#yandere secretary

[suiana]

I'm thinking about a yandere! secretary who's an absolutely manipulative piece of shit❤️

you hired him because his resume was impeccable and you thought he'd be a perfect fit for the empty position.

which... he is.

but the fact that he's younger than you by a decent amount and can be quite unprofessional at times does throw you off. is it something younger people like doing? is it normal to visit your employee's house with no one else around?

"hey boss, I'm thinking of inviting you over to my place tonight? just the two of us? we can drink and eat fried chicken together❤️"

"my dear, that is rather unprofessional don't you think?"

"what? no of course not. you're thinking into it too much."

it doesn't help that you're sort of a people pleaser and give into his demands easily.

you just want to see all your employees be happy! is that so wrong of you? of course not! and all your other employees (excluding your secretary) all appreciate and treat you with respect. and as you know by now, your secretary is an asshole who makes use of your easily swayed personality to get you to do... things in his favour.

but you don't know that! you just think it's because of the age gap that causes you not to understand his actions and words! surely he's not trying to love you right?

"boss~ don't you think i should meet your family? your parents? you met mine the other day didn't you? oh my parents absolutely loved you! they thought you were so sweet and-"

"w-well... that's only because you got a raise and you suggested i should inform your family about how well you were performing during work... there's no reason for you to meet my-"

"boss, be serious. do you hate me?"

"no of course not! i-"

"that's settled then! we can go and meet your family after this!"

"...yes, my dear."

with that said, he's also an excellent actor and knows how to play things to his advantage. by the time you realize what's going on, you'll already be trapped in the palm of his hand.

"my dear... i am so sorry. we shouldn't have slept together, nor gotten together. it was a severe lapse in judgement and I'm sorry that i crossed the line between personal and professionalism."

"what are you talking about darling? don't worry your silly head over all that. professionalism? who needs that? all the other employees think we look great together, and your family loves me! plus, I'm your boyfriend that you love, yes?"

"i-"

"now stop speaking about stupid things. you don't have to worry about that anymore. just listen to me. it's normal to date your secretary. it's what the younger people are doing nowadays! I'm already 26! so don't worry..."

and it's not like you can just fire him either. like i said, he does an excellent job at being your secretary. also the fact that he practically controls HR and influences them into thinking every other potential employee is subpar. so when you hold a meeting about whether to fire him everyone protests against it. but that's not important.

besides, he won't let you do that. why would you want to get rid of him? you only need him don't you? he's perfect for this job! you don't need another secretary. you don't need anyone else.

just him. only him.

and you two will be happy together as long as you listen to his words and don't try getting rid of him. after all, you might be older but times are changing! you need the hand of a younger and more knowledgeable person. he'll help you bring the company to greater heights and bring in more revenue for you!

so stop talking about how it's wrong. it's not. it's the way of the new generation! and he just.. loves you very much. way too much.

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

The Yandere Student Council 

You just needed to get your schedule officialized. Having gained special permissions to take a desired course you needed the student council’s collective stamps of approval to proceed. Normally all you would need to do was slip in the necessary documents. But something seems to keep happening to yours and it just works better for you to do it in person. Thus begins you’re journey of getting the obsessed student council’s approval.

The first one you go to is the one with the easiest access –the Secretary. Gill Hunter has an absolute poker face when his boyfriend isn’t around. So you’re pleasantly surprised when he’s actually willing to hear you out. Keeping his amber eyes on you he listens to your plea for his stamp, seemingly not reacting at all he promises to help you—for a price. You have to step in for him and his boyfriend from time to time. He says it's just a week as he demands you shadow him for the day. Calling to you in his monotone voice to join him in the student council lounge. Don’t bother bringing up you’re friends or your desire to eat your lunch alone. Even as the week comes to an end and you get your stamp he has you working closely with both him and his boyfriend very closely as an honorary assistant.

“Most if not all schedules go through me, you don’t want your schedule being messed up again. Do you?”

The next one is Gill’s beloved–the Historian. June Frimroar is a different kind of person you need to get a stamp from. Where Gill strings you along with his stone-cold face and hardly hidden intentions, June will do the exact opposite. With a smile that flirts with scheming and altruism, he’ll ask for the most innocent kind of help. Only to somehow become something far more intimate and demanding of you in the first place. How else would simply taking notes during student council meetings lead to you smushed in a locker with the historian and his boyfriend? Or how you’ll be forced to help undress June whose hands inexplicably might be sprained? He’s an enigma to loosely associate with trouble, easily put off by how kind he is to you and your friends as you start spending more time with him and the rest of the student council. Certainly, those rumors of him crippling classmates for fun are far from true, right?

“Don’t you trust me, (Y/n)? Just listen to me and I’m sure everything will work out…even if that blackmail situation with your friend is completely separate.”

Like clockwork, you fall into being the student council’s lackey suddenly trusted with helping the seemingly overwhelmed Treasurer. Min Su is an odd fellow who’s been dignified a living legend with his accounting possibilities; rumored to casually be hired by the government a couple of times. So it's odd that he suddenly must have you spending your club hours documenting receipts. He’s so apologetic and jumpy that you don’t feel right questioning him. So it's normal that he has a fierce blush on his face as you take the records from his hand. Or the little noises of excitement pleasure he seems to have when you lean over him to admire his speed as he’s calculating the books. He’s likely to forget that you needed to get his stamp until you off-handedly mention how you’re going to miss him when you get that stamp.

“Oh, you wanted that? I-I’m happy to give it to you, n-no problem! But you’ll still visit me right?”

At this point, your presence is much more normalized in the student council quarters, and naturally, the Sergeant of Arms or more well known as the student council’s hype man is happy to welcome you. Popular beyond belief Roman Ferris arguably has the largest fan and friend base in the entire council. Knowing everything about everyone he already knows what you’re asking for and he’s cheekily telling you he’s already prepared how you’re going to get it. If you thought Gill was forward then you’d be mistaken Roman straight-up demands every weekend that you come with him on a date. Movies, restaurants, ice cream, trips to the park, he’s doing it all with you. Demanding you dress up for these ‘definitely not dates’, hold his hand while you walk, and smile at him only him when you pose for the camera. It's odd how he knows your every like and dislike, always ordering for you and smiling ominously when you ask. But he’s definitely not giving you this stamp if you suddenly stop coming to his dates hangouts, even if he promised he would. It’d be bad if the whole student body considered you a harlot for playing with the golden boy’s feelings. So just smile while you eat your favorites and keep your mouth sealed about your suspicions.

“Don’t worry about it babe, I already know just how you like it! Don’t worry how I know~ You’re so cute when you're well-fed!”

Practically cemented to your unwritten obligation the Vice President is well aware of what you’re after. Spencer Lyle will wait until the end of the day mindlessly stamping your document as he scrambles through his hefty pile of paperwork. Bags under his eyes and his lids dropping dangerously you figure you’ll help him, already familiar with the kind of work he was doing anyway. He thanks you when you eventually wake him up and from then on something sinister a friendship is born. Suddenly he’s coming up to you in your classes, during lunches keeping you talking casually as he leads you to the student council room. You were going there anyway, right? He’s just the perfect friend for you. Great at warding off bullying fans or teachers that get a little too snippy, he becomes your go-to friend. Not too popular but well-respected feared by the student body; totally perfect for relying on him to be relatable. Completely complacent with letting him into your life and it feels so normal now that he rings your dorm bell for an early morning. You know him so well so it's natural he does the same.

“Hey, you ready to go cupcake? Bags under my eyes? Yeah, I was up all night protecting you doing council stuff, you know how I work.”

