#there will be a part 2! I'm still working on it!

[sky-scribbles]

I'm going to say something controversial. I think there's something Veilguard does better than any other Dragon Age game. Namely: incorporating the companions into the plot.

Look, I love Origins as much as everyone. But to be frank: you could cut every companion except Alistair, Morrigan and Loghain and the plot could still work. Once you've finished the mission where you recruit a companion, there aren't other main quests that involve them in any way.

Oghren and Wynne could have stayed home after their recruitment missions for all the difference it would make to the main plot. Sten, Leliana and Zevran could vanish and nothing would change, because once they're on your team, they don't interact with the main plot at all. (There's the Temple of Sacred Ashes, I suppose - but even then, you'd be going on that quest whether Leliana and Wynne were there or not, and it's very telling that they can both die here and next to nothing in the rest of the game is impacted.)

Again: I love Origins. This doesn't detract from any of these characters being great, or from the story being great. It just means there's a layer of separation between the two. They're involved in the story, but they're not driving it, and you seldom get to see them have strong feelings about it.

DA2 is a huge step up. Your companions' personal stories are integral parts of the main plot. You can't do the Deep Roads expedition without witnessing Karl's death and its impact on Anders. You can't enter Act 2 without seeing Varric's brother betray him, or watching your sibling either die or begin a new path in life. Act 2's climax happens because of choices Isabela and Aveline have made. Act 3's endgame is all about Anders making one enormous decision. Even Fenris and Merrill, who have the fewest ties to the plot, have strong reasons to be invested in the Mage/Templar conflict.

And then Inquisition just... backslides. There are multiple companions you don't need to recruit at all, or can send away with zero alteration to the main plot. Your companions don't like Corypheus because he's bad, but no one - except maybe Varric - has any strong personal feelings about him. They have no personal stake in defeating him, not like Alistair has a personal stake in opposing Loghain, or Anders in opposing Meredith.

We go to the Winter Palace, and Vivienne is not made a part of that story. We have a whole subplot about the Wardens, and Blackwall only gets a couple of extra lines, if you even bring him. Their personal arcs could have been somehow impacted by these missions, and they're just... not. Sera is packed with internalised self-hatred that manifests as trying to distance herself from elven culture, to the point of sometimes lashing out at other elves. And despite all the missions you do where elven history features... Sera's growth past that flaw happens entirely offscreen between the base game and Trespasser?????

IMO, this is one of the biggest reasons why Corypheus is such a bland villain. He doesn't make anyone grow, except by starting a plot for them to be part of. He doesn't challenge them emotionally. No one is invested in him. Because no one interacts with the darn plot.

Veilguard, though? Veilguard keeps your companions interacting with the story the whole way through. The Treviso/Minrathous choice affects both Lucanis and Neve heavily, and impacts who they become for the rest of the game. These cities are personal to you, even if you're not a Crow or Shadow Dragon, because your companions love them.

The Siege of Weisshaupt is beyond personal to Davrin and Lucanis, both of whom are entrusted with major parts of the quest: trying to kill the archdemon and Ghilan'nain. Lucanis is affected by his failure to kill Ghilan'nain for ages afterward. Davrin is haunted by survivor's guilt; he should have died when he struck down the archdemon. He's alive. How can he live with that?

Whenever killing the gods becomes a possibility, Rook hands the lyrium dagger to Lucanis. When the squad go to fight the gods' dragons with the Wardens, Taash is the one to flush the first dragon out. When you infiltrate the Venatori, Neve tricks your way in, and everything that happens is especially weighty to Bellara, whose people have been abducted. On Tearstone Island, because of how Lucanis and Spite have grown, they strikes true.

Did you not hate Elgar'nan before that mission? Because you probably will after you watch him capture Bellara or Neve, and see his fellow god kill Harding or Davrin.

You know what's a great piece of writing? There's no reason Emmrich shouldn't have been an option to deal with the wards on Tearstone Island; he's one of the ideal options to take out more wards with the Veil Jumpers in the final mission. But you can't select him to do it. Because Emmrich has far less personal investment in the Elgar'nan battle than the other two. This is Neve's city. This is the monster who tries to call himself Bellara's god. The game makes sure the characters who take control of the Blight at the end are the ones with the greatest stakes in doing so.

One of your companions, not you, wrests command of the Blight from Elgar'nan. The final mission depends on how well you've come to know each companion's skills. They're just... always involved.

And they're invested, too. The companions all have serious personal reasons to hate the antagonists by the end. Lucanis and Neve have either seen their city burn, or know it happened at the cost of their friend's (and potential partner's) hometown. Davrin has seen his order devastated. These are Bellara's and Davrin's supposed gods, and instead of helping the elves reclaim their history and culture, they're trying to enslave the world. Harding learns that the Evanuris maimed and destroyed her Titan ancestors.

Emmrich and Taash have perhaps the smallest emotional tie - and sadly I do think Emmrich especially gets underutilized in the plot. But heck, Taash is still hella motivated by the way the gods are abusing dragons. And Emmrich is tied thematically to the main conflict. He's facing the question of immortality, while nigh-immortal beings are right in front of him, proving how that gift can be abused. The final choice of his personal arc is whether he's willing to embrace his personal, mortal attachments, at the cost of consequences that terrify him... you know, the same question that Solas faces at the end.

And don't even get me started on how everyone is emotionally tied to Solas. Harding and Neve watched him kill Varric in front of them. Everyone not dead or captured has to watch him drag Rook into the Fade. Just about every companion faces some kind of huge regret or failure at some point, in constant foreshadowing for Solas's prison of regret: both the literal one he sticks Rook in, and the mental one of his own making.

Veilguard has its problems, but it absolutely shines at keeping its characters involved and invested in the main story. It gives them things to do, it gives them reasons to care. For all the flaws this game has, this part is good writing.

[theatre-gay-they]

Ok off topic but I just did a reading on the definition of "technology" for school and it was pretty cool

I thought it was pretty compatible with like historical materialism. And I wrote a few hundred words on the relationship between technology and creativity:

Reading 2: Nye-Define Technology includes the quote “Such a definition includes such actions as making pottery, building a bridge, and carving a statue. Just as important, Aristotle related the crafts to the sciences, notably through mathematics” (pg. 7). This definition of technology (or rather, “techne”) is obviously very old, but it shows connection between theory (mathematics, “applied sciences”) and practice (art, creation, “technology”). There certainly is theory (I’d imagine, even then) of how to create a statue, materials and angles and the like, but a statue can only be created, well, creatively, and is largely learnt through imitation, similar to how lab work is best understood by imitating TAs (or videos of TAs). Personally, I find myself best at something when it feels creative, although most of my interests and skills are not generally considered so. In fact, different from what Aristotle presents here, I’ve often found math (and especially logic) to be a creative problem-solving exercise. I also understand the value of creation, and I chose my current degree (computer engineering) over software engineering because, although I was (and am) good at programming and enjoy it, there was a joy in seeing that program produce something in the real world (in first year, the robot moving). Even though I understand the effects of computers (and that they are very much part of the “real world”), it was incredible to see my work having visible effects in the real wold, and I hope those effects will become more impactful during my career. I think this also emphasizes a later part of the text about the gendering of technology. “Technology” is a very gendered term, not including many of the crafts seen as feminine, although “techne” did (assuming at least some “useful arts” were considered feminine in Ancient Greece)(pg. 14).

Off topic 2: I think there is still (useful) work to be done in terms of speed ups, but I can only speak to fields I've worked in, and I'm rather shit at performance testing (I tended to just write functional tests), but if the papers I was reading and implementing are to be believed there's a lot of potential speed ups to be found in higher precision parallel algorithms (usually through splitting the inputs into lower presion types)

[hyperfixiation-station]

Behind Enemy Lines Pt.1

CW: Torture, Canon-typical violence, talk of derealization, disassociation Summary: You were a friendly medic, captured years ago and held prisoner, forced to do do the bidding of your captors. Years later, a man by the name of Ghost is dragged in and changes the trajectory of your life. A/N: I had severe ADHD, and i am unmedicated rn, and it makes it really hard to work on things unless I get the hyperfocused drive for it, so I'm sorry I'm so bad at making the other parts to my fics. Know that I will never abandon them. it just might take me a while. idea part 2

You fought back, at first. Way back when you first got captured, taken from your base camp and dragged through miles and miles of harsh terrain, blindfolded and bound. A medic you were, yes. But your team had trained you with the best of them. You spent the whole time trying to escape, kicking and screaming until they bound your legs and gagged you. You spent the first month of captivity refusing to talk to them, hissing and spitting and pretending their punches didn’t hurt. But it didn't take you long to realize it was better to cooperate, or to at least be civil. Civility got you less broken bones, less pain, more rations, more sleep. Cooperation didn’t come till later, when you finally realized your team wasn't coming for youthey were dead but you didn't know that.

Surprisingly, the whole mouth-getting-sewn-shut didn't happen till a couple years in... they were torturing someone, a man who said he had kids and a wife at home, whose only wish was that they left something recognizable of him so they could get some closure. You begged them to stop. Begged them to stop when his wounds became too numerous to count, too much for you to handle. Begged because you started to care for him as he told you about his son and daughter, how they want him home for Christmas(You didn't have the heart to tell him Christmas was 6 days ago) Told them that he would die no matter what you did if they continued. Well, they didn't stop, and he did die... and you found yourself ringing in the new year by being strapped to a table.

“We warned you to stop talking with him.” They said as they clamped the metal shut over your forehead and chin, holding you in place. “We told you to not get attached, but since you can’t seem to do it on your own, we’ll help you.” The feeding tube came 2 weeks later, shoved up your nose when they realized you were starving...they couldn't lose their favorite medic of course.

You stopped paying attention to the passage of time after that, spent most of your days drifting in and out of reality, moving through the motions with a practiced ease. And it would have remained that way, if it wasn’t for a man in a skull mask with a team- a family- looking for him. 

Your first introduction to him ended up with you getting a broken nose. Per usual, you were shoved into the cell, medical kit in hand, ready to fix up whatever damage your captors had done the their poor prisoner.

The mask he had been wearing when you saw him dragged in was gone, and he had a gash that went all the way through his cheek that would need stitching up. You pull out your equipment, moving slowly towards his bleeding face. 

he headbutted you the moment you got close enough for him to reach, and the crunch of bone and the gush of warm blood followed, not that you noticed. You were still in that dreamlike state, not quite tether to reality in the way you should be. You barely noticed when they tranqued him, and the only reason you didn't finish his stitches is because you passed out too(it’s hard to breathe through a bloody, broken nose)

The next time you approach more carefully, but he’s no trouble. Mostly because they left him completely strapped to the table this time. Today was a rare day, a time when you  could actually feel your feet on the ground rather than just see them. You feel bad as you wipe him down, your eyes flicking over the myriad of scars on his body. What’s one more you think to yourself as you get to work stitching a stab wound to his thigh. Just barely missed the artery here…that could have been bad news. Okay tie it off and- there we go. I think the only other thing that need to- oh, is he…talking to me? I should probably pay attention to that.

“-here?” His voice is gravely, though you suppose yours would be too after being tortured. He stares at you expectantly, and you shrug. You don’t know what he said, and even if you did, you couldn’t answer. You just move to his wrist, snapping the bone back in place. He inhales sharply, but doesn’t make an actual sound, which surprises you. But you don’t dwell on it, wrapping a bandage around his arm and moving to exit the room. 

“Y’ no’ g’nna lemme off?” His voice sounds, “they said y’ would.” You spin around, staring at him. You're not stupid. And even if your…bosses had said that, you still wouldn’t do it. Being trapped in a room with a man who is at least a foot taller than you and looks like he could kill a man with his glare? No thank you. 

You take a step back, heading towards the door. The man lets out a sound you would barely qualify as a laugh. “Sm’rt then.” He says to himself, “No’ gonna be that easy.” 

The next time you go in, you can't help but wonder what they want from this man. By now they usually would have killed him off. Oh well, not your job to wonder. You clean him up, splinting the fingers they had broke when he talks to you again.

"why don't y' let me die?" He says, voice just as gravely as before, "Put me outa m' misery?" You don't respond, just keep taping his hand. IT's something you ad asked yourself, right at the beginning. It would be kinder for you to just let your patients die. But you couldn't do it. Partially because you were punished anytime someone died before your captors wanted them to, but also because you were a medic. YOu were there to heal. You couldn't stomach letting someone die by your hand.

"Answer me!" The man snarls, bringing you back to the present, "For god's sake y' never talk, fuckin' mute." You don't respond, of course. Just finish your task and leave him to his thoughts.

He’s angrier after that time, you’ve noticed. The few times you're actually present, he’s fighting you. Usually not with words, but he bucks and doesn’t hold still. He’s tried to grab your medical supplies countless times, and one time you actually had to be pulled out because he jerked his arm while you were stitching him and somehow managed to drive the needle into your own hand. The few times he does actually yell at you, you’re usually not paying attention. You can catch words like “Dishonorable”  and “Disgraceful”. You aren’t entirely sure of the context of the words, but you can guess. You’ve treated enough prisoners who think that you are the world's worst human being, a blight to the medical field, to guess what he's trying to tell you. 

It's funny though, this man so full of hate. Because, for the first time in goodness knows how long, your feet are on the ground, and your head is level. Something about this man, his angry, uncrushed demeanor, even after weeks of torture, stirs emotion in you that you can’t quite identify. And maybe you should be grateful, thankful your head is on right, but you're not. You so desperately want to go back to that place of apathy and detachment, where your emotions weren’t so strong, were the pains of mishealed bones and poorly healed scars didn’t plague your waking moments. 

Or maybe it wasn’t the man- The Ghost, as you found out he was called. Maybe it was the fact that something in the air had changed. The air was electric, charged with tension so thick you could feel it even alone in your cot. They were watching you, you could tell. Could feel their eyes tracking your movements in a way they hadn’t since first giving you freedom to move around. 

You're not sure why. It’s not like you have anyone to go home to. You were an only child, and your parents had died long before you reached 18. All you had was your team, a team that had seemingly abandoned you. So why would you leave? There was nowhere to go. And yet they watched you. Was it because you were becoming more aware, more grounded then you had been in a long while? Was it the man, Ghost, who had them on edge? 

The answer came two days later. You were in Ghost's cell again, desperately packing gauze into a gaping hole on his side. You don’t know what had happened, but for the first time in years you were dragged from your cell, your captors muttering under their breath in a language you still didn’t understand as they thrust you into his cell. Blood was everywhere. Your best guess was that Ghost had been struggling and an instrument had slipped and gouged out a hole in his side. So here you are, packing gauze into the wound as you try to figure out what to do to keep him alive with your rudimentary supplies. 

You pack another piece of gauze in just as the door goes flying open. Men, dressed in black, wearing the same mask Ghost was, come bursting in. 

“Get back!” The one in the front yells at you, gun pointed in your face. You shake your head, hands pressed against Ghost’s wound. 

“Now!” You make a protesting noise, trying to gesture with your chin. The man looks down, eyes widening. 

“Aw shit- are you the medic?” You nod almost desperately. The man looks at you again, staring at your hands. They are shaking, pressed against the wound as you try to keep Ghost from bleeding out. 

“Fix him.” The man snaps. You shake your head and look up at the man, trying to communicate that you need more supplies. 

“Use your words.” The man gabs the gun at you, indicating he wants you to get on with it. You stomp your foot, shaking your head again. 

“What, what's that supposed..…you can’t speak, can you?” You nod, glad he finally got it. The man groans, lowering his gun.

“You’re coming with us, but you make one wrong move, and I mean one, I will put a bullet through your brain before you can even speak. Got it?” He gestures to the other two men with him, and together you lift Ghost up, carrying him out to safety.

A/N- anyways, here's part one. Sorry if it disappoints anyone

tags, sorry if i missed any:

@redzluvvesage @just-a-harmless-potato-05  @vesna-the-spring @princess312 @norsehorseofcourse-blog @bonniperinktrance @soggywafflezz  @littlebunie @sirbonesly @havoc973 @mommymilkers0526 @thegreyjoyed @pinkiliciousgunp0int @poopoobuttsy @darcellethedreamer @kamote-kuneho

[edwinspaynes]

Do you think there is a way to ethically watch Sandman and Good Omens? What about Dead Boy Detectives?

Andddd this was why I originally turned off anons. I knew this was coming eventually, but I guess I'll respond just this once so everyone knows where I stand.

I don't love that I feel the need to disclose this, but I have personally experienced grooming and sexual assault in the past. So this post is coming from someone who has Been There and understands the importance of supporting victims. I also love all of the efforts NG-related fandoms have been putting into raising money for sexual assault charities. It's wonderful to see people rallying behind the survivors and supporting them so vocally.

- DEAD BOY DETECTIVES: NOT A GAIMAN WORK

I do not think that there is a world where Dead Boy Detectives would be unethical to stream. It has virtually nothing to do with Neil Gaiman, by his own admission, and is the brain-child of Steve Yockey.

Besides the first chapter where Charles and Edwin were introduced (with no development), he didn't even write the comics! Several artists did, including Toby Litt and Mark Buckingham - whose run the show is based on and who the sprites are named after.

Yockey was the sole person to pitch DBDA to Warner Brothers. Gaiman did not do that.

Streaming Dead Boy Detectives primarily supports its writers, cast, and crew - Gaiman, who only wrote 2 scenes, is getting essentially nothing in terms of royalties.

Someone on Twitter did a really good job of unpacking why Dead Boy Detectives shouldn't be lumped in with Gaiman stuff - I'll link it here.

But this leads me to the next section.

- HANDLING GOOD OMENS AND SANDMAN

I think that there are a lot of valid reactions to the way people handle the consumption of Gaiman's shows after what he has done.

Some people are going to be unable to stomach anything he has written, and that is okay. Others whose lives have been massively impacted by his work aren't going to be able to let go since - and I know people like to deny this, but it's true - the art you love more than love itself is going to have a serious material impact on your personality.

Both of these approaches are alright! The only incorrect approach is to harass those who disagree with your personal choices.

It also is, in my opinion, Bad to give Gaiman money. Purchasing his books and buying Good Omens official merch puts cash in his pocket.

Streaming the shows, though, is a little more nuanced to me.

I'm going to use Good Omens as an example here. I personally will not be continuing with Good Omens. It gives me a Yucky Feeling. I may one day change my mind and stream a pirated version, but I don't think so.

However, I don't think Sheen and Tenant's fans are wrong to stream it in support of the actors who have brought their favourite characters to life.

But this leads me into my next point, and the point that will probably get me Canceled.

- THE IMPACT OF SHOWS ON PEOPLE

The way that people handle their favourite shows post-allegations is going to depend on the impact that the show had on their life.

I like Good Omens. It's a fun show. I enjoyed it while watching it, and think (see: thought) positively of it. But it had no real deep impact on my life - it's not part of me. When I look at Good Omens now, I see Gaiman's work above the finished product. It puts a sour taste in my mouth.

But in a hypothetical world, if Dead Boy Detectives were a Gaiman production? I have the self-awareness to know that I probably would still stream it to support the cast and crew. I am attached enough to it that I think I would divorce it entirely from Gaiman (if he were the creator, which he is not.) My point is that other people who are still streaming Sandman and GO probably don't look at it and see Gaiman. They see something that they have absorbed into themselves.

The part that's going to get me canceled is that if George cameos in Sandman, I will stream that one (1) episode to support George Rexstrew (Edwin Payne's actor). This is because Edwin has had a material impact on my life (hilariously, because I am a sexual violence survivor who did not get justice, and Edwin did not get justice for his murder and fights for that.) I feel that Edwin is part of me and my life, because Edwin (and George's work as Edwin) has made me feel less alone.

A lot of people feel that way about Crowley and Aziraphale.

I think that asking people to ditch a show, characters, and performers that have had a deep impact on their lives is unfair to them. Like, yes, Neil Gaiman is a bag of shit! Anyone who defends him is also a bag of shit! But I don't think that it's fair to stop people from supporting works that have had big material impacts on their own lives.

- HOW TO PROCEED

TL;DR

My personal ideal outcome here would be:

Wrap up Good Omens with the 90-minute movie and nothing else.

Wrap up Sandman with season 2, and do not renew.

Revive Dead Boy Detectives WITH THE CAVEAT that Gaiman gets his name removed from it, even if he currently isn't making much money off it. Take the Sandman characters and references from DBDA and let it become its own standalone thing.

Cancel all future Gaiman productions and never hire him to work on television or anything else again.

Let Gaiman's career die entirely and let him fade into obscurity.

Arrest Gaiman, which will never happen but it should.

I think people should:

Stop giving Neil Gaiman money through books or merch.

Make their own decisions about whether or not to officially stream the shows in support of the actors and crew members who have worked hard on it.

Not harass anyone for either their decision to stream the show, not stream the show, or stream a pirated version of the show.

Engage as much as they want with fandom and fanworks, as they are divorced from the source material's creator.

Vocally speak up against Neil Gaiman. Amplify the voices of the survivors, and don't let fear for the future of your show get in the way of that. At the end of the day, real women were put through the most traumatic and horrifying experience of their lives, and that's what matters most.

[nerdlvr]

ok but who in dream would be into big boobs cause like I feel like some of them would but I need you to tell me too!!!!🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

i think all men would die for big boobs HOWEVER! there's a ranking..

renjun ,, don't hate me... but ik damn well jun is a titty feen. he loves to grope and suck on your tits 24/7 and will beg you to let him titty fuck you... it's lowkey a mommy kink thing for him hehehe

mark ,, i'm pushing the pervert mark agenda IDC OK! he's the type of mf to watch hentai and shit and try to laugh it off when he gets cuaght which leads me to -> his infatuation with big juicy jugs is borederline and addiction,, will nut just watching you play with your tits

haechan ,, my boy loves some big ol' titties what can i say. he's a messy lover so being able to grab your tits, bite, and suck on that extra meat drives him insane (also part of the titty fucking committee)

jeno ,, my man loves some meat on his girls. say what you want but my big boy needs the WHOLE PACKAGE. he doesn't have a preference for ass or tits, but when his girl has either it drives him insane. automatically will develop a tit play kink if you have big boobs and can't stop thinking about marking you up in every way possible to show you that they're his.

jisung ,, pervert #2. 23 year old with a repressed libido, yeah he has his fair share of porn time (aka goon central). he doesn't have a preference much like jeno (as long as he can fuck) but he can't help but ogle if the girl has huge tits, he will think of them bouncing, jiggling, squeezing them in his face. will jokingly ask to motorboat you but it actually gets him off.

jaemin ,, another one that has no preference but still, by nature, loves tits. he doesn't love your tits cause they're huge, he loves them cause they're part of you. will never forget to worship your breasts and let you know how much he loves them. (secretly super into titty sucking but gets embarrassed to ask).

chenle ,, i feel like chenle's a man that works with what he's got. it's not like he prefers large or small breasts, he just loves tits period. feel like chenle is the type to love ur tits outside of sexual context and will beg you to let his hold up tit in his mouth while he falls asleep or watched tv. if it's a functional boob that's enough for him.

[bigthingsforeverintheworks]

Ok I almost took a media literacy L here before I decided to check out their website. First off it is just a publishing company, they're not writing them with AI or writing them at all.

The core business model is that you pay them a (relatively small, starting at $1500 dollars, they say up to $5000) sum of money up front and then they publish it, and you get all of the royalties, and much quicker than normal at that. Now that may seem odd, how are they making money from this?

Luckily their website has a list of famous company names

no clue what that means but those sure are companies (they do say on a different webpage that these are places they have "appeared in". Always glad to see that a company has articles that were made about it.

They have this testimony and yep the book sure does exist and was published by these guys, you can buy it from 6 different sites (none of them have any reviews but some have a preview and I mean. it looks fine, I don't know a lot about it but it doesn't seem that good on first glance).

So what they do is:

Proofreading (there's an option to get a human to do it for a "small extra fee", no numbers are given), this seems fine enough although I'm sure a human could do it. But weirdly enough they have this testimonial

First off this guy is talking about editing not proofreading which. kind of weird. But also it's just one of those things where like. Granted I haven't published a book but generally my understanding is editors are not evil and these types of people tend to be too protective of their work. Also this is just digging at traditional publishing.

2. AI design covers for you

Sure why not. I mean it won't be as good & you're not paying artists but whatever.

Stunning picture of a guy who discovered what AI does

3. They make AI audiobook & does advertising/printing (unclear if you need to pay for this)

Now looking at their blog-posts. First off we see this wonderful one where they explain how online publishers work.

Hm. Any conflict of interest there? This is a relatively standard practice (at least among tech companies) to put your own product in the same "objective" stance.

Anyhow they also have one about AI publishers.

Shockingly they're talking about it from a "make the numbers gooder" perspective but it's fine (besides the part where they don't link their sources but ok). They do keep talking about how editing in a way that makes it just seem like "that thing you do where you pay a company money and then they let you publish it" instead of a process wherein another person tries to help you improve the book.

A lot of it is just stuff where I have to either take their word on it or not.

Like ok optimizing a book for marketability is already on the wrong track but if i wanted to do so is AI the right place for that? Who knows. I do have a suspicion these articles are written by AI not just based on the AI-generated images

(look at the keyboards) but the redundancy and their classic list format does make it seem somewhat likely, Granted they do have human authors listed & I'm not really that interested in AI-vestigating companies but worth noting.

As for the article screenshotted in the original post, https://www.thebookseller.com/news/new-publisher-spines-aims-to-disrupt-industry-by-using-ai-to-publish-8000-books-in-2025-alone

For the record they were already in publishing before shifting to AI

And... they just seemingly don't get the point? Or they view all of these professions as just obstacles to the core essence of the book. But this is pretty clearly a non-answer.

Now for how they make money.

let's do some quick math. We assume they have 6 books at 20 ratings each, and 1 in 5 people leaves a review. Each book costs around 15 dollars (based on looking up one of the book's prices). That means they make 9000 dollars. (Probably less given the book sellers take a cut) but still that would be a decent profit for the author. Except I don't know where the 100% royalties they boast comes from. On their terms and service they say this:

and this is only when you earn more than $25 in a certain period (the period gets shorter as you pay them more)

But don't worry about literally anything financial that's not the point!

"I want to help bring books to the masses" yeah that's what publishing does. Ok but he means writing books as a hobby and/or legacy, same thing. Well no the writing you do on your own it's the publishing. Because the physical copies are very necessary. Like I don't know if i'm in the minority but I'd rather read a free PDF than buy something with an AI-generated cover, and if authors don't care about profit then they should too.

This guardian article has points about how it actually works & its similarities to existing types of publishing.

Initial reactions that still hold:

Why that image?

Why are they called Spine?

What are they even disrupting?

Things that don't really hold: Oh ew they're writing 8000 books with AI? Why?

Things I'm mixed on:

Anything about the actual humans; they do actually employ as of now 15 people who provide some services (e.g. a production manager) but also their goal is mostly to replace the traditional humans (who they view with disdain) with as much AI as possible before it becomes bad

Everyone involved in this should be catapulted into the sun.

A new publisher plans to churn out 8000 books in 2025 using AI. Everything about this from the massive waste of energy to the absence of any creative curiosity is utterly fucking depressing.

[bbsmuts]

Field Trip Part 3: The Harem Expedition Ft. BLACKPINK Jennie & Lisa, Everglow E:U, TWICE Sana & Momo, G-IDLE Minnie, and ITZY Ryujin

A/N: I was planning on waiting until the poll was finished to release this, but since 85% of the voters said release Field Trip 3 and make FT4 a thing, I decided to release it early. You're welcome. This has been sitting in my draft list since September 2024, and I'm glad to finally get it out. FT4 work will be starting immediately. As a note, I'm diving more into girl-on-girl action here, just because it's hot. Anyway, I hope everyone enjoys this, since it's taken me a long time and a lot of effort to write. But I'm really excited to publish this. What's weird is that I'm SO excited to finally get this series finished, but I'll be sad to say goodbye to it when FT4 rolls around. I really had to do my homework with this, because there are a lot of unknowns involved. I've never been to Kenya, nor do I know anyone from Kenya, so I had to do a lot of research to find things out. I'm not sure if I already mentioned this or not, but the tribe in questions is supposed to be the Kikuyu tribe, Kenya's largest. For the purposes of the fic, Jaali is a major figure in the tribe and has a lot of connections, because without both facts they wouldn't be able to get up to all the shit they do. The good part about this is that there's so many people and so many parts, if you don't like what's going on where you're reading you can just fine a part that suits you.

