," you feigned distress, only to have ellie embrace you again and kiss you slowly once more.

she gave you another peck, hugging you around the waist, and you brought your hands to her hair, caressing it gently. "we should go show those damn photos before those idiots not only interrupt us again but also beat us to it," you said. she let go of you but placed her hands on your waist to guide you. as you followed ellie towards what you hoped was the exit of that first stage, you glanced at your phone, preparing the photos to show your teachers. clearly, the first one that appeared on your screen was the one of you kissing your companion. you stared at it for a while, admiring how beautiful it looked and how you could see ellie's hand gently pushing you towards her. "i look good in that photo, don't i?" Ellie mentioned with a half-smile, showing a hint of arrogance. "only because of the lovely girl you have by your side," you said as you lightly tapped her shoulder. before you could tap her again, she gently took your hand and brought it to her lips, giving it a brief kiss.

after walking for a while and continuing to talk about nonsensical things, you arrived at the exit point of the line, where two teachers you had never seen before were waiting. you assumed they were from another school. what caught your attention was that this time ellie hadn't let go of your hand when approaching them. "i assume you two have the photos ready to show us. and don't want any hints," you guessed that the teacher wanted to sound cool, but it actually came across as quite eerie. luckily, it was ellie who took charge of talking to him. "of course, we have them, sir" she said as she took out her phone to show the photo she had taken of you earlier with the sheet that had a duck drawn on it. you hurriedly took out your phone to show tllie's teacher the photo of the woman and the duck, being careful not to reveal the photo of the kiss.

"perfect! you've got everything. now you're going to enter the fun stage of this activity," your gaze met ellie's for a second, and she tried to suppress a smile. "with those three pictures you found, you're going to create a story! something short that fits on this sheet," she took out a small sheet of paper and a pencil from her backpack and handed them to you. "you have 5 minutes. you can go over there, where the cut logs are for sitting, and bring us a good one!" ellie smiled uncomfortably and took your hand, leading you to the designated spot.

"so... a story," ellie said, sitting on the ground with her legs crossed and placing the paper on her lap. you remained standing and nodded. "we have a duck, a woman, and a house," you said, looking at the photos on your phone again. "right, we need to keep it brief," she said, tapping the paper with the pencil as if it were a drumstick. "we can say that this woman has a house in the countryside with her girlfriend, and they adopt a duck," you said with a smile. ellie laughed and wrote it down on the paper. "that's us!" "of course! with rufus, obviously," ellie nodded and continued to focus on the paper. "do you mind if we stay here until those 5 minutes are up?" you shook your head and prepared to sit down, but she stopped you and took out a waterproof jacket from her backpack to place it on the ground. she gestured for you to sit on the jacket. "it's a pretty dress," she excused herself.

if you had thought for 5 more seconds, you probably wouldn't have done what you did, but you took the paper and pencil from her lap and sat on her legs. she was surprised for a moment but quickly wrapped her arms around your waist. "i'm glad you liked it. i wore it to impress my partner," you said, placing a hand on her arm and caressing it. you were surprised when she rested her head on your back and relaxed. that's how you stayed for a few minutes until you heard the same teacher approaching again. you quickly stood up from her lap and handed him the folded sheet with the mini-story.

he looked at you a bit strangely, possibly because he had seen you quickly get up from ellie's lap and adjust your dress. you were thankful that he didn't say anything and simply tucked the paper into his pocket. amidst small laughs, ellie and you followed him back to the starting point of the second stage, your hand lightly and slowly brushing against ellie's. you saw her suppress a smile as if the touch of your two hands tickled her. "okay, ladies," ellie's teacher said, looking at both of them sternly. "we're going to give you a list of items that you'll have to find in this part of the forest. you can use your cell phones or bring those things with you. when you finish this stage, you can take a few minutes to have lunch and then resume the activities." mr. lee untied the purple ribbon that was tied to two trees to let them pass. ellie thanked him and nodded at you to go first, so you waited for her before continuing.

you were grateful that the moment you were out of the teachers' sight, she took your hand and intertwined her fingers with yours. even though you had only known her for a few hours, it felt wrong to walk through the forest without holding hands. "did you read what's on the list?" you asked, looking at her profile. She was focused on the sheet and nodded her head. "an object made by humans, something that shines, something that could be used in a survival situation, and something that reminds them of their school," ellie read and then looked at you. you returned a confused look and tiptoed to give her a kiss on the cheek. "i hope you have good eyesight, babe," you said, letting her guide you. she laughed and squeezed your hand, tucking the list into her pants pocket.

well... 20 minutes had passed, and they only had "an object that reminds them of school" left. you hadn't been very helpful in finding the previous items; ellie had found everything. except for "something shiny." thanks to your keen eye for shiny things, you had found a small necklace in the roots of a tree. ellie wiped the little pendant on her jeans to keep your dress from getting dirty, and they continued their search. ellie had found a slightly dented can that would work, and under a small rock, a medium-sized piece of rope, a bit covered in dirt, but she excused it, saying it would do. "and in a survival situation, why would you use a dirty rope?" you asked, raising an eyebrow. "it can be useful for setting up a camp, for a bonfire, and even for making weapons," she proudly replied. she had told you something about how her father considered it important to teach her survival skills and basic things to do in an emergency. "i would use it for something different," you said, gently nudging her with your shoulder. she looked at you, amazed by your sudden desire to make risqué jokes. "i'll let that one slide, princess. i don't want what that joke could imply to come true in this forest," ellie said. you blushed violently while laughing with your face hidden in her arm. She lowered her head to give you a kiss on the hair. 

they grabbed a small can that was somewhat dirty and dented but would still serve for what they needed, which for the moment was to find "something that reminds them of school."

"if what they wanted was to nourish my academic spirit with that rule, all they're achieving is making me want to stay and live in this forest and never go back to that damn school again," ellie muttered, letting herself fall onto a cut log and hiding her face in her hands, visibly exhausted. she looked up, gazing at the trees, but none of the competing pairs seemed to have found that object yet, or at least that's what they both believed. they had crossed paths with many people, and they all asked them the same question, "do you have any idea of what can be used as the object that represents the school?" both of them answered no, and the cycle repeated itself.

you knelt on the ground in front of ellie, resting your head on her lap as you closed your eyes for a moment, deep in thought. she took the opportunity to gently caress your hair, being careful not to mess it up. you smiled, feeling her hands glide over your scalp and touch the bun that held a portion of your hair back. "so pretty," ellie whispered to herself, and you finally lifted your head to look at her. she smiled at you, and with one hand, she softly caressed your jaw, making you feel like you could fall asleep with your head resting on her. "are you tired, princess?" ellie asked, raising your head slightly so you could meet her gaze. "actually, yes. my legs are a bit sore, and i'm hungry," you replied. she smiled at you and lifted you up with her. "let's finish this shit quickly so we can rest and eat," she said. you nodded and let ellie take your hand to guide you.

"okay, listen to me for a moment," ellie said after pausing with wide-open eyes and a lost look in her gaze. she continued, turning on her heels and looking at you with a smile. "you scare me," you said, seeing her so happy. "we cut a piece of the ribbon they use for boundaries," ellie almost shouted, her expression as if she had solved some incredibly complicated equation, and in that moment, at least, it felt like it. you sighed, "oh, come on, it's a great idea, or at least the only one we have," ellie said the last sentence, putting on her best puppy eyes, and you looked at her again. "look, it's a terrible and irresponsible idea. we could cause an accident or make others lose. we could even face some penalties," you said, explaining with your hands the consequences it could lead to. "but..." ellie interrupted you, "but I'm really hungry. go grab that damn ribbon," you said with exasperation. ellie laughed, possibly because she hadn't heard you curse until now. you gave her a little push to hurry her up.

obviously, the last thing you expected was for her to approach the ribbon and take out a knife from her pocket as if it were nothing. you watched as she tore the small piece of fabric disproportionately, leaving it frayed on both ends. since it was a long ribbon, ellie was still able to tie the two ends where she had cut it, recreating the boundary. "do you always carry knives on casual school outings?" you asked her as you delicately took the ribbon from her hands. "only when I have a damsel in distress as a companion," she said, smiling slyly. arrogant bitch, you really adored her.

[galaxyinstitute-blog]

Top Customer Service Skills Every Waitstaff Should Master: Training Insights

In the hospitality sector, customer service is at the heart of every business. Whether you’re working in a fine dining restaurant, a bustling café, or a casual eatery, the way waitstaff interact with customers can make or break the dining experience. For those looking to build a successful career in hospitality, mastering the essential customer service skills is a must. In this post, we’ll cover the key skills every waitstaff should master, providing you with valuable insights into how proper waitstaff training can set you on the path to success.

Why Customer Service Matters in the Hospitality Industry

The hospitality industry revolves around providing an unforgettable experience for guests. Great customer service isn’t just about delivering food and drinks—it’s about creating an atmosphere where customers feel welcomed, valued, and satisfied. For waitstaff, this means more than simply taking orders and delivering food. It requires a deep understanding of the customer's needs, effective communication, and the ability to anticipate those needs before they arise.

When you hone your customer service skills, you help build customer loyalty, increase tips, and boost the restaurant’s reputation. This is why waitstaff training is so crucial to building a successful career in the hospitality sector.

Essential Customer Service Skills Every Waitstaff Should Master

1. Effective Communication

Clear and efficient communication is the backbone of great customer service. Waitstaff must be able to communicate well with both customers and kitchen staff to ensure smooth service. Whether it’s taking an order, explaining the menu, or addressing a complaint, communication plays a central role.

When interacting with customers, always maintain a friendly and professional tone. Be attentive and actively listen to their needs. If a customer has specific dietary requirements, be sure to communicate those clearly to the kitchen. Additionally, keep the kitchen staff informed of any special requests to prevent any issues from arising.

2. Active Listening

Listening is an often-overlooked skill in the hospitality industry, but it’s essential. Active listening allows waitstaff to fully understand the needs of customers, which can help to prevent misunderstandings and ensure that customers feel valued.

Active listening involves paying attention, not interrupting, and asking clarifying questions when needed. By mastering this skill, you can better anticipate customer needs and ensure their dining experience exceeds expectations. For example, if a customer asks for a modification to a dish, it’s crucial to listen carefully and communicate that request clearly to the kitchen.

3. Problem Solving and Conflict Resolution

In a busy restaurant, things can sometimes go wrong. Orders may be incorrect, food may take longer than expected, or a customer might have an issue with their meal. How you handle these situations can define the customer’s experience and determine whether they’ll return in the future.

Waitstaff should be trained in how to approach and resolve problems calmly and efficiently. Apologize for any mistakes, offer a solution, and ensure the customer is satisfied. Whether it’s offering a complimentary drink or quickly correcting an error, problem-solving and conflict resolution are essential skills to master.

4. Attention to Detail

Small details can make a big difference in customer satisfaction. Waitstaff must be able to notice and respond to subtle cues, such as whether a customer has finished their drink or if they need more condiments. Being observant and proactive in addressing these needs shows customers that you care about their experience.

Attention to detail also means ensuring that orders are taken correctly, food is served as requested, and the dining area remains clean and comfortable. Remember, a well-maintained table and prompt service can greatly enhance the overall experience.

5. Time Management and Multitasking

Waitstaff are often required to juggle multiple tasks at once, especially during busy shifts. Effective time management and the ability to multitask are crucial skills for success. You’ll need to handle customer orders, deliver food, clear tables, and stay organized—all while maintaining a positive attitude.

Learning how to prioritize tasks and work efficiently will not only improve the customer experience but also reduce stress and increase job satisfaction. During waitstaff training, time management skills are often emphasized to help you manage peak hours and ensure smooth service.

6. Product Knowledge

A key element of excellent customer service is being able to recommend menu items, explain ingredients, and answer any questions customers might have about the food or drinks. Waitstaff should have a thorough understanding of the menu, including any special dietary options, ingredients, and preparation methods.

The more you know about the dishes on the menu, the more confident you’ll be in making recommendations, answering questions, and handling any customer concerns. Whether it’s explaining a café latte vs cappuccino or suggesting a perfect wine pairing, your knowledge will elevate the customer’s dining experience.

7. Empathy and Emotional Intelligence

Understanding and responding to customers’ emotions is a vital skill for waitstaff. Empathy and emotional intelligence help you build rapport with customers and create a more personalized experience. If a customer seems frustrated or upset, showing empathy and taking the time to listen can go a long way in diffusing tense situations.

Customers appreciate when waitstaff can read the room and adapt their approach accordingly. Whether it’s noticing when a customer is in a hurry or when they are celebrating a special occasion, emotional intelligence allows you to respond in a way that suits the situation.

8. Positivity and Professionalism

A positive attitude and professional demeanor are key to making a good impression. Customers are more likely to have a positive experience when they’re greeted with a friendly smile and polite service. A positive attitude not only makes the customer feel welcome but also helps create a pleasant work environment for your colleagues.

Professionalism is also about dressing appropriately, maintaining good hygiene, and respecting the company’s policies. Ensuring that you’re presentable and well-mannered can enhance the customer’s overall impression of the restaurant.

Why Waitstaff Training is Essential for Career Growth

Mastering these customer service skills isn’t something you can do overnight. It takes time, practice, and continuous learning. That’s where waitstaff training comes in. By enrolling in a comprehensive training program, you’ll be able to develop and refine these essential skills in a real-world setting.

Training provides the foundation you need to succeed in the hospitality sector. It’s not just about knowing how to take orders; it’s about learning how to build rapport with customers, handle difficult situations, and provide a memorable experience that encourages return business.

Whether you’re training to become a professional barista or a skilled server, gaining practical experience is essential. Skills and responsibilities for a barista, for example, may overlap with waitstaff responsibilities in terms of customer service. Both require strong communication, problem-solving, and multitasking skills to thrive in fast-paced environments.

Conclusion: Mastering Customer Service for Success in Hospitality

Great customer service is the cornerstone of any successful hospitality business. For those entering the industry, mastering essential customer service skills is the key to building a long-lasting career. Through comprehensive waitstaff training, aspiring professionals can develop the skills necessary to excel in a competitive industry.

By mastering effective communication, active listening, problem-solving, attention to detail, and more, you’ll be well on your way to providing top-notch service that leaves a lasting impression on customers. So, whether you're working as a pizza chef, burger maker, or barista, the ability to connect with customers and provide exceptional service will set you apart from the rest.

Remember, your journey into the hospitality industry is all about learning, growing, and refining your skills. With the right training and mindset, you can turn your passion for service into a rewarding career!

[lazulirus]

Longing

• Only when the worlds keeps you apart, and you can't read him, not from his face or gestures, Lucifer becomes the softest. 

• Pairing: Lucifer x reader (gender neutral) • Genre:  Fluff • Word Count: 1.8k • Warnings: none • Note: soft Lucifer propaganda

It was one of those nights, when you stayed restless, heart longing so strongly you couldn't get a wink of sleep. No matter how many times you turned, changed positions, threw away and covered yourself with a duvet once more - you couldn't sleep. 

Your fingers brush the phone, laying on the side right next to your pillow. You should put it away by now, but there was a lingering desire to use it just one more time, just for one thing… 

Would he mind? He never complained when he answered your calls, no matter how late they appeared or how often during the week, yet you always felt nervous, after all, neither of you ever admit there was anything between you. The question never appeared and no magic words were exchanged - only actions were proof of a feeling blooming between you two. You hide your face in the duvet, a smile with a burning blush spreads on your face when you remember the last night in Devildom, even the memory makes your heart pound the same. The same desire and anticipation, the same burning passion and love - but did Lucifer feel the same? Was he remembering it as a special night or a mistake? Or maybe for him it was only a single occurrence or activity not for love and only for physical desires… 

"Hello."

His voice coated with sleep brings a smile to your face, one way softer. You didn't even notice when you called him, but you couldn't complain - the fact that Lucifer picked up yet again brought warmth to your heart. 

"You know the rest will complain that we're talking out of order."

"It's a rule that you have to take turns when calling me, you never said I can't call you." You get a breathy chuckle in response. "Did I wake you up?" 

"No, don't worry." 

It was the opposite, but Lucifer couldn't bring himself to say it. For him too, it was another restless night. Despite hours of work the bed didn't feel as soft as it used to be, the sleep wasn't welcoming him the second he put his head on the pillow. There was something missing, although it appeared only for a while - his pride forbade Lucifer from naming it. 

So he stayed like that, unable to sleep and too tired to work, fingers dancing on the dim screen of his phone, always too far from one number. Wouldn't he seem desperate, if he called you in such late hours of the night? Lucifer wouldn't allow himself to seem clingy or needy - yet he always answered your calls with the first ringing tone. 

"How was your day today?" 

"Nothing out of the ordinary."

"How many times did you have to punish Mammon?" 

"... Two." He smiles hearing your chuckle. 

"Yeah, sounds like a typical day." 

There was a question, hopelessly clawing its way out of Lucifer's lips. Why? Why did you choose him so often, when Mammon was whining about missing you every day and Satan with Leviathan couldn't wait to share news about their hobbies? There was a simple answer, one that made his chest swell with pride, yet he desperately wanted to hear it from you. Despite that, he didn't ask, he never did in the span of your numerous calls - the idea of him needing you made him scowl. Even though the thought of feeling you again, even the softness of your hand against his, seemed so sweet… 

"Lucifer…" Your voice was obstructed, the duvet hiding your blushing face from non-existing eyes. "I miss you." 

Both of your hearts skip a beat. 

The demon was frozen, eyes wide when his fingers almost tapped the hanging up option. The way he grabs his phone, so desperately, like a starved man catching a fish, a terminally ill man finding a cure, like a lovesick fool refusing to name his feelings. 

The rustle of materials and creak of the mattress made you frown. 

"Did something happen…?" 

"No- no. Don’t worry."

"Did I say something wrong…"

"..." Now sitting up, the phone in both of his hands, Lucifer can't help the anxiety that wells up in his frantic heart. If you only were here, he could play it off with a charming smile and a simple gesture would answer your cute confession. But he had only his words to use and the intimacy of this moment - the silence of the night and stillness of his bedroom, both promising to hide any secret Lucifer decides to show, makes him unable to act normally. Instead of beaming with pride, he craves more - what you say isn't enough. 

"What exactly… do you miss about me?" the softness of his voice makes your eyes widen, you could swear he was whispering to his phone. 

"Well…" you play with your fingers, nervousness slowly but surely consuming you whole - what praise would be satisfying to the avatar of pride? "I miss your smile."

Hearing no answer, you continue. 

"I miss seeing you working… you always wore that cute, concentrated expression. And I miss the way you taught me stuff, like the lessons about the hexes! Now they sometimes haunt my dreams." Your low-quality joke and a bit of forced laughter relax the atmosphere only a little. You relax, shoulders sinking just a bit more when your eyes become hazy, seeing the days gone by and so dearly missed.

"And I found it endearing when you listen to me ramble, and later could repeat what I was talking about even if you seemed focused on something else." Your voice slowly became softer, losing yourself in your admiration. "I miss your headpats, even if they were so rare… and seeing you blush! Remember when we had to work as bunny waiters? You were so adorable back then~ I miss…" Your voice is barely a whisper, so silent Lucifer had to put his phone directly to his burning ear. "... The things we did that night."

The sharp breath Lucifer took was barely audible with how quickly he pulled the phone away. Good, it was good. Excellent even. All his worries melted, just like his heart, with every new praise - you seemed him as something more than a single night adventure. You missed every aspect of him, from his smile to his cuteness he would argue he did not possess. It was out of character for him to worry about such things, to not take pride in his abilities to woo you - but it was something more, you were something more, and you made Lucifer unable to trust his skills. You made him blush to the point his face was on fire, even his ears were unbearably hot - if one of the brothers would see him in such a state, they would assume he came down with a fever. They would notice his ragged breathing and unfocused gaze, the way he smiled so softly it was uncomfortably uncharacteristic and come to the conclusion Lucifer was very sick or at least put under a curse. 

Whatever they would diagnose, Lucifer had to admit the feelings you stirred in him were indeed a sickness and a curse. Surprisingly, he didn't want them to disappear. 

“...I still can’t understand how you find me cute.” His pride speaks before his feelings.

“That’s all you took out of my monologue?!” It almost sounded offended if not for the upbeat tone and short laughter cutting the last word. “And yeah, you are cute, adorable even! Do you know how cute you looked when after we made a pact I hugged you first? And you were-”

“Stop.”

“-sooo disappointed you’re not my favorite. Admit it, Lucifer! You were p o u t i n g, it was cute! And when I gave you a kiss, you were so shocked, even cuter!”

The boost of confidence, when you couldn’t see his annoyed glare and no longer had to fear his punishments, was… annoying, Lucifer had to admit it. But also a bit endearing, maybe because it made you so happy to ramble about his cuteness your voice got a bit raw from laughing at the end. Maybe because it was just between you, a thing you wouldn’t allow to show around other people, a secret of affection - despite the shame of being so exposed, Lucifer couldn’t stop smiling.

"Anyway, um… Lucifer…” You were still breathless, maybe from the laughter, maybe from the fear of the upcoming answer. “Do you… feel the same?" The growing silence felt cold, like a blade drawing near your neck. You risked it all, putting your heart and dignity on the plate, something you knew Lucifer was unable to do - if you wanted your relationship to move forward, at least know what exactly your relationship was, you had to take this challenge. Your gaze was locked on the phone, seeing the seconds passing by, fearing that he might just not answer, and the call would end without another word.

"... I miss you, too." Lucifer, too, was capable of taking risks, even if much smaller than yours. For him, talking to you was a risk, letting you laugh at him was a risk - it all could hurt his pride, make cracks in walls he created. But just like you, he was ready to get hurt if it meant understanding the relationship you had.

You let out your breath, the muffled squeak of happiness followed soon after. 

"What do you miss about me?" You parrot the question and Lucifer could imagine that smug smile of yours. As the phone call was filled with movement of your duvet, the man collected his thoughts - what would please you and not make him seem smitten? 

"I… miss your smile." 

"No copying!" Your laugh was cut with a yawn, the sudden drop of adrenaline worked its magic. You were, so, so worried about his reaction that now, when you got that bit of affection, your body finally relaxed. 

"Then, I miss your cute reactions, the way you puff your cheeks when you get annoyed."

"Mhm, go on."

"...is that not enough?" 

"At- at least try to match my rambling!" 

"... I miss your help with the paperwork and how you made sure I rest properly." He won't admit it, but his sleep schedule got even messier after you left. "The music I play is no longer enough to fill the silence, I got used to your chattering during work. And… I truly miss your smile and… hello?" 

Lucifer falls silent, awaiting your response that never came, instead, only your soft, calm breathing. The man chuckles to himself, hoping that you fell asleep sooner than later during his small monologue. Coming up with more reasons would be embarrassing, and he would rather see your blushing face instead of hearing hummings of approval if he ever dared to repeat such praises again. 

The phone goes back next to his pillow as Lucifer finds a comfortable position to sleep. Maybe it was the curse you put on him or maybe letting out the bottled up feelings made his body relax, whatever it was, he finally could feel the sleepiness taking over. 

"Oh, and…" It would be some time till he dares to utter those words again, but Lucifer wants to imagine your reaction to them, and see you again in his dreams. "I love you."

[worldsover]

New Home ft. Yena

length ✦ 7953

genres ✧ rewriting/expanding @nsfwtwicecatcher’s quickie, Pet; ‘master’; breathplay; kitten!Yena

✦✧✦✧✦✧

Books left unread on a coffee table, post-it notes on the wall reminding family members to get their laundry done, a whiteboard on the fridge with scribbled-up plans for what to eat. Saturday. The whiteboard is empty today. It has been for months. The post-it notes are for people who have long since moved and the books are never going to be read. Your house was messier when you first settled into it. Now home is just the steel and concrete walls, gorgeous architecture yet too much space for one person. Home is a lonely place. Even though you’re a social person, especially with the nature of your work, you haven’t truly been social in a while. It’s only half not your fault with lockdown and whatnot. Unfortunately, there’s no substituting what actually makes a place cozy: remnants of everyday human life.

The next best thing is a pet.

Bright and wide eyes flick up to meet yours when you open your front door. Your pet is below you. Even in the simple action of her glare, her alluring voice rings out in your mind and calls you with the million words of urgent pleading. Only feet below you when you glance down, yet she is far further underneath. Clay isn’t as easy to mold. The girl knows her place so well; she even has the keycode to it. Not that your home is her own. Not yet, at least.

She shudders. Under the appetite of those eyes draw a few tired lines. Living a similar life to hers, you would have more sympathy, that is, if your bulge weren’t straining so much. Or if she hadn’t missed a weekend with her busy schedule.

As she kneels down, the moonlight silhouettes a distinct outline of her fine curves through the grand windows of the foyer.

Maybe if her bare body weren’t so provocative, you would be a little more lenient. Besides, lenience in this situation would probably constitute dragging her to the couch, mounting her plush chest and giving her a little extra time to inhale.

Small hands fold into her lap and she patiently anticipates her orders. Clothes scatter the floor of the entrance hallway. Her soaked underwear to her right, black lace bra to the left, and in between them, an expensive black dress.

She had a picture wearing that dress on her Instagram story—your garden was its colorful backdrop. Good thing you know a thing or two about privacy yourself, keeping your collection of flowers for your own eyes. Otherwise, there would be a lot of questions, articles, and red circles with red arrows making the obvious connection.

The only thing left on her body is a metal chain collar and a smile. It’s a cheeky simper, a proud grin where the corner of her mouth curls up just a pinch more than usual. She understands its effect. Beautiful pale skin, silky smooth legs. Tight toned stomach, large soft breasts and a perfectly round ass. Cherry red lips that belong to you, lips that stain your body when you demand them. Yet more than all of that, her smile incites a fire within you, and she knows your need to wipe it off her face even when she isn’t doing anything wrong or mischievous.

People play games with pets. You don’t keep a pet just to watch it wander. Well, not true, your aquarium in the living room is little more than decoration. However, this pet is active and eager, even when she kneels nearly motionless. Tilt her chin up and gaze intently into her eyes; desire shines through their dark color.