Last but certainly not least the Student Council President: Lucoa Grander the college’s prodigy cryptid. Known to be a living genius and prominent underground business personality it seems only natural that he gets such a powerful, prestigious position. He is such a celebrity you go to Spencer to deliver your schedule confirmation only to receive a disappointing answer. Apparently, the president’s only willing to stamp yours personally, and thus your witchhunt for the illusive president begins. Searching high and low, stringing on his fan base’s own timeline and the other council members’ accounts you try to find him. But after a while, you give up fully prepared to abandon your desired course to have the blue-haired pierced-up president mysteriously showing up. He greets you so casually, sitting next to you as he asks mundane questions. When you finally ask for his stamp he gives it to you…on a major condition. 

“We’ve been looking to widen our ranks and I’ve we’ve been keeping a close eye on you. And we’re thinking of making you an honorary member–it's a new position to diversify our team. You’ll get your stamp this way and we get you our beloved a new member that’s fair enough isn’t it?”

[jifanjiang0710]

Closed Doors

yan secretary! zhongli x ceo! reader

Lantern Rite was fast approaching. From the glass windows that extended from the ledge at the bottom to the expanse of the ceiling, you could see that every corner and alley was alight with crimson silk and flowers, couplets and ribbons, lights flashing incessantly even in the mind’s eye. Your own office building had some, sporting of the festivities despite the heavy workload the staff have been burdened with recently.

A hand on your shoulder, a whisper of your name, by your ear.

“You have worked hard. Would you care to chat over dinner?”

“...I’m busy, tonight.”

Zhongli pulled back, gently, as if he had taken the rejection well. When has he ever, in this one-sided… situationship… thing?

“Then let me drive you home.”

“No, I’m fine.” You feel like throwing up, even though you had not eaten in many hours. The last time that occured…

No words. He is displeased, and it strikes a hot bolt of guilt through your veins. He did only mean the best for you, your trusted secretary.

“I mean, I wouldn’t want to trouble you.”

“I can assure you, my dear, it is no hassle at all. Do you not trust me to keep you safe, after all these years?”

You sigh. He speaks much like a doting grandfather. Your eyes trail to the two long red strips on the office door.

“ ‘Longevity like the highest West mountains, blossoming relationships akin to the depth of the Eastern sea.’ Isn’t the second part a bit out of place, Zhongli?”

The man in question leaned in, lowering his glasses and scrutinising the words on the couplet. “So it is.”

“Nothing more to say?” That was uncharacteristic of your secretary.

Zhongli coughed, as if to distract that. “I find the emphasis on interpersonal relations between persons agreeable. Is that not something you wish to have in your life, [Name]?”

“I… suppose?”

You knew he wrote it, and dare not remove it from the front doors of the company. You had to settle with unmatching couplets for the next month.

“Speaking of which, [Name]...” he said, tailing behind you at such a leisurely pace that you always had to stop several times for him to catch up. “The, ah, schedule for the company celebration on the second day of Lantern Rite has been updated. I have assigned your seating arrangement near-”

“Oh, right. I forgot to tell you. I won’t be around next month. I’m going back with my family to celebrate.”

…

“Zhongli?”

Why is he…disappointed? It is perfectly fine and common, for the overworked CEO to take time off to visit their loved ones for the holidays. Zhongli still feels an ache in his rustic heart as you said that.

You wouldn’t be spending Lantern Rite with him.

Last year, and the year before that, and the year before as well, you had; too busy slaving for the survival and growth of the company to take the journey home. He doesn’t know what to do with the chip at his feelings knowing you will not be around this year, even if it only consists of the two of you working late nights at the office, and him replacing your lukewarm cup of tea from time to time. By the time he replies you have arrived at your private office.

“... I see.”

After all he’s done for you, as well. Do you view him as nothing but a subordinate? 

Zhongli chided himself, shelving these thoughts for later. His younger self would succumb to petty, childish musings like these, and he would imagine he has matured.

He sees you falter, perhaps noticing the shift in mood. “Are you going anywhere for Lantern Rite?” you asked.

He smiles, not too broadly, making sure to keep his eyes still.

“Where has an old man like me to go, except for work?”

To the untrained eye, you seem unphased, but your secretary knows better. With a little observance, he can detect your uncomfortable twitches, fidgeting, wandering eyes. And, contrary to public belief, Zhongli can be very observant. How do you think he picks out the gem amongst stones? To him, you are that very diamond he so desires.

“Please, you are hardly half the age you act. You could… take a trip somewhere south, escape the cold…”

How intriguing. Before you can blink he towered over you, arm brushing against your shoulder. Zhongli looked you directly in the eyes, without a hint of warmth or the usual wise whimsy he conducts himself with.

“A most interesting suggestion. However I do not intend to go holidaying off by myself.”

You had no response to that, still recovering from the apparent change in attitude of your secretary.

“Not to mention, I would… how do I phrase this… find myself missing you terribly.”

For a moment, you think you see the amber in his eyes morph into a disgusting, bloody red. It could easily be passed off as reflection from the hanging lanterns.

He continues, when you don’t speak. “So, when you return to your, ah, loved ones, partake in the wonders of tradition and communal gathering… please think of me as well.”

A sweet statement turned sinister. Was this how he had gotten you to stay for the past year, and all the Lantern Rite’s before that?

Come to think of it, you don’t know why you were so busy back then either.

“After all, [Name]...”

He would do anything to keep you here, under his watchful eye and within his clutches.

“What is a poor old man to do, without you?”

He tried to play it off as a joke, a light-hearted statement made meant for mild amusement. You seemed to take it well, offering a hesitant chuckle. If you find this off-putting, he would hate for you to discover what he did to earn his position as your secretary. When he was young it would have been much more… how to put it? Physically forceful. 

The bloodlust from them has since faded. How would you feel seeing him slathered in crimson? Cringe in fear and revulsion, or praise him for his devotion?

He finds violence by his own hands unnecessary, now. He can do just as much and more with the influence he currently wields.

The manager who tried to seduce you, the owner of a rival company’s snark comments, all the scathing words of Internet users who think it so clever to be cruel to you behind a screen… one way or another, he has taken care of them as a good secretary would.

All that has paid off. Now he is your most trusted staff, the one who understood every quirk and minute action. No one had been through every high and low, seen you inside and out like he has.

He caresses you so gently, as if you were the most delicate petal or the most fragile diamond. As if all this was right and normal, for a secretary to do.

Who would suspect Zhongli the gentleman, collected, distinguished and composed of such depravity?

“Good morning, dear. Happy Lantern Rite.”

You trusted him, wholeheartedly.

But when you eventually wake up in his arms, in his bed, to the sound of firecrackers and joyful festive cheers, even after he promised the last time that it was a one-time mistake and would not happen again, you’re not quite sure you do, anymore.

[heartfullofleeches]

"Say, Y/n. Who are your new friends?"

Secretary Darling, sandwiched between two massive demons in human form: O-oh, y'know....Just some pals I made at work.

-

Secretary Darling: Did my skirt shrink in the wash? Why's this damn thing so tight- Ah!-

[Darling yelps as a tear splinters down the backside of his skirt. A snake demon nearby spits out water - spraying another coworker in the eye with their venomous spit.]

-

Succubus #1: Oh, darling, you simply must allow me to do your nails. You have such gorgeous hands.

Succubus #2: May I style your hair?

Succubus #3: Can I kiss you on the lips?... I mean- Do your makeup?

-

Secretary Darling: My feet are killing me.....Hm?

[Darling looks beneath their desk to find their hound demon coworker cramming themselves in the small space, supporting darling's legs on their back. Darling pets the demon as their tail wags]

-

Boss: Your insolence will not be tolerating in this business. If I were a lesser demon I'd have your head. You miserable, pathetic, idiotic excuse for a-

[*Knock* *Knock*]

Secretary Darling: Boss? A new donut shop just opened up near my place and I was wondering if you'd like to try one. My apologies if you're busy- You told me I could visit you at any time so-

Boss, chucking the imp out the window: Perfect timing! I was about ready to die again of boredom! Don't be shy now, come on in!

