#making a mess of her litter box

[hatikarat]

Just straight up cried at the vet today

[125storejuice]

.

[skyward-floored]

Living with ten people is normally fine except for when everyone’s bad moods happen to coincide with each other then it’s basically just duck and cover

[yumistr]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐊 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐎 𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐖𝐄𝐃.

୨୧ : 𝗿𝘆𝗼𝗺𝗲𝗻 𝘀𝘂𝗸𝘂𝗻𝗮 𝓍𝓍 𝘧𝘦𝘮!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 . ࣪⊹ ݁ ˖

" her whole world comes crumbling down when his friends mess around with her test , the girl returning the favor of messing up their faces as a thank you. "

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁𝘀.⠀⠀afab!reader. use of she/her pronouns. references to WHC1 kdrama. virgin!reader. violence. gore mentions. major injuries. wound aiding. crying. corruption. dry humping. exhibitionism. cunnilingus. dacryphilia. manhandling. fingering. spanking. pussy slapping. choking. begging. praise. pet names (brat, princess, good girl, pretty). marking. gagging. ⟡ : 𝘄𝗰.⠀10.2k. ⠀ 🏷️ : @screampied @dollicries @marimogf

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀𑄽𑄺ྀ

“you drive me fuckin’ crazy.”

MONDAY⠀|⠀11:35 AM

⠀

ᡴꪫ⠀"𝓢o, what’d ya get, hm?" comparing scores was always something you seemed to rather enjoy. at least with the man who was the only other student in your university that was on-par with your sheer intelligence.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀his intimidating and leering glare would scare off anyone else on campus, anyone else but you. you weren’t afraid of him like the others were. sure, he was almost seven feet tall and had the figure of a professional bodybuilder, yet he was still as much of a nerd as you were. his delinquent personality and aggressive behaviors were nothing compared to his raw intellect that he tried oh so dearly to shield beneath his broad chest. it didnt take a genius to see right through his pathetic attempts at acting; that genius being you.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀however, you knew all too well that he’d pummel your face in if you ever even dared to mention it, so your lips were sealed tighter than a noose.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"hop off, will ya? y’re such a drag, brat," the man groaned in response, pushing aside the paper you shoved into his face all the while he removed his textbook from atop his own test.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀your face had never dropped faster in your life. you were in utter disbelief as your delicate fingers snatched his test up, bringing the white sheet so close to your face the words were going to jump right out at you.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"a hundred and one?!?! are you kidding me?!!” scoffed and irritated, you tossed his paper back in his face, Sukuna shooting a demeaning grin at you in return.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀baffled would be an entire understatement of how you felt. and that goddamn pearly white smile he bore into your figure was not any better. he loved the attitude drop you contorted anytime you were once again let down and reminded of who the actual top student was, no matter how much you tried to overcome him. he’d always be one step ahead of you, even if you stayed up for an entire week studying as if it were a religion; he could sleep and not attend class, and would still manage to one up you.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀it drove you mad. he drove you mad.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"puñeta cabrón. tu puta madre, ay dío!" ( damn bastard. you mother fucker, oh my )

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Sukuna loved nothing more than making you mad, solely because he had a guilty pleasure for seeing how your eyes narrowed down at him. how you’d have that singular vein prodding the side of your head like a stray wire. how you’d huff at him without a single thing to respond with aside from your usually spanish curses, something he could listen to on repeat. even if the only time you ever talked to him you got annoyed, at least your attention was on him and not one of the other low life guys who were no good for you, let alone even on your skill level.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀the man would never have the balls to admit it. not when your ego was already your entire personality and you knew how everyone wanted you, though your interest was more involved in the small text boxes that littered your school books.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀chuckles rumbled from the core of his chest, low eyes following your figure (your ass) as you swiftly pivoted your heels in the direction of Aoi Todo’s desk. the sight nicked Sukuna’s nerves, his jaw clenching with nothing but pure irritation whirling within his crimson eyes. exasperated scoffs we’re the only thing he could utter, lightly shaking his head and gazing out the classroom window at an attempt to calm himself down.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀the already tightly-fitted fabric of his uniform only grew dense with every rigid breath he took. with how harsh he was breathing through his nose, he could start a damn fire. though, he’d never admit to being the possessive type. he could barely see how he was already obsessed with you, denying every factual thought he had about it. he was hardheaded. stubborn. irritably headstrong, of course. not over his dead body would he openly confess his dark desires.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀it was absolutely no help at all that you were also a virgin. everyone knew, as weird as it sounded. well, none of them had the guts to ask you to confirm, but with how deep your nose was in a text book twenty-four-seven, it wouldn’t take much effort to come to the conclusion.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀just the thought of Sukuna’s dick being the one to pop that sweet cherry of yours, oh how he’d kill to do so. call him a pervert, he could care less, he just wanted a taste. even if it was just for a second. god, what he’d do for it. it’d definitely be a change from the women who threw themselves at him daily, the man unable to genuinely get off to their screeching sounds as he rammed them senseless.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀though, your back was turned to him as you sat diligently atop your desk with your fangirls friends surrounding you, all he could think about were his devilish desires. the ones he only had for you even though you were supposed to be his rival. arch nemesis. whatever the fuck those corny rom-com movies call two academic rivals. if he wanted, he could easily give up and let you be the top student, but that’d mean he wouldn’t be able to hear the sweet utterance of your voice every morning, or the satisfying sounds of your heels clicking down towards his desk after each test.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"hey, class prez, ya forgot this in the gym," an annoyingly high-pitched voice broke Sukuna from his dazed trance on you, cold eyes averting to the blue-haired idiot he called a friend that had approached you with your tumbler.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀a soft gasped slipped beneath your plump lips, legs uncrossing whilst you lowered yourself onto the polished floor and gently grabbing your belonging from his grasp. two arms snaked his shoulders and a sudden plush force was pressed against his own chest. to say he tensed up, he’d be lying. he froze entirely, unsure what had happened within the millisecond he took to blink.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀right before Sukuna’s eyes, you had clung yourself to Mahito, of all goddamn people. your heels were lifted from the ground as your ass could almost be visibly seen from beneath the school’s uniform skirt. oh how he’d give anything to rip Mahito from your grasp and replace it. the sight was nauseating, Mahito’s hands traveling dangerously low on your back, rimming the edges of your skirt.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Mahito could feel Sukuna burning gaze searing holes through his body, a tethering fire brewing in the pits of his stomach the longer you strayed on his body.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"heh, i-it was no problem, really." he coughed up after a tender “thank you” was brought from your mouth.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀with a soft shove and maneuver, Mahito had slipped from your touch and cautiously made his way to the back of the class. if looks could kill, he’d have been buried the moment your arms even grazed his school blazer.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"hah, you’re one ballsy motherfucker," Haruta’s sly words had more than one meaning to them, and Mahito knew what he was provoking at. Shooting the idiotic blonde a narrowed gaze, Mahito smacked his hand behind his head, a ‘tch’ sound weaving its way into his threat for Haruta to shut up.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"fuck r’ya talkin’ about?" Sukuna chimed into the pairs altercation, Mahito slumping himself into his seat that was situated in the row next to Sukuna, a seat behind Haruta. Suspicions were high, and the blue-haired fucker was definitely on Sukuna’s list. he didn’t like not one thing about his attitude, or tone of voice.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"it’s nothin’, don’t worry about it. he’s just talking out of his fucking ass,” gritting his teeth through the last few words, Mahito flicked the back of Haruta’s head, the blonde yet again wincing at his self-inflicted injuries.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀with one last glance at the two, Sukuna scoffed and rolled his eyes prior to reverting back at you. whatever they did, not like he cared as long as it didn’t involve you. it couldn’t be that bad anyways.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀your favorite part of exam-taking was checking your answers afterwards. the satisfaction that settled within your body anytime they called out the correct choice, and you got it right, it was a sort of a euphoric endurance. you already knew that you’d get it right, you always did, but the reassurance was something you lived for.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀however, this time was far from being the same.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀besides the fact you could feel your eyes growing droopier and droopier the longer the exam went on, you also could barely feel your fingers as they grazed the tethered fabric of the test papers. each time you tried to wash away the suffocating apprehension with a nice sip from your tumbler, your body only felt worse, reluctantly obliging to the state it craved dearly.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀even after slapping some sense into yourself, causing nothing but a scene in the midst of a serious exam, you still couldn’t ward off the irritable feeling that flowed through your bloodstream.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"five .. three .." the answers repeated in your head like a nursery rhyme, your clouded mind trying to find out where you went wrong. how you could slip up so deliberately like a damn idiot in a circus act.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀nothing made sense. none of it. at all.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀you studied relentlessly. skipped meals. drowned yourself in energy drinks. kept your bed cold and empty for days on end, just so you could retain all and every last bit of information that you needed to pass the exam. you used your best notebooks, best recommended supplies to better aid your studies. and somehow, in some godawful way, you still missed them.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀your teeth ricocheted off one another, jaw clenched so tight it could slice through fine print. indents were clawing themself through the flesh of your palms, nails delving deeply into your skin that cut off all blood circulation in them.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀'cabrona.' you thought,

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀'cabrona. cabrona. cabrona.' repetition was the only thing traveling through the veins in your brain, aside from the evident self-hatred.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀the sound of a fellow classmates tumbler being set on the ground brought you out of your daze, eyelashes fluttering heavily as you peered up at yours. a sort of lightbulb almost going off the moment you landed on your own. with glassy eyes and numb fingertips; your quivering hand reached for the container, in utter disbelief at what could possibly be inside.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀'no .. ellos no tendrían ..’ ( no .. they wouldn’t have .. )

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀though, the sounds of minimal laughter lingering from the back of the class sent chills spiraling down your back, dispersing through your body the minute it hit your core. white walls were the only thing in mind, a ringing sensation zipping through your ears whilst the realization alas set it. boys will be boys, teachers would say.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀but, to hell with that shit.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀before you could even have a chance to decipher who did what, or what substance was exactly coursing your veins, your legs had already dragged you down the row of desks behind you. your vision was still a bit of a blur, much like it was during the exam. however, this time you knew exactly what you were doing. well, at least your body did.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀it knew exactly where it was leading you to. the precise actions that were to follow, and how you’d deal with the matter at hand. even with your head in a bunch, it was clear.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀the tumbler that calmly rested in your grasp skimmed the edge of your skirt as you walked, head hung low with trembling murmurs slipping past your lips. you couldn’t believe their audacity. they weren’t even your friends yet thought some mediocre prank would slide by so smoothly.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"h-heh. it was just a small amount, prez-" before Haruta even had time to give you some lousy excuse, the end of your tumbler was pummeling it’s way into his jaw; face smashing into the desk below him. the deeper you drove it into his flesh, the more crackling that followed behind. those same noises you craved to hear from his body. you wanted every last inch of him cracking under your touch.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"o-oh, shit!" Mahito was able to blurt out as the back of your opposite fist hammered straight into his nose, his chair rocking backwards before he went soaring to the ground, fumbling into the lockers that remained against the back wall.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀you had no time for negotiations. you needed for them to feel how it felt to have spent so much time and effort into studying, just for a bunch of nobodies to throw it all away because they have nothing better to do with their pathetic lives. their lives may not depend on it, and they may have no future. but you sure as hell did.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀stalking towards the blue-haired freak, you watched as his body recoiled along the polished floor, rugged coughs and exaggerated groans dripping from the tip of his tongue. your own heaves were entwined into his noises, teeth senselessly hitting against one another every passing moment. he could barely kneel down and regain himself when you curled your wrist at him suddenly, the side of your tumbler snapping his head as it slammed into his cheek. yet, he still had no time to react as his head fell straight into the open grasp of your free hand, grabbing the roots of his hair with a life-threatening grip.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀reeling your arm back and officially dropping your bottle to the ground, your hand held onto the top of the lockers, thumb curling the edge to get a solid hold. you sent the man’s face right into the metal containers, repeatedly reeling him away and slamming him right back in.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀over, and over again. one after another, his face continued to scrape the material, sense of awareness getting lost in the overbearing ringing noise that clogged his eardrums. after the fifth hit, he could no longer keep track of how many times you slammed his face into the locker door.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀the blood that now drenched his uniform would surely be the least of his problems with how many gashes and broken bones littered his facial structure. trickles of the crimson liquid trailed down his flesh, some seeping into the depths of his other open wounds while others dropped onto the roughened fabric of his uniform pants.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀you would’ve done more. you wanted to do more. but fate had other plans when a pair of large arms wrapped around you, lifting you off the ground you once stood proudly on. flailing in the air, you were able to shake them off for merely a second, swiping your foot along the floor before it made contact with Mahito’s face, getting that last hit in just as you were tossed over someone’s shoulders and lifted highly off the ground.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀being face to face with their backside, you hadn’t a clue who it was or where you were going, just that you wanted to kick their ass just as much for interrupting your much needed plans. your arms were stuck to your sides with theirs curled over your lower back, rendering you unable to move whatsoever. you could barely move your legs with how much blood flow traveled to your head, let alone the drugs that were already seeping into every inch of your being.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀once they’d made it into the nurses office who was seemingly on her hour lunch break, the door slammed behind the two of you whilst they alas set you down. though, their large rough hands never left your figure as you continued to struggle out of their grasp.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"k-kill him .. i’m gonna .. i’m .. f-fucking — i’m .. kill .. kill-"

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"L/N Y/N." harsh and abrupt, the man that stood before you pulled you from your senselessness. Sukuna shaking you a bit to get you off whatever mindless train you were riding. if he was being honest, you definitely startled him. it may have been just a slither, but it was surely turning some gears in his head.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"tch, jesus christ you crazy brat, what the hell?!" he exasperated, finally letting you go.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀your eyes wandered the room, encapsulating the area that surrounded you all the while you tried to configure yourself. gashes and blood splatters likewise tattered your hands, your mind far too lost in the adrenaline to realize you also fucked yourself up in the midst of beating them.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"i just- i- i- they- i ju-" "open." he demanded in a monotone voice, calloused hand already grasping the back of your neck as he brought a water bottle to your mouth. before you could even protest, he was already pressing the edge of it into your lips with the liquids traveling down your throat against your will. not that it wasn’t for the greater good, just that it caught you off guard by a long shot.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀he watched tediously as a vague yelp muffled beneath your lips, trembling hands pathetically attempting to push him away before you had any idea of what he was doing. though, you stopped the minute it processed.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"y’re fuckin’ psychotic, y’know that?" he scoffed, draining out the water into your mouth before he let you go. all you could do was obediently swallow, coughs scratching at your once dry throat with your body tumbled over and a hand resting along the wall beside you.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"ow, fuck!" you hissed in irritation, covering the wounds on your hands as the high you once rode on finally settled down, causing all injuries to hit you like a damn truck. you couldn’t even feel how deep the gashes were prior, but as the tingling sensations set in, that’s all you felt.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀turning to you, Sukuna sighed at your idiocy despite being the top student in their school. he reached for your forearm, disregarding all cries and pleas you threw at him before sitting you atop the nurses bed. you didn’t want him touching your wounds, let alone fixing them with how much they hurt.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"don’t start cryin’ alright? i don’t need to hear that shit," Sukuna groaned, bringing over a first aid kit from one of the tables. you attempted to protest his care, not wanting to feel alcohol being poured onto your fresh wounds, but he could care less. he didn’t need to see you struggling for the next few days just because you were too much of a pussy to clean them right away.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀however, what he was not expecting and entirely unready for, was for your pleas to sound like moans. his entire body tensed the minute your gentle hand pressed against his large bicep, whimpers tumbling from your lips. all he did was rub his thumb over the open gashes so he could measure the gauze, and your minuscule sounds had his heart dropping to his stomach.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"S-Suku — fuck, wait," you protested, the mere graze of his thumb already sending needles to shoot all through your arm.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀he tried his best to ignore it. to push away any and all vile thoughts that dared to resurface his mind now that he finally knew what you could possibly sound in bed. he didn’t want to think of such things at the moment. for crying out loud, he was staring at blood and bones.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀for the next few minutes as he tended to your wounds, all he could do was tune you out. he wasn’t surprised that you didn’t know the difference between whining and moaning, you’ve probably never even had to moan before.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀your cheeks were scooped into his rough grasp before you knew it, his face barely centimeters from yours as his harsh and ragged breathing fanned your nose. the close proximity was eating him alive, your widened doe-eyes meeting his leering gaze that was fixated on nothing but you.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"stop .. stop making those damn sounds," he demanded more like a plea, unable to bring himself to genuinely be mean to you, but also desperate for you to stop before it sent him into utter madness.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀you obliged with a small nod, swallowing the lump in your throat while he returned back to covering your hand in medical wraps. this time, you just softly hummed to yourself, trying to maintain your noises that you guessed were too annoying for him that he wanted you to shut up. and the last thing you wanted to do was annoy the man who quite literally had your arm in a chokehold just so you wouldn’t pull away.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀yet, on the last tug he gave your wrapped hand, a tender sound escaped your trembling lips that had Sukuna’s teeth grinding together. he could feel his core brewing a small fire, heat trailing it’s way up his throat by the second. he had a fucking boner.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"fucking hell .." he muttered through clenched teeth, pushing your hand aside and locking himself in the bathroom across the room.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀you had no time to apologize, or even stop him before the door slammed in your face, your words getting caught in your throat. the guilt slowly ate away at you whilst you stood opposite to the bathroom door, attempting to muster up some form of apology to Sukuna who was evidently pissed off at you for not listening to a simple fucking task.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"Su — Sukuna, i’m really sorry for annoying you. i didn’t mean to. i just — i don’t have the best pain tolerance and,—" oh how you were so painfully, pathetically fucking oblivious.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀you were far off from annoying him. you turned him on for christ sake. his pants grew tight around the growing erection he had, trying so desperately to think of anything else but you just so it’d go away. even thinking about all the other girls who thought they were suitable to ever be his girlfriend, he just needed something that wasn’t your voice booming in his head.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀yet, the more you talked, the worse it got.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀there was no way that he’d be able to get rid of it with you being right outside that door. the same door you were trying to speak through to apologize for something you didn’t even do.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀and, somehow, in some deranged and crazy fast way, you ended up in the bathroom with him, being pressed firmly against the door. you had absolutely no time to think whilst his arm snaked through the small opening he made and swiftly dragged you in, a tiny yelp hiccuping from your throat.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀the tension that settled was intoxicating. almost clear to the human eye. his head was lowered in the crevice of your neck with his hands sternly planted on the door along either side of your head. his coarse breaths danced along the flesh of your neck, goosebumps decorating your skin as you attempted to grasp what had happened. you had no idea what was going on, let alone what was pulsating between his legs. your cluelessness would indefinitely be the death of Sukuna, a crumpled sigh falling off his tongue.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"Suku-"