I'm bringing in a few old and new characters, including three I've never used before, those being E:U, Minnie, and Ryujin. I highly recommend that if you haven't read the previous parts (linked below), you go ahead and do that before moving on to this one. At least skim them, so you have some semblance of an idea of what's going on.

Note that, since I'm going to be using the word a lot, "Kahaba" means "slut" or "whore". It's kinda becoming Jennie's nickname here.

-상훈

Length: 18.07k

Possible TW: Everything. I'll just put that out there.

Tags: BDSM and all that entails, slave/master, gangbang, lesbian, dubcon, a hell of a lot of cunnilingus and blowjobs, rimming, orgasm denial

WARNING: Intense and graphic sexual violence and degradation are depicted in this smut, even more than Part 2. If you are easily triggered by or sensitive to such content, I strongly advise that you stop reading here. I do not assume any responsibility or liability for accidents that may occur as a result of reading this work.

Look, you know this series, you can guess how this story's gonna go. And trust me when I say that this will be more intense than even part 2. If this kind of kinky shit isn't your cup of tea, don't read it. Don't say I didn't warn you.

Field Trip | Field Trip Part 2

Late at night, most people are in their beds, sleeping.

Not Kim Jennie.

Oh, was in bed, yes, but she was definitely not sleeping. That possibility had long since departed from her. She was currently having a one-on-one fuckfest with Chiumbo, who she found particularly attractive among the guards. His name, as he had told her in an adorable accent earlier, meant "little", which was rather ironic considering the massive, bulging muscles and vascularity in his arms, both of which she had a good view of right now.

"Fuck..yes..." Eyes half lidded and mind almost completely checked out after five consecutive orgasms, she couldn't string words together really well. Every stroke of the absolute monster he had been hiding in his loincloth pushed her nearer to her sixth. Her body was still very sore from the day's activities with Lisa, from the cane marks on her breasts to the whip streaks on her ass, but was that going to stop her from sating the endless craving for their cocks that she constantly felt? No, sir.

"Oh god...yesss...fuck me...harder...master!" The pure dirtiness and depravity of the words leaving her mouth only served to make her wetter, hornier, more turned on. She loved every aspect of being the slutty slave she was; and there was no way, ever, that she could go back to the smaller dicks and vanilla sex back home. Hands bound together above her head and legs tied apart, she was helpless to whatever Chiumbo wanted to do to her.

"Yes, you like that, kahaba?"

"Mmm... yes...master...I love it," she purred, biting her lip and looking up at his defined, sculpted figure above her. "Please...give it to me... harder..."

He subsequently increased the pace and force of his strokes, ramping up her pleasure and getting her very close to her sixth orgasm.

"Fuck...master...I'm so c-close..." He lowered his hand from her neck and his fingers made contact with her clit, rubbing and circling the small, sensitive nub.

All across the village, a pleasured, blissful scream could be heard, along with the faint splatter of liquid on skin.

———

"Good morning, sleepyhead."

Jennie awoke from her peaceful slumber to Lisa sitting beside her, the sunlight shining through the window and illuminating her blonde hair. A smile graced her face as Jennie's eyes opened and she sat up drowsily, sheets falling down over her naked, used, and abused body.

"You look like someone took a whip and beat you senseless with it."

"Hmm, really?" Jennie replied blandly. "I wonder why."

She got out of bed and then realized she had no clothes to put on.

"Shit, my suitcase is back at the hotel in Nairobi. And so is yours."

Lisa shrugged. "Guess we'll be going around nude then. I'm not complaining; it's hot as hell out here."

Jennie scoffed as she opened the door and stepped out into the morning sun. "Oh, don't kid yourself, you just like being eyed by the villagers."

Not many villagers were outside other than the guards, but the spits Jennie and Lisa had been suspended on were still there, a reminder of yesterday's activities. The guards were standing outside Jaali's hut, spears crossed over the door, and they didn't move as the two approached the door.

Jennie stopped in front of them, waiting to be let in, but the spears still didn't move.

"State your business."

Jennie raised an eyebrow impatiently. "Come on, you know what we're coming for. Let us in."

Fast as lightning, the guard's hand shot out and grabbed her by the neck, pulling her close, and he growled into her face,

"You better watch how you speak to me, kahaba."

Gulping, Jennie nodded quickly, aroused by his agression. "Y-yes, sorry, master."

From inside the hut, she could hear a chuckle and then words.

"Let them in, Ruhiu."

He released her neck and they uncrossed their spears, allowing the two to enter the large hut. Jaali was reclining on a bed, one hand idly fiddling with a knife on his bedside table.

"Salamu kwako, my little kahabas." (Greetings to you)

"Erm...good morning, master." Lisa said.

"Your friend, Miss Jennie," he said, tossing the knife up and catching it by the handle flawlessly, "has, as expected, agreed to my arrangement."

"I know, sir." She replied, looking over to see Lisa blushing. "She's a slut just like me."

He smirked. "Interesting. Well, today I thought we'd play a little game, with a few harmless stakes. What would you say to that, my little sluts?"

"What's the game, sir?" Jennie asked, intrigued.

"Well, here's the deal. I'm going to fuck you, and try my very best to make you cum as many timed as I can. However many times you cum is the number of lashes you get later, times ten. How would you like that, kahabas?"

Now blushing herself, Jennie looked down at her fidgeting hands, knowing she was in for a hell of a day.

"I...I like the sound of that, sir."

Thinking about it, she realized that a simple three orgasms would earn her thirty lashes, which themselves would be enough to make her cum again when she got them.

His smirk widened to a grin. "I thought so. Now, you," he said, pointing to Lisa, who immediately stood at attention, "I'll be leaving you to the guards. They'll be gathered outside. You can go out to them now."

Lisa shivered and her cheeks went furiously red. With a muttered "Yes, master", she opened the door and exited. The footsteps of the group died away, leaving Jennie and Jaali alone. He threw the blankets off himself and stood up, stretching, and conveniently for Jennie's lustful gaze, flexing every muscle in his body. But it wasn't her mouth watering, no. It was somewhere lower.

"Now, my little slut," he said, sitting back down, "we shall see. I must warn you that I have never failed to make a woman cum in my life, so I think you'll be quite easy to make cum as many times as I care to make you. But the more you cum, the sorer you'll be later.

"I'm okay with that, master~" (See how tildes make everything better?)

He laughed. "Of course you are. But let's see how you feel about later today once you've had...say...10 orgasms?"

She shivered in both arousal and slight fear. Really, she knew she would gladly accept any number of lashes he was willing to dole out. Clearly his mind was filled with similar thoughts, as he was already getting hard. The mere sight of it, combined with the thought of what he would do to her today, immediately made her wetter. She sidled over to him, cheeks already starting to get hot in arousal.

"On your knees."

"Yes, master." She immediately dropped to her knees in front of him.

Staring in awe and lust at his massive cock, she wasted no time in leaning forward and taking it into her mouth.

"Good girl." His hand gathered her hair into a rough ponytail and shoved her head further down, making her gag but turning her on more. "Just a dirty little whore desperate to be punished and used, hm?"

She nodded fervently, doubling her efforts. The sounds of her gags and chokes could almost definitely be heard by the few villagers who were starting to rouse themselves and get out and about, and she found that the thought of their ecouteurism just made her more wet. One of her hands drifted down between her own legs and rubbed hard, the other reaching up to stroke what little of his length she couldn't handle.

"A true stroke of luck that you should decide to visit us here, little slut," he commented, a quiet groan escaping his lips. "Such a good slave, yes?"

She nodded again, thoroughly enjoying being degraded like this.

"Good girl. While we are here, I may as well discuss with you my plan of attack if you would, for your friend from last time." His grip on her hair tightened and he pulled harder, making her eyes roll back as his whole length pushed into her throat. "I, along with you, your blonde friend, and a few of my best men will go to Korea to find her. With any luck, we will find more potential slaves along the way. I assume you have more friends back home for me to dominate?"

She nodded once more, pussy getting wetter by the second. Her fingers worked faster, pumping in and out of herself as fast as she was capable.

"Good. I'm not here plenty of the time, I have some connections that span well outside of this village. Those connections may well be joining in the fun if they so choose, since some are financing parts of this operation."

This plan was sounding more and more like a spy movie to Jennie, but the idea of expanding the harem with some of her friends did appeal to her. She could tell by the throbbing of his cock that he was getting close, and by the tension building in her own body that she was as well.

"I'm gonna cum, slut," he said calmly, a subtle groan giving away how much pleasure he felt. "Are you ready to take my load?"

She didn't reply, too lost in providing herself and him with orgasm fuel to pay attention. A slap landed on her face, and she came back to.

"I said, are you ready?"

She nodded enthusiastically, letting out a choked, muffled, and subservient "Yes, master!", pussy throbbing with need to cum. She increased her efforts, slamming her face into his cock to facefuck herself as hard as possible, until he finally gave out. He pushed his entire length into her mouth and throat and send seemingly endless pumps of thick cum into her stomach. She swallowed it all eagerly, pumping her fingers into herself faster, until she finally gave out and squirted, her cry muffled by the softening cock in her mouth. Ripples of pleasure spread through her like electric shocks, and when her mind came back to the floor was soaked, her cum running through the gutters between the clay tiles.

"Fuck..." After making sure she'd milked every drop of his delicious cum she could, she let herself fall back onto the floor, body trembling with the power of her orgasm.

"One down, little slut. You do understand the implications of what I'm saying, no?"

She nodded. "Yes...yes, master."

"Very well. Get up and come here."

She pushed herself up and crawled over to him. He reached down, picked her up as if she weighed nothing, and set her down on his bed.

Laying down on it, he pulled her on top of him and slid his hardening cock into her smoothly.

"Anza, kahaba." (Begin, whore)

"Ndiyo, bwana." She replied cheekily in Swahili, starting to grind her hips on him. (Yes, master)

It only took a few bounces before the found the utterly perfect angle to fuck herself, and she stayed on it, slowly increasing her pleasure.

"Ohh yes, that's so good," she keened, bouncing harder. "Mmm, fuck!"

He let this continue for a few moments before taking hold of her hips, drawing his own back, and slamming up into her as she came down. Every last centimeter of his thick shaft was driven into her, and the unexpected deep penetration made her lose her balance. She fell forward and caught herself just before her head broke his nose. Cocking an eyebrow, he held her still and started fucking her himself.

Jennie couldn't even form words, only meaningless moans spilled out of her mouth, and her juices kept spilling out of her pussy. Barely keeping her screams contained, she lowered her head and kissed him hungrily, eyes rolling back into her head. Her mind was quickly turning to mush, consumed with lust and pleasure.

"Fuck me harder, master," she whispered into his ear, "Oh god yes, fuck me harder!"

He gave a groan, which was almost a growl, and kicked up his force.

"So good," she moaned, arching her back and biting her lip to keep herself from yelling. "So deep!"

"Mmm, you're tight. You're nothing but a filthy little fuckslave, you know that, Jennie?"

"Yes, master, I'm just a stupid little whore for you!" She shuddered, the heat was building quickly in her core.

"Good girl. Are you gonna cum for me?"

"Yes," she gasped, "Yes, master, I'm gonna cum on your thick cock!"

His hand closed on her neck. "Then do it, slut. Cum for me."

"Nngaah, f-fuck! I'm gonna - fucking - cum!"

The added stimulation of his finger pressing against her clit was enough to send her over the edge. She tensed, her back arched, and her eyes squeezed shut as she squirted powerfully. She held back the scream, only a few short, pleasured gasps making it out.

"Two so far. Twenty lashes." He noted.

"You know what," she panted into his ear, pushing herself up a little. "Screw the game. Just fuck me hard and whip me as much as you want."

His eyes glinted and an evil smile tugged at his lips.. "As you wish, kahaba."

He flipped her over, pushed her legs apart, and dived back in, plunging so far into her she thought it would split her in half. He kept her arms pinned above her head, and the arousing sight of the sculpted, veiny muscle beneath his skin flexing and contracting made her body produce a fresh coat of slick to lubricate his movements.

"Mmph, oh god yes~" She purred, bucking up into him and already chasing her next orgasm. "Please, master, make me squirt on your big dick...make me cum everywhere..."

Whether he said so or not, she could see and feel the effect of her dirty talk on him. His cock throbbed inside her, and his thrusts increased in frequency. She wasn't the only one chasing an orgasm.

After a minute, he pulled out and turned her over onto her front. He pulled her ass into the air and rammed back into her pussy, making sure her head was kept down by keeping one hand's pressure on it. The new position brought her a lot more pleasure, and much as she tried, she couldn't keep her voice contained.

"Yes, yes, yes, that's it! You're so fucking big inside my little pussy, pound me harder!"

"Fuck - so - tight!" He groaned, landing a smack on her jiggling ass.

"Cum inside me, master," she begged amidst the moans, "Please, give me your load, master! I want to feel yout hot cum deep in my pussy!"

Another spank landed on her other ass cheek, and it was only a few moments before the control was lost. His hips collided with her ass one last time and stayed there, pushing his shaft all the way into her, and he exploded. Shot after shot of thick cum was spurted into the deepest part of her womb it could reach. The feeling of his cum reaching so far into her pushed her off that cliff and she showered his thighs with her cum, screaming her lungs out in utter bliss. He allowed himself to fall down next to her, breathing quickly and shallowly, and she rolled onto her back.

After a few seconds of heavy panting, she spoke up.

"Tha...thank you, master.

He planted kisses along her neck and collarbone that made her squirm.

"You're welcome, my little slut."

Sitting up, he gave her ass one more slap before getting off the bed.

"Well, I believe the locals will be waking up soon, and you know how men are in the morning. It might be a long day for you, kahaba mdogo."

"I don't mind...master," she panted, pushing herself up and licking her lips. "I want all the cocks~"

He laughed and shook his head. "You're such a slut, Jennie. Well, I hope you enjoy yourself, and make sure you leave a little energy for the flight. We're heading back to Nairobi tonight."

...

Though she'd been whipped, abused, and fucked senseless yesterday, nothing could sate Jennie's endless desire for cock, slake her limitless thirst for cum.

She made her way out of the hut and was greeted by the sight of the the two guards outside holding a chain leash, which was attached to a thick leather collar with embroidered letters that spelled out "Mtumwa". (Slave)

"On your knees, kahaba."

"Yes, master." She knelt obediently, allowing the collar to be strapped around her neck, fully embracing the title. She lowered herself onto all fours, wiggling her ass playfully (which earned her a slap to it).

"Walk."

She started crawling in front of them, reveling as always in the lecherous gazes roving over her naked form, the jeers and laughs that came from the quickly assembling audience. She just couldn't get enough of the extensive shame she felt, the deep-rooted desire to be humiliated unable to be put to rest. She craved it, she needed it.

She heard a rustle from behind her and didn't bother turning her head; she had a pretty good idea of what that was.

A multitude of leather strips made impact with her ass; she'd seen it coming miles away, but she still gasped, the pain never failing to bring her a depraved pleasure.

"Mmh~" She gave a high pitched whimper, tensing slightly as the flogger came up into her pussy. She kept crawling, thoroughly enjoying her punishment. Sweat formed at her hairline under the hot sun, but she didn't mind a bit; she was too lost in her own masochistic pleasure to care.

Jennie made a full circle of the square and moved further towards the outskirts of the town, about a dozen pedestrians having joined the two guards. Her ass was definitely turning redder and heat was building in her lower abdomen, but she kept resolutely crawling, the sand on the ground thankfully offering some comfort to the action.

They walked her all the way through the village and its many bypaths, and by the time they returned to the square her cheeks were flushed red, her pussy was soaked and throbbing, and the crowd of a dozen had assimilated a few dozen more members. They brought her to a halt in front of Jaali's hut just in time for Lisa to be helped out the door, barely even concious. She was put on a collar and leash as well, and placed side by side with Jennie.

"You okay?" Jennie asked.

"Mm-hmm," Lisa replied, nodding her head dazedly.

"How many times?"

"I...don't know." She slurred, looking at a guard for help.

"Eight." He supplied.

Jennie chuckled. "Oh, you're getting it today, Lisa. You won't be able to sit for a week."

"I know," she said sheepishly, slowly returning from her catatonia. "I couldn't help it..."

"Hey, I don't blame you." Jennie shrugged. "Personally, I'd have opted for a couple more."

"Slut."

"Shut up!" Jennie laughed. "Says the one who just earned herself eighty lashes because she's such a whore!"

"Well, that wasn't my fault or my choice! You would have gone for more. Slut."

Jennie scoffed and shook her head as they started crawling again. But unexpectedly, her vision blacked out as one of the villagers tied a blindfold over her eyes. A thick piece of cloth was tied into her mouth, preventing speech.

As the shouts and jeers of more civilians reached their ears, as she heard the rustling of clothes and the cloth being removed from her mouth, as she felt the tip of a cock press against her lips, Jennie realized that Jaali had been right. It was going to be a long day.

But by God, it was sure gonna be fun.

...

A few hours later, when the crowd had mostly dispersed, Jennie and Lisa sat at the base of the baobab tree, hands tied far above them and feet spread out idly. Countless loads of cum had been pumped into Jennie's mouth, ass, and pussy, so much so that it was leaking out of her two lower holes. She'd already had her day's fill of cock, punishment, and humiliation, but was she even remotely finished for the day? Hell no.

"Lisa?" She said.

"Yeah?"

"Do you think Sana and Jiwon and all them would be down as well? Hypothetically?"

"I know it's not hypothetical, but yeah, I think they would. Jiwon's such a slut anyway, she'd be down for sure."

Jennie chuckled. "Yeah, that's true."

"We're gonna try and get them to join the harem, aren't we?"

"Sharp, aren't you, Lisa? Yes, we are."

"How do you think Somi'll react to seeing one of them again?"

"Not well." Jennie stated blandly. "Not at all. Even worse when she figures out why they're there. She's such a prude."

"All this is...kind of exciting to me. You know?"

"Yeah, me too. What I'm really excited for is seeing Somi's proud, goody-two-shoes ass get absolutely shattered by their cocks. I want to see her break, I want to see that look in her eyes when she finally succumbs to the pleasure."

"Damn, who hurt you?"

"No one." Jennie's tone was filled with distaste. "But she's too prudent. I want to witness her break."

"That does sound hot, to see someone else experience the same feeling..." Lisa trailed off. "How long d'you think we'll be here?"

"Until someone decides to come and whip us. Remember the 'game'?"

"Oh yeah." She shifted her sitting position, a hint of pink tinging her cheeks. "Right."

It was only a few minutes more before Jaali exited his hut and stretched, pulling on the usual wealthy attire. Catching sight of the two of them, he headed in their direction and stopped in front of them.

"The crowd really does make my use and abuse of you look like a cakewalk," he commented, nodding approvingly. "I'm impressed."

"Yeah, well, there's more of them." said Jennie nonchalantly. "They're stronger 'cause they have more people."

"I think you'll find that I have just as much capability of harm as they do."

"Yeah?" Jennie challenged, knowing and wanting the consequences of it. "Prove it."

"It would almost sound, little slut," He said, voice taking on a dangerous timbre, "as if you're questioning my aptness in punishing you."

"And if I am?" She continued cheekily. "What are you gonna do about it?"

"You know very well what I'm going to do about it, Jennie." His voiced remained in a state of deadly calm, though she could tell she was getting a rise out of him. "Care to keep testing me?"

"I bet you don't have the balls to do anything about it." She retorted, and Lisa gasped. "Punish me, pussy."

She'd crossed a line, and she knew it. His eyes narrowed, and in a flash he'd whipped out his knife. She flinched as the knife came down toward her hands, but it narrowly avoided her skin while cutting the rope.

"Fine," he growled into her ear, quickly pulling her upright and tying her hands to the tree branch. "You said earlier that I could whip you as much as I wanted? You're going to regret saying that."

She looked over her shoulder as the box was brought out along with a couple of guards. Jaali turned it over and dumped all of them out, then assorted them neatly across the nearby table. There were several different canes, the obligatory floggers, canes the barbed cat-o-nine tails, bullwhips, the knouts, a long, thin, lungewhip, and a morbidly sinister leather one whose lash Jennie shuddered to think about. It consisted of a thick handle, and five long, thin leather cords. Attached to the cords were nails, spines, thin shards of glass, and barbs, and she quickly directed her attention back to the much more pleasant floggers.

"I see this foreboding contraption has caught your attention, Jennie," his voice called over, as he held up the whip. "We call it 'the shredder', and it gets its name for a good reason. We've only ever used it once, for a serial rapist and murderer, and he died before his punishment was done. Tears right through the skin on the first lash. It's been in this box since I was a boy. I don't know who made it, but they had a serious problem."

The shredder? Oh, surely not. And here she thought she'd found the scariest whip there was with the cat-o-nines, which only had barbs of hardened leather. Those seemed to be a cakewalk compared to the glass and spikes on the shredder.

Her fears were relieved as he laid it back on the table and picked up the lungewhip, a whip with a long, thin handle and an even longer and even thinner tail. That one would sting, for sure.

Going with that option, he approached her once more and raised his arm with the whip in hand, waited momentarily, and brought it down with a loud crack onto Jennie's waiting ass.

The sharp, punishing sting drove a cry out of her mouth, and it must've left a welt. She heard voices behind her, then approaching footsteps, and her vision went dark once again as the blindfold was put back over her eyes, thus keeping her from knowing when the next lash was coming.

There had to be two of them; the lashes were coming as loud and as fast as gunfire from an assault rifle. Each of her ass cheeks was under constant assault, and she couldn't even support her own yells because she ran out of breath too quickly.

It only took about thirty seconds for the pain to give way to something else, something more libidinous. In the small time it'd taken for a small crowd to assemble, the sting of the lash had made the heat pool in her lower abdomen. The longer her punishment went on, the higher her arousal spiked, until she was panting and moaning with each lash.

"Oh yes, punish me, master!" She arched her back. "Whip my slutty ass until it bleeds!"

She didn't mean all of that, but he seemed to get the general idea. The two stepped closer, letting the lashes come harder, and her legs started trembling. When the next two lashes stung the inside of her thighs, only a few millimeters from her aching, throbbing cunt. Her legs gave out and she fell to her knees, a long cry tearing itself out of her lungs. Her cum splattered the clay bricks below her and she sagged in the ropes binding her wrists.

Looking up through her mind-numbing haze of pleasure and watering eyes, she saw Lisa's cheeks reddened again, her front teeth nipping her bottom lip in arousal.

"Mmm, yes..." She moaned, the ropes only things keeping her from collapsing face-first.

"I think you've learned your lesson enough, kahaba." Came Jaali's voice. "Actually, I don't, and if I had time I would gladly whip you until you bleed. But time is of the essence."

It was indeed. She looked up at the sky to see the sunset starting to douse the sky in orange and yellow, and realized that the time of their flight was drawing near.

"We leave for Nairobi in about three quarters of an hour, so you'll need to get ready. I took the liberty of collecting your luggage from the Radisson Blu myself, so you can get dressed from the suitcase."

The sound of a knife unsheathing reached her and she turned around just to see said thrown knife twirl through the air, slice through the ropes, and stick cleanly in the tree trunk.

"Hm," he commented, nodding approvingly. "Quite the shot."

Jennie slumped onto the ground, chest heaving and face buried in the earthy smell of the soil at the base of the tree. The sky was rapidly darkening, the sunset giving way to dark orange and red tints.

She picked herself up, plucked the knife off the tree, and cut the bond between her hands, and stumbled towards the hut to get dressed.

And thus, she found herself on a plane that night, sandwiched between Jaali and Chiumbo.

...

"Attention, passengers, we are approaching a bite of turbulence. Please fasten your seatbelts and remain seated until the all clear."

Jennie had been almost asleep when the pilot's voice rang out through the speakers, telling them to fasten their seatbelts. She buckled the lap belt, inwardly speculating that were they to get into a crash, the thin strip of fabric wouldn't be a lot of help.

About a minute later the plane started to shake a little, the luggage rattling noisily in the compartments.

"I take it this isn't your first time flying, Jennie?" Jaali said calmly to her right.

"Not by a long shot." She replied, eyeing Chiumbo's hand clenched tightly around the armrest. "His?"

"Yes. He's never flown. But he'll be okay." Jaali leaned forward to see him. "Hey, tulia, hatutaanguka." (Hey, calm down, we're not gonna crash.)

Jennie chuckled and settled deeper into her seat.

"How long is left?" She asked. "Two hours?"

"Something like that." Reading her expression, he continued. "No, we can't. The bathroom is too small and too loud."

"Damn it." She turned back to the screen in front of her, faking a pout. "You're too good at reading faces."

"Yeah?" He laughed. "It's a refined skill. However..."

The end of his sentence was unnecessary as one of his hands wandered down her torso, under the paper-thin airplane blanket, and stopped right on her clothed pussy, a small gasp her response.

"Not here! We can't..."

"Do you hear that, Chiumbo?" He asked nonchalantly, fingers idly stroking the crotch of her shorts. "Sounds like our little slave has a protest to log.

"Care to repeat it, Jennie?" His voice lowered.

Torn between her reason and her lust, she stayed silent for a moment, until lust tipped the scale and she gave in.

"N-no, sir."

"That's what I thought." His thumb lifted the waistband of the shorts and panties, allowing his other fingers in. "Besides, the entire cabin is falling back asleep."

She couldn't argue with this, since snores were beginning to arise again from all over the cabin. Those and the rumbling of the turbulence were enough to cover the quiet moans she involuntarily released at his touch.

"If you thought I was going to sit for thirteen hours with your sexy little body pressed against me without doing anything, you were sorely mistaken, kahaba."

"Mmm, what the fuck does it matter what I thought?" She asked. "Just do what you want to me..."

Obviously unable to fuck her right there in front of an entire cabin and the couple of stewardesses who walked by occasionally, he settled for subtly rubbing her clit, the sounds drowned out by the engines, turbulence, and noises around them.

"I've never been much of a criminal, Jennie," he commented, "but I must say that sexual acts on a plane is a crime I'm perfectly willing to indulge in."

"Ah~" She moaned, struggling to keep herself controlled. He could get away with fingering her, but if she bucked her hips or made it obvious what was going on, the stewardesses would notice.

The heat was building in her abdomen, like a white-hot coil being compressed. Without explanation, or need of any, he handed her a wad of cloth, which she stuffed into her own mouth, muffling her voice.

When his thumb replaced the fingers and the fingers plunged into her tight tunnel, the coil released, shooting pleasure like a rocket all the way through her body. She shuddered and bit down on the cloth hard to keep from crying out, and the shorts were suddenly wet with her cum.

"F-fuck..." She mumbled through it, trembling and trying not to reveal the nature of what he'd been doing. If they were caught...well, it would but a damper on the evening.

She took the cloth out of her mouth, handed it back to him, and settled back in her seat, face flushed and chest heaving.

"Thank you...master..."

They whiled away the next two hours intermittently talking and attempting to sleep. She'd just been dozing off again when the pilot announced that they would be landing in Seoul in approximately ten minutes, and the local time would be about 3:30 pm.

"I must admit I've never been to Korea," Jaali said, adjusting his necktie. "How bad is going through security and customs?"

"Not bad." Jennie replied. "Unless you brought any spears or tribal paraphernalia, we should be good."