[komelliko]

manipulative!boss!sunday x timid!secretary!reader

summary: Sunday wants to invite you to dinner. ...Correction: Sunday will invite you to dinner. Even if there are a few loopholes to get through first.

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 (nsfw) / part 4

---

Sunday finds it quite unfortunate that the salvation of the world must sometimes be assured through cruelty. It wounds him when he must be cutthroat, must be stern in his ways, but he does it all the same. Even the gravest of sins shall be absolved in the eternity of the dream he chases, and Sunday knows no man to enact this sin besides himself.

...In short, manipulation is no stranger to the head of the Oak Family.

You're nearly tripping on your heels again when your boss runs into you, lighting up at your presence in a way you have to decidedly ignore. It's unprofessional to dwell on it—You hate even the notion of being unprofessional. After all you've worked towards, every hour you've busted your ass off to get to work as secretary for one of the most important people in Penacony, the thought of ruining it by being unprofessional makes you want to fill a bathtub with SoulGlad and let yourself drown in it.

"Good morning, Mr. Oak," you greet him, once he's within speaking range. There's a million papers and manila folders in your arms, all cobbled together with clips and staples, and you hold them at your chest almost like a sort of shield. Hours upon hours of your work rests within this stack of papers, thousands of words worth of reports and number-crunching and printed out messages between Family Heads. Sunday makes a point to look you right in the eye, and it's a gaze you swear you'll never get used to.

You don't know what the look in his eyes mean—Sunday takes great pleasure in keeping the meaning from you.

There's a plenty good amount of things he prefers to keep to himself (as is only proper for someone of his responsibility), and the images his mind likes to conjure only flip past like cards in a rolodex as he sneaks a glance at the body hiding behind the papers. He smiles, but not any bigger than he would smile to anyone else. Not yet.

"Good morning, [Y/N]," Sunday coos. "Working out of the office as usual, I see? Please, if there's any reason for you to avoid it I must know."

Flush with embarrassment, you shake your head. It's just easier to make sure everything gets done when you're always walking, you find. You hate being kept places, being forced to sit and hear the second-hand of a clock constantly chatter behind your back. When you're walking, your heels set the pace instead, at whatever you need it to be. You're only indebted to your own ethic, which you hold in high regard.

"Oh, the office is perfectly fine, Mr. Oak," you stammer out, fingers drumming on the stack of papers. "I just like the stained glass on some of the third floor hallways of Dewlight. The, uh— The fountains add a nice atmosphere, too." You panic, adding "It's a really wonderful building, sir. I'm honored to work here."

Sunday nods. He'll have to order for new windows and a fountain to be put in his office the second the moment arrives. A meeting with Whittaker Nightingale was in order, clearly—He'd understand the situation.

"Please, dear, if anyone here should be honoured it's me," Sunday smiles. He passes to stand beside you rather than in front of, catching a glimpse of the way your hair falls over your shoulders. "Can I discuss something with you for a moment, if you'll allow?"

Sunday takes the initiative to place one hand on the small of your back, the other clasped behind his own. The touch makes you flinch—You grab tight onto your papers, hoping they won't spill out in a burst from the way you nearly jumped in place. "Gosh, Mr. Oak, I don't really think this is necessary—" On the outside, his face is stern, perhaps even disappointed with your tendencies to act like a stickler. Internally, he's more concerned with how often you spurn his affections: At his core, however? He wants to hold his hand against you until he dies.

"Please," he whispers, almost commanding you. "Walk with me." Sunlight streams in through the windows of the Dewlight Pavilion, pockets of gold dancing on the marble floors.

"You've gotten in touch with the Alfalfa family, as I requested?"

Panicking, you leaf through the papers you had kept clutched to your chest to search for any notes or documents relating to that. Unfortunately, your anxieties are valid: You did not. Sunday doesn't let on that he's lying to you. He asked you to reach out to some bureaucrat working for SoulGlad, but nothing to do with Oti or any of the Alfafas. But you're forgetful, and he loves that about you. Not as much as he values your eagerness to please, though.

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Oak. It must've slipped my mind." You spent the whole day organizing the catering for the Charmony Festival, and your papers corroborate this.

"Please, I could never fault you," he smiles. "It'll be taken care of tomorrow."

Sunday bites his lip as he feels the back of your shirt brush against his hand. If he was any less of a man with any less of a reputation to uphold, he'd have it comfortably in the back pocket of your pants. He goes on, to get to the real purpose of this informal meeting with you.

"Would you be interested in discussing things over dinner?"

Your breath stalls for a moment.

"I— I'm sure sending today's report electronically should be just fine, sir."

Sir. It's a word he's been addressed by many lips, but every utterance pales in comparison to this singular moment.

"It would be my pleasure."

"I'm not sure I even have anything that would suit the occasion," you confess.

"I can arrange for something to be sent to you."

A particular nausea pools in your gut: a feeling so light, so painlessly ignorable that even worrying that it's gas feels like an overreaction. Meetings over dinner are professional, and at a rank like Sunday's, it's entirely reasonable that you conform to a certain dress code—one that he knows much better than you, no doubt. Sending something for you to wear would only be logical if it meant preserving that image of his.

(And he had been peculiar about dress in the past: No heels could be too tall or too short, pants were preferred but knee-length skirts were permissible, Oak insignia patches visible on every blazer, such and the like. Surely, this was nothing new.)

"If you find that to be within your purview, Mr. Oak," is what you manage to respond with. "...I'll make myself presentable."

"Don't fret too much over it, [Y/N]," Sunday smiles. "I fully trust in your abilities to uphold our reputations." 'Our'.

You force yourself to not dwell on it.

---

A/N: If anyone has feedback, please share it with me!! Obviously some artistic license has to be made for the premise to work but hopefully it's nothing too egregious :,)

[untoldstar]

male yandere king x fem! witch reader x male yandere personal secretary Introductory fic

warnings: no yandere shenanigans here so no warnings really BUT this is an introductory fic the yandere themes will appear in later parts.

You’re roughly shoved forward by the two guards that chained you and dragged you all the way here in front of The Kings throne.

King Reid.

“This is her?” You keep your eyes averted refusing to look at him in fear you might not hold back your glare and have your eyes gouged out for that. You’ve heard bone chilling stories of how ruthless he can be and you aren’t about to test the truth behind those stories yourself “Yes sir.” A gruff voice sounds beside you “And you’re completely sure it’s her?” He asks his tone pressing “Positively.” You look up to see that he’s already staring at you intensely, his body stiff with anticipation "Hm..,very well then." The corner of his mouth lifts slightly and a glint appears in his eyes. He nods his head to your wrists and in the blink of an eye, the rope is cut off your wrists. You groan as you rub your red wrists, at least he didn't keep you tied up. He suddenly turns his head to the guards "Everyone out at once!" The guards hurry to sweep the room of everyone and follow suit shutting the door after them, as the echo of the large wooden door slowly dissipates it dawns on you that you're completely alone now. At his mercy.

He doesn't say anything only rises from his chair and makes his way to a nearby table pouring a drink which you assume is wine based off the crimson color you caught a glimpse of "Care to join me?" You only shake your head when he glances at you "Suit yourself." He grins. Just what is he doing? You've been dragged here like some sack of potatoes, wrists bound, questions ignored, not an explanation spared and yet he's leisurely enjoying a glass of wine?