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"can i kiss you?" four simple words. four simple fucking words, they were the same ones you would’ve never guessed your literal rival would utter in your presence, let alone to you. was he out of his mind? what he going through a mental episode? maybe he also took a sip from your tumbler and was riding some sort of high as well. there’s no possible way he was serious.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀and yet, you still said yes. somehow, your brain that only ever saw him as the guy you wanted to beat. the guy who you would do anything just to have the hierarchy and be able to say you beat him in something. anything. you still found yourself crumbling beneath him much like you always did. falling victim to him once more, however this time it was your own fault. you obediently said yes without a second thought. without thinking how it’d look if the girl who only ever raved about beating the infamous Sukuna Itadori, succumbed to his berating charm and was another one of his girls of the week.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀you were utterly disgusted with yourself. but oh how sweet he tasted. his plump lips were immediately attached to your own with his large hands savagely coating your biceps, your hands rendering against his solid chest that rose with each passionate movement he made along your mouth.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀you were tall for a woman, standing perfectly at 5’7. though, compared to Sukuna’s 6’7, you were merely a mouse to a lion. his ginormous figure towered over you in every aspect, broad chest cornering you against the door with his head trapping you beneath him.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀he tasted like sweet cinnamon bark chipping onto lavender flowers, each petal melting against your tastebuds every time his tongue skimmed the tissue of yours. it was eradicating. every sense you thought you once had was entirely overwhelmed by him and his aroma, suffocating the oxygen you desperately craved for in between sloppy kisses.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀how could you let your first kiss be stripped from you by the man you swore you hated. the man that took every chance he got at provoking and taunting you with his intelligence. who got off to seeing your anger rise each time you glanced at his scored test papers. unbeknownst to the fact he only ever did such things so you’d look at him, let alone acknowledge his presence.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀despite wanting to push him off you and yell at him for thinking he could toy with you like some whore on the street, all you could really do was pathetically melt under his deathly grip. your lips subconsciously synced with his all the while you miserably pawed at his chest, slender digits attempting to undo the buttons that barricaded his immense chest.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"impatient, r’ya, princess?" you mewled at how easily the nickname slipped from his tongue, as if he weren’t just calling you a brat for god knows how long.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀his words murmured against your lips, deep-husked voice littering your once smooth skin in nothing but even more goosebumps. the assertion gave you room to breathe alas, whimpered heaves exasperating from your quivering-swollen lips. he watched in utter delight at how heated he could feel you were, how your chest rose just as much as his did with your glossy eyes barely being able to make contact with his hunger-filled ones.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀you were twenty-one for crying out loud, and this is how you reacted to your first kiss? oh, was he ecstatic to see just how much you were going to crumble on his dick.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"fuckk .." he groaned out heavily at the sight that displayed before him, aggressive hands reaching for your buttoned-uniform shirt and ripping it apart, practically tearing the seams that sealed your body away from his demeaning gaze. the action broke you from your train of thought, eyes shooting up at his with your hands failing to cover the sweet treats you hid from everyone with that embarrassingly tight uniform top.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"tch, don’t hide from me, brat." he scoffed out, grabbing your gentle wrists and using one hand to pin them above your head, back straightening from the unexpected position he forced upon you.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀you didn’t have the guts to face him, not when you were completely vulnerable in front of him. your breasts that fought at the seams of your pink laced bra was the first thing that his eyes wandered to, seeing exactly how large they were and how small that damn coverage was. how could you possibly be so stupid to buy a size smaller than what you were?

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀snapping your head to the side, you closed your eyes with trembling breaths dripping from your sore lips. anyone could see just how much lust fueled Sukuna’s crimson gaze as he admired you. saliva pooled his sealed mouth, tongue dragging across the skim of his lips with his teeth chewing the inside of his gums. he just wanted to ravage every inch of your body, tainting your beautiful skin in his bite marks so everyone and their fucking mother that attended this godforsaken campus would know who exactly took you first. who adulterated your gorgeous figure and molded that soaking cunt to shape his dick, and his alone.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"can .. can i touch you?" a small head nod followed swiftly after, not a single thought behind your actions, just pure, raw ardor.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀his movements were tender and sweet, at first. but once his large palm grasped the entirety of one of your breasts, he kneaded it with nothing but genuine hunger. his lips attacked yours once more, synchronizing his actions as you puttered soft moans into his mouth, the man swallowing them each time his tongue explored your walls.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀the way his thick digits seeped into the flesh of your breast was unlike anything you’ve ever been able to fondle on yourself. he was skilled, obviously; his hand gripping you with the perfect amount of aggression that had you squirming under his touch. it only got worse when his fingertips trapped your nipple between his pads, rolling the two over one another to create the perfect amount of friction that he needed from you.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"p—please .. oh-shit, please .. just fuck me, Suku—" the way your beautifully doe-glossed eyes peered up at him had the man ready to risk everything. ready to bend you over that damn sink and fuck the daylights out of you, so the only sensible, coherent thing you’d be able to utter was “fuck me, Sukuna”.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"be a good girl and be patient, i wanna explore every crevice of this fucking body of yours," he hushed you up with ease, showering you in kitten kisses that trailed all the way down your neck, his lips latching onto your skin once he made contact with your throat.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀with your bra now tossed onto the floor, chest entirely exposed for Sukuna’s deranged eyes, his calloused hand traveled down your body. over the ridges of your waist line and through the folds of your skirt. the lower he went, the higher your breath hitched in the depths of your throat, shaky heaves fanning his ear. he gently shushed you, his fingers now dancing along the fiery skin of your thigh. you knew you were soaked down there. he knew you were soaked down there. just from how tediously your legs trembled the moment he touched them, it was as clear as day. you weren’t hiding it, especially when you tried clamping your thighs closed the moment his nails even grazed your flesh.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"don’t hide, princess. s’okay, i promise to be gentle," he cooed in your ear, hissing at his finger looping around the drenched fabric of your underwear. the textured surface drove him crazy, how you were already sopping with him merely just touching you. it was pathetic, but god how he loved it so much.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀he loved how it was him that caused such a reaction from you. how just the thought of him, and his touch against your perfect skin had you already creaming your underwear. it’s exactly what he wanted. for you to only give such a reaction created by him and no one else. just thinking about some other loser being in his place enraged him to the fullest. he couldn’t imagine anyone else taking your firsts, let alone stuffing your tight hole with their dick that probably wasn’t even close to being the same size as his.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀the moment his fingers slipped between your folds, you were an entire mess all over again. whimpering moans and squeamish behaviors were the only reaction you could give, Sukuna peering down at you and enjoying every second of it. he teased and taunted your clit with each glide he passed through your slit, his nose grazing your own as tears now coaxed your entire face. the sight had his back muscles tensing, dick throbbing in his pants as he toyed with you more. if this is how you reacted to simply being touched, oh he really couldn’t wait.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀it took every fiber of his being to restrain himself against you, knowing that you’ve never had sex, let alone been played with so he couldn’t do anything without hurting you in the process. and, that’s the exact opposite of what his intentions were. he wanted you creaming on his dick, not screaming.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀sputtered cries and grasps at nothing but air were sent Sukuna’s way the second he slipped his fingers in your clenched cunt. fuck, just his two digits alone, you were squeezing the life out of them.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"shh shh, jus’ relax. y’re too tense, gonna hurt yourself clenching so hard" he soothed, littering your neck in even more tender-lined pecks as his grip on your wrists above your head only tightened. all the while you listen so obediently, Sukuna continued to gradually push his fingers inside you. you tried your best to relax, as he said, not wanting it to hurt when all he was trying to do was please you.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀yet, even when relaxed, you were still so fucking tight it turned his mind completely white.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"juss’ like that. good girl," he fanned against your ear, kissing beneath it right as he slowly began to thrust his fingers in and out. gasped moans traveled out of your mouth every time his digits scraped your walls so delicately, hips subconsciously bucking in the midst of him trying to get you used to having something shoved up there.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀you were already a babbled disaster beneath him, legs trembling dearly as Sukuna contained every urge had had to quicken his pace. he knew you weren’t ready, but you just kept on. you continuously bucked your hips against his hand, as if you wanted him to go faster, to roughen the tender pace he had on you. he wanted to go gentle, something he wasn’t entirely fond of, though he knew you were inexperienced and didn’t want to scare or even hurt you from how he could get.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀but you had other plans in mind. because the best thing that the man was even able to coherently understand amidst all the blabbering nothings you muttered was a vague “h-harder”. he knew you were crazy, just from the events that led to this, it was obvious. but he was not expecting you to be this batshit insane.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"Suku— fuckk .. please, please .. fuck me—"

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"shit .. you fuckin’ psycho brat," grumbling beneath his breath, the man listened to your deranged nonsense, quickening his once delicate pace.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀with his lips latched onto your own, he muffled all and every moan you had to offer once his pace roughened. squelches and wet noises could be heard all throughout the bathroom as he abused your desperate cunt, legs growing numb as the sudden action. the only way you were able to even stand up still was from his hand that pressed your wrists onto the door. you were rendered utterly silent, eyes rolling so far back you caught a glimpse of the pearly gates.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀the back of your head slumped against the door, much like your melted figure that seeped into Sukuna’s grasp. his fingers grew used to the feeling of your gummy walls suffocating them the more he pumped your cunt, your first orgasm coating the entirety of his hand already. it was small so it didn’t hit you as hard, but the fact that he continued to thrust his fingers through your climax is what sent you into madness. you were slowly losing yourself the more he led you into your second orgasm. something you’ve never done before.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀because yeah, any normal girl would touch herself and make herself cum, but it was rare that they continued after the first orgasm. and, you happened to be one of the few who could never lead yourself to a second, always far too sensitive after the first.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀cries squealed through your once sealed lips, his persistence to make you cum as much as possible causing you to break your silence. however, even with your poetic noises clogging his senses, his pace never once faltered. rather, it increased and was already leading you to your second orgasm, legs now visibly twitching and unable to hold your body up anymore.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀right before you could officially release onto his hand once more, he dropped everything and lowered himself to his knees, catching your juiced on his tongue that slipped easily through your folds. his lips hooked onto your clit the moment he did so, arms curling over your thighs so you sat along his shoulders. within a blink of an eye you were spilling all over his tongue with your pleading hands kneading at his pink hair, cries of mercy tumbling from your lips all the while. though, even then, your actions were rendered useless as he proceeded to use his mouth to edge a third orgasm from your beaten body.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"S—Suku .. please! I-I can’t, I can’t .. wait, wait-" you sobbed through heavy tears, the man far too lost in the goal of making you cum to even begin to listen to your wails.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀he had nothing to say in response, using his mouth to get his point across that he didn’t care. that he was going to make you coat every aspect of him in your juices. you couldn’t help but think if this is how he was with all the other women he hooked up with daily. if he was so stubborn to make them cum as much as he was you.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀and, to proudly answer that, he’d honestly admit that no, he most definitely did not. he could barely tolerate their voices, let alone the taste of them. he simply fucked them, nothing more nothing less. that’s all they wanted him for anyways, so why would he waste his time doing more for people he could care less about?

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀but you? oh, you were an entirely different case.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀with you, he wanted all of it. he wanted to feel just how tight you were. just how sweet you tasted. to caress every inch of your ass, and body. to milk you dry, even. he wanted to devour you and leave you so high off his touch that even when alone in your dorm you’d probably touch yourself simply thinking about this interaction you had with him. he wanted to leave you craving for him as much as he craved for you. to have you feeling just how much of a mess you made him without even trying.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀his tongue did wonders against your aching hole, lapping your juices against his tastebuds before soaking up every last droplet that tainted your inner thighs. taking advantage of his position, the man made sure to leave his teeth marks engraved into your skin, his palms firmly pressing against your lower abdomen to stop you from squirming so much. he did love how his actions earned such a reaction, but he didn’t want you hurting yourself from too much carelessness. at least not anymore than you already have.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀sobs and disheveled breaths hiccuped from your throat, hazed eyes slowly losing yourself to all the intensity that was thrown at you in less than ten minutes. you didn’t know how much longer you could go, but you definitely didn’t want him stopping anytime soon. it all felt so fucking good, it left your mind unable to do anything but cloud with nothingness.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀the tingling commotion that left your legs completely numb had traveled it’s way up to your arms, fingers barely able to rake through his curls without twitching every few seconds. your words had become entirely slurred, vaguely incoherent with each word you puttered through your heavy lips.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Sukuna was enthralled by every passing second he spent between your legs, marking his territory almost with how he repeatedly stabbed your flesh with his sharp teeth. you had no recollection or feeling in your legs to be able to stop him, allowing the man to claim you as his own as if he wasn’t just blabbering on about how annoying you were the day prior. the duality would not only just kill a victorian child, but also slaughter an entire bloodline.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"shit, y’taste so fuckin’ good," he groaned into your core, the deep rumbles that bore from his chest vibrating against your bundle of nerves and earning yet another sweet sweet moan from you. the kind he longed for. yearned, even.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀he slurped up your slick liquids as if he’d been deprived of food for months, maybe even years. which, to some extent, he has. he’s been lusting over you since your freshman year. not a day had gone by where he wasn’t thinking about you, every inch of your body, and your beauty.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀in such little time, you had become his primary thought bubble. he hadn’t a clue how it happened, nor why. but, now that he alas was shoved between your legs and able to taste just how savory you were, he definitely wasn’t complaining.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Sukuna egged on your third orgasm, not letting a single drop leave his mouth as he sucked and tethered at your clit. it surely was a struggle to contain your trembling legs, the man resorting to standing back up and placing both of his coarse hands along your ass. the sudden action caught you off guard completely, body almost slipping to the floor if he didn’t hoist your aching legs around his torso. though, his movement forced an abrupt sob to drip out of you, his rock hard erection pressing firmly along your cunt.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"o-oh, fuckk .." was blurted from his own mouth at the endurance, not realizing his own actions until your juices were coating the fabric directly over his dick. his hands remain gripping the soft flush of your ass, fingers delving in the longer he held you there.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀you were sure to cream on the spot from how much force was pushed onto you, your back practically molding into the wooden door behind you. Sukuna couldn’t think properly, not in this state at least. all his mind could focus on was how he felt your heartbeat through your cunt that was resting diligently atop his pulsing erection. it was so prominent, so distinct, as if your heart was right there. he couldn’t move, not when his throbbing tip was already leaking with precum. he needed you and he needed you now.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"Sukuna—"

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"please .. just—just one .. one second, fuck" he groaned against the flesh of your ear, your arms gripping the seams of his collar as he pushed his head in the crevice of your neck.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀he wanted to just take a breather before he did anything rash, but his body evidently had other things in mind.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀his hips grinded against yours without warning for either of you. hoarse mewls stammered from each of your mouths due to the friction of the rough material rubbing your sensitive areas just right. it felt wrong. you felt dirty. like you weren’t supposed to be doing such vile things along the fabric of your school attire, but it just felt so fucking good, you couldn’t possibly stop now.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀and you didn’t.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Sukuna continued to curl his hips at yours, loving how his trousers tightened around his dick just enough for it to feel like he was inside of you. and you, you embraced it just as much. you wanted him inside you so bad. even if he was probably far to big to be your first. you didn’t give a fuck. you wanted him and if he was allowed to taste you and edge you to three fucking orgasms, then he would have no choice but to fuck you by the end of this.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀his nails created indents in your ass from how harsh he gripped your body, his palms practically the size of each cheek he caressed dearly. though, you didn’t care, he’d already tainted the rest of your body so your ass was no difference. not like anyone would see it anyways, no one but him.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀despite not having a single ounce of strength left in you, you were able to use a slither of it to pull his face to yours, trapping his lips and syncing your sloppy kisses to his thrusts. once Sukuna caught onto your naughty actions, he quickened his pace, knowing that if he went faster than he’d be able to hear your beautiful noises once again.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀and, that’s exactly what happened. you were halted mid-kiss by an unexpected whimper that ricocheted your throat. it was filled with nothing more than genuine cries, head tossing back against the door whilst your lustrous eyes lazily gazed up at the ceiling above. the once harsh grip you had along his collar had faltered almost immediately. it was humorous to Sukuna how easily you succumbed to his touch against every part of your body. he fucking loved it.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀your legs had alas uncrossed from around his waist, the only thing holding you now being his black painted nails that molded your ass to his hand sizes. with each curl against your freshly exposed cunt, Sukuna hissed in delight all the while you choked up broken moans. the synchronization was soothing, chills creeping up his spine from how brisk you felt.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀before he could get carried away, the man allowed you to release yet another orgasm on him, massaging your thighs through your high. he could tell how worn out you were, it was written all over your damn face. you were a virgin and already on your fourth orgasm during your first sexual interaction.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"p—please .. Suku- please .. just fuck me already," heaved through chopped, aching breaths, you raked your nails down his severely toned abs that could probably crush a watermelon.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀that was his cue. the simple words that he was almost begging you to utter once more just so he’d be able to finally follow through with your repeated pleas.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀hoisting your legs around his waist once more, he led you out of the bathroom finally, after thirty damn minutes. one hand remained in the dip of your lower back whilst his other was scooped beneath your ass, being slowly coating in your slick liquids that dripped from your exposed pussy. though, he surely didn’t mind. he transferred your quivering body back onto the nurses bed he once used to tend your injuries, continuing to knead your tensed thighs so they’d simmer down.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"ya sure ‘bout this, pretty? i don’t wanna hurt you," he reassured for the last time, pad of hjs thumb swiping your fleshed cheek that was hotter than the sun on a mid-summer day. all you did was gaze up at him through the thick of your lashes, doe eyes enticing his entire existence.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀you didn’t care how he did it, you just wanted his dick stuffing you so good that you’d forget every test answer you ever embedded into your thick skull. as crazy as it sounded. you probably seemed so pathetic for thinking such a thing, but when a woman has gone twenty-one years without ever being touched so sensually, and she finally gets a taste of it crashed into her like a semi-truck, of course she’s going to sound deranged.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀you didn’t even answer him, your hands immediately latching to his pants as you began unbuckling his belt. you fumbled with it a bit, Sukuna allowing a low, deviated chuckle to rumble along his chest whilst he moved your hands aside to do it himself. your eagerness was humorous, the man getting a kick out of it as he stripped his lower body to nothing but raw nudity. his pants pooled at the rim of his ankles, black boxers laying softly atop them. to say you were stun-ridden would indefinitely be a damn understatement as you tried to fully grasp his size.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀sure, you’ve seen some poorly executed porno’s with guys who had long dicks. some even had thicker ones that weren’t as long, but their girth and how they stretched the girl out made up for it inevitably.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀however, never once have you seen one that was not only long, but also broad. his tip alone rendered you into utter silence, the white ropes of precum decorating his reddened head. though, what had chills dancing along your spine was the sight of how he extended to his belly button, and his base only got thicker the lower down your eyes traveled. arrogant and humored, the man taunted you with a snarky expression;