"Yeah, well about that," he joked, "I did pack some AKs and gerenuk horns, now that you mention it."

She laughed. "Very funny. Customs shouldn't be an issue as long s you have no goods to declare. Hey, Lisa!"

She called over the shoulder of her seat to Lisa's sleeping form behind her, which was quickly nudged awake by one of the suited guards sitting to both her sides.

"W-wha...?"

"We're landing, dumbass." Jennie scoffed. "How are you that tired? You've been sleeping for twelve hours."

"I dunno," Lisa yawned. "Guess I didn't get much sleep when I was being railed. Odd as it may sound."

The plane landed smoothly on the runway and in no time they'd gathered their luggage and were disembarking the plane. It was rather pleasant being back in Korea's mild temperatures rather than the hot, dry sun in Kenya.

"It's high time we brought Somi back," Jaali commented as they put their bags through security, "Quite a stunner, she was. A pity she foolishly decided to stay away, it would have made it much easier had she obeyed."

"Mm-hmm." Jennie agreed, picking up her bag from the tray. "I know one thing for sure; I'll enjoy watching her break."

"Watching?" He queried, as they started walking towards the customs lines. "Oh, no, no. I have a much more interactive part for you to play in that particular case."

"Oh yeah?" The group walked through the 'Nothing to declare' line and into the main section of the airport. "What would you have in mind?"

"You may be below me and the guards, but you have full authority over Somi when we get to her. The rest needs no explanation."

Mental images of herself riding Somi's face, spanking her, humiliating her, and dominating her flashed through Jennie's mind, and despite her submissive nature she found herself quite excited by the idea.

"No explanation at all..." Jennie trailed off as they exited the airport. "I could get creative with this one."

"By all means." He smiled. "It's gonna be one hell of a night, kahaba."

...

The hotel they'd be staying at, a luxury establishment called Conrad Seoul, didn't allow for online bookings meant for a party of over four. So the booking had to be made in person, which was amusing. The desk clerk was equal parts surprised and besotted by Jennie and Lisa's presence, especially considering they were accompanied by eight hulking Kenyans. But after a brief conversation their reservation was made, the party spanning across three rooms.

Jennie was back in a place where people knew who she was, and the fact that she was who she was demanded respect. So all it took to convince anyone of anything was a little flutter of the eyelashes and a subtle sway of her hips. In such ways she had diverted any suspicion or questions as to the crowd of black men she was keeping in tow.

"Holy shit..." Jaali was visibly shocked at the grandeur of the hotel as they walked through it. "You Koreans really build to impress."

"We have to show off, don't we?" Jennie led the group up the LED-lit staircase she'd climbed dozens of times. "It is pretty cool, I have to admit. They wasted no expense making this place as nice as possible."

Lowering his voice, he spoke to from behind and below her. "You're lucky we're in public, otherwise I'd be doing something with that sexy little ass right in front of me."

"You can't say things like that, not here!" She scolded him quietly, though she inwardly glowed at the praise. "Save it for the room."

Their three rooms were all in a row, and three guards were sent into the one on the corner.

"Lisa, Ruhiu, Aboyo, Kariuki, I want you four in that one." He pointed to the one farthest from the corner. "Have fun." He added mockingly, making Lisa's cheeks go red. The four disappeared into the room.

He opened the middle door and led her, Chiumbo, and another guard named Yusufu in.

"Damn." Jaali sat down on the plush white couch and stared out the window at the magnificent view of the Han River. "That's a hell of a view."

"Isn't it?" Jennie sat next to him. "Anyway, what's the play for tonight?"

"Well, you did say you have friends here, correct?"

"Obviously."

"And I have spots for them in my harem. I rather think you can figure out the rest for yourself."

He got up and paced over to the window. "After that, I believe Somi is owed a visit...also self-explanatory. I assume you know where she resides?"

"I do. And I'd be more than happy to give her my regards...personally."

Jaali turned around, grinning. "That's the spirit, little slut."

"It's perfect! She'll never see it coming." Jennie said, rubbing her hands together gleefully. "I've been wanting to put that little prude in her place for so long...make her call me 'mistress', worship me, eat me out...hell yes."

"I hadn't pegged you as the dominant type, Jennie," he mused, "considering how you were serving us yesterday - and today, for that matter - but maybe I was wrong."

"Usually I'm not." She replied. "There's nothing I love more than a strong, dominant guy, but with Somi? I'll change my ways."

"Very good. Chiumbo, Yusufu, ready yourselves. We'll be leaving very soon."

Jennie arranged a little get-together at a local bar with five of her friends: Jiwon, Sana, Momo, Minnie, and Ryujin. The rendezvous was set to 5 pm at Bound Bar, a favorite spot for the group. They only had about an hour to wait, which meant that soon enough, boredom overtook her. Quicker than that, lust overtook the boredom, and she moved a little closer to Chiumbo, something that didn't escape his notice. He ignored the movement and its several counterparts for a few minutes, allowing Jennie's thoughts to run wild and her lust to fester. Without looking away from the book he was reading, he reached over and started inching his hand up her thigh, making her shiver as the hand paused just above her pussy. She bucked her hips a little, trying to get him to do something, but he remained impassive, donning a small smirk.

Her eyes narrowed, and she stripped off her top, drawing his eyes away from the pages momentarily. He very quickly turned his attention back to it, which annoyed her further. She knew what he was doing; he was trying to irritate her to the point where she begged him. And if she had to beg, she would fucking beg.

"Come on, you big bastard, fuck me!"

No sooner had the words left her mouth than his hand closed around her neck in a vice grip, making her bite her lip.

"What did you just say to me, whore?"

Recklessly, she kept it up, getting more aroused by the rise she was getting out of him. "I said fuck me, you fucking sexy son of a bitch!"

Growling, he pulled her out of her seat and into his own, her back pressed against his chest.

"I'd be careful, Jennie." Jaali's voice floated over. "Chiumbo doesn't take kindly to being insulted, not at all."

"Good." She arched her back, pressing her ass into his cock. "If he'll fuck me, it's worth it~"

He shrugged. "If you want to be able to walk tonight, I'd trod lightly. But if you want to deal with the consequences, fine by me."

She could feel the bulge in Chiumbo's dress pants starting to harden, and she knew she had him won over. He unbuckled the belt with one hand, the other still on her neck, and freed himself of it.

"I have noticed," Jaali continued while Chiumbo rid himself of his pants, blazer, and tie, "you've been growing a little cheeky today."

"Have I?" His hands fastened themselves to her shorts and pulled them off her legs. "Guess I should be punished then, hm?"

"A task I trust Chiumbo to handle efficiently. But he has more manpower behind him if he wants us."

She had half a mind to provoke the extra manpower into drilling her, but decided against it. At present, Chiumbo's tie slipped over her head and tightened around her neck, acting as a makeshift collar and leash.

"Ooh~" She moaned at the feeling of his steel-hard shaft pressing against her pussy, the warmth from it making her even wetter. "Oh god...I need this thick cock in me, master..."

A moment later, he obliged, aligned his head with her entrance and plunged into her, stretching her out and filling her to the brim.

"Oh, fuck, that's so big!" Her voice jumped up an octave and she shuddered in pleasure. It hadn't even been a full day since he last fucked her, but she'd already forgotten the total, mind-numbing bliss that only he could provide. He turned her around on his dick so she was facing him and commenced the fast, powerful thrusts that just made her scream; there was something about him, his cock, and the way he pounded her so good that set him apart from the others.

The tie tightened further and he pulled it back, cutting off her air supply just enough to spike up her lust. She was rapidly flying towards an orgasm, sooner than she'd thought was possible.

"Oh my god," she gasped, "harder, give me more!"

She knew that he knew she was close. His strokes got harder, his grip on her hips tightened, and her moans got louder as she approached climax.

"More," she gasped in his ear, yelping as he smacked her ass. "Fuck me harder, you big idiot! I'm gonna cum!"

He pulled her body flush with his own and growled deeply into her ear.

"You'll have to beg for it, kahaba."

The last three syllables were spoken with so much intensity and viciousness that she shuddered, both turned on and slightly scared by his tone.

"Please," she murmured, arching her back and pressing her ass into his crotch, eyes rolling back into her head, "fuck me harder, master, please, I need to cum, I wanna drench your thick cock in my cum!"

His fist closed around her hair and pulled her head down to his mouth level. "More."

"Please!" She cried in both desperation and a lot of arousal, trying desperately to renew the vigor of his previous pace, "make me squirt everywhere! Fuck my brains out, fuck me until I scream, master!"

"That's a good little slut."

The subsequent increase in force was almost too much to handle for her; an orgasm was quickly building and she knew she wasn't going to be able to hold on at all. That combined with his constant and relentless spanks, added fingering of her clit, and constant degradation of her, Jennie's pleasure shot through the roof and she lost control of it.

"Cumming, yes, I'm cumming, FUCK!" Words made almost impossible by what she was feeling, all thought was sucked away in a whirlpool of euphoric ecstasy as the girthy length spearing her pussy triggered an immense orgasm that wracked her entire body with mind-obliterating, toe-curling, back-arching bliss. A jet of her cum sprayed his thighs and the seat and she rode out the entire thing, met with his continuing thrusts. A moment later, he groaned loudly and she felt a rush of heat fill her up, which pleasured her just shy of enough to cum again. The sheer magnitude of his load was incredible, filling her up with his warmth.

"F-fuck..." She slumped onto him, panting, and felt his cum start to leak out of her. "So...full...so much cum...love it..."

When she finally gained the strength to get off him, she pulled the tie off her neck and leaned heavily into the chair, chest still heaving and hairline still gleaming with sweat.

"You're just like a bitch in heat, aren't you?" Jaali chuckled after a minute. "Just can't get enough dick."

"Never." She replied, smiling. "No one can sate my appetite."

"Well, soon enough Somi and your friends will be like that too." His wicked smile widened. "Lisa's already falling to the desire. What little resistance to her instinct she has left is being whittled away."

He'd barely finished the sentence when Lisa's orgasmic cries sounded from across the wall, long and loud.

"Well, at least her comedic timing is fucking legendary." Jennie muttered, rolling her eyes.

He laughed. "Indeed. Well, if you'll kindly clean your slutty self up, I believe it's time for us to leave."

...

The group pulled up in three separate Ubers to the bar, where five girls were waiting outside: the rest of the friend group.

"Jennie!"

Sana's happy shout was echoed by all four of the others, who all ran and hugged Jennie as she exited the van. Lisa was met with a similar greeting and then the five others stopped momentarily to survey the other eight members of the party.

"Damn, Jennie, you said you had friends with you, but you didn't say they were so hot..." Jiwon commented, eyes hungrily scanning the body of the nearest guard.

She laughed. "Shut up, Jiwon, we haven't even made it inside yet."

The guard in question, Aboyo, simply chuckled. "Let her speak her mind, Jennie."

She shot him a sideways glance, eyebrows raised, before leading all fifteen of them into the bar.

"Quite the big party tonight, isn't it, Miss Jennie?" The bartender, Jungho, commented. "Some kind of event?"

"Nope." She took a seat along with the others, almost occupying every bar stool. "Just a big friend group reunion."

"What'll it be then, misses? Sirs?" He tossed his cleaning rag up in the air and caught it.

They all ordered their drinks, which ranged from whiskey to vodka to gin to soju, and then the talking began. Jiwon immediately struck up a conversation with Aboyo and Ruhiu, quickly joined by Sana. Momo picked out two of the guards, Yusufu and Kariuki. Ryujin sat down with Gakere and Onkwani, whose appropriately given name (meaning 'one who talks a lot') lived up to his ability for conversation. Chiumbo, Jaali, Jennie, Lisa, and Minnie settled down in the center of the group.

"So where is it you guys come from, again?" Minnie asked, accepting her soju from Jungho.

"Kenya." Chiumbo, Jaali, and Lisa all said at once.

"More specifically, the main village of the Kikuyu tribe." Jaali elaborated. "The largest and most politically influential tribe in Kenya."

"Interesting. Jennie, how did you even come across them?"

"A tour." Jennie hadn't told the others about the tribe until now. "You remember that trip to Kenya I took a year or so back? The tour took us through that village."

"Hm." She sipped her drink and muttered to Jennie in Korean. "Jiwon wasn't lying, they're fucking hot."

"You really are a slut, Min." Jennie shook her head.

"Mm, this coming from someone who's barely walking straight." She retorted, much to Jaali, Lisa and Chiumbo's mirth. "Don't think we're idiots, Jennie."

Jennie blushed furiously and hit Jaali on the arm, who was stifling his snickers at Minnie's comment. "Shut up, all of you."

Minnie joined in the laughter. "Hey, none of us are judging. It's not like we're any prudish angels ourselves. I mean, Jungho can tell you all about that. Isn't that right, Jungho?"

The bartender, who'd been minding his own business washing out shotglasses, looked up. "What?"

She smirked, throwing him a wink. "You can tell Jennie that I'm far from innocent."

He smirked back. "You and Ryujin."

"Huh?" Ryujin looked over from her conversation with Onkwani. "What about me?"

"He's saying you're a slut, Ryu." Minnie called. "Not that it isn't true."

"Yeah, says the one who was having a 'chat' with him in the store room not a week ago." She riposted. "Let's not even go down this road."

"Yeah, whatever." Minnie shrunk back into her seat, now the one blushing amidst the group's giggles. "Point is, we don't judge anyone for fucking who they want."

"Hold on a second, aren't you usually a dom, Min?" Jiwon asked.

"Yeah, for all these little Korean pussy boys. I need a real man one of these days."

Jennie downed her shot, rapped the counter, and leaned closer to Minnie, ignoring the jab to her countrymen (Sorry, fellas.). "Well, let me tell you something. You'll certainly not be playing dom with these guys. You've never had dicks like these. Never."

"Oh yeah?" challenged Minnie. "We'll see about that."

"Oh, yes we will." She elbowed Lisa, who was talking to Chiumbo and Onkwani. "Lisa knows, too."

"Oh, it's true, Min." She said without hesitation, then in Korean under her breath. "You have no idea what pleasure is until you've fucked one of these guys. Been...ruined by one of them."

"Or five, for that matter." Jennie added, to the amusement of the others. "Nothing wrong with a good gangbang once in a while."

"Damn right." Minnie's eyes took on a more titillated look. "I guess I'll have to go for a little ride tonight, then."

"Cheers to that." Jennie raised her shotglass, and the others followed suit.

...

"So are we all just splitting up?"

The general question was, once the idea of fucking the guards had settled with everyone.

"I suppose." Jennie replied, looking at Jaali, who nodded, for confirmation. "But we all have to meet up in the morning."

"Fuck, I'm gonna need a shit ton of coffee." Jiwon shook her head.

"Same here." Agreed Minnie and Ryujin.

"The other guards and I have some unfinished business to attend to afterwards." Jaali broke in. "So I trust it's okay with everyone if they leave after pounding the brains out of you?"

"Works with me." Jiwon said, to general assent. "And don't worry about hiding what that 'business' is, Jennie told us all about it."

"Did she now?" His eyes flicked over to her, their brows raising, then he continued in a mock bright tone. "I'm sure we've talked about this, positively so. I can't imagine how many times I've told her not to spread that around, including on the plane not four hours ago."

"Sorry," Jennie muttered, going pink in the face. "They kept hounding me."

"Mm, I'm sure they did." He said satirically. "Regardless, I think that warrants a punishment later, hm?"

She blushed and nodded, very much aware of how quiet it had gotten among the group.

"Come again?" He sipped his cocktail casually.

"Yes, sir." She murmured quietly, fidgeting with her own glass. She could see the others silently giggling in her periphery, particularly Jiwon gesturing very dramatically and mouthing very obscene and very ridiculing things at her.

"Shut up, Jiwon." She fixed her with an evil side eye. "I'm gonna kill you, I swear to God."

"Careful, Jennie, I'm getting chills." said Jaali sarcastically, to the raucous laughter of everyone else.

"Anyway," Jennie said loudly over the giggles, "we'll each pick a guard or two to spend the night with, and meet back up in the morning."

"I call these two." Jiwon said immediately, pointing to Aboyo and Ruhiu.

Sana and Momo staked their claims on Yusufu, then Gakere was taken by Minnie and Ryujin.

"Jungho!" Minnie called.

"Yes?" He looked up.

"Wanna join us~?"

There was no hesitation whatsoever on his part. He nodded and called back. "I get off in 20 minutes."

Grinning, Minnie tossed a slip of paper containing her address to him and then led the party of nine out the doors, leaving Lisa, Jennie, Jaali, Kariuki, Onkwani, and Chiumbo to each other and Jungho to quickly clean up and end his shift.

"S'pose that makes six of us." Jennie noted, turning to Chiumbo and sliding a hand across the rock-hard muscle beneath the lapels of his blazer. "Wanna go home and have some fun~?"

"You know that I'll never say no to that." _____________________________________________________________

A/N: This is where I'm introducing the idea of perspective changes. For one-on-ones with the guards and idols, or just in general, I can't really have it be all Jennie's perspective. So from here on out I'll be hopping around. Just wanted to let you guys know. ______________________________________________________________

JIWON ______________________________________________________________

Fuck, why are Jennie's friends so goddamn sexy?

Jiwon could think of nothing but what awaited her at her apartment during the car ride. She was so wet she thought she would mess up her seat, and the speed she was driving at was definitely less than legal. She was rather lucky an officer wasn't around to clock her ten-over mph level.

They had barely made it through the door when Aboyo pushed her against it, one hand pinning her hands above her head and the other going to her neck.

"Mmh~" She moaned and bit her lip. "So forceful~"

"You like forceful, kahaba?"

"I don't know what the fuck that means, but yes~" She leaned her head forward and kissed him, allowing his tongue entrance and pressing her body against his.

"God, I want you so fucking bad..." She whispered, as his lips left hers and moved down her jaw to her neck. "I bet you've got a beast in those pants, hm?"

His next words made her, if possible, even hornier.

"Want to find out?"

And suddenly her voice was three times as high-pitched as she moaned her reply amidst the caresses of his adept hands.

"Yes, sir~"

The powerful hand making contact with her face was unexpected, but not unwelcome, either.

"That's master to you, whore."

She gasped at the slap and the insult, but found that it only fueled her arousal.

"Oh, so you're into that, huh?" She murmured. "Let me correct myself then - yes, master."

"Good girl." His grip on her neck tightened. The way he said 'good girl' made her breath hitch and her heart race. "I expect that every time, you understand?"

"Yes, master..." She breathed, chest heaving. "What are you gonna do to me?"

"Nothing less than your wildest, most depraved fantasies, little slut." His breath was hot on her face and neck, and she could smell deep notes of wood and musk in his cologne.

"Oh god, yes..." The thought made her want to just cum on the spot, and she swallowed. "Please..."

Gripping her by the hair, he led her to the couch and none-too-carefully pushed her onto it. She lay on her back, legs spread wide and clothed pussy drenched with slick. The two shed their blazers as they approached, wearing identical lecherously fiendish grins.

Ruhiu crawled across the couch, loosening his belt and holding her right hand above her head against the soft cushions. Aboyo had shed his shirt, tie and belt, leaving his lean torso on full display for her hungry gaze.

"So sexy," she said candidly, eyes raking his abs. "So fucking sexy..."

Ruhiu's hands were busy at work stripping her, while her own hands unbuckled his belt and slid it out of its hoops. She tossed it aside carelessly and watched with ravenous lust as the other layers were removed.

Jiwon's eyes went wide at the size of the two hardening cocks before her, and the flood barriers controlling her slick widened as well.

"Oh my God..." Her mouth hung open and she sat up. "You're so big!"

Aboyo stepped closer.

"And you'll be finding out what 'so big' feels like soon, slut."

She yelped as he pushed her back down, pulling her legs apart and burying his face between them. His tongue, clearly having had some experience probing around slits, quickly located her most sensitive spots and swiped, prodded, and circled them. Ruhiu ducked down and his lips latched onto one of her nipples, his tongue swirling and flicking the sensitive peak.

"Oh fuck, that feels so good!" She pulled on his head, moaning and bucking her hips against the wet muscle exploring her pussy. "God, why are you so good at this?"

The blissful concerto of sensation she was experiencing was rapidly heightening her proximity to an orgasm, and she'd barely had her clothes off for two minutes.

"Oh yes," she purred, feeling the tongue flick her clit, making her shudder. "Oh yes, just like that...I'm gonna cum..."

He worked his tongue faster, reducing her to a squirming, moaning, desperate mess with calm and effortless expertise. Ruhiu slid two of his fingers into her mouth after gathering some of her slick on them, letting her taste her own juices and silencing the ever-increasing volume of her voice.

"Mmph," she cried muffledly into the two fingers, sucking the juices off them obediently. She wasn't able to alert Aboyo to the fact that she was tipping over the edge of orgasm, but her quivers and trembling were probably a pretty good indicator.

"Cum for me, slut," he urged her, fingers moving up to replace his tongue and plunging into her. Giving in wasn't a choice; she wasn't able to control the orgasm convening inside her.

And suddenly, it all became too much for her to handle.

"YES!"

The orgasm slammed into her like a truck going twenty over and she squirted hard, writhing and shaking as though being electrocuted. He didn't stop, finger-blasting her and muttering dirty, lascivious little nasties into her ear throughout the orgasm's course.

"Fuck...I didn't know I would ever cum so hard from just fingers...and tongue..."

"Then you're in for a night of surprises, little slut." Ruhiu hinted darkly. "Now come here."

She didn't need to be told twice. She obediently crawled over to his now fully naked form and straddled it, feeling his broiling-hot, rock-hard cock pressing against her tight little pussy.

She gasped at both the sight and sensation. "You should put an 'oversize load' sticker on this thing, what the fuck..."

He laughed. "Well, be that as it may, get ready to take an oversize load from it, slut."

"Mm, you just love calling me dirty names, don't you?" She bent her upper half down, face an inch from his. "I'm gonna love getting my insides rearranged by your massive cock."

"Oh, is that so?" She felt his hand grip her throat again. "Then allow me to do some rearranging."

He pushed into her with one swift, brutal thrust, stretching her out more than she'd ever experienced before.

"Oh my God!" She cried out, tensing and squeezing him all the harder in reaction. "You're so b-big! Fuck!"

"Well, big as I might be, you're fucking tight, holy hell..." He groaned lightly. "Might have to loosen that little pussy up."

"Yes, please, master~"

The next second she'd dissolved into blissful, incomprehensible moans as his hips started pumping. She'd never, ever felt something like this, something so big stretching her tight pussy out, someone making her feel so controlled.

Owned, you could say.

"Yes - yes - yes - fuck me - harder - yes - yes - fuck!" Her words, as though being fucked out of her, came out with each stroke. "S-so big!"

"Shut up, you little whore!" His palm connected with her cheek again, but she just blushed and bit her lip.

"Yes, master!" She moaned, bucking her hips in time with his powerful thrusts. "Oh my God, right there, harder!"

She'd briefly forgotten about Aboyo's presence, but was reminded acutely by the sensation of another wet tip pressing into her asshole.

"Wait–" She said frantically, whipping her head around. "Don't do that so fa - fuck!"

"What's the matter, slut?" He asked teasingly, ignoring her gasps as his entire length slid smoothly into her. "Little fast for you?"

Jiwon muttered a quiet "fuck off", which didn't escape the ears of either of them. Simultaneously, a hand slapped her face and another her ass cheek, and Aboyo grabbed her hair and pulled her head back to his mouth.

"Care to run that by me again?"

"N-no, master...I'm sorry..."

"Good girl."

Both cocks started ramming into her, battering her insides and sending powerful jolts of pleasure through her.

"Nghh, yes, so deep!" She gritted her teeth, whimpering and thoroughly enjoying being so brutally fucked. "Harder!"

Their cocks throbbed and pulsed delightfully inside her, making her moan and squirm in Aboyo's grip, and Ruhiu pulled her upper torso down so her face was barely two inches from his.

"Now, I'm going to make one thing very clear to you." He said. His voice was low and growly, which made her even wetter. "From now on you belong to us. You're going to be our obedient slave. We own you."

She shivered at both his tone and his words, feeling the orgasm start to sneak up on her.

"Answer if you understand me, whore."

"Yes, master, I belong to you," she replied, giving small blissful whines. "I'll be a submissive slut, master..."

"That's a good girl." His voice had a calm, quiet timbre, but held much weight nonetheless.

"Yes~" She purred, body writhing in time with the thrusts. "I'm a good girl for you~"

Aboyo's hand smacked her ass again, making her yelp. "Say it again."

"I'm a good girl for you!" She cried. "I"m nothing but an obedient little whore!"

Probably a direct result of her self-degrading words, both shafts inside her throbbed all the harder, which added the mounting pleasure fueling her impending climax.

"Filthy, pathetic little slave," Ruhiu breathed into her face, and she moaned in reply. "Made to do nothing but obey and serve. Isn't that right?"

"Yes, master! I exist only to please you!"

"Good girl."

Both of their hands gripped and caressed her hips, the push and pull of their rough thrusts rocking her body. Jiwon felt the heat and the rush in her core, her very soul. She'd never experienced something like this, never. She knew she couldn't come back from this; she was truly enslaved in all ways to this feeling, this experience, the two of them.

"Master...I'm gonna cum..." She muttered, mind starting to fade from conscious thought. "I'm gonna cum on this thick cock...God, it's so good..."

The two only grunted with the effort of pounding her in reply, a few more spanks landing on her ass.

"Gonna cum!" She said louder, back arching. "Yes, yes, yes, fuck me, make me cum!"

They gave it everything they had, the groans, moans, and claps ramping up in volume as they all neared their peaks.

"I'm gonna cum," Aboyo said through tightly gritted teeth. "Huyu kahaba amebana sana!" (This whore is so tight!)

"You ready for my load, little slut?" Ruhiu continued on the wavelength.

"Yes, master! Please give it to me! I want your cum in my pussy!"

"You want it, slave? Take it!" In sync, both of them groaned and slammed into her one last time, burying their cocks deep inside her. A hot deluge of thick cum flooded her pussy and ass at the same time, which set off her long-in-development climax.

Her mind exploded with pleasure; it was like someone had set off fireworks inside her. Head to toe, sensation flashed through her entire body, and the orgasmic scream that left her mouth was unlike anything she'd ever uttered.

"FUCK - CUMMING!"

Her body tensed and her toes curled as the waves of numbing, blissful pleasure swept through her and a jet of cum sprayed out of her. She was left breathless, gasping as she nearly passed out.

"So...so good..." she murmured as consciousness began to slip from her. "Thank you, master..." ______________________________________________________________

SANA ______________________________________________________________

"You know how to drive?" Sana asked Yusufu as the three approached her car and the others went their own directions.

"The basics." He smiled, opting for the passenger-side back seat. "It's probably better if you drive."

"Got it."

Momo riding shotgun, the trio departed the bar towards Sana's apartment, soon to become a threesome.

"So, Yusufu," Sana called to the backseat as they pulled away from the curb, "I gather you don't travel much?"

"Not a lot, no." He replied. "Duties to attend to, you know?"

"I guess." She shrugged. "I've never really done research on tribe life."

"Outings like this are usually reserved for more experienced guards. I've only been on the squad for a year or so. I was new when Somi and Jennie were brought in. But the chief thought it would be good to have someone who dealt with Somi come bring her back."

"Makes sense." Momo nodded. "I can't lie..it'll be fun to see how she breaks..."

"Yes, yes, all that will be fun, when it happens." Yusufu said. "But I think what will be even more fun for me...is watching how you two break." He layed a casually possessive hand on each of their shoulders.

The air inside the car shifted; suddenly, the two girls were blushing, biting their lips. Yusufu smirked, knowing the effect his words had on them.

"Yes, I think it'll be very fun watching the two of you slowly come undone while I turn your minds to mush by making you cum over and over and over...watching you accept and realize your places as my submissive little sluts...Don't you think that'll be fun, girls?"