"Name?” you ask.

“Yena.”

“Incorrect. Try again.”

“Sorry.”

Tug on the collar and Yena bites her lip, stifling the escape of a breath that she holds in. “Still wrong.”

She knows the right answer but she knows, more importantly, how you need to punish her mistakes and how she wants you to treat her. A stronger tug urges a response though her voice first comes out as choked noises. “Agh—I have no name. I am nothing but a toy for my master.”

“Good girl,” you say, loosening your grip. Run fingers through her raven locks and firmly grab them. Yena's head jerks back. The grit you add to your voice is unintentional, but it helps. “Who do you belong to?”

“You, master. My only purpose is to serve you and give you pleasure.” Her words are shaky but they're also genuine in their imploring.

“Never forget that.” Caress her chin then her cheek which you give a gentle slap. Her thighs close shut. “Wet already?”

No need to touch Yena to know that she drips from between those full thighs. It’s in her loose eyes that your stare probes deeper into, the firm nubs that her pretty breasts flaunt, and the ragged breaths that she lets slip her mouth. “Yes, master.”

“Do you expect me to do something about that?” you ask, giving her surprisingly ample tits a harsh slap, their recoil enchanting you. When you watched her from the sidelines, only a few of her stage outfits boasted this key quality of hers. Now they're laid bare for you to play with as you please.

“No, master. My pleasure always comes second.”

Yena whimpers, clenches her thighs tighter, and heightens her pitch with every strike until those whimpers are mewls. Spank her tits again repeatedly, each smack louder than the last. “Good answer.”

The sharp pain only wrings forth more wetness from her pussy.

“Good kitten as well. At least you know better than to make a mess of the floor. Whatever.” A final smack on those tits, leaving red the same shape as your hand. “Against the window.”

No hesitation. Yena straightens her posture and retreats so that her head and back are flat against the tall glass wall behind her.

“Take these off,” you demand.

Yena’s hands move with a dancer’s grace to unzip them. Free at last. Her eyes widen as they always do at the erection standing tall, overcasting her face. Your pet wets her lips with her tongue, careful not to touch you lacking your permission since she is a millimeter away and the slightest breeze would cause that tongue to touch your dick.

You know her defiance leads to the same result. You know that cock is going down her throat either way.

You know she just wants to be a good girl.

“You know what to do.”

Her lips press the tip of your dick with a careful urgency, decorating it with its first red smudge of many. A bit of spit, a bit more lipstick, she leaves fresh marks wherever she can. There’s plenty of shaft for her to kiss around, a lot of flesh for her to worship. At times, she’s hungry and rushed but at others, Yena slows down and adores your erection properly.

She’s a lot easier to satisfy than most pets. Even your fish need the right amount of food, the ample space they take up, and sufficient oxygen in the water.

Meanwhile, you don’t have to put in any work for your dick to be so hard for her. If anything, Yena is the one working hard, licking at your length like it’s a treat. Her tongue is insatiable, elongated all the way out of her mouth. Several swipes, but it’s not enough; Yena must taste all of your cock, as though it were her favorite candy. Despite how hard she tries, all she licks away is the red lip stains on your shaft.

By a simple nudge of your hand, you wrest control of your cock away from her and find out just how wanton your kitten is.

Yena is depraved.

When you depreciated her, she was delighted, appreciative.

Now she’s depressed, deprived of her carnal confection depressed on the pillows of her lips.

“Awwh,” Yena whines and pouts. Animalistic instincts tell her to open her mouth wide and stick out her pink tongue again. Slapping your dick on it several times, her eyes signal her readiness—not that you would wait for her.

Your swollen tip parts her delicious plump lips when they tighten around your hard flesh. She does the work, by sucking softly and hollowing her cute puffy cheeks for your width. It feels luscious but you want it to feel better. You don’t intend on delaying any longer, only waiting for her to bob her head for you to get the right angle. Your hands rest on either side of her head while your fingers wrap in her silky hair. Keep her skull pressed against the wall as you bury your shaft down her throat.

“Ahk,” Yena gags. Apparently experience doesn’t help since she always gags, in spite of how many times she swallows your dick. You don��t care because you thrive on the sounds she makes. The slurping and gagging noises when you fuck her pretty mouth against the wall are music to your ears. Her eyes water as you shove your length into her mouth like the toy she is. Though warm and familiar, you never mistake that familiarity with her throat as bland because her tight muscles are the perfect sleeve for your cock to piston into.

“Take it all, kitten,” you growl, her cute nose meeting your stomach with every thrust. Streaks of mascara drip down her face, her makeup beyond repair as she hungrily chokes on every inch of cock.

Your pet is reduced to pure sloppiness, the only thing pure about her. Her lips spew drool like a leaky faucet, turning her breasts into a glistening mess. It's the way Yena looks at you and begs for rougher treatment with a pouty glance before your hips put in overtime to use her face against the wall without any care for her comfort. However, that look inspires an uncharacteristic kindness from you. In a way.

“Touch yourself. You’ve earned a little pleasure.”

“Th-thank you, master,” your pet replies when you exit her ravaged mouth for a moment. Her voice is raspy. Whenever your cock’s tip drags past her lips so that she can utter some more gratitude at the roughness, that voice becomes more raspy and dry, despite all the spit.

She knows not to be greedy, only squeezing her bountiful breasts and pinching her nipples, understanding how much you delight in the view. It’s not like it bothers her one bit. In fact, the contrary, as her previous attempt at avoiding a waterfall between her legs by pressing her thighs only rubs and stimulates them further. That wet spot underneath her thighs might even tarnish the hardwood.

Her moans vibrate around your cock to urge for even more roughness.

Grip the back of her head and fully stuff her throat. Her breath isn’t relevant. Nothing else in the world is other than your pleasure and Yena wouldn’t have it any other way. The apotheosis of your pleasure surfaces to the forefront of your mind in warning flashes.

“That’s enough, kitten,” you say as you release her raw throat. Several strands of spit connect her mouth to your cock’s tip while more spills out of her freshly used lips. The display alone is tempting but it’s too soon in the night to conclude by the front door.

Yena would whine again at the emptiness in her mouth if she weren't too busy gasping for a taste of oxygen.

“Stand up,” you command, barely giving her a chance to recover as her breaths become heavy. Your pet rises from her knees in an instant and you notice how they’re red and sore. “Were you kneeling the whole time?”

“Yes, master.”

“Didn’t you get my texts when I was in the driveway?”

Yena places her hands behind her back and raises her eyebrows, unsure of your point. She could have gotten on her knees when she received the messages, maybe she could have made herself at home with a glass of water and a rest on the couch before she got in place. It’s not as if you were going to check over your security footage for her behavior. Though now you have new ideas for the future. One of those pet feeders with the camera is going on your wishlist.

Instead of cat food, you would dispense that jelly she likes and let her eat it from a steel bowl whenever she’s a good girl.

This would be one of those times she gets a prize. Of course, it’s only natural that she should kneel the whole time. She should wait for her master, even if the floor is hard, even if she has to wait for an hour.

“Such a good pet.” As a reward, grab the leash at the coat rack.

The few recent guests that you had at your house often asked about what breed of dog you had. A better answer than the truth, you told them it was for your fish.

Attach the leash to her collar, yanking on it with little affection. Before you drag Yena around the house, she reverts to her stance on her knees, though now with hands on the ground to crawl. Her tits dangle, her nipples stick out, and she staggers at the force on her neck and the fatigue already settling in her body. She doesn’t need a tour of the house, but it gives you an excuse to recover. While Yena is built like a doll to exhaust all day, you still need to save some stamina for wetter and warmer holes, for more fuckworthy positions.

Naturally, the comfort is solely yours. While you walk through the living room, the kitchen, and the courtyard like a sapient person, Yena is on all fours. While many animals pant to cool their bodies because they don’t have sweat glands, your kitten pants and sweats at the same time anyway, though her tongue droops out not as much for heat but when she breathes heavily to recoup some energy herself. It’s an applaudable endeavour considering you’ve never used her body gently. Plus, she can never know if you might take her right now, possibly bringing her to the elevator and fucking her on the floor.

You’re in no rush to lead her through the halls of your home. The property is vast. Every ceiling is greater than one regular story tall. It would be prudent to map it, then frame that map for future visitors. Realistically, there’s only one such person in near purview.

Pause for a moment in the gallery of paintings before entering one of your many staircases. A shame you’re not fucking her here.

Slight bruises form on her knees when she clambers up your stairs, but she’s happy. You pass your closet, a bespoke room bigger than her bedroom. Most people get to see her clothed, ravishing in many different styles, however, you would rather have the striking sight of an exposed Yena by the foot of your bed.

“How do you want me, master?”

“Just as you are, but on the bed.”

“Yes, master.” Your pet crawls up next to you.

Another seamless silhouette on the bed, again lit through the three clear walls of your cantilevered bedroom by the night sky. Just as familiar of a position as Yena on her knees, she is face down. If she could see anything, she would know that nature stares back at her, your estate surrounded by bamboo and other greenery. That’s not the property that matters to you at all. Her ass bends up, compliant and ready as always.

Pull on the leash and align your cockhead to her inviting opening. One entrance to dip your shaft for a taste, and it doesn’t take long until your dick shoves into her, balls deep, and her dripping wet heat clenches after every harsh thrust. Somehow rougher than you’ve ever been, pound her cunt with a newfound fervor. Yena wants to be your personal fucktoy.

So be it then.

The motion of her hips reciprocates every time you buck yours. Your length scrapes her clean of her juices and it draws each breath out of her without heed to the natural rhythm of her respiration. Yena is lost and heady with desire when she desperately puffs for more air.

However, she isn’t that lost. “Mmph!” comes out muffled as she screams into a big pillow which deadens her volume.

No one’s going to hear her in the bedroom, other than possibly some deer or birds. Unlike in her dance practice room, the broadcasting station’s bathroom, your car bent over on the hood behind the busy cafe, Yena can be as noisy as she wants but instead she holds herself back.

Not having any of that, yank back hard on the leash when she attempts to fall into the mattress. The first two tugs are in time to each deep rut inside, then after the third time, Yena learns, realizing that you want her to be nice and loud. Her back arches perfectly as her fingers clutch into the sheets, yelping high enough that you swear the windows might shatter. It’s understandable—your shaft sunders the small kitten in twain and no amount of her restraint can hold back her voice.

“Ahh! Master’s cock!”

“That’s what I wanna hear.”

While one hand continues its grip on the leash, the other takes turns on her cushy butt. Left cheek. Right cheek. Initially, firm grasps indent the soft flesh with your fingers and each of its nails, though the softness of her ass and thighs beg to be slapped just like her tits. You succumb and emphatically smack that rear. “Aah! Fuck!” Yena shouts.

Punish the profanity that she lets slip with harder spanks. “I said you can scream, not fucking swear.”

Yet more profanities fumble out and your relentless cadence continues, both with your hands and your cock. The cycle of sounds endures as flesh claps against flesh and Yena puts all focus on staying loud without breaking your rules too much, wanting to leave some of her ass unscathed. Unfortunately, it’s too late, her butt tenderly stinging and her voice losing its intensity. You still ram her from behind with the same depth, the same speed, and the same strength, even when all that’s left is feeble whimpers and indolent sways of her waist, much slower than your own.

“C-can I cum, master?”

Don’t even dignify that with a response. Breathe through your nose, your lips pursed at the replete gratification around your cock, wet muscles swathing the whole length at a slightly prolonged stroke. Grab each cheek and splay that ass so that you can find the tight, winking ring above where your dick stays warm. A forceful spit, then your index finger teases at it with circles tempting to penetrate it.

“Please,” Yena sobs, much softer than normal, “May I cum, master?”

“No. You know the rules. Not like you deserve it anyway.” Your pet pays little heed to your fingers testing the entrance that she’s never even toyed with before. While you continue flirting at the dark hole with one hand, the other takes the stringy mess of clear wetness that leaks below her, the same juices that give your cock a veneer visible even in the low light of the nighttime.

Deeper into her pussy you embed yourself, her walls clasping and throbbing out of control. Aware she is finding it harder to hold back with her wild panting and moaning, you ensure she doesn’t get what she wants. Pull out then yank her onto her knees while you stand up on the bed. Yena holds herself back, only displaying disheartenment with her pouting bottom lip that sticks out. She keeps up her enthusiasm anyway. “Are you going to paint my face, master?”

Too involved with chasing your own orgasm to respond, you stroke your cock inches from her gorgeous face. Yena gives it a few careful smooches, unsure exactly when you’re going to cum because more than anything, she doesn’t want to waste your art by having it fly over her head onto your bed or anything else other than her face.

“I’m nothing but your cum dump, master. Please cum all over me, cum on my face, please master!”

Her begging always sets you off. Your last sight is Yena’s precious features, contorting in anticipation. Vision goes white while your legs tremble a tinge. The perfect canvas to use, you cover her in warm creamy streaks, emphasizing on her delicious lips until her entire face stains pale and sticky. Globs slowly drip from her chin while she sucks you clean with unmatched spit and polish. After a final mouthful, your conclusive bursts find their way down her throat to join the pre-cum already imbibed.

“Thank you, master.” Yena grins in satisfaction while she scrapes most of the seed on her face with her fingers.

After some heavy breathing, hers and your own, you both fall back onto the bed in relaxed sitting positions. Turn on the lights in your room with a switch on your bedside. “Name?” you say with a chuckle.

The charade dates all the way back to your first meeting. After a win at a music show that your group managed to sneak over IZ*ONE, you asked her a simple question on stage to her confusion. Back then, you just thought it’d be funny.

Now, it means a little more.

“Yena.”

Even when not in character, you brush your fingers in her hair like it’s a pet’s fur anyway; it gives you as much comfort as a real pet would. “Good girl.”

“That was really fun, oppa.”

“Thanks. You look great, Yena.”

Yena rubs her fingertips and plays with the semen on it before she licks it up. You get up from the bed.

“What, no thanks?” Toss her a towel and she wipes herself down.

“You’re gonna say that while I’m cleaning your cum off my face?”

“I’m saying that because of it, not in spite of it.” Unfasten the leash from her collar. Only now do you strip down to match her nudity, even surpass it; at least she has that collar. Flop onto your mattress and sink into it as every muscle relaxes in the radiance that follows your climax.

Yena cuddles up next to you in your bed after she gets the last sticky drops from her eyes. She really is a little kitten, curling up and fitting snugly in your arms. Only the sounds of waning respiration fill the room while her warmth fills your heart. Doe eyes look up at you until her blinking slows down to halt when her lids close. Eventually you end up similarly restful and in your post-orgasm rest, you become contemplative.

Bright lights. It's all roles. Performances. It’s impossible to completely separate yourself from your image, your persona is an extension of you. Serious yet friendly to the camera, while always charming and suave. You exaggerate your character, you focus on the key points that draw people in. She grasps this as well as you do, having trained for years. No need for a script, no need for acting classes, people always present an outward identity that isn’t a perfect replica.

Dim lights. It's all roles and performances too. Somehow, it’s the same and so very different. Again, this isn’t you, this is an exaggeration of you. You’re not a strict leader to your group but you become an overbearing owner in the night. Instead of reaching for external traits to amplify, you search for the truth inside of yourself. You need someone, a girl to bend to your will. That’s not the sort of thing you could admit out loud, which is why you’re fortunate to find a person so eager for her own truth, to be shaped and toyed with in the dark.

The question of which is truly you is a difficult one. Neither? Both? Questions fall to the wayside when fatigue takes its hold.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

Light or dark, it’s more accurate to say both right now because though only blackness lies past the windows, within them, you forgot to turn off the light. Thus you stir, especially with Yena wriggling in your embrace, inevitable that one of you would wake up in the middle of the night.

“I’ve been thinking,” Yena whispers to break the silence. Her sultry tone entices you, it sparks warmth within you.

Open your eyes. The first thing you notice is how Yena’s nose almost touches the tip of yours, the second is the time, closer to morning than midnight. Finally, your own face looks back on the wall, the light in the room with the darkness outside creating a mirror.

“Ever since the group…” Yena pauses with a finger on her lip. “You know. I’ve been living with my parents.”

“You sure? Feels like you’re living here.”

”I know, I know. In fact, I told them I should find a place closer to all my activities. It was kinda tough explaining it to them but I had to try. Just needed somewhere to call my own. I love them, but it’s not the same as having my own home, umm, a new home. I’ve never had a new home before, or really lived anywhere other than my parents house and with IZ*ONE. I guess it’s not that uncommon at our age, but still, look at you...”

Put a hand on her shoulder to calm her thoughts down. “Hold up, hold up, that’s a lot to take in. Aren’t you gonna move into Yuehua’s dorms?”

“That stuff is still pretty up in the air. But not yet.” Yena puts the finger resting on her cheek on your lips. “Shh. I need somewhere to stay for a few months at least.”

“Good luck with finding a place,” you say with a wry smile.

“Oppa! Lemme convince you. I know this place is really expensive, but do you need all this space? Just to live alone? They’re gonna find out that one of Korea’s biggest love song writers is a complete loner eventually.”

“Yena, this is definitely not closer to your projects. You couldn’t get this kind of forest downtown. Trust me, I looked. Plus, I don’t think it’ll go over too well with the press. I’m an idol too, remember? When they find out I have an idol myself as a live-in fuck kitten, that won’t be fun to deal with.”

“W-well, did I say that’s what I was going to do?”

“Alright then. What is your method to convince me then?”

“Um. A dance?”

You scoff.

The basement has plenty of places for natural light to enter, with skylights from the courtyard letting ample enough in to see, even in the quiet hours of dusk. However, only lit by the moon, it’s much darker than the upper floors of your house. It’s nonetheless sufficient to avoid tripping over things such as iron plates, the squat rack, the rowing machine. You can also see the many mirrors in the open concept lower floor, leading to the entertainment room with its bar and projector, its floor a comfortable grey carpet. It’s more of a man cave than a dungeon, something you wish you considered during renovations as it would be appropriate now.

A metal chain connects to a load supporting column, on the other end, a familiar collar. Yena crawls around in a circle, thankful for the softness of the floor, and she repeats her words like some sort of mantra to acknowledge her bedroom roles. “I’m a nameless pet. I’m a toy only useful for her holes. I love when my master fucks those holes raw, but it doesn’t matter what I like.”

“Very good,” you acknowledge your kitten’s performative talent with an understanding that it comes from an authenticity within her. “You know you left your panties here last time.”

“Yes, master. I thought you’d like them.”

“They’re dirty. I guess that suits you though.” You take the underwear from your pocket. Earlier, you dressed yourself again and retrieved a pair from the stash while Yena followed her instructions to head to the basement. Pink, but more importantly, “Stained with my cum, your juices. Didn’t you wear this on stage too? Panorama, right?”

“Of course, master.” Throw the panties at your pet. It lands on her head, but it falls off, so she bends down and picks it up by the teeth, making a ball in her mouth. “Mmph.”

“Such a well-trained kitten, didn’t even know they played fetch. That’s more for dogs, but I don’t mind. I’m just not sure what you want.”

She drops the underwear to talk, but paws at it playfully while she does. “I want to please my master. I need to.”

“Only for today?”

“No. Everyday please, master.”

“Well, this is my house and if you want to stay in it, I don’t care when your schedule is. You’re going to be here like a good kitten when I come home, right?”

“Yes, master.”

“Here to suck my dick and wet my cock with your fuckhole on your knees and on the floor whenever, correct?”

Her nods are brisk, more assured. “Yes, master.”

“In that case, we’ll call it a deal, okay kitten? You can seal it with a kiss.”

Yena looks up at you, unsure for a moment, but quickly comprehends your request. Unzip your pants yourself, then she crawls towards it, panties balled up in one hand. Slowly back up, teasing her by keeping your erect length inches away.

“Don’t you want it badly?”

“I do, master!”

Grab her hair and slap her. “Your voice should be no louder than mine unless I tell you to, is that clear?”

She bobs her head up and down in swift approval. Yena sobs, though more at the lack of dick in her mouth than the punishment. When you reverse all the way to your bar, she continues moving forward, limb by limb. So close to your cock, yet when she leaps forward, the chain tautens and yanks her backwards which snaps her head back. You rush down to her level.

“Are you okay?” you mouth and she nods promptly. The fullness in your voice returns and you roll your eyes as you stand up. “Kitten wants my cock so badly, you turn dumb for it, right?”

“Yes, master.”

“Give me the panties,” you order. Yena complies, a meek paw handing them to you. The musky scent overwhelms you. It’s the same scent between her legs right now, the same scent on your sheets.

Before she joins Everglow, that scent will mark the whole house.

Conversely, if she doesn’t end up joining, it only means you’ll have more time for her to adjust to her new life. Whiff one last time before you set the cloth on the counter. Take your shaft with your hand and bend it towards her. Yena struggles but manages to ghost it with the tip of her tongue. Her licks thirst especially for the dot of white that dribbles from your slit, but out of her reach, she mewls and whines again.

“Tsk. You already have so much milk in your tummy. I didn’t even mean to feed you, I just wanted to slather your face and greedy little kitten had to eat it all up.” You rub your cock on her cheeks and forehead while you draw in a sharp breath. “Hsss. Tsk, I should’ve punished you then.”

With considerable weight, the slap of your cock on her face leaves new imprints to match the now pinker hand marks on her tits. Yena squeals with each whack but she keeps her mouth open and her tongue lapping, even if she can barely graze your erection. She pulls back and inhales deeply before a strangled noise indicates how she travails for a taste.

After enough to soak the underside of your shaft, you acquiesce—not out of any care to fulfill her wishes but just to balance out the moisture on your length. All you need is a slight buck forward and her mouth pounces on your dick, every drop of her drool coating it.

Yena takes her hands off the floor and holds onto your tip with her lips to keep her up as she tries to scoop up all the saliva. By twisting around the base of your rod, her right hand supplements the work of her mouth, unable to take you all the way down as the leash still constricts her, while her left hand gently toys with your sack. Instead of using her face like any of her other holes, having already done that moments ago, you let the raring girl assume responsibility. You don’t need to tell Yena not to get it twisted. The struggle between her hungry mouth and the collar on her neck cautions her that you’re in charge no matter what.

The travertine countertop digs into your hands as you lean back. “Fucking hell, you’re insatiable, aren’t you?”

“Mhm,” Yena hums in a low moan around your cock.

“Like it’ll be the last time, nngh, when there’ll be plenty more in the future.” Shift your weight off the bar and right foot after left, shuffle in a circle around the column that fixes her.

Yena follows you much like an adorable baby duckling.

She can’t quack right now though. Again, your kitten keeps her mouth’s grip on your rod firm and steady even when the rest of her body is unsteady while she shuffles likewise, though on her four limbs.

You reach the back of the leather couch in your entertainment area, admittedly squirming as much as Yena because of her resplendent suction. Lower yourself behind the sofa until you’re seated on the floor, misusing the sofa for the sake of convenience. A longer chain would have been judicious, to let you sit on the cushioned seats, but you had no time nor willpower to think when you tied up Yena to the pillar.

Even on the rare occasion where you’re willing to bring yourself to her level, she doesn’t bother with eye contact, breathlessly bobbing her head away. Yena lets your cock free from her mouth, though still in a supplicant bow in your crotch, between your legs. “Master, please, may I ride you?”

“Did I say stop?” You spit on her face. “Did I ever say you can ask me for anything?”

“N-no. Master.”

You spread the spit all over her dainty features. While she wiped most of her makeup clean the first time, there’s still plenty to smudge, to vitiate the girl as the cock-hungry slut she tries so hard to be. To make your point, grab her chin and urge her to look back at you. Her eyes glaze with a speck of lust, a little more with fear that drives it. “Clearly you have more to learn. You’re lucky I’m spent. Get on top of that dick.”

Yena stifles a happy squeal before she carefully backs up. Slouch against the couch and the ground. Sure, the posture isn’t the best, but she needs a little more give in the chain for her to ride you properly. While your pet’s exigency to fuck your erection amuses you, sometimes you have to be more practical to chase your high. The two of you wordlessly find the perfect distance so that she can mount your lap while alleviating only a touch of pressure on her throat. As a substitute, fingers wrap around her neck. They don’t give more tension than the collar, but you press their tips anyway into the sides just to remind her true position, even while she’s physically above you.

“Are you going to cum without my permission?“

“No, no, of course not, master.”

“Okay. I don’t need to tell you what to do, right?”

With a hurried nod, Yena’s legs wrap around your waist. Though you can’t see much in the barely lit room, especially with the tits that distract your vision, the light touch and wetness of her cunt on your head inform you that her heat trickles out of her ambrosia, even more than before. She brings her body down, at first holding on to your shoulders, though recognizes from your stern glare that she is not to touch you. Yena puts her hands behind her back, and as a result, needs more force to split herself onto your cock. At every prior encounter, she was content leaving the hard work of penetration to you. The natural lubrication is almost not enough for her to kiss the base of your length under her own power.

You come to plenty of realizations, even as Yena accelerates the bouncing pace of her ass. She always enjoys something around her neck—whether it’s a collar that marks her as your property, or your strong hands that do the same when they leave purple on her milky skin—but by the way her pussy flutters every time you inflict more stress on her throat, you only now realize that it’s also about denying her one of a person’s most basic needs, the lack of air intensifying her arousal.

Though even the simplest of animals need to breathe.

“Master!” Yena cries out between strangled puffs of air. “You’re so big, hah, and you fill me up, hah, so well.”

"Didn't know a pet could talk like such a slut, but I guess my kitten's always in fucking heat huh? Telling me she needs to live here, she just wants to be a fuck hole all day, isn't that right?"

Your kitten doesn’t need to nod or vocalize her agreement in any way, you can tell by how little she pays heed to the chain that holds her back by the neck. Despite the fetter, Yena rides you as though your erection might disappear if she doesn't fuck herself onto you hard enough, if she doesn't cum all over your cock. Every bracing jerk up and down causes you to slump further into the floor, further into the couch, so you back up to fix your stance.