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"careful now, y’might catch flies, princess," his thumb gliding across the skim of your bottom lip after he layered it in his seed. he gently slipped it through your agaped mouth, softly closing your lips around his knuckle with his opposite hand slowly pushing you against the flat of the bed.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀you couldn’t even process the fact that he made you taste his cum from how awe-struck his size left you. let alone him spreading your legs open and watching as your lower abdomen trembled in between each shaky breathe. what did break you from your daze was when a slap was sent to your wide-open cunt that was on full display for him, your back arching off the bed with tethered cries mewling out all the while.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀you couldn’t even close you legs to stop him, his stern grip pinning one of them to the bed with his waist stopping your other from moving. all you could do was try and reach your hands to cover yourself, but he took that as an initiative to grip your wrists with both of his overly large hands. gazing down at your sweets, he aligned his base with your clit, his dick laying atop your stomach so he could measure just how deep he’d be hitting you. now you were completely rendered defenseless, his grasp on your wrists never once faltering.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀once he was satisfied with the results, he tossed one of your wrists into his opposite hand while adjusting his tip between your deathly sopping folds. oh how he wanted to bottom out in you at this very instant, the urge eating away every second that painfully passed by. he couldn’t. not yet, at least. you weren’t ready and he didn’t want to ruin anything after spending all that time getting you ready.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀after grabbing your wrist again, he, very slowly and tediously gently, started sinking himself through your walls. each time you made any sort of high pitched noise he stopped, trailing circles with his thumbs against your abdomen; feeling just how much your body quivered. your mind drew blanks, vision going in and out from how much he stretched you out with his tip alone. it was euphoric, ecstatic even. you’ve never (willingly) taken drugs, but this is how you imagined the feeling people described when they were riding cloud nine.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀your unhinged jaw hung open desperately, toes curling with each vein he gradually dragged so rigidly along your delicious gummy walls. you had no ounce of energy to cry out. whimper, let alone moan. all you could do was let him continue to shape your cunt, to mold you into the perfect cocksleeve for him and him alone. it was something you were never expecting, but surely weren’t protesting now that he wore your body out so deliberately.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀he was trying his best to be as cautious as he could, fighting every senseless urge that pulled at his strings the deeper he sunk into you. it was so fucking tiring, especially when your desperate cunt kept sucking him in deeper each passing moment.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀yet, when it was all said and done, and his tip was practically kissing your womb, his shoulders alas settled with a groaned sigh following close behind. now that he finally got what he wanted, what he’d been impatiently waiting for since your first year, he hadn’t a clue what to do. he was so used to the women taking over and fucking themselves on him, already used to his size and using it how they saw fit. he never in his wildest dreams would’ve thought he’d finally be able to get at you, let alone be so painfully deep inside you that it rendered him, the great Sukuna Itadori, silent.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀if there were a day for miracles, it’d surely be today.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"holy- .. shit. fuckin’ hell, Y/N .." how he uttered your name in that oh so needy tone drove you crazy, clenching around him and causing Sukuna to immediately tighten his grasp on your wrists.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀all he raved about was how you sounded, but jesus fucking christ did he sound so goddamn sexy saying yours in that teasingly needy voice that he tried so hard to make scornful. his girth pulsed in the depths of your cunt, his rugged and torn heaves being forced through his nostrils whilst he attempted to collect his jumbled thoughts.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀he led your wrists back up to your head, his earth shattering grip still cutting all blood circulation from them. sturdily planting the back of your hands to the mattress below, along either side of your head, Sukuna brought his own to the slithered opening of your neck, fanning his fragile breaths against your goosebump-covered neck.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀slow and steady, agonizingly cautious, the man began rocking his hips into your own. each stroke, every whimpered moan, all of it had Sukuna’s mind seeing stars. the moon. possibly the entire fucking galaxy with how completely undone he became. his head continued to knead into your shoulder, puttered lips whispered sweet nothings against your tattered skin that he decorated so rigidly. it hurt, your entire body could feel that fact all too well. you knew it’d hurt, just weren’t expecting how much though. with how your friends described their first times, you were expecting a paper cut, not to be ran over three times. your core was burning implacably, inner thighs so ungodly sore that you weren’t sure how you’d have the energy to walk once he was done with you.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀however, with each tender word he cooed in your ear, you slowly melted beneath his touch, seeping into the mattress and feeling every last vein that scraped your walls so vigorously. you could barely open your eyes for that matter, gaze entirely fixated on the ceiling lights that hung above, thick lashes coating your droused vision.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀the pain that once surged your every thought had simmered into nothing but euphoric rapture, tears glossing your [E/C] eyes so tenderly. your hands were grasping at straws, unable to get a hold on anything, let alone move with how Sukuna buried them into the surface.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀slow sex was definitely not on Sukuna’s bucket list for the year, let alone sex with you. and he was unsure how to feel about it. because yes, it had the pleasure dispersing to every inch of his sole being, but it also fueled his desire to ultimately ram your cunt broken. the endurance only caused his back muscles to tear at the seams of his uniform, solid chest pressing into your own as he suppressed any vulgar thoughts.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀it were as if the gods above had heard his yearning, his unspoken pleas that lingered his mind. because the next coherent word he could make out from your lips was a small “faster .. please-" that sputtered out.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀it was at lightning speed that he swiftly hovered himself above, capturing the perfect display of your sprawled upper body beneath him. his hands pawed at your biceps and curled around them with a hefty grip. he wanted to steady himself before he hurt you in any possible way, already a bit uneased by his careless decision of going in raw.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀you had no time to react, no time to possibly even grasp the fact that he had released your wrists from his death grip. not before he was plunging his swollen tip at the entrance of your womb, repeatedly with harsh grunts weaved into each movement. that’s when you saw stars. that was when you could no longer speak properly, let alone even think about anything other than listening to the sounds of your own pussy squelching and squeaking every time he bottomed out and his balls slapped against your ass. your mouth moved in an attempt to speak, but no words, let alone noises, were to be heard. you were like a broken wind up toy; moving without sound.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"fuck .. y’re so goddamn tight, pretty," Sukuna groaned out desperately, a scoff finding its way into his words that overlapped the boisterous noises your cunt shouted out.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀your hazed eyes were now drenched in tears, hiccups slipping past your lips after each thrust he shoved down your walls. your skirt rode up your ass, exposing it to the sticky material you laid upon. both of your bodies were covered in sweat from head to toe, though the adrenaline had you thinking you were as dry as a baby. it was a crazed mixture of feelings, yet they all had you more deluded than a fangirl.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀no matter how much you relaxed, how many times you soothed your walls, you still clenched him so perfectly he swore he was going to cum already. which, he definitely was. his entire focus was fixated on trying not to decorate your walls. not yet, at least. he wanted to cum with you on your fifth high, his quick pace easily leading you to it thoroughly.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀the silence that once washed over your entire body had been forcefully broken when he decided curled his hips at just that right angle that hit a spot so deep, so so fucking sweet, it had you crying out for him to continue. your nails grazed at the skin of his wrists, moans proclaiming his aggressive moves. mewled cries exerting your quavering lips, encouraging his robust actions that only increased with every whimper you threw at him.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀each time Sukuna slid himself through your aching cervix, he watched his bulge poke through your abdomen, pleased with the fact that no one else could do such things to you but him. that even if such an interaction with him were to awaken a side of you, and you ended up with another guy, he’d never be able to leave his dick print on you like Sukuna did. he was comfortable in his size, much of an arrogant high school cheerleader.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀the man obliged by every last plea you threw at him, subconsciously leading both of you to your destined climaxes. he wanted to hit his high with you, and if he continued his actions thoroughly, he’d get what he craved so desperately for.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"S—Suku, fuckk— i-i’m gonna come .. please!"

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀you had no idea how much of an impact you had on the disheveled man. he never planned on being such a known fuckboy on campus, but when you were too painfully fucking clueless to his advances when school first started, he accepted his fate and used his body to drown himself in the sorrows. he didn’t know how your relationship would be after today, but what he did know was that it sure as hell wouldn’t be the last time he was balls deep in your throbbing pussy.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"s-shit .. ya takin’ me so well, princess," he yearned, gruffs tumbling out after his breathless assertion.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"this is mine, ya understand? .. don’ wanna see no other guy near you. not even my. shitty. little. brother," with each exasperated word he huffed out, he made sure to hit you so hard, so fucking deep, that you understood every damn syllable of his demand.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"Y-Yes, yes! please, .. oh— fuck! yes, o-ok. ok!" sobs and down right hysteria blurted from your crumbling lips, cunt aching pathetically as he abused ever last inch of it. Sukuna made sure he molded you like the perfect little sculpture you were, shaping you to suit him with raw ease. emphasis on the raw.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀with one last full length thrust, you both had equally hit the highs you practically clawed each other for. the climax that had your entire body twitching from head to toe whilst your eyes struggled to stay open. his thick, crystalline seed painted your walls so white it’d seem like a brand new room. it was so much, so fucking much, that he had pent up for so long he couldn’t possibly stop himself even if he wanted to.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀his hands that had now engraved his grip into the flesh of your biceps traveled down to your thighs, kneading them through your high so you weren’t so timid. it definitely did help, prattled breaths dripping from your tongue through the entirety of it. his were likewise weaved into yours, his chest riding every so often all the while he watched how your mixed juices spilled from your pussy, trickling in a pool along the edge of the mattress.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀with a lazy huff and pulling himself from inside you, the man slowly reached down to you and scooped your back into his grasp; uttering a vague "c’mon, pretty, lets get you cleaned up,"

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ “wanna fill you up s’fuckin’ much, pretty,”

© 𝐘𝓤𝐌𝓘𝐒𝐓𝐑 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐃𝐔𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑⠀𝜗ϱ⠀mature discretion advised. all rights reserved. do not plagiarize or steal works.

[sucker4colby]

Parties over: Part 2

Summary : Colby’s in the doghouse after forgetting his girlfriends birthday to hang out with amber. He has to knock down the wall she built around herself.

Warning : angst , jealousy , insecurity, cussing

Pairing: Colby Brock x female reader

Part 1

It took me a moment to be able to tear my gaze away from my reflection and to stop criticizing everything I saw. I had to accept today was going to be one of those where I wasn’t comfortable in my own skin so I just made my way downstairs after changing into shorts and a knitted sweater hoping I wouldn’t see the blue eyed boy I was upset with.

Unfortunately for me he sat at the island eating a bowl of cereal in his own world as our friends did their own thing around him. I noticed how his hair was unruly and he looked tired as If he didn’t sleep last night. My eyes snapped away from him as Sam called out my name. “ there’s breakfast over on the counter if you want some.” The blonde boy pointed over his shoulder at the counter where a stack of waffles resided. I could see Colby’s head snap up from the corner of my eyes to look at me as his friend announced my presence but I avoided looking at him knowing I’d break on the spot to look at him. I smiled at Sam muttering a thank you as I made my way over to the food.

I heard his chair scrape against the floor as he hurriedly walked over to me stopping me from taking a plate . “ I can get your food.” Colby offered grabbing the plate I was reaching for looking down at me. Anger bubbled up inside of me and I glared at him. “ I’m not hungry anymore thanks.” I spat spinning on my heels and walking away from the prying eyes of our friends. He was just going to act like he didn’t blow me off on my birthday to be with another woman and I sure as hell wasn’t going to let that slide.

I might overreacted but If I wasn’t important enough why did he keep the act up, why not just rip the bandage off and break up with me. I sighed walking into the living room to see the mess from last night, cups ,trash bottles of liquor littered every surface. Grabbing a trash bag from the cabinet I began picking up hoping to get a head start before everyone came to help out.

I know he was standing there trying to figure out how to approach me but I couldn’t bring myself to ask him what he needed so I just pretended he wasn’t there. It was a difficult task to do when his blue eyes felt like they were burning a hole in my skin, I could see the distraught look on his face and it hurt my heart but he was the one who messed up.

Finally he cleared his throat to announce his presence as if I didn’t already know, it was hard not know when you’ve memorized the sound of his footsteps and when his presence filled up the whole room. I looked up to meet his sad eyes quirking an eyebrow up at him. “ I have something for you.” He told me in a small voice and brought his hands out in front of him presenting a small black box. I could see him deflect more as he noticed I wasn’t changing my stoic composure towards him. “ I also ordered you a cake from that bakery you like, I know you wanted one of those for your birthday.” He rambled only making me more upset. I hated that I couldn’t stay angry at him, was I really that smitten over him that I’d roll over and act like nothing happened just because it was him.

“ yeah for my birthday Colby.. which was yesterday had you of cared enough you would’ve remembered but how could you ? You were a bit …preoccupied.” I spat out the last word throwing the trash bag on the couch moving past him to go cool off in my room.

I threw myself on the bed and cried wishing my comforter would just hide me away from everything. He was probably trying to be nice so he wouldn’t feel bad once he left me for amber. My chest burned with jealousy at the thought of him doing everything I wanted of him for her, why wasn’t I good enough for him, He was everything for me and maybe that was the problem. I had to make it easier on both of us and end things myself because I know he wouldn’t do it.

I didn’t hear my door open or close but I noticed my bed dip making me wipe my eyes and look out from under cover. I cried even harder once I saw Colby sitting next me. He had tears in his eyes as well as he moved to put me on his lap, I didn’t try to fight him because this is probably the last time I’ll get to be in his arms. I wanted to memorize everything about him before I lost him.

“Baby I’m so sorry, I was a dumbass, I promise I didn’t mean to forget I just had to much on my plate and I got my days mixed up.” He sniffled setting his cheek on my head and caressing my leg knowing that calmed me down. “Do you not love me anymore?" I asked looking down at my lap picking at the loose thread on my knitted sweater. I felt like I could throw up waiting for him to answer me. "What ?" He asked me I could feel the bed shift under his weight as he turned to face me.

My face heated up at having to repeat my previous statement. I was embarrassed I had to ask him if he still loved me , if he did I wouldn't have to ask and save myself the heartache. " if you don't that's ok, i just.. I feel like I should know if you don't love me anymore, no one should be in a relationship without love." I mumbled my voice cracking as I tried to stop myself from crying even more. I could feel the tears pooling at my waterline even more as I tried to stop myself causing me to grow frustrated with myself . I put my hands over my face shielding my face from his view as my body shook after each sob.

“ baby I love you so much it hurts, I’m so sorry I made you feel like this. I’m sorry I made you doubt my love for you.” He whimpered rocking us back and forth holding me tighter to his body. “ I love you so so much, I was looking forward to yesterdays date because that’s the day my love was born, I should’ve been here but I promise I’ll make it up to you now.” He whispered kissing the crown of my head and I wrapped my arms around him. My heart softening “ I could never love anyone the way I love you, I can’t imagine getting so excited to come home to someone that isn’t you, you’re my favorite part of everyday and I don’t ever want to lose that.” His words slowly eased my worries.

I felt horrible because Colby wasn’t a bad person and he’d never intentionally hurt someone. I was so insecure I forgot how kind hearted and pure he was, That’s why I fell in love with him in the first place. I was caught up in my head I almost him because I was being childish. “ I’m sorry, I overreacted.” I hiccuped into his neck as I hugged him close to my body. He let out a small laugh rubbing circles on my back under my sweater. “ I think you under-reacted, I thought I was done for.” He told me causing me to giggle. “ I’m really sorry baby I know you were looking forward to your birthday.” He apologized again leaning back to look at me. I sat back on his lap to look at him. “ I just wanted to be with you, but you’re here now and that’s all I care about.” I told him making sure he knew I just wanted him.

He smiled and placed a kiss on my lips causing a smile to grow on my face. “ that one’s because I’m sorry and these are because you turned 23.” He said before attacking my face with kisses causing me to laugh as he counted each kiss. He let out a quick oh reaching over the bed to retrieve the same black box he had shown me earlier passing it over to me. I shot him a questioning look taking the small box and opening it. My eyes started watering again and I let out a small gasp at the small necklace that rested inside. “ I chose this out a while back and I wanted something you could wear everyday.” He explained taking it out of my hands and moving my hair to the side, I moved on his lap so he could clip it on. “ thank you, I love it.” I told him as he placed a delicate kiss on my expose shoulder where my sweater started slipping off. “ I love you .” He mumbled wrapping his arms around my again pulling my into his chest. I exhaled in relief leaning back and taking comfort in his warmth knowing we’d be ok, I had fallen in love with the sweetest soul and as perfect as he was he was only human, he was bound to make mistakes.

—————

Part 2 guys !!!

I hope you enjoyed it. I almost made them break up but I just couldn’t bring myself to make Colby the bad guy 🥲

Let me know what you guys think !!!

[marlynnofmany]

Not A Pest

I kept a hand on the pallet of boxes on the hoversled, making sure it didn't wobble while Blip and Blop pushed it up the ramp. It was all held in place solidly enough by high-tech netting much fancier than the kind we used, and I didn't need to worry much. So when we reached the cargo bay and Zhee called for my assistance back on the ground, I didn't feel bad about leaving the Frillians to finish loading it. They were strong enough to muscle anything into place if needed anyway. 

“What's up?” I asked as I trotted back down the ramp.

“Thought you might weigh in on their pest problem before we go,” Zhee said with a twitch of his antennae towards the clients whose stuff we were delivering. More Frillians today: not as beefy as Blip and Blop, but with waving frills everywhere that just made Zhee look like a praying mantis among flowers. He also looked smug, but that was nothing new. “I mentioned an animal expert, and they mentioned payment,” he told me.

I came to a stop beside him. “You know I don't know everything, right? Just putting that out there. My vet training was on Earth.” 

“Yes yes, I gave them the disclaimers,” Zhee said. 

The client in front, a tall female with colors like a Siamese Fighting Fish, said, “That’s better than anyone on our ship has. Something's getting into boxes in our cargo hold, and we can't find it. Tore into some food and made a mess of the animal fibers.” 

The shorter male behind her in salmon-peach tones held out a lumpy handful of what looked like brown wool. "My guess is it's making a nest somewhere, but it's being wasteful with the stuff too. Tangled it up something fierce."

My response died on my lips as I got a good look at it. Among the stray fibers was the exact shape of a teddy bear. 

“Can I see that?” I asked. 

He handed it over. I plucked off the extra bits and yes, it was definitely meant to be a teddy bear, made by hand from the wool in the cargo hold. There were even little twists for eyes.

I looked up at them. “You don’t have a pest. You have a stowaway.”

They blustered and pooh-poohed the idea: nonsense, how could there possibly be an intelligent creature onboard without their knowledge?