"Mm, I think so~" Sana giggled, not really letting on how wet his words made her. "Really fun..."

"Oh, we'll see about that, Mr. Hotshot." Momo retorted.

"Do my ears deceive me, or was that a challenge?" Yusufu leaned forward. "You'll soon learn, Momo, that not one who has challenged me in the bedroom has ever lived up to it. You've got some nerve to try."

"More like Mr. Hot stuff..." Sana trailed off, eyes scanning the backseat's occupant.

"Well, you've never met a girl like me." Momo said bluntly. "We'll see when we get to Sana's place."

"Yes, we will." He said in a low voice. "And you'll be put in yours."

The rest of the ride passed with barely hidden lust and anticipation, until they pulled into Sana's driveway. Sana herself was nearly trembling with it as they walked the steps to her front door. The calm confidence he showed...the dominance this man exuded, the way he spoke, the way he sugarcoated nothing and left absolutely nothing to the imagination, was...thrilling.

She unlocked the door and let the three of them in, at which time Momo disappeared into the bathroom.

"I'll be out in a minute, I just have to change." She winked at Sana and mouthed 'have fun'. Sana blushed as the door closed and when she turned around, Yusufu was already there, backing her against the wall.

"So I can see you're the submissive one," he said, pinning her against it without even touching her, "the good girl."

"I-I guess..." She stammered, trying and failing to meet the intense gaze she found herself under. "Momo's just trying to see if your...sexy...th-thing is just a charade..."

"Oh, she'll soon find out it's no charade." He smirked. "As will you."

She bit her lip, feeling her arousal spike up. "Oh, uhm...I d-didn't think it was...a charade..."

He laughed, a deep, rumbling noise that only seemed to turn her on more. "Adorable."

Blushing harder, she had to stop her legs from moving against each other. Her body felt like it was on fire, particularly between her thighs; an all-consuming, mind-controlling desire that filled her up and felt like molten magma inside her.

"Oh G-god..." She found herself trembling with the lust, the passion, the pure hunger she felt to be absolutely ruined by this man. "P-please..."

"Please what?" He put his finger on her chin and tilted her face up to him. "Say it."

"P-please..." She murmured again. "Take me...fuck me...use me...I want it so bad..."

His hand slithered up her torso, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake, before fastening itself around her neck. His finger pressed against Sana's lips and she opened them and allowed it in.

"I was just waiting for you to ask, sweetheart." He moved a fraction of an inch, almost imperceptibly, closer. "You're mine."

"Oh yes..." Sana moaned. "I'm...I'm yours...All – all yours..."

He leaned down and, in the same low, calm tone, spoke. "Good girl."

It made her feel like melting. Her legs went weak and she leaned into him, heat pooling in her abdomen.

"Oh God...I'm s-sorry...I don't know what's wrong with me, I-I'm not usually like this..."

"I do have an effect like that, don't I?" She gasped as he reached around, kneading her ass.

"It's – you're just so...so hot..."

"I know, sweetie." His hands moved down to the backs of her thighs and suddenly she was in the air, legs spread on either side of his waist and her entire body pressed against the solid mass of muscle that was his torso. She gasped, taking short, shuddering breaths; she could feel the obvious bulge in his pants rubbing against her.

"We call that confidence, baby girl." He bucked his hips, pressing his clothed cock even harder against her sopping wet heat, and she moaned again. "Seems to make girls like you go...wild."

Her hands felt over his pecs to his rock-solid biceps supporting her weight, the strong arms holding her against the equally as strong body they were attached to.

"P-please, stop teasing me..." She breathed. "Just fuck me..."

He set her down on the couch, discarded his jacket, and loosened his tie, peering amusedly at her flushed face and heaving chest.

"Beg me."

"Please, master, fuck me. I'm s-so wet, I need to feel you in me...make me your little toy, use me however you want, I'm just a c-cumdump for you...I'll do anything..."

"You are one needy little slut, aren't you, Sana?" He tossed the tie onto the couch and unbuttoned his shirt. It hung loose and open, allowing her a sweet eyeful of his shredded abs.

"Yes..." She nodded, almost dazedly.

"Yes, what?" He raised his eyebrows.

"Yes, master~"

The words sounded odd to her ears, but somewhere deep inside she knew it was right. She knew that was her place: to obey. To submit.

"Good. Now strip."

She rid herself of her outfit as quickly as she could, squirming under the gaze she was scrutinized with.

"Very nice." He slipped off the shirt and approached the couch.

"Well, well, well, what did I miss?"

Momo had returned from 'changing' and was leaning against the wall, completely exempt of clothing. Yusufu turned around and, seeming to remember what Sana'd said about her challenging dominance, his eyes narrowed. "Oh, you've returned? Time for you to join her."

Momo's eyes flicked to Sana's spread-legged form, and her expression shifted. "Looking quite tasty there, Sana."

Sana blushed and her legs twitched closer together, and Momo started approaching slowly.

"One second, sweetie." Yusufu held up one finger to Sana before intercepting Momo's path. In a flash he grabbed her wrists and held them above her head against the wall.

It was subtle, but Sana could see and hear Momo's quiet, aroused gasp before looking up defiantly at him.

"I know your type, Momo." He breathed into her face. "You like to test. You like to needle and push people's buttons, don't you? I'm going to let you know right know that I'm not one to be defeated."

"Ooh." She shivered sarcastically. "Chilling."

He was silent for a moment, and then chuckled.

"I know what you're doing. It's not going to work."

"Oh, really?" She arched her back, rolling her body against his. "You sure you aren't getting just a little mad?"

"Very." His expression remained hard. "I'd like to remind anyone it conerns that I'm wearing a belt, one that I imagine wouldn't feel very nice if I were to take it off and give a certain naughty girl a spanking."

"I'm terrified." She dramatically rolled her eyes.

"You're annoyingly good at getting under my skin, you know that?"

"Oh yeah?" She narrowed her eyes and smiled. "Do something about it."

"Fine."

Dragging her by the hair over to the couch and ignoring her pained protests, he threw her over his lap and slid his belt out of its loops. For the first time she looked slightly frightened, as if maybe getting under his skin hadn't been the best idea.

"It'd be much easier if you'd have just obeyed and stopped pretending to resist." He seized her shorts and yanked them down off her ankles. "We both know you're a submissive little bitch."

"No, I'm not!" Momo lied, even as she bit her lip. "I'm not scared of you!"

He chuckled, raising the folded belt. "We'll see about that."

"Aah!" She cried as the belt swished through the air and made impact with her supple little ass, and a loud crack of leather on flesh sounded. "Ow!"

He ignored her, bringing it down again, and she yelped again. Sana had a perfect view from behind of his shoulders flexing to bring the belt back up into the air.

"Yeah, hurts, doesn't it?" Another loud snap. "Stupid little slut."

"S-shut up!" Her voice faltered.

"Still going, huh?" Smack.

"Weak-ass motherfucker!"

He laughed, the mirth not reaching his gleaming eyes. "You shouldn't have said that."

He folded the belt over itself again and really got to work, giving her smack after smack as fast as he could.

"Fuck! Ow!" She yelled. "Kaesaekki!" (Bastard!)

"Insolent little bitch!" He only spanked harder, rapidly turning her ass cheeks a nice shade of red.

"Oww! I'm sorry!" She squirmed, trying to escape the punishing blows, but he pinned her flailing legs down with one of his own and held her torso down with one strong arm. "Stop, please!"

"Now, now, kahaba, it wouldn't be much of a punishment if I stopped when you asked, would it?" He said loudly over her yells, callous pleasure in his voice. "No, I need to teach you a lesson!"

"I've learned my lesson, I promise!" Tears started to well in her eyes from the pain and from the humiliation of being spanked like a child in front of her best friend.

The best friend in question was sitting against the back of the couch with her legs spread wide open, unabashedly fingering herself to the sight of her best friend getting spanked. Small whimpers escaped her as she teased herself

"Really, Sana?" Momo hissed. "Really?"

Yusufu paused for a moment to look around and laughed, giving Momo a brief respite.

"Well, it seems I'm not the only one enjoying your punishment, Momo." He leaned to his right a little and glanced between her legs. "Nor, it appears, are the two of us alone on that front. Getting a little turned on, little whore?"

"N-no!" She lied. She hadn't been aware of how aroused she'd been getting, but it hit her in full then. "No, I'm not! And stop calling me that!"

"I'm afraid you're not in much of a position to make such demands, honey." He caressed her ass as Sana's hand continued to work between her legs. "And-" his hand moved lower, teasing her folds and making her moan, "liar, liar, pussy on fire."

"S-shut up!" She felt her cheeks flush. "I'm not lying! I d-don't like this!"

Another resounding smack sounded as the belt made impact with her skin again.

"Stop lying to me."

"I'm n-not! Bastard!"

Smack.

"Stop. Lying."

"I'm...I'm not lying..."

"Even as you're sitting here leaking onto my thigh. Right." He scoffed, spanked her again, then grabbed her hair and yanked her head back to growl in her ear.

"Tell me the truth, you lying whore."

"Fine...I...I kinda like it..." She admitted, blushing furiously.

Smack.

"The whole truth. Spill it, slut."

"Okay! I really, really like this...it turns me on so much, to be dominated and punished like this. It makes me s-so wet..."

"Now, how hard was that?" He tossed the belt aside and delivered a slap to her already-stinging cheeks. "Sana, did that sound so hard to say?"

"No, sir..." Sana hummed in pleasure. "I think you punish her more~"

"As you wish, sweetie." Grinning evilly, he picked back up the belt and gave her a sound whack with it.

"Fuck!" Then she looked over her shoulder with her front teeth clamped on her bottom lip, eyes hazed with lust. "Harder please~"

"I'm sorry, what's that?" He leaned in, widely smirking. "Didn't quite catch that last bit."

"I said...punish me harder, please, daddy~"

Smack. "Master." He corrected.

"Yes, master."

"Better." Another spank, halfhearted.

"Please, give this bad girl more!" She begged, wiggling her ass back and forth. "Punish me~"

"Well, if you want the punishment it isn't much of a punishment, is it?" He taunted. "Guess I'll stop."

"No!" She arched her back. "Please, keep going!"

He leaned down and, with a slap to her ass that made her yelp, snarled into her ear. "You'll have to earn it, whore."

She knew what she was to do, and upon his release of her legs, she slid down onto her knees, finding quite the large package straining against the slacks in her face.

"C-can I? Please?"

No more explanation was given or required as he unzipped, unclasped, and rid himself of the pants, bringing his boxers with them.

"Oh...oh my God~" ______________________________________________________________

MOMO ______________________________________________________________

Momo was quite taken aback at the sheer size of the cock presented to her; she wasn't sure she could fit it all into her mouth. Sana seemed equally surprised and was goggling at it as well. She reached out tentatively and gripped his base, gathering saliva in her mouth before enveloping the head of his cock in her mouth.

"Mmm, that's it, suck it, you little whore." His words, insulting as they were, satisfied her in some depraved, profligate way. She ignored them and focused on doing what she was slowly beginning to recognize as her duty: pleasing Yusufu.

She moaned into it. Her lust was quickly dissolving any moral qualms she had about serving him; as she opened her throat and started bobbing her head, she found that her hands were starting to sneakily move towards her pussy and breasts. Sana, on the other hand, was unashamedly finger-banging herself knuckle-deep, luxurious groans streaming out of her mouth.

'Fuck it,' she decided mentally, 'I'm going to enjoy this.'

She pushed her face down, driving his entire, girthy length into her mouth and throat. As her eyes rolled back into her head, her fingers found their way to her drenched pussy and started rubbing furiously. Suddenly her efforts were accompanied by a blissful sensation that served only to fuel the intense and passionate lust controlling her mind.

"Such a good girl," Yusufu commented, much to Momo's reprobate pleasure. "Hey, Sana?"

It took Sana a second to break out of her little trance, her eyes locked on his dick disappearing into Momo's mouth.

"Y-yes?" She looked dazed, as if she'd been knocked out and reawoken.

"Make yourself useful, sweetheart. Go and eat this little slut out."

She looked very surprised for a moment, but for only a moment. The next second she'd taken on a very promiscuous expression.

"Yes, master..."

She hopped off the couch and circled behind Momo, dropped to her knees, and without a moment of hesitation buried her tongue between her legs.

"S-Sana?" She released the dick from her mouth momentarily. "W-what are you doing?"

"She's doing what I told her to." Yusufu answered. "Now get back to it."

"Mmph!" She yelped and moaned as he thrust his dick back down her throat and Sana's tongue pushed into her pussy.

She was unnervingly good at it; within the span of twenty seconds Momo was already on edge. Yusufu appeared to me nearing his own orgasm, and Sana's fingers were keeping on top of satisfying the body they belonged to.

Suddenly, Sana's tongue worked its was higher, and Momo shuddered in pleasure as the wet muscle swiped and prodded at her asshole. She dislodged the shaft from her throat and stroked fast and hard, trying to milk his cum out of it.

"Oh, keep doing that, Sana," she gasped, "Oh God yes, right there, that feels so good!"

She reached around and pulled Sana's head into her ass, on the teetering edge of an orgasm. Yusufu groaned through gritted teeth and pulled Momo's mouth back down right ass he hit his peak; rope after rope of his thick, hot cum spurted into her waiting mouth. It became too much for her to handle when Sana reached up and slid two fingers into her pussy, and she lost control.

Her cry was muffled, but quite audible as her jaw went slack around his still-hard rod. With what little strength she could muster with the waves of orgasmic pleasure lighting her nerves on fire, she rolled her abdomen in circles to grind her ass against Sana's mouth and a jet of cum sprayed her chest.

The three of them remained in that position, Sana still lapping at Momo's ass and pussy, until Yusufu moved and wordlessly picked Momo up from the floor. Sana, who'd been enjoying the task he gave her, made a small noise of complaint until she saw him wave his hand towards Momo's spread-eagled form on the couch, donning a small grin.

"She's all yours, sweetie." ______________________________________________________________

SANA ______________________________________________________________

Yusufu returned a few minutes later to find a rather dazed Momo sitting in the same position with Sana's tongue working away between her legs while delirious moans poured out of her mouth like juice from a melon.

"Sana. Over here." He sat down at the corner of the couch.

She stopped immediately and sidled over to him, leaving Momo completely out of it.

"Yes?"

Her breath caught in her throat as he pulled her into a reverse-cowgirl on his half-reclined form, and she could feel the heat of his quickly-hardening cock directly on her sensitive folds.

"I believe this is about where we were before we were so rudely interrupted by Momo?" Her breaths quivered and she nodded. "Tell me, do you want to be fucked?"

"Yes please, master~" His cock twitched and she gasped. "I want to feel this inside me..."

"Do you? Say it again."

"I want to be fucked! I want you to pound me senseless and make me cum until I'm just a broken whore!

"F-fuck!" Sana's pleasure went from 0 to 100 instantly and it made her want to cum already. "That's s-so deep, fuck!"

"You know, my little slut, I did not expect you to be so tight." His equable tone remained, but it was quite plain he was holding back groans. She felt handcuffs being fastened around her hands as she leaned back.

"Oh God, yes, yes, you feel so good inside me master! Fuck me!"

His lips attached themselves to her neck, sending little shivers down her spine, and his fingers snaked around to her pussy.

"F-fuck, how are you so good at this?" She managed the words with difficulty.

"Years of practice, kahaba." His fingers danced dexterously over her lips in just the right way to make her moan and squirm.

Momo had snapped out of it and was now sitting against the couch, three fingers pumping deep inside herself at the sight of her friend being so thoroughly demolished. She gasped and moaned at the sensation, joining the other two in their approach to orgasm.

"So - fucking - good...!" The combination of sensations built up the heat inside her again, like someone compressing a giant hot coil.

"Are you gonna cum for me sweetie?"

"Yes, master! Your dick is so good!"

His breath came hot on her neck as he chortled. "Say it again."

"Your cock feels so good, so deep inside me!" Pressure built and built, soon to overwhelm her. "Nngh god, please keep going!"

"Won't disappoint you on that, little slut." His other, unoccupied hand went to her neck. "You're mine."

"Yes, master, I'm yours," she panted, "I belong to you..."

"Such a good girl." He murmured into her neck. "Doing more good for you than for this little slut Momo."

His cock speared into her like a knife into a slab of meat; her walls pulsed and throbbed around him.

"God, you're so tight!" His arm wrapped around her thighs and pulled them up, allowing better leverage to fuck her all the harder. "I'm gonna cum inside this little pussy!"

"Give it to me master! Give me your cum!"

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum!" Momo cried.

"Mm, take it, whore!" Yusufu bellowed.

Then thought was blissfully wiped from all three brains as they joined together in an intense, consecutive orgasm. ______________________________________________________________

MINNIE ______________________________________________________________

"Oh, shit..."

"What's wrong, Ryu?" Minnie asked.

"My car only seats two." She opened the driver's side door and got in slowly.

"Oh, yeah..." Minnie trailed off. "Well...shit."

"What are you two moaning about? Simple fix to that, girls." Gakere took the passenger side and pulled Minnie onto his lap.

Both girls gasped, and Minnie felt something stir inside her that she hadn't felt in a long time. She'd been playing the dom for what felt like years. Dealing with all the hesitant, unsure, even inhibited partners she met, she'd had no choice but to go with it and learn to be the dominant girl the little sissy boys wanted. But all the while, she'd been looking for a dominant, bold guy who would absolutely pulverize her so thoroughly she'd have to rent a wheelchair for a couple of weeks. But something in how he was so forward, so bold and confident, ignited the old sense of submission she'd been longing to have drawn out of her. There was no need to get her hopes up, however. There were always the phonies, the impostors. Fake-ass guys who would have confident brazenness at first. Their acts would crumble when they made it into the bedroom, and her hopes would be dashed, again. So she didn't let said hopes rise at his show of boldness, and past the quickly-disguised gasp, didn't react at all. She'd have to test his resolve and his dominance, after all.

The car doors shut and they started off.

It was only a couple of minutes and a few adjustments of her position (that made her ass grind against him and his hardening cock take its place right between her thighs) before she started to feel a very large something rising to full mast between her spread legs.

"Ryu," she muttered, and with a few meaningful glances down, purveyed her obvious message.

Big dick? Ryujin mouthed.

Minnie nodded markedly.

"Oh!" Ryujin said. "Oh~"

"Oh what?" Gakere raised his eyebrows at her.

"Uh, nothing..." She hastily covered up the wordless exchange. "We were just, uh-"

"Silently discussing the fact that her cute little ass is getting me hard?" His fingers caressed the supple flesh, making her gasp again. "I could tell."

Ryujin giggled and nodded, but Minnie stayed silent. There it was again. That feeling that she'd sought for so long, it was back. Just like a powerful drug, one little taste was all she needed to be hooked.

"How far are we?" He asked, drawing small moans from her mouth through his assertive caresses.

"About 3 minutes out."

By the time they reached Ryujin's place, Minnie was dripping wet. The thoughts of the pleasures that awaited her once they got there, along with his adept hands roaming her body, had made her incredibly horny.

"I would tell you two to get a room, so that Minnie doesn't cum all over my seats," Ryujin chuckled, making Minnie blush, "but we've arrived at the room."

And one quick trip into the house later, Minnie found herself being aggressively kissed and groped against the door by Gakere and to her surprise, Ryujin as well.

"Ryujin - what?" She moaned as both tongues moved lower on her, down to her neck and collarbone, the fingers moving down to her pussy. "Why are you - ohh fuck~"

"I know what you really want, Min." She grinned evilly. "And I'm going to help you get it."

"Oh yes, right there~" She shuddered at the feeling of many fingers pressing into her clit and surrounding spots.

"You're going to get a taste of real dominance tonight, Minnie." She continued. Ryujin's thin finger slipped inside her. "The dominance you've been craving for sooo long..."

Minnie still had her reservations. Ryujin might be able to play the dom well, but Gakere's abilities were still under question. But as his grip fastened around her hair and he pulled her over to the couch, her doubts started to dissolve. She found that a fire was burning hot in her core, a fire of the pleasure she was taking in being treated so roughly.

"You want this one, Ryujin?" Gakere asked.

"I sure do." Ryujin smirked. "Just hang around, I'll need you in a little while."

"You got it." He stepped back and learned against the bar as Ryujin turned to Minnie.

"Up."

Minnie wasn't used to hearing such a commanding, assertive tone from Ryujin, but she rose to her feet.

"Strip. Now."

With slightly trembling hands, she stripped off her top, but the action was met only with a sharp slap to her face. Instead of feeling offended, however, she felt incredible arousal at her friend's roughness.

"When I tell you to do something, you respond with 'Yes, mistress', is that clear?"

Her breath caught in her chest, but she still managed a small "Yes, mistress."

Ryujin leaned forward and put a hand to her ear. "What was that, slut? Speak up, now."

"Yes, mistress." She repeated. The words felt odd to say, after hearing it said to her so many times, but she was disguisedly reveling in it.

"Good girl."

She blushed and her legs felt suddenly weak. The fire was spreading.

"Th-thank you, mistress."

Ryujin's smirk widened as Minnie finished stripping, showing just a hint of the aberrant pleasure she was taking out of this. "On your knees, slave."

"Yes, mistress."

She knelt obediently, and her friend started to remove her own clothing. Minnie watched hungrily with a lust she'd never felt for a friend before, the sight of Ryujin's nubile body just horny food for her. Ryujin had another surprise, too. After telling Minnie to stay, she went into her bedroom and returned with a pair of handcuffs that she clicked around Minnie's wrists. They weren't the flimsy plastic shit, either.

"Now eat me out, Minnie."

"Yes, mistress~"

She leaned forward, planted her lips on Ryujin's clit, and moved her tongue out of her mouth to swipe across her friend's pussy.

"Fuck yes, keep going just like that, baby," Ryujin moaned luxuriously, head falling back as her hands found their ways to Minnie's head and pulled. "Such a good little whore."

Minnie herself moaned and giggled softly. Her entire mind was consumed with the taste of Ryujin's juices, her thought process evaporated by the subservience she was showing.

All of a sudden Ryujin pulled her head away.

"On the couch."

Minnie immediately laid flat on her back on the ottoman, whereupon Ryujin clambered atop her and straddled her face. Minnie's tongue shot out and delved into Ryujin's wet tunnel, prodding, poking, and swiping anywhere and everywhere that could pleasure her.

She couldn't see much of anything apart from Ryujin's naked torso, but she felt someone else on the ottoman, seemingly at her gesture. She gasped as a pair of strong, callused hands lifted her lower body up and a very stiff, throbbing head pressed against her entrance.

"Mmph!" She tried to stop it, maybe slow it dow, but too late. The next second her pussy had enveloped what she estimated to be at least eight inches of rock-hard, pulsing cock.

The pussy on her mouth drowned out her cry, the vibrations bringing its owner that much closer to orgasm. Dutifully, Minnie continued and started thrusting her tongue in and out of Ryujin as fast as she could.

She adored the position she was in; being used like a sex toy by her best friend and a stranger friend of Jennie's. She'd been looking for someone to assume this position with for much too long; she'd never known that she spoke to said person every day. Had she known that Ryujin would be willing to dominate her in this hot way, she'd have leapt at the opportunity.

"Yes, Minnie, keep going, right there!" Ryujin bucked her hips, riding Minnie's face in a desperate attempt to reach her orgasm. A few more seconds passed and then as Minnie's tongue slid over her clit and Gakere delivered a hard smack to her jiggling ass simultaneously, she erupted like a volcano, drenching the mouth and face she was riding in her cum and releasing a cry that every neighbor on the block was definitely awoken by.

Ryujin whimpered and slumped forward and off of her. Gakere's cock kept pumping, the ridges, bumps and veins rubbing over sensitive spots that made her mewl with pleasure.

"Oh fuck..." she moaned, "Keep going...harder..."

Suddenly, he flipped her over onto her stomach, pushed apart her thighs, and plunged back in. The position allowed even deeper penetration, and he sank his hips all the way down until every last millimeter was deeply rooted inside her.

Her eyes widened. "Fuck!"

"So big...!"

"So deep~"

His tip was at a point in her pussy she didn't know could be accessed, firmly pressing against the barrier that was her cervix.

"Oh my god...fuck me, master~"

Never in her life had she felt so submissive and taken so much pleasure in it. Never in her life has she been this infatuated with a sensation. And never in her life had she been more desperate to be fucked, railed, absolutely obliterated by a dick.

Gakere obliged her request and claps of skin on skin rang out as he started giving it to her. Stroke after stroke, he attained maximum penetration with well-honed skill she'd never had the luck of experiencing before.

"Yes, yes, yes, harder! Pound my little pussy! I belong to you~"

Her declaration felt very odd to say, even amongst the subservient-minded thoughts she had. Usually it was the bottom boys she ran into who were doing the serving and the belonging to her, but now she found herself in the same place. And she loved that feeling more than anything she'd ever known before.

A length of black fabric suddenly closed around her eyes. Sensory deprivation was something she'd very rarely been on the receiving end of, but she had always found it quite thrilling.

Ryujin was starting to come back to. She'd clearly not gotten enough of Minnie's tongue, because she straddled her face again, but it was a little different this time.

"Eat my ass, you little whore."

There were no reservations in Minnie's mind whatsoever.

"Yes, mistress~"

Gakere took the opportunity to land a few spanks on Ryujin as Minnie's tongue started probing against her asshole, a largely foreign sensation to both of them.

"Good girl," Ryujin moaned, arching her back. "Such a good girl for me..."

Minnie purred at the praise and increased her efforts. She was rapidly advancing towards an orgasm, and judging by the pulses and throbbing of Gakere's cock inside her, so was he. His groans increased in volume, as did Ryujin's in the face of Minnie's frenzied licking.

"Gonna cum, little slut."

"I'm gonna cum Minnie, don't stop!"

Like New Year's in London, the three of them exploded. Ryujin's cum gushed over Minnie's face as her own squirted onto Gakere. A sea of thick, warm liquid poured into Minnie's thoroughly-fucked pussy, which nearly made her cum again.

Ryujin collapsed off of Minnie's face as Gakere's girthy dick pulled out of her, and the three of them started their rest period with only the panting, gasps, and soft moaning filling the room. Minnie slid the blindfold off herself.

TOC TOC TOC

"Ryujin?" Came a voice from outside the door.

A grin spread across both faces as Minnie and Ryujin looked at each other.

"Be right there, Jungho~" ______________________________________________________________

JENNIE ______________________________________________________________

They'd scarcely gotten into the house before Jennie found herself trapped against the door by Chiumbo's hulking form.

"I'm going to fuck you so hard you black out, little slut." He breathed into her face. His arms, which were on either side of her body, keeping her trapped, felt delectably solid against her.

"I'd like to see you try," she taunted. His eyes narrowed, and she rolled her hips against him.

The other three had already stripped Lisa; she was being fingerblasted by Jaali and pinned to the wall by Kariuki and Onkwani. Jennie's attention was quickly drawn back to her own circumstances as Chiumbo quickly and expertly relieved her of her own clothing.

He grabbed the back of her neck and pulled her unresisting body into the bedroom. Once inside, he shut the door, shed the shirt and blazer, and bore down on Jennie's sprawled, naked form.

She hummed in pleasure at his touch; she was so desperately horny that she didn't really care what he did to her.

"Please," she gasped, barely able to get words out for how much and how adeptly he was touching her, "please tie me up and ruin me, master. I want that huge dick inside me again, I want you to fuck me so hard it splits me in half!"

"I happen to have brought the appropriate tools for such a thing, kahaba." He held up four pairs of cuffs. "Flip over."

"Yes, master!" Her insides churned with excitement as she followed his order and turned over onto her stomach. She felt her legs being pulled apart, and each ankle being cuffed to a bedpost. Then he moved into her field of vision and cuffed each of her arms to its own bedpost, leaving her spread-eagled, drenched, and horny as all hell.