In return, she has to bend back herself, the chain unyielding as her ass follows your crotch in its repetitive motions. Once you reach your couch with your spine upright, Yena has to hold herself up on one arm behind, with her toes barely touching the floor in the awkward pose.

“I call you kitten but you’re acting like a slutty bunny that needs to be bred with how you bounce on that dick at any cost.”

The words set her off. “Master, please, I need to cum,” she says.

She doesn’t need to say it. You notice easily. The tightness is obvious.

More tellingly, her hands replace yours on her neck and you’re too adrift in your own lightheadedness to object. Plus she’s much less lenient with herself than you are.

“Cum, cum, master, please, I need it,” she repeats between uneven sighs.

“Hmm.” You pull yourself back up to a better posture, even if it means not leaning back on the couch. Kiss into her neck. It only brings her closer to her demise, especially when you leave more purple after you increase your suction on the sensitive skin. Your pet knows she needs to hold back. While you’re tolerant of her blubbering fucked-out disarray now, consequent punishments may cost more than one orgasm.

More than whatever sweet floral soap mixes and the territorial marking musk of sex, the smell of desperation hits your nose. Yena’s neediness is fragrant with the sweat splashing between your two bodies and saliva from her lips, kept open in a constant ‘O’ with pleasure. “Cum,” she rasps, though the sound barely comes out as a syllable from her slack mouth.

Thwack.

Thwack.

Thwack. The sounds of her ass leaping up and down hold you just as spellbound as the rest of your senses.

“Right,” she says, eyes wavering and searching why you aren’t answering. So Yena isn’t even trying to bait another punishment with an incorrect answer—or rather, request. Instead, she needs your friction, some stimulation on her tender little clit, anything at all but she is too absent in bliss to ask properly until now. “May I cum? Master?”

You hum and haw, your fingers rapping the floor. Your insouciance contrasts Yena’s vivid zeal, the sloppy expression that her face wears, her legs straining and bending to shove her ass all the way down your cock. Her pleasure doesn’t matter, but you can’t deny how it influences you; besides, you feel your vigor waning and need her walls to milk you dry so you can cum as well.

But is she a good enough girl? Her body is so delicious, her role, her act, her kitten routine so practiced, you might not even ask and concede to her if you were a weaker man.

“Are you a good pet?” you say by some remnant resolve.

“I am, I am!”

Before you can tell her to go ahead, Yena slams down, your cock twitching as much as her insides. “Not good enough,” you grit through your teeth.

Reenergized, assume control and fuck your dick up into her by bucking your hips. “Not good enough?” she whines, her tone falling.

“No.” Though the end product is the same—your shaft leaving and entering her body—you start to bear the brunt of the work, the brunt of your crotch into her butt that you hold up with two hands. Instead of Yena riding you, powerless to your cock, you claim your kitten as its rightful owner with your torrid plunges. Her breeding hole is glad to accept. You’re unable to lean back into the couch, because each thrust is so vigorous that it brings you closer and closer to the column. Jam your feet into the carpeted floor to redirect your momentum into Yena.

“I—I, I don’t know if I c-can hold it—” A particular graze of your cockhead against a sensitive spot interrupts her.

“I didn’t. Say. You could. Fucking cum,” you declare with stern pauses.

Internal heat melts your breath away, then sharp throbs originating from your crotch restarts that breathing. You’re near.

“If you’re going to be a good fucking kitten, you go at the word go, every single time. You suck at the word suck, ahh, ngh, you kneel at my command, and most importantly...”

Yena yelps and pulls back when you jab a couple fingers at her tummy, where a distension disappears and appears faster and faster, before your tongue sticks down her mouth and exits just as quickly.

“Ffff…” Hot air escapes your lungs when your focus shifts for a second back to the incredible sensations wringing your cock. “When I breed this messy pussy, you better remember your proper name. What is it?”

“Nothing,” Yena cries out.

One stroke.

Two.

“Cum.” You add approving grunts and slip a finger between her legs to help along, even if the single word is all she needs. Clear liquid spurts from her crotch, a slicker fluid joins the tensing muscles around your cock, and Yena whimpers with her lips firm against yours, slobbering and drawing out air and pleasure as much as she can. Her up and down motions dwindle, but her whole body palpitates.

The order is as much for you as it is for her. You can empathize with Yena. The earlier warmth and pulsations collide, and in that collision, they explode. Bright lights and dim lights dance in your vision again, even when the room appears darker than it ever has. Yena ensconces you wholly, from her limbs and tits clinging to you as much as her cunt, to her ever-present, ever-changing sounds that reverberate in your spacious basement. Unintended moans, your deep sighs of pleasure, her needy mewls looking for a last surge in her climax. You join in her reverie, your attention to the outside world fading. Every fateful meeting with Yena rolls through your mind, every role that you play. The inside you and the outside you blend as one while your sticky seed blends with her juices, its viscosity making her pussy’s suction unbearable. Yena’s tongue blends with yours too.

Work through the stimulation anyway. Shots and more shots of your cum fire into her edacious chamber.

You can only coax your eyes open for a moment to observe your artistry.

Beautiful pale skin stains with all sorts of red and purple and spit, while silky smooth legs quiver. Tight toned stomach bulges with your cock, large soft breasts press into your torso with its stiff bumps and a perfectly round ass ambiently jiggles with every ounce of your load, every spasm of your cock. Cherry red lips smear against yours, revealing a lighter natural color.

As you disconnect from your kiss, the two of you suspire, breaking the thread of spit to fall between your chests, though hers is more glossy wet. Yena smiles. It’s weak, but as proud as ever, its corner upturned like before.

Your hearts find its timing once again, her chest bumping heavily against yours. Some lazy grinding before she unsheathes you, and her breasts uncompress as she backs up though she straddles you. Yena takes whatever leaks and fingers herself with sticky digits.

“Still want more?” you ask.

“Mhmm.” Her reddish cunt is sore but she entertains herself with her hand anyway.

“So your name’s still not Yena?”

The kitten shakes her head.

“God, you’re gonna be a lot of work aren’t you?”

You peel the girl off your thighs, soaked with all sorts of fluid.

“Now if you really want a new home, be a patient pet for me, okay?” you say, as you grab an extra set of keys on the bar counter. “You might still be in the mood, but I’m just one guy. I need some air. I’ll be back later. I better find you in the same clothes you have right now, you know, like a good kitten. I wanna see you outside in my garden when I get back.”

Yena holds back a smirk. While she takes off her restraining chain, she keeps her collar on. Even if it hides the faint bruises, it designates her as your owner all the same. “Thank you.”

“Who knows? Maybe people’ll put two and two together when I post the pictures to my story.”

A dark Sunday dawn is perfect for a scenic drive.

A pet frolics in your garden.

A pearly trail drips out of her like a tail.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

AFF, AO3

Shout out to @existslikepristin for their amazing feedback (you can also find them on AFF). This goes without saying but also shout out to Peach. Already told them this but I always wanted to expand on some quickies and I ended up choosing Pet, over my own quickies, plus this jumped past my very useful draft list, even over my own Yena draft. That's how much I liked it. Hopefully I did it justice.

[writerpeach]

Jealousy

IZ*ONE Yena x Male Reader

9790 words

categories: smut, oral, rough sex

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“Good morning, everyone. You all know why we’re here today.”

Detective Kwon was seated at the head of the white rectangular table centered in the precinct’s main conference room, folding her arms and commanded attention from the other eyes in the room. It wasn’t often that the lead detective was in such a foul mood, yet given the events that led up to this meeting, it wasn’t surprising. The conference room was filled with nothing but blank expressions.

“Our mission was nothing but a complete failure and we need to find out why. Detective Miyawaki will go over everything we know right now,” Eunbi said, the harshness and frustration in her voice unmistakable.

“Yes, boss.” Sakura's usual sugary-sweet cute smile was replaced with a more serious expression. The petite detective stood out with freshly dyed pink hair, adding to her adorable image.

Sakura cleared her throat and sat up straight, taking a deep breath as she looked around the room at other members of the team.

“Our operation commenced last Friday morning at what was Patriarch Goda’s location based on information given by our informant. Detective Eunbi took point along with Detective Hyewon."

Sakura took a steady breath before continuing.

“Our teams surrounded the mansion on three separate sides while Detective Kwon led the charge. All three teams simultaneously breached and found zero members of the Goda clan inside, while the patriarch was nowhere to be found.”

"Our informant Dojima-san has never been wrong about anything we've gone to them about, so we have no reason to believe this is any different," Eunbi briefly interrupted.

"Please continue."

Sakura nodded politely. “There wasn’t anything useful inside but communication equipment. Several laptops were found by our teams, but no useful information could be taken from them as they were securely wiped with military-grade equipment. They knew what they were doing, and most importantly they knew we were coming.”

“Thank you, Detective Miyawaki. Now the question is how in the hell did they find out this information?” Eunbi asked.

“I believe I can give some insight to that, Detective Kwon.” The new voice came from a blonde woman who you had briefly met in your time helping out with the case. Her role was one of the few members of Eunbi's team that wasn’t a detective, working as the precinct’s head security analyst.

“Please give any information you have, Miss Yena.”

“This morning during a routine weekly check of our network logs I noticed some unusual activity. Upon further investigation, I noticed our network firewall had been breached, coincidentally thirty minutes before the raid on the mansion."

Yena lowered her head apologetically as she continued. “I’ve patched the breach and added tighter security to our systems. I apologize I wasn’t able to catch this beforehand.”

“You don’t have to explain. There were so many things happening, with you making sure our surveillance van was properly running I can’t say I can find you at fault. Just make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

“Yes, boss. I’m on it.”

“What did they gain from this breach?” Eunbi asked.

“No sensitive data was stolen or accessed, but our logs show our monitoring systems were rerouted.”

“So they were able to access our comms? That explains how they were able to figure out the details of our plans and getaway.”

“Exactly. I’ve sent in an order for more secure headsets, as well as changed all our frequencies. It’s a mistake we won’t make twice.”

“Thank you, Miss Yena. Is that all?”

“There’s one more thing,” Yena said, placing a small metal device on the table that was roughly the size of a flash drive.

“It wasn’t a software breach but a hardware one. Someone physically installed this into one of our servers, which was how they were able to bypass our systems so easily.”

“Do we know who is responsible?” Eunbi asked.

“No, I’m afraid not, boss. Our security footage was wiped during that time period and replaced with a looped recording. The good news is I’ve checked timestamped footage and everyone in this room was accounted for.

“So you’re saying it was an inside job? That whoever attached this device works for us?” Eunbi said as she inspected the small device.

“It’s a high possibility, boss. We’re looking into it as much as we can.”

“The moment you find any information let me know as soon as possible.”

“Of course, boss.”

“Now, if there’s nothing else to discuss I believe that will conclude this debriefing. Our priority is still capturing Patriarch Goda, but now we also have to deal who was inside our systems and why. If you find any pertain information please let me or Detective Hyewon know immediately. Dismissed.”

Detective Kwon couldn’t help hide her frustration as things winded down, not that anybody would have blamed her. The room cleared out as you were left alone with Eunbi who grabbed your arm just as you were about to make your own exit.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Eunbi playfully said, caressing your shoulder and batted her eyelashes.

“Seeing as I officially work for you now, I should get back to work. Boss.”

Eunbi had brought you on as a consultant with an extremely lucrative salary that you couldn’t turn down. She knew your experience on the other side of the law would come in handy during investigations and interrogating suspects, knowing how they acted, how they worked, and how they thought. It didn’t hurt that the job offer came with a nice comfy office and the chance to be around a group of beautiful women every day.

“Boss? Look at you all formal now,” Eunbi said as her fingers played with the collar of your dark-colored dress shirt, flashing you bedroom eyes that signaled danger like prey caught in a predator's trap.

“Now that everyone is gone...mommy could really use some stress relief,” Eunbi said, her lips curling into a smirk.

“That doesn’t sound very professional, Detective.”

“Well, It’s not very professional when you rail Detective Miyawaki in our break room either is it?” Eunbi said, her tone clearly unamused as she folded her arms.

You didn't have a chance to defend yourself the door to the conference room abruptly swung open and walked in one of the leggy rookie detectives, Kim Minju. The look on her face expressed she wasn’t here to deliver anything but bad news as you both sensed the dread in the air.

“Sorry to interrupt, boss. There’s been another body found,” Minju said, trying to keep her expression muted.

“Goddammit. Where was it found?” Eunbi asked, her body tensing up as she gritted her teeth.

“It was pulled out of the river about an hour ago. It hasn’t been identified yet but forensics stated it was a male in his early fifties.”  

“Most likely another hit, this has to stop. We need to figure out a way to catch these assholes who keep endangering our citizens.”

Eunbi rubbed her temple in small circles as she contemplated what her next step was. “Thank you, Minju.”

Minju bowed and exited without another word, leaving you alone with Detective Kwon once again.

“I have to get down there right away and check things out. Guess we’ll have to take a raincheck on that stress relief,” Eunbi said, her lips fading into a frown as she flashed a look of disappointment.

“Call me if you need anything.”

                                                       ✦✦

You didn’t have much direction without Detective Eunbi at the precinct. Part of your new job entailed staying behind the one-way mirror during investigations, giving valuable advice with your knowledge of the other side to prove assistance.

There wasn’t any of that in the early morning for you to assist to, only left with a stack of dossiers from criminals given by Detective Kwon you may or may not have had previous contact with. You found yourself restless and decided on a little stroll around the precinct to stretch your legs.

It wasn’t that easy navigating your way through the precinct halls as you tried to remember where things were, using familiar posters and bulletin boards on the brick walls of the precinct.

The layout still confused you regardless of how many times you had been in this building as you exchanged pleasantries with the different officers and detectives you had met before, giving polite greetings to those you hadn’t yet.

Leaving your office you realized how little energy you had at that moment. The clock hadn’t yet made it to noon as you made a beeline to the break room in need of an energy boost, remembering the coffee there was better than it had any right to be and put any coffee chain’s overpriced roast to shame.

The quiet door to the break room creaked open as you weren’t the only one with the same idea to sneak in a little caffeine break. You found the security analyst from the morning meeting occupying the room.

“You’re in luck, I just brewed a fresh pot,” the pretty blonde said as she grabbed one of several mugs from an above cabinet. She carefully poured fresh coffee into her mug, opening three packets of sugar and poured them all at once, stirring it several times as she took a seat.

“It’s Yena, right?” you asked as you poured yourself some hot piping coffee into your own mug, watching the satisfying steam coming out. You didn’t bother adding anything, needing the strong and bitter taste to wake you up as you took a seat next to her.

“That would be me,” Yena cutely said as she slurped on her coffee, using both hands to drink it as she clearly enjoyed the taste of it as it hit her taste buds. This was your first official introduction to each other you realized, and there wasn’t a better time to get to know her.

It wasn’t unusual for the room to not be occupied given that the detectives were constantly too busy to breathe on most days, much less spend time to enjoy a meal.

“And you’re Detective Kwon’s new hire, right?” Yena asked, the color in her eyes visible as she leaned in, letting the aroma of the fresh coffee take over.

“Yes, that’s right. I’ve been working unofficially with her on the Goda clan case for weeks. I’ve been spending so much time around here she wanted me to be getting paid for it. Plus, it’s an easy way to keep me safe.”

“Because you used to be one of them, right?” Yena asked. Word went around quickly that Detective Kwon had hired a former yakuza, which made the district uneasy but Eunbi was fully trustworthy and quickly quelled any concerns.

“Something like that,” you responded, not quite wanting to fully respond to such a heavy question to someone you hadn’t had a prior conversation before today.

“Did you ever kill anyone?”

The abruptness of her question almost caused you to spit out your coffee.

“No, I was just a low-level grunt. Not that I was capable of it anyways,” you replied, still surprised at her question.

“You wouldn’t be here working for us if you had, and you’re right. You’re not capable of it at all, you’re too cute.”

You didn’t know how to react to that, taking a long sip of coffee. When your mug hit the table, Yena abruptly grabbed your hands, carefully inspecting them with care.

“Ah, you still have all your fingers,” Yena said, as your expression became even more puzzled.

“...Why wouldn’t I?”

“Don’t you get a finger cut off if you mess up?” Yena said with the cutest amount of laughter.

You stifled a laugh before you felt like responding to such an absurd question.

“You have to commit a serious offense for that to happen. Disobey your patriarch’s orders, kill someone you weren’t supposed to, that sort of thing. Only saw it happen to one other member.”

“Or leave the organization without warning and leak information to the police,” Yena said, putting a hand over her mouth to cover up her laughter this time.

“If they get to me they’ll cut off more than just a finger.”

“Don’t worry, Detective Kwon will make sure all your limbs stay just where they belong,” Yena said teasingly, running a finger around the rim of her mug.

“Are you and Detective Kwon...” Yena said, giving a moment of hesitation before forming the rest of her sentence.

“Are we what?”

“Are you together? You seem so close, I see the way she looks at you whenever she talks to you,” Yena said, and if you didn’t know any better she seemed at least a little jealous.

“No, nothing like that,” you said, sipping on your coffee carefully, amused at the way the conversation had changed.

“Detective Kwon and I had a very interesting first meeting, and we’ve been working together ever since, so we’ve gotten to know each other pretty well working on this case. We���ve established a very tight relationship.”

“I’m sure that’s not that only thing that’s tight,” Yena snickered. You ignored her cute little one-liner as you kept your attention on well, her. She was a real striking beauty - light blonde hair, pretty dark brown eyes, a cute nose, and the fullest red lips you had seen, definitely her best feature. There was some regret sinking in for taking this long to talk to her.

“Yena...are you jealous?” you fired back. If she could ask ridiculous out of nowhere questions then so could you. She wasn’t expecting it if the expression on her face was anything to go on.

“Jealous? What could I possibly be jealous of?” Yena asked nonchalantly, running a hand through strands of golden hair while her cheeks became reddened. If Eunbi had taught you anything it was how to read people, and Yena had a bad poker face.

“I’m too busy working twelve-hour days to be jealous,” Yena said, quick to defend herself. She broke eye contact as her hands fiddled with her coffee mug, shyly staring off in the distance. l

“I should probably get back to work. There’s a stack of dossiers Eunbi left me that I should look over,” you said.

“So soon? We haven’t been here for that long,” Yena said, looking up at the time. “That reminds me, I need to drop this report in her office. Care to come with me?”

“Sure,” you said. You didn’t really see a reason not to accompany her and weren’t actually that eager to go back to going through stacks of criminal profiles that you felt was a little more than busywork.

                                                       ✦✦

“It’s locked,” Yena said as she jiggled the doorknob to Eunbi’s office. You’re not sure what she expected given the detective had been away all morning. Yena tried again for some reason, as if she were expecting it to magically open the second time as she looked around and tried to figure out what to do.

“You can just drop it off later when she’s back from the investigation can’t you?”

“I could, but what if I forget to give it to her? It’s so easy for me to get caught up in my work that I should leave this for her, it’s important that she gets it.”

“Ah!” Yena said as she scurried away, finding who she needed just out of view. It didn’t take long for her to return, bringing one of the janitors back with her.”

“Here it is. If you could unlock it for me it would be very appreciated. Detective Kwon needed this report on her desk by the afternoon, but you see she’s away on investigation, and I have something to attend to so I won’t be here. You understand, right?”

“No need to explain, Miss Choi, I’ll get you in,” the janitor said as he looked through a giant ring of keys, trying to find the right one and unlocked the office door.

“Just make sure you lock it back up when you’re done. You have a good day.”

“Thanks, you too!” Yena said as she stepped inside and you followed her in, waiting for her to drop off the report.

“I always forget how big her office is,” Yena said as you followed her inside. Detective Kwon had moved to a bigger office, one that was deserving of after her promotion. Yena looked around the office, carefully scanning the various awards and achievements that lined the walls, once again unable to control the jealousy inside her.

“Detective Kwon...you’re so lucky,” Yena muttered under her breath with a faded smile, setting a dark-colored folder on top of her neatly organized desk, making sure not to knock anything over.

“This place is big enough to move in,” Yena said. She took one last look around the spacious office, picking up Eunbi’s signature piglet plush off her desk and gave it a squeeze before putting it back where it belonged.

“Well, we should get out of here before we get too comfortable then,” you said and moved towards the door, ready to move on and get back to whatever work you could manage to do. Your exit was soon blocked by Yena, carrying a mischievous smile on her beautiful face as she stood in the doorway.

“What if I wanted to get a little too comfortable?” she said, closing the door with one hand as it shut behind her, the thud of the door slamming echoing against the high office walls.

“I’m sure you have plenty of work as well, Ye-”

She was quick to silence you by closing the distance and pressing a fingertip against your lips, stopping any additional objections.

“Work can wait. I’ve done what Detective Kwon has asked of me and gave a full detailed report of our breach which is on her desk waiting for her when she comes back.”

“I have dossiers I need to look through to see if I-”

You didn’t finish your sentence for the second time in a row as Yena’s deep brown eyes stared into your own, and you felt her small hands playfully pushing you back as you fell onto the couch. Yena wasn’t far behind and straddled your lap, the weight of her small body comforting as her legs around your waist.

“That can wait, too.”

“Yena, we can’t-

“Have you had sex with her in here?” she said, insisting on not letting you finish an entire sentence.

“What?”

“Have you had sex with Eunbi in this office?”

“Of course not. She’s a professional and this office is for work use only.”

That was the answer Yena was looking for if the change in her expression was anything to go by.

“Let’s change that, then,” she said as she wrapped her hands around the nape of your neck, staring even deeper into your eyes.

“Unless you don’t want to, that’s fine. You can go back to your office all alone and look at a bunch of old guys who you may or may not have seen in your past life.”

“That sounds like a terrible alternative to what’s happening right now.”

“I think so too."

Without another word you felt the warmth of her full lips smacking against your own, taking you by surprise. Instinctively you snaked your hands around her slender waist, giving in to temptation with ease. Her lips were soft as silk and tasted like your favorite candy as her tongue eagerly entered your mouth played with your counterpart.

Yena showed her aggressive side as she grabbed the back of your head, wanting you to taste her deeper as her tongue danced around in your mouth as you explored her body with your hands and wanted to rip the tight black top she had that only served as a nuisance.

“Not bad,” Yena said as the kiss was broken, lightly gasping for air as she cupped your face and stared intently into your eyes. You wanted more of her, more of her addicting taste, but she had other ideas as you let her take charge.

“I’ll show you something even better.”

Yena didn’t give you a moment to respond as she dismounted your lap and dropped to her knees, eyeing your crotch as her lips curled into a devilish smirk, ruffling a hand through her hair.

“Let’s see what Detective Kwon has been keeping to herself,” she said with a lustful look on her features as she worked your pants and unzipped them, running her small delicate hands all over your clothed cock as it hardened at her touch.

“Looks like someone’s ready,” Yena giggled, biting her lip as she gave your crotch a firm squeeze and traced the outline of your bulge with her fingers. Giving your thighs a few strokes she spread your legs wide and pulled your cock out of your boxers, wrapping her fingers around it and gave a few pumps to bring you to full hardness.

“This must be one of the reasons Eunbi likes you so much,” she said as she admired your hard shaft, the feel of her warm hand on your cock sending heavenly pleasure up your body.

Yena kept the friction slow and pleasurable, lazily stroking your shaft as she pulled your boxers down to grant full access to your cock. Licking her lips she gave a long swipe of her wet tongue from base to tip. swirling around your swollen cockhead and flicking against your leaking slit as you moaned.

She explored your throbbing shaft with her wet tongue, gathering up precum on it as she needed more and wanted to move on to the main event. Yena had deep desire and lust in her seductive eyes and hunger that could only be satiated by one thing.

Yena licked everywhere she could, tasting every inch of your cock and needing you inside her hungry mouth without delay. She ran her tongue over her lips a second time and planted a tender kiss on the tip of your cock. Making sure her hair was out of her eyes, her lips parted with your shaft and took you into her wet warm mouth, causing a deep moan to escape your mouth almost involuntarily, sending electricity throughout your spine.

You felt intense pleasure as Yena’s soft plump lips wrapped around your cock, a feeling like nothing else that set your senses on fire as she slowly sucked on your swollen tip, her tongue playfully licking the underside of your shaft.

“Yena...fuck,” you moaned, tilting your head and relaxing back into the couch. Yena’s lips felt so warm and soft, the wetness of her mouth overwhelming you as she sucked you off, tending to your pleasure at her pace and keeping constant eye contact that aroused you even more.

“Do you like that?” Yena asked, spitting on your cock repeatedly and stroking it furiously, wanting your shaft nice and wet for her as her tongue wandered around and coated every surface in warm plentiful saliva.

“I do, it feels amazing,” you said, the intense pleasure causing your breath to hitch. The pleasure was intoxicating as Yena returned to working your shaft, using her delicious plump lips and tongue in tandem as she bobbed her head up and down and watched the satisfaction in your eyes that she was giving.

You let out a loud deep breath as Yena continued her oral assault, sliding her luscious lips up and down your cock with ease as she let out messy slurping noises as she enjoyed what she was doing to you. In no time at all she upped her pace, no longer content as her movements grew wild, sucking your cock sloppily in a way that matched only the way Eunbi performed oral on you.

Yena knew what she was doing as she fondled your balls with one hand, caressing your thigh with the other to bring as much pleasure as she could and amplified the intensity, leaving a trail of drool as your shaft glistened in the light.

“God, that feels so fucking good,” you moaned, running a hand through golden strands of hair before grabbing the back of her head, guiding the movements of her amazing blowjob and trying to find any outlet for the harsh spikes of pleasure taking over.

You could barely remember where you were, much less that you were in Eunbi’s office and one of her team members was pleasuring your cock.

Yena’s lips went deep, hitting the end of your shaft as she slobbered on your cock, covering every inch in her warm saliva. The endless pleasure was becoming too much as you watched the gorgeous blonde swallowing down your cock with ease.