“We’ve been in space a long time,” said the tall one. “Only stopping at uninhabited locations for resources.”

“And at the—” put in the pink one, then stopped at a sharp look from his teammate.

I wasn’t about to let that go. “The what?” I asked.

The tall one sighed. “We salvaged some fuel from a wreck,” she admitted. “But there was no one on it. We checked. And with the tow ship we saw in the distance, it seemed likely enough that the owner had jetted away in a life preserver rather than sticking around. It was a single-person ship.”

Somebody else piped up from between the many crates in their cargo hold. “It couldn’t be a person! There’s nowhere big enough to hide!”

I held up the teddy bear. “This is a child’s toy from my planet.” I looked up at the maze of pipes on the ceiling. “And my people like to climb.”

Zhee was being smug behind me while I made a quick circuit of the room, looking for likely spots. One corner was particularly dark, and it had a series of crates below the pipes, stacked into a perfect ramp. I flashed back to the time a litter of kittens had found a similar hidey-hole on my own ship. This spaceship was made by a different group of aliens altogether, but they never seemed to expect anyone to pay attention to nooks and crannies in the ceiling.

“Hello?” I called, climbing onto the first crate with the wool bear in hand. “Anybody up there?” I continued in every language I knew greetings in, which included the galaxy’s favorite trade language (which I knew well), several minor trade languages (which I did not), and a smattering of languages from Earth (which I knew not at all), plus English. Despite my efforts, I didn’t hear a thing until I got all the way to the top.

“Jambo?” I tried, peering into the dark crevice. “Uh, sprechen sie deutsch?” I held out the wool bear. “Is this yours?”

A quiet gasp echoed off the pipes, then two small arms reached out to grab the bear. With further coaxing, the girl clambered forward to where I could see her: dark skin, wide eyes, artfully braided hair, and clothes that looked fancy, if very dusty. I’m not great at kid ages, but she was young. Old enough to push buttons on her parents’ spaceship maybe, not old enough to steer.

I still didn’t know what language she spoke, but it was hard to go wrong with body language. I held out my arms for a hug. “Want to go home?”

She sniffled and climbed forward into the embrace, clinging tight. That made it a bit of a challenge to get back down to floor level, but I managed. A crowd of Frillians and one smug Mesmer waited there.

“See?” Zhee said to the tall Frillian. “Exactly the animal expert you needed.”

I shook my head in amusement. “For all the wrong reasons, you’re exactly right.” The girl didn’t want to be put down, so I hoisted her onto one hip and stood carefully. “How far away was that crash site? Can you send a message to the planet or station the tow ship came from?”

“Yeah, we’re on it,” the tall Frillian said, her frills flattened in what might have been shame. She directed a couple of the others to do that, and also to gather the fuel they’d scavenged.

Zhee cheered her up with talk of a probable finder’s fee. “Humans get very attached to their offspring,” he said. “There is a strong chance this one’s parents are already advertising a reward.”

While they talked money (and Zhee got our ship that promised fee for pest control), someone with sense arrived with a bottle of water and questions about what food would be suitable.

The girl drank the water eagerly, not letting go of her bear, and didn’t answer any of my questions about food allergies. She accepted some protein cubes and chewed them with determination.

By then, a reply had already come from the nearest space station, and a ship was on the way. Full of authority figures and very anxious parents, by the sounds of it.

While the Frillians discussed that and the little kid quietly refused to be put down, Zhee held up his communicator so I could talk to Captain Sunlight back on our ship. Zhee had already explained the situation.

The captain asked me, “How long do they expect until arrival?”

“I think they said about half an hour,” I said. “Hopefully that won’t put us behind schedule.”

“No, we’ll be fine,” she said. “Given that the young one is so taken with you, we might as well stay to make sure everything gets resolved. Does she need to visit the medical bay?”

“I don’t think so. She hasn’t said anything yet, but she doesn’t look injured. Couldn’t hurt to give her a once-over with the hand scanner just in case. We’ve got time.” I looked down at her thoughtfully, then had a bright idea. “And I bet she’d love to meet Telly. After we check her for allergies, of course.”

The captain agreed that was a fine idea. Zhee took over the conversation while I asked the girl, in a mix of Earth languages and pantomime, if she wanted to see my cat.