The sound of cloth sliding on skin reached her ears and then his weight was on top of her, his cockhead rubbing over her folds.

"D-don't tease me, master~" She shuddered. "Take what's yours, make me scream, make me cum..."

She didn't know where he'd gotten a blindfold, but the next second it had been tied around her eyes, turning her vision black. Before she'd even had time to react, his cock slammed into her slick pussy.

"Ahhh, fuck!" She wailed in pleasure. "So big, you're gonna fucking break me! Oh god, yes, fill me up!"

Each stroke of the brutal force driving her into the bed was like a peek through heaven's pearly gates. Her world and her consciousness narrowed to the relentless pounding of his shaft into her.

"Yes, yes, harder!" She moaned. Fuck me like the dirty, slutty whore I am!"

His hand fastened around her hair and his thrusts quickened. "Tell me, kahaba, who owns you?"

"You do, master!" She cried. "Only you! I belong to you!"

"Good little whore."

Jennie's screams reverberated in the timbers of the house as he pushed her to new heights of bliss. Her brain drew a blank, overwhelmed by the intensity of the sensation lighting her nerves on fire. Her eyes rolled into her head; she didn't know where she was, or who she was, either - all she knew was that she was going to cum from this ecstasy.

"I'm gonna...s-shit, I'm gonna cum..." Her vision blurred. "Fuck~"

She hadn't heard the door open or his footsteps as he approached; her euphoric tunnel vision had made her completely oblivious to Jaali's entrance. That was, until he appeared in her hazy vision, sat down, and pushed his dick past her half-open lips. She moaned and started bobbing her head as best she could; she would never say no to the taste of Jaali's cum.

"Mm, such a good girl," he said, taking hold of her head and pulling down. "My obedient little slave."

His cock was already wet, probably from Lisa's saliva, but she paid it no heed. Chiumbo grunted with the toil of keeping up his effort; he and Jennie could both feel the fact that he was getting close.

"Fuck," he groaned, "Siwezi kudumu zaidi!" (I can't last much longer!)

"Are you ready to take our cum, little slut?" Jaali asked.

She nodded wildly. She was more than ready; she'd been ready for this role her entire life. The next second, both cocks had been deeply buried into her and both erupted inside.

It was as though dynamite had been lit inside her mind. It felt like her nerves were exploding with pleasure, and her climax struck her like a thunderbolt from the heavens. Her scream was muffled by the cock and large amount of seed in her mouth, but definitely audible nonetheless. A powerful jet of her cum squirted out of her and over the mattress, tears springing to her eyes from the sheer intensity of her orgasm.

And then, it all became too much and her vision faded as she lost consciousness. ______________________________________________________________

LISA ______________________________________________________________

The moment the door had shut after Jaali, Onkwani and Kariuki rounded on Lisa like a pair of hungry wolves. Kariuki picked her up as easily as if she were a little child and with little concern tossed her onto the couch.

"I haven't forgotten how tight your pussy is, kahaba." His voice was low and carried a chilling tone. "And believe me when I say I'm going to absolutely ruin it."

"Mmh~" She moaned even at the mere thought. "Yes, please..."

He raised an eyebrow. "Come again?"

"Yes please, master..."

"Good girl." He smirked. "Spread those legs for me."

She quickly complied and spread her legs apart, watching with ravenous lust as both of their clothes came off piece by piece.

Within seconds they were on top of her, and she quickly found herself moved into a doggy position. To make things even more arousing for her, Onkwani produced a length of rope and tied her hands together behind her back, rendering her completely helpless to whatever they felt like doing to her.

"Please, use me," she breathed. "Use me however you want."

"Oh, I intend to." Kariuki grinned evilly.

The next second, she'd been stuffed like a Thanksgiving turkey in both ends full of thick meat. Her senses were suddenly overloaded with intense pleasure, and she no longer registered anything but the sensation.

"Ohmhghhd~" The sound that left her was in no way intelligible past the excessive quantity of dick in her mouth, but it was well understood nonetheless. Dutifully, she opened her throat as best she could and allowed them to get to work.

She'd never realized how fast a man could thrust his hips until that moment. What the two lacked in power, they made up for in pure speed. With blinding velocity they pounded both sides of her ferociously, sending her spinning headlong down the slick road to climax.

Lisa moaned and whimpered into the shaft in her mouth. What little was left of her reservations about this entire tribal slave concept was crumbling under the relentless, jackhammering assault of these two men. She'd been, relatively speaking, new to sex when she'd come to Kenya with Jennie, but she was now all too willing to indulge in this depraved ecstasy.

Like metal heating up inside a furnace, her body seemed to be getting hotter. A feeling like molten lava pooling in her lower abdomen was rising, a clear indicator that she was approaching her peak. Several slaps landed on her ass.

"Fhhhk~" She cried. She started bobbing her head back and forth in an effort fueled by her pure arousal, skyrocketing Onkwani's pleasure. With what little brainpower she could muster from the pile of mush her mind had become, she intentionally clamped down on Kariuki's cock to ramp it up for him as well.

With a simultaneous cry of pleasure, the three of them joined together in a concurrent orgasm, and a barrage of cum flooded into both holes.

...

"Wake up, Jennie."

It was still nighttime; Jennie could tell by the lack of sunlight attacking her eyes through her eyelids. She opened her eyes to Jaali's rumbling voice urging her awake. Everything in her lower region felt thoroughly used, but her heart lept when she realized they were going to get Somi.

"Are we leaving?" She whispered.

"Indeed we are. Get dressed," he continued, "because it's time to go retrieve my other little slut."

Both of them shared an identically maniacal grin.

"Here we come, Somi."

______________________________________________________________

A/N: Aaaaaaand that's a wrap on Field Trip Part 3. Field Trip 4 will be in progress immediately, so it won't be THAT much longer. End scenes might have been a little rushed, but I was anxious to get this out and get FT4 started. Thank you all very much for reserving the extensive amount of time this takes to read for me. I hope you all enjoyed!

[selineram3421]

*hides behind laptop*

⬅Prev: Part 1- Opposites

Spell Gone Wrong

Part 2- Devilish Human

Alastor X Reader

Alastor is trying a new spell but it's not right and something goes wrong.

Warnings ⚠

⚠ possessive Alastor, Human Alastor, time travel mentioned, Italics= thoughts, kisses, blood, cussing. ⚠

It's been weeks since the spell mess up, but Alastor still hasn't given up on it and continued tinkering around with some of the words in his book.

You don't know exactly what he's trying to do but as long as there isn't a huge mess it's fine.

The breeze outside is nice as you read your book out in the garden, the aroma of roses and daisies hit your nose every so often, and you have an umbrella next to your chair giving you shade.

An absolutely perfect peaceful afternoon, with the occasional sounds of nature.

Until it wasn't.

A big boom sounded from inside the house. You stood quickly and opened the back door, running into the house.

There was smoke everywhere, it made you cough and slow down in your stride as it was so dense. Barely able to take a few steps forward without worrying about hitting the furniture, you called out to your fiance.

"Alastor!?", you shouted and then coughed. "Are you alright? What happened-", you coughed again.

"I'm fine dear!", Alastor responded. "The damn spell went wrong again. Help me open the windows and doors!"

Both of you worked together and opened what you could to get the smoke out. You got a rag to help move the smoke along and Alastor summoned an electric fan, which did the trick.

Once it cleared most of the way, both of you saw a figure lying on the floor of the house.

"Ugh..", the figure groans and sits up, their back facing you as they lift a hand to rub the side of their head.

"Are you..alright?", you ask and take a step towards the person who suddenly appeared.

The figure turns to face you and Alastor groans in defeat.

"Again?", your fiancé sighs.

They are human, a very handsome one at that, and they back away slowly. Their hand moving around until it grabs onto a metal candle holder on the coffee table, swinging it in front of themselves and pointed at you.

"Where am I and what are you?", the human asks with a scowl.

"Hold on-", you start but Alastor stands in front of you.

"Now, now. We don't point a weapon at someone who's asking if you're alright.", the red deer demon scolds. "You'd think my human self would be a little more put together and wearing a smile."

"Human self?", you say surprised.

You met Alastor after death, so of course you've never seen him when he was alive. However, you didn't know that he was that attractive in life as well.

"That still doesn't answer my question sir.", human Alastor says.

"Put the candle stick down.", your fiance hisses out.

The two glare at each other and you roll your eyes. With a huff, you move out from behind your fiance and place a hand on the candle stick, lowering it down.

"As much as this is a shock to everyone, let's be civil about it. Ok?", you say and glance at the two before looking back at the human man. "You're in Hell. As crazy as this is going to sound, that-", you point at the Radio Demon. "-is demon you. And I am his fiancé."

"Demons?", he says and finally puts down the candle stick. "How did I get here? And how did I- he? How am I a demon here?"

"That would be my fault.", Alastor confesses. "I've been working on a spell but the results have not been satisfactory.. As for the demon part, well you'll find out in due time."

"It's no surprise if he's doing what you did in life.", you say. "This counts as time travel doesn't it?", you ask and look to your fiance. "What spell are you working on?"

"A difficult one darling.", is all the deer demon says before kissing your forehead.

Human Alastor looks away and takes in the interior of the house, finding pictures and art along the walls, with the occasional gun display. The furniture is mostly red and brown, like usual but he sees the decorative pillows and knows that must be the other demon's doing.

"If this is Hell, it's not too bad."

"Are you ok though? Did you hit your head?", you ask, attention back on human Alastor. "Please rest if you're not feeling well."

"I'm fi-"

"Just sit down.", Alastor says and pushes his human self to sit on the couch. "There isn't much you can do in Hell anyway since you're a human. So fragile."

You can see human Al-, hmm.. You can see Astor get annoyed by that last comment your fiance made.

"Alastor. Be. Nice.", you say and pull the red deer away, pushing him towards the back room. "Go and figure out a way to take him back to his time."

"Darling-", he starts.

"If you can't be nice then you won't get any kisses for a week!"

Reluctantly, the Radio Demon does as told and walks into the back room where he does his spells, giving you one last glance before closing the door behind himself.

You sigh and turn to look at Astor, finding him looking everywhere but at you.

"You ok there hun?", you ask.

"Forgive me but-ahem.", the human glances at you before looking away again. "I just can't imagine myself with someone as breathtaking as you."

You blush and wave it off.

"Geez. A charmer even in life, huh?", you laugh. "I'm nothing to look at really but thank you."

"Do I-? Does he not compliment you?", he asks suddenly.

You blink in surprise at the question.

"It's just, you seem to act like he doesn't but I apologize if I am being too rude with my question. It would be terrible if-", he begins to ramble.

"Slow down there.", you smile. "It's nice that you're worried but I'm treated very well. I mean, it is you.", you test the waters and pat his shoulder. "Though, why ask? I was told by my fiancé that he wasn't interested in anyone when alive.", you say.

"I don't get to meet you until after."

Is.. Is he flirting with me? You wonder and move your hand off of his shoulder.

Astor takes your hand before you can move it any farther and places a kiss on your knuckles.

"It's a shame that I don't get to have some time with you when alive."

Like deja vu, your fiancé rips you away from the house guest and holds you close.

"My love, you really must stick by my side when we have such guests over.", Alastor says with a sinister smile. "I still haven't forgotten what that blue bastard did."

Astor just smiles.

"Just telling your fiancé it's a shame we didn't meet sooner.", he says. "I can only imagine what fun we could of had together."

"Yes, though it is a shame, it seems that it was certainly needed. What a terrible flirt you are to my fiancé.", your fiancé gently guides your head and leads you into a kiss.

Astor frowns but then has a strange look in his eye.

"I'm surprised you aren't married to them yet. What's wrong? Not sure?", he grins.

You gasp as you break out of the kiss and glare at the human.

"Alastor-", you then state the rest of his full human name in anger. "How dare you imply such a thing! Do you even understand what you just said!?"

Before he can utter out another word, you turn and stomp off, slamming the back door behind you as you go back to the garden.

"I've forgotten what I fool I was.", Alastor sighs.

"Shit-", Astor stands to chase after you but is held back by his demon self.

"No use in going now. Let them have a moment to themselves.", the deer demon advises. "They are a force to be reckoned with."

Outside, you are upset and make your way over to the water fountain, snatching a hell daisy with a hiss as the thorns prick into your palms.

Sitting on the rim, you mutter curses as you rip petal after petal off of the flower and toss them into the water. You go back and forth doing this until you finally feel yourself start to calm down and your hand stings with all the bleeding scratches.

You walk back into the house after noticing it's getting a bit dark, using your dominant hand to open the door and holding the bleeding one in front of your chest.

When you walk in, you find Astor pacing before he stops and looks over at you.

"Dear, I just wanted to apolo-", he walks over quickly before noticing your hand. "Ah, you're bleeding."

"I'm fine.", you say and move around him to get the first aid kit.

He stops you by grabbing your wrist.

You turn to snap at him but then see the human worried.

"Please let me take care of it.", Astor pleads. "Please?"

"Fine.", you pull your wrist out of his hold and sit down on a stool near the kitchen counter. "There's a first aid kit under the kitchen sink."

He nods and quickly enters the kitchen, opening the bottom cabinet under the sink in search of the first aid kit.

He comes back not a second later and sets everything up to take care of the wounds.

Carefully taking your hand, Astor is gentle as he cleans the blood off. Apologizing when you hiss or squirm in your seat. Your hand is then wrapped up in gauze and he ties the end before tucking the extra bit under one of the folds, making it look neat.

"I must apologize again. I didn't think thoroughly about what I wanted to say. I just-", he sighs. "I'm just jealous that I-. That he has someone but I don't have anyone waiting for me back home.."

"Astor.", you start.

"Astor?", he looks up at you confused.

"Oh, I forgot. I've been calling you Astor in my head so I don't confuse you and my fiancé.", you explain. "Anyway, it was still very wrong of you to say but I can sympathize. It's not easy being alone."

He nods and looks away.

"Please be mindful of what you say hun.", you reach over and place a hand on his cheek, making him look at you agian. "But don't be sad too long. You do have someone waiting in the future. Ok? Keep smiling.", you smile.

With a soft smile, Astor nods and kisses the palm of your bandaged hand.

"Only for you."

Alastor shows up and shoves his human self away, wrapping his arms around you as Astor falls to the floor.

"Yes, yes. Be good and wait.", the red deer smiles cheekily and kisses your temple. "Satan knows you need to practice your patience."

All you do is sigh as Astor gets up and dusts himself off, glaring at his demon self.

"It would seem so."

Your fiancé sets things up to send his human self back and Astor helps him. The two grumble at each other but get the job done.

It's the same process as last time, but now with sun stones surrounding the calk circle.

Both of you watch as the human fades away.

"I swear if there's another Alastor that lays his hands on you-", your love says with a tone.

"Yes, I know. You'll do your worst.", you kiss his nose. "But it's nice to know that you love me in multiple shapes and forms."

Alastor smiles and pecks your lips.

"How could I not my darling? You're everything."

"Mhm..", you hum.

Then you remind him of something.

"No kisses for a week"

*screeches into the void*

~Seline, the person.

Part 3

Taglist@

@+in the comments+

ML II Alastor🎙 | SGW ChL✨

[fangdokja]

Some truths are better left buried.

❤︎ Synopsis. A charming façade hides a mind unraveling, as jealousy sinks its claws into a man obsessed with the untouchable "Ice Queen," her mysterious past igniting a sinister need to claim what was never his to own.

♡ Book. A Heart Devoured: A Dark Yandere Anthology

♡ Pairing. Yandere! Ex-Boyfriend x Reader

♡ Novella. Friction & Fire - Part 2

♡ Word Count. 8,000

♡ TW. dom + top + older yandere, general non-con + manipulation, possessiveness, psychological manipulation and conditioning, suggestive themes, isolation, monitoring, lack of boundaries, non-con kissing and/or touching, forced relationship, BDSM, manipulation of circumstances

♡ A/N. Not me only realizing recently that this was a FINISHED work that I never posted. My drafts in Tumblr are a mess I tell you. It's like the various requests, fandoms, and works in general are mixing wahaha. YOU KNOW WHAT IT FEELS LIKE???? It's like I'm universe hopping in the multiverse, going to different fandoms and worlds to bring the content you all want. And, just like someone with multiple jobs and side hustles; if it's not recorded or arranged right, it gets lost to the void I tell you. wahhhhh

The office was silent except for the rhythmic tapping of your keyboard and the faint hum of the air conditioning. The morning sun bled through the blinds in fractured slivers, painting your desk in a dull, sterile glow. You sat across from him, your shoulders squared, your focus unyielding as you combed through line after line of data.

And yet, despite the quiet, he could feel the tension lingering between you like a living thing.

It was still on his mind.

He wasn’t the type to fixate—hell, he prided himself on letting things roll off his back—but this? The thought of your first kiss, of the strange, detached way you spoke about it last night, had lodged itself in his brain like a splinter.

He leaned back in his chair, one leg lazily draped over the other as he watched you with sharp, predatory focus. On the surface, he looked relaxed, his usual cocky nonchalance on full display. But beneath it, his mind was a storm.

“You know,” he began, his voice cutting through the stillness like a knife, “last night got me thinking.”

You didn’t respond, didn’t even look up. Your fingers danced across the keys, swift and precise, as though you hadn’t heard him at all.

He smiled, leaning forward just enough to rest his elbows on the table. “For someone who’s so good at everything, you sure don’t like talking about yourself, do you?”

Still, you gave him nothing. Not a word. Not a glance.

He didn’t let it deter him. If anything, your silence only spurred him on.

“So, first kiss,” he said, his tone as light as a feather, casual enough to sound innocent. “When was it? And don’t give me that ‘transaction’ excuse. I want details.”

Your fingers paused for half a second—so brief it was barely noticeable—but it was enough to make his grin widen.

“I’m working,” you said flatly, your voice like steel.

“And I’m curious,” he shot back smoothly, his grin taking on a sharper edge. “Come on, indulge me a little. Was it some rich heir your parents set you up with? Or…” He tilted his head, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Was it someone you actually liked?”

You exhaled slowly, your gaze still fixed on your screen. “Drop it.”

“Oh, I would,” he said, his voice dropping into a softer, more insidious tone. “But it’s kind of hard to stop wondering when you’re so damn mysterious about everything. I mean, it’s not like I’m asking for state secrets here. Just a name. Or a story. Something.”

Your fingers hit the keys a little harder now, your movements growing sharper, but you still refused to look at him.

He leaned back again, tapping his pen idly against the table, his expression deceptively calm. “Okay, fine. Let’s broaden the topic. Ever had any other boyfriends? Or am I the only one lucky enough to deal with your charming personality?”

The sarcasm in his tone was sharp, but it wasn’t enough to mask the strange, simmering edge beneath it.

“Work,” you said simply, not bothering to look at him.

“See, that’s what I’m talking about!” He leaned forward again, his voice growing louder, though his grin remained firmly in place. “You’re like a damn iron wall. It’s impressive, really. But also kind of annoying.”

You finally paused, your hands hovering above the keyboard as you turned to meet his gaze. Your expression was calm, cold, and utterly unreadable. “If I don’t answer,” you said, your voice low and measured, “will you stop asking?”

“Not a chance,” he said, his grin widening into something wolfish.

You sighed, turning back to your screen. “Then keep asking. It won’t change anything.”

He let out a soft laugh, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. There was something else there now, something darker and more insistent, coiling tightly in his chest.

He didn’t know why this mattered so much. Why the thought of someone else—someone before him—made his jaw clench and his stomach churn. But the idea wouldn’t let him go.

“Fair enough,” he said finally, his voice dropping into a softer, almost dangerous tone. “But don’t think I’m letting this go. Sooner or later, princess, I’ll get you to crack.”

Your silence was answer enough. But the faint flicker of annoyance in your eyes as you typed? That was all the encouragement he needed.

———

The late afternoon sun filtered through the office windows, casting long, golden streaks across the sterile desks. Papers and coffee cups littered the space, evidence of a day stretched too long. You sat at your desk, immersed in another report, your brow furrowed in concentration. The tension that had gripped you for days had finally loosened, and though your posture remained rigid, there was an air of calm about you now.

It was a calm he intended to disrupt.

He stretched lazily from his chair, a satisfied smirk curling his lips as he sauntered over to your side. His steps were slow, deliberate, the kind of gait that was both casual and predatory. Leaning down just slightly, he peered over your shoulder, his breath warm against your neck.

"Still working, huh? You're really setting a new standard for the term 'workaholic.' Should I be worried you're cheating on me with a spreadsheet?" His voice was light, teasing, but there was a flicker of something sharper beneath it.

You didn’t even glance his way. "Your jokes are terrible."

"Terrible? Wow, you wound me," he said, clutching at his chest as if your words had pierced his heart. But his grin didn’t waver. Instead, he slid closer, resting a hand casually on the back of your chair. "Seriously, though. You’re in a much better mood now. My charm’s working, isn’t it?"

"Or maybe I’m just ignoring you," you replied dryly, typing without pause.

He chuckled, his laughter rich and low. "Ignoring me? Oh, sweetheart, if you were ignoring me, you wouldn’t have responded at all."

You sighed, still refusing to meet his gaze. He watched you intently, his eyes tracing the lines of your face, the subtle movements of your lips as you murmured something under your breath. For a moment, he was silent, caught in the strange, unfamiliar pull of wanting to touch you—not for show, not as part of this ridiculous transactional arrangement, but because he wanted to feel the solidity of you beneath his hands.

So, he acted.

Before you could react, his arms were around you, pulling you into a firm, almost possessive embrace. He buried his face against your hair, his lips brushing against your temple in a gesture that was disarmingly tender.

You stiffened but didn’t pull away. Not yet.

"Not in public," you said flatly, your tone devoid of emotion.

He laughed, the sound vibrating through his chest. "We’re in an office. No one’s here but us. Doesn’t count."

You sighed, finally turning your head just enough to give him a withering look. "Still. Stop."

"Stop what?" he teased, his grin widening. He tilted his head, pressing his lips to your cheek in a playful kiss, lingering just enough to make your expression harden. "I’m just fulfilling my boyfriend duties. What, you don’t want me to be affectionate?"

"This isn’t affection. It’s a distraction," you retorted, your voice sharp but your body strangely still in his hold.

"Oh, so you do know what affection is. I was beginning to think you were allergic to it," he quipped, his arms tightening slightly as if daring you to push him away.

But you didn’t. Not yet.

His gaze drifted down to your lips again, unbidden memories of last night creeping into his mind. The way you’d slapped him, the way you’d rubbed at your mouth as if scrubbing him off—it had stung. More than he wanted to admit. And then you’d dropped that bomb about it not being your first kiss. That knowledge sat heavy in his chest now, simmering with something dark and ugly.

Jealousy.

He hated the word, hated the feeling even more. But there it was, coiled tight around his thoughts, tainting everything.

"Hey," he said suddenly, his voice softer, almost coaxing. "You never did tell me about your first kiss."

"Drop it," you said firmly, shifting in his hold.

"Come on," he pressed, his tone still light but his grip on you unyielding. "It’s not like I’m going to judge. I’m just… curious."

"I said drop it." This time, your voice had an edge to it, and you finally moved to shrug him off.

But he didn’t let go. Instead, he pulled back just enough to look at you, his expression carefully masked with that infuriating grin. "Alright, alright. I’ll drop it. For now."

You narrowed your eyes at him but said nothing, turning back to your work.

Still, his hands lingered, his fingers brushing over your arm in a way that felt deliberate. He smiled to himself, his mind churning with thoughts he didn’t want to dissect too closely.

Transactional or not, he was still your boyfriend. Your first boyfriend. The only one you had now.

And that? That was enough. For now.

────────────

The garage hummed with a low din: the scrape of pool cues against felt, the occasional clink of beer bottles, and the raucous laughter of his friends echoing off the cement walls. The air reeked of oil, sweat, and cheap cologne, a heady cocktail that somehow felt like home. He leaned against the pool table, a cue stick balanced lazily in one hand as his gaze drifted—unfocused, distant, and entirely unlike him.

“You good, man?” One of the guys leaned in, squinting at him. “You’ve been off all night. Usually, you’re the one running your mouth the loudest. What gives?”

He blinked, snapping out of his trance, and a lazy grin slid across his face. “What? I’m just letting you losers have your moment. Can’t have me wiping the floor with you every game.”

The group laughed, though the scrutiny didn’t ease. Someone else chimed in, gesturing toward him with a beer bottle. “Nah, nah, there’s something going on. You’ve been staring off into space like you’re in some indie movie montage. What’s eating you?”

He rolled his eyes, straightening up and spinning the cue stick in his hand. “Nothing’s eating me. You guys are just too boring to hold my attention.”

The teasing jabs came quick after that, each more ridiculous than the last. “Oh, I know what it is,” one of the guys said, smirking. “It’s that ice queen of his. What’s her name again? Miss ‘I’m too good for this world’?”

A chorus of laughter erupted, and he smirked, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You mean my girlfriend?” he shot back, raising an eyebrow. “Yeah, you wish you could land someone like her. Don’t be jealous just ’cause I’ve got taste.”

“Girlfriend, huh?” Another guy leaned in, grinning. “Man, you’ve never been serious about anyone in your life. What’s the deal? She finally melt that big ‘I don’t care about anything’ heart of yours?”

He snorted, the sound sharp and dismissive. “As if. It’s a transactional thing, remember? Don’t go reading any Nicholas Sparks nonsense into it.” He paused, spinning the cue stick once more before adding, almost offhandedly, “Though she did mention something interesting.”

That got their attention. “Oh?” one of them said, his tone dripping with curiosity. “What’s that?”

“She’s got a past,” he said, feigning nonchalance. “Romantic history or whatever.”

There was a beat of stunned silence before the room erupted into laughter again.

“Her? No way!” one of them wheezed, slapping his knee. “You’re telling me the Ice Queen actually let someone get close to her? Hell, I thought she’d freeze anyone who tried.”

“Right? She barely tolerates him,” another joked, pointing at him with a pool cue. “And he’s the boyfriend! Can you imagine anyone else even standing a chance?”

He shrugged, the grin on his face sharp and self-assured, but there was a flicker of something darker in his eyes. “Hey, I’m just as shocked as you guys. But yeah, apparently she’s kissed someone before. Wild, right?”

“Pfft, no way,” someone scoffed. “She’s probably messing with you. Bet she said it just to get under your skin.”

“Yeah, no offense, but she doesn’t exactly scream ‘romantic whirlwind.’ What, did she date a robot?”

The laughter rolled on, but he didn’t join in. Instead, he leaned back against the pool table, his grip tightening on the cue stick. He kept his expression light, easygoing, but inside, something coiled tighter and tighter, a venomous knot of jealousy and something he couldn’t quite name.

“Maybe she did,” he said finally, his voice smooth but edged with something razor-thin. “Or maybe she just has good taste and doesn’t fall for losers like you.”

The guys hooted and hollered, taking his words as another well-timed joke, but he didn’t laugh. Instead, his mind lingered on the thought of her—her cool, distant demeanor, the way she brushed him off like he was nothing. And yet… someone else had touched her first.

The idea churned in his gut, hot and nauseating.

Transactional or not, she was his now. Wasn’t she?

———

The laughter around him ebbed and flowed, but it barely registered. He leaned against the edge of the pool table, staring blankly at the neon beer sign on the wall. The buzz of their voices blurred into a distant hum, and his mind gnawed at the frayed edges of the conversation like a dog with a bone.

“Yo, you’re spacing out again,” one of the guys said, snapping his fingers in front of his face. “What’s the deal, man? You look like someone ran over your dog.”

He smirked, forcing himself back into the moment. “Please, like I’d ever let that happen. You guys know me—cool as a cucumber.”

“Cucumber, my ass,” someone quipped. “You’ve been weird ever since you brought up her romantic history. What’s the matter, hotshot? Jealous someone else got to her first?”