“Fuck...if you keep doing that you’re gonna make me cum.”

“That’s what I’m trying to do,” Yena said seductively as she rubbed your shaft all over her puckered lips.

“Cum in my mouth.”

You weren’t going to say no to that.

Yena wanted to show you what she could really do as she held onto your thighs and bobbed her head hastily, becoming a blur of blonde hair as she eagerly anticipated your release.

The point of no return rapidly approached. You couldn’t help moaning loudly at how Yena’s mouth felt, so warm, and wet, her lips so incredibly soft that it was impossible to last any longer. The look in her eyes pleaded for your climax and you weren’t going to disappoint her.

“Yena, I’m gonna fucking cum, oh f-fuck-”

Your climax struck like a lightning bolt as you felt it from your head to your curling toes. With both hands on the back of her head, you pushed Yena’s pretty face all the way down to your base, your shaft throbbing wildly as you unloaded several spurts of hot cum into her warm mouth and down her tight throat, grunting loudly with each shot.

Nothing existed at that moment as you groaned and groaned as your sharp orgasm took over your body, continuing to empty your balls into her mouth. You were both so focused on your pleasure, the way your cock was being drained dry that neither of you noticed the sound of the doorknob being turned as the door swung open.

“Could have sworn I locked this door before I left...”

Detective Kwon.

You both froze in panic at the situation, releasing the tight grip on Yena’s head as you had been caught quite literally with your pants down. Your depleted shaft plopped out of Yena’s warm mouth as she had gathered your thick and plentiful load into her mouth and you were both forced to turn your attention to Eunbi as you both gasped for air.

“Well, well, well. This isn’t what I was expecting to see during my lunch break,” Eunbi said, shutting the door behind her and standing with her hands on her hips.

“Dwrtrecrtrv-” Yena tried speaking with her mouth full of thick hot semen gathered on her tongue.

“Seems like your mouth is a little full at the moment. I hope you were planning on swallowing that.”

Yena immediately obeyed as if it were a direct order, tilting her head back as she took two big gulps and sent your load down into her stomach, licking her lips clean. She opened her mouth, letting you and not Eunbi see that nothing was left, all gone.

"Delicious."

“Damn right it is, good job. Now, care to explain why you’re on your knees sucking my new hire’s cock in the middle of my office? Not that I blame you, but how did you even get in here?”

“I had those reports you requested from this morning’s meeting, and I made sure not to forget to drop them off. There was a janitor nearby so I asked him to let me in.”

“Spoken like a true security expert. That explains the first part, but not why I found you with a mouth full of cock.”

“Well, we were having coffee together, and he’s cute. Do I need a better reason?”

Eunbi sighed. “Try and keep it in your pants, both of you. Now get dressed and get out.”

Yena headed out first as you got dressed quickly, not wanting to make things even more awkward. She gave a polite bow to Detective Kwon while hastily making her exit. You headed towards the door to make your own exit when Eunbi placed a hand on your shoulder, leaning into your ear to whisper something.

“If you’re going to fuck her later, make sure you don’t pull out. I bet she’s tight.”

Just the thought Eunbi put into your mind sent blood to your loins again. You gathered your senses and smiled at Eunbi.

“I’ll go look over those files now. See you later, detective.”

                                                       ✦✦

It was hard to concentrate on the rest of the day to say the least. You went in and out of Detective Kwon’s office, giving your input and knowledge throughout the day and thankfully not once did she mention the incident from earlier in the morning, focusing on giving what limited details she decided to give from her crime scene investigation from earlier.

Long into the afternoon you roamed the halls, heading back towards your office to go over more files Detective Kwon had assigned.

“Come with me.”

You barely heard the three words until you were dragged into a nearby supply closet. Not even bothering to switch the light on, you felt your back being pushed against shelves, small hands pressed against both sides of your face. You felt warmth against your mouth, lips that were unforgettable and unmistakable soft lips of the security analyst, Yena. You could barely see the outline of her pretty face, the darkness of the room dimly showing her blonde hair.

“I think we should find another office.”

“I’d rather we didn’t get caught again.”

“Well then, my place or yours?”

She didn’t give you a moment to respond as she pulled you into another kiss, time more aggressively, adding more tongue and biting on your lower lip. You felt powerless to resist, not that you wanted to.

“My place,” Yena said, deciding for you. “I want you somewhere Eunbi hasn’t been.”

“You really are jealous, aren’t you?”

Yena huffed. “I told you, I’m not,” she responded, giving your crotch a firm squeeze through your pants.

"It's not like she has the most amazing figure, perfect huge tits, and thighs that could crush a watermelon. Not to mention how beautiful she is, but no, I'm not jealous."

"Not even a little?"

“No, shut up, let’s get out of here.”

                                                       ✦✦

Out of the few women you had slept with from Eunbi’s team, including the detective herself, they all gave you a chance to explore their place, even so much as offering a drink before the magic happened.

Not Yena.

There wasn’t any offering of so much as a glass of water, barely did you even have a chance to kick off your shoes as you entered Yena’s apartment before being whisked away dragged straight into the bedroom.

This Yena was different from the security analyst back at the precinct, the cute girl who loved to make jokes and covered her mouth every time she laughed. This version of Yena was a little less shy, a lot more confident, and certainly a lot more aggressive.

That’s not to say you didn’t love this new side of Yena. Every move she made caught you unprepared, and before you knew it you were flat your back was flat on her black silk sheets, as you engaged in another hot and heavy makeout session.

“I want you, Yena,” you said as you tenderly kissed her sensitive neck, wrapping your arms around her slim waist again as your hands roamed all over each other’s body desperately as you found her irresistible.

“And I want you to fuck me,” she said, quick to divest your shirt off your body as she admired your bare chest.

This Yena knew exactly what she wanted and wasn’t afraid to ask for it.

“Fuck me like you’ve fucked Eunbi,” Yena said. She had the same lustful stare from earlier, this time more intense and hungry.

“Eunbi is usually the one in control,” you said, matching her gaze and trying to keep up her intensity.

“Then I guess it’s your turn. Must be your lucky day.”

“Considering I got a blowjob from the hottest blonde before noon today, I’d agree with you,” you said, briefly letting Yena react before you grabbed her body and pulled her onto the bed, switching places with her. She smirked.

“Fuck me,” Yena repeated, the look in her eyes growing with intensity even more. It wouldn’t be that hard for you to give in to her demands as you dove into her neck again, sucking away at the tender skin until you were stopped.

“D-don’t leave a mark, Eunbi will kill us.”

“Then let her kill us.“

Yena took a second to think. “I’d rather have your lips somewhere else.“

Without hesitation, she grabbed the hem of her black top, lifting it up and over her head and tossing it away in the distance. Your eyes feasted on her full round breasts covered in a lacy black bra that demanded to be free.

Yena always dressed rather conservatively at work, wearing buttoned-up shirts or blouses that covered up her chest without any real hint as to what she was working with. It was a nice surprise to see how busty she was.  

“What do you think? They’re nowhere near as big as Eunbi’s,” she said, somehow disappointed even after showing off such a delicious set of supple tits.

“I think they’re perfect.”

You didn’t waste any time, allowing your hands to take over as they caressed over any exposed skin you could find as you felt her tight, toned midriff, kissing her collarbone on both sides and falling into a trance at the sight of her nearly exposed breasts.

Yena had as little patience as you did, reaching behind her back with one hand as she unhooked the clasp of her bra, hastily wanting to be rid of the piece of fabric. She watched your reaction as she removed the straps off her shoulders, stripping off the garment and disposing of it to leave her full breasts exposed for your eyes only.

You grew breathless at the sight of her exposed juicy tits, mouth salivating at the sight of perfectly pale and round mounds of flesh that nothing else no longer mattered to you.

Yena lifted her arms over her head, giving you the perfect view of her now topless body and exposed pale skin as her breasts bounced. You couldn’t resist any longer as you cupped her sizable tits, squeezing the soft flesh that fit perfectly into your hands that earned the cutest of moans from her as you kneaded them gently.

“Taste them. Taste me,” Yena said, her voice full of need as you kept your hands full, never wanting to stop playing with her large tits that felt so pillowy soft to the touch.

“Do you like my tits?” she asked, clearly already knowing the answer. You couldn’t get enough of them, both your hands and eyes were drawn to them like a moth to a flame, massaging the warm flesh as you ran a thumb over both nipples, causing them to harden against your touch and eliciting cute gasps.

“I fucking love them,” you said, immediately diving in and latching your lips around one of her stiff nipples, sucking gently on it as your other hand fondled the one not in your mouth. Yena whined cutely, her body jerking at the pleasure as your lips and tongue stayed attached to her stiffened nipple that you never wanted to leave.

Yena’s beautiful eyes closed shut for a moment as you switched breasts, your lips attacking each and every part of her voluptuous chest as you slurped on her nipples until they were drenched in saliva and swollen, suckling with purpose and desire.

She was falling apart by the second as you messily sucked her tits, and you felt the need to give her even more. You wanted her to melt into a puddle as you gradually traveled a hand down her pants, into her underwear and slipped a finger into her tight pussy.

Yena gasped and her hips bucked as your finger explored her hole, your digit being coated liberally with the slick juices that had formed. She squirmed and writhed underneath you wildly as you fucked her hole slowly, earning several muted moans as you couldn’t help but continue kissing her as she moaned into your mouth

“You’re so wet, Yena,” you said, slowly pumping into her cunt back and forth, feeling the tightness of her walls gripping your finger harshly, the wet womanly juices abundant on your fingers as you played with her wet folds two knuckles deep.

“I’m wet because of you.”

Those words brought a smile to your lips, finding motivation to move deeper as the only sounds escaping from Yena’s lips was a series of gasps and moans as you brought a second finger inside, pumping into her as deep to the very hilt as wanton desire flooded her body.  

“F-fuck, I need you inside me. Not just your fingers, I need you to fuck me. Now.”

You couldn’t quite tell if she was begging or demanding, either way you weren’t going to let her request go unanswered. You gave a few more pumps before withdrawing your wet messy fingers out of her hole before making a show of licking them clean.

“You’re delicious, Yena.”

She gave a shy smile in response, and you were quick to work the zipper of her pants, forcibly yanking down both her pants alongside her underwear. Yena was left completely naked and all her beautiful curves on display for you and nothing could make you take your eyes off her.

Yena’s nude body was impeccable, a beautiful work of art from head to toe - perfect breasts, tight tummy, plentiful thighs, and the prettiest pussy, clean-shaven and dripping wet, delicious pink flesh ready to be devoured.

Yena instinctively spread her legs for you, and while you were nothing but eager to give her a taste you frowned as you felt your face being pushed away and denied of such a succulent treat.

“I can’t wait any longer, just fuck me.”

While you lamented the loss of having her thighs around your head, you couldn’t argue with her as you quickly stripped to match her state of undress, sending clothes flying off of your body in a blur.

You were equally eager to get started as you knelt and positioned yourself between Yena’s spread legs, admiring her pink flesh dripping with arousal as you took your cock and lined it up with her entrance. It took everything in your power to not immediately shove your needy cock deep inside Yena, wanting to savor the experience of initial penetration.

Her pretty pink pussy was more than ready for your cock as you rubbed your shaft between her slippery lips, feeling the heat from between her pussy inviting you in. Yena couldn’t take much more of your teasing, unable to control herself as she snatched your shaft out of your hand and slipped the tip of your cock inside her dripping heat, parting her warm flesh as you entered her pussy for the first time.

“Oh f-fuck…” she moaned as she let go of the tight grip she had on of your cock, letting you do the rest as you pushed in deeper to allow your tip to disappear inside her wanton body.

“A little impatient aren’t we?” you teased, gingerly moving your swollen cockhead in and out of Yena’s tight pussy as the intense warmth and wetness surrounded your rigid shaft.

“Y-yes. Don’t make me beg.”

“But that sounds like so much fun,” you said as a wry smile washed over your face.

“Just shut up and fuck me,” Yena bluntly said, as if she had flipped a switch from begging to demanding. When a woman asked you to fuck her, you wouldn't dare disappoint.

You moved slowly inside Yena with a gentle but steady pace, using your hips as you gave smooth, gentle strokes, watching the slick pink lips of her tight pussy being stretched out with the first few inches of your shaft.

“More. I can take it, give me all of you,” Yena said as she let out a series of whiny moans, tossing blonde hair back and placing her hands flat on the mattress.

Yena looked up with an insatiable desire as she bit her lip, and you followed her instructions as inch by inch you slid in deeper into her cunt, keeping your eyes focused on her, only finding deep pleasure in her eyes.

Keeping the movements smooth as possible you worked every inch inside, letting her tight pussy swallow up your shaft until you had bottomed her out, sharing gasps and moans of being completely inside her.

“That’s it, just like that. Fuck, you’re so big,” Yena blurted out as she gritted her teeth, letting herself adjust to your length and gasping at the hard flesh buried inside her cunt.

“So fucking tight,” you said, unable to think straight at the sensations of you being buried to hilt inside the incredibly sexy blonde you were lucky enough to now be inside. Yena’s eyes signaled for you to keep going and you did so without hesitation, sliding every inch that had been covered in her wet juices again and again.

Yena grew relaxed as the time went on, every thrust as pleasurable as could be as you fucked, finding the perfect rhythm. You impaling her with every inch with deep strokes and you felt overwhelmed by the tight grip of her drenched wet lips.

“Does that feel good?” you asked, watching Yena carefully. It took her a moment to process your words, pleasure running its course throughout her body.

“It feels amazing. Fuck me harder.”

You were happy to fulfill her request, having your fill of build-up. Grabbing onto Yena’s slender waist, you used more power in your hips as you granted harder thrusts, driving yourself deep with every movement and upping your pace gradually.

It was a wonderful sight to see. Yena’s gorgeous naked body was rocked by your deep thrusts, causing her beautiful breasts to bounce deliciously with every pop of your hips as her pretty mouth stayed open, releasing a mass of satisfied moans. She grew progressively wetter the longer you fucked her, every inch of your hard shaft covered in her essence as kept yourself buried balls deep at the end of every thrust.

“Come on, I said to fuck me harder,” Yena said with a fire in her eyes, unsatisfied

with your current pace. You had been holding back, not wanting to hurt her and also savoring the feeling of every entrance and exit into her wet cunt.

The chains had been unshackled and you were going to give in to both of your desires, fueled by the lust and hunger in her eyes. Without the need for build-up you immediately intensified your thrusts, slamming your hips against her tight body and fucking Yena with deep strokes into her body that gave spikes of pleasure.

Your rhythm grew harsher as you pistoned into her pussy, the bed creaking and rocking against the bedroom wall. In no time at all the room filled with the lustful sounds of pleasure and smacking of hot flesh against hot flesh as your naked bodies became misted with sweat. You leaned forward and captured Yena’s full bouncing breasts with your fingertips, squeezing the soft flesh as her pretty moans grew louder and whinier.

“There you go. Pound that tight little pussy,”

With your hands full of Yena’s plentiful tits you let out your own series of lustful noises, growls and grunts that sounded more animalist by second as you kept slamming your cock into Yena, finding the perfect angle as the walls of her dripping warm hole became more of a tight fit by the second.

“Fuck, that’s so good, don’t fucking stop!”

You kept the intensity up as sweat dripped down your forehead, exerting all the energy and power you had in your hips. You didn’t care if the bed underneath you was going to give out and collapse, all that mattered was the sharp pleasure you were feeding the both of you.

“Oh my god, I’m going to cum!” Yena desperately cried out, the pulsating walls of her heat confirming her words as they squeezed your cock and released repeatedly as you continued pushing her over the edge.

Running your hands all her bare skin you felt all you could of Yena’s pale bare skin, gliding your palms over her soft flushed skin. Yena reached for your hands as you interlocked your fingers with her, feeling her small hands squeezing yours as you repeatedly drove yourself inside her and helped Yena chase her impending climax.

“I’m cumming!”

You didn’t dare stop moving your rapidly pistoning shaft as Yena came hard all over your cock, her breathing audibly speeding up as her toes curled, and her hips bucked with a mind of their own. Her orgasm was so loud and so violent as the entire bed frame shook, her slim fingers squeezing the life out of your own and pounded her straight through every second of her orgasm.

It took several moments for Yena to recover from her orgasm, coming back to life as her breath slowly came back to its usual state. With your hands still linked when Yena you gradually slowed down your hips until you were barely moving inside her, leaning as far as you could and lifted her arms over her head.

“You’re really good at this,” Yena said, every syllable gasping for air as she softly kissed your lips as she looked into with glazed over eyes.

“Good at what?”

“At making me cum. I can still feel it,” Yena said weakly, a shy smile overtaking her features. She leaned into to give you one more kiss as her eyes continued to stay half-lidded as she recovered from her euphoric bliss.

“It’s your turn now. You must be close, right?” Yena asked, catching her breath, her delicious chest heaving hypnotically.

“I’ve got a little left,” you said, looking into Yena’s eyes once more as she gave off a proud smile.

“Keep fucking me then. Take me however you want.”

You didn’t exchange any more words as you slowly withdrew your cock from inside Yena, your cock stained with her messy juices that glistened in her bedroom lights. You immediately knew how you wanted her as you grabbed her hips and turned her body over, letting you see her cute backside for the first time.

Yena quickly received your message and got into position on hands and knees, raising her tight ass and shaking it as she brought a hand between her creamy thighs and played with her splayed pink lips, looking back erotically.

“Shove that nice cock back inside me.”

There was no time to waste in a moment like this, but you allowed yourself just a second to admire Yena’s bent over body in the best position, face down into the mattress and her delicious ass raised up in preparation for what was next.

Yena wasn’t left empty for very long as you returned your cock back inside her, finding it impossible to tease her as you slid back inside with one smooth stroke. She was even wetter after her orgasm, and in this position she felt much tighter, the snugness of her walls almost too much to bear as you picked up speed and fucked her from behind.

“Oh fuuuck…”

Just like before you didn’t bother with any build-up, immediately re-establishing your pace and ramming your cock slick with her juices at a swift pace, earning sinful gasps and moans from the moaning blonde.

The view in front of you was perfect. Yena’s bent over body, the perfect arch of her back, pristine pale skin from head complete with beautiful pink lips that your cock was spearing repeatedly, it was all surreal to experience.

The air felt light as you felt the tightness of warm flesh wrapped around your shaft, you wondered how you lucked into sleeping with a fourth different member of Eunbi’s team, each woman a unique sexual experience in their own individual way.

Yena’s wide hips were the perfect resting spot for your hands as you thrusted harshly into her, giving deep firm strokes that hit her most pleasurable spot as you found her favorite angle. Her cheeks jiggled with every rock of your hips as you smacked up against her tight body, constant wetness and warmth suffocating your shaft.

“Just like that, you’re so fucking deep, oh god…”

It wasn’t enough just to take her in this position, you desperately needed more. With one hand on her hip, you grabbed the front of her shoulder with the other and pulled her back until her body was upright with yours, her sweaty back pressed up against your chest. The newly found position added for even deeper penetration and a heightened sense of intimacy, with the additive incentive of Yena able to moan closer to your ears.

“I’m starting to think you like my pussy,” Yena said.

“I love it. Your pussy feels so fucking good, I want to be inside you all night.”

“Do you like it more than Eunbi?” Yena said. “You don’t have to answer.”

You were thankful she didn’t need an answer for such an impossible question, one that you would be able to answer in a million years. Your thoughts resumed back to the dripping hot flesh wrapped around your cock that you were pounding into, desperate to take as much pleasure from her body as possible.

“That’s it, just like that! Fuck me as hard as you can!”

Yena’s lustful words and sensual moans were music to your ears. Part of you worried that you were being too rough, but when the screams and moans that were a constant stream from Yena’s lips you knew otherwise.

You did everything you could to keep Yena in this position, holding onto her body with one hand to ensure her body stayed upright. Your other hand had reached around to her plentiful chest, grabbing the breast closest to you as best as you could and squeezing the soft mound harshly all while you were ramming into her tight cunt at full speed.

“Oh f-uck! Fuck me just like this, fuck me until you cum in me!”

You hadn’t heard a better set of encouraging words all week. The room grew hotter by the second, each thrust into Yena’s warmth sending shockwaves of pleasure. Your hips worked overtime, smacking harshly against her sweaty body as the beautiful echo of flesh slapping echoed in the room.

It was your turn to be greedy as you gave everything you had, desperately craving your release the same way Yena had taken hers already. Your bodies intertwined as you ravaged Yena’s tight body, using all your leftover energy to give in to your animalistic desires.

“I”m so fucking close,” you growled, keeping up the merciless pace, each thrust being buried to the hilt inside Yena’s tight pussy, aching for your release. The loud smack against her ass, the wetness of her tight pussy, it was all far too much to handle.

“I want you to cum, I need you to cum inside me, please. Cum inside me like you have inside Eunbi, please, please cum inside my tight little pussy,” Yena begged, once again her switch being turned on as she turned in a cute whimpering mess.

There wasn’t a chance of doing anything else.

You didn’t want it all to end. The creak of Yena’s bed that you swore was liable to break at any second, the deep guttural moans that escaped her lips, and the wet squelch of her dripping tight cunt as you endlessly pounded into her, a sound that intoxicated you as it entered your ears, you wanted it all to last for eternity.

Just a few more thrusts was all you had left, at the peak of your final one you slammed hard and buried yourself deep into her dripping cunt and exploded, throbbing violently and filling her walls with thick hot cum. Yena tilted her head to meet yours and interrupted your moans with her warm lips as you filled her tight cavern to the brim with hot cum, muffled moans desperate to escape each other’s tired mouths as you emptied every drop into her hot tight body.

The look of satisfaction in Yena’s eyes was unforgettable as her pussy milked you dry, aching for more as you shared one final kiss, struggling to remember where you were. You crashed together on top of the tortured mattress, sweaty bodies stacked together as you rested inside her warmth, spent and depleted of stamina as you kissed the shoulders, neck, and upper back of the woman who you just had the most exhausting and satisfying sex with.

“That...was...amazing…” Yena said, syllables difficult to form as much as the depleted air in her lungs. Once you came back to your senses, you gradually withdrew your cock from her freshly fucked pussy, watching as your thick milky load stained her pink splayed lips and thighs, introducing itself to her expensive bed sheets.

When it was all said and done you found yourself underneath Yena’s tired and sweaty body, trying to fix the messy strands of her disheveled hair as the idea of moving a muscle felt impossible.

“You okay?” you asked, hoping you weren’t too rough on the young girl, finding stringing a sentence together in your post orgasm haze a foreign concept.

“I’ve never been better.”

                                                       ✦✦

Detective Kwon twirled her pen repeatedly as she looked over the multi-page report on her desk from security analyst Choi Yena. Several things had happened over the course of the past six hours that Eunbi involuntarily skipped lunch, only able to fit in a few granola bars and a bottle of water. While some of the terminology stated wasn’t familiar to her, she got the gist of and signed off on the necessary security upgrades, routine password changes, and additional security staff employed around the more vulnerable areas of the precinct.

Eunbi grew endlessly frustrated at the situation, finding the case at an impasse. She had investigated dozens of suspects and witnesses over the course of several weeks, all that energy put into a failed raid was causing her to lose faith in her job as head detective.

Taking a deep sigh Eunbi rested her head on her desk, trying to momentarily forget about the troubles of her job. Not even getting a few seconds of respite her phone rang, the vibration nearly causing it to fall off her no longer organized desk. She hesitated at first to answer, not only since it wasn’t usual for her to get calls after hours but also from a private number, ultimately choosing to answer at the last second.

“Detective Kwon speaking.”

“Detective...this phone call has been a long time coming.”

“Who is this? How did you get this number?”

“That’s not important. It seems your entire case has fallen apart at the seams hasn’t it? That’s rather unfortunate.”

“Listen here, whoever the hell you are I will find you and l-”

“Relax, detective. I’m not here to cause any more trouble than you already have. I’d like to offer you a deal.”

“I’m sorry but I’m not interested-”

“You’re trying to catch Patriarch Goda, isn't that correct, Detective? It seems like you’ve run low on luck lately.”

“I’m not at liberty to discuss any information pertaining to any of our ongoing cases. It’s all strictly confidential.”

“That’s too bad, then. I guess you won’t be interested in any information I have on the patriarch’s whereabouts.”

“I’m listening.”

“I can tell you everything you need to know. His hideouts, his clan members, I can even give you detailed information on his weapon supply. All I need is one thing in return.”

“And what exactly would that be?”

“You have two of my men in custody. Takabe-san and Kasuga-san. They haven’t been formally charged with any crimes if my research is correct.”

“I’ve already told you I can’t discuss confidential information, especially over the phone.”

“Then let’s speak hypothetically. If there were any men arrested under those names, were they to be released I have information to use at your will regarding Patriarch Goda.”

“How do I know this information is accurate?”

“I’ll send one of Goda’s hideouts free of charge as a gesture of goodwill. When both of my men have been released I’ll give you everything you need about him, what you do with that information is up to you, detective.”

“Why would you give up this information in trade? Are these men that important to you?”

“Loyalty is important, and these men have been loyal to me since day one. I find the patriarch’s methods detestable and I’ve seen too much unnecessary bloodshed under his command. I wish to take over his clan and become the new patriarch.”

“That sounds very ambitious. I’m not exactly convinced about this.”

“What choice do you have, detective? You don’t exactly have many options at this point I gather?”

“Fine. Your men haven’t done anything to be charged with anyways.”

“Good choice, detective. I’ll give you twenty-four hours to release my men, bring them to the pier by the northern highway at midnight. Come alone.“

Eunbi didn’t have a chance to respond when the caller on the other end hung up, Whoever it was was right, she didn’t have many options at this point.

                                                        ✦✦

“This is clearly a setup, Detective Kwon. It all sounds too good to be true,” said Sakura, the worry in her eyes visible as the sun was bright.

“I’d have to agree, it sounds like the perfect opportunity for a trap.”