Her eyes lit up and she started talking in a spill of words that I didn’t catch in the slightest. Spanish, maybe French? Portuguese? Ah, it didn’t matter. The language of kitty ears and “meow meow” is almost as universally recognized as hugs. We walked from one ship to another, and waited for her parents in the company of a medical scanner, human food, and a very friendly cat.

~~~

These are the ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book.

Shared early on Patreon! There’s even a free tier to get them on the same day as the rest of the world.

The sequel novel is in progress (and will include characters from these stories. I hadn’t thought all of them up when I wrote the first book, but they’re too much fun to leave out of the second).

[autumnleaves1991-blog]

Will Miller coming back from that last mission to his lady being so desperate and thirsty for her and her giving him exactly what he needs. Desperate, loving and smutty goodness please.

Thank you so much for sending an ask, lovelie! I hope you enjoy!

Pairing: William Ironhead Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: 18 + explicit smut, pinv, it's thirsty thursday.

“I’m home,” the duffle drops with a thud on the floor of your shared home. The lightning and thunder crash, illuminating the house, and your figure slumped on the couch where you’d been parked for five days. Pizza boxes and takeout containers litter the floor and you stumble to your feet, reaching out a hand towards him.

He’s different. But oh so familiar.

The tears fall as you press a palm gently to his cheek, “where the fuck were you?” Your voice is hoarse and scratchy from disuse, “I called you over and over again, and the guys and no one answered. Jesus Christ Will I thought you were dead.”

The words you had not dared utter aloud to this moment falls from your lips. “I-“ you put a hand to your chest, the tears coming more forceful now, “I thought you died, Will.”

He reaches for you, wrapping you up in a strong hug. He feels so warm, and real and you inhale a sob when he presses his lips to your neck. His lips soft and wet as he starts to suck at your skin.

“I’m alive,” he whispers, repeating it several times till you wonder if he’s not trying to reassure you but himself.

The both of you are in a daze of desperation, tugging the belt from his jeans, and pulling them down as he stumbles toward the couch, sitting down and pulling you down. He lifts your shirt and sucks your nipple through your bra, his hands ripping the fabric of your panties, and pulling you down to straddle his bare cock.

The room goes silent, both of you panting as you squeeze him in your warmth, "fuuuccckkk," he groans, bucking up into you. Will is always in control but you've never seen him like this, unhinged as he snaps his hips and buries himself inside you as deep as he can go. You grab his head and keep his eyes as he continues to fuck up into you, your hips moving without thought to meet him thrust for thrust.

He keeps your eyes as you feel the fire begin to burn inside you, soaking the couch with a silent scream. "So fucking perfect," he grunts, "cum," he commands, "cum again, right fucking now." His thumb slips between you, rubbing your clit almost painfully and your eyes roll back as you feel the pleasure run over you again and again. "That's a good fucking girl," he says desperate, "fuck, this pussy missed me. Not as much as I missed her."

"Tell me," he grabs your neck, your head snapping back as you meet his eyes, "tell me this pussy is mine," he bites down so hard on his lip, the blood dribbles down his chin."

"I'm yours," you gasp, his hand tightening for a brief second, "this pussy is yours baby."

"That's right," he lets go, wrapping his arms around your waist, pinning your arms to your side and pounding into you, "you're mine."

He cums with a groan, the warmth of his cum spilling over your swollen cunt, making a mess between you. But you could care less. You're both quiet, breathes tangling together as he pulls you closer, and your nuzzle into his chest, wrapping your arms around his waist and squeezing, going stock still when he groans in pain.

Instantly you pull back, looking him up and down, “where?”

He drops his head and closes his eyes, “I didn’t want to worry you.”

Your laugh is loud and bitter, “to fucking late, baby. Now show me where.”

He unbuttons his shirt, pulling it off your shoulders and your breath hitches. Blood soaks through the bandages wrapped around his waist, “I got shot,” he opens his eyes, “it went straight through, I’m okay honey.”

“You got shot, Will. You disappeared for five days, and no one knew where you went. Don’t tell me you’re okay.”

"I had one goal," he moves further up the coach and you gasp, his cock moving against your clit from where he's still buried deep inside you. "I was going to get home to you, and I did." His eyes soften as he looks at you, cupping your cheek and brushing off the tears streaming down your cheek. "I love you so much, honey."

"I'm still mad," you shiver as he smiles, butterflies taking off in your tummy, "but I couldn't live without you, Will. I love you too."

"You'll never have too, honey, I promise."

[cameronspecial]

angel anthology with like sad reader or reader wanting a pet dog or cat?

Let Me Make It Up To You, Angel

Pairing: Frat!Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: N/A

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.8K

A/N: Hope you don't mind that I combined the two ideas.

Masterlist

Y/N knows how much Rafe loves his ring collection and she knows he has a certain way of organizing them, so she wanted to surprise him with a new ring organizer. But as she was transferring his rings to the new container she bought, she accidentally knocked his rings all over the floor and now she has no way of knowing how to put them away. Rafe walks into the room, seeing the mess she made. “Y/N, what fucken happen?” he yells, looking at his second most prize possessions littering the floor. “Why are my rings everywhere?!” She had never heard his voice so raised against her. The loudest he has ever been toward her is a joking yell that she was messing up his hair. Tears swell in her eyes, she knows his rings are important to him, but this seems like an overreaction to something that should only mildly upset him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you,” she cries, picking up her bag and leaving for her dorm. 

Now, staring at the empty space, Rafe realizes how wrong his anger was. He just came back from a class and the professor was such an asshole to him. Plus, he is stressed about a fight with his dad, so unfortunately he displaced his anger toward Y/N. He shouldn’t have yelled at her like that. It’s something he’s never done because he would rather stab himself repeatedly than hurt her. His eyes find something on his dresser. It looks like something he’s seen in her jewellery box. He picks it up to investigate and realizes it is a ring organizer. Personalized with his name engraved in gold with a little heart at the end. Guilt fills his stomach making it into a bag of sand. He has to make this right with her. And he knows one thing she would love. 

——

Y/N has been staying in bed for the past few hours. She can’t believe that Rafe hasn’t tried to call her yet and neither can Daisy. Normally, if they get into an argument, Rafe would blow her phone up like crazy. However, it’s been nothing but silence since she left his house. The knock on her dorm door gets her out of bed and she wipes away her tears so she can see the doorknob. She wants to say she is completely upset upon seeing Rafe, but she knows that is a lie. “I don’t know if I want to talk to you if it takes you this long to come to check on me,” she grumbles, walking away from the door yet it remains open. She notices that he stays at the door and this confuses her. He is always trying to get as close to her in private as he can. Not always in a sexual way, but just to be close to her.

“I know it took me hours, but I was doing something for you. As an apology and a thank you for the ring organizer. So please, let me make it up to you, Angel,” he begs. Her curiosity is peaked and she steps closer to the door. He puts his hand up, “Hold on, Angel. Before I give it to you, I want to say I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have taken my stress out on you and I promise to never yell at you like that again.” His eyes are well in fear she won’t forgive him. She doesn’t want to just forgive him like that, but this is the first time he’s done this and she heard from Topper about what happened with his professor. Her arms wrap around his neck to ease his worry, “Okay, but only because you promised never to do it again. Next time your professor stresses you out, you come to me and I’ll give them a talking.” He chuckles at how cute it would be to see her yelling at his old professors. 

“Got it. Now, for your surprise,” he gives her a kiss before breaking away to get her gift. The soft mewling gives away what he got her and before he even gets back, excitement is all over her face. “You got me a cat,” she squeals as he returns with exactly what she wants. He is holding a small orange tabby in his arm. He hands it over to her with a smile, “I knew you would like it. I was thinking you could call her Rafe is an idiot. So I know never to be an idiot again.” She shakes her head at his joke. “No, Rafe. I’m going to name her Tabitha. I’m going to have to keep her in your frat house though. The dorms don’t allow pets.” “That’s the plan, little Tabitha is Alpha Epsilon Pi’s new mascot,” he admires the look in Y/N’s eyes. His hand brushes the fur on the top of Tabitha’s head. He’s so glad that she forgave him because he doesn’t know what he would do if she didn’t.

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia

[nyarumie]

hii dropping by to say i love your works sm !! since you mentioned abt narumi requests, id like to make one :3

how aboutt narumi randomly feeling hungry during his game night and when he goes to find food he sees reader! so they end up making/getting food tgt all domestic and fluffy (if you’re cooking bro is definitely not thinking abt wifing u up uhhhh), feel free to create any setting you’d like for the scenario hihi

(also this might or might not be an excuse for me to ask u to become moots aha)

Food Impact! (Oneshot)

narumi gen x reader — pure fluff, more fluff, and even more fluff! sweet and gentle narumi, established relationship, the kitchen staff are eavesdropping on them, spoiler alert: they made a mess in the kitchen.

Author's Note: Readers, please search up the food name references I included here to get the entire picture of what they're trying to make <3

Author's Reply: hi, rye! I think we're already mutuals (at least, it's what my notif bar says? i know im already following u tho! i love your works too <3 it inspired me to write and post too, to be honest) thank you for this request i totally had fun writing it and helped me with my writer's block (⁠｡⁠･⁠ω⁠･⁠｡⁠)⁠ﾉ id love to interact more too!

Cross-posted on ao3. Ask box is open, and masterlist can be found on my pinned. Have fun reading, everyone!

The sight that greeted Hasegawa has an unusual factor.

Stacked yamazon boxes, check.

Littered cans and bottles, check.

Neglected blankets and pillows, check.

An unbothered Captain on his futon playing his BS5, gone.

Or maybe he's just being dramatic. Narumi is actually there, albeit not stuck in front of his huge ass TV for once. Rather, he's shockingly seated behind his office table, adorning a serious expression while giving his laptop an intense focus.

His Vice Captain is rendered speechless. Was he seeing things? The First Division’s Captain… is actually doing work?

“Hasegawa. What is it? I’m busy here.” he said, hands busy on his laptop.

Oh, he's been staring at him for the past 5 minutes, mouth agape. Regaining his composure, he stated his business. “Your presence is requested for an interview. I believe I sent you the notice first thing in the morning.” But is it right to be disturbing him when he’s finally working—a rarer than once in a blue moon occasion?

“Requested, not required. Don't care, won't care.”

“...Then I’ll ask her to do it in your stead.”

“Don't. She's helping me with my work.”

Sighing, Hasegawa turned around to leave, surprisingly not picking Narumi up like a helpless cat to make him attend the interview.

Once Narumi heard the door click, the corner of his lips turned up, unable to stop the smug, triumphant grin from forming. “Hah, too easy! I’m busy working alright, my ass is practically burning from sitting here all day!”

In truth, the laptop Narumi specifically requested when he was promoted as Captain is a gaming laptop. He had somehow convinced the higher ups that its specifications are far greater than anything most officers can handle and is fitting for his position as Captain. Not that they know what it really is, of course.

He has been playing Jenshin Ympact the moment his office shift started. You had practically begged him yesterday to grind for you, saying that you’ll handle his paperworks worth a week’s job as long as he gets your desired character and weapon. “Why won’t she just top-up on this game? We have all the money to get every single character. What a bummer.”

Not that he understands why you’re willing to shoulder his paperworks over playing a game. Nothing’s enjoyable about paperworks at all! But you complained that your back was hurting from grinding, and who was he to reject such a good offer? That means a grumpy Hasegawa would appear less on his doorstep.

Complaints can be heard from him as he speedruns a side quest, mumbling about how the NPCs are too helpless. “What the… why do most NPCs ask for food here? What kind of adventurer doesn’t bring any food with them?”

Karma seemed to have hit him, his stomach growling too loud for his liking.

Ignoring it, he continued, still insulting every single unimportant character here and there. “Boo. Shut up. Don't like you. Go away. I hope you get eaten by a slime—”

And an even angrier sound came from his stomach.

“Fine! I’ll grab something to eat.”

What he meant by grab something to eat, is grab you to get the both of you something to eat. He refuses to eat anything without you, finding it more enjoyable doing mundane things with you around. His stomach has been empty since morning, wanting to get an early start on his grind.

He sulkily made his way towards your own room, knowing that you've been just as cooped up as him in your respective offices.

Not bothering to knock, he calmly opened the door, instantly finding you still working on his paperworks, desk situated across your door.

His familiar presence caught your attention, eyes lighting up in joy at the sight of him. “Gen! What brings you here? Do you need anything?”

Without a word, he gently grabbed your wrist and pulled you up, making you drop your pen in the process.

Confused, you tried calling him again. “Gen?”

“Mhm… heard you. Just come with me.”

“Alright.” You smiled, his uncharacteristically calm demeanor endearing you. He was often like this with you, as if your very existence is his source of peace.

A comfortable silence lingered as you let him lead you to his your destination. Halfway there, you finally recognized the route to the cafeteria.

‘Oh, he's just hungry.’ you thought. ‘But wouldn't he prefer instant meals or deliveries instead of going all the way here?’

But instead of going straight to the self-service counter, he turned and made his way to the kitchen instead. Wait, are you even allowed there? Sure, he's the Captain, but he's not a cook!

He finally let go of your wrist, unceremoniously opening the large door, earning shocked stares from the kitchen staff and making them pause their job.

You pulled at his sleeve. “Gen—”

“Is there an available cooking station here?” he asked.

The staff looked at each other, obviously baffled. “Uhm, Captain Narumi, sir; there is. But it's at the far end of the Kitchen…” a cook said, pointing towards the station.

“Good. We’ll be using it undisturbed.”

Gen continued making his way forward, with you holding the cuff of his sleeve to ease your nerves. You offered an apologetic look at every person you made eye contact with as you both made your way through. He still hasn't said anything as to why you're here of all places, confusing you further.

He came to an abrupt stop once you reached ‘your’ station. It's time to get to the bottom of this.

“Gen, did you say we'll be using this cooking station? Are we actually cooking?”

He faced you, his arms crossing. Suddenly, he looked a bit bashful. “Yeah. That's what I said.”

Raising your brow, you tried prying more information from him. “And what exactly are we gonna cook?”

“Ahem. So I saw this food while playing Jenshin Ympact…” He pulled out his phone, showing you a screenshot of the food.

Invigorating Kitty Meal.

Giggles threatened to spill from your lips. No wonder he wants to make it yourselves.

He swiped the photo to another screenshot. “And there's this other one. You love mushrooms, I thought you'd want something simple to eat.” Milky Mushroom Crisp Tower. How cute, he was also thinking of you!

“They look pretty fun and easy to make. However… Both of us don't know how to cook, Gen.” you frowned.

“But you just said it looks easy to make. There's two of us, that should be good enough, yeah?” he pouted.

Fondly, you sighed. He’s being too adorable right now, you just can't say no to him. “Alright, we’ll try. If it turns out good, you’ll marry me, won't you?” you joked.

He brightened up at this, pushing his hair back, determined to make his kitty meal. “Consider it done.”

After thoroughly examining the screenshots, you personally approached a few people stationed in the kitchen, asking them which ingredients would best suit your planned meal. With a couple of pieces of advice here and there, you and Gen started to put the plan in motion.

He passes you a rather large bowl full of rice, busying yourself with shaping it to form a cat, filling its inside with mayo tuna. He tasked himself with (trying) to cook the steak while watching the eggs boil, which you doubted at first, earning you a complain from him (‘Hey! You're on the same boat as I am; can't cook, can't question!’)

Cooking the steak is quite the task, so you decided to handle your mushroom toast yourself.

You poorly sliced up the mushroom and tossed it in a small pot filled with a cup of thick cream and easily melted cheese. Not hard at all!

You leave it be and checked on Gen, who you find struggling with not burning the steak. “Need help?”

“I’m fine! It's just that this is totally not beginner friendly, that's all!”

“...Gen, the eggs are overcooked.” A series of curses left his mouth as he hurriedly took them off the boiling water, and his nose scrunched up on the smell of something burning.

“Your mushroom! The heat is turned all the way up!” Now it was your turn to panic.

After a couple of errors from both your ends, it was safe to say that you've finally reached the final task of your newly found skill.

You were carefully carving some seaweed, cheese, and ham as the final touches to his rice kitty’s facial features. Gen was standing behind you, arms wrapped around your waist as he watched your art, humming to himself. He seemed pleased despite the mess you both made.

“Let's cook again someday.” he said.

You snort, “Speaking too soon? You won't say that if this turns out bad.”

“Nahh. Not if I’ll marry you.”

You laugh, taking it as a joke. You feel him perch his head on your shoulder, face turning into a frown. “I wasn't joking! Here, have this.”

He took your hand, putting a seaweed ring on your finger. You giggled again, your heart can't take him sometimes. “I didn't mean to laugh at you. You're being too adorable today! Let's eat these right here before they spoil.”

He looked too sad to see the kitty get devoured, sulking despite how good it surprisingly tasted. And yours wasn't too bad either, glad that you were able to salvage whatever was left from the burnt mushroom sauce.

“ ‘M definitely gonna marry you someday.” he suddenly said.

Your head whipped towards him so fast, only to find him munching on his meal, face serious. “Food so good it got you saying that again?”

He shook his head. “Don't you want me as your husband?” he whined.

You felt your face flush, suddenly aware that he meant what he said. “Go put on a real ring on me first. Then I'll take you as my husband.” you teased.

Looking thoughtful, he hummed. “I can wait just fine. It arrives tomorrow.”

Wait. What?

“What arrives… tomorrow?”

“The ring.” he said, matter-of-factly.

You faced him fully, mouth wide open. He’s dropping this information way too casually!

Sensing your stare, he also turned to look at you, food still in hand. “What? If you're worried about the size, I got it covered.”

“You're crazy. When did you purchase it?”

“Hmm… a couple of weeks ago. When I heard you scolding Hasegawa for disturbing me, saying I needed rest for carrying No. 1’s eyes on a daily basis. No one dares to scold him like that! So I decided to promote you as my wife!” he proudly said.

You tug at the front of his clothes, pulling him closer. “I want to kiss you right now.”

He set his food down, placing his hands on your waist. His eyes seemed to sparkle with mirth. “Then, as the Captain of the First Division, I grant you special permission to kiss me.”

And with that, you closed the distance between you, feeling the both of you smile in your kiss.

Bonus:

Unbeknownst to the both of you, the kitchen staff were eavesdropping the entire time. Who would’ve thought that this is how good their Captain's romantic life is?

You two were so absorbed in your own little bubble, failing to notice the suppressed squeal from a staff that was tasked to spy on you when you kissed. Seems like you forgot there were other people around you.

The staff went back to the others, meeting their expectant gazes. Wordlessly, they gestured their ring finger and acted out a kiss. It was comical, but the message was well-received nonetheless. It became an unspoken rule to keep what happened that night amongst themselves, wanting to respect your and the Captain's joyous moment.

[saerins]

PREV: #002 PLAYING DOMINO 𖧧 #003 THE FIRST RIPPLE 𖧧 NEXT: #004 THIS SPARK, IS IT REAL? ꒰ series masterlist ꒱

꒰ঌꨄ︎໒꒱ — ever since the first meeting, you’ve proven to be an anomaly. and yet again, sae finds himself out of character, doing things he didn’t think he would.

content: itoshi sae x female reader. angst/fluff, profanity, physical/verbal abuse, violence, mentions of infidelity, broken homes, unrequited love, manipulation/gaslighting. word count: 6.7k

༝༚༝༚ more yn and sae for this chapter yay !! ty to all of you who are reading this heh mwah you guys are my motivation <3 let’s hope i keep this pace up so some of you can get the tea faster :p

somehow, the fact that you’d managed to help land an interview with itoshi sae has given you some perks at work. (you’d let sumi take the credit for it, but considering your voice is on the recording, it was hard to deny your involvement.) the best of it all? sumi’s right; mr tatsuji is so absolutely pleased that he barely bothers to visit your department to chide any of you.

that way, at least if your personal life is a mess, your career is not. (for now.)

after three days of staying over at eita’s, you’re finally lugging your feet back home today. besides, he has a date and you’re not about to play third wheel when he inevitably comes home with her.

that’s otoya eita for you.

he insisted that it’s fine and if he really wanted to get some that he’d bring her to a hotel, but you’d really rather not get used to putting up at someone else’s house. especially when, technically, you do have a place to stay.

as you unwillingly (and slowly, painachingly) trudge back to your apartment, you can’t help but revisit your messages with sae. ever since you told him you’d let him follow you if he made a private account, he hasn’t responded since.

were you just in over your head? maybe he was just bored and was passing time by texting you. maybe he didn’t really mean it. maybe someone else took his phone and texted you just to make fun of you. 

time to time, you still think of the night you met, how his eyes fluttered close, how he stayed rooted in position, how you would’ve actually done it out of curiosity if it wasn’t for the fact that it was a public place with cameras littering every few inches of space.

you sigh, locking your phone and tossing it back in your purse. in the end, maybe itoshi sae really is just someone for you to admire from afar. maybe that’s for the best; you can’t imagine how it’d even feel like dating someone who has such a big spotlight cast on him.

the evening air is chilly, the lights of the nearby shopping mall a warm golden, the sea of people walking past you soon to drown out. if you didn’t know better, you’d think you’re living a privileged life—being able to live in such a nice district, with a better-than-average apartment that had been fully paid for since you were born. and if life had been kind to you, then maybe you’d like living at home more than you do now.

but as it is, going home only serves as a reminder to all your problems. unescapable, unavoidable, unbearable. and maybe it’s not such a good move for you to depend on eita a lot to be your escape, to help you forget about all of it, at least when you’re with him, but you can’t help it. escapism feels nice. it’s nice to be around someone who knows about it and still accepts you, even though you and him don’t see eye to eye about it most of the time. 

your stomach’s growling, and the macarons at the bakery’s display that you walk past are both nostalgic and tempting. but you can’t afford that.

something as simple as a box of macarons.

hang in there for the long term, you tell yourself. one day, you’ll get everything back. 

not ten minutes later, you’re at your own doorstep, hesitating to even enter. through the door you can hear the sound of the television. it’s loud and playing some drama that always airs at this timing. you’ve heard the same voices so many times before.

it’s funny to think that these sounds used to feel like home to you.

either way, you have to get this over and done with, so you slot your key in and walk through the door, carefully toeing off your shoes as though being quiet would make you escape her notice.