The words hit like a sucker punch. Jealous? Him? Of course not. He was the picture of casual detachment, the poster boy for not giving a damn. It wasn’t like they were in love. The relationship was an agreement, a mutually beneficial arrangement. It wasn’t supposed to be messy. It wasn’t supposed to matter.

But it did.

“Jealous? Me?” He barked out a laugh, the sound a little too sharp. “C’mon, you think I care about some guy who’s probably ancient history? If anything, I’m curious. What kind of guy would even catch her eye? She’s not exactly handing out free passes.”

“Curious, huh?” One of the guys grinned, leaning against his pool cue. “Sure, let’s call it that. I mean, it’s not like you’ve ever been the possessive type.”

The comment was met with a wave of snickers, and he rolled his eyes, his grin widening. “Exactly. I’m chill. Relaxed. Totally unbothered.” He emphasized the last word, slapping the pool table for effect, but the laughter around him only grew louder.

“Yeah, sure you are,” another guy chimed in, taking a swig from his beer. “That’s why you’ve been stewing over this for, what, ten minutes now?”

He forced another laugh, but inside, the knot in his chest tightened. What was wrong with him? This wasn’t like him. He’d had plenty of relationships—flings, hookups, even a couple that could loosely be called serious—and he’d never felt like this. Never felt this gnawing, restless ache that made him want to punch a wall and pull her closer at the same time.

It wasn’t even logical. So what if she’d had someone before him? It wasn’t like he owned her. She was her own person, icy and untouchable as she was. And yet…

And yet.

The image of her brushing off his kiss the night before crept into his mind, unbidden and unwelcome. The way she’d wiped her sleeve across her mouth, the way her voice had been sharp, cutting, when she’d told him it wasn’t her first kiss.

The thought burned.

He clenched his jaw, spinning his pool cue in his hands like a restless fidget. It didn’t make sense. None of it made sense. He wasn’t the jealous type. He wasn’t the possessive type. He was laid-back, easygoing, always ready with a joke or a grin. That was who he was. That was what made him so good at this kind of thing.

So why did the thought of her with someone else make him feel like he was coming apart at the seams?

“Alright, spill it,” one of the guys said, breaking through his spiraling thoughts. “Who was it, huh? Some prince charming? Some straight-laced business major who knows how to schmooze parents?”

He scoffed, the sound automatic. “Please. Like I’d even know. She didn’t exactly give me a play-by-play.”

“Bet it was some boring, pencil-pushing nerd,” another guy chimed in. “She seems like the type to go for someone... predictable.”

Predictable. The word grated against his nerves. Predictable wasn’t him. It wasn’t them. Their relationship, transactional as it was, wasn’t supposed to fit into neat little boxes. It was supposed to be different.

He was supposed to be different.

But here he was, sitting in a dingy garage with his friends, trying to rationalize the irrational. Trying to figure out why he cared so much about a past that wasn’t supposed to matter.

“You guys are way off,” he said finally, his tone light but his grip on the cue stick betraying him. “If she did have someone before me, they weren’t memorable. She’s with me now, isn’t she? That’s all that counts.”

“Spoken like a true charmer,” one of them teased, and he smirked, though the weight in his chest didn’t lift.

Yeah, she was with him now. That was all that mattered.

So why didn’t it feel like enough?

———

The ribbing didn’t stop. If anything, it picked up speed like a train without brakes, and he was tied to the tracks.

“You’re really off your game tonight, man,” one of them said, chalking the tip of his cue stick. “You keep spacing out, missing shots, and letting us win? That’s not you. You’re usually the one handing us our asses.”

Another chimed in, leaning against the edge of the table with a sly grin. “Seriously, you’ve got this whole garage thinking. Is the great charmer finally losing his touch? That what’s bugging you?”

He twirled his cue with exaggerated nonchalance, plastering a smirk across his face even as his grip tightened enough to whiten his knuckles. “Please. Like I’d ever lose my touch. I could charm the rust off a bolt if I wanted to. I’m just... keeping things interesting. Letting you guys feel like you’ve got a shot for once.”

The laughter was immediate, loud, and thoroughly unconvinced. One of them even doubled over, clutching his stomach.

“Yeah, right. You’ve been distracted all night. And don’t think we didn’t catch the little bombshell you dropped earlier. The Ice Queen has a romantic history?”

“Shocking, right?” another piped up, voice dripping with mock astonishment. “I mean, no offense, but she doesn’t seem like the type to go for you. Or anyone, really.”

He rolled his eyes but didn’t interrupt, knowing that trying to stop them would only make it worse. He’d been here before—well, not exactly here, but close enough to know the best way out was to wait until they got bored.

Too bad that wasn’t happening anytime soon.

“I mean, think about it,” one of them continued, his tone growing more amused by the second. “She’s this cold, untouchable, straight-laced type. Always looks like she’s got a stick up her—”

“Careful,” he interrupted, his tone light but the edge unmistakable. The shift in the air was subtle but palpable, like the faint scent of ozone before a storm.

The guy raised his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. My bad. I was just saying—she’s not exactly your usual type. And you’re definitely not hers.”

“Yeah,” another added with a smirk. “She probably goes for, like, bookworm types. You know, the quiet, nerdy guys who read poetry and bring her tea while she’s working. The ones who wouldn’t dare try anything until they’ve written a formal letter asking for permission.”

That earned a round of chuckles, and his smirk faltered for a fraction of a second. Not that anyone else noticed—they were too busy piling on.

“Yeah, man, face it. You’re too loud, too flashy. She probably thinks you’re just a walking ego trip. All charm, no substance.”

“Exactly,” someone else added. “It’s probably why your charm doesn’t work on her. She’s immune. Bet she’s only with you because it’s convenient or something.”

The words hit harder than they should have, slipping under his skin and sticking there like splinters. He forced out a laugh, sharp and just a little too loud. “Convenient? Yeah, right. She’s lucky to have me. I’m the full package: brains, brawn, and a personality that makes life interesting.”

“Interesting, huh?” another guy said, raising an eyebrow. “Or annoying? Pretty sure those are interchangeable in your case.”

“Hey, she hasn’t dumped me yet,” he shot back, deflecting with practiced ease. “That’s gotta count for something.”

But even as he spoke, the words rang hollow. His usual bravado felt like a thin shell, barely holding together under the weight of something he didn’t want to name. Something ugly, and burning, and clawing at the edges of his chest.

Jealousy.

He hated admitting it, even to himself. But the idea of her with some quiet, bookish type—the kind of guy who might actually understand her silences and match her calm, reclusive nature—was like sandpaper against his nerves.

And worse, the idea that she might prefer someone like that...

He clenched his jaw, his smirk freezing into something sharper.

“You know,” one of them said, breaking into his thoughts, “it’s kinda funny. For all your talk, you’re acting a lot like a guy who’s got something to prove. Like you actually care what she thinks.”

“I don’t,” he lied smoothly, his voice as light as air. “Why would I? It’s not like this is anything serious.”

The words tasted bitter, but he swallowed them down, flashing a grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Whatever you say, man,” someone said, shaking their head. “But you might want to figure it out before she realizes you’re not as cool as you think you are.”

The garage erupted into laughter again, and he joined in, the sound loud and hollow.

But later, when he was alone, the laughter would fade, leaving only the burning question that wouldn’t let him rest:

Why did it matter so damn much?

────────────

The stars above the city burned cold, distant, and sharp as needles. The private balcony was far enough from the glittering chaos of the gala to offer a semblance of quiet, though the muffled hum of music and laughter still seeped through the glass doors. The cold air bit at your skin, but it was a welcome reprieve from the stifling heat of the crowd.

He leaned against the balustrade, a champagne flute dangling from his fingers, the liquid untouched and shimmering like pale gold in the faint light. His tailored suit clung to his frame, the picture of nonchalance, but his eyes betrayed him—glinting with something predatory, something calculating.

“So,” he began, his voice smooth and edged with a teasing lilt. “I was thinking.”

You didn’t bother to turn from the view of the sprawling city below. “That’s dangerous.”

He chuckled, soft and low, but there was a weight to it that made your spine stiffen. He tilted his head, watching you like a hawk sizing up its prey. “Funny. No, really, I’ve been thinking about us.”

“Us,” you echoed flatly. “The contract is clear. There’s nothing to think about.”

“Sure,” he said, pushing off the railing and stepping closer. His presence was like a shadow swallowing light, oppressive and impossible to ignore. “But I’ve been reviewing it, and I think we’ve overlooked some... fine print.”

“Fine print,” you repeated, finally turning to face him, your expression impassive. “There is no fine print. You drafted it yourself, remember?”

“Exactly,” he said, flashing a grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Which means I have the right to amend it if I see fit. And I’ve noticed a few areas that could use... adjustment.”

You crossed your arms, your gaze narrowing. “Such as?”

He stepped closer, close enough that the faint scent of his cologne mingled with the crisp night air. His tone was light, almost playful, but there was an undercurrent of something darker, something that coiled around his words like smoke.

“For one,” he began, “I think we need to establish clearer boundaries about third-party interactions. You know, to avoid misunderstandings.”

Your brow twitched. “There haven’t been any misunderstandings.”

“Not yet,” he agreed, his voice soft and coaxing, like a blade hidden in velvet. “But let’s be proactive. For instance, we should clarify what kind of behavior is acceptable when interacting with... other men.”

You stared at him, your expression as unyielding as stone. “That’s unnecessary.”

“Is it?” he countered, his grin sharpening. “You don’t think it’s wise to define expectations? After all, appearances are everything. Wouldn’t want anyone getting the wrong idea about us.”

“People already know what this is,” you said coolly. “A performance. There’s no need to complicate it.”

“But isn’t the whole point of a performance to make it convincing?” he asked, his tone dripping with feigned innocence. “And for that, we need consistency. Unity. Which is why I propose we add a clause about exclusive proximity.”

“Exclusive proximity,” you echoed, your voice flat. “That’s absurd.”

“Is it?” he asked, tilting his head. “Think about it. If we’re seen with too many... distractions, it undermines the whole charade. It’s just common sense.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but he was already pressing on, his words smooth and relentless.

———

The air seemed to thin as his words settled between you, the kind of silence that carried a weight far heavier than sound. He leaned closer, bracing himself against the railing with the kind of ease that betrayed the sharpness lurking beneath his carefully curated mask of charm. The city glittered below, but its brilliance felt muted compared to the fire smoldering in his gaze.

“Let me break it down,” he said, his voice silken, the edges just sharp enough to catch. “Exclusivity isn’t just about proximity. It’s about cohesion. A story without holes. Every moment you’re with someone else—a colleague, a stranger, hell, even a waiter—it opens a crack in the facade.”

Your eyes flicked to him, narrowing. “You’re reaching.”

He smiled—a wolfish, predatory thing. “Am I? Think about it. Someone catches sight of you laughing with some random nobody, and suddenly, the gossip mill is running wild. The illusion cracks. We lose credibility. And if there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s losing.”

The venomous certainty in his tone made your stomach twist, though your face remained unreadable. “So what exactly are you proposing?”

He straightened, his shadow looming over you as if it carried a weight beyond the physical. “Ground rules. For both of us. Simple ones. For example…” He tapped a finger against the champagne flute, the ring of the glass echoing faintly. “No private conversations with anyone of interest. No one-on-one meetings without prior notice. And no touching—intentional or otherwise—unless absolutely necessary.”

Your brow arched, your lips tightening. “No touching. That’s… excessive.”

“Is it?” he shot back smoothly, tilting his head as if genuinely curious. “Think about it. Even the smallest gesture—a hand on the shoulder, a brush of fingers—can be misconstrued. Especially when it’s you.” His gaze flickered, a flash of something unspoken. “People notice you. They watch. And they talk.”

You crossed your arms, leaning back slightly against the balcony rail. “Fine. But if we’re establishing rules, they go both ways. You don’t exactly have a reputation for restraint.”

His grin widened, amusement flickering in the depths of his eyes. “Touché. Consider it mutual, then. No unnecessary interaction, no inappropriate proximity. Strictly business.”

“And why now?” you asked, your voice measured, almost detached. “Why bring this up tonight?”

For a moment, something flickered across his face—an almost imperceptible crack in the facade. But he recovered quickly, his grin sharpening. “Call it foresight. With the families involved, things get messier. More eyes, more pressure. We can’t afford to slip.”

You studied him, your silence stretching just long enough to make his fingers twitch against the railing. Finally, you inclined your head. “Fine. If that’s what it takes to keep this convincing, I’ll play along.”

He exhaled, a sound that was almost a laugh but carried none of the humor. “Good. I knew you’d see reason.” He lifted his champagne glass in a mock toast, the liquid catching the starlight like liquid fire. “To flawless performances.”

You didn’t respond, turning back to the city below. The cold bit deeper now, but you didn’t shiver. Behind you, his gaze lingered, heavy and unrelenting.

The ground rules were set, the game clearly defined. But as the night pressed on, the sense of control he so carefully clung to felt like it was unraveling thread by thread.

And it wasn’t the rules that haunted him—it was why he felt the need to create them in the first place.

———

He leaned casually against the railing, but his posture was deceptively loose, the sharp intelligence in his eyes betraying his calculated intent. The champagne glass in his hand caught the faint glow of the city below, though he hadn’t touched a drop.

“So,” he began, his tone laced with a playful edge, “while we’re ironing out the details, there’s another area I think we should revisit. Physical affection.”

Your eyes snapped to his, cold and narrowed. “What about it?”

He smirked, tilting his head slightly as though considering his words carefully. “Let’s be honest. Right now, the way things are? We’re convincing, sure—but just barely. The hand-holding, the occasional arm around the waist? It’s surface-level. Anyone with half a brain can see through it.”

“That’s the point,” you replied, your voice calm but firm. “It’s enough to maintain appearances without crossing unnecessary lines.”

His grin widened, but there was an almost imperceptible edge to it, a flicker of something darker in his expression. “Enough for who? The nosy old ladies at brunch? Sure. But for the vultures at this level? Not a chance. They smell weakness. And right now, what they see screams ‘contractual convenience,’ not passion. We need to up our game.”

You folded your arms across your chest, your stance unmoving. “Define ‘up our game.’”

“Well,” he said smoothly, setting the untouched glass on the railing, “kisses, for one. Not just the casual kind. Something real. Convincing. Hell, even a few heated moments in public wouldn’t hurt. And behind closed doors?” He gave a mock shrug, his grin turning teasing. “Who knows? Maybe even a little noise for the sake of appearances.”

You rolled your eyes so hard it was a wonder they didn’t fall from your skull. “You’re joking.”

“Am I?” he replied, his tone maddeningly reasonable. “Think about it. The way things are now, people will start talking. Rumors of a weak marriage. Arranged out of convenience, not love. And with you being... well, you—” his gaze flicked over you, deliberate and lingering— “it won’t take long for people to start circling. People like to test boundaries when they think they can get away with it.”

“People already talk,” you shot back. “That’s inevitable. But none of this changes the fact that this is fake. I’m not pretending that far.”

“Why not?” he countered, his grin sharpening. “You’ve already agreed to exclusivity. This is just the logical next step.”

“It’s unnecessary,” you said flatly. “The exclusivity rules make sense. This? This is overreach.”

He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a low, almost coaxing tone. “Is it, though? Think about it. If we don’t convince them, it undermines everything we’ve built. You don’t want to spend the rest of this arrangement fending off speculation and propositions, do you?”

“Speculation is manageable,” you said, your voice cool and steady. “And propositions are irrelevant. I can handle myself.”

“Of course you can,” he said, his tone light but his gaze intense. “But why should you have to? Why not just nip it in the bud? Make it clear to everyone that you’re untouchable.”

Your lips pressed into a thin line, your patience fraying. “I already am untouchable.”

His grin didn’t waver, but there was a flicker of something else beneath it—jealousy, sharp and bitter. “Sure. But people don’t see that. What they see is opportunity. The kind that comes from a woman who’s too beautiful, too brilliant, and too unattainable for her own good.”

The words were teasing, but the way he said them made your skin prickle. There was something possessive lurking beneath the surface, something he tried to bury beneath layers of logic and charm but couldn’t entirely hide.

“This isn’t about logic,” you said, your voice steady but edged with steel. “It’s about control. And I’m not giving you that.”

He raised his hands in mock surrender, his grin turning mischievous. “Touché. But hey, I’m just saying—when the rumors start flying and the vultures start circling, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

You turned back to the city, dismissing him with a sharp glance. “Noted. But the answer is still no.”

He chuckled softly, the sound low and dangerous. “Fair enough. For now.”

———

The cold of the night pressed against your skin, biting and relentless, but his body, wrapped tightly around yours, was an oppressive heat you couldn’t shake. The weight of his arms on your shoulders felt heavier than it should, his fingers grazing your arms with a possessive slowness. He leaned into you, his chest firm against your back, his breath warm and invasive against your ear.

“You know,” he murmured, his tone as smooth as the glassy city lights below, “this hesitation of yours—it’s fascinating. Almost charming, in its own way. But... I can’t help but wonder.” His voice dipped lower, a silken purr laced with something darker. “What’s got you so hesitant? People do this all the time, don’t they? Even when it doesn’t mean anything.”

You stiffened, your gaze locked on the sprawling cityscape, refusing to turn. Your neutrality was a fortress, built brick by brick to withstand his probing. But his persistence was a battering ram. Slowly, deliberately, he dipped his head closer, inhaling deeply near the curve of your neck, the action intimate enough to send a shiver rippling through your body.

“Unless,” he mused, his lips curving into a smirk you couldn’t see but could feel like a knife at your throat, “it’s because of them. You know, the one who got that first kiss of yours. Was it them?”

The question hung in the air, venomous and cutting. For a fraction of a second, the apathy on your face cracked—a millisecond’s slip in the armor you wore so flawlessly. Your hand twitched, and your lips parted as though to respond, but no words came. Instead, your expression hardened once more, a glacial mask snapping back into place. Silent. Untouchable.

But he had seen it.

That brief, fleeting moment of vulnerability had told him more than you ever could. And though his smile remained, it was stretched too tight, his teeth bared in something that wasn’t amusement. His fingers dug into your shoulders, just a little too hard, before softening as if to mask the momentary lapse in control.

“Ah,” he said, the word slipping out in a low exhale, almost inaudible. He pressed closer, the air between you suffocating. “So it was them. That explains so much.”

His tone was still light, teasing, but the undercurrent of tension was unmistakable, coiling tighter and tighter beneath his practiced facade. His lips ghosted near your temple, the proximity a calculated weapon, and his fingers trailed down your arms, leaving trails of heat in their wake.

“You know,” he continued, his voice honeyed but sickly sweet, “whoever they were... they must have left quite the impression to make you this way. But I’m curious—did it mean anything to you? Or was it just... a moment?”

Your silence was deafening, a dagger plunged into the space between you.

He chuckled softly, though the sound was hollow. “Not that it matters, of course. You’re here now, with me. That’s all that really counts, isn’t it?”

But his grip tightened imperceptibly, his smile curving into something dangerous, something that betrayed the storm raging just beneath the surface. He didn’t let go. If anything, his hold on you became stronger, his presence more invasive.

And though he kept his composure, the truth was a venomous whisper in his mind, sinking its fangs deep and twisting.

Not fucking happy at all.

────────────

He didn't bring it up again. Any of it, anymore.

But, the room still felt colder than it should have. The air conditioning hummed low, but the chill that seeped into your skin wasn’t mechanical. It was the kind of cold that came from within, from the way your fingers gripped the edge of the desk too tightly, from the rigidity in your spine as you pretended not to notice the man leaning against the corner with the practiced ease of someone who could read you too well.

He’d been watching you for too long now, his gaze like a scalpel, peeling away layers you’d tried so hard to keep intact. He shifted, breaking the stillness with a deliberate, exaggerated sigh.

“You know,” he began, his voice carrying that maddeningly playful lilt, “if looks could kill, that desk would be in pieces by now. What’d it ever do to you, baby?”

You didn’t answer. Of course, you didn’t.

He moved closer, the faint scent of his cologne mingling with the sterile air. The sound of his footsteps was soft but deliberate, a hunter’s tread. “Still giving me the silent treatment? Harsh. I’m starting to think you don’t appreciate my charming company.”

“Go away,” you said, your voice clipped, devoid of emotion. Your fingers tightened on the desk, a small tell he didn’t miss.

“Aw, come on,” he said, his grin audible in his voice. “Don’t be like that. I’m just trying to help. You know, as your incredibly dedicated, selfless boyfriend.” He leaned closer, his hand resting on the back of your chair. “And let’s face it, I’m the only person who’d put up with you when you’re like this.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t look at him. It was exactly the reaction he wanted.

“Seriously,” he continued, his tone shifting to something softer but no less teasing. “What’s going on? You’re more wound up than usual, and that’s saying something.”

“I’m fine,” you said, the words flat, a wall slamming down between you.

“Sure you are,” he said, circling around to lean on the desk beside you. He crossed his arms, his smirk unwavering. “You know, for someone so icy, you’re terrible at hiding when something’s bothering you.”

“I said I’m fine,” you repeated, your tone sharper now.

“And I said I don’t believe you,” he shot back, his voice light but with an edge of persistence. “C’mon, Ice Queen. What’s eating at you? Work? Family? Or did someone finally dare to make eye contact for more than three seconds?”

You ignored him, your focus locked on the papers in front of you, but he wasn’t deterred. He crouched slightly, putting himself in your line of sight.

“Look, I get it,” he said, his tone almost mockingly serious. “You’re all about the whole ‘strong, independent, untouchable’ thing. Very admirable. But newsflash, sweetheart: nobody’s that stoic all the time. Except maybe statues. And even they crack eventually.”

You pushed back from the desk abruptly, rising to your feet, but he didn’t give you space. Instead, he moved closer, his hand brushing your arm as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

“You’re really not gonna tell me, huh?” he said, his voice dropping to a murmur. He leaned in slightly, his breath warm against your ear. “Not even a hint? A clue? C’mon, I’m dying here.”

You stiffened, stepping away, but he followed, his persistence like a shadow clinging to your every move. His hand caught yours this time, his grip firm but not forceful.

“You know,” he said, tilting his head with a smirk that was all sharp edges, “this whole ‘bottling it up’ thing you do? It’s kinda cute. Annoying, but cute. But it’s also not healthy. So spill.”

“There’s nothing to spill,” you snapped, finally turning to face him. Your eyes were cold, your voice even colder, but he wasn’t fazed.

“Liar,” he said simply, his grin widening. “You’re terrible at it, by the way. And you know I’m not going anywhere until you give me something.”

You glared at him, your jaw tightening, but he just leaned closer, his fingers brushing against your arm. “Is it work? Someone bothering you? Or—” His tone shifted, sly and teasing now. “Wait, don’t tell me. Is it me? Did I finally get under your skin?”

“Always,” you muttered, pulling your hand free and turning away.

He laughed, the sound warm but with a sharpness that didn’t quite match. “Good. Means I’m doing my job right. But seriously, baby girl, if someone’s bothering you—besides me, obviously—you’d tell me, right?”

You didn’t answer, and for a moment, the teasing dropped from his voice entirely. He straightened, his gaze darkening as he watched you retreat to the far side of the room.

“You don’t tell anyone anything, do you?” he said softly, almost to himself. The words weren’t a question; they were a statement, heavy with an emotion he refused to name.

You paused, your back to him, but didn’t turn.

“Fine,” he said after a moment, his usual bravado snapping back into place like armor. He grinned, stepping toward you again. “Keep your secrets. But just so you know, sweetheart, I’m very good at getting what I want. And you? You’re not as unreadable as you think.”

The way he said it—soft, teasing, but with an undercurrent of something darker—sent a shiver down your spine. But you didn’t respond, and he didn’t push further. Not yet.

────────────

The glow of his laptop bathed the dim room in cold, blue light. The muffled sounds of the city filtered through the cracked window—a distant hum of engines, the occasional wail of a siren. But none of it reached him. His focus was absolute, his fingers ghosting over the keyboard with a precision that bordered on surgical.

Lines of text blurred and refreshed, tabs multiplied, searches refined. It was nothing. It was nothing. Just... research. A precaution, really. Something any diligent professional would do in his field.

"Due diligence." The phrase rolled through his mind like a soothing mantra as he adjusted his search parameters. Business students did this all the time, didn’t they? Gathering information on potential clients, tracking leads. It wasn’t unethical—it was smart. Practical. Just like he was.

His brow furrowed as the screen refreshed again, yielding nothing new. No personal social media accounts. No tagged photos. Everything you had out there was airtight—pristine. Your LinkedIn was polished to perfection, clinical and devoid of any personal flair. Your work email was meticulously professional. No footprints, no cracks.

You were a fortress, an enigma wrapped in ice, and it was maddening.

"Not even a stupid Instagram," he muttered under his breath, leaning back in his chair and scrubbing a hand through his hair. His other hand hovered over the touchpad, fingers twitching with a restless energy he couldn’t quite contain. He hated how good you were at this, at keeping the world at arm's length. It was infuriating.

And yet, it only made him more determined.

Because how else was he supposed to help you? Protect you? It wasn’t like you’d talk to him, let alone open up. You were a steel door slammed shut, your apathy the lock, and your sharp, biting tongue the key he could never quite reach.

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “This isn’t stalking,” he murmured, as if saying it aloud could make it true. “This is... protecting my investment.”

He winced at the word. It felt wrong somehow, but logical. The contract between you two was the foundation of your relationship, after all. If you didn’t want to share your problems with him, fine—but he couldn’t just stand by and do nothing. That wasn’t who he was.

“People research celebrities all the time,” he reasoned, his voice low and even, the rhythm of his own words calming. “Background checks, public records... It’s normal. It’s not like I’m invading her privacy. This is just... strategy.”

But even as he said it, a part of him bristled.

It wasn’t just strategy. And he knew it.

The truth was, it gnawed at him—the not knowing. The mystery of you was a drug he couldn’t quit, the unanswered questions keeping him awake at night. Who was the person who kissed you first? Why did your walls feel so much higher, so much thicker, lately? What the hell was going on in that brilliant, maddening head of yours?

He leaned forward again, fingers flying across the keyboard with renewed purpose. If he couldn’t ask you, he’d find out on his own. He told himself it wasn’t because he needed to know, wasn’t because the thought of anyone else touching you—or knowing you—made his stomach twist with something cold and acidic.

No, it wasn’t jealousy again. It was logic. Rationality.

But as the hours ticked by and the search grew colder, that logic began to crack.

His phone buzzed, breaking the silence. He glanced at the screen—one of the boys from the garage had sent a message, probably another joke about his “domestication.” He ignored it, returning his gaze to the screen.

Nothing. Again.

“Damn it,” he hissed, slamming the laptop shut with more force than necessary. He sat back, running both hands through his hair, staring up at the cracked ceiling.

You were impossible. And that impossibility—it thrilled him. Infuriated him. Tore at him like a splinter buried too deep to pull out.

But he wouldn’t stop. Not until he had answers.

Because protecting you wasn’t just part of the job anymore.

It was everything.

────────────

♡ Masterlist. If you want to be added or removed from the tag list, just comment on the MASTERLIST of A Heart Devoured (AHD): A Dark Yandere Anthology. Thank you.

♡ Tag List. “A Heart Devoured”: @definetlythinkimanalien , @floooring , @lilyalone , @theogborjie , @ne7zach , @songbirdgardensworld

❤︎ Fang Dokja's Books.

♡ Book 1. A Heart Devoured (AHD): A Dark Yandere Anthology ♡ Book 2. 🔞Forbidden Fruits (FF): Intimate Obsessions, Unhinged Desires. ♡ Book 3. World Ablaze (WA) : For You, I'd Burn the World. ♡ Book 4. Whispers in the Dark (WITD): Subtle Devotion, Lingering Shadows.