“I appreciate the concern, but I’ll be fine. I can take care of myself. If they try anything I can distract them with these,” Eunbi said, grabbing two handfuls of her large breasts as she flashed a cheeky smile.

“We’ll have a small backup team nearby as a precaution.”

“If you really think that’s necessary, but make sure you stay far away. I don’t want them to get spooked.”

“Of course, detective.”

“This is our second chance. Let’s not waste it.”

[bugsyfics]

The Flower Who Bloomed (Part 2)

Undertaker x Reader

Fandom: BB

Summary: Undertaker requests for another visit with Y/N despite the conflict he is causing. Like Undertaker said, “once a lie is unraveled, the truth comes tumbling forth” —and so it does.

Warnings: Smut/notsfw, some serious teasing

Word Count: 1.8k

————•————•————•————•————•————•————•————

After you leave Undertaker’s shop, dress slightly disheveled and hair every which way, there’s no doubt that you have been absolutely ravished. With one good stare it is obvious what activities you were previously involved in. But even as you walk aimlessly around town to find a carriage in the brisk fall air, Undertaker’s words still play in your head.

•••

“Do not tell anyone about our little encounter, dear. He wouldn’t —they wouldn’t be very happy,” Undertaker spoke low, biting his tongue.

Undertaker phoned the earl, informing him he had seen you trip on the sidewalk, and tended to your twisted ankle. While that was a great excuse, nothing could get past Sebastian and you knew he would try to put the pieces together.

“Come here before you leave, my little flower,” Undertaker motioned to you, “I want to see you again soon. How does next week sound?”

You were unsure after the mess you got yourself into, but you just couldn’t say no to him.

•••

Fortunately when you arrive, no one is at the entryway to greet you, so you quickly walk to your bedroom. As you hum to yourself, changing into your nightgown, a knock at the door startles you. You slowly open the door to the hallway.

“Let me see your ankle, Y/N,” Sebastian says plainly. “It won’t take long. I need to check if it’s sprained.”

You smile wearily and sit on your bed holding out your leg. Sebastian grabs your ankle gingerly and observes it for much longer than you would like. After wrapping it with gauze, he looks beside himself, eyeing a pile of your clothes. “I can take those down to the laundry for you.”

“N-no! U-um I mean… it’s my job anyway,” you stammer and smile at him awkwardly.

“I insist, Y/N. You shouldn’t be walking at least for a couple days.”

Sebastian goes to pick up your clothing and you sweat nervously, aware that your soiled undergarments are stashed between your dress. Of course he wouldn’t say anything because it would be ungentleman-like, but the idea of him finding your ruined panties swallows you whole.

•••

Some days pass and surprisingly no one brings up the glaring flaws in your excuse. Though Sebastian has been observing you more often and it’s clear he’s on to you.

Instead of letting your curiosity eat away at you, you decide to ask Sebastian a question only he can answer. You stand in the doorway of the kitchen as he prepares dinner and clear your throat. “Good afternoon! I have a quick question about something that crossed my mind recently. It may sound a bit strange.”

Sebastian looks up at you and wipes his hands on the towel laid across his shoulder. You notice the slightest smirk cross his lips as he nods for you to continue. “Is it possible that the Percy twins were killed by something inhuman?” You watch as he raises his eyebrows in amusement. “For instance, like in the tales where a supernatural being eats innocent children.”

“Where did this come from all of a sudden? I thought you didn’t believe in those silly tales,” Sebastian prys.

“W-well I don’t… There’s just no other way to explain it. There aren’t any witnesses and the way they were so brutally killed…” you falter from your rambling.

“Did you need evidence to believe in the Church, or was it just second nature for you?”

“I guess it was second nature.”

“Exactly, Y/N. So why question yourself, if what you believe is the only plausible explanation?”

You never thought about it that way. Undertaker wasn’t wrong when he said Sebastian knew all about the supernatural. Though at first glance you wouldn’t think this butler in black would be knowledgeable of such topics. You thank him and turn to leave, but notice a glow cross his orbs and you do a double take, unsure if what you saw was only your imagination.

•••

Here you are back in town the next afternoon to run some errands. Young Master warned you to be more careful and to pay attention to the time so you didn’t have another mishap. You expected his tone to be much harsher, though he is more mindful of what he says to you, since you are his youngest servant.

You cross off the last reminder on your list, smiling to yourself. The timepiece reads a quarter to one and you’re expected to arrive back at 3, giving you a little over two hours to spare. A jittery feeling starts in your belly when you hear the bell chime as you enter. Yet again, Undertaker is nowhere to be seen, so you call out to him.

“Hello? Sir, it’s Y/N.”

It’s eerily silent as you walk further in. You sit your bags down on his desk carefully and decide to call him once more. “Hel—” you gasp, feeling icy hands cover your eyes.

“It’s me, dearie,” Undertaker whispers in your ear, causing goosebumps to raise over your body. You eventually relax into him and pull his hands from your face.

“You scared me,” you giggle and turn towards him.

Undertaker’s hat is gone and his hair is pinned back as he stands simply wearing both a black long sleeved shirt and pants. His bangs still fall into his eyes, and you can’t help but feel bubbly. He grins at you, rubbing your arm lightly. “It’s only been a week and I’m craving you, my little flower.”

He rubs circles on your hip and leans down to kiss you, but pauses above your lips. “Oh how I crave you... but you told our little secret, didn’t you?”

“No. I promise I kept my word, sir,” you shake your head.

He presses you onto his desk and runs his fingers up your spine, until he reaches the back of your neck, gripping it firmly. “That is what you say, but how can I be so sure, poppet? I had an unlikely visitor last night, you see. Hehe, I didn’t think you would turn around and disobey me like this.”

“I swear, I can prove it to you!”

It never crossed your mind that perhaps this visitor was Sebastian. You were too worked up to even notice that minor detail.

“Well, show me you’re innocent, love. Then I’ll believe you,” Undertaker orders curtly and pulls away.

You unfold your arms and reach behind yourself undoing your gown, letting it fall freely and the cool air causes your exposed nipples to harden. Undertaker reaches up to caress one of your breasts fondly, toying at your small bud. “How exactly does this prove anything, love?”

The truth was, you were innocent, but your mistake was letting Sebastian take your clothes. He never once impeded on your privacy nor searched through your garments. To him your arousal was just strong enough to detect and he didn’t condone a Phantomhive maid being intimate with a close ally of the Young Master. Sebastian was aware that Undertaker often revealed much more than he should and your little involvement threatened the trust he had with the earl.

Naive as you were, you knew that giving yourself up to Undertaker once more would not only distract him from finger pointing, but also allow you to feel his hands touching your body again.

You shrug at Undertaker, biting back a moan as continues his assault on your swollen peaks. He stops to wrap his arms around you, rutting his clothed hard on against your bare pussy. One of his hands travels down your back while the other rakes through his light bangs hastily. You watch him with wide eyes as he reveals a hard stare and you gulp, wondering what his next move will be. “Do you remember what I taught you last week? Something that I said before ravishing you.”

You shake your head. There was certainly more than just one thing that you considered to be a lesson.

He laughs in a shallow manner and wags a finger at you, “Once a lie is unraveled… the truth comes tumbling forth, my little flower.” He pauses for a moment to pinch your nipples, causing you to whimper. “Sebastian knows.”

Your mouth falls open, but for two reasons: you can’t believe that Sebastian would go to such lengths to find you out and also at that very moment Undertaker brushes across your clit, spreading your slick with his fingers. He eagerly teases you in every way possible, practically making you drip onto the floor.

“W-wait! H-how would he—”

Undertaker grunts, putting his fingers to his lips to taste you. He takes his time sucking each finger as if he devoured an entire meal, savoring your sweetness.

“He could sense it —your arousal— after you returned.”

“Sense it how? He must have snooped through my clothes,” you scoff.

Undertaker shakes his head, rolling his eyes at you, “Have you not gotten it, love? The butler is a demon.”

He places his hands beside you, leaning onto your much smaller frame. His nose ghosts over your ear as he speaks, “He popped by last night, apparently not very happy about us having it away. Hehe, I guess your arousal exposed us, dearie. Right now I shouldn’t be here touching you the way I am —I was warned. But you make me drool with anticipation for your delicate flower.”

Undertaker grins, his face visibly brightens. His hands grab on your hips, even after revealing this shocking information. His grip is possessive, trapping you against himself as he hums into your neck. You love every bit of how he is holding you and you want this feeling to last, but how could Undertaker remain so unbothered?

He whispers, telling you he is ready to take you once again. Though when he pulls away and his face comes into view, your heart starts to race, heavily unsettled. You notice the same glow in his eyes as Sebastian’s, but there is a different gleam lying behind them. You knew at that moment why Undertaker was so infactuated with telling you about other beings, and specifically Sebastian. He certainly isn’t human either.

Undertaker is utterly amused as he watches your eyes widen just as his cock slips deep inside you. He sees that you connected the dots to his secret and he chuckles. “What is wrong my little flower? Have you figured out my age yet? Or is it too many centuries to count on your fingers?” He grabs your hand and places a kiss along your knuckles with a sly grin.

————•————•————•————•————•————•————•————

— bugs

Taglist: @second-weeb-chick

[howelljenkins]

As a muslim Iraqi American with a significant tumblr following, I feel as though I should let it be known exactly where I stand when it comes to Riordan’s statement about Samirah. I have copied and pasted it down below and my reaction to it will be written down below. This will be the first time I have read it. If you want to engage with me or tell me that I’m wrong, I expect you to be a muslim, hijabi, Iraqi American, and from Baghdad. If you are not, I suggest you sit down and keep quiet because you are not the authority on the way I should be represented.

Like many of my characters, Samirah was inspired by former students of mine. Over the course of my middle school teaching career, I worked with dozens of Muslim students and their families, representing the expanse of the Muslim world and both Shia and Sunni traditions. One of my most poignant memories about the September 11, 2001, attack of the World Trade Center was when a Muslima student burst into tears when she heard the news – not just because it was horrific, but also because she knew what it meant for her, her family, her faith. She had unwillingly become an ambassador to everyone she knew who, would have questions about how this attack happened and why the perpetrators called themselves “Muslim.” Her life had just become exponentially more difficult because of factors completely beyond her control. It was not right. It was not fair. And I wasn’t sure how to comfort or support her.

Starting off your statement with one of the most traumatic events in history for muslim Americans is already one of the most predictably bad moves he could pull. By starting off this way, you are acknowledging the fact that a) this t*rrorist attack is still the first thing you think of when you think of muslims and b) that those muslim students who you had prior to 9/11 occupied so little space in your mind that it took a national disaster for you to start to even try to empathize with them.

During the following years, I tried to be especially attuned to the needs of my Muslim students. I dealt with 9/11 the same way I deal with most things: by reading and learning more. When I taught world religions in social studies, I would talk to my Muslim students about Islam to make sure I was representing their experience correctly. They taught me quite a bit, which eventually contributed to my depiction of Samirah al-Abbas. As always, though, where I have made mistakes in my understanding, those mistakes are wholly on me.

As always, you have chosen to use “I based this character off my students” in order to justify the way they are written. News flash: you taught middle school children. Children who are already scrutinized and alienated and desperate to fit in. Of course their words shouldn’t be enough for you to decide you are representing them correctly, because they are still coming to terms with their identities and they are doing this in an environment where they are desperate to find the approval of white Americans. I know that as a child I would often tweak the way I explained my culture and religion to my teachers in order to gain their approval and avoid ruffling any feathers. They told you what they thought you’d want to hear because you are their teacher and hold a position of power over them and they both want your approval and want to avoid saying the wrong thing and having that hang over their heads every time they enter your classroom.

What did I read for research? I have read five different English interpretations of the Qur’an. (I understand the message is inseparable from the original Arabic, so it cannot be considered ‘translated’). I have read the entirety of the Sahih Bukhari and Sahih Muslim hadith collections. I’ve read three biographies of Prophet Muhammed (peace be upon him) and well over a dozen books about the history of Islam and modern Islam. I took a six-week course in Arabic. (I was not very good at it, but I found it fascinating). I fasted the month of Ramadan in solidarity with my students. I even memorized some of the surahs in Arabic because I found the poetry beautiful. (They’re a little rusty now, I’ll admit, but I can still recite al-Fātihah from memory.) I also read some anti-Islamic screeds written in the aftermath of 9/11 so I would understand what those commenters were saying about the religion, and indirectly, about my students. I get mad when people attack my students.

And yet here you are actively avoiding the criticism from those of us who could very well have been the children sitting in your classroom. 

The Quran is so deep and complex that its meanings are still being discovered to this day. Yes, reading these old scripts is a must for writing muslim characters, but you cannot claim to understand them without also holding active discussions with current scholars on how the Quran’s teachings apply today.

When preparing to write Samirah’s background, I drew on all of this, but also read many stories on Iraqi traditions and customs in particular and the experiences of immigrant families who came to the U.S. I figured out how Samirah’s history would intertwine with the Norse world through the medieval writer Ahmad ibn Fadhlan, her distant ancestor and one of the first outsiders to describe the Vikings in writing.  I knew Samirah would be a ferocious brave fighter who always stood for what was right. She would be an excellent student who had dreams of being an aviator. She would have a complicated personal situation to wrestle with, in that she’s a practicing Muslim who finds out Valhalla is a real place. Odin and Thor and Loki are still around. How do you reconcile that with your faith? Not only that, but her mom had a romance with Loki, who is her dad. Yikes.

First of all, writing this paragraph in the same tone you use to emulate a 12 year old is already disrespectful. “Yikes” is correct. You have committed serious transgressions and can’t even commit to acting serious and writing like the almost 60 year old man that you are. Tone tells the reader a lot, and your tone is telling me that you are explaining your mistakes the same way you tell your little stories: childishly and jokingly. 

Stories are not enough. They are not and never will be. Stories cannot even begin to pierce the rich culture and history and customs of Iraq. Iraq itself is not even homogenous enough for you to rely on these “Iraqi” stories. Someone’s story from Najaf is completely unique from someone from Baghdad or Nasriyyah or Basrah or Mosul. Add that to the fact that these stories are written with a certain audience in mind and you realize that there’s no way they can tell the whole story because at their core they are catering to a specific audience.

Yes, those are good, but they are meaningless without you consulting an actual Baghdadi and asking specific questions. You made conclusions and assumptions based on these stories when the obvious way to go was to consult someone from Baghdad every step of the writing process. Instead, you chose to trust the conclusions that you (a white man) drew from a handful of stories. Who are you to convey a muslim’s internal struggle when you did not even do the bare minimum and have an actual muslim read over your words?

Thankfully, the feedback from Muslim readers over the years to Samirah al-Abbas has been overwhelmingly positive. I have gotten so many letters and messages online from young fans, talking about how much it meant to them to see a hijabi character portrayed in a positive light in a ‘mainstream’ novel.

Yeah. Because we’re desperate, and half of them are children still developing their sense of self and critical reading skills. A starving man will thank you for moldy bread but that does not negate the mold. 

Some readers had questions, sure! The big mistake I will totally own, and which I have apologized for many times, was my statement that during the fasting hours of Ramadan, bathing (i.e. total immersion in water) was to be avoided. This was advice I had read on a Shia website when I myself was preparing to fast Ramadan. It is advice I followed for the entire month. Whoops! The intent behind that advice, as I understood it, was that if you totally immersed yourself during daylight hours, you might inadvertently get some water between your lips and invalidate your fast. But, as I have since learned, that was simply one teacher’s personal opinion, not a widespread practice. We have corrected this detail (which involved the deletion of one line) in future editions, but as I mentioned in my last post, you will still find it in copies since the vast majority of books are from the first printing.

This is actually really embarrassing for you and speaks to your lack of research and reading comprehension. It is true that for shia, immersion breaks one’s fast. If you had bothered to actually ask questions and use common sense, you would realize that this is referring to actions like swimming, where one’s whole body is underwater, rather than bathing. Did you not question the fact that the same religion that encourages the cleansing of oneself five times a day banned bathing during the holiest month? Yes, it was one teacher’s opinion, but you literally did not even take the time to fully understand that opinion before chucking it into your book.

Another question was about Samirah’s wearing of the hijab. To some readers, she seemed cavalier about when she would take it off and how she would wear it. It’s not my place to be prescriptive about proper hijab-wearing. As any Muslim knows, the custom and practice varies greatly from one country to another, and from one individual to another. I can, however, describe what I have seen in the U.S., and Samirah’s wearing of the hijab reflects the practice of some of my own students, so it seemed to be within the realm of reason for a third-generation Iraqi-American Muslima. Samirah would wear hijab most of the time — in public, at school, at mosque. She would probably but not always wear it in Valhalla, as she views this as her home, and the fallen warriors as her own kin. This is described in the Magnus Chase books. I also admit I just loved the idea of a Muslima whose hijab is a magic item that can camouflage her in times of need.

Before I get into this paragraph, Samirah is second generation. Her grandparents immigrated from Iraq. Her mother was first gen.

Once again, you turn to what you have seen from your students, who are literal children. They are in middle school while Samirah is in high school, so they are very obviously at different stages of development, both emotional and religious. If you had bothered to talk to adults who had gone through these stages, you would understand that often times young girls have stages where they “practice” hijab or wear it “part time”, very often in middle school. However, both her age and the way in which you described Samirah lead the reader to believe that she is a “full timer,” so you playing willy nilly with her scarf as a white man is gross.

For someone who claims to have read all of these religious texts, it’s funny that you choose to overlook the fact that “kin” is very specifically described. Muslims do not go around deciding who they consider “kin” or “family” to take off their hijab in front of. There is no excuse for including this in her character, especially since you claim to have carefully read the Quran and ahadith.

You have no place to “just love” any magical extension of the hijab until you approach it with respect. Point blank period. Especially when you have ascribed it a magical property that justifies her taking it on and off like it’s no big deal, especially when current media portrayals of hijab almost always revolve around it being removed. You are adding to the harmful portrayal and using your “fun little magic camoflauge” to excuse it.

As for her betrothal to Amir Fadhlan, only recently have I gotten any questions about this. My understanding from my readings, and from what I have been told by Muslims I know, is that arranged marriages are still quite common in many Muslim countries (not just Muslim countries, of course) and that these matches are sometimes negotiated by the families when the bride-to-be and groom-to-be are quite young. Prior to writing Magnus Chase, one of the complaints I often heard or read from Muslims is how Westerners tend to judge this custom and look down on it because it does not accord with Western ideas. Of course, arranged marriages carry the potential for abuse, especially if there is an age differential or the woman is not consulted. Child marriages are a huge problem. The arrangement of betrothals years in advance of the marriage, however, is an ancient custom in many cultures, and those people I know who were married in this way have shared with me how glad they were to have done it and how they believe the practice is unfairly villainized. My idea with Samirah was to flip the stereotype of the terrible abusive arranged match on its head, and show how it was possible that two people who actually love each other dearly might find happiness through this traditional custom when they have families that listen to their concerns and honor their wishes, and want them to be happy. Amir and Samirah are very distant cousins, yes. This, too, is hardly unusual in many cultures. They will not actually marry until they are both adults. But they have been betrothed since childhood, and respect and love each other. If that were not the case, my sense is that Samirah would only have to say something to her grandparents, and the match would be cancelled. Again, most of the comments I have received from Muslim readers have been to thank me for presenting traditional customs in a positive rather than a negative light, not judging them by Western standards. In no way do I condone child marriage, and that (to my mind) is not anywhere implied in the Magnus Chase books.

I simply can’t even begin to explain everything that is wrong with this paragraph. Here is a good post about how her getting engaged at 12 is absolutely wrong religiously and would not happen. Add that on to the fact that Samirah herself is second-generation (although Riordan calls her third generation in this post) and this practice isn’t super common even in first generation people (and for those that it DOES apply to, it is when they are old enough to be married and not literal children). 

As a white man you can’t flip the stereotype. You can’t. Even with tons of research you cannot assume the authority to “flip” a stereotype that does not affect you because you will never come close to truly understanding it inside and out. Instead of flipping a stereotype, Rick fed into it and provided more fodder to the flames and added on to it to make it even worse.

I would be uncomfortable with a white author writing about arranged marriages in brown tradition no matter the context, but for him to offhandedly include it in a children’s book where it is badly explained and barely touched on is inexcusable. Your target audience is children who will no doubt overlook your clumsy attempt at flipping stereotypes.

It does not matter what your mind thinks you are implying. Rick Riordan is not your target audience, children are. So you cannot brush this away by stating that you did not see the harm done by your writing. You are almost 60 years old. Maybe you can read in between your lines, but I guarantee your target audience largely cannot.

Finally, recently someone on Twitter decided to screenshot a passage out-of-context from Ship of the Deadwhere Magnus hears Samirah use the phrase “Allahu Akbar,” and the only context he has ever heard it in before was in news reports when some Western reporter would be talking about a terrorist attack. Here is the passage in full:

Samirah: “My dad may have power over me because he’s my dad. But he’s not the biggest power. Allahu akbar.”

I knew that term, but I’d never heard Sam use it before. I’ll admit it gave me an instinctive jolt in the gut. The news media loved to talk about how terrorists would say that right before they did something horrible and blew people up. I wasn’t going to mention that to Sam. I imagined she was painfully aware.

She couldn’t walk the streets of Boston in her hijab most days without somebody screaming at her to go home, and (if she was in a bad mood) she’d scream back, “I’m from Dorchester!”

“Yeah,” I said. “That means God is great, right?”

Sam shook her head. “That’s a slightly inaccurate translation. It means God is greater.”

“Than what?”

“Everything. The whole point of saying it is to remind yourself that God is greater than whatever you are facing—your fears, your problems, your thirst, your hunger, your anger.

337-338

To me, this is Samirah educating Magnus, and through him the readers, about what this phrase actually means and the religious significance it carries. I think the expression is beautiful and profound. However, like a lot of Americans, Magnus has grown up only hearing about it in a negative context from the news. For him to think: “I had never heard that phrase, and it carried absolutely no negative connotations!” would be silly and unrealistic. This is a teachable moment between two characters, two friends who respect each other despite how different they are. Magnus learns something beautiful and true about Samirah’s religion, and hopefully so do the readers. If that strikes you as Islamophobic in its full context, or if Samirah seems like a hurtful stereotype . . . all I can say is I strongly disagree.

I will give you some credit here in that I mostly agree with this scene. The phrase does carry negative connotations with many white people and I do not fault you for explaining it the way you did. However, don’t try to sneak in that last sentence like we won’t notice. You have no place to decide whether or not Samirah’s character as a whole is harmful and stereotypical. 

It is 2 am and that is all I have the willpower to address. This is messy and this is long and this is not well worded, but this had to be addressed. I do not speak for every muslim, both world wide and within this online community, but these were my raw reactions to his statement. I have been working on and will continue to work on a masterpost of Samirah Al-Abbas as I work through the books, but for now, let it be known that Riordan has bastardized my identity and continues to excuse himself and profit off of enforcing harmful stereotypes. Good night.

[ddarker-dreams]

anon asked: OMG pls pls pls could you write a possessive yandere Diluc??? I'm sorry if this is generic...

[repost because someone mentioned this post wasn’t showing up in tags... tumblr i s2g...]

Diluc:

Diluc has seen the worst and best that humanity has to offer. Regrettably, the worst is what has made a lasting impression, darkness waiting to strike in every crevice. He’s always done his best to protect everyone. This is amplified to a new, unprecedented level when his obsession for you takes root.

There are plenty of threats to be wary of -- Diluc will reason -- but he starts actively looking for them in the wrong places. No longer is he concerned with just making sure you get home safe, unbothered by monsters. Now it starts to seep into your relationships. Innocent gestures are mistaken as malevolent, Diluc stepping in where it’s wholly unnecessary.

Compared to most yanderes, Diluc has commendable self-control. He won’t openly lash out to anyone that speaks to you in a friendly manner. That doesn’t mean he’s not upset about it, he’s just used to hiding his emotions, and has had lots of practice suppressing everything. So while others chat you up, romantic intentions or not, he’ll slink off to sulk.

Surprise surprise, it’s Kaeya who catches onto this hidden behavior before anyone else can. Kaeya actively exacerbates the situation, quite literally adding fuel to the fire, unaware of the monster he’s awakening in the process. To his credit, Kaeye’s intentions would be in good fun. Maybe for some lighthearted teasing to laugh about later over drinks with you and your friends. Instead, he released a burden onto your life.

Kaeya might let a friend or two into Diluc’s “crush” on you, planning to see how far they can push it. He’ll throw an arm around your shoulder, whisper inside jokes into your ear to make you giggle, offer to walk you home, etc. Diluc begins to excuse himself from the room when this happens to get a hold of his kindling fury. Diluc knows Kaeya is just trying to get a rise from him, that he’s giving him what he wants. But god, that twisting sensation in his stomach when Kaeya is the one touching you, getting that melodic laugh, and being the center of your attention... it’s unbearable.

Diluc feels like it’s such a shame. He’s a busy man, so being around the same areas as you is a rare treat, that’s now being tainted. Can he not have this single enjoyment in life? To make matters worse, he’s now hyper-aware of anyone possibly flirting with you. Diluc is growing paranoid that while he’s unsure of how to pursue you, someone else might come along and take you away.

While trying to provoke Diluc, Kaeya tends to be on the receiving end of some biting language. With an unimpressed expression and even tone, Diluc will tear into him for his obnoxious behavior, even if you express that you don’t mind. It’s remarkable he’s managed to control his darker urges for this long. Should Kaeya -- or anyone else for that matter -- not get the hint, Diluc lists some concealed threats.

He’ll start physically blocking anyone’s path to you, looming over almost like a bodyguard. Diluc’s presence is intimidating and effective in warding off people he finds irritating. He’ll act like he doesn’t know what you’re talking about if you mention how close he is, but there’s an almost indiscernible blush on his cheeks.