“and where did you go off to the last few days? can’t even come home and be a dutiful daughter and eat with her own mother?”

it hasn’t even been five seconds. 

all that ever awaits you at home now is the vile spit of your mother’s. it’s laughable because all she says is nonsense. you haven’t eaten on the same table together in years, even if you have been living under the same roof.

some part of you can’t help but be defiant. you know it’s a bad idea, but she’s out of line, and yet you’re still helping her. and you can’t figure out why.

“how about you be a dutiful mother and stop spending all your daughter’s money and go find a job?”

there’s a sharp sound that bounces off the walls of the living room quicker than you can expect it, and it takes you five seconds and the sting on your cheek to realise your mother had just slapped you with all her might.

not an ounce of hesitation or regret. there is only fury in her eyes as she looks down at you, summoning every bit of disdain she can muster. 

of course, how could you forget? this is what you get for talking back to her. it’s been a while since she’d last laid a hand on you, so maybe you’d gotten cocky, thinking she wouldn’t do it again.

“is this all you’re good for? you’re not using that filthy mouth to jack people off so you’re using it to spite me?”

there’s a lot you want to say.

you want to talk back to her again, to say that she’s the useless one out of the two of you. the one who doesn’t work yet gambles all day. the one who spent all the savings and insurance money so she’s fully depending on you month to month.

you want to tell her that you’re not some whore who goes around fucking everyone you see. she always hated eita, but that’s because he knows she’s no good. that’s also why you never tell him if she lays her hand on you. you don’t want to get them into any altercations. you also want to tell her eita’s taken better care of you than she ever has, and you don’t even have to jack him off for it.

but you stay silent.

because silence is the most comfortable you can get with her. no matter what you say or do, it will never suffice for her. she wants money, and she’s only angry because you haven’t been home to give it to her. it’s why you lock your own door every time you head out or go to sleep. you don’t want to find your own belongings gone by the time you’re back. neither do you want to find her snooping around your room in the middle of the night.

both of which have happened before.

taking advantage of your shock, she yanks your purse out of your hand, fishing for your wallet and grabbing all the cash she can find before tossing it back to you.

there’s no mercy in her eyes as she glares at her own daughter, the one she carried herself in her womb for nine whole months and once sworn to love. and now she blames the same little girl for ruining her body and refuses to take responsibility for her.

“listen, be a good girl and just give me what i ask for okay?” her tone is nothing but condescending and threatening. “if you’d just behave yourself, i wouldn’t have to do shit like that. think a little, would you?”

the demon that is your mother speaks as if you’re in the wrong, sighing to herself as she lights a cigarette and walks away, stuffing your hard-earned money in her purse before making for her room and slamming the door as she completely disposes of you for the day. she already got what she wanted, after all.

utterly defeated, you completely forget about your hunger, retreating into your room, locking the door behind you and falling to the floor. your vision blurs and your cheek still stings. you wonder if it’ll leave a mark like it did the last time.

your phone vibrates once.

blurry vision aside, you can tell it’s eita from the name alone. his talk to me if you need anything, okay? is bright on your phone screen, the only light in this room because you don’t have the energy to turn on the lights. you’re not feeling exceptionally hopeful today. the dark seems just right.

you’re thankful that you have a friend like him. you probably don’t deserve how nice he is to you. but you don’t want to talk to him. you don’t think you want to talk to anyone.

maybe just one person.

but he’s six foot under and inaccessible to you.

you’re not sure when you made it onto your bed—your head’s a mess. it always is when you speak to her. that’s why you scream into the pillow, willing your energy away, trying to drown your thoughts with your voice, dreaming of the day you can break free from this cycle.

thunder, pitter patter, raindrops against the windowsill.

the lightning helps you make out the time from the clock on the wall above your door. 

1am. your lips are chapped and the tears are dry against your cheeks. you’d subconsciously slept on the right side, your left still aching from earlier.

slowly, you get up, legs crossed and sitting on your bed, your earlier distress dissipated just slightly, mind a little clearer. (and always questionable.) your phone’s dead and you honestly don’t really care—what you do care about is your stomach’s incessant growling.

it wouldn’t take a genius to know that your mother cleared out all the food in the kitchen. it looked barren earlier from what you could see, maybe just a couple slices of bread and some condiments. you wouldn’t want to start cooking in the middle of the night either, lest she wakes up and you have even more to deal with.

the rain starts to lighten up by the time you’re out of the house, comfortable in your oversized windbreaker. you walk slowly, your slides already soaked from walking in the rain. it’s a nice cooling temperature, the wind in your face making you feel refreshed, like everything that’s horrible could be just a dream.

if only.

a light ten-minute walk later, you’re browsing through the aisles of the convenience store, wondering which brand of processed food is worthy to be your dinner. you hover between the cup noodles on the shelves and the sandwiches in the chiller, taking your time because home is not a place you’re exactly aching to go back to.

can you even call it a home at this point?

eventually, you waltz out of there with a warm tub of noodles, palms relishing in its warmth and your nose inhaling every last bit of its aroma.

dinner could be better, but you suppose you can’t complain when you’re trying your best to save up. after all, it’ll be a pain if your mother figures out the stash of savings you’re hiding. the last thing you want is for her to steal that away from you. then how would you ever move out on your own?

shaking your head as you settle down on a park bench on the opposite side of the road, you decide to throw those thoughts aside for now. it’s not a current problem that you need to mull over right now and destroy your mood. no, right now, what you need is just a peaceful night.

what’s past (earlier) is past.

even though it’s easier said than done when your tears start flowing one by one, and suddenly these noodles are saltier than you remember.

“sure you can’t come?”

sae looks at bianca through the passenger side window, her pout ever present. “nah, i’m tired. besides, if i oversleep who’s gonna drive you to the airport, huh?”

bianca grins at him, seemingly pacified. she reaches a hand into the car, perfectly manicured nails in full view before she clenches it into a fist, holding just a pinky out. “promise you’ll see me off tomorrow?”

there’s something between the lines that sae doesn’t get, nor is he sure he wants to. in all honesty, he’s not even sure why a promise is wanted here but he sticks out his pinky all the same anyway, because he’s pretty sure he won’t miss the alarm when it rings.

“yay, see you!”

“see you,” sae echoes as she bounds towards her friend’s place, ready for a last night of catching up over a game of cards before she flies back to america. as she disappears from his view, he wonders why she even tried to invite him in the first place. they’re her friends, he’s not really needed there anyway.

tuning out of those thoughts, sae drives off, already planning the remainder of the night. it’s 1am, and it’ll be near two by the time he makes it back to his apartment. that leaves him around a six hour sleep before he has to get up and send bianca off.

now that he’s thinking about it, since when has it become routine for him to send her off every time?

before he can even gather his thoughts about it, he steps on the brakes abruptly, wondering what the hell is wrong with some people to not be looking at both sides of the road before they cross, nearly pressing on the honk before something tells him not to. it’s distracting; the fact that the passing silhouette looks familiar and yet not at all.

against his better judgement, he pulls over by the side of the road, deciding to trust his gut. it’s late at night and there’s no reason for it but is that really you sitting on a park bench eating cup noodles past one in the morning? alone?

sae steps out of the car, mask on, pulling his hat down and his hoodie over his head to conceal himself, though some might argue he looks like he’s about to kidnap someone like this. he’s painfully aware this is dumb, and there’s no point to this, because what if it is you? it’s not like he has any reason to talk to you.

he stops midway, checking his phone and scrolling to your messages, his okay still sitting in the text box, unsent. fuck, he didn’t even realise until now. it didn’t help that he had a hectic schedule back to back for the past few days either. he never got around to creating that private account. he’ll just have to do it later.

a fleeting thought comes to him, wondering if you thought he was just pulling your leg about wanting to follow you. sure seems like it to him.

but he continues walking towards that park bench, towards that girl he thinks might be you, without knowing whatsoever what his next move will be. all he knows is that if that really is you, he’d rather say hello than say nothing at all.

even if it means making a detour that would undoubtedly make him endlessly tired the next day. for some reason.

and call him crazy, but as he draws closer, even without seeing your face, he knows it’s you somehow.

there’s something off about you, he doesn’t know what it is yet, but he can feel it. maybe he’ll find out. maybe he’ll try.

“hey, rude girl.”

just by the way your body stiffens up, he knows you recognise his voice. you choke on your noodles, coughing a little and rubbing your face before you whip your head upwards to face him, your eyes going wide with surprise.

“itoshi sae?”

why doesn’t he like it when you call him by his full name? it sounds weird, but he keeps his mouth shut.

“what are you doing here? do you live in the area?” you ask, setting your almost-empty cup of noodle on the bench. your voice is a little hoarse than he remembers, and your eyes are slightly puffy. there’s a faint swollenness on your left cheek, something he can see you’re desperately trying to hide behind your hair. it’s not really working.

he shakes his head, hands in his jacket pocket. “no, i was just dropping my friend off.” his eyes shift from you to the noodles. “supper?”

sae notices your eyebrow twitch ever so slightly, your nostrils flaring a little before you grin at him. “yeah, i missed lunch so this is me making up for it,” you giggle, offering a thumbs up.

is it bad to say he doesn’t believe you? you’re alone in the middle of the night on a park bench eating instant noodles with a slightly swollen cheek. yet you’re in front of him acting like nothing’s wrong.

this is already far from what he’d usually do. if you were anyone else, he would’ve just drove past and forgotten in a few days that he ever saw them. but as it is, here he is, standing in front of you, car parked illegally by the curb, just to verify that it really is you for no apparent reason.

still, he’s glad he did. you look like you’ve gotten a year’s worth of bad news judging by the state you’re in. and sae usually doesn’t cater to people, expects people to tell him what they need, not make him guess, but he’s already guessing what you might need.

your stomach is still growling, though you’re trying to hide it by slumping on the bench, arms over your stomach. sae has no idea why you feel like you have to hide, or who probably slapped you in the first place, but he finds himself disposing of your noodles before he’s grabbing you gently by the hand, tugging you along with him.

“hey, uh, where are we going?”

despite your shallow hesitation, sae feels your fingers curl around his palm. his heart skips a beat. he stops in his tracks, turning back around to face you. there’s an inexplicable emotion stirring inside him when he looks into your eyes.

his free hand comes up to remove his cap, putting it over your head and pushing it down to fit better. he doesn’t have a mask for you, but it’ll do. something tells him you don’t really want other people to see your face right now. and while the circumstances are different, he supposes he understands how it feels.

maybe you think he’s doing this because he’d rather not be papped with a girl, rather not have any more dating rumours. he’ll let you keep thinking that. he’ll keep acting like he doesn’t see the wound you’re desperately trying to hide.

for now.

“i’m hungry, eat with me,” is all he tells you before he resumes dragging you along behind him, calloused hands wrapping over your own.

sae’s not hungry in the least. he’d eaten probably three meals worth of food with bianca before this since she’d dragged him to a korean barbecue joint.

but you’re hungry. you’re starving and you’re not acting like it and you don’t say a thing about it—he doesn’t really get you.

he wants to.

maybe that’s why he’s doing all this. maybe that’s why he lets you in his car, drives to an izakaya he knows all too well. maybe that’s why he keeps stealing glances at you in the car, and maybe that’s why he feels a little warm inside when he catches you smiling to yourself.

as you sit silently beside him as he drives, your fingers fiddle nervously with each other. never did you think that you’d end up in sae’s luxurious car tonight of all nights. as if it wasn’t apparent enough before, after seeing his car, this definitely looks like a life that’s far beyond your reach.

you wonder if sae is the type of person who likes cars. it’s never indicated anywhere if he is. you recognise the brand; you don’t know the exact model but it’s a maserati, wrapped a matte black, at that. the interior leather seats are comfortable, and his air freshener smells nice.

on top of that, he’s driving you to someplace because he’s hungry too. talk about luck and coincidence.

you were thinking of just taking a short walk before going back home, but you’d take his invitation over that any day. you’re not sure where he’s taking you, but your feet are tapping in anticipation, though you hope it’s not anywhere expensive because you’re definitely not dressed the part.

beside you, sae’s not exactly dressed in anything fancy, but with looks like that? he would look expensive dressed in anything.

“quit staring,” sae mumbles, and you hurriedly avert your gaze, embarrassed at getting caught although you snicker a little when you catch the hint of a blush creeping up his cheeks. “what are you laughing at?”

you try to suppress a grin, biting on your lower lip. “you’re not as uncaring as the internet makes you seem,” you ponder out loud.

sae accepts your train of thought. he’s well aware that’s how he comes off in real life too. “and?” it’s a red light so he stops the car, turning his head to look straight at you.

is he asking you what you think of him?

you feel your heart skip a beat. he’s pretty, and he’s staring at you with those clear teal eyes of his and it makes you want to drown in them for some reason. he’s not as unfeeling as he comes across, and for him to bother taking you with him just to eat must mean you don’t fall into the category of people he finds to be just a waste of time. 

you want to know what this is.

“i don’t know, you’re like a cat,” you shrug, reverting back to your unserious self. “but i’ll let you know again once i get to know you better, itoshi sae.”

he looks away, the green light barely seeping through his windows. he doesn’t understand. “if you even get that far, that is.” (he likes how you already assume you’ll get to know him more. are you looking to spend more time with him?) 

you grin, making an internal bet with yourself. “just you wait,” you tell him, confident in your abilities. “i have a habit of growing on people.”

(sae chuckles internally, because he doesn’t doubt you. you already are.)

“are you sure this place is open?” you ask, discreetly tapping lightly on your cheeks, deciding that maybe you look just fine now. and it doesn’t seem like there’s a soul here anyway.

once sae parks his car into the lot, you take his cap off and look around, the sleek stand-alone three-storey building looking completely closed on the outside. there’s no other cars parked here—surely they’re not still open?

sae takes his keys out of the ignition, stuffing it into his jacket pocket. he looks nonchalant for the most part. “don’t worry, i know the owner, let’s go.”

you shrug to yourself, placing his cap neatly on the dashboard before getting up. he waits and observes as you get out of his car, making sure you’re beside him before he starts walking towards the restaurant. you notice him matching your pace, with you shamelessly adjusting it just to check.

before he enters through the doors, he looks at you, “there’s no one else around. just the owner’s nephew who’ll be cooking for us.”

the shopkeeper’s bell chimes as he makes his way inside, holding the door for you, and you wordlessly enter, even though you’re wondering why he feels the need to tell you that. is it because you look like a mess and he thought you’d care?

it’s cosy and warm inside, classical music filling the air, every table wiped spotlessly clean that they’re shining as the lights from the ceiling bounce off of their surfaces. there’s nobody you can see here, are they in the kitchen?

sae puts his fingers around your wrist this time, walking you through the restaurant, meandering expertly like he’s been here a thousand times. your eyes fall to his fingers; they’re gentle yet firm, and you’re only hoping he doesn’t realise how fast your pulse is right now.

in the end, you find yourself seated across from him on a tatami seating in a private room, browsing through the menus that are already placed on the table.

“order anything you want,” sae says, not looking up from his menu.

you hum in excitement as you start to really look at all the options you have. “oh? if you say it like that i’m not gonna hold back, you know,” you joke around, though sae doesn’t really sense it.

he just shrugs, “sure, go ahead.”

sae ends up regretting it though, not because you’re shamelessly spending a lot on his card, but because he finds out you’re the type to over-order. by the time the food is all cooked and sent to the table, sae’s eyebrows twitch, eyes flicking over across the room to look at you, grinning from ear to ear.

“both of you must be starved, huh?”

you look to the side, only now noticing the guy in the white chef’s coat that came to deliver the food. he has curly light brown hair, with eyes a shade or two darker. a grin is plastered on his face, and by the way sae speaks to him, it seems like they know each other quite a fair bit.

“oh, by the way, this is naruhaya,” sae introduces to you, and the guy holds his hand out for you to shake. “this is y/n.”

“nice to meet you!”

naruhaya’s beaming, a contrast to sae’s usual stoic expressions, but he’s back to small talk with the latter in a second. you leave them to it, until your ears perk up when he mentions a certain model’s name.

“hey, weren’t you with bianca earlier? where’s she?”

bianca—that name isn’t unfamiliar to you. after a crash course from sumi (because somehow she decided you need to know more gossip about itoshi sae after getting to know him in person), you had learned that she’s the model that sae is most rumoured to actually be with. and you’ve seen her from the pictures sumi shoved up your neck—she’s beautiful.

was she the friend he was dropping off earlier?

“meeting her other friends. anyway, sorry to keep you open.”

naruhaya waves it off with his hand. “it’s fine, i was gonna stay and try to whip up some new recipes anyway,” he says, before shooting you a knowing look. what exactly it means, you have zero idea. “i’ll leave you two to it, enjoy!”

once he leaves, you begin to dig in, lathering your meat with sauce, unashamedly inhaling your food because that earlier stint with your mother was entirely too much and you need to destress.

somehow, with sae being as nice as he is, you feel a teeny bit guilty for trying to dupe him into that interview. but you doubt that if you’d asked him normally that you would be here with him tonight so maybe there’s some merit in being reckless like that.

“what’re you smiling about now?” sae sighs, taking a piece of meat and putting it over his rice. “pleased that you’re getting a free meal or something?”

partly. but mostly, you’re pleased that you get alone time with him somehow. maybe it’s stupid, and maybe you sound like half of the female population in the country, but you can see why people ogle over him. if they got to know him like this, then you’d have no doubt that he’d manage to charm their pants off.

though, something tells you he doesn’t treat people like this often, let alone someone he barely knows.

“mhm,” you agree, shit-eating grin on your face because there’s no way you’re going to be so upfront about it. the last thing you want is to ruin a friendship when it’s barely started.

yeah, maybe that’s what you want—friendship. is it weird if you say that itoshi sae gives you the feeling that you can trust him? the last time someone made you feel that way was eita. but somehow, this time, it feels different in a way you can’t explain.

as you’re both digging in, you ask him whatever you’re curious about; how he got into soccer, what his life was like growing up, everything under the sun, only because he entertains you like he did that very first night.

“you ask a lot of questions, are you gonna ask me to get another interview approved or something?” he asks, deadpan as he slurps up the soba.

you chuckle, shaking your head. “no. i just want to know you.”

sae stills at your honesty, this being one of the rare times you’re wearing your heart on your sleeve. thump, thump, thump—it’s weird how you make him so aware of his heartbeats when you’re with him. it’s weird how he feels the same way.

then, he sees a familiar sight, you reaching your hand out across the table, your pinky pointed towards him. “i promise you, no hidden agendas this time.”

he swallows the lump in his throat, hooking his pinky with yours before he knows it, the inexplicable emotions only growing by the second.

even though he’s curious about you too, something tells him that you won’t answer him seriously. not tonight. so he keeps it to himself. he’ll find a chance to ask you next time.

if there is a next time. 

he’ll just have to make it happen.

halfway through the dinner, you have about a quarter of the food left and sae looks like he’s about to burst. he didn’t really look hungry to you, eating slowly all the way. you probably ate at least twice as much as he did. 

“you sure you were hungry?”

“not anymore,” sae deflects, putting his chopsticks down. he looks at you, leaning back and staring at the leftovers in awe. he almost snorts from how dazed you look. “i’ll get naruhaya to pack these, wait here.”

“thanks,” you call after him, knowing just how much of a food coma you’re going to be in once you’re back home.

sae stares at his phone as he navigates through the corridors to find the kitchen; it’s already 2.30am. time passes really fast with you for some reason. usually it’s a bore to sit with people he barely knows, they normally can’t keep a conversation. either that or he doesn’t really click with them. (as evident in the many times he was put in the same room with friends of friends and all that was there is awkward silence and forced conversations.) 

not you though.

you’ve always been interesting. you’re intriguing, and a little bit more daring than he’s used to. you’re not that shy, by what he could tell when you so effortlessly reached across the table and snapped a picture of the both of you eating, telling him you want to give him something to remember you by.

as if that’s your last meeting.

he looks at the picture in his photo album. a subtle smile tugs on his lips, and there’s a flutter in his heart that he can’t seem to ignore.

maybe he’s jumping the gun but… he thinks you could be worth any amount of sleep he’s going to lose.

naruhaya enters the private room alone, armed with takeaway boxes, and you smile sheepishly at him as he does. sae must be in the bathroom if he’s here alone.

“sorry, i think i ordered a little too much,” you apologise, rubbing the back of your head. “but it’s all really delicious, really.”

it really is. you’ve never had meat so tender before, and you’re almost sad thinking you’ll probably never get to eat this again. not with the price tag on it. 

“relax, i believe you,” naruhaya hums as he carefully places the leftovers in boxes. “so, how’d you get to know sae? photoshoot?”

you narrow your gaze at him, pressing your lips into a faint smile. “if you’re trying to flatter me, it’s working,” you joke, before shaking your head. “no, no, i’m not a model. i’m just a friend of a friend.”

naruhaya blinks at you like he’s surprised. “whose?”

“eita. otoya eita. why?”

“oh, it’s nothing. just… surprised sae brought another girl here for once,” naruhaya laughs nervously, packing the boxes into a clear bag. “usually it’s either oliver and gang or, well, bianca. but i haven’t seen her here in a while, actually.”

you get the feeling that sae and bianca are really, really close. 

“i think he just came here on a whim,” you brush it off. “we only met a week ago so i doubt you’ll see me here again anyway.”

naruhaya’s mouth forms an ‘o’, before it reverts back to that knowing smile again. both of you hear footsteps against the wooden floors of the izakaya, so naruhaya takes this chance to whisper in your ear.