[flaxen-phoenix]

I used to work as a self checkout attendant for a certain Sammy's Bargain Bastion Boutique during the pandemic in 2020. Because no one was spending cash, we eventually went into a coin shortage. To compensate for this, we turned all the self checkout registers to card only. Now, the thing about SBBB's self checkouts is that when they're card only, they have two key differences:

1: they say "CARD ONLY - NO CASH PAYMENTS - NO CASH BACK" in big, bold white letters on a dark blue background on the title screen. I'm nearsighted to the point where my computer screen, less than elbow length away from my face, is completely illegible. Even I could read it without my glasses, from the opposite corner of the self checkout bullpen.

2: When you scan your first item, it doesn't go right to the item-scanning screen. Instead, it pops up with a dialog box warning you that the register is card only, and the narrator asking "Do you wish to continue?", and you can't scan your second item until you acknowledge the dialog box.

I swear to god I got so many people asking me "Why won't it let me scan my items?", and I had to point them to the dialog box preventing them from scanning any more items. It got to the point where they actually removed the dialog box because nobody would read it.

Naturally, that was even worse.

I had so many customers who didn't read the title screen, would go up to a register intending to pay with cash, and then they get to the payment screen, only to find that it doesn't accept cash.

In most cases, this was a simple fix: I could suspend the transaction and send them to a staffed register, which always accepts cash. The terminal would print out a suspension slip with a barcode on it, and then they could scan it to pick the transaction up at another register, exactly the same as where they left off.

However, I couldn't do this for transactions where part had been paid already.

Cue one customer pulling me aside and asking why he couldn't pay. I tell him the register he's at was card only. He had already paid partially with EBT, so I couldn't suspend the transaction, and there was a line forming for the ONE (1) register that still accepted cash. He only had six items, so I aborted the transaction, and he got in line. He was pretty pissed by that point, but then, four items into his transaction on the new register, he pulls me aside again and asks why his peppers aren't scanning. I scan them properly, first try, and he says "You wanna be a smartass, we'll take this outside".

My boss, meanwhile, was standing at another register, filling it with cash to try and clear the line up. On his way out, he turns to her and says "This place looks like shit, you better clean it up." Once he was out of earshot we both had a good laugh at his expense, though.

never forget the universal rule of the order of things: People Will Not Read It

[snowysosturn]

Fire & Desire - Matt Sturniolo Part 9

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

Pairing: Y/n x Matt Sturniolo

Summary: Y/n has always clashed with Matt. Despite working for Chris’s clothing brand and being close with Nick, her relationship with Matt has always been tense at best. While being forced to be around each other more, their animosity turns into something deeper. Can they overcome their differences, or will their fiery emotions tear them apart?

Warnings: MDNI, angst, tension, mentions of drinking and being hungover

I glance at the bouquet one last time, the petals now frayed with bits of trash throughout it. With a sigh, I place it gently back in the bin. Keeping it would feel.. strange. Too much. But the card.. that’s something I can’t seem to leave behind. I place it back in the envelope and slip it into my pocket before picking up the box I’d left on the floor and putting it in the trash before heading back inside.

My mind is elsewhere as I make my way to Chris’s room. I knew I needed to get the company card to get Chris a new phone, I’ll have to order it today to make sure its here before he heads to Hawaii.

I push open the door and see Nate falling asleep in Chris' bed. He looks up as I step inside.

“Hey” I whisper, leaning against the doorframe. “I’m looking for the company card. Have you seen it? He usually keeps it on the desk”

Nate furrows his brows and shakes his head. “I haven’t seen it. You’re right though they all usually leave their things on their desk, I didn't see it though.”

“Exactly” I mutter, scanning the desk for any signs of the card. Nothing.

“Maybe it’s in Matt’s room” Nate suggests with a shrug, trying to go back to the sleep I just brought him out of.

I exhale sharply, already feeling the tension creeping in. “Of course it is” I mumble, more to myself than to him. “Thanks, Nate.”

Leaving Chris’s room, I climb the stairs, my footsteps heavier now. The closer I get to Matt’s room, the more I debate what to do. It’s not like I haven’t been in there before, but I still feel like I'm intruding, it was.. complicated.

I stop in front of his door, my hand hesitating on the handle. Taking a breath, I tell myself to stop overthinking. It’s just a debit card. Get in, grab it, and get out.

I push open Matt’s door cautiously, the slight creak of the hinges sounding louder than it should in the stillness. I make my way over to his desk in the corner of the room and scan over it. No card there either. Where could Chris have put this?

My eyes wander around his room. Then I notice it. Perched on his bedside locker, standing upright and slightly tilted as if placed deliberately, is the thank you card I gave him.

It oddly makes my heart skip a beat.

He kept it? Not only that, but he put it on display? I stare at the card, feeling a mix of emotions swirl in my chest. It must mean something to him, right? I gave it to him on a whim, thinking he’d either forget about it or toss it in the trash without a second thought. But here it is, sitting there like it’s important.

Next to the card is a silver metallic bag. It catches the light, sleek and reflective, and my curiosity flares. A gift bag? Then I notice other memorabilia and cards.. Maybe that’s just where he keeps things people give him? For a moment, I picture him tossing everything he’s been handed into one spot without a second glance. The realization makes me pause, a wave of doubt creeping in. What am I still doing in here? I shouldn’t be snooping around, especially not in Matt’s room. It feels invasive, like I’ve crossed an invisible line, yet I can’t seem to stop myself.

My gaze flicks back to the thank you card, and for a brief second, I remember those rare moments when Matt wasn’t a complete asshole, when he’d let his guard down and show an ounce of kindness. Those glimpses of him were few and far between, but real. It made me curious if there was more to him, buried beneath the layers of anger and arrogance.

I clutch the envelope from the flowers in my hand tightly, feeling its edges dig into my palm. It suddenly feels heavy, like it’s holding more meaning than it should. What does it all mean? I shake my head, snapping myself out of it. This is too much. Too personal. I need to leave before I lose myself in this train of thought. I turn on my heel, heading back to the door, but my feet feel heavier with every step, like I’m leaving something unresolved behind.

I sit on the couch in the living room, I put the small envelope in my pocket and take out my phone. My thoughts spiral as I decide to scroll through the thread of messages Matt and I exchanged earlier. Did I really want to text him for answers? Our last messages to each other were.. tense, to say the least. His frosty replies and my final comment about it being the “last time” we’d texted each other still lingered in the back of my mind. 

Why am I even considering this?

Wait, I actually need to text him again.  My mind is getting so caught up in hidden meanings I’m forgetting what I actually have to do. Chris wasn’t reachable, and Matt was the closest connection I had. I sighed, composing myself as I typed out a message:

"Can you tell Chris the business card isn’t in his room?"

I hit send and waited, the seconds feeling like minutes. A response popped up almost immediately:

Matt: "Thought you weren’t going to text me again."

I rolled my eyes so hard I thought they’d get stuck. Of course, he couldn’t resist. I typed back, my fingers moving quickly:

"I don’t have a choice when you’re my communication with Chris."

I pull out the envelope from my pocket to read the card again, the words on it now etched in my mind. Y/n, I’m sorry for last night. I went too far, and you didn’t deserve that. The difference between his words to me at times was crazy. There’s something about the simplicity of the note, paired with the effort it must’ve taken to even organise it, that makes me pause. I wanted to bring it up to him. What had changed between the moment he decided to buy those flowers and when they ended up in the trash?

Maybe it was an accident? The thought feels washy, but I cling to it.

Before I can second guess myself, I snap a picture of the card, my hand shaking just enough to blur the first attempt. I steady myself, retake it, and attach the image to a new message. My fingers hesitate on the keyboard, then type:

"Apology accepted."

I press send before I can change my mind. The message bubbles with the photo of the card and those two simple words feel heavy in my chest as I sit back and wait for a response. My phone remains silent, the screen mocking me with its lack of activity.

It’s in that quiet moment that Nick’s voice cuts through my thoughts, yelling my name from somewhere upstairs.

I sigh, putting my phone in my pocket. Whatever Matt’s response might be, it will have to wait.

 I hear Nick shouting my name from his room, his voice brimming with excitement. “Y/n! Come here! I’ve good news!”

Curious, I quicken my pace and climb up the stairs and into his room. He’s sitting on his bed, laptop in lap, grinning like a kid with a secret he can’t wait to spill. His enthusiasm is contagious, but I still raise an eyebrow. “What’s going on?” I ask, crossing my arms with a small smile.

“I’ve got a surprise for you.”

I laugh, already skeptical. “What kind of surprise?”

“A fun one!” he teases, leaning back dramatically.

“Okay, spill it, Nick.”

“You’re coming to Hawaii with us!”

I blink at him, waiting for the punchline, but it doesn’t come. “What?” I finally manage to say, my voice in disbelief.

“You heard me” he says, beaming. “I just bought a plane ticket for you. You’re staying in the same villa with us. It’s all set.”

For a moment, I just stare at him, trying to figure out if he’s pulling some elaborate prank. “Are you serious?”

“Dead” he replies, his grin never faltering. “You deserve this.”

I laugh nervously, shaking my head. “Nick, you’re messing with me. There’s no way.”

“I’m not messing with you!” he insists, raising his hands in mock surrender. “I booked it already. Ask Chris if you don’t believe me. I brought it up to him the same day he invited Nate and he immediately agreed.”

The sincerity in his voice starts to sink in, and my disbelief slowly gives way to shock. “Wait.. you and Chris talked about this?”

“Yeah” Nick says, his tone softening. “Look, we both know you’ve been through a lot lately. Between the apartment, Ethan.. well, life in general, you deserve a break. You’ve been working so hard for Chris too, so we figured, why not?”

I take a step back, the weight of his words hitting me. “Nick, that’s.. that’s so nice of you. You didn’t have to do that.”

“I know I didn’t have to” he says, shrugging like it’s no big deal. “But I wanted to. You need this, Y/n. And honestly, it wouldn’t feel right going without you.”

I feel a lump forming in my throat, a mix of gratitude and shock making it hard to speak. “I don’t even know what to say. Thank you, Nick. Seriously.”

“Don’t thank me yet!” he says with a laugh. “Wait until we’re sipping cocktails on the beach.”

I laugh with him, shaking my head in disbelief.  I take a deep breath, trying to process everything. A trip to Hawaii? It feels surreal, and the fact that they thought of me, that they wanted to include me, it’s overwhelming in the best way. I just wasn't sure everyone on the trip feels that way.

“Okay, okay. But, uh.. I’m going to need clothes. And a bigger suitcase, considering I don’t have much anymore. I’m practically down to my last jumper already.”

Nick smirks, getting up from his bed and walking to his closet. “I was hoping you’d say that. Shopping trip tomorrow? My treat.”

“Nick, you really don’t have to do that-”

He cuts me off, holding up a hand as he pulls a jumper out from his closet. “Oh, I absolutely do. You’re going to Hawaii with me, and there’s no way I’m letting you go with just whatever’s left from the wreckage of Hurricane Ethan. You need new outfits, bikinis, something cute for dinners, sandals, sunglasses. Everything. Also, take this for the minute so you have an extra jumper.” He says, passing me a yellow Ralph Lauren jumper. 

I blink at him, both surprised and slightly overwhelmed by his enthusiasm. “Nick, I can’t let you spend all that money on me.”

“You’re not ‘letting’ me do anything” he says, rolling his eyes. “I’ve already decided. Besides, think of it as a business expense.” Giving me a smirk.

I narrow my eyes at him. “A business expense?”

“Yeah! You’re part of the Fresh Love family, right? Consider it an investment. Plus I have the company card right now” He winks, clearly proud of his reasoning.

My mouth drops. “Oh my god you had it all this time!” I laugh.

“Yeah I ordered Chris a new phone too, he should be grateful.” He says raising his eyebrows. “And let’s be real, you deserve it. You’ve been working nonstop for weeks, and I don’t think you’ve treated yourself to anything in forever. So tomorrow, we’re hitting the mall. Clothes, a suitcase, anything else you need, we’re getting it.”

I laugh, shaking my head. “Okay, fine. But promise me you won’t go overboard.”

“We’ll see” he says with a mischievous grin. “Tomorrow, 11am. Be ready.”

I sigh, knowing there’s no point arguing further, but deep down, I’m touched by his thoughtfulness. “Alright, deal. But only because you’re so annoyingly persistent.”

“You love it” he teases, as I walk out of his room. I sit on the edge of my bed, yellow jumper in hand, shaking my head. Nick could be over the top sometimes, but moments like this reminded me why he was one of my closest friends. I placed the jumper on my bed and smoothed it out, the vibrant yellow popped against the neutral tones of my duvet. It wasn’t my usual style, but it felt cozy, and I couldn’t deny I needed it.

As I set it down, the faint scent wafted up again, warm and slightly spicy. It made me pause. For some reason, it gave me the strangest sense of deja vu, but I dismissed it just as quickly.

My phone buzzed in my pocket, breaking my train of thought. Hopeful, I took it out, but it wasn’t a notification from Matt. I opened our thread anyway, checking to see if he’d responded and I’d missed it.

Read.

The message I sent, sat there unanswered. It was petty of me to even care, but I couldn’t help it. He’d gone to the effort of sending flowers and attaching a note, yet he couldn’t bother to say anything back?

I tossed my phone onto the bed with a sigh, the screen still glaring at me with his name.

Whatever. I don't know why I bothered with Matt at all. I wasn’t going to let his silence ruin my mood after the news Nick gave me.

I picked up the jumper again, pressing it against my chest. It was soft, comforting even. I folded it carefully and placed it in the top drawer of my dresser, smiling faintly at the thought of having something new to wear tomorrow, well, new to me, anyway.

Matt's POV

After Chris ended the call with Y/n, I felt like absolute trash. The hangover was kicking my ass, my head pounding every time I moved. Christina and Rachel had left a couple of hours ago, thankfully leaving Chris and I to just sit and recover in peace.

We were sprawled out in the living room, the TV playing some random movie in the background. Chris was trying to nap, meanwhile, I was doing my best to ignore the lingering pit in my stomach from last night’s events.

My phone buzzed on the armrest next to me. I lazily picked it up and saw a text from Y/n.

Y/n: "Can you tell Chris the business card isn’t in his room."

I sighed and looked over at Chris, who was dozing on the couch. “Hey, Y/n says the business card isn’t in your room.”

Chris perked up slightly, scratching his head. “Shit.. maybe it is in my wallet” he mumbled, checking his back pocket.

I turned back to my phone, typing a short reply.

"Thought you weren’t going to text me again."

The message delivered, and I leaned back into the couch, not expecting much more. My phone dinged almost instantly, though, and I glanced down.

Y/n: "I don’t have a choice when you’re my communication with Chris."

She had got me with that one. But then another message popped up, and this one made me sit up straight.

"Also, I found these."

It was followed by a picture of the card I’d attached to the flowers I sent, sitting in her hand.

"Apology accepted."

My face burned instantly. Embarrassment clawed its way up my chest and settled in my cheeks. Fuck. I can’t believe she found them. I hadn’t even planned to explain myself, it was impulsive, throwing them out, but it also was something I thought she’d ignore or pass off without a second glance. And yet here she was, calling me out on it.

Chris looked over, raising an eyebrow at my sudden movement. “What’s up with you?”

“Nothing” I muttered, trying to compose myself.

I stared at her text for a moment, my mind racing. My fingers hovered over the keyboard, typing out a response.

"Thought Nate could get you some instead."

I hesitated, my thumb hovering over the send button. Debating on whether ot not to press send.

a/n: sorry this took so long to put out, i was super busy and now im sick soooo hopefully i get over it quickly and part 10 is out soon, this is also kinda short n kinda shit so apologiesssss

taglist : @mattybearnard @sturn-33 @ncm9696 @yourfavsturniologirl @crazy4jewel @sodakid1234 @stupendoustreewinner @lovealwayssturniolos @matthewsturniolosss @m4ttsmunch @loveexxx @ilusa @starkeyszn @wonnieeluvvr @dylnblue @valxrieq @maggot3647 @cigarettecemetary @ribread03 @chrisstvrns @bandasaruswrx @noplaceissafeanymore @amexiass @witchofthehour @mattssgf @jetaimevous @v33angel  @ivysturnss @urmom69lol @ashlishes @watercolorskyy @sturnioloshottiekay @amelia-sturniolo3 @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @pvssychicken @alizestvrnss @chrisstxrnsaxe @sophand4n4 @vickytaa @marrykisskilled @bxtchboy69 @yourfavsturniologirl @julisturn @sydneyylainn @sophia-77n @trevorsgodmother @sturnslutz @yourmother29 @girl24cherry @astronea @pinkdyit

[eclipseberrycake]

Poly! MoonBerryCake x Reader Pt. 7

AN: The long awaited part 7. Before anyone fears, no this isn't the end of the series don't you worry. I don't have many ideas for the next few parts, but I'm sure I'll think of something or one of you can help!

Also how do we feel about giving Reader a tail? /gen I have a few ideas I've been toying with with reader having a tail, but I don't want to cross the line between too self indulgent and reflecting of my character, rather than trying to be as inclusive as possible.

-> Part One -> Part Two -> Part Three -> Part Four -> Part Five -> Part Six -> Part Six 1/2

Warnings: Depictions of past trauma/ injury, past depictions of being turned into a Twisted/ seeing a loved one as a twisted/ recovering from being a Twisted, mentions of vomit, past depictions of losing a lost one, talk of scars (In a positive light, but just in case!)

☁ The first few nights were hard. So, so incredibly hard. Not by any fault of your own, oh absolutely not, but that didn't make the nights any less taxing or offer them anymore rest.

☁ There were a few times you offered tearfully to sleep in your old room so they could hopefully get some rest, each one shot down with a stern No'. The mere thought of having you out of their line of sight was more than their nerves could take, especially somewhere where they couldn't reach immediately? Hard Pass.

☁ The first night was by far the worst. Cosmo can't say he really remembers recovering from being a twisted, but there was one thing that stuck out for him during the entire process. And that was you. You were there the entire time, gently pressing cool cloths to his forehead, helping him sip water, even keeping saltine crackers on hand in case his temporarily fickle stomach decided that food was somewhat acceptable.

☁ You were the same with Astro and Sprout as well, ensuring the recovery, as awful as it was, was still as seamless as you could make it. If there was one thing he did remember about healing from being a twisted, is that he would never wish it upon another being. Much less you.

☁ The first night you're returned, you're rushed to med-bay as a flurry of commotion happens. Those left behind are eager to see if you've been returned, especially poor Toodles who took your turning hard. She's holding Blu when they rush past, tears in her large eyes, but Rodger is quick to turn her away.

☁ Sprout is already barking orders with Ginger meeting them halfway, first aid kit in hand. They had given you minimal attention in the ride up, but they didn't have the time, space or resources necessary to give you proper medical attention.

☁ It's a flurry of action that follows right after. Astro stays up by your head, wiping the ichor that stained your mouth and clumped your fur. His cheeks are shiny as he does it, shaking his head every now and then before continuing his actions.

☁ Cosmo barely remembers all he did that night, there was so much that needed done. That wound you had received from-...From when you turned into a twisted had never closed, the excess ichor from being a twisted keeping you alive. It was an awful, horrid thought, but not one they could ignore as Cosmo hurriedly worked alongside his cousin to close it. Sprout busied himself with working on the claw marks across your face you had made in your confused state. Every bit he seemed to do made his grimace deepen. He wasn't sure what the other was seeing, but currently wasn't certain he wanted to know during this moment.

☁ Your teeth still remained sharp as you groaned in pain throughout the process, hands reaching back up to swat at the insistent burden yanking on your wounds, only for them to be caught by Shelly, who had followed to offer her help.

☁ She had felt awful about the entire situation, regardless if you would've done it either way. Vee as well, though she stayed further back to avoid getting in the way. Shelly's tougher skin made her more resistant to your claws and slashes, so she was a welcome helper, even if it made the working space a bit more cramped.

☁ Seeing you hurt like that was an awful feeling. Cosmo remembers feeling the bile burn at the back of his throat that night, increasing in every little noise or whimper of pain you made. Even when the worst was handled, he had to step back for a moment, hiding in Astro's chest as Sprout continued wiping away what was left. The same grimace was on his features, one much more intense than what was usually there when he was in doctor mode.

☁ He didn't speak more on it until far after Shelly had taken her leave with a tearful well wishes. Even then, the berry had only dragged a chair closer, hiding his face in his hands. Neither Astro nor himself knew where to go from there, and that just made them feel all the more worse as you seemed to fall into a fitful unconsciousness.

☁ Cosmo wasn't sure if it counted as sleep, honestly, not with how you still shook.

☁ "They have so many scars." Sprout finally spoke up, voice wavering before it cracked as he smoothed back his leaves, letting them fall back into place. "They hide them under their fur. How did-..." Sprout swallowed tightly at this before looking up at them with teary eyes. "How did we miss that?"

☁ Neither waited for a moment further before rounding around the medical bed to wrap their arms around the berry. He was tricky when it came to emotions, especially since this entire thing began, flickering between anger and denial like a coin, to see him break down like that was rare.

☁ "It's easy to miss." Cosmo nearly choked on the words, tears welling in his eyes as he flickered between watching your chest rise and fall to the floor. There was a crack in one of the tiles. You'd want that fixed, so no one tripped. He'd make not of it later. "Their fur covers it-"

☁ "Is that really an excuse?" Sprout cuts back in, his own eyes watching you in the same clinical way Cosmo found himself doing it. "For the others maybe. But us?"

☁ Cosmo couldn't find any rebuttal, swallowing tightly. He knows he himself has spent countless hours with his fingers running along your fur, playing with the stands and drawing shapes against the grain of it. He just never really focused on the skin beneath because he truthfully didn't think too. Looking back, maybe that was on him. He should've done better, done something more-

☁ "I don't think anyone's at fault." Astro's comment cut through the sudden silence. He had been dreadfully silent since getting back from the run so to hear him sound so exhausted was...jarring. He always had a sleepy, tired lilt to his voice, but to hear it like that made Cosmo's tail curl tighter against his back.

☁ Silence fell again before Astro was continuing. "I think, to a degree, it would be...more questionable if they didn't have any. They've been doing this far longer than you, me or even Cosmo's been in the picture. We can't stop them, but we can support them however possible as we have been." Astro swallows for a moment, using a star shard to bring a box of tissues closer. He takes one, wiping under his eye before setting it to the side. "They will always be like this. They'll be our self-sacrificing idiot who doesn't know when to stop, but that's why we fell in love with them. We can't change them and I hope none of us would try. Their scars are part of who they are. We-...I love every part of them, even the parts they may not love as much. Those parts we just have to love a little extra."

☁ The words stand, nearly tangible in the air for a long while. He's right. There are very few times when Astro isn't, but it's a jarring notion to understand what you truly went through. Even Cosmo himself hadn't known how long you and Poppy and Boxten had been doing it since he wasn't even the first returned. No, by the time he had been recovered, Finn, Shrimpo and Rodger had been well acquainted parts of the group and you had become comfortable in your role as a distractor.

☁ He wonders just how much of the burden you've carried silently with you. He's terrified of the answer you'd give if he asked.

☁ "I do...I do love them." Sprout choked, as if that was ever being brought into question. "I just- What if they hurt? What if every time we ask them to distract they're just a constant reminder of every past failure to them? They've done so much for all of us. Who are we to ask anything more?"

☁ "Like Astro said, it's who they are. I think if they truly didn't want to distract, they wouldn't. And I hope they would feel safe enough to come to us if the scars were causing them pain." The first tear falls down Cosmo's cheek, which is quickly wiped with a star shard covered in a tissue. "I mean, for heaven's sake, they turned into a twisted to save Vee on a run to save Shelly. If that's not the most selfless thing I've seen, I don't know what is."

☁ "Truthfully, I think I rather would've dealt with Vee's Twisted then theirs." Astro deadpans only to immediately flush a navy blue as Sprout cackles, Cosmo hiding his own laughs behind a hand. Astro practically swallows his tongue as he's quick to try and amend it with, "Not that I would wish that on any of us!"

☁ Sprout shakes his head as he finally leans back, his own cheeks shiny- which the star shard tries to wipe at only to get swatted at, making Astro pout. Both of Sprout's arms reach around to hook around both Cosmo and Astro as he takes a final deep breath. "We'll talk with them. Maybe now they'll see reason. Because yeah. I'm not dealing with that again."

☁ "They were so scary!" Cosmo whines, leaning on Sprout's shoulder. "But also-...Hear me out-"

☁ "Stoooop." Sprout groans, tipping his head back as Astro nods solemnly. "I'm hearing."

☁ Cosmo laughs at this before you're suddenly jumping up, cheeks puffed and they already know what that entails. Cosmo grabs the nearest trash can while Astro gently pulls back anything that could get in the way while Sprout makes for the nearest medication cabinet.

☁ Cosmo holds the trash can for you as you purge the excess ichor in your body, watching your heaves with a heartbroken glance while Astro rubs your back, even if he himself looks nauseous at the sight and sounds. He's quick to switch with Sprout when he returns, measuring out the stomach medication the berry had grabbed. It had aided the rest of them when it came to rejecting the ichor and they hoped it would with you too.

☁ In the very least, as awful as it was, it was a good sight to see as it meant you were recovering in the very least. Even if your heaves sounded painful and tears tracked down your cheeks. It would a pattern that would continue throughout the night unfortunately, which they would need to stay up to assist you with, but it was a chore they were more than happy to do. You had been the one to sit with each of them throughout the night, making sure they had all the comfort you could offer at the time.

☁ So even as the minutes ticked like hours, they knew it was all worth it. Every trip to empty the trash cash, every startled awakening at the sound of your gags, every wince as you pleaded for mercy. Anything to get you back.

☁ The following days are better. The next morning, right before it could be qualified as noon, you were cognizant enough to recognize where you were, eyes unfocused as you swayed, trying to sit up only for that to be one of the worst ideas you've ever had.

☁ The boyfriend on duty is quick to come to your side, with a hand on your back as soft whispers buzzed in your ear. You curled in on yourself, eyes scrunching shut before a deep breath had you finally stabilizing enough you could blink your eyes. Sprout was right there, offering you a gentle smile as he tried to figure out what exactly you were seeing.

☁ You practically threw yourself at him, pulling him close as tears burned your eyes. You cried into his scarf as his hands slowly curled back around you, squeezing you tightly to his chest as his own shoulders shook. "Oh. bud, I've missed you."

☁ "I'm sorry." You blab. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." You cry, squeezing him tighter when it almost seems like he's going to pull away. You don't remember much about your time as a twisted except for spotting Sprout and smelling the ichor of a non-twisted toon being spilt. You prayed it wasn't you to cause that wound, that there was no wound at all, but subtly looking at his arm quickly dashes that hope.

☁ "No, no, bud you did nothing wrong." This time you allow him to pull away, only for his hands to cup your cheeks. "You're just as perfect as you always are." His green eyes shine with unshed tears, which quickly rectify that by trailing down his freckled cheeks. You sob at the sight, your own hands- with nails longer than you normally keep them- cupping his cheeks.

☁ Sprout crashed his lips against yours in a show of desperation, tears making the kiss taste salty as your shoulders fall in relief. IF he was okay, the others had to be okay, right? They had to be? You didn't hurt them too, did you? You prayed not.

☁ Pulling away, you angled his chin every which way, scanning his face as he gave you a few watery chuckles. "You're okay? All leaves, limbs and seeds?"

☁ Sprout caught your hands, pulling them down so he could look at you, nothing but sweet, adoring love in his eyes. "Leaves, limbs and seeds all attached." He coos, laying his forehead on yours as his shoulders heave with a long heavy sigh. "Oh, bud. You're okay."

☁ "You're not." You frown, feeling the tears threaten to burst out all over again. "I'm-"

☁ "It wasn't you." Sprout interrupts, making you blink. "No, a twisted flutter got me, but you? Even a twisted, you've proven you'll still protect us." His smile is sad, but relieved as you feel your stomach finally settle.