"I've heard much about you." He plops down on his seat with a sigh. You stay quite simply watching his movements "The infamous witch.." He swirls the liquid in his cups as he stares at you almost spacing out. You quirk a brow. Infamous? Since when? "You might not realize it but you've caused quite the stir." He hums raising the glass to his lips " I hear people have been desperately crawling to your doorstep to give them a glimpse of the future that awaits them, pleas to make them rich overnight, many people willing to pay you a fortune just so their unrequited love can be returned. What is it that you do, potions?" You internally roll your eyes, of course he'd assume that "Spells." You answer keeping your voice even "Ah of course, my apologies, that was quite the childish assumption." Your tense shoulders relax a little you see he wasn't mocking. He's actually embarrassed if his averted gaze is anything to go by "That's alright..it's a common misconception." You try to comfort "Is it really?" You nod "You'd be surprised to know some of the people who come to me also think that." He hums "Is that so? very well then." He seems pleased to see you talking more and letting your guard down even if only a little "Well anyhow, I'm sure you're wondering why you're here" He sets his glass aside and shifts in his seat "I've been..watching you and I think you could be of great help to me and my kingdom." You cross your arms "What would a king want with a witch?" He leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees and his hands clasped infront of him "I do admit it's not..usual for a king to seek out a witch but that's precisely why I'm doing this. I believe that with you're help this kingdom can flourish" His eyes gleam and you understand why. You can already think of many ways that could be accomplished but what exactly are his plans? "How exactly would that be achieved?" He seems relieved you're not immediately against the idea "Well, in so many ways of course. You would provide me a level of protection my own guards can't give me, you can help me persuade allies, keep away enemies and false allies who seek the fall of my kingdom." You're face shows no emotions as he rambles on passionately, his ideas aren't bad but you don't want to stroke a kings already inflated ego "We can do so much together.." He suddenly rises up and walks towards you "Don't you think so?" He whispers, his body so close to you, eyes pleading and you're almost in disbelief at how a king is the one persuading you and looking at you with such pleading eyes. "Yes that could all work..But why would I do this? Forgive me your majesty but..what exactly are you offering me?" He smirks, thankfully not seeming to be offended by your question. His prideful demeanor returning once again "Why, everything, my dear. You will live here with me in the castle, your room will be right by my quarters, anything you ask shall be granted, I'll personally make sure of it. It will be a completely new way of living. All will be yours as long as you say yes." You don't give an answer. Nothing is stopping you, you live alone, up till now work has been your focus and this..is work. But is he truly to be trusted?

"..I-" You flinch when he suddenly places his hands on your shoulders rubbing them, he must have sensed your tension "Why don't you take a tour of the castle and think very carefully of my offer? perhaps that could help you arrive to a judgment" Your stomach clenches when his eyes darken and his tone turns warning "You'll find that taking me up on my very generous offer will turn out to be in your favor." Something is defiantly wrong with him but perhaps it's best to be polite and go along with the tour for now at least. You slowly nod "Alright.." He beams "Excellent!" He turns around and rings a bell that's by his throne and Immediately you hear the large wooden doors behind you open. You look behind you to see a man enter, the distance between you doesn't allow you to discern his features fully or any other details except for his raven colored hair and the fact that he's close to your age if not the same if his voice and build is any indication. He bows his head "You called me, your majesty." You feel Reid place his hand on your lower back "Yes." He turns to you smiling "That's Marcus, he's my personal secretary, he'll be the one to accompany you on the tour." You knit your brows "It won't be you?" He lets out a low chuckle "No, my dear, I'm afraid I have a few pressing matter I must take care of but I'm quite flattered you were hoping to spend more time in my company." He ends in a teasing tone. Ugh, anything you say will be taken as flattery with him won't it?"

"Alright enough of that now, Marcus can take it from here. I shall see you after the tour." He nods at you, his smile a little strained now, he truly does hope you will come to the decision of staying afterwards. It would really be disappointing if you don't, your room is ready and your closet is filled with clothes designed specifically for you, he doesn't want his preparations to go to waste.

He also doesn't want to take certain measures into making you stay.

part 2

[wri0thesley]

(cw: yandere)

one of jing yuan's greatest qualities is his patience.

the title of general is, perhaps, one that brings to mind war-torn battles and a mantra of 'living whilst one can'. but though many jing yuan has known in his life no longer exist on any mortal plane, jing yuan himself remains stalwart in the face of the ticking clock. he lets people think of him as lazy; lets them think that he has softened with age, become too peaceful and too comfortable.

that is not true. he thinks. he plans.

and for the past who-knows-how-long, his plans and his thoughts have revolved around you. a distraction from the mundanity of his duties; somebody to think about, to dwell on, to imagine on long lonely nights--

with you, patience will pay off. you, too, have written him off - he is always kind to you, always has time for a smile and a quiet word or two though you think yourself beneath his notice. he has worked slowly out of you tidbits of your life - a bird lured forth by breadcrumbs. through half-lidded eyes and a quiet smile, he has taken in every item of clothing you wear to work and how it unfastens. that your eyes are ringed with dark shadows on tuesdays - monday is the publication day of your favourite periodical, and you stay up late to read it. you always stare longingly at mimi as if you want to pet it (there is a keychain dangling off your work bag in the shape of a simple cat; you have a weakness for soft, cute things. jing yuan thinks you rather soft and cute yourself). the route you take, to get to

things he can use. a starskiff accident on your way home, meaning you must stay at work overnight (he is only too quick to offer his office - the dozing general with a huge leonine pet has many places to rest, after all). when you wake in the early morning to see him crouched beside you, you take a great gasp in, eyes widening in surprise, and you lean away from his broad form.

"my apologies," he says, pulling back. "i quite forgot about you."

a careful lie, designed to put you at ease. this has proven to him - not quite yet. your piece on the chessboard is not ready for capture by his own at this precise moment in time.

that's alright.

he can wait.

[merakiui]

hear me out..

CEO Azul with Independent MC 🤭

He wants to spoil Mc but Mc already spoiling themself, which makes Azul irritated by that and become so pouty Mc won’t let him spoiling them

Mc staring at Azul pouting at them and thinking ‘did i do something wrong— why is he pouting like that..’

He would be so frustrated that he can’t find a weak point in your life to manipulate. You’re financially stable, you have an amiable reputation at his company, and you’re good at avoiding unsavory situations or unwanted harassments from clients or the twins. No matter how hard he tries, be it offering gifts or always doing what he can to make your life easier, you still refuse to let him spoil you. He wants to lavish you in everything you could ever want, but you work for the things you want instead, even though Azul doesn’t mind spending lots of money and time on you. And when he does offer you something he’s bought, you always politely decline. Azul is starting to lose hope. What must he do for you to let him spoil you?! He’s so desperate to know!

[bighitfics]

jungkook fics i can read all night all day seven days a week.

(a recommendation you didn’t know you needed) ₊⊹ ๋࣭ ⭑⚝

Vows Of Betrayal ౨ৎ by @tljunglebook

— contract marriage au, enemies to lovers, romance, smut, angst.

(I will never not scream about this! this is my current favourite read! the enemies to lovers really hits in this one! AND THE SMUT SCENES ARE SO GOOD THEY MADE ME PREGNANT SO I RECOMMEND!) 😩💳

Inevitable ౨ৎ by @ahundredtimesover

— exes to lovers, second chance, parents au, angst.

(this happens to be the cutest story I’ve ever read, the longing and angst is so good!) 🥺🫶🏼

Dextrocardia ౨ৎ by @jeonstudios

— enemies to lovers, fake marriage, cop au, angst.

(this story should be arrested for being so damn good! i love how intense the enemies phase is before they start softening towards each other, the way the author managed to portray the patriarchal issues through this story is incredible, i never thought i’d say this but im an anti of jungkook in this story 😤😡 he better apologise with crocodile tears otherwise he can say goodbye to y/n.