“i think… you must be pretty special then, huh?”

before you can even ask him what he means by that, sae strolls through the door, oblivious to the earlier conversation, gaze pointed to you. “ready to go?”

you nod, taking the bags from naruhaya as sae escorts you out of there. “bye, naruhaya! i love your cooking!”

he laughs as you wave enthusiastically to him, and he winks at you right before sae turns around to look at him. “oi, sae, bring her over anytime, okay?” to which sae only waves it off, leaving you to wonder if you’ll ever actually see naruhaya again.

“you keep those,” sae tells you after the both of you get into his car, referring to the takeaway boxes. he’d told naruhaya to give you some extra meat, just in case. if he remembered right, eita once said you have quite the appetite.

he pulls out of the parking lot after you give him your address, driving the speed limit all the way back. he’s honestly kind of tired, and he can see that you are too. won’t hurt to make it back a little quicker than you came. 

“sure you don’t want some?”

“i’m fine, i’ll be busy for the next week or so anyway. i won’t even be home.”

there’s a hint of disappointment in your chest when you hear that, though you chide yourself for your wishful thinking. what makes you think you can run into a celebrity so easily anyway if he is in japan?

“oh, you’re gonna be away? try not to miss me.”

sae chuckles, softly, at the way you can be so unserious—it’s something you hear for the first time, and you feel the flutters in your heart going wild. there’s something about the way he looks so gentle like this, away from the cameras and the public eye that makes him so much more alluring than usual.

“i’ll try,” he says, though you know he’s just playing along.

usually, you don’t feel this type of way around people. you’ve never felt like this before so you can’t even think of ways to explain it. as you sit in the passenger seat, you can’t help but feel a certain attachment growing. it makes you think foolish things like i want to see you again and wonder about even sillier things like would you want to see me too?

but you’d never actually tell him that.

when your apartment comes into view, you grab at his cap on the dashboard, putting it on your head yourself this time, looking into the side mirror. “hm, think this looks better on me, what do you think?”

sae’s a little stunned at the sudden question. you have a way of making him exasperated—in all the good ways. “wanna keep it?” he’s guessing that’s where you’re headed. not that he minds. 

“oooh, then maybe i get to sell it for a buttload of money. especially when i tell people it belonged to you,” you smirk, and sae finds himself wondering why your guard is up so high.

he starts driving a little slowly, starting to feel the reluctance brewing inside him. “it’s yours now, do whatever you want with it.” he knows you’re not actually going to sell it anyway. he might not have known you for long, but he thinks you’re not that kind of person.

he’ll bet on it.

you don’t say anymore about it, and he catches you with a blank stare straight ahead, aimed at your apartment.

does it have something to do with your family? was that why you were unhappy earlier?

sae can’t shake the feeling of wanting to know more about you. but you snap back to your usual self before he can do anything about it.

“anyway! don’t worry about tonight, i won’t tell a soul that a superstar like you took a nobody like me out for a romantic supper in a private room,” you tell him, winking as you place your hands on the door handle, ready to go.

sae nearly laughs. “can’t you say thank you like a normal person?” because by now, the both of you are comfortable enough to understand that nothing is ever said in hostility. you take it as his banter.

somehow, your hand finds itself back onto your lap, and the words haven’t left your lips. there’s no music in the car, so it’s just you and sae and the air between you, a tension looming in the air that you can’t ignore. there’s just silence as you observe him from your position, your head inching closer, ever so slowly it feels like you’re not even moving at all. you can see how sae’s gaze flickers from your eyes to the tip of your nose and then to your lips, and you think of how he looks almost like he did that night when you got close to him.

except this time, you’re really tempted. you’re alone, just the both of you, and he’s been really nice and you’re really tempted to feel how soft those lips are and what he tastes like. but that’s too much, and yet somehow his eyes feel like they’re telling you different. would he mind?

your fingers pull the cap down from your head, covering both your faces as there’s barely any space between you now.

maybe just something tame.

in one swift motion, your lips press against his cheek, a hurried thank you rolling off your tongue before you bolt out of the car and back to your apartment, hoping that sae doesn’t think you’re a complete psycho for doing that. 

back in the car, sae freezes in position even after you’ve long vanished from his sight. his heart’s still beating wildly in his chest and he wonders what the hell just happened.

and then he finds himself questioning when it could happen again.

why does he want it to happen again?

before he starts the drive back, he does three things.

one, he fishes his phone out of his pocket and creates that account he forgot about. two, he sends you a follow request because he doesn’t think he can handle this curiosity anymore. and three, he opens your messages, breathing shallow as he tries to make plans for the first time.

an hour later, after you’re showered and your heart has calmed down, you check your phone, charged to full now on your bedside table. there’s a few messages from sumi and eita that you missed since it had been dead since before you left the house, and then your heart skips a beat when you realise that sae’s name is there as well.

for the first time in a long time, you go to bed feeling like a giggly high school girl who’s been asked out by her crush. and for the first time in forever, sae receives your message and finds that he can’t sleep now—wondering why he felt so relieved to finally get a text back, and wondering what this frantic rush of his heart really means. 

extras !

no, sae did not get up late to meet bianca the next day. he did look extremely tired though, which made her suspicious and ask why—sae did not reveal anything, just said he couldn’t sleep. partly true.

sae was right; if he’d asked yn about herself that night (particularly anything pertaining to her family), she wouldn’t have answered seriously. there’s a reason why she won’t so easily divulge her family issues & doesn’t want sae to know about it.

yn genuinely believes that sae did not notice anything off about her and that he honestly thought she was fine.

otoya did end up bringing his date to a hotel. after she fell asleep, otoya went out to the balcony to call yn and make sure she’s okay since she wasn’t responding.

yn’s mother knows that yn and otoya used to fuck (and still thinks they are), and that’s why she used her choice of words “jacking people off”. she has been treating yn like that for the past few years.

random fact #1: otoya used to purposely get yn in trouble all the time in school so that they could spend time in detention together. that’s how they started getting close.

random fact #2: sae has, in his head, considered being together with bianca before because the guys asked him about it.

taglist! @yuzurins @saeskiss @raphsimp @lust4rin @mxplesyrvp @chieeeeeee @yumekolovesyukimiya @kunirayuna39 @auranny @sereniteav @gskill @saesgrl @riseena @rikijbol @sagejin @shironagi

[overtake]

a black lace bralette 💜

CW: Infidelity through unintentional but also definitely intentional sexting

Max doesn’t send Daniel the photo deliberately.

Kelly watched too many videos about minimalism, got inspired, and is doing a massive closet clean out. Their bedroom is littered with fabric. Max doesn’t even know how half these items even fit on a human body. They’re a confusing mess of zippers and strings.

Kelly gave up on asking his opinion about three dresses in — somehow, “you look beautiful,” is the wrong answer when you say it more than once, and she banished him to the sim.

“I’m going to drop some of these off with friends and get dinner with them,” she says, holding up a bag of clothes and giving him a quick kiss. “Would you mind just taking the rest of the clothes and putting them in a box?”

Max rolls his neck and shoulders, then dutifully stands up from his chair. “Of course.”

She thanks him with another kiss then floats out the door. Max probably won’t see her for at least a few hours, but he’d rather get this out of the way quickly so he can get back to gaming.

He grabs an abandoned cardboard box and begins recklessly throwing things in, paying no mind to his work until his fingers catch on the neat edges of lace tucked inside a silky pink dress.

He carefully picks the item out and examines it, trying to determine if this was included deliberately or not. It’s a delicate black bralette with a pretty little flower detail over the place nipples would sit. He’s never seen Kelly wear this, and for good reason. The band is visibly too wide for her small frame, which means he should definitely toss it in the box. There are tags on it and everything.

He swallows, then tosses it back on the bed. It doesn’t hurt to double check, just in case.

When the bed is clear, he carefully spreads the fine lace over the stark white sheets and takes a photo. He keeps the tag in the frame so she can see the size.

Max Verstappen: This was tucked inside a dress. Looks big enough to fit me 😂 Keep or donate?

He attaches the photo and clicks send, then very intentionally does not check his phone again until after he’s closed up the box and heated up some dinner.

Daniel Ricciardo: Well. If you’re asking me, keep.

Daniel Ricciardo: I’d have to see it on first. It is your size after all …

Daniel Ricciardo: Might look good under this year’s polos

Max drops his fork with a clang and scrolls up to see that yeah, he’d clicked into his text thread with Daniel instead of Kelly. Amazing. Beautiful.

With Daniel, acting embarrassed about it would only make the situation worse. The best move with him, 100% of the time, is to lean into it.

He checks the time, then Kelly’s location. They haven’t even made it to a restaurant yet. Her dot is still firmly inside her friend’s building. She doesn’t always get his friendship with Daniel and the kind of humour they share, and this one would be especially tough to explain if she walked in on it.

He cuts one last look to the front door then slithers back to the bedroom. He yanks out one of the several navy polos hanging on his sparse side of the closet and tosses it onto the bed alongside the wrinkled shirt he was just wearing.

He reaches out three fingers and scoops up the bralette with them, letting it dangle in the air as he tries to figure out how to put it on. There’s no clasp, just some kind of elastic, so he figures he just has to pull it on over his head.

He adjusts it in his hands so the small triangles face the front, then goes for it. He gets a little tangled up in it first try, has to pull it back up to successfully place a complicated x-shape across his back, but he gets it settled. It’s a bit too tight on him, but it fits.

He adjusts the bra so everything is settled correctly and sitting right, then tugs the polo on without daring to look down at the lace on its own.

He pulls up the thread with Daniel, opens the camera, and takes a picture with the shirt tugged open just enough to see the black straps peeking out.

Max Verstappen: What do you think? Will I be best-dressed?

Daniel sends something back almost immediately, which is unusual for him. He’s normally a slow texter.

Daniel Ricciardo: Think I have to see it without the polo to really decide. Very fashion-forward, though.

Max’s body is warm all over, small beads of sweat starting to collect in the pits of his shirt. He can’t explain what comes over him. He moves on instinct, no thought, no consideration of what the existence of a picture like this could do to him if it got leaked.

He props up his phone on the bed, pulls off the polo, and sits in front of the camera. He’s learned a few things in his years as an Instagram boyfriend, and the self-timer is one. He clicks the three-second option and leans his torso forward a little so the bralette takes up more of the frame.

He can see it now, the full effect. The bra being too tight means it pushes the extra fat on his pecs closer together. His arms are pressed against his side, which furthers the effect of his barely-there-but-definitely-there tits. The black lace is a harsh contrast to his pale skin, but the flushed pink on his neck and chest soften it a little. The band digs into his flesh, but it doesn’t look bad on camera.

His athletic shorts look dumb in comparison, he thinks. He crops the photo just below the soft curve of hips, enough to cut out the mesh but keep his full upper body in the frame. The photo doesn’t capture his face — he’s not totally stupid, even if this photo is only going to Daniel — but you can see the barest hint of his unshaven stubble.

Max Verstappen: So? Think the team will go for it?

He watches Daniel type, then stop, then type again. It goes on for one minute, two, three, before he finally gets a voice memo. It’s only four seconds long, but he drops his phone on the bed and lets it play from there.

Daniel clearly has his retainer in, his words slightly lisped in that distinct way they do when his tongue hits plastic.

“I think you should bring that to Baku,” he says. He sounds like he’s aiming for a joke, and is halfway there, but his voice is straining at the end of the sentence.

Max lets out one long, shuddering breath. The lace feels too restrictive, indenting his skin like damning proof instead of an elaborate joke. He pulls it off, then crumbles the material and stuffs it inside the polo on his bed so he doesn’t have to look at it any longer.

He has to answer. He can’t leave Daniel on read, with this half-serious thing sitting between them, but he also can’t play it off entirely. It’s not — he’s happy. He’s in a good, healthy relationship with someone he loves. He stopped letting himself wonder about Daniel years ago, gave into the reality that Daniel’s jokes would never mean as much as Max used to think they might.

Max Verstappen: Maybe I will, maybe I won’t

Max Verstappen: You’ll have to get my polo off on Thursday to see 😜

He searches the emoji keyboard for wink, selects one with extreme caution. He thinks it strikes the correct balance of joking and flirty.

Daniel types, then stops, then types all over again.

Daniel Ricciardo: I love a challenge. See you Thursday.

The conversation ends there. Max finishes his now-cold dinner, tapes up the box for donation, and joins his friends for a few quick rounds of FIFA. He doesn’t tell Kelly about the bra and doesn’t delete the photo from his phone. Instead, he takes the polo with the black lace inside, opens the corner of his already-packed suitcase, and stuffs it inside.

[starhrtz]

𝐊𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐒.

desc. finding cat poop or mice at your front door on a daily basis was starting to annoy you, and it all started because of your new neighbour.

note. i got this idea when my friend said she stepped on cat poop on her way to school LMFAO.

It didn't take you long to figure the culprit of all the cat litter that has been recently showing up at your doorstep, not to mention a bunch of dead mice were near your shoes too! But, why did the culprit's owner have to be so attractive!

CAT_OWNER!KAZUHA who immediately apologises repeatedly but he did noticed how you were stunned, did his cat really messed up this badly that no matter how much he apologised your just keeping quiet and just staring at him? When in fact, you were just stunned by how beautiful he was?! How can such a attractive yet well mannered person have such a mischievous cat?

"im really sorry on behalf of Tomo jr.. I'll go pick the litter right now! How about you rest first in my home while i go pick up the litter? I just cooked lunch for myself but I wouldn't mind sharing it with you... I mean! Just as one of my ways to try and make it up to you!"

CAT_OWNER!SCARAMOUCHE who just sighs and rolls his eyes, it's not the first time his cat did this well at least the cat didn't pee at your front door unlike his old unfortunate neighbour. Scaramouche's cat probably took mercy on you or at least that's what he thinks. All Scara did was slightly apologise but it held a little sincerity unlike his past apologies to stuff like this.

"sorry about him, he's reckless, i'll try my best to keep him in my home so he doesn't disturb your peace but... You're not going to report me right? I'd hate to lose my chance with you.. The rent is quite cheap so I'd hate to lose a place like this."

CAT_OWNER!XIAO who was wondering why his cat wasn't pooping in his litter box or anywhere on his property, he even had to see a vet thinking his cat head pooping problems! When he returned home from work, he caught his own cat in the act of leaving mice on your front door and immediately wrote a letter of apology to you since he... Isn't the best in conversations.

"sorry about the mice on your front door... On behalf of my cat im sincerely sorry, it isn't like my cat to litter or leave mice on someone's door but I hope you'd at least still talk to me i do not wish for any tension between us. Please do knock on my door once you read this. (ps. I already cleared all the mice that was on your door.

[presleyluvschris]

Hey I got a request for jj

That jj is a single dad to a baby girl and he is to scared to hold because he will think he will drop her and John b everyday will try and get jj to hold her then one day jj was holding her on his chest then he takes her everywhere With him hope that make sense

Koala Care

dad!jj x fem!reader x daughter

a/n ahh this is so cutie! thank you for the request anon, love you bunches!

desc JJ holds his baby girl for the first time

wc 1.2k

warnings cursing, grammar, fluff

"Peaches?" JJ comes in through the back door of the chateau, carefully shutting it behind him as he walks through the kitchen to set down a box full of baby supplies.

The usual. Diapers, baby food, her favorite yogurt melts, more of his old band & surf t-shirts to wrap her up in.

He notices Aria crying her eyes out behind him in between the white rails of her bed. he must have forgotten to change her when he left. He also noticed it was pissing off John B who was trying to work on something probably useless and he caught the hint that he's been listening to her cry for at least an hour.

"Shit," he mutters, messing with his backwards hat as he turns his attention away from Aria for a split second to glance at John B. Turns out he was fixing a cooler for the boat.

"Bro." he goes over to him, kicking him in the leg slightly, "You seen Y/n? I really need her help knowing what measurements of tit milk I'm supposed to feed mini me."

John B rolls his eyes to the ceiling as he screws in the side of the cooler handle.

"First of all," he says through a gritted tone from a bolt in between his teeth.

"You gotta stop with the teenage boy, language wording shit."

He spits out the bolt and screws another nail into the bottom.

"You're like a dad now. Its your dick and your daughter, buddy. You really want your kid to go around saying, tit milk?"

JJ tuts. "Bro she cant even talk yet. Plus, I don't remember half the shit i said as a fucking baby. Maybe thats cause my dad probably beat the shit out of me where I like- lost half my cells, but i ain't changing. Plus, daddy will raise her to be the best hooker of man kind. Shes a Pogue, shes not gonna be a goody two shoes if my life depends on it."

John B turns his head around and gives him a look.

"Jesus Christ JJ, did anything click when your girlfriend popped a living thing out of her ass?" He purses his lips.

JJ points his lips downwards and shrugs.

"Or are you always gonna be known as the dad who raised a stripper?" John B rolls his eyes again, taking a weird clear plate out of his box, "Y/n is a doctor for fucks sake, she's the only hope for raising her I swear to God."

John B shakes his head, "I've told you everyday now. You haven't even held her yet."

JJ grips his hat, "Thats because im gonna drop the kid!"

John b slaps his forehead.

"You're litterally her DAD, JJ! Y/n popped a baby out of her kitty sack and you seriously didnt even touch her the day she was born." John B raises his eyebrows. "Do you remember that? Y/n cried in Kie's room FOR AN HOUR thinking you didnt want the kid!"

JJ opens his mouth to respond then stops.

"Whatever. Go back to fixing your cold box and shit," He turns his back to walk away.

John B changes the tip on his screwdriver, "You're gonna have to hold your own ass daughter eventually, dude."

"I hope you screw a nail in your dick!" JJ calls out and tuts again, mumbling under his breath, "teaching me how to handle my own kid..."

"im the one fixing this goddamn cooler so you can drink your shit ass blue moon chilled!" John b yells back, JJ opening the door and slamming it shut to try and find you again.

"y/nnnn," he groans, calling out your name, finding you sitting on the steps outside.

He kneels down and wraps his big arms around you, kissing the side of your head gently.

"Hi baby," he mutters, "How was work?"

you felt your head pulsating before forcing yourself to give a response.

"Hmmm fine. it was busy."

"Yeah?" he strokes your head, "Real quick."

You sigh slightly, "Hmm?"

"how much ti-" He stops, and clears his throat.

"How much milk do I need to feed Ari?" He says in a soft voice, knowing you had a blaring headache from your shift.

You exhale, leaning your arms on your knees.

"theres about 7 oz in the fridge."

He nods, "thank you sweets," he kisses your hair one last time before leaving you in peace to rest your mind.

He goes back inside the chateau, opening the fridge and taking out the bottle, reaching over Aria's crib and putting the tip to her mouth.

"there we are, sweet girl.." he holds the back of her head while she drinks gently, her cries settling down.

After Aria is finished, he stares at her for a moment.

Why was it so hard for him to hold his own daughter? He feels a wave of guilt floods over his spine.

He reaches his hands out, then stops.

"God damnit," He sighs.

"Okay." He stares at Aria one more time. "3, 2.."

"Fuck this."

He picks Aria up gently in his arms, his heart jumping as he does so.

"Holy shit," he breathes. "Oh my God."

He holds her to his chest, making sure to support her back, something he learned in a parenting book he found online as he feels his soul melt in his stomach.

"There we go," he coos softly, rocking her up and down gently.

"Hi love." he holds her up to look in her eyes with the biggest grin on his face.

"You have your mommas eyes, don't you?"

It's like he fell in love with you all over again. Just this time, it was a baby. And it was his baby.

He holds her to him again, hearing you opening the screen door to come back inside the chateau as he looks at you with the stupidest smile on his face.

"JJ.." you breathe, a grin full of your white perfect teeth filling the room as you jog over to him.

You rub his arm gently as you stare at Aria in JJ's arms.

"im so glad." You said, tears slightly filling the bottom of your eyes as your breath catches in your throat.

"She has your eyes," He repeats the observation he made earlier.

You nod with a sniffle, chuckling slightly.

"She has your lips."

JJ presses another soft kiss into the side of your neck.

A few days later, you noticed that JJ dorkily bought one of those baby carrier things to attach to your chest, and you had to admit it was pretty cute seeing Aria giggle with him, taking her everywhere he went.

John B was relieved her finally built up the balls to hold his kid, and if you were honest, you were relieved too.

Kiara bullied him everyday for taking Aria with him everywhere because the baby holder he chose was literally hot pink. Really hot pink.

He was so happy everyday. To be the dad that he never had. The one he had prayed and wished for everyday as a kid.

JJ was such a tough guy, tough face, tough love, tough soul.

but I guess not when it came to you and Aria. You and her were his new world and there was nothing in the entire universe that could take that away from him.

☆ divider & gif credits to @viixcyre @baby-bearie

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[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 76 (A Happy Harvestfest With One Greedy Little Genius)

Despite their busy schedules with work, Heather and Conrad hosted most of her family in Brindleton Bay for Harvestfest dinner. Ash would start school soon, and Heather could scarcely believe how fast time had gone. It seemed only yesterday she brought him home from the hospital in Henford where he was born.

Heavily pregnant herself, Heather's sister Holly spent most of the night napping in the upstairs guestroom, while her husband Kris and daughter Tetra hid out in the bathroom when the number of strange people made the infant uncomfortable. But otherwise the house was full of love and celebration, just as Harvestfest was meant to be.

Everyone ate so much there were no turkey leftovers! And though Heather was an incredible chef who had mastered gourmet cooking in their quest for ambrosia, Conrad stepped up to make this year's grand meal. Not only would it help him with his own cooking skill in their quest, it let very-pregnant Heather rest and enjoy the day with her family.

By the time everyone left, they were exhausted but content that nothing had spontaneously caught fire this time, unlike their last Spooky Day party.

A few weeks after his birthday, Ash lost his first tooth. A little genius with perhaps a hint of Landgraab greed, he was so excited for the Tooth Fairy's visit, Heather worried he'd try to pull the rest of his teeth before they were ready to fall out!

"Are you going to put that tooth under your pillow tonight?" asked Conrad.

Ash shook his head. "No, I'm gonna save it and take it to Daddy's! He told me when he was a kid, his Tooth Fairy gave him ten whole simoleons - per tooth!" Heather and Conrad exchanged wry looks. "With inflation, who knows how rich she is now!"