While you’re not paying attention, Diluc will motion to his weapon, scaring off anyone brave enough to come speak to you. When you turn around he’s back to wiping down glasses. If he needs to distract you, he’ll offer free drinks, not that he ever makes you pay anyway. The few times you do manage to convince him to let you pay for your own tab, the money is “mysteriously” sent back to your residence by mail.

Bonus Childe:

Childe is not held back by the same moral qualms that Diluc is. This, mixed with the extensive network of Fatui agents at his fingertips, makes for a horrific combination. It’s a disaster waiting to happen. Whether you’re aware of it or not, he’s already having people keep tabs on you. This includes people that you speak to as well. While the Fatui don’t entirely understand why they’re being asked to watch you, like hell they’re going to question a Harbinger on the bizarre orders.

You’ll be having a pleasant conversation with someone, only to feel a shadow looming over you. Then there’ll be an arm wrapped firmly around your shoulder. Childe would act dismissive of whoever you were speaking to, making up some excuse about why he needs your attention more and whisking you away. All the while looking back and giving the unfortunate individual a soul-shaking look.

He projects a lot into your conversations. Childe asks with a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes if you’re trying to make him jealous. “As much as I like you -- and trust me when I say I do -- you should be careful with that.”

Anyone who makes the mistake of flirting with you gets it far worse. Childe will judge them accordingly later when being filled in on your movements for the day, sitting and listening with an eerie calm as his agents detail the person’s description. There’s a myriad of ways the Fatui could make this person’s life a living hell. From the shackles of debt tightening, harassment, to even making them disappear entirely. It all depends on Childe’s mood that day.

Childe would actually find it interesting if the person has a Vision themselves. He views it as a challenge of sorts. Malice would be oozing out of him at the thought of proving his strength to you, that no one else could come close to the claim he has. To avoid any unwanted attention, Childe would wait to strike until the person is traveling alone, channeling his Delusion alongside his Vision. It’d be an awful sight.

When he talks to you next, you’ll notice he looks oddly content. If you’re brave enough to ask why this is, he’ll give some ominous answer, that leaves your body going cold. “Hm, I really need to know. Did you think that they were any match for me? That by batting your eyelashes all prettily, you’d convince them to get rid of me? Well, whatever the case, this should be proof I’m not going anywhere.”

Childe will mention that he even was kind enough to get you a gift. A Fatui agent will reach into their bag, giving him a piece of cloth, which he then pretends to you. You’ll likely be rendered sick by the sight. It’s a torn piece of their outfit, a testimony to Childe’s victory. He’ll tilt his head and playfully ask if you don’t like it, before taking his leave for the night.

If you ever plead with him to leave the people you interact with alone, he might look like he’s giving it some thought. Childe’s suggestion of how you could convince him to do this is equally unpleasant.

“You could always spend your time with me, that way this wouldn’t be an issue. Give it some real thought. I’m looking forward to hearing your answer.”

[fanmoose12]

a small thing i've written, a companion piece to the devil you know. doesn't really takes place during the timeline of that fic, but i just liked the idea so much (thanks @unrelenting-jazz-hands smh) that still decided to write it! slight nsfw ahead!

If that was one of Armin's jokes, it was a terrible one.

Watch over him while I figure out what to do, he said, as though Levi could look at that monster without feeling like running through something - or better yet, someone- with a sword.

"Can I ask you a personal question, Captain?" the beast asked from his place inside the cell. Levi answered him with a deadly glare that Zeke simply ignored. He was getting too comfortable around him, the bastard.

"I know you and Professor Hange had quite a history, but I’ve always wondered…" the fucker smirked, and Levi's hands instinctively curled into fists. "Was it strictly platonic? If so, I must say it’s quite a loss on your part. She’s very good in bed."

Levi reacted instantly.

The asshole stood too close to the bars that separated them. Big mistake. Levi grabbed him by the collar, bringing the beast down to his eye level. Zeke choked, his eyes open wide.

"You think our so called alliance means something to me? I’ve agreed to keep you alive, but that doesn’t mean I can’t hurt you. And if I hear her name coming out of your shitty mouth one more time, beast, you'll be gathering your bones all over this cell. I hope I made myself clear enough. I hate repeating the obvious."

He threw him on the ground, and the sight of Zeke looking so miserable with his ass on the floor almost lifted his sour mood.

Almost because the fucker's words were still ringing in his ears.

He had no reason to care, she certainly didn't, but god, did Zeke's words strike a chord. He needed... he needed to take a deep breath. Clear his head, get his thoughts into order.

He marched out of the murky dungeon, leaving Zeke's cell behind.

Subconsciously, because his mind was his biggest offender, so very soon Levi found himself standing in front of another cell.

Jean was inside, discussing something with her in hushed tones.

This almost made him stop - the hell Kirshtein was doing there? Didn't he use to despise her? Wasn't he the one who shouted 'fucking betrayer' the loudest?

Didn't matter, not now. Now the only thing that mattered—

"Get out, Kirshtein," he yanked the boy upwards, his eyes never leaving those deep brown ones.

"Captain—"

"Get. Out." he growled. "And make sure no one comes in here. I need to have a chat with our prisoner. A very long one. "

"Captain, I—"

"Hurry up, Kirshtein," he reminded, shifting his gaze for a second to glare at him.

Jean seemed unsure, Jean seemed scared, but he didn't dare to disobey.

He threw a cautious look to Hange, and she gave him a kind smile, silently telling him that she had everything under control.

It was cute of her to think this way. It was also very wrong.

All thirty two seconds it took Jean to leave the dungeons, Levi didn't take his eyes of her. Hange stared right back, completely unsuspecting. Or, maybe - more probably - daring beyond realms of sanity.

As soon as he heard the door closed, Levi moved. He lifted her from the chair she was sitting on, slamming her hips against the table. The old wood creaked, and somewhere at the back of his mind he wondered if the shitty furniture would break under their weight. Even if it did, it wasn't enough to make him stop.

He grabbed the back of her head, burying his fingers in her hair, and kissed her. The kiss was rough, aggressive and deep. Hange answered with the same vigor, pulling him even closer.

It shouldn’t have felt as good as it did. But having her back in his arms made him feel whole.

The place, where she had put her hands, burned. Her touch was just as intoxicating, just as invigorating as he remembered. It almost made him forget. It made pretending almost possible.

If he just turned off the sensible part of his brain, he could pretend that everything was fine. They weren't making out on a rackety table in a dusty dungeon inside a prison cell where Hange was put for betraying them.

No, they were in her room, and he had come to distract Hange away from work and catch up on all the time they’ve been too busy to see each other.

Gripping her waist tighter, he could almost pretend that he was angry at her for making him feel neglected, not betraying him and having his heart ripped out and smashed into million pieces.

"Does he make you feel so good?" he demanded to know, moving down to bite at the spot he knew made her tremble.

"Wh- what-"

She was already stuttering, already breathing hard against him. Good, he was almost satisfied.

But after four years of trying to hate and despise her, after four years of yearning for her, he needed more.

"Does he?" he repeated, taking his lips of her for a second to stare into her eyes.

"No," Hange breathed out. With fingers that had no right to be so gentle, she cradled his face. "No one made me feel as good as you did, Levi."

Fuck.

He wanted to hate her, he thought he did, but just the sound of his voice on her lips, and he was coming undone.

"Say it again," he whispered, his voice muffled by her shoulder. He meant for it to come out as an order. It sounded more like a plea instead.

"What?" she asked, her fingers softly playing with his hair.

"My name," he closed his eyes. Her scent, her touch, her voice - it was all too much. "Say it again."

"Levi," Hange kissed him, starting with his lips then moving lower, forcing him to throw back his head and press his lips together. "Levi," she murmured against the skin of his neck. "Le-"

He didn't let her finish. His lips on hers prevented it. It was time to take some of the control back.

He straddled her hips, making a slight rocking motion.

Hange reacted to it instantly. "Levi."

The way she moaned it - it was enough to make him moan too.

"God, I missed this," she hummed, as he nipped at her neck.

Levi froze, moving up to look her in the eyes. "You did?" the question stumbled from his lips before he could stop himself.

He knew Hange most certainly didn't mean it. People tended to say stupid things during heat of the moment. It wasn't love that put those words out, it was lust. And as a child of a prostitute, raised in underground brothel, he knew very well that those things didn't always overlap.

Certainly not in their case.

"Of course, I did," Hange answered. She tugged at his hair, stopping him from sucking a hickey on her collarbone. She made him look at her, and what he saw on her face was enough to break his heart for the thousandth times. Hange looked... Hange looked sincere. Hange looked like she meant it. Hange looked... Like she cared about him. "I missed you, Levi," she murmured, curving her lips in a smile.

It was the first smile he had seen on her face ever since she had left. The sight of it left him more breathless than their previous activities.

And they call us devils, he thought.

If he was the devil, then she was a witch.

How else to explain her ability to bewitch him like this?

He pushed her down onto the table, pressing her to the hard surface. Hange didn't seem to mind the rough treatment, if her moans and whimpers were any indication.

His hands roamed over her body, touching in all the right places, spots that made her even more desperate.

His name tumbled from her lips over and over again, making him dizzy.

He left bruises and bite marks whenever he touched. She wasn't his, never was, but, god, pretending that she was was extremely addicting.

Hange wasn't gentle as well. She grabbed, bit and sucked whatever part of skin Levi had allowed her to.

"Tell me, Levi," she left a wet kiss on his cheek, moving to his ear. "Did you do it with someone else while I was away?"

Witch.

He pushed her down again, flipping her over and pressing her face into the table.

"Shut your fucking mouth, Hange," he growled, covering her body with his. He grabbed her wrists, keeping them together. "Don't you dare to move."

Hange, like a fucking psycho she always pretended to be, started laughing.

"Levi!" she moaned, as he bit down on her shoulder. "We should do this more often!"

"This is the last time, four-eyes," he promised, subconsciously using the old, affectionate nickname.

Hange laughed again, turning her head around to give him a sly, knowing look.

"The last fucking time," he repeated.

He came back the very next day.

[tomurasprincess]

Villain Deku with 12. I’m so happy you finally wanted to take a picture with me! They can go right next to all of the ones of you sleeping.

Pairing: Villain Deku x Reader Quote: I’m so happy you finally wanted to take a picture with me! They can go right next to all of the ones of you sleeping. Word: Stalking Warnings: Noncon, drugging, stalking, manipulation, yandere

Prompt Masterlist

You smile at the green haired man in front of you as he orders his usual, a plain black cup of coffee. You’ve been a barista here for several months now, and the man has become one of your regular customers. Although somewhat shy and awkward, he is friendly and pleasant to talk to, and you have come to really look forward to his visits.

He gives you a small smile back as he reaches for a sugar packet, but otherwise makes no comment to you. You mentally frown at this, as he’s usually so overflowing with conversation that you can barely keep up.

“Hey, are you doing okay,” you venture to ask the question that’s making you worry for him a bit.

He perks up at the comment, eyes lighting up at your concern. “I’m okay, really! Just some problems with work.”

“Oh really? What work do you do?” Even though he’s a regular, coming in at the same time every day for weeks, you don’t really know a lot about him. You’re excited to finally have an opportunity to learn a bit more.

His gaze darkens just a bit, his smile fading slightly, so subtle that you’re not even sure you saw it. But then he’s back to normal and you realize that you must have imagined it. You’ve been a bit on edge lately, constantly feeling as if someone has been watching you. You’ve considered going to the police, but ultimately decided that they wouldn’t take you seriously.

“Oh, I run my own business. Things have been crazy lately, but I think I finally got them settled down. Now I have time to focus on my more personal projects.” He chuckles at that as he glances at you.

“I’m glad to hear that!” You smile at him before turning back to your work, beginning the long process of ending your shift. The man had shown up much later than usual, and it was almost closing time. At his questioning look, you explain yourself. “Oh, I have to get ready to close up the store. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t mean to walk back to your place in the dark, do you?” His face twists into a look of worry. “There are a lot of villains in the streets lately.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I walk home at this hour all the time. I’ll be fine,” you wave him off.

“No, I insist. I need to walk you home.” You’re surprised at the change in his tone. He suddenly sounds completely in control, no hint of the awkward man who sometimes stumbles over his sentences and mumbles to himself.

“I - I guess if it’s that important to you.” You suddenly didn’t feel comfortable at the idea of walking alone in the dark with him. Something was rubbing you the wrong way, and you weren’t sure what. But you had no reason to decline, and the man in front of you didn’t look threatening at all. So you accept the invitation. It might be nice to have company on your walk home, anyway. Maybe you’ll feel less like someone is following your every move.

“Good! I’d hate for you to get snatched up by some villain,” his bright smile turns slightly sharp. Dangerous looking. It’s enough to make you reconsider, but the man seems to notice your hesitation as he begins to rush you through your closing procedures of the store. He grabs your arm, not enough to harm you or bruise you, but hard enough that you couldn’t begin to get away.

As he almost drags you out of the store, you decide to make conversation to try and calm your nerves. “I’m sorry, I’ve been really rude. What’s your name?”

“You can call me Deku,” he chirps happily. The name strikes you as odd, somehow familiar. You can’t quite place it, no matter how hard you try.

You open your mouth to tell him your own name, but he cuts you off mid sentence. “You don’t have to tell me your name, I already know it.”

You freeze in place, mind running through so many scenarios of how he could know your name. “Don’t be nervous! It’s on your name tag.”

You relax just a bit, as you try to avoid thinking about how you lost your name tag several months ago and were never able to find it. Something is wrong about this man, and you know you made a mistake following him. You just want to get safely into your apartment, away from him, until you can figure out what to do.

But then it hits you. Your apartment. You never gave him directions to your apartment, and yet he’s following the exact path you take to get there, turn for turn. You’re unable to hide your panic now, mouth opening to scream for help. But you never have the chance.

A scarred hand clamps down on your mouth as he drags you into a nearby alleyway. He gives a long suffering sigh at you as you struggle to break free. You feel something cold press into your throat as he grins down at you, and you realize it’s a knife. “You just couldn’t behave a little longer, could you? It’s okay though! I have no problem doing this here.”

“Please stop, I don’t have anything you want,” you whimper in fear. The knife gently glides down your neck, pressure firm enough that you can feel it but not enough to cut. He pauses as he traces your collarbones with the weapon, and hums as if he just thought of something. “You know, I’ve always wanted a picture of you since the first day I met you.”

Your haste to get out of this situation overpowers how strange the request is, and you find yourself babbling your agreement. “Yes, you can have a picture of me, I don’t mind! Just please, let me go home.”

He laughs at that as a hand dips down into your pants. “Oh, that’s not all that I want.” He wastes no time sliding a finger in between your folds as he grazes your clit. He works tight circles against the bud, moaning into your ear as he begins to kiss and suck at the pulse point on your neck.

“I’ve wanted you for so long.” he murmurs in your ear. “But I’ve been so busy running my organization that I just didn’t have the time. Had to content myself with watching you from afar. Until now.”

It suddenly hits you like a bolt of lightning, where you heard his name. Izuku Midoriya, the fallen hero. He graduated from UA at the top of his class, was even expected to take All Might’s place as the Symbol of Peace. But he vanished without a trace. There had been rumors that he was sighted in areas of heavy villain activity, but they were dismissed as just that. Rumors. There was no way anyone chosen by All Might could go villain, after all.

And yet the proof stands pressed against you, fingers rubbing your throbbing clit as he bites and sucks at the skin of your neck. You can feel yourself getting aroused, lubricating his talented fingers with your juices. He gathers it on his fingers as he presses two of them inside of you, rubbing the bundle of nerves with the palm of his hand.

“No, oh god, please stop,” you plead with him. “Deku, just let me go, I promise I won’t - ahh - tell anyone I saw you.” You let out an involuntary groan as he thrusts his fingers inside of you, grazing your g spot with every thrust and making you see stars. You hate that you’re getting so aroused by him finger fucking you.

“Oh, did you finally figure out who I am?” He chuckles as he presses the point of his knife into your skin, barely grazing you but still causing your blood to drip down your collarbones. He eagerly laps at the blood as his fingers pick up the pace. You feel the coil inside of you tightening and realize you’re about to cum. “Deku, shit, oh god please.”

“Shh, just cum for me doll. Cum all over my fingers.” He coaxes you into an intense orgasm, causing you to let out a squeal as your walls clamp down hard around his fingers. You’re still riding the high of your climax when a slightly wet rag is placed over your mouth. Your eyes widen as you try not to breath in, but it’s too late. You inhale one sharp breath and your system is instantly being flooded with the clothform.

The effects are quick, too quick, as you feel yourself dragged down into unconsciousness. Your head feels like it’s in a fishbowl as you hear the click of a camera and Deku’s delighted laughter. “I’m so happy you finally wanted to take a picture with me! They can go right next to all of the ones of you sleeping!”

But before you completely pass out, you have the chance to think one last thing.

You really should have trusted your instincts.

✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

Tags: @thewheezingwyvern, @animewh0re, @monst, @lildreamer93, @marlowewrites, @redbeanteax, @kittygonyan, @bat-eclecticwolfbouquet-love, @daedaep69, @heyybrittannia, @groovydreamertrash, @hisoknen, @chou-maitresse, @shoutogepi, @togasknifes, @kingtamakimurder, @league-of-thots, @shigaraki-is-my-master

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Collared.

Pairing: Yandere!Malleus/Reader

Word Count: 3.5k

Synopsis: Malleus’ biggest mistake was treating you as a lover would, rather than as a captor. Unfortunately, his patience is limited, and he can only spend so much time waiting for you to adjust before he resorts to stricter methods.

TW: Graphic Violence, Burning, Mentions Of Blood, Implied Kidnapping, Prolonged Imprisonment, Unhealthy Relationships, Slight Bondage, Use Of Morally-Grey Magic, Emotional Manipulation, and Slight Victim-Blaming.

Your head was beginning to hurt.

It was the pressure, more than anything, the weight of a crown that you’d never wanted to wear, a crown that hadn’t been designed to accommodate someone without horns or wings or enough strength to make the strain bearable. It was a beautiful piece, objectively, a gift from a diplomat hoping to establish a relationship with Malleus shortly after his coronation, but the jewels were heavy, carved into ornate shapes and perched on top of needle-thin peaks, and although you’d been enthralled by the idea of wearing something that looked as delicate as ice, that swirled in impossible ways and curved angles human hands wouldn’t be able to attempt to achieve, the thin base dug into your scalp, and fashion in the Valley of Thorns was so layered, so limiting, the tiara only served as another annoyance you had to bear, another thing to push the air from your lungs and make your vision blur and force you onto the line between discomfort and active agony.

You’d tried to remove it while he met with his advisors, while Malleus spoke and all the attention was on him rather than his disagreeable human companion, but he’d caught you by the wrist the moment you tried, forcing your hand back into your lap before any of his courtiers could notice you’d move. He’d always been particular about the way you presented yourself, in front of him, in front of your subjects. It might’ve been because he took so much pride in doting on you, insisting on dressing you himself every morning and interpreting any refusal as willful disobedience. He might’ve just enjoyed making sure you were as aware of the power he had over you as he was. The latter was more likely, knowing the demeanor he’d taken on after he’d whisked you away to his kingdom, after he’d taken the throne and all the power in the county, with it. That would explain why he felt the need to keep an arm draped over your shoulders, now.

It would explain why he wouldn’t let go, despite your attempts to shake him off.

“They don’t mean you any harm,” He muttered, the voice kept low in order to escape the notice of his guards, trailing after him like ever-present shadows. “No one in this castle wants to see you suffer. You don’t have a reason to act as if they do.”

No one wanted to see you suffer, expect him. Malleus always seemed to forget that, when looking for the source of your irritation. “Everyone here treats me like your consort.”

There was a blink, then another. You could’ve groaned. “But, (Y/n), you are my consort--”

“Not because I want to be.” It was a hollow mantra, something you’d said time and time again. At your side, Malleus grimaced, and you tried to walk a little faster, fixing your eyes on the stone floor to avoid the concerned glances of the guards. “I’m a prisoner here, Malleus. Nothing you try to do will make me less of a prisoner, not when your methods are so…” You trailed off, letting out a heavy sigh. “Not when everything you do is so confining.”

“Everything I do, I do because I care for you,” He explained, taking on that indignant, scolding aire you’d always hated. He was never careless, but he’d never been so richeous, either. Not until he’d gotten an excuse to be. “If you think of yourself as a prisoner, there’s nothing I can do to remedy--”

It was moment of impulse, more of a fleeting idea than a genuine question. You might’ve regretted asking it at all, if something in the back of your head hadn’t started hammering against your skull at the thought of carrying on this conversation. “If I wanted to, would you let me leave?”

There was a slight pause, an alien silence as he stopped moving, his arm falling from your shoulders. “It would destroy me,” He mumbled, by way of excuse. “I don’t know if I’d be able to go on if you--”

“Would I be able to leave?” This time, you tried to be more forceful, more instant, but it came out wrong, brash, frustrated. One of the more devoted members of Malleus’ entourage took half a step towards you, but he was quickly waved off. “Would you let me go, or would you stop me?”

It was his turn to sigh, now. Somehow, you couldn’t bring yourself to pity him. “If it came to that, I wouldn’t have another choice, my love.”

That was all you needed to hear. By now, Malleus’ guards knew better than to stop you, only separating and letting you pass, your pace now fervid and your hand already in your hair, tearing at your crown, working at clasps and combs until the ornament came free and you could hear stone collide with metal, until it hit the floor and shattered, falling apart more suddenly than something so finely made should. “Then I’m a prisoner,” You snapped, not bothering to spare him a second glance as you fled down the hall. “And I don’t see a reason to listen to my captor’s advice.”

He didn’t move to follow you, and for once, you were thankful for his disregard.

At least you’d be able to deal with his scorn from a distance, for the rest of the day.

~

Your wrist was going to be sore, tomorrow.

If you were being honest with yourself, it was your own fault. You’d agitated him, and by bringing up the fact that you didn’t want to be here, that you didn’t love him, you’d made him paranoid, jealous, clingy, in the way a predator might cling to prey it couldn’t bring itself to kill. It must’ve comforted him, to keep a hand pressed against the small of you back or an arm around your waist, a fist wrapped around your forearm and his pointed, painted nails burrowed so far into your skin, you were scared he might draw blood if you tried to pull away. You should’ve been used to it, by now, the possessive way he held you. You’d had more than enough time to learn to tolerate it.

You’d had more than enough time, but that was part of the problem, wasn’t it?

You’d had more than enough time to come to terms with how little you wanted to tolerate it.

To your credit, you didn’t try to tear yourself away from him, not at first. All you did was slow down, tripping over your own feet on the uneven terrain of his courtyard before coming to a stop. You tried to avoid paying too much attention to the scenery whenever Malleus saw fit to take you farther than the castle walls, knowing how little you’d see of the outside world and how easy it was to miss, but you forced yourself to glare down at the weeds forcing themselves through well-worn cobblestone as Malleus glanced towards. It’d be easier if you didn’t meet his eyes. And, when he failed to ask, all you did was voice your thoughts, your tone as neutral as you could manage. “You’re hurting me.”

There was a beat of silence, a quick glance towards your wrist. When he let out a quiet, breathy laugh, you couldn’t stop yourself from deflating. “You should’ve said something,” He chastised, playfully. “It’s easy to forget how fragile humans can be, especially when they’re so rare. Silver would sooner bleed out than let Lilia fret over his injuries, and I can’t say you’re much better.”

And yet, he let you go. If anything, his grip only grew tighter, a pulsing ache soon forming under his palm. “Malleus, that’s nice, but--”

“Silver is considerate, though. If he bites his tongue, it’s only because he knows speaking would be more alarming than keeping quiet. I’m not sure where he picked up the trait, but that’s thoughtful of him, isn’t it?” He didn’t wait for an answer, only clamping down, watching with a small smile as your free hand shot to his wrist and you struggled not to cry out. Pulling away wasn’t an option, anymore. It was all you could do to keep your fingertips from going numb, let along tug your way out of his iron-clad grip. “I don’t really expect you to understand. You’ve been too unreasonable to see the point in sacrifice, lately.”

“I don’t have anything to sacrifice.” It was true, he wouldn’t have been able to deny that. What little you’d once had, he’d taken away. What you tried to keep to yourself, he pried from your arms without the slightest bit of shame. You knew that, and so did Malleus, somewhere in the back of his twisted, deluded mind. But, judging from the way his eyes narrowed as you went on, he didn’t care for the reminder. “You’re hurting me, is that what you want? Am I just supposed to grit my teeth and let you?”

There was the shortest hesitation, just a moment’s worth of reluctance. He opened his mouth, but you already had your answer. By the time he thought to lie, you were reeling back, digging your heels into the pavement and struggling in vain to wrench yourself away from him. “Let me go!” You didn’t try to keep your voice down. You didn’t care when a passing couple pretended not to stare and the nearest soldiers edged away from their post and Malleus scowled, his patience worn thin enough for his frustration to show. “You’re a monster--”

The air hitched in your throat before you could process why. Malleus hardly moved, but all it took was a click of his tongue and a glare only slightly more malicious than his usual glower and then, something white-hot and burning was searing itself into your skin, little more than a spark of what you knew he was capable of. It only lasted a second, most likely less than that, but the pain didn’t lessen as Malleus released you, allowing you the mercy of drawing your arm back into your chest and cradling your injury. The wound was raw, throbbing every time it made contact with the chilled air, your vision blurring at just the thought of touching it. If you hadn’t known better, you may’ve gone running to a healer out of instinct alone, but you had a feeling Malleus wasn’t in the mood to deal with that kind of defiance.

“Take this as a lesson,” He spat, the warning dripping with a venom you’d never heard from him. “I won’t be this kind, in the future. The burn will heal, but next time you insist I’m so awful, the damage won’t be as temporary. Do you understand?”

Slowly, you forced yourself to nod, earning an unimpressed scoff from Malleus. He accepted your lackluster submission, though, turning away and signaling you to follow with a slight, nonchalant wave. You moved to comply, but you hesitated before you started after him. You couldn’t help it.