You’re Still Mine ౨ৎ by @wattpadauthour

— workaholic husband jungkook, marriage in trouble trope, second chance.

(THIS STORY IS GONNA BE MY FOREVER FAVOURITE FOR A LONG LONG TIME! NO MATTER HOW MANY STORIES I READ I WILL ALWAYS GO BACK TO RE-READ! LIKE READ IT RIGHTAWAY IF YOU HAVENT! 😤)

Four-Seven-Eight ౨ৎ by @jiminrings

— marriage in crisis, angst, more angst, fluff.

(the heartache you’re gonna feel while reading this is no joke, i really felt sad for the y/n here (and cried a river) AND I LOVE IT WHEN BOOKS MAKE ME CRY LIKE THE WORLD IS ENDING TOMMOROW 😻💋 you know its gonna be worth it)

Time After Time ౨ৎ by @hiseyestell

— doctor au, she fell first but he fell harder (but much later), fluff.

(by far the most realistic fanfic I’ve read, jungkook is so cold that you wanna smack him in his stupid head, the female oc is so smitten with him its adorable but sad at the same time) ☹️

His Clumsy Secretary ౨ৎ by @hwangguemfictions

— grumpy x sunshine, he fell first and harder, office romance, major angst.

(this fanfic is criminally good! especially the bgm, the dialogues, the way he’s just so endeared with her, this is a big smash!) 🤰🏻🫦

The Deepest Marks Of Essence ౨ৎ by @lleldey

— tribe leader jungkook, yandere au, smut, angst.

(my favourite writer for a reason! 🫴🏼 i can never stop obsessing over yer unique storylines and writing, she’s my new favourite tbh and this story will convince you as well) 🤭💕

Marrying The Vicount ౨ৎ by @taevjim

— rich man x poor girl, regency era au, smut, filthy fluff.

(my two worlds colliding fr! this author wrote it so beautifully 😍🤌🏻 jungkook as a vicount tho (im already crying between my legs) this is like a fever dream come true, this is so effing good that i think no words are fair enough, maybe you should take a look yourself! (i swear this is worth the read!!!!)

[yuutryingtowrite]

Yandere!Ceo who does not care about his employees

Yandere!Ceo who is strict and cold, anyone not keeping up will be cut off

Yandere!Ceo who brings you to the verge of insanity

Yandere!Ceo who finally makes you snap

Yandere!Ceo who has a chill running down his spine when you pin him against his office's floor

Yandere!Ceo who's pulse is going erratic against the tip of the pen you pressed against his neck

Yandere!Ceo who's face start feeling hot, who is completely captivated by you on top of him

Yandere!Ceo who grabs your wrist and makes you push the pen harder against his neck, a whimper threatening to come out

Yandere!Ceo who promotes you to be his personal secretary

Yandere!Ceo who can't get enough of being your puppy <3

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Trunk or Treat with The Yandere Student Council Pt. I

Based Off the OCs in this Post

“Alright everyone let’s start talking about ideas!” 

“Uhm do you mean ideas for what to do with Halloween coming?”

“Oh no darling, we always do a Trunk or Treat kind of thing.”

“We are talking about our costumes.”

As bizarre as it sounds the college’s students look forward to the costumes of the student council

Allowed to enjoy whatever festivity that comes with their choice

For reference they share that last year they had a ‘kiss–in–the–coffin’ booth for their shared vampire costumes

“J-j-just so you know the kisses were on the cheek only!”

“I didn’t ask but okay.”

It set the precedent for this year to be just amazing if not better

“Since we have you now (Y/n) we should have something special that welcomes you in!”

“I-i-i-i think that’s a great idea.”

“I’m all for it too!”

Despite your protests, in fear of being singled out by their fans your haters they forge on

“They won’t be bothering you. Not on my watch.”

“You say that but–”

“Seriously (Y/n) believe us! We’ll make sure there won’t be any problems.”

“And if there are we will kill them.”

“What?!”

“Joking. Joking.”

They’re not

Anyway it was decided on that the council will be Ghostly Royalty

Which makes costumes really easy or so you thought 

According to Min, quite a large part of the budget went into your costumes

“Pick your jaw up (Y/n)! This is the best part! You don’t think we get this big of a budget without showing off, do you?”

“Still…it feels a bit overkill…especially when I don’t have a fan base at all.”

“Ohhh that’s what you think–ow!” 

“Roman, always such an optimistic chatterbox. Always saying things that are not true.”

Lucoa takes the role of the king naturally

Spencer is forcefully given the role of the queen

Min takes the role of the dungeon master, despite his meek character

Roman takes the role of an advisor

Gil as a duke

June as a duchess

“Wait so what am I?”

“Our dragon.”

“What?!”

“We wanted to put a spin on the old system!”

“But that isn’t really accurate…nor does it really fit the ghost royalty theme.”

“.....”

“....”

“So? We’re doing fantasy ghosts then.”

In your opinion, it's just an excuse to make your costume as ridiculous as they please

“This is an early draft of your costume.”

“What!? Wait where are the actual clothes? I’m just seeing gold necklaces and bangles.”

“...That was the idea.”

“I’m not wearing that if there aren’t actual clothes underneath there.”

“...But it will ruin the integrity of the design and disrupt the choreography and–”

“Then hide it under the gold! I’m not going to be half-naked for the entire school.”

“...I will consult the President.”

You owed him a favor after that

Saying you agreed to this as an honorary member

But when you’re not having to fight Gill on your costume designs

You are helping the others

“June…this is just a dress.”

“Right, it’s a perfect occasion to wear it. And don’t my hips feel and look great.”

Adjusting the golden belt meant to hang off his waist you try to ignore how his poses requires that he touch you in some way shape or form

“Well yeah but don’t you feel like your fans would want you in something else?”

“Oh baby! You don’t have to worry, they love this sort of thing.”

And helping with their research

“Roman I know you never seem to run out of ideas to hang out but why a medieval diner?”

“It's for research! By the way, how do you like the food? I made sure the critiques were as positive as they could get.”

“Roman.”

“Yes?”

“Why did that waitress, compliment our relationship?”

“OMG they brought another plate of bread and for free? So cool.”

“Roman!”

Or helping organize their booths

“So Spencer what are you going for?”

“A kind of dunk tank except it drops on me.”

“Oh okay….this says that you’re not actually using water but…oil?”

“Yeah Lucoa suggested I show off my scars and muscles.”

“Wait you have those?”

“Hahaha very funny but seriously give me your opinion.”

“Oh wow….yeah, I think they’ll like it…no they’ll love it.”

“Oh really? Well, thanks!”

As if he didn’t already know

But eventually as the date comes closer it comes time to focus on your booth

But it seems that as an honorary member you don’t get to have much control over your own booth

Or any decision involving your event

“Hey Min what are you building over there?”

“Oh this is the art for your exhibit. Lucoa put me in charge of matching the gold from your costume to the setting around there.”

“Aw thanks can I help?”

“N-n-no!”

“Oh.”

“S-s-s-sorry the President gave us explicit instructions not to include you in the making of it. I’m r-r-r-r-really so sorry!”

“It’s fine Min, don’t worry about it.”

It’s just so apparent how little you would be included in your own activity no one really bothered to hide that fact from you

“Hey Gill this meeting on your calendar, I don’t remember getting your usual reminder for it.”

“That is because you are not invited to it.”

“Don’t be sad (Y/n)~Afterwards we can just come visit you after.”

“No no that’s okay I’ll just take the day off then. Catch up on homework.”

“Aw~ Don’t be like that we’ll come over to your house after.”

“No I’m not sad. I’m going to be happily doing my homework alone!”