☁ You get a few moments more before the door is being slammed open, but not by another toon. No, it must've been ajar, because who else is waiting there but Blu herself, looking as grumpy as the day she accidentally fell into the snow in Bobette's shop, mewing in long, interrupted yowls as she trotted to the medical bed, jumping up and immediately crawling all over you.

☁ Sprout tried to grab her, but you waved him off, scooping up the baby and letting her place her paw on your cheek. You cooed at her, nuzzling your nose against her cold, wet one. She mewled once more before it delved into a purr, making you snicker. "I know, tell me all about how unfair your dads are."

☁ "Oi!" Sprout immediately called, looking only mildly offended before footsteps had you both looking over at the doorway once more. Cosmo was there, already panting as he leaned his head against the doorway. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, she was sleeping and then suddenly just took off and-" He looked up at that point, only for his mouth to gape open. He stilled for a second as Astro popped his head in, looking at the pastry. "Did you find-"

☁ He too was left slack-jawed before Cosmo was moving and he was following, both wrapping you in tight hugs and a flurry of kisses. It was comforting and perfect, and enough to make you forget about how awful your stomach felt.

☁ They were quick to fill you in on everything that had happened in your absence and, honestly? Hearing Astro talk about having his best friend back made your heart thrum and how happy he seemed, moreso now that he had everyone in his little family back at long last.

☁ While your side still hurt and your muscles still sung from the strain put on them. being wrapped between them felt safe. Safer than you've felt since the moment of pure terror that wracked your entire nervous system the second you knew only one of you would make it to the elevator.

☁ Still, you knew there was something on the horizon. A discussion that needed to be had and it made whatever was left in your gut churn and rot further than it already had.

☁ It didn't come until later that night when you were finally back in your room, eating something soft and easy to digest (My personal fav is oatmeal but I know now everyone can eat that so y'all get to choose <3), chatting with Cosmo when a knock at the door made you look up.

☁ Astro had popped his head in, scanning for your form before immediately relaxing when he spotted you. "Are you okay with a few visitors? Absolutely feel free to say no."

☁ You honestly hadn't expected anyone to visit you, really. Goob and Scraps had both had their own tearful reunions with you, Goob especially, and Poppy and Boxten had visited as well. You weren't overly close with anyone else, but while confused, you nodded.

☁ Astro scanned you for a second, as if to see if you were lying, but when he found nothing he stepped more fully inside. Sprout followed, immediately wounding to your side and pressing a peck to your lips. You smiled at him before looking back over, eyes widening at the two toons standing there.

☁ Shelly looked nervous, but waved even as her smile wavered, her tail giving a small, short little wag. Vee looked miserable if you were honest. You had never seen the main so...upset, making you frown. Was she upset with you? You know you probably shouldn't have pushed her, but you had no other option at the time!

☁ Astro took his own spot beside, across from where Sprout had moved to sit beside Cosmo.

☁ "It's a pleasure to finally meet you." Shelly begins, tapping her fingers together before meeting your eye. "I wanted to thank you personally. And apologize. It was me you were retrieving and-"

☁ "And it wouldn't have happened if I had just picked up the pace." Vee cuts in. She makes it a point not to look at you, making you frown, fingers curling around your blanket. Vee let out a sigh, antennae giving a little spark as she wrapped her arms around herself. "I'm...So, so so-"

☁ "You have nothing to apologize for." You hold up a hand, scrunching your features. "I made my choice. You had nothing to do with what i decided. I promise. i never would've done something if it wasn't something I was sure about doing. There was never a moment I was upset with you, either of you." You're quick to reassure, sending them both a smile. Shelly returns it quickly, but Vee only gives you a glance and you frown.

☁ That was Sprout's best friend. You knew you didn't have to get along with everyone, but you wanted to get along with these two especially.

☁ Shelly seemed relieved at least, which made Astro relax at least a bit, but that wasn't enough for you. "I promise, Vee. If anything I owe you all an apology." You wilted a bit, even if Vee finally looked at you. "My twisted is...not the best, even I could admit that and I should've planned with the twisteds better rather than risk putting you guys in that situation. So for that, I apologize." You continue, continuing even if Vee looks like she's going to cut in. "It's happened, and it's fixed already. We can just blame whoever started the Ichor operation rather than try to keep playing this 'who can blame themself the most' game."

☁ Vee gapes and you smile at her softly, opening your arms. "Hug it out with me? Therefore all is forgiven and we can't blame ourselves anymore." The television looks at you, then at Shelly, then Sprout before her shoulders fall and she's slumping forward. You wrap your arms around her, feeling the chill of her metal plates. Looking over, you make eye contact with Shelly, who smiles sadly at the action. You open one of your arms and the fossil is immediately burrowing into the hug as well with her tail whapping about.

☁ When you separate, they take their leave not soon after, seemingly much lighter than when they came in. But then you're left with the other three. Astro's who's already sitting beside you, but the other two crawl onto the bed so you're all sitting in a circle of types.

☁ Your eyes dart from one to the next to the next before falling to where your knuckles are white around the blanket, having returned to clutching the fabric. You have to actively uncurl your fingers.

☁ You know there's probably tons to discuss, but you don't even know where to start.

☁ So Sprout does. He's never one to beat around the bush, especially looking back to before you all were together, and it's something you greatly admire about the berry.

☁ "We saw the scars." Is all he says, his own eyes remaining downcast as he plays with his scarf. You swallow, debating your options before breathing out, letting down the walls you normally kept up around everyone else.

☁ "Most of them are front the beginning." You admit. "I wasn't a good distractor then. I wasn't even really okay. I did it when we absolutely needed one. We had none of the trinkets we do now and didn't even think about them at the time. So I was an extractor and Cosmo knows that me extracting is like teaching a fish to fly." You spill immediately, thinking back to the lacerations that once marred your skin. "I'm sorry if they bothered you. I tried to keep them as covered up as possible. in case they...upset you all"

☁ "It's not the fact that their there, starlight. Well, I mean, that's kind of part of it, but...Why didn't you tell us?" Astro prods, laying a hand on you knee as another gentle rubs your shoulder. You bristle at the question, rolling your shoulders for a second before responding.

☁ "They aren't number one on my list of discussion topics. I'd rather forget about them personally." Simple as that.

☁ There's silence for a second before Cosmo is raising his hand, pointing to a white line that circles around his forearm. "This is from my time as a twisted. You'd remember best, but my hand was all sorts of messed up, right?"

☁ You nod at this and he points to his eye, with a matching line circling around it, so faint if he wasn't pulling attention to it, most wouldn't notice. "Half my face too, right?"

☁ You nod once more and he mimics the action. "Are you ashamed of my scars?"

☁ "No!" You're quick to bark, immediately ready to quell any worries he has, but Cosmo isn't done, pointing to Sprout- who blinks at the finger like it personally offended him. "What about Sprout? He has his own scars. You ashamed of those?"

☁ "No, Cosmo that's not-"

☁ "Then what about Astro? He's got his fair share too." The pastry points to one of the hands on your knees, which indeed had it's own smattering of scars from his time as a twisted.

☁ "No." You stare him down, gaze hard as he meets your own just as challenging. "Then why does that change for you?" You don't have an immediate answer, and Cosmo pounces on that. "What makes your scars different from ours? Why would we ever be ashamed of your scars, of your journey, when you would never dream of even thinking about that of ours?"

☁ You gape at him, trying to find some sort of defense, but you can't. He seems satisfied at that, but it's not for long as you're speaking once more.

☁ "Mine were self-inflicted." You avoid looking at them, even as your heart practically chokes you. "You never signed up to be a twisted. I willingly trained and worked to become a distractor. These come with the territory."

☁ There's silence for a second before Sprout is speaking once more. "Do they hurt?"

☁ You frown at the question, but shake your head. "No. They don't."

☁ Sprout exhales in relief at this before leaning back on his palms. "This isn't meant to make you feel any type of way about them, bud. They're yours and we understand better than most that scars can bring...complicated feelings. There's just...so many. We just want you to care a little more about yourself."

☁ "Seeing you in danger all the time is hard on his heart." Astro gently jokes, even if he gets a light kick in return for the jab. The celestial takes a breath before leaning on your shoulder, one of his hands reaching to hold your own. "We just want you safe, starlight, above all else. The bed's too big for three of us."

☁ You take a breath that quivered in your lungs before nodding slowly. You had expressed to Astro before how terrified you were of your own twisted and never wished to expose it to them, but did so anyway.

☁ You could only imagine the fear they were feeling the entire time, especially on the retrieval.

☁ "I'm sorry. Not for doing what I did, I don't regret and never will." You began, finally looking back up at them. "But I agree. I've been a bit careless. It's a distractor's job to keep the twisteds occupied, but not by being a dumbass. I don't want to give up distracting though." By the end you're practically pleading.

☁ "And we would never ask you too." Sprout gives you a soft smile. "Even if you stress me the fuck out, you enjoy it. Just...maybe keep the distance between you and the twisteds a bit bigger. And keep an escape route open whenever possible. And a bandage on hand. And a can of pop. And-"

☁ You laugh, wiping your tears as you shake your head. "I get it. I'm sorry I scared you all."

☁ "Just remind us to never piss you off." Cosmo shakes his head. "You're scary when angry. Although, watching you protect Sprout like that-"

☁ "We are not having this conversation again!" Sprout immediately shuts down, hitting the pastry in the face with a pillow, quickly getting a swift hit in retaliation. The two tussle for a second, making you give a wet laugh as Astro nuzzles into you. Your finger taps on the back of his hand, silently asking for an explanation.

☁ He hums in acknowledgement at the unasked question, moving to kiss your shoulder. "You're hot in all forms. Cosmo especially likes your protective side."

☁ This makes you bark out a laugh, calling the attention of the other two back to you.

☁ "What are you laughing at?" Sprout grinned, straddling Cosmo who was squirming under the hand on his forehead keeping him pinned down.

☁ "You're all such dorks." You snicker, grinning before holding your hands out to them. "Hugs?"

☁ You're only able to let out a yelp at Sprout turns instead pull you into his chest, the other two also wrapped in the absolute bear hug. It makes your heart thrum happily, especially when Blu manages to pop her head up in a crevice and mew her greetings happily.

☁ So even while the first few nights were hard, as you lay there, wrapped in the embrace of your boys and feeling their laughter once more, you know that tonight won't be nearly as so.

☁ And if absolutely nothing else, that was what made it all worth it.

AN: Guys, remember how I made that joke (It wasn't a joke) about hating that Rodger and taking it out on their Bobette? GUESS WHO'S NOW A MARKETABLE PLUSH >:) Huge huge huge shoutout to @belifbel

RAHH LOOK AT THEM

[whereubeenloca]

Leftovers

Part 4 of the Neighbor! Reader series! (1), (2), (3), (4), ...

Summary: Carmy brings you leftover menu items as a thank you.

Tags: VERY slow burn, Awkward flirting

Word Count: 1069

a/n- thank you all for the support! I'm happy yall are digging my silly little stories :)

You realize you don’t know a lot about your upstairs neighbor. 

Well, you know his name - Carmen, but it’s not like you talk. You know he works late and wakes up early, you know he smokes based on the collection of cigarette butts that suddenly appeared on your shared stoop after he moved in. Other than that? Nothing, nada, zilch. 

This is to say, you were incredibly surprised when you saw his name pop up on your phone. 

“You around?”

Yeah, you had his number, but save for the initial “hi” text the thread had remained silent. It’s almost embarrassing how quick you are to type back. 

“Yeah, why?” 

He doesn’t respond but you hear him moving around upstairs. Heavy footsteps move from one corner of the ceiling to the other, followed by the slam of a door. Before you know it, he’s knocking at your door. You’re quick to open it, shooting him a confused look. He stares back, arms full of small deli containers.

“Hi.” He says curtly, shifting the containers in his arms. “You uh- eat meat?”

You must have made some kind of face at him, because he looks down at the containers and back to you. 

“So, no…?” He asks tentatively, you finally snap out of it. 

Your face flushes hot with embarrassment, “No- well- yes. I eat meat.” You say simply, looking him over again. “But… what?” You ask, gesturing to the containers vaguely. 

Suddenly he’s aware of how odd this looks. His cheeks go red as he clears his throat. 

“I own a restaurant.” He says a little too fast, as if his statement explains anything. 

You must still look confused because he tries again. 

“Was trying out some new stuff for the menu. Uh… lots of leftovers.” He clears his throat as he shifts his weight. “As a thank you for the door thing.” He explains. 

You nod at that, he blinks back. 

“So… can I…?” He asks, readjusting the containers in his arms. 

“Oh- yeah of course. Please.” You stutter, scrambling to the side to let him in. 

“Sorry, it’s a mess.” You huff, picking up things as you move through your living area. “Kitchen’s over there.” You say, pointing to your left. 

“Cleaner than mine.” He responds, eyes scanning your apartment before he turns into your kitchen. 

Kitchen was a strong word for it. Along the far wall sits a row of sad looking cabinets, a fridge and a stove. Carmy’s shoes squeak against the poorly installed linoleum floors as he gently dumps his containers onto the small table in the center of the room. You watch as he fusses over them, arranging them into a line. 

“What kind of restaurant do you have?” You ask, looking at the containers. You can’t really tell what any of this stuff actually is. Each container is adorned with its own set of green labels, one with a date the other with its name. 

“It's a fine-dining, chaos menu, full service experience.” He rattles off before meeting your confused gaze. 

He clears his throat “Uh… a little bit of everything.” He corrects. 

You lean your palms into the table to inspect the food further. You gesture to the array of tupperware between the two of you, circling your palm around the three deli containers. “What’d you bring?” 

He points to the smallest container. “Mango chutney, pureed.” He says as he picks up another container and places it on top, tapping his finger on the lid. “Goes with the cod. And uh…bucatini in a bolognese sauce. There’s pork and cherry in it. Still working on that one.” He explains, poking the lid at the end of his sentence. 

“Sounds really good actually.” You hum in response, shifting your weight with a smile. “You didn’t have to do all this though, Carmen.”

“Carmy.” He quickly corrects. 

You furrow your brows. “You said your name was Carmen.” You say, confused. “Right? Have I been calling you the wrong name this whole time?” 

“No- no.” He interjects. “I just prefer Carmy. My uh. My friends call me that.” He clears his throat, drumming his fingers on the edge of the table. Carmy’s cheeks go pink as he quickly busies himself with a scratch on the surface, dragging the nail of his thumb into it over and over.

You feel your cheeks flush a bit at the word friend. When did that happen? “Well. Thanks, Carmy.” You say softly, testing the nickname. 

His eyes flick to yours again, a boyish smile on his face. “Yeah, f’course. I mean, if anything you’re doing me a favor.” 

“Yeah?” You laugh in response. 

“Oh yeah.” Carmy laughs back, straightening out his shoulders. “I’ve got all kinds of stuff up there, there’s no way I can go through it all.” 

“Well I’m glad I could help.” You smile back.”I’m excited to try it later.” 

He hums softly as the conversation peters out. The two of you stand there for a second, side by side soaking in one another. You can feel him standing next to you and suddenly you become more aware of your own body. Do you always stand like this? Are you slouching right now? Was he standing this close the whole time? Your mind buzzes with self-awareness you haven’t felt since middle school. You don’t really want him to leave but you can’t think of anything else to say. Before you can do anything, he drums his palms against the edge of the table before pushing off of it. 

“I should get going.” He says softly. 

“Oh- yeah of course.” You nod in response, “Thanks again for the food.” You smile as you walk him to the door. 

“Let me know what you think, yeah? Don’t hold back.” He says as he crosses the threshold into the hallway, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants as he faces you. 

“I’ll be thorough.” You joke. He laughs and you bite back a grin. 

Again you swear he’s lingering. He shifts his weight back onto his heels as his eyes stay on you. 

“See you around?” You ask, an attempt at a goodbye. 

“Yeah.” He looks at his shoes before taking a full step back. “See you.” Carmy raises his hand to you before disappearing up the stairs towards his apartment. 

You can’t help the smile that spreads across your face as you shut the door.

[odysseys-blood]

for context on my answers i'm nonbinary (and consider myself trans)

1) Black trans, intersex, nonbinary, etc people are stuck living trying to navigate at least two different sets of expectations around gender and gender expression at all times. Not only are we stuck being scrutinized for how well we fit into eurocentric beauty standards and gender roles despite not being our primary culture, we then STILL have to worry about how well we fit into and how we want to subvert gender and expression in Black communities. I think for the most part we try to work around gender expression in our own culture instead of what broader white society dictates so we're not gonna have the same feelings about smthn like. a celebrity or character that you think is "transition goals" and oftentimes those examples given are a direct opposite to how we already look. like my androgyny is nowhere near the same as a Black person as yours are.

2) kinda piggy backing off the previous one: i don't ever really fit what a general "nonbinary" character looks or feels like in media and in fact its an odd thing to navigate while Black. Most the examples I do see on nonbinary culture is very white and even being in Black LGBT spaces sometimes it feels like there arent many of us (In the whole like 100+ people GSA on my campus i believe i was the only person who was nonbinary but that school was also in the boonies lmao). I think in general all nonbinary people tend to express ourselves differently with a general aim towards androgyny, but at least theres more examples with white or nonblack characters because i can only think of...1. And that one was retroactively revoked by the creators so not even a 1 😭

3) I don't even hold out much hope anymore for one brsides other people's ocs but i'd love to see ANY kind of Black nonbinary character in a main role. idc what they're doing. just any one. because like i said the one I had known of was changed and im still bitter about it.

I am reaching out to Black trans, intersex, and people with a societally-deemed "unconventional" relationship to gender!

I am currently working on a future lesson involving gender and sexuality. But for certain things, I am not comfortable speaking for a community when I think it would be better to let them speak for themselves. I too am still learning (so I ask for grace).

What I want to do is either have a post to link to the lesson with your opinions in the tags/notes, and a summarized section of bullet points to show the range of perspectives on what I'm about to ask you. You don't have to answer all of them (or any if you don't want, it's volunteering). You can even send asks that if you don't want to be published, I will not publish. Succinctness will help me read everyone's responses, I will admit 😅

My questions:

1. What's ONE thing you wish nonblack people would understand the most about your experience?

2. How do you think you see or experience the world and media in comparison to white or nonblack people with a shared gender identity?

3. What's a story you'd like to see of yourself in media? Are there current examples?

[loafysainz]

the parent trap (remake) | CS 55

cast: carlos sainz x fem!reader

warn: 100% fiction & remake

chap 1, chap 2, chap 3, chap 4, chap 5, chap 6, chap 7, chap 8

PART 7 A DAY WITH MOM

The phone rang sharply, breaking the calm. Y/N sighed dramatically, brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “Oh, for goodness’ sake, who could it be now? I told everyone not to bother me today,” she muttered, heading toward the ringing phone.

Matheo, perched on the edge of the sofa, watched her walk away before letting his curiosity take over. He wandered around the living room, his eyes lighting up at every detail. The walls were lined with photographs of dazzling events, one from the Paris Fashion Week, another from a glamorous runway show. Next to those were sketches pinned carefully, showcasing elegant dresses, bold hats, and intricate designs.

On a small side table, Matheo found a delicate glass figurine. He picked it up gingerly, tilting it in the sunlight and grinning as the light broke into tiny rainbows.

“Mattia, sweetheart,” his mom called from across the room, holding the phone in one hand. She looked amused. “Would you mind coming with me to the workshop? Apparently, there’s a little fashion emergency.” Mattia couldn't have been happier.

****

Y/N, his mother, was so funny and sweet. How could he not have had the chance to be with her? They passed by a very beautiful shop and the first thing Matheo saw in the window was a beautiful white dress full of shiny rhinestones and white gold details. When he looked up from the window he was surprised by the illuminated sign that adorned the wall “Y/N Y/LN”

Matheo tugged on his Mom’s sleeve, unable to contain his excitement. “Did you design that, Mom?”

Y/N turned, her usual amused smile spreading across his face. “Well, I had to do something while you were away at camp, baby.” she winked, making it sound like crafting the gown was as casual as making toast.

“You’re incredible, you know that?” Matheo said, Y/N laughed softly “Thanks, little man. But tell me, did you try designing anything while you were at camp?”

“I wanted to,” Matheo admitted, “but there was just so much going on. I barely had time to think!”

Y/N nodded, understanding as always. “Ah, at your age, I was the same. Always running around.”

Matheo smiled at his mother's understanding. His mother pulled him to go inside the boutique, but Matheo resisted her hand, smiling mischievously at his reflection in the mirror. His mother, who stood close by with her arms crossed and eyebrows raised, couldn't help but giggle at his act. “You know who would look really beautiful in this dress?” he said, tilting her head dramatically.

“Who?” Y/N asked, playing along, even though she already knew where this was going.

“You,” Matheo said with a victorious smile, turning to face her. “Me?” Y/N asked, pretending to be surprised.

“Yup! Really, really beautiful,” he said, his big brown eyes twinkling with sincerity.

Y/N shook her head, laughing softly. “I guess the time change has left you a little loopy.”

Matheo just shrugged, still clutching the dress. “Maybe. But I'm still right.”

****

The workshop was alive with movement, fabric swatches, and the hum of sewing machines. Models strutted back and forth in stunning outfits, while designers fussed over last-minute details.

Y/N immediately took charge, shrugging off his jacket with flair. “Alright, what’s going on here? Interrupting my time with my baby better be worth it!”

A woman with sleek brown hair appeared, flanked by two models. Her eyes sparkled when she spotted me. “Mattia! Look at you so grown up and handsome. Where did you get all this charm?”

Y/N rolled his eyes. “You can look at me, Kimi.”

Matheo couldn’t help but smile sheepishly. The energy in the room was infectious. Matheo watched his Mom gave directions, adjusting veils, critiquing hems, and encouraging her team. “Remember,” she said, her voice commanding yet warm, “every piece is a work of art. Tonight isn’t just about my designs, it’s about ours.”

As Matheo stood there, taking it all in, he realized something. Y/N wasn’t just a fashion designer, she was a storyteller, crafting magic with every thread.

“Mom, you’re amazing,” Matheo blurted out, his cheeks heating up when he realized he said it out loud.

Y/N turned to her son, her eyes softening. “It’s in your blood, baby.”

*****

As they walked through the shopping center, Mom ordered some tea for the road. Matheo knew this was his moment. “Hey, Mom, can I ask you something?”

“Of course, Mattia. What’s on your mind?”

Matheo took a deep breath. “Did you ever want to get married again?”

Y/N nearly choked on her tea, her eyes wide with surprise. “What kind of question is that, Mattia?”

“I’m just curious,” Matheo said, trying to sound casual. “You never really talk about it or about the D word.”

Y/N smile faltered slightly as she set her tea down. “The D-word?” she echoed. “Baby, what on earth do you mean?”

“You know,” Matheo said, his voice dropping to a dramatic whisper. “Dad.”

For a brief second, Y/N was caught off guard and nearly laughed. “Oh,” she said, composing herself. “That D-word.”

“Yes!” Matheo straightened, crossing his arms like a pint-sized detective. “Why don’t we ever talk about him? Was he a bad person or something”

She exhaled softly, her gaze drifting toward the horizon. “No, not a bad person. Let’s just say… he was complicated.”

Matheo tilted his head, his curiosity growing. “Complicated? Like a crossword puzzle? Did you like him at least?”

A faint smile tugged at Y/N lips as she looked back at her son. “Oh, I liked him very much. When I first met him, he was the most charming man I’d ever seen.”

His eyes widened with excitement. “Really? Where did you meet him?”

Y/N chuckled. “As a matter of fact, yes. It was on a cruise, years ago. Your grandpa had just surprised me with tickets to celebrate my graduation. The route was from London to Spain. And there he was… a handsome Spaniard with a smile that could light up the ocean.”

“Wow,” Matheo whispered, enchanted by the story. “Was it love at first sight?”

Y/N laughed, ruffling Matheo hair. “You’re as nosy as I was at your age. Come on, let’s head home. I think Grandpa’s waiting for us.”

As they walked back, Matheo heart swelled with excitement. Matheo think he was probably working on his plan. And if everything went right, he’d finally bring their family back together.

[k0nanharv3y]

Am I giving Tim too much power and making him almost untouchable with many plot holes, and in fact, nothing you read will make sense? Yes, I am doing that, is there a problem?

Tim Drake Saved Gotham from Batman. Yeah, but lets say that he didn't do it becoming Robin

He Saved Gotham by becoming the focus of attention and method of anger release for Batman

///

And then there was a new rogue in Gotham. Batman didn't know who they were, what did they wanted, and why they seemed to be targeting only him. Inside and outside the mask, as Bruce Wayne and as the Dark Knight

He didn't have time for this, when he had them, when he found out who they were, he would destroy them, if necessary he would burn the world down, because his world burned with his son in that warehouse. Whoever the guy behind the attacks was, he would know the full wrath of the Dark Knight

But Tim was already hiding well from Batman right under his nose, Tim grew up following, watching and absorbing everything from the adults around him. But most of all he learned not to make mistakes. Tim would use the mistakes of the Joker, of Riddle, of each and every one of Gotham's rogues and learn not to leave clues, not to get caught, to hide right next to Batman, because it's a popular lie, Batman doesn't have eyes in the back of his head. The extra eyes he had died in Ethiopia

Tim had resources, time and only 12 years old, he was still moldable, he could fill any mold to perfection, so he forced himself to fit the mold of the rogue that Gotham would love. Because Tim wouldn't go for the city, he loved Gotham too much to destroy it trying to save a man who seemed to be digging his own grave, one in which he was dragging the city with him. Tim strategically targeted Bruce Wayne and Batman so that the man would get a slap in the face for his behavior. And if a building exploded, Tim would make sure that the people who worked or lived there would have good insurance and new jobs and compensation from Wayne Enterprises.

And Batman turned against the rogue who forced him to bury his own pain with his son and went to fight this guy who seemed to be virtually and physically everywhere. Batman knew the guy knew his identity, because the attacks were personal, lethal in any case, he was playing with him, mocking him. Until he seemed to stop

One day a letter on his door telling Batman how sorry he was and that "I had done what had to be done" and "I'm sorry for your loss, Mr. Wayne, but you were destroying the city with you" was all he got before the depressing silence of a quiet city -No, not a city, of Quiet Gotham-

The world kept turning and both lives continued

One next to the other

///

Steph became Robin long before because Batman was trying to open his heart to another child, Cassandra arrived just as she was supposed to, Steph never died because Batman was there and Dick made peace with the brother he could never love and loved his sisters and when Jason came back to life there was no vengeance in his blood because Batman never replaced him 10 minutes after Jason died. Yes, he was angry at the Joker and Batman's inability to kill him, but someone else did and Jason will embrace whoever did it. And when Damian got home everything was fine and he didn't steal the mantle from anyone because Steph was eager to give it to someone else and get Batman off her ass.

And Tim's life was lonely. His parents never stopped being absent, and the plane crash still happened because that wasn't because he was Robin, but because he was simply a living being. (Yes, I'm changing things up here) Janet was left in a coma and Jack died and in the end he was just a kid in a mansion that was too big, but so afraid of depending on someone (the last time he saw someone depending on someone else he had to blow up several buildings and cyberbully them to calm them down) who took the reins of Drake Industries and invented an uncle just to not be put in the system and still be off the bats' radar

And then Batman died

///

Hey you!, Yeah you!, Imagine that in the middle of the Bats' life, every time someone (a rogue) attacked Gotham, Tim would appear out of nowhere and digitally betray them to the Bats, and if Oracle isn't mentioned here, it's because you and I know that she would dismantle Tim from day one, so shut up, she's busy with her Birds of Prey or something, I DON'T KNOW, I'VE BEEN AWAKE FOR 26 HOURS

Part 2 of this bullshit

Part 3 cuz somehow I manage to make another one of these