You were injured, but he wasn’t holding onto you, anymore. He wasn’t dragging you around like a loyal mutt, forced onto a lead by an optimistic master. You were injured, but it’d worked.

Any amount of pain would’ve been worth it, if you’d finally found a way to get under his skin.

~

He was going to kill you.

You really hadn’t meant to lash out. You hadn’t meant to hurt him, but he’d startled you, caught you off guard while you were trying to fall asleep in a bed that was too soft and too decorative to appeal to faeries and the sparse, scattered hours they spend asleep. He’d put his hands on you, and you’d panicked. You’d felt his teeth on your neck, and for a moment, you hadn’t been able to think.

You hadn’t meant to, but now there were three thin, ragged scratches running from his cheek his jaw, the bottom-most still bleeding, and Malleus was going to kill you.

You tried to remedy the situation, while you still could. You’d never hurt him before, never affected him in a way left such tangible evidence, and to be honest, part of you still couldn’t believe you’d managed it. Malleus seemed to be stuck in a similar mindset, his lips parting slightly as his hand drifted from your hip to his cheek, tracing the jagged wound. He didn’t flinch, didn’t shy away from the contact, but that didn’t matter. Whether there was pain or not, you’d done something to harm him. That wasn’t an offense he was going to forgive easily.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to--” You cut yourself off, sitting up before you could say another word, before you could make things worse for yourself. There was a dip in the mattress, a small shift in his posture, but you tried not to linger on the way his shoulder squared as you cupped the unmarried side of his face. “I’m sorry, I’m really, really sorry, you just… I didn’t know what you were doing, and you know I don’t like it when you... I don’t like it when you touch me.”

“You cut me.” He sounded surprised, more shocked than he should’ve been. It made sense, for Malleus. He’d never liked to acknowledge that you could hurt him, let alone the possibility that you’d try to. “You cut me.”

“I-I know,” You tried, settling onto your knees in front of him. Suddenly, you were thankful he’d chosen wait until you were in bed. “But, it’s alright, you just need to--”

This time, he didn’t wait for you to finish. Before you could finish, his fingers were tangled in your hair, the heel of his palm pressed against your forehead. You almost wished their had been some kind of magic word - a spell, an incantation to give you an idea of his intentions. Instead, there was only the feeling of his nails digging into your scalp, a sourceless sense of confusion, and exhaustion. Pure, unadulterated exhaustion.

He didn’t even bother to catch you, as you collapsed.

~

Your throat was on fire, when you woke up.

It was a dry, cracked, excruciating sort of pain, the type that had curling into yourself and clutching at your neck and wondering if you should try to drink something or close your eyes or scream. You might’ve tried to. If you did, though, you couldn’t hear it, couldn’t feel it, not underneath that blend of acid and rust that seemed to coat your vocal cords. It was all you could to roll onto your side, to try to focus on something, rather than letting your vision blur and fade around the edges every time you thought about straining yourself. But, you’d regret that, too, when the thing lying beside you came into focus.

Or, the person, rather. If you could still call him that.

Malleus was awake, you had to assume he’d always been. Faeries didn’t need sleep, not like a human might, meaning he was conscious and aware and, when he noticed you staring up at him with an expression best described as ‘petrified’, he was able to smile, to smirk, to meet your eyes with all the composure he’d lacked, the last time you’d shared his company. It might’ve been hours ago, it might’ve been days ago, but you had no way of being certain. The black, satin sheets underneath you were still the same ones you’d crumpled onto, under his spell. The hearth on the other side of his bedroom was still lit, but it always was, an eerily green fire left to burn constantly in an effort to fight the pervasive darkness of his homeland. The only thing that might’ve changed was his appearance, his spotless white tunic now unbuttoned, his hair brushed away from his face, and in his hand, he toyed with something. A handle, maybe, a strip of dark strip of leather that, when you thought to check, led back in your direction. Reflexively, you brought a hand to the base of your neck, where the pain was at its worst.

Huh.

You really should’ve seen this coming.

A choker. That’s what it felt like, at least. A circlet of cold, polished metal pulled tight against your skin, made to swirl and branch out in a way that, almost ironically, made you think of the thornbushes Malleus had always been so fond of. As far as you could tell, there wasn’t a buckle, no latch or pin that’d let you remove the contraption without freeing yourself of your head, in the process. You couldn’t see its color or its size, but you were thankful for that. Just imagining the way it must look, a collar and a leash and the pathetic, weakened mortal forced into it…

Quickly, you decided not to linger on the thought, and to concentrate on finding a way out of it, instead.

You held onto your side of the tether, hoping beyond hope that you’d just jumped to the wrong conclusion. “What is this?”

The words came out soft, just bordering on inaudible, but Malleus was close enough to hear. At first, he only hummed, scanning over you idly, evaluating your current state. You must’ve been unconscious for more than a day, at least. Clearly, his rage had time to cool into something much more dangerous than impulsive wrath. “I thought this would be… appropriate.” You hated the way he spoke, with rehearsed inflections and a practiced stiltedness. As if there was a reason to pretend he wasn’t satisfied with his work. “I didn’t have another option. You’ve been acting out so often and… What’s the phrase mortals are so fond of? Biting the hand that pets you?”

“Don’t bite the hand that feeds you,” You muttered, absently. The numb realization came first, but the anger was quick to follow. Quick to overwhelm, despite your better judgement. “I’m not a fucking dog--”

As soon as you started to raise your voice, he pulled your cord taut, jerking you forward and causing the metal around your neck to contract, just enough to press into your skin. You didn’t even get a chance to ask what he’d done. It wasn’t just pain, anymore. It wasn’t just a flame being held against your arm, or your thigh, or whatever part of you Malleus decided he loved the least, that day. It was a puncture, an injection, something that forced itself into your body and refused to withdraw. It was something driving itself under your skin and writhing, a parisite curling around your collarbone and biting. Your hands shot back to your collar, clawing at the seamless metal, but as far as you could tell, it hadn’t moved. It hadn’t done anything. There was nothing to fight against, nothing to dig your nails into, no blood or bruise or mark. Just the slightest bit of warmth and Malleus hovering over you, rubbing small, shallow circles into your shoulder and making your lungs tighten in your chest, making it more impossible to breath with every passing second.

It was almost worse when it stopped, when Malleus sighed and dropped your leash and you were able to gasp for air. This time, Malleus was there to catch you, to guide your head against his chest as he cooed sweet, contented nothings. You’d almost forgotten how cruel magic could be, in the wrong hands.

 You’d almost forgotten how sadistic he could be, with the right incentives.

“It’s not that bad, is it? There’s never going to be a wound, but I tried to make sure it would hurt. Just enough to let you see how I feel, every time you find a new way to break my heart.” There was a languid sigh, a shake of his head. You had to lock your jaw into place just to keep from calling him another awful name, just to keep from earning yourself another pull and another minute of whatever method of torture he’d come up with. “I can’t trust you to behave for the sake of your own safety. This was the only way, my love. If I can’t trust you to love me…” There was a brief pause, a light kiss pushed into your temple. Regretful, but not remorseful. Apologetic, but more sorry he chose to imprison someone so stubborn than for the lengths he was willing to go to, if it meant controlling your temper. You couldn’t say you were surprised, but your disappointment would’ve been impossible to ignore.

Although, you didn’t have much time to linger on the feeling as Malleus took up your cord, wrapping it around his fist as he went on.

“You’ll just have to learn to fear me, instead.”

[thebiscuiteternal]

Wei Wuxian and/or Lan Wangji visit the Unclean Realma

Okay so this is sort of cheating, but it turns out I actually already have a story for this that I just kinda forgot to post anywhere? So I've prettied it up for this. Set in a timeline where Jin Guangyao survived the temple incident and Lan Xichen and Jin Ling managed to argue for life imprisonment instead of execution.

__________

Three days after Jin Guangyao is warded into a little house on the edge of the Cloud Recesses, word comes from up north that all of the inter-sect liaisons and visiting disciples have been expelled from the Unclean Realms and no one new is being permitted to enter.

"Should've guessed the Headshaker would throw a tantrum about the trial. It's all he's good at anyway," Wei Wuxian hears being muttered among a knot of gold-robed cultivators.

He... has a bad feeling. A feeling that warns him this likely isn't so simple as that.

The wine having soured in his stomach, he leaves the jar unfinished and goes to collect his things and Little Apple.

Then he heads towards Qinghe.

He's long been used to cold stares and angry muttering at his presence, but the tone takes on a distinct change once he crosses the border. There's not one word mentioned about the Yiling Patriarch, or even demonic cultivation in general.

No, the people who whisper at his presence seem to think he's here as a spy, or even an assassin for the Lan.

He'd laugh at the absurdity, except the implications behind the rumors leave him cold.

After all the gossip, he's unsurprised when the guards at the gates of the Unclean Realms tell him in no uncertain terms to get lost. Even though he knows it probably won't help (and it doesn't), he lays out that he's here on his own terms, without any knowledge of the Lan sect. Turned away still, he decides it would probably be better to set himself up a camp rather than trying his luck at an inn.

Using a paperman out in the open forest is considerably more dangerous than indoors, but the questions in his mind keep eating at him until he groans and flops against Little Apple's side, relying on the donkey's bulk to keep him grounded as he activates the spell.

The thing that bothers him the most is the quiet.

He could count the number of times he'd been to the Unclean Realms on one hand, but whether in war or peace, the place had always been almost as bustling as Lotus Pier. Right now though, as he floats around the courtyards and into the hallways, he is met with faces blank as stone slabs and conversations spoken so lowly that he has to strain to hear.

None of it is good.

He gleans over the course of following several knots of disciples or servants that the isolation adopted by Qinghe Nie was not on the orders of its sect leader.

Rather, the elders and disciples have closed rank around him.

As he thinks about it, he can start to understand their reasoning. One sect leader was murdered, and all of their supposed allies turned their heads from the issue until the murderer went after them as well. A second sect leader was murdered in a similar fashion, and two of the supposed allies had actively argued for the life of the killer.

Why wait to see how little their supposed allies would care if something happened to a third?

___

He's starting to get tired, but he can't leave until he's seen Nie Huaisang himself.

As luck would have it, a maid passes by his hiding spot with a large bowl of soup and a pot of tea, both of which have the sensory tinge of qi-infused herbs commonly used to treat a minor deviation.

She doesn't sense a little wisp of paper clinging to her sleeve, and he rides along as she enters a garden deep enough within the Realms that it's clearly not meant for visitors.

A lone figure sits in a chair, staring in the vague direction of nothing in particular, and Wei Wuxian makes a tiny involuntary noise that thankfully doesn't translate through the paperman.

Nie Huaisang looks absolutely wrecked.

His eyes are rimmed in red, either from the qi deviation, crying, or both. The effect is worsened by the sheer exhaustion that creates shadows on his face and bows his shoulders. His hair is unbound, his clothing is wrinkled, and all of it put together makes Wei Wuxian wonder if he has slept at all since that night at Guanyin Temple, let alone during the trial.

The maid silently lays down the tray and fixes a cup of tea with honey, then gently presses it into Nie Huaisang's hands, making sure they are fully holding it before pulling away.

"Thank you, Hui-er."

The tell-tale rasp of a voice recovering from having blown itself out screaming makes the little paperman rustle as Wei Wuxian shivers.

He should leave.

He's seen what he came for, he really should lea-

"Wh- hey!"

Oh, shit.

He tries to flutter out of reach, but Hui-er is surprisingly quick and he finds himself snatched out of the air.

"Leave that with me, please."

"Zongzhu... are you sure?"

He doesn't see any noticeable change, but something in Nie Huaisang's expression must convince the maid, because she nods and places his paper form into an outstretched hand.

"Would you kindly give Min-jie my thanks for the soup?"

"Of course." Hui-er bows and heads back towards the garden entrance.

Once they are alone, Nie Huaisang sighs quietly. "Hello, Wei Wuxian. I suppose I should have expected you to come poking around."

There's no anger in the words. Except for the rasp, one could almost mistake it for his teasing from their class days.

But he genuinely can't remember a single time in their lives that Nie Huaisang ever full-named him, even at his most irritated or upset, and hearing his courtesy name fall from his mouth makes Wei Wuxian feel ill.

Little paper arms wrap around long fingers and their bruised knuckles.

"You should leave," Nie Huaisang says, gently stroking the little paper head with a fingertip. "The sides have been chosen again, and you already know what it's like on the wrong one."

He does.

He also knows what it's like to be grievously wronged.

If the possibility of avenging everything Wen Chao and Wen Zhuliu had done had been taken from him... if he'd had to sit there and listen as the cultivation world decided they still deserved to live...

Little paper arms hug tighter.

Nie Huaisang finally smiles. Or tries to, anyway, and the attempt is both painful and worrying. "I see. Stubborn as ever. Fine, I will tell the guards not to block your way the next time you visit."

When he has made his way back to camp, back to himself, Wei Wuxian feels drained in more ways than just physical or spiritual tiredness.

He... he should tell Lan Zhan that this isn't just some petty show of spite on Nie Huaisang's part.

But that's all he'll tell.

That's all he’ll tell.

[ahgaseda]

aura | three

driving me crazy, look in my eyes, follow me, come here, dance with me now, I’m gonna make you feel like that...

summary : back again at a camp for kids that can’t behave, you are still brokenhearted over your ill-fated romance with Jaebeom, until your friend Jackson offers to help make your ex jealous in exchange for helping him land the most unattainable girl at camp.

warnings : strong profanity, explicit dialogue, recurring alcohol or recreational drug use, graphic sexual content, brief mentions of illegal activities, potentially triggering elements involving toxic relationships and emotional manipulation, etc.

miniseries chapters : one / two / three / four / five / six / seven

Every step down the path was slowed by dread and anxiety. The auditorium sat on a small hill, looming over the rest of the camp, and the sight made your stomach turn each time you laid eyes on it.

Such an unassuming building and yet it still shot nerves through you.

Entering through the double doors, you were blasted by air conditioning, which was a bit excessive with the crisp morning air. You simpered when you made eye contact with a few of the other campers. It was a small group, as to be expected for these little sessions.

Then, your gaze shifted to the wall where Jaebeom was leaning back and had just looked up at the sound of the door opening.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you groaned, wanting to march right back out. Fate was such a cruel bitch.

Jaebeom cocked his head at your reaction, following you with his eyes, and asked sweetly, “Sleep well?”

“Yes,” you replied, curt, avoiding his stare.

Jaebeom shifted closer and whispered, “Did you think of me last night?”

If only you knew how you had filled his thoughts and dreams. Those kisses in the pool still made his heart race.

Smirking with a chance to torment him, you retorted, “Not even once. My mind is full of Jackson and how good his head looked between my thighs.”

Jaebeom frowned, the blood draining from his face. Hearing about your escapades with Jackson made him insane, like being dragged through pieces of broken glass.

“That bastard,” Jaebeom huffed under his breath.

Your arrogance faded and you turned somber. Part of you realized that you were giving yourself away to spite him. It was like trying to heal a burn by directly applying more fire.

Doctor Ambrose stepped inside, greeting everyone with her signature smile. “Good morning. Are we ready to begin?”

No one was. Not one of these poor souls wanted to discuss their daddy or mommy issues in group form. But it was mandated by the camp and having been attending for many years, you were accustomed to dodging.

You and the others followed Doctor Ambrose into the main auditorium, approaching a ring of folding chairs waiting on the stage. You swallowed the lump in your throat and avoided a look at Jaebeom as you took a seat.

This was the room where it happened - where you surrendered your virtuous flower. Blah, blah, blah, you thought to yourself. Eventually, you were going to have to come to terms with the fact you were less bitter about losing your virginity and more broken at having lost your heart.

The theater was the one place no one bothered to lock after curfew since it was solely used for group sessions and the occasional motivational speech, but if someone did remember to lock up, the door code was common knowledge. Guys went there to blaze up. Girls went to sneak drinks.

Jaebeom had brought you inside. The relationship had grown and was leading to a physical consummation of your feelings for each other. You knew exactly what would happen. After all, you had snuck out of your cabin in the middle of the night to meet a boy beneath the stars.

You let him lay you down on the stage, behind the heavy velvet curtain. Jaebeom at least had the wherewithal to put his jacket down for you to rest on.

You stole a glance of the shadow behind the curtain, not too far from where you sat, and your expression soured. You could still remember the rampant beating of your heart when Jaebeom kissed you with all he had and laid you down beneath him.

The memory raced across your mind in steady bursts. Your eyes burned at how gentle he had been with you, how loving. Jaebeom convinced you that he was madly in love and that there was a future between you and him.

And you were such a fool to believe it. You were over the moon thinking you had finally found love in the most unlikely of places. With someone you trusted. Someone you considered a friend.

Taking a deep breath, you were officially angry.

The time spent with Jackson had taken off the rose-colored glasses. You were able to see your affair with Jaebeom for what it was. And though you were still hopelessly in love with him, you were mad as hell for what he had done to you.

Doctor Ambrose called your name and began, “Let’s start with you. Why don’t you tell us the behavior that warranted your presence back at camp this year?”

You crossed your legs and sang, “Oh, where to begin, Doc? I lied. I cheated. I stole. Short of murder, my rap sheet is long.”

“You’ve been coming here for many years and you know that’s not what these sessions are about,” she chided, giving you a stern look. “Skip the bravado and get straight to the real talk.”

You narrowed your eyes. Ambrose always did hit the nail on the head. That’s why she was one of the few people at this godforsaken place that held everyone’s respect. Which was impressive in its own right since you and your fellow rich, troubled kids had very little respect for anyone.

But if Doctor Ambrose thought you were going to bear your soul to a room full of people that didn’t give a damn about you - Jaebeom included - she was sorely mistaken.

You sighed and continued, “I’m sure it’s common knowledge by now that I had a terrible lapse in judgement last summer and that lapse in judgement had a lot of unforeseen consequences.”

Jaebeom was unmoving in his seat, but his eyes were heavy on you.

Ambrose gave you her undivided attention and spoke softly, “Go on.”

You shrugged, hoping to hide just how miserably the words were coming from your mouth. “I lashed out. I cycled through all of my emotions and when they were too painful, I did something bad. Something that distracted me from how angry or hurt I was. Classic reckless human behavior.”

Her response was blunt, but genuine, “It’s called self-destructive behavior and you were punishing yourself for the pain someone else inflicted on you.”

You studied her, wanting to smack this woman across the face for defining you in a single sentence. “Forget psychiatrist,” you scoffed. “You’re a psychic.”

“I know you,” Ambrose said tenderly. “And you are not defined by your mistakes.”

You rolled your eyes, though you would love to believe that. “We all are, Doctor Ambrose,” you told her morosely. Then, your tone shifted, “Now, please take the spotlight off of me before I do something bad. Like I said, it’s what I’m known for.”

Ambrose exhaled loudly, conflicted, but decided not to push you. Turning to the next participant, she called, “Jaebeom, your turn.”

Jaebeom was still looking at you.

“Why don’t you tell us the activities that landed you back for yet another summer here?”

Jaebeom grumbled, “I’m a dick. The end.”

A few of the other attendees chortled.

“Jaebeom, everyone here knows you’re more complex than that,” Ambrose shot back.

“Am I?”

She cocked her head. “You don’t think so.”

“Ask her,” Jaebeom said, waving his hand in your direction. “Everyone knows what I did.”

You didn’t dare look at him, offering no absolution. You kept your gaze firmly rooted to Doctor Ambrose, who was now glancing between the two of you suspiciously.

Tapping her pen, Ambrose ordered, “After this group session I want to see both of you in my office.”

Your heart sank and you pleaded, “But, Doctor Ambrose…”

“Moving on,” she cut you off.

You folded your arms tightly across your chest in defiance, stiff in your seat. Jaebeom stretched out his legs and braced his arms on his thighs, keeping his head low.

Tuning out the conversations going around the circle of other campers discussing their toxic and sometimes illegal activities, you could only think about how angry you were. How it was billowing and growing inside of you until it threatened to burst.

Though Jaebeom was in the seat beside yours, he felt an entire world away. What had you done to him to deserve this? And for fuck’s sake, why couldn’t you stop loving him? If you fell in love with someone, couldn’t you ultimately fall back out?

Stealing a glance in the corner of your eye, Jaebeom looked up at that same moment and your eyes met. You looked away immediately, bitter and vengeful, but Jaebeom persisted. For someone who prided himself on being set in his ways, he couldn’t stand how you spun him on his edge.

You made him want to risk it all.

When the group session ended, Ambrose twirled the pen between her fingers and said, “I suppose we can forgo my office and just speak here.”

“We have nothing to talk about,” Jaebeom spoke up, venomous.

“I think there’s plenty,” she asserted, studying you intently. “Wanna tell me about it?”

Your eyes glistened when they met hers. You wanted to tell her she was right. That you had punished yourself for a year because you fell for a boy - the wrong boy. It was stupid. It was juvenile. And you resented yourself to hell and back for it.

“You wouldn’t understand,” you finally murmured, voice shaky.

She smiled, comforting. “Try me.”

Jaebeom could see you were about to crack. He could hear the weakness seeping into your words. Running a hand through his hair, he blurted out, “It’s my fault.”

Ambrose questioned levelly, “How so?”

“Be quiet,” you hissed.

“I fucked up,” Jaebeom confessed.

“Language,” she corrected loosely.

Jaebeom frowned. “I seduced her. I convinced her I was in love.”

“And were you?”

“No, I…,” Jaebeom trailed, like he couldn’t bring himself to say it. “I don’t know.”

You glared with nothing short of loathing at the floor.

Ambrose was putting the pieces together and she didn’t hesitate to scold, “What was your purpose, Jaebeom? What were you trying to achieve?”

Jaebeom paused a moment. Then, he finally admitted, “I was trying to get her into bed.”

Ambrose clocked a glance at you and said, “I’m assuming you succeeded.”

Your breaths came faster. Your heart was revving like the engine of Jackson’s blood red Corvette. Any minute you were going to explode.

“I went too far,” Jaebeom mulled, scratching his head. “I had never gone that far before, but I was addicted. I had no idea it would… I didn’t know she would…”

“You’re full of shit,” you snapped.

Doctor Ambrose called your name, giving you the same warning about profanity.

You leveled your scowl at Jaebeom, who had already bowed his head in submission or shame, and sneered, “I will never believe a word you say. You knew exactly what you were doing. You wanted someone to hurt as much as you hurt.”

Jaebeom still couldn’t meet your eyes. Pathetic, he thought to himself, but he couldn’t face your wrath. He couldn’t see the pain manifested on your beautiful face.

“Congratulations,” you continued, rising to your feet. “I know how you feel and I almost derailed my life because of you!”

Ambrose held out a hand amicably. “Please, sit.”

“No, I’m out of here,” you barked, gritting your teeth to keep the tears at bay. “And if you plan on physically making me stay in the same room with this asshole a minute longer, my stepfather’s attorneys would love to blow this shit wide open.”

Doctor Ambrose gave you a nod and sat back down.

Your steps echoed through the frigid silence of the auditorium and you nearly knocked the doors off their hinges when you pushed them open to escape outside.

When you had gone, Jaebeom exhaled heavily.

Ambrose looked at him. She could see the guilt weighing down his shoulders and though she didn’t want to take pity on him after what you had just revealed, compassion was a cornerstone of who she was as a person.

“Jaebeom, it goes without saying, but I’m going to say it,” Ambrose whispered for his ears only. “Breaking other people doesn’t fix you.”

Jaebeom stood to full height without another word and skulked away, hiding his teary eyes behind his long black hair.

“The nerve of that bitch! I know that she knows what happened last summer,” you vented, pacing back and forth in front of Jackson as he sat on the edge of the bed. “Everyone on the east coast knows by now. I had to hear about it for the first month of school on a daily basis!”

“I know,” Jackson replied patiently.

You tried to mimic the voices of the nosy, gossiping girls back home, “‘Can you believe she spread her legs for him? Did she really think he loved her? I thought she was smart. Turns out she’s a dumb whore like the rest of us!’”

Jackson grimaced. He remembered that morning, when you told him you slept with Jaebeom. You were so happy, so sure of what you wanted. And he knew it was going to unravel, leaving you holding all the pieces. “No one said that.”

“Everyone said that, Jacks! Admit it,” you yelled.

Of course, they did. Jackson had never threatened so many people in his life. Jackson had a lot of friends, but he only had one best friend. Whenever they spoke of you and Jaebeom, it made his skin crawl. Made his fists clench on instinct.

He was supposed to protect you.

Jackson rose from the bed, grasping your arms and staring you in the face. “Who cares what other people say? I sure as shit don’t!”

You cast your gaze down, shifting from angry to sad. “And he really sat there acting like he didn’t think I would take it so personally,” you whispered, trembling.

Jackson gathered you in his arms, squeezing tight. “He’s an idiot. It is known,” he quipped dryly.

You pulled back and sighed, “Maybe we should just fuck.”

Jackson frowned, but quickly hid his disappointment with a swift, “I’m not in the mood.”

You quirked a brow. “Seriously?”

Jackson released you and teased, “Yeah, I’m not a faucet.”

You let a smirk play at your lips and reached for his belt. “What if I…”

Jackson grabbed your wrists and chided you so sternly you almost faltered, “Listen. You are more than sex. You understand me?”

There were very few occasions Jackson reprimanded you and he always snared your full attention when it happened. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you murmured, “...Okay.”

Jackson simpered. “You don’t need to fuck. You need a hug.”

You chuckled, squeaking in surprise when he pulled you to his chest faster than you thought possible. You smiled, burying your face against his neck as he enveloped you in his embrace.

It was exactly what you needed.

You set your hands to his shoulders, feeling burly muscles underneath. Jackson always radiated heat and energy, and you were content to let him hold you forever. Jackson was warmth and safety.

He was home.

After a moment, you blurted to alleviate the tension, “Can we go get food?”

Jackson exclaimed, “I thought you’d never ask.”