“Putting that on our private calendar: Going to (Y/n)’s house an hour after the meeting.”

At the end of the day you’re just as surprised when the event begins and they shove you in the room under the stage with nothing but a warning not to move from the chair you’re in:

Part 2

[heartfullofleeches]

Male Secretary Darling is required by company policy to wear a sweater only when he has genuinely important business to go over with his demonic coworkers because otherwise they're too busy sharing at his tits to retain an information he gives-

"Forecast details a blood moon this evening. Its wise to expect a summoning from those cultist.... I have aspirin at my desk if you require it afterwards."

"Okay."

"There's also the matter of that young groom who wants out of his pact with you for he has fallen for his bride to be. He claims you may have his mistress as penance."

"Fascinating."

"A human soul has possessed one of our printers. Would you like me to-"

"Okay."

"....Sir? Not to be offend you or anything, but you are aware you have more than two parts of eyes, yes? Must you use all of them to stare at my chest?"

".....As your employer, I have no need to answer such ridiculous questions."

[komelliko]

manipulative!boss!sunday x timid!secretary!reader

summary: Sunday can no longer control himself around you. He will make his affections known. this is nsfw! cw for dubcon! fingering/dry humping/softdom!sunday

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 (nsfw) / part 4

---

By his insistence, it had been too late post-dinner for you to head home alone. In fact, it had been too late to bother leaving Blue Hour at all—not when Sunday could find you a place to stay the night as easily as walking through the entrance of the nearest hotel. "One room," he had told the Halovian clerk at the front desk, a kindly young lady with red cardinal feathers encircling her cheeks. "Anything will do." You tapped the empty box of mints clutched in your hand with one of your fingers, as if the slow rap-tap-tap would truly relieve any of your nervousness. His words had stuck with you after all—The Head of the Oak Family wandering around Blue Hour with a glorified nobody wearing a dress like this? Of course they'd assume something!

But you weren't a glorified nobody, you wanted to tell yourself. You had worked your ass off to be here, even if nobody else around you knew that. You were a somebody, no matter where you were or what Sunday had you wear or anything of the sort. You were one of the most powerful people in Penacony, damnit. ...Of course, at the time, you had been too distracted by this train of thought to realize he had only asked for one room. And, furthermore, at the time you hadn't asked if he would be making any trips that night himself.

Sunday had counted on this.

Sunday walks you to your room with his hand on your lower back once again, in what feels almost like a mockery of the conversation you had with him a few hours ago. You suck on the inside of your cheek, wishing the mints hadn't all been swallowed by now. Even as you try to walk faster than him ever so slightly, he seems to set the pace. Slow, methodical, calculated. The first thing you notice when you get to the room is the large window overlooking the rest of the Moment, sprawling buildings disappearing into the edge of the dreamscape. Large billboards painted in shimmering hues of gold display women in ornate jewelry, displaying dazzling watches and rows upon rows of pearls. You've never seen a Penaconian skyline that didn't have its fair share of advertisements, in all truthfulness—Every instance of gold and ochre like another glinting set of eyes watching you as you go about your day. Sunday approaches behind you, his hand resting on one of your shoulders.

"Don't you want to sit down?" he asks. You initially think to protest, but before you can even process it you're already in his lap, a lone wooden chair pulled out from the room's lounging area to sit in front of the window. Your eyes switch between glancing out at the billboards, then your knees, then somewhere in the middle distance. His voice takes on a honey-like quality that it usually only shows a hint of, whispering things in your ear that you accept so easily... because they almost sound like music. A low, deep harmony.

"I hope you know, [Y/N]," he speaks against the back of your neck, fingers dancing through your hair. "That when everything is said and done, I don't just consider you an employee. I consider you a friend."

His other hand goes to rest on your hip. You're still not sure what to make of it—Maybe you just don't want to accept the answer. This hot, churning feeling begins to twist just below your stomach, slowly growing bigger and bigger.

"O-of course, Mr. Sunday. Thank you, Mr. Sunday."

What would please him more: For you to drop the formality, or to keep it even as you're eventually moaning it? Sunday isn't entirely sure, but he lets the thought percolate while he continues to play with your hair. You sink your head back into his touch, and your whole body moves in response: Pressing up against him in a way he would kill for.

He cannot control himself any longer. For the briefest moment, he drops all pretense.

"Hike up your dress, [Y/N]."

Once you realize what he means by it, your hands have already shifted the hem halfway up your thighs. This is your boss. You can't be doing this. You'd only be proving people right this way.

...But what would he do if you said no?

The skeptic in you gives in, clinging onto the reasoning that you have no choice anyways. Hell, in the most pessimistic light, you might get a promotion out of this.

The tent in his pants pokes between your thighs like a cattle brand, hot and stiff. You clasp your knees together, but the choice works against you: the way your thighs press against the intrusion, the way the pooling cyprine leaks onto his pants. If you had any hope of convincing him (or yourself) to stop, it was long gone. You hear Sunday let out a groan, a gloved hand petting one of your thighs.

"You can keep a secret... can't you?"

There's nothing else for you to say. You stare at the floor, your face burning bright red.

"Of course, Mr. Sunday."

"...I've dreamed of doing this."

His hand moves with a particular confidence as it slips between your thighs, a single finger tracing that hidden bundle of nerves.

"It's awful," he pouts, his touch slowing to a crawl, "How often I convinced myself I could be satisfied with so little. Yet as I indulged myself with your presence further and further, I could not find satiation." The way his fingers gently pass over you cause you to jump in his lap, and he only sighs again, wrapping his other arm around your waist to keep you still. "Oh, how I betray myself."

The pace of his fingers quickens again, and you stop to think—Promotion? What in Aeon's name would you even be promoted to? What rung on the corporate ladder was there above Secretary to a Family Head (other than being a Head yourself, which was obviously out of the question), and what difference would it make if he changed your title to Personal Assistant or something of that ilk?

Well, there was no point in asking that question. You knew the answer. A promotion was clearly on the horizon—it just wasn't a corporate one.

His fingers breach through, and Sunday gasps as if he himself is being penetrated, not the other way around. What first seems to simply be Sunday readjusting himself in his seat eventually becomes a slow, desperate grinding of his hips, thrusting them up into your own as his fingers continue their work of spreading you open. Two, then three, then four. His head spins at the sensation of syrupy fluid coating his knuckles, as if even touching it is enough to get him drunk. Hissing out a minced oath under his breath, Sunday rips off his stained glove and plunges his fingers in again, practically dry humping you in his lap once he can truly feel the way you clench around his hand.

"Oh, you're perfect," he exhales. "Aeon forgive me for what I want to do to you, [Y/N]. The things you do to me... How badly I needed this." He starts to direct his huffing into your shoulder. "Come for me, [Y/N]—Right on my palm. Ruin me, I beg you."

"Mr. Sunday," you heave, the words forcing themself past your wobbling lip even as you bite it shut. "I—"

"[Y/N]," he whimpers. "Please." You clasp both your hands over your mouth when you finally reach release, throwing your head back with a muffled cry. Your heart continues to race so hard that it makes you dizzy, the sound thumping in your ears. Sunday, too, starts to heave in tandem, and you feel the sheen of sweat on his cheeks as he sloppily plants kisses on the back of your neck. As he catches his breath, Sunday's eyes glance around the room warily. He notices the pitcher of water on the countertop (a complimentary convenience typical for this specific hotel, and the main reason he chose this one to begin with), and resolved to dump it on his lap. Not to wash off any of his and your release currently sticking your laps together and staining his trousers, of course—But simply as a convenient excuse. He'd only been attending to his wonderful secretary, his treasured secretary, when the water was spilled as he filled a glass for you. ...Or maybe spilling it over his head and saying he had to dive into a fountain to valiantly save you from some ne'er-do-well would be more reasonable? Catching stray bullets with his hand to keep his darling safe and the like?

Your orgasm had all but knocked you unconscious, your half-lidded gaze unable to focus on the flashing lights and colors out the open window. The two of you must have been twenty, thirty stories off the ground, far from anyone spotting your little tryst. You slump back into Sunday's chest, rolling your head backwards as you mumble a weak "Mr. Sunday..." "Thank you for indulging me, my dear," is all he responds with, scooping you up off his lap and bringing you to the room's bed. Once you are draped in the bed's covers, you quickly fall asleep, with the night's events sure to become a hazy memory.

Sunday sighs contentedly to himself. In a final moment of trangression, he takes his soiled glove into his mouth for a brief moment to savor that which stains it. He can only hope—no, be certain of the fact that—the endless dream he searches to blanket this world in will be to your every liking. ...With you by his side, no doubt.

It wouldn't need mention just yet, but for your marriage to him to be the first union blessed by Ena THEMSELVES..?

Why, what could be better? --- a/n: when looking back through some of his lines, i thiiiink sunday uses aeon as the singular? correct me if I'm wrong on this lolol. feedback is always appreciated, especially regarding pacing! criticize me to hell and back y'all I want to write better smut :,) tag list: @j1yu425 @crepezinhos @i-am-tiredd

[d3stinyist1red]

Yandere town?? Live convenience store cashier or mall owner or police officer and paramedics or anything both platonic and romantic like the elders try to get reader married to their children etc

YASSS QUEEN 😛😛😛

Yan town who literally is obsessed with everything you do, like u could be drinking water and they'll praise you for drinking it

Yan town who literally has the biggest fanclub of you, they exchange pictures, and items that used to belong to you

Yan convenience store cashier who literally has the sluttiest clothes in his bag just in case you come in

Yan police officer that gets called everytime you try burning the town down, biting his lip while saying "N/n, your being a very naughty girl!~" He playfully slaps,and runs his fingers up and down on your arm.

Yan medic who is lowkey a baddie, litteraly whenever he hears that you have a cut, he puts on the most lil skirt possible, and literally brings out things that nurses would only use if your on fucking life support, acting as if your gonna die just because of a tiny ass cut

yan platonic elderly woman who begs you to marry her son. Her son was very attractive and rich, waving at you shyly as he thinks about the ways you could stroke and suck him off

Yan business man who tries to get you to be his secretary, begging you on his knees and shit. He literally kisses your feet anytime he is in a 5 mile radius of u

Yan farmer who literally is pushing 20 and acting like a middle school boy who barely hit puberty, humping at your shoe and everything. He gives you free fruits tho! Though, he does try to trade with you. Your panties for the fruits of course!

Yan cowboy who let you ride him and save his horse. He literally tells you to get on his horse with him, your in front of him as he guides the horse, his front leaning against your back. He tries to hide his huge boner, and how he's slowly thrusting it against you.

Yan loser who no one likes💀 if ur the angel of the town, he's the devil. He's a total weirdo, whenever he sees you, his hands immediately go for his pants, trying to patt his dick down. "H-hey, do you wa-wanna help me wit-with mini me?"

Yan platonic unc who tries to get you to go on a blind date with his niece. You finally went, and his niece was down bad for u. His niece wouldn't even eat his food, staring at you the whole time with heart eyes, and giggling at you

Yan old man who lets you be his sugar baby. You don't even do anything, all you have to do is sit there and look pretty, and he will give you the money. Very cutesy very demure

[obsessivevoidkitten]

Cop More than a Feel

Kinktober Day 10: Spitroasting Two DILF Cop Alpha Yanderes x Gender Neutral Omega Reader CW: Noncon, omega discrimination, bigotry, a/b/o dynamics, musk, pheromones, abuse of authority, spitroasting, oral sex, threesome, knotting, general yandere behavior, reader fucked big stupid Word Count: 2k (Hope you guys enjoy this!)

You were in your car, a quiet moment of dread before going into work. It had become something of a daily tradition. You knew it would be another day of being belittled and harassed but if you gave up now it would be like admitting to all the people who told you you couldn’t amount to anything that they were right. You were an omega who had put themselves through the rigorous training to be a police officer, and you had managed to land a job in a short staffed department.

But no matter what you did or how many times you had proved yourself, you were still treated as a glorified secretary. The most dangerous thing you had ever been allowed to do was to go and get doughnuts and coffee by yourself.

It was humiliating. But it was not the worst thing that you had to put up with.

The worst of it were the snide remarks you could hear them make. Not even out of earshot, they didn't care if you heard. Awful comments about how you should be happy to even be a secretary around this kind of work. Comments about whose knot you should wind up bouncing on. Comments about what they thought your pheromones were like without your suppressants making them nearly undetectable. Comments about what your slick tasted like.

Those remarks made you angry, frustrated, and depressed. You wanted to scream and cry, but neither of those were options, lest you validate the emotional omega stereotype. It was pure gaslighting. But as ugly and bigoted as those remarks had been, they still weren't the end of things. It wasn't uncommon for a wandering hand to slide up your thigh when you had to sit by one of the alpha officers or grab your ass when you bent over.

The only time they didn't make any crude comments or get touchy with you were the times when the chief of police or the captain were around. You thought this was a hopeful sign that some of your superiors were open to the idea of an omega on the force and that they had told your other coworkers to treat you as an equal. At the very least, their commanding presence brought you some relief. They were ex-military, after all. This was not a just world, though, and you could not have been more wrong.

When you eventually mustered up the mental fortitude and could avoid it no longer, you went into the building.

For the most part, it was a standard and uneventful day, or at least what could be considered uneventful relative to what you normally suffered through. There were still comments and lecherous hands. Just not to the extent that there could have been. Though your day was fated to get much worse as right after lunch you were called into the chief's office.

Were you finally going to be given a chance to do some real police work?

No.

You entered to find both Chief Markey and Captain Nelson were present, and for some reason, the desk had been cleared. They did not look happy at all. It was a surprise performance review. This was not the first review that you had failed, but it was the one they were most negative with.

They said that while you clearly wanted to succeed and put in effort that it simply wasn't good enough. You were constantly jumpy and distracted, on edge constantly. Not to mention emotional. No major outbursts per se, but you were constantly glaring at your fellow coworkers. You tried to point out that your behavior reflected a hostile work environment.

Chief Markey raised his voice as he replied while Captain Nelson smirked.

"That proves you aren't meant for this job, you cannot even take responsibility for your own mistakes! Furthermore..."

He then went into great detail about how you made the men uncomfortable and then laid out accusations of you purposefully putting pheromones out to seduce or entice your fellow officers. Combined with your glaring, it was basically sexual harassment.

"This is insane! They get to grope and comment about me, but if I complain, it is my responsibility? But they get to just make up random bullshit about me, and I get admonished without proof!?"

"Calm down!"

"Yeah, you're being hysterical! Proving everyone completely right. It is obvious an omega can't be an officer."

Chief Markey scratched his well-groomed beard before smirking.

"But we have thought up a position for you..."

The position they had thought of was any that involved taking their knots.

Apparently, they were completely obsessed with you. A strong omega that would produce healthy babies, so resilient. But your place was riding one of their cocks, not in a dangerous job. It's why the other officers stopped harassing you when they were around. Markey and Nelson had marked you as theirs. They didn't like the others touching you, but thought it was a useful way to get you to break down, so they had an excuse to give you bad evaluations. Of course, they knew such a prideful omega would never just go along with being "reassigned," so they made sure you couldn't refuse.

They said that they'd plant evidence on you, get you fired from any new job, and track you down to the ends of the earth. No matter what, they'd ruin your life if you didn't submit.