The two of you walked arm in arm to the mess hall. It had been ungodly, the hour you woke to attend your group therapy session, but it meant you were starving for breakfast and the smell that hit your nose when you entered the dining room made you salivate on the spot.

Approaching the line, Jackson said, “Damn it. I forgot to tell you I’m sitting with Yeona today.”

“Oh,” you replied, remembering you didn’t get a chance to talk to him much after you had pounced on him. “I take it everything went well last night.”

“Yeah, we hit it off. I’m laying the groundwork.”

You rolled your eyes. Part of you was rooting in Yeona’s corner, that she stick to her guns and save herself for someone who loved her. The other part felt guilty as hell for being part of the same scheme that destroyed you last summer.

Pushing those thoughts aside, you told him, “I think I want some alone time to myself anyway. I’ll sit in the corner.”

Jackson eyed you worriedly. “Are you sure? I can totally blow her off.”

“Positive,” you insisted, beaming at the gesture. “Go with Yeona. You two would make a really cute couple.”

“Ha. Ha,” said Jackson in mock laughter.

Together you got your food and then parted in the aisleway. Yeona smiled when Jackson joined her by the window and you vaguely wished happiness for them. Jackson wasn’t like Jaebeom. 

Maybe Yeona would be good for Jackson. She could help him work through his commitment issues. You had seen firsthand what his parents’ marriage had done to him. It was no surprise he broke off relationships as soon as they started to become serious.

Taking the empty table in the corner, you backed against the wall. Pulling a magazine out of your purse, you placed it next to your tray and opened to a random page, biting into your toasted bagel.

Jaebeom leaned against the adjacent door frame, hands in his pockets. He was sporting his trademarked leather jacket and his hair had strayed into his eyes while watching you.

He was at war with himself over what to say.

First and foremost he wanted to apologize, but Lim Jaebeom had way too much pride for that. Secondly, he considered offering you a better deal than whatever Jackson was giving you, but given your furor at the group session, Jaebeom knew better than to stoke your wrath again.

Jaebeom thought of all those times last summer when he caught himself staring at you. How could someone so beautiful and amazing be interested in the likes of him? You were confident and fearless, a little rough around the edges with a heart of gold. You were everything he aspired to be and you brought out the best in him without even knowing it.

By then, Jaebeom was in too deep. He could feel himself falling for you and he forbade himself from ever putting his heart on the line. And so he cut you loose.

Jaebeom remembered your face when he spoke those words. I never loved you. The joy left your face. The light fled your eyes. With four words, he had broken someone completely and it kept him awake at night.

Sex was a release for him. No more, no less. Jaebeom could fuck a girl and never see her again afterward, and it wouldn’t bother him for a second. After her - the woman that loved and left him - Jaebeom didn’t attach sex with emotion and certainly not intimacy or commitment.

Then, he had you. Suddenly, he wanted to wake up to you in the morning. He wanted to fall asleep in your arms every night. He didn’t fuck you… he made love to you. He felt passion for the first time in a long time. When it was over, he didn’t want to leave like he had always done. And that scared the shit out of him.

Jaebeom realized you had begun to heal him and he panicked.

Even now, Jaebeom wanted you back. He needed another chance. His first instinct was always to run when he felt emotions he didn’t understand, but he could fight back this time. He could change for you, couldn’t he?

When Jaebeom slid into the seat beside you, you weren’t the least bit surprised.

“What are you reading?” he asked nonchalantly, picking up the magazine and fanning the pages.

“Chick magazine,” you deadpanned. “There’s an article in there on Ten Ways to Achieve Female Orgasm. You should read it.”

Another snide jab at his bedroom skills. Jaebeom wrinkled his nose, but rebuffed you, “I only got one round with you. How do you know I couldn’t give you the best loving of your life?”

It was a provocative thought. You felt your heart stutter a little, but your mind was fully in control now, and you shot back, “Because I don’t think you know what love is.”

Jaebeom met your eyes and this time, you didn’t back down. “You know what I meant,” he huffed.

“So, I’m a mind reader now? Good to know,” you retorted, acerbic.

Jaebeom turned to you, leaning in and whispering, “Tonight. After curfew. Sneak out with me.”

You shook your head, mouth full of food. Swallowing, you told him coolly, “I have a regularly scheduled dick appointment with Jackson.”

“Cancel it,” Jaebeom said, appearing unaffected though it made him want to destroy Jackson a thousand times over. “I’ll have some wine. We can go to the lookout. You know, like old times.”

You scowled at him and yet, you wanted nothing more than to go back to those old times. Before you were stupid. Before you fell in love with him.

“Give me one good reason,” you hissed, taking a sip of your orange juice.

Jaebeom shifted, like the words pained him. More from pride than anything else. “I just want to talk to you. I miss you. As a friend.”

You didn’t say anything, but you shuffled your attention between him and Jackson. The latter was making Yeona laugh heartily and you felt a twinge of jealousy. Not from a place of malice, but a protectiveness over your best friend.

Jackson would tell you not to. He would tell Jaebeom to take a fucking hike.

Angling back to Jaebeom, you warned, “If you so much as grab my boob, I will kick you in the balls and leave you there.”

Jaebeom smiled, but quickly fought it. “That’s fair.”

“What time?”

“Eleven.”

You nodded. “Okay, I’ll meet you at the spot.”

Jaebeom rose and you were sad to see him go, but he added, “Nah, I will come to your cabin and get you. I don’t want you walking at night alone.”

You rolled your eyes. “Chivalry isn’t dead after all.”

Jackson stitched his brows, having listened to you recount the exchange to him back at his cabin.

“Of course, chivalry is dead,” your best friend exclaimed incredulously. “He killed it.”

“Jacks, please,” you whined. “He just wants to talk.”

“No, he doesn’t,” Jackson countered firmly and he looked a heartbeat away from combusting. “He hates that you’re sleeping with me. It’s jealousy. Plain and simple.”

You propped your hands on your hips, frustrated from arguing with him. “Wasn’t that the plan? To make him come after me again?”

Jackson remembered what had started all of this in the first place and he changed his tune. “Right, yeah, but this is just going the same route as last summer. You see that, right?”

“No, it’s not. I’m wiser now.”

Jackson approached briskly, taking you in his arms and roaming his hands around your waist. “You could just stay here with me,” he coaxed, voice a low growl. “I can eat that pussy like it’s my last meal.”

You snorted a laugh, but slipped out of his arms. “Nice try, but you were right. I’m more than just sex and I need to see where his head is at.”

Jackson sighed in defeat.

“Don’t wait up for me tonight,” you called back to him as you slipped through the door.

Jackson watched you go and stood rooted in place. Fuck, he was conflicted. Every instinct he had told him to stop you, but how could he? What right did he have to you in the first place?

He was just the guy you fucked to get back at another guy.

Jackson exhaled loudly through his nose. He could feel himself slipping, losing his nerve. Even when he sat with Yeona, making her smile and laugh, and noticing she leaned into his touches, his eyes still wandered to you. And when Jaebeom had appeared by your side, Jackson could feel his heart sinking into the bottom of his stomach.

Jackson reminded himself of the deal. He would get Yeona and you would get Jaebeom. That was it. Those were the terms you both agreed on and thus far, everything was going quite smoothly.

But Jackson was thinking of you and now he was thinking of Jaebeom touching you. And it made him want to die.

The day passed by at a glacial pace. By the time night fell, you began the long, arduous process of doing your hair and makeup. When there was a knock at the door, you had to stop yourself from sprinting across the room to answer.

Instead, you made his ass wait.

“Hey,” you greeted, stepping through and shutting the door behind you a moment later.

“Hey,” Jaebeom replied, scanning you over. “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you,” you said sweetly, noting the backpack slung over his shoulder. “What you got back there?”

“None of your business,” he teased. “Ready to go?”

You pursed your lips, watching Jaebeom turn and stride away, expecting you to follow. Which, of course, you did.

The lookout was a small patch of open field between the trees. It was the perfect spot for stargazing and late night makeout sessions. You and Jaebeom had spent many hours in this place. As did you and Jackson.

It was a place of clarity and self-reflection. Something about seeing the stars so clearly, away from the noise and smog of the city, made you feel a sense of belonging. That everything would be okay. Sooner or later.

Jaebeom dropped his backpack and began rifling through it. Reading your mind, he called, “Don’t sit yet.”

You were about to complain, but then he stood and fanned out a red flannel blanket, smoothing out the corners over the grass.

“Now, you can sit.”

You almost chuckled, but you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. Plopping down, you overlapped your ankles and watched him take the spot beside you.

“Wow, this is actually romantic,” you smarted, monotonous.

Jaebeom popped open the bottle of wine and took a swig. “I’m full of surprises,” he quipped, handing you the bottle.

A bit perturbed he had neglected to bring separate glasses, you took a sip and countered bitterly, “Not really. I remember all the romantic gestures and sweet words of last summer.”

Jaebeom sighed. So did he.

He had taken something so precious and innocent and filled it with poison. Jaebeom could have walked away at any point. And even worse, when all was said and done, he could have stayed.

There was a lull of silence and you didn’t mind. Jaebeom studied the stars, feigning interest. You turned your head, looking at his profile alight with the glow of the moon.

“Jaebeom, why did you bring me here?”

Jaebeom swallowed and whispered, “I hate myself for what I did to you.”

You frowned. “And what about all the other girls?”

Jaebeom shook his head, remorseful only for you. “They weren’t naive. They weren’t inexperienced,” he explained, somber. “They weren’t my friends. They weren’t you.”

You narrowed your eyes. The anger was pooling in your belly again. And your next question was scathing, “So, what sets me apart is that you hurt me the most?”

“Yes,” Jaebeom said, feeling small. “And you didn’t deserve it.”

You cried, “Why me?”

“You were the holy grail. Every guy wanted you.”

Biting back tears, you whimpered, “You talk about me like I’m not a person.”

Jaebeom realized that and he looked away, mulling over if he could put his feelings into words for once. “Would you believe me if I said that looking back I meant the things I said to you - that I loved every moment we spent together last summer?”

You thought about it for a moment and then you answered, “No. It’s what I’ve wanted you to say and yet. . . I don’t believe you. Everything you said and did was the means to an end.”

Jaebeom didn’t deny it. “I thought so, too. But when I got home, you were all I could think about. I wanted to see you and hold you. I missed having you in my life.”

The tears were flowing freely now and you turned your head away.

Jaebeom came closer, cupping your cheek and wiping the tears with his thumb.

You sobbed, “Why did you do this?”

“Shh, baby,” he whispered under his breath.

“You hate yourself for hurting me. I hate myself for loving you.”

Jaebeom felt like a gaping open wound, one that refused to heal. And yet your pain surpassed his own. He would rather writhe in misery than see you crying in his arms. Knowing that he had driven you this far.

“You were right,” he choked out. “I wanted you to know hurt the way I did. I envied you. You never let anyone get to you. I thought in some twisted way I wouldn’t be alone and I could finally move past what happened to me.”

You could feel yourself falling for it again and you lowered your head.

“I’m sorry,” Jaebeom finally said.

Those words you had wanted for so long and they did nothing for you. They didn’t fix you. They didn’t numb the pain. They didn’t restore what had been taken.

You pushed his arms away and got to your feet, wiping the tears with the back of your hand. Stomping toward the gravel path, Jaebeom was hot on your heels, calling your name.

When he grabbed your arms and spun you back around to face him, you yelled, “Let me go, Jaebeom.”

“Tell me what to do,” he pleaded. “Tell me what you need me to do!”

“Break this fucking spell,” you shouted back at him. “Make me hate you. Because I love you and it’s killing me!”

That was the last thing Jaebeom wanted. He was consumed by you. There were those words again and Jaebeom couldn’t stand it. No one had ever loved him, much less fallen in love with him, and he didn’t know what to do.

So, he gathered you in his arms and melded his lips to yours. You didn’t hesitate to kiss him back hard, carding your fingers into his hair.

Jaebeom held your waist and hips snugly, trapping you to him. You pressed yourself to his chest and tugged on his hair, earning a groan. You slipped your tongue past his lips and Jaebeom made a noise at your aggression. He could taste the salt of your tears.

This was stupid, you thought to yourself. You just never learned, did you? But God, kissing him was amazing. You let your hands fall from his head to roam his shoulders, pressing your nails into his shirt. You felt so small in his arms, like you were lost in him.

Jaebeom began to move, steering you with him back toward the blanket, still kissing you like his life depended on it. You weren’t surprised when he lay you down, but Jaebeom was beyond surprised when you wrestled him to his back and straddled his hips.

You wanted to grin at the shocked expression he was sporting, but you only caught a brief glimpse of his widened eyes before smashing your lips back on his.

You just wanted to kiss him and kiss him and kiss him until you were satisfied, satiated. Maybe then you could finally get on with your life. It was senseless logic, but all you knew was he kissed so fucking good. It made you crazy. Just like everything else about him.

For fuck’s sake, you would never understand why you were in love with the one thing determined to destroy you.

“Stop. Stop,” you suddenly told him, panting and breathless.

Jaebeom looked at your hand pressed to his chest, watching you sit up on top of him, and his heart sank. He knew that look. You were about to bolt.

“I can’t do this,” you whispered, more to yourself as you brushed your hair out of your face with your fingers.

Jaebeom stroked his palms up your thighs, clad in the tightest jeans he had ever seen, and coaxed, “Why?”

You blinked, thinking of an answer. There were many, but you were trying to invalidate them on the spot.

Jaebeom sat up, wrapping an arm around your hips and rocking you closer to him. “Tell me,” he mumbled, pressing a wet kiss to your neck.

Your eyes fluttered and you felt resolve melting away each time his lips touched over your racing pulse.

“You’ll leave me again,” you cried shakily.

Jaebeom shook his head, proceeding to suck beneath your ear. “I’m not going anywhere,” he growled.

You ran your hands through his hair, hips arching ever so slightly in search of friction. Your body was heating up, excitement pulsing through your veins. You craved him. Lust was a powerful thing, and now you truly understood.

“I am,” you said firmly, pushing him back with both hands and rising to your feet.

Jaebeom slumped back, disappointed and defeated, and shook his hair out of his eyes. Watching you walk away, he begged, “Please stop sleeping with Jackson.”

You turned to face him, lips parting incredulously.

Seeing your anger, he lowered his tone to something more pliant, but definitely snide. “Give me a chance to make things right before you let him get his claws in you.”

It only confirmed what Jackson had said. Jaebeom’s newfound pursuit of you was solely from a place of jealousy. Your best friend had been right and you were too blind to accept it.

“You really are the worst,” you snapped at him, heading back on your way.

Jaebeom shouted vengefully, “He doesn’t fucking deserve you!”

You kept walking and retorted with disdain, “Story of my life, it seems. I guess I only fuck guys that don’t deserve me.”

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[wakaoujisenhime]

Hello!~ Can I ask for 200 event funny scenario about Rakuzan cute manager, who gets a lot of confession, so Rakuzan boys get jealous and want to protect her?

A/N: This turned out quite differently than I had originally planned it, but I hope you’ll like and enjoy it nonetheless! (∿°○°)∿ ♡  

Also, can someone explain to me why all the fluffy images of them are mostly without Mayuzumi?? This man deserves way more love (/ _ ; ) watch me edit him in there one day

Tags: Rakuzan x reader ✅ SFW ✅  fluff ✅

━━━━☆ ━━━━☆ ━━━━☆

Love letters - Rakuzan x reader

A small light blue whistle dangled from your neck as you shouted out to the jogging members of the basketball club: “Come on, guys, just one more round!“

Since your first year in Rakuzan, you had joined the basketball club and had become their manager. In the beginning, you weren’t really noticed by the team, but that was not surprising because the captain was being trusted and listened to more than the actual coach.

Akashi’s judgment was truly impressing, and you couldn’t help but respect him as well...but there was no way in hell you’d just sit back as the rest and leave every responsibility resting on this young man’s shoulders.

Much to everybody’s surprise, you’d just butt into their conversations and share your view on the topic. That action alone left a lot of your classmates and upperclassmen flabbergasted, and just some days later, the school had labeled you fearless for daring to directly speak with these overly respected men.

Back then, you didn’t know about their reputation and titles at all, so you acted purely instinctual. If someone had told you beforehand who they were, though, you probably would’ve kept your mouth shut. But that lucky ‘mistake’ was the exact reason for your wholesome relationship with them now...

You see, all these boys ever wanted - outside of the basketball club - was to be accepted by someone the way they were. They were also ‘normal’ students like you and your classmates...the only exception was their immense talent and sincerity for the sport they loved, so why did they get treated like some kind of abnormalities?

Their peers’ rumors and reserved attitudes seemingly didn’t bother them that much, but you knew better and managed to see past their façades. You genuinely cared for them and everything that involved their person.

At first, it seemed really unnatural to them. The fact that someone as adorable as you was out there, willing to invest the majority of their time for them and their talent truly made them happy.

Slowly but surely, they began opening up to you. After just a few months, you became their most trusted person, whom they could always go to in order to discuss any- and everything, so the moment something or someone stood between you guys, they wouldn’t even bat a lash to show their true colors.

——

“Good morning, manager!!” a chirpy and a deep voice simultaneously called out to you.

“Kotaro and Nebuya! Good morning you two.”

You were about to open your shoe locker and continue your daily conversation with the club members. Still, when you unlocked that small door, something pushed it open and ended up startling anybody who was remotely close to you.

“Are these...”

“Love letters?”

With a small and slightly uncomfortable smile, you kneeled down and picked the few envelopes up from the floor, turning to the two young men behind you whose wide eyes were about to pop out from their sockets.

“Yeah...someone has been putting these in my locker every morning for the past few weeks,“ you explained and giggled silently at the cute little stickers your mysterious admirer had chosen this time. Upon seeing that angelic smile of yours, the two basketball players began panicking internally and started bombarding you with one question after the other.

When did you receive the very first letter? Is there some kind of signature for the sender? Have they been following you around? Are they bothering you?

Just as you were about to answer them, the school bell interrupted you, and as much as you wanted to continue your talk with them, your classes were more important at the moment. So the three of you rescheduled that talk for later, during club activities, and went off to your respective classrooms.

——

“Huuh?! A secret admirer?”

“Yes!! Can you believe it?”

As soon as the last bell for today rang, Nebuya and Kotaro had sprinted to the gym to inform the others about today’s discovery.

Finding out that someone as valuable as you were being admired by someone else was no surprise, of course, but it still hurt them, and it even awoke a feeling they had never experienced before...jealousy.

Mayuzumi watched them discuss this topic with such seriousness that he couldn’t help but laugh at them internally, and as their upperclassman, he felt the urge to tear them off a strip.

“I hope you guys are aware that (Y/N) has a life of her own and is allowed to do whatever she wants with whoever she wants; it’s none of our business now, is it?”

The others had turned towards him and were wide-eyed by the fact that he had even openly spoken up on a topic that concerned you. He’d usually either choose to remain silent or pretend like he wasn’t listening.

Akashi nodded with a small smile and took it upon himself to answer the grey-haired young man. “I am pretty sure they’re aware of that, but you have to be honest with yourself and admit that it’ll be a huge loss for all of us if she were to find a boyfriend right when our team’s at its prime time.”

The third-year squinted his eyes at his captain. “You do know that you’re overreacting, right? I mean...all you have are her words and some envelopes that fell from her locker.”

“But they were sealed with cute heart stickers, right Ko-chan?!”

Reo chirped in as his light-colored eyes darted over to the blond in question, whose answer consisted of some energetic nods. Mayuzumi was slowly losing his patience with them, and just as he was about to counter that statement, your cheerful voice echoed in the entire gym, greeting your fellow club members.

It should’ve surprised you to see them stand this close to each other, but you figured that they were probably discussing something basketball-related, so you kept your questions to yourself and began preparing for today’s training.

They used that short moment to arrange a short meeting after practice to plan their next steps.

——

“Ok, what’s our way of procedure, guys?” asked Kotaro in an unusual humorless tone. Nebuya, who was standing behind him, couldn’t help but laugh out loud at how serious his goofy friend was. The bigger man wrapped his muscular arm around the boy’s shoulder and told him to relax. Reo watched the two of them fool around with a bothered expression. At the same time, Akashi smiled to himself, bringing the cup of tea to his lips. Mayuzumi, on the other hand, watched that somewhat controversial scene unfold in front of him. It was beyond him how you believed the obvious lie they told you at the end of today’s training.

The five of you had made it a tradition to always go to either the station or the nearest bakery after practice, and even though the third year himself never really wanted to accompany you all, you always made sure to drag him along...even if it was against his will. So when you had asked them if they wanted to go to get something sweet today, they all refused for the most ridiculous reasons, and he was sure that you’ll see through these obvious lies. But when you just innocently smiled at them, he figured that you either turned a blind eye to it or you truly believed that Nebuya was on a “no-meat-diet” and that Kotaro was going to study and do his homework.

“I do not entirely agree with this since it seems to be a rather...drastic approach,” answered Akashi after the muscular man next to him asked what he thought of the plan. He just suggested, “what about you, Mayuzumi? What’s your take on this?”

Said boy sighed and replied tiredly that whatever conclusion they’d reach would be too overdramatic and drastic.

“You do know that if she decides to get to know her secret admirer better, she won’t be having that much time to read novels and recommend them to you, right?” asked Reo with a mischievous grin.

Silence...

The grey-haired young man leaned forward and looked at his teammates.

“Ok, what’s the plan?”

——

1st step: obtain a letter from her locker...

“Good morning (Y/N).“

“Akashi, good morning!“

You were just about to open the small door of your locker, change your shoes and see if you had received another love letter, but that’s when the captain of the basketball club had stopped you. Wondering if something was wrong, you asked him if you could help him in some way.

“Oh, nothing is wrong; I merely wanted to inform you that one of your teachers asked the basketball club to visit some of the classes and advertise the club since a lot of the first- and second-years appear to not have joined any after-school-activity. So I wanted to ask if you perhaps know someone that might be interested in joining a club.”

While the two of you continued that talk, you failed to see how Kotaro sneaked up behind you, looked in your locker, gave the red-haired young man an unobtrusive signal that there was no letter to be found, and vanished as quickly and quietly as he’d come.

...if the first step fails, we just need to keep a good eye on her surroundings and look for people interested in her...

“(Y/N), someone’s here to see you!” said one of your classmates as they pointed to your classroom’s door, where Reo was standing and nonchalantly leaning against its frame. You thanked them and hurried over to where one of your best friends was standing.

“Hey, sweetie, sorry for bothering you, but I wanted to ask you if you wanted to join me during the break.”

It has been quite a while since the two of you had spent a break together, so you had no reason to refuse and happily accepted his invitation.

With Reo, you could always talk about every kind of topic, whether it was about the last wrestling match you watched on TV or the cute keychain you saw hanging from your neighbor’s bag. The two of you would always get so invested in your dialogue that you completely missed how some of the students were glancing at you and how some even turned their heads when you passed them. On the other hand, your companion noticed every single one of them, and with his keen eye for outer appearance, he managed to memorize their most prominent features.

...next up, we’ll look for our suspects and interrogate them, but some of them won’t be very talkative, so I suggest we pull out the big guns right from the get-go...  

Thanks to the descriptions Reo forwarded to the others, they quickly formed an ‘intimidation squad,’ distributed the students equally amongst each other, and went ahead to do their job.

Nebuya, as the tallest and most muscular out of the rest, was assigned to the first-year students. It was an easy and quick job to intimidate them. All he had to do was stand at the door and ask whether the person that fitted Reo’s description is present and that he wanted to talk about their interest in the club’s manager. Of course, no one gave the student in question away out of fear and worry about what the basketball team's center might do to them, but the message was successfully forwarded.

Mayuzumi, as the main team’s third-year, had to take care of the second-years. Thanks to his low presence and high self-pride, he expected that he’d get treated with the necessary respect as these students' senior. That was the case for two or three with whom he talked to. He was quite eloquent, and thanks to his broad novel expertise, he knew how to skillfully ask them whether or not they harbored any strong feelings for you that might have resulted in daily love letters. Others, though, didn’t seem to care what he had to say to them and when you became their talk’s topic, they started mocking him and calling him your stalker...and that’s when he lost his patience. His presence might be low, but the moment he gets annoyed, he’ll make sure that everyone knows about it. Mayuzumi took hold of the boy’s collar and brought him close to his own face.

“I don’t mind you insulting me, but stay away from her...if you don’t...I'll make to follow every step of yours, and you’ll have to constantly be on the lookout for me. You know what’s going to be so fun about it?... You’ll never know whether or not I’m there, so you better speak up and leave her alone or else...”  

The person who took care of the third-years was no other than Akashi himself. For him, it didn’t matter which year he had to talk to; he was respected, feared, and known by the entire school anyway. Like Nebuya, all he had to do was go to the people in question and ask them what their business with you was, and luckily the majority of them broke the moment they saw his icy glare. Unfortunately, one thought that he shouldn’t care about who this rumored emperor was and act according to his status. A bad decision, really...he was lucky enough that all Akashi got his hands on was a broomstick and not something sharper like scissors or even a compass. Long story short, the third-year was successfully interrogated and intimidated, another job well done.

While they were running around and collecting information, Kotaro and Reo were given the task of distracting you and constantly standing by your side, hindering any other people from coming too close to you. But when someone played with the thought of wanting to talk to or even look at you, the blond would only glare at that student until they gave up. Those who had more courage and didn’t get that easily intimidated were chased away by Reo’s overly interested attitude. The moment someone came up to you and just interrupted your talk with them, the black-haired young boy would butt in and start showering them with compliments until they either were too creeped out or completely mesmerized.

...our mission will only then be considered a success when she stopped receiving those letters, understood?

A week and a half had passed since the execution of their plan, and one afternoon, Kotaro and Nebuya decided to ask you about those letters.

“Oh, those? I stopped receiving them some days ago..”

You weren’t as affected as they had expected you to be, but they were glad and happy nonetheless, knowing that their plan had worked. Now, you were theirs, and no one else’s, and anyone who wanted to take you away from them is hopefully prepared for the consequences...