"But don't worry, we'll let you wear the uniform and even keep the word "officer" in your title."

Nelson stroked your cheek and wiped away your tears with a rugged calloused hand.

"Yeah, you'll be our personal morale officer and take our knots every day when not working as our personal secretary."

Markey closed the blinds that hung in front of the large windows that overlooked the rest of the department and then locked the door.

"And look on the bright side. None of the other officers will give you any trouble after this."

You wanted to scream, to fight back, to run. Do anything, but take it. But that was all you could do. Well, that and cry. They had finally won. Captain Nelson wiped away your tears and pressed his lips to yours as you held back ugly sobs.

"Typical omega, so emotional. You'll feel better after you've had some good breeding."

Chief Markey made his way behind you and attended to the task of removing your uniform.

"No... no ple-"

You had started to protest somewhat loudly but were cut off by more unwanted kisses before Nelson spoke smugly.

"Now. Now. Don't want to protest too loudly and have all your coworkers hear, do you?"

You were shivering in fear.

"Don't be scared, it will all be over soon."

Markey rubbed a teasing finger around your hole.

"Oh, you're much too dry."

"We can fix that, though."

They each nibbled and gnawed a side of your neck, The Chief from behind and The Captain from the front. Your trembling in fear became involuntary quivers of pleasure.

They could tell the difference. Smell it easily. And then feel it as slick leaked from your hole and onto Markey's fingers. He left your neck to lick his thumb.

"Tastes ripe," he chuckled.

You were in such shock by the circumstances and physical stimulation that you didn't even notice when they had pulled down their pants and underwear, large throbbing cocks on full display and eager to be buried inside of you. One of them pulled out a thick blanket from beneath the desk and spread it out on top of it. They picked you up and laid you down carefully on the desk.

Ah... so that's why the desk had been cleared.

Chief Markey groped your ass while Captain Nelson held his cock in his hand and lightly smacked your face with it, smearing your face with its scent as you tightly closed your eyes. You gasped as Markey dipped his dick into you, your open mouth taken as an invitation for Nelson to slip his prick in. It tasted salty, probably from sweat and the near comical amount of precum he was producing. There was no choice but to swallow it  as he flooded your mouth.

Markey smacked your ass hard, causing you to jolt in surprise.

"Careful! I don't want them to bite my cock!"

"Sorry..."

They started out moving in tandem, Markey's thrusts pushing you onto Nelson's cock and Nelson pushing you onto Markey. But that didn't last as they began to lose themselves and go a bit feral. It only spurred them onward when you started twitching and convulsing in the pleasure that had been forced upon you, betrayed by your own body.

Deep anxiety and dread bubbled within you, but even as it did, another instinctual part of you was demanding that you submit and let your alpha mates breed you deeply. As the small room began to fill with the pheromones of two alphas and their cocks continued to plow into you, you felt your body slowly relax and become pliant to their touch.

You flinched in slight discomfort as Markey's knot swelled inside you and throbbed as he filled you with his cum. Nelson followed suit, filling your throat with his seed, but careful not to knot your mouth and risk choking you. Though that didn't stop you from gagging a bit as his nuts emptied into you.

"Oh, you haven't gotten your release yet... can't have that. What kind of mates would we be if we didn't make you feel good?"

Markey rolled his hips, moving his knot inside you until you convulsed and moaned out softly. Once his knot deflated and unbound the two of you he and Nelson swapped positions until you were brought to climax and knotted by Nelson while Markey made you suck his cock, slick with your mingled juices.

They played with you in a few other positions for over an hour until you were just a limp little sex doll. They took you on the floor, against the wall, on the desk some more, on the chairs. Your hair, face, thighs, crotch, and butt were covered in musky alpha seed. It oozed out of your hole. You were left slouched in the chair and too fucked out of your mind to do anything but mumble and drool. You were the very picture of someone who was utterly debauched.

"So quiet and well behaved. Will definitely pass a new performance review."

"Just proves that omegas need knots and not a high stress job."

To complete your new look were twin claiming bites on each side of your sensitive neck. They wiped you clean as best they could but you still absolutely reeked of cum and musk, though they didn't want their scent removed from you anyway. Nelson clothed you and covered you up with his jacket, feeling that if you were in your right mind, you wouldn't want to be seen in this state. And while he was proud of fucking you into such a stupor, the sight was for his and Markey's eyes only.

To be honest, he hadn't really wanted to share you, even with Markey. But the two of them had been old military buddies, so they decided not to let an omega come between them.

Except for when they literally had you between them.

They had come to the agreement that they would switch who you lived with weekly and share you on weekends. And of course they'd have you at work as their assistant/secretary... and as their cumdump on slow days... Captain Nelson was given the rest of the day off to get you situated and inform you of your happy new homes. You were in no state to take in new information, poor dear, but you'd be better in an hour or so.

[merakiui]

You can't tease us with that amazing tag and not elaborate! Secret relationship with secretary is too good not to share. But consider this, rather than Jade, who is most likely to allow their SO to have a fake relationship with CEO Azul to milk them for monetary gain? Intern Ruggie.

Intern Ruggie is just starting out in his career. He knows he can't give his darling everything he'd like in his salary, so why not use Azul. If he is that gullible, then Azul is just asking for Intern Ruggie and his darling to fleece him out of anything they can! Plus, if he plays his cards right, Ruggie might be able to get some blackmail to help him jumpstart his career.

Eventually, Darling starts to feel used by Ruggie and consisers what she what a beneficial situation she has with Azul. Does Tako have a chance to steal her away after all? The office drama!

Secret office relationship with Jade works so well because he’s very good at keeping secrets and being completely professional about everything on the outside. Maybe you’re not even with Azul for money. Maybe you just feel bad because it’s so obvious he likes you and you suppose it wouldn’t hurt to try, even if you’re going about it in a very dishonest way.

It’s even more fun because Jade isn’t very worried about being caught. He’s been friends with Azul for so long now. The worst that’ll happen is Azul’s hearts break and he’s crying about the fake relationship he had with you for a week or so (though knowing Azul even heartbreak may become motivation for him to work towards getting the things he wants). Jade loves to toe the line with you to see how far he can go before Azul begins to suspect something. He’ll pull you into the empty bathroom for heated kisses, he’ll stand closer to you during meetings when Azul is present—sometimes even being so bold that he tries to hold your hand or interlace your fingers—and even failing to cover up the bruising love bite you’ve left just the prior night, which Azul will most definitely notice as Jade makes quite the slow show of properly buttoning his shirt and adjusting his jacket.

Intern Ruggie is even more shameless than Jade! He’ll want you to be his eyes and ears on the inside so that he can learn all sorts of secrets from Azul in hopes of getting another foot up on the corporate ladder. He tells you Azul won’t really miss anything from his expensive penthouse if he isn’t actively looking for missing valuables, but you’re nowhere near as sly as Ruggie is when it comes to stealing.

For a while you and Ruggie have a good system. He allows you to spend time with Azul whenever he asks you out or invites you back to his house, and when you’re not with Azul you’re spending you’re time with Ruggie. As much as he wants to be successful and rich, Ruggie also secretly hopes to be stable enough to provide you with the future you want. He really does care for you; it’s just that money is getting low and your arrangement with Azul could help him a lot.

Although maybe Azul has already sniffed his plans out. Maybe he’s known all this time and has waited for the right moment to put his foot down. Maybe, when you stop showing up to work one day and are soon labeled missing and Ruggie has a very clear suspicion of who’s behind it, Azul can only deny such terribly false accusations.

It’s the word of a nobody intern against the pristine image of a CEO. Really, there’s no competition. Azul holds every card in the deck. Ruggie never had any chance from the beginning.