Conrad laughed as Heather balked. "How do you know about inflation? You're five."

"Gramma Nancy taught me about inflation," he said with a shrug. "She said when I run the company one day, I'll have to know a lot."

Heather forced a smile, but later that night she texted Malcolm.

So this is weird. I heard your Tooth Fairy got caught in the last recession and the going rate for our son's teeth is still ten simoleons.

Malcolm: ...Did he bring up inflation?

Ten! (Which is still outrageous) No more! And don't let your mother make him feel like he has to run Landgraab Corp. one day!

Malcolm: Alright, I'll tell him. I swear.

And your mother...?

He didn't respond. Even if Malcolm couldn't or wouldn't pick this battle with his mother, Heather wanted her son to work harder for whatever he wanted in life than his father ever had. She wanted him to understand responsibility despite the privileges he'd been born into.

He took out the trash, cleaned the litter boxes, fed the animals - even the beetles in the insect farm, and always did his homework. He even loved to help Conrad rake the leaves as long as he could jump and play in them when they were done!

Just as outgoing as he was as a toddler, he spent as much time as he could with his friends. He loved playing on the pirate ship by the wharf with Scotti Holiday, whose parents, Summer and Travis, had befriended Heather over numerous trips to the vet with the Holidays' dog, Kona.

"Be glad there's only going to be one at home," Scotti said. "Mateo is annoying and all Courtney does is make messes." She was about a year older than Ash. Even though he was a genius, he thought six-year-old Scotti knew more about life than he ever could.

"I'll have another one soon too, but that brother or sister will live in San Myshuno with my dad."

"Do you see your dad a lot?"

Ash shrugged. "Not as much as you see yours. I see Conrad all the time, though."

"But Detective Gordon's not even your stepdad. He can't even discipline you when you do something bad."

"I don't really do bad things..."

Scotti laughed. "You're so funny, Ash Landgraab."

Even as Heather and Conrad marveled at how fast Ash had grown, the days passed at a snail's pace as they waited for his little brother or sister to be born. ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 1 Summary | Gen 1 Start

NOTE: The pose before the cut is from the Us 3 pose pack by @katverse. I used the all-in-one version (there are 5 poses) and caught them between pose flips, but I also caught Gord breaking into the shot! So this is now one of my favourite family portraits on the walls of their home. 🥰

NOTE 2: I'm itching to post Saturday's post early. Should I do it or is Saturday fine? It's a really good episode. 👀

[brattyfics]

Swampbound VI

For hours, Adla and Terry scoured every inch of the old house—digging through dusty boxes and creaky drawers, searching for the elusive book Terry insisted was there. Each uncovered item, every drawer opened, peeled back layers of a life she thought she understood. She couldn’t grasp why this book was so important, or what secrets it held, but Terry wasn’t giving much away.

"I'll know it when I see it," he kept muttering, his voice low and distant, like he was chasing ghosts only he could see.

“This don’t make a lick of sense,” she complained, surveying the chaos they’d created, the neat house now littered with overturned furniture and scattered papers. “My daddy was always a straight-laced man. Didn’t have time for no magic, no amulets, none of that mess. It’s not the man I knew.” She spoke with conviction, but the doubt was creeping in.

Terry, hunched over an old trunk, slammed its lid shut with a sigh. “Sayin’ that every five minutes ain’t gonna make it show up any quicker,” he muttered, frustration creeping into his voice but trying to keep it in check.

“No one's makin' you stay, Terry. You can go if you need to,” Adla said, her tone firm but not harsh, hands resting on her hips as her frustration simmered beneath the surface.

Terry paused, the heat in his voice fading. “I’m just worried about my cousin, alright? You gotta understand—I’m on edge.”

Adla could see it—just how much his cousin meant to him. Blood wasn’t the only thing that bound them; there was something deeper, a connection that, once lost, left scars that never truly healed.

“I get it,” she admitted softly, her anger dissipating.

She’d spent a year trying to bury her grief—moonshine, Jesse, keeping herself too busy to feel. But now, everything felt raw again. She missed her daddy fiercely, and the mess they were digging into only made that ache worse.

“I thought I knew him. Now... I’m not sure of anything anymore.”

Terry glanced up, his eyes carrying an edge of understanding. “Sometimes, we don’t know the people we love as well as we think.” Terry cast a sharp glance at the spot where he’d dropped an unconscious Jesse earlier, tension lingering in the thick, sticky air. Adla’s brow furrowed, suspicion flickering. “Are we still talkin’ about my daddy?”

Terry lifted his hands in mock surrender, but his eyes remained steady, almost too knowing. “Take it how you want.” There was something in the way he looked at her, as if he could see the secrets she hadn’t even admitted to herself.

She didn’t like it, that feeling of being exposed. Wanting to shift the focus, she asked, “Tell me more about Mike.”

Terry hesitated, like he was weighing whether to open that door. Then, finally, he spoke. “What do you wanna know?”

Adla’s fingers grazed the edges of an old photo she’d been staring at. “I know what he looks like. Burne showed me a sketch earlier. There was one of you, too.”

She traced the familiar lines of a picture of herself as a little girl, grinning ear to ear while struggling to hold up a fish too big for her tiny hands. Her daddy’s scrawled handwriting on the back read, Addy’s first fish.

“What was he like when he was little?”

Terry didn’t miss a beat. “Annoyin’,” he said with a deep chuckle. “That boy followed me everywhere. Always on my heels, tryin’ to do whatever I was doin’. Drove me crazy.” His laughter faded, turning softer. “Eventually, I figured out he was my best friend, whether I liked it or not—so I stopped fightin’ it.”

His smile reached his eyes, sincere in a way she hadn’t gotten to see yet. It was beautiful. “Yeah? What kinda trouble did y’all get into together?” she teased, her teeth flashing in a playful grin.

Terry was one of the finest men she’d ever laid eyes on, and from what she remembered, Mike wasn’t far behind. There had to have been plenty of girls flockin’ to them. But Terry’s answer carried a weight she hadn’t expected.

“Most of the trouble came from what we are,” he said, his tone shifting to something more serious. “Our daddies and uncles kept us close, didn’t want us gettin’ caught up with the wrong folks.”

It clicked for Adla then—the reason Terry and Mike were here. Burne wasn’t just some passing trouble.

“What you mean, ‘people like Burne’? You talkin' about white folks? The police?”

Terry’s expression hardened. “Police, hunters—ain't much different. Our ancestors shifted to survive; theirs survived retribution by huntin’ us. That hate runs deep, passed down just like everything else."

Adla could feel the tension rising and she wasn’t about to dig any deeper into that wound. Not yet. “So, you gonna tell me ‘bout this family heirloom now? Or maybe this book we’re never gonna find?” she pressed, trying to steer the conversation back to the present.

"You don’t give up easily, do you?"

"Wouldn't dream of it."

Terry’s grin was grim. “That necklace. It’s a lunar chain—a leash, for lack of a better word. Keeps us wolves in check. Wild wolves? That’s a disaster waitin’ to happen, even I can admit that.”

Adla raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile playing on her lips. “You don’t say.”

Terry laughed, a rich, genuine sound. “Yeah, I reckon I deserve that.”

She smirked. “You deserve more than that, I reckon.” She began ticking off his offenses on her fingers. “Property damage, breakin’ and enterin’, that little hostage stunt earlier… And now here I am, diggin’ through these dusty closets and messin’ with my allergies. All on account of you."

Terry smiled, knowing she was just messin’ with him. Still, he felt a twinge of guilt for turnin’ her world upside down. “What’s it gonna take to make it right?”

“You could do somethin' for me…” Terry set aside what he was doing and focused his attention on her. “…I need you to tell me the truth about Jesse.”

"It's best you hear it from him."

"I'm asking you, though," She pressed, but Terry shook his head. "I know you know what he is. It's written all over your face. I saw what he did earlier. Just tell me the truth."

“Ain't my place to talk about another man's business.”

Terry might not want to say anything, but she couldn’t just sit on the sidelines.

She thought about Jesse, his easy charm, his dimples, and the way he always seemed to know how to talk his way out of anything. But he was still Jesse—her best friend, the closest thing she had to family now. She owed it to herself—and to Jesse—to have a conversation, at the very least.

"Fine," she muttered, bending to rummage through another bag. "I’ll talk to him."

He watched her movements, noting how she tossed the bag aside with a bit more force than necessary and huffed under her breath. He stepped up behind her, resting his hands on her hips.

“Tell me what you remember about that necklace.”

She remembered the luster of the chain, a strange shimmer that must’ve been the magic woven into it. “It’s silver, always catching the light just right,” she mused, straightening up a little, hyper-aware of how warm he felt, standing so close behind her. “There’s symbols etched on the pendant.”

She turned her head slightly, glancing over her shoulder to meet his gaze. Her fingers instinctively traced the crescent moon and star tattooed on his arm, a gesture that lingered longer than she intended. “Your family’s crest, I reckon.”

Terry watched her, absorbing every word as if they were a balm for some deep-seated ache within him.

"I ain't never seen it myself. My daddy, and his daddy before him, they hadn't either. I always wondered what it looked like in person. Hoped I'd get to hold it in my own hands one day."

“You will,” she said, a surprising certainty in her voice. She caught glimpses of it—glinting in the soft light of a cramped room with concrete walls. Terry was there, Jesse too, but then it all faded to nothing. She was too scared to speak about it—the images swirling in her mind. Instead, she reached for Terry’s hand and held it in her own. “Having it—or even just seeing it—must feel like holding a piece of your history right in your hands.”

“Ain’t nothin’ more important than knowin’ where you come from,” he said, locking eyes with her, a strange intensity anchoring them both in the moment.

The weight of two restless nights hung over her; a yawn slipped from her lips, exhaustion pulling at her like a heavy quilt. If she wasn’t careful, she might entertain the ridiculous notion of curling up next to Terry Richmond. They were both aching for connection, and she could feel that energy stirring between them.

As the first rays of sunlight peaked over the horizon, her eyes burned with fatigue. “I’m 'bout brew some coffee. You want a cup?” she asked, her voice a soft murmur against the stillness.

“Nah,” he said, though he looked just as worn as she felt. Restlessness clung to him like a second skin, determination driving him on. “I’ll just keep lookin’ if that’s alright with you.”

“Go ahead,” she said, understanding his urgency. If she could’ve saved her father, there wasn’t anything she wouldn’t have done.

Adla paused to collect her thoughts as the coffee brewed. Even with Terry in the next room, his presence seemed to fill the whole house. She couldn’t shake the feeling of what it’d be like when she was alone again.

Pushing away from the counter after a few sips, she decided to check the loft. It was a cramped space she hadn’t touched in years, but with everything else in the house turned upside down and nothing to show for it, it wouldn’t hurt to take a look.

“I’m heading up there,” she called to Terry, nodding toward the ceiling as she passed the bedroom. Climbing the creaky ladder, she braced herself for whatever might be hidden in the dusty corners of the old house.

The summer heat clung to her skin, thick and suffocating, as she pushed aside boxes. Wiping the sweat from her brow, she felt an inner urge driving her forward, like a faint whisper nudging her to keep searching.

As she lifted the lid of another box, the familiar scent of aged paper and old wood enveloped her. Beneath yellowed newspaper clippings and faded family photos lay a worn, leather-bound book, its cracked cover and frayed edges revealing the touch of countless hands. She brushed the dust away with the back of her hand. It was heavier than it appeared, as if it contained more than just paper.

Hesitating for a moment, she slowly opened the book, feeling an invisible thread weave her past and present together. A page slipped loose from the worn book and fell into her lap. It was written in her father’s familiar hand, the strokes bold and deliberate.

To protect what’s left of our family, I had no choice. It’s a betrayal to the shifters, but I have to protect you from Burne. It may be selfish, but it’s necessary. You are supposed to be here, baby girl. When you’re ready, you can change things. I know you can.

Adla’s body trembled as she read on, skimming the words that would change everything.

She glanced back at the book, her sweaty palms barely managing to hold on. Symbols were inked into the margins of the book, odd drawings that seemed to pulse with a life of their own. Protection spells, moon phase rituals, and herbal remedies littered the pages. She continued flipping through the pages, her heart racing in her chest with each turn.

Pictures began swirling in her mind like leaves caught in a restless wind—she saw her father, warning her to be careful. Telling her that they’d see each other again one day—but he prayed it wouldn’t be soon. Jesse’s grandmother, with her hushed tones, whispering about the old ways and the forgotten magic that coursed through their town like a river, powerful and unforgiving.

It all felt too surreal, like trying to grasp something just beyond her reach, but what she was witnessing was beyond anything she could have ever imagined.

And then, there she was—her mother. Not the hazy, distant figure she’d clung to for comfort, but vibrant and alive in her memory, a beautiful vision that made Adla’s heart ache. Warm and inviting, like the embrace she’d yearned for all her life.

“Trust yourself, Adla,” she seemed to whisper. “Trust your instincts.”

Others came before her, people Adla had never known but whose voices echoed softly in her heart, offering wisdom in hushed tones. One woman, strikingly similar in looks, leaned in close, sharing a secret—something Adla desperately needed to hear. It was a truth she couldn’t reveal to Terry just yet—not with the stakes so high and their path forward clouded in uncertainty. Not when her own mind was still tangled up in it.

The truth hit her like a tidal wave: her family wasn’t just ordinary folk. Her father—he wasn’t the simple, practical man he pretended to be. Tears welled in her eyes as her vision blurred; he had known all along, carrying that heavy burden in silence.

A low creak pulled her from her reverie. Terry stood at the top of the loft stairs, his expression taut with tension. “You found it.” His voice was quiet, eyes drawn to the book cradled in her hands.

“My daddy gave the Chief the lunar chain to keep me safe. He threatened my daddy, sayin’ he knew he had it and better hand it over, or I’d be the one payin’ the price. We’ve got until the full moon to save Mike, or he won’t make it.”

Chapter 7.

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[hellinistical]

fem! reader x rafayel. royal! au. sea horror! au. heavy angst. minor and major character death. slow burn. romance. fluff. explicit smut. trauma. religious themes. gore; hinted torture, cannibalism, decapitation, self-cannibalism. violence. wc: 4796 | status: on-going

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II: GOLD STRUCK

The wagon wheels were obviously wobbly, the axles needing immediate tightening, not that anyone would care to repair them, though. The rainy season was in full effect, and the roads were the sky’s first victim. A dog chased after a squirrel, it’s barking annoying the merchant nearby. He cursed the dog and his bloodline. 

“To hell with Linkon! To hell with this damned town!” His broom thwacked at the wood sign on his stall. “When I catch you, you damned dog, why, you’ll be roasted with your litter!”

“Oh Mr. Heggins, relax! It’s just a dog!” “Just a dog? Why you- you let him out, didn’t you, Caleb? I should get you fired from the mines for this!”

Caleb laughed, crow's feet forming by his eyes as he smiled big. His hands held orchids. He had picked them from his mother's garden earlier that morning, meticulously picking the best ones without her knowing. In his pocket, a small box rested.

Mr. Heggins eyes note the flowers and the small lump in his pocket. 

“Today's the day, eh?”

Caleb nodded, his cheeks tinging with red. 

“Yes, sir. I plan to ask tonight.”

“Ah, before the king's carriages come? Bad timing, no?”

“No, sir.”

It's quiet for a moment before the old man speaks up. 

“And out of everyone you could have, you chose the L/n's daughter.” He lets out a pitiful chuckle. “I won't question it, but to each their own.” 

As the old man walked off, Caleb hummed, his hand going to his pocket, patting it affectionately as he walked on through the streets.

He grabbed some pumpkin bread, the honey, and roasted almonds on it making it smell heavenly. 

He collected some gifts. A doll, a kite, perfumes, and a watch. 

And then he headed off towards Linkon's hill village. 

*** Hot water splashed onto the weathered wood floorboards, the basin full to the brim. Sprigs of lavender, rosemary, and orange slices floated on the water, and Mrs. L/n poured fresh milk into the tub. 

“Is this really necessary?” Y/n huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. “I’m not getting in there- I won’t even be selected.” “Yes, you are. And I’m tired of you not listening to me.” “Mother- owowowowowowow!” 

The older woman grabbed her ear, pinching it lightly as she pulled her daughter towards the tub. Y/n held onto the wall, protesting. “I’m not going in there you; put milk in there! It’ll feel weird!” “Take the damn bath, child! Eva! Call your sisters and come here!”

“Coming, Mother!”

In moments, Y/n’s sisters came into the room. Eva smiled cheekily. “Today’s the day~!” “Like hell it is.” She shot back, wriggling in her mother’s grip. “You all act like you want me to get picked! Does Gran even know what you’re doing? Ma?” Her mother looked away, her hands going to the clasp on the back of Y/n’s dress. She undid it quickly, and the fabric pooled at her feet, ignoring her question.

“Strip out of your garments- Gods, you reek- is this wool? Y/n! You messed with the sheep again!” “I did not! I was with the ram- hey!” She placed her hand on the back of her head, the sting from her mother’s popping strong.

Lucy laughed, her chubby hands taking the stripped clothes to the wash.

“You’ve all gone mad. I hope you know that.” It comes out as a grumble, but she goes into the tub. But as soon as she stepped in, she complained. “The water’s freezing!” “That’s what you get for talking so long.” Her mother quipped. Her face sours as an orange slice touches her knee.

Raising her leg, Eva takes it, scrubbing it down as her mother starts to work on her hair. She hisses, her scalp tender as it gets scrubbed as well. 

“The weather is lovely, isn’t it?” “Just dandy.”

“What time is it?” “Half after 12, mother.” “Lord! We need to hurry then.” “Did you always have such a strawberry complexion, sister?” Y/n kicks water at her sister. “Quiet, you-”

She’s interrupted by her mother pouring a bucket of water over her head. Her hair gets thrown in her face, and she swallows some soapy, milky water, sputtering and coughing.

“Both of you, quiet. I’ll be damned if our good name is tarnished because you both decide to act like Neanderthals.

Y/n coughed out some more water. “I think calling me a Neanderthal isn’t fair- but Eva on the other hand- Oh my fucki- can you stop getting soap in my eyes?!”

“Language!”

***

Y/n shivers as she steps out of the basin, her arms crossed, knees turned, and locked. 

Some of the rosemary was tangled in her hair, but she paid it no mind.

Wrapping a towel around her body, Eva grabbed a comb, getting to work on untangling the knots and rosemary in her hair.

“This is ridiculous.”

“You would still get picked if you were covered in cow shit, so cease your bitching,” her mother shot back, not missing a beat as she scrubbed her daughter’s hair with renewed vigor.

Y/n's mouth dropped open, and she groaned. “You’re impossible!”

But her mother only raised an eyebrow. “And yet, here you are, complaining like always.”

Lucy waddled into the room, her small arms bundled up with a light blue chemise gown, the fabric soft and worn from years of storage. The short sleeves were cuffed, and though the dress had once been elegant, it was now out of date- the gaudy stitching showing the era it was from. Y/n’s eyes widened in horror as she realized what Lucy was holding.

“You can’t seriously expect me to—” Y/n began, her voice rising in protest.

But before she could finish, her mother yanked the towel off her body with practiced efficiency. “Of course not,” Mrs. L/n replied, her tone calm and unwavering. “Not until you’ve been plucked.”

Eva stepped forward, smirking as she handed her mother a razor, her grin mischievous. Y/n stared at it, her lips parting in disbelief. “Oh, come on...”

Mrs. L/n motioned for the sisters to leave. Eva, Lucy, and the others filed out, whispering and giggling amongst themselves as they shut the door behind them, leaving the room unusually still. The bright daylight streaming through the window seemed too cheerful for what was about to happen.

Y/n sighed heavily and sat on the small stool, arms wrapped around herself in half-hearted defiance. Her mother wordlessly knelt beside her, taking the razor and beginning the task of smoothing over her skin with slow, deliberate strokes.

For a few moments, the only sound in the room was the quiet scrape of the blade against her skin, the soft splash of water, and the occasional sigh from Y/n. It was a silence filled with things left unsaid, the weight of what was coming pressing on both of them.

Y/n looked down at her hands, picking at a loose thread on the towel. "I still don't think this is going to work. They'll want someone else," she murmured, not meeting her mother's eyes.

Her mother didn't respond immediately, her hands steady as she worked. Finally, she spoke, her voice softer than before. "It’s not about what they want, Y/n. It’s about what you’re worth. Remember, the better you do, the better we all do."

“Why do you want me to get picked so badly?” Y/n asked quietly, her voice trembling despite her attempts to sound nonchalant. “You know I’ll mess up.”

Mrs. L/n paused mid-stroke, her hands hovering for a moment before continuing, the razor gently gliding over her daughter's skin. She didn't meet Y/n’s gaze, but her words were firm.

“I don’t want you to go. What gave you that idea?”

Y/n blinked, caught off guard by the blunt response. Her throat tightened, but she said nothing, the silence suddenly heavy between them. 

Her mother’s eyes were fixed on her task, but the strain in her voice betrayed her emotions. “You think I want to see you paraded around like livestock? Gods know I don’t.” She set the razor aside for a moment, finally looking up at Y/n. “But if you’re chosen… at least you’ll be safe.”

Y/n swallowed hard, not knowing what to say. For once, she had no sharp retort.

"...They'll smell the farm on me," Y/n tried to joke, a small smirk tugging at her lips. "And it's not like the town doesn't have a reputation for me."

Mrs. L/n froze, her brow furrowing before she snapped, "Y/n M/n L/n. You will stop talking this instant!" She threw her hands up in exasperation, the razor clattering against the basin. “Ugh, by the Gods, you will jinx yourself, and no amount of rosemary will be able to fix it!”

Y/n bit her lip, stifling a laugh despite the tension in the air. She knew her mother meant well, but the whole situation still felt so surreal—so out of place for someone like her.

There was a knock on the door. Y/n's head snapped toward it, her brows knitting in confusion. Her father’s voice called through the wooden frame, calm and warm as always. 

“The boy is here, my loves.”

Y/n frowned. "Caleb? What’s he doing here?"

Mrs. L/n didn’t answer, her focus entirely on finishing the task at hand. She ignored Y/n’s questioning gaze and continued to move the razor carefully, finishing her legs before working up to her cunt.

"Never mind that," her mother finally said, her tone clipped. "We need to finish."

She turned toward the door, calling out in her usual brisk, commanding voice, “There’s a roast in the oven! Check it for me, please!”

“Aye, I will,” her father replied, the sound of his footsteps retreating down the hall.

Y/n slouched slightly on the stool, still puzzled. “He does know today is the collection, right?” Y/n asked, a hint of uncertainty creeping into her voice.

“Perhaps he’s wishing to bid you good luck. But it will have to wait,” her mother replied, still focused on her work.

“Oh.”

Y/n sighed, the thought lingering in her mind. It made sense enough. They had talked about their plans—what they would do if she didn’t get picked. Caleb would take his father’s horse, and they’d ride out of Linkon together. A smile tugged at her lips as she recalled the silly memory of him telling her the same thing every year. 

But she hadn’t seen him lately; he was always busy with family matters, tending to the farm, or preparing for whatever life awaited him. 

Once Y/n was dressed, she stood stiffly, adjusting the light blue gown that felt foreign against her skin. “I can feel every stitch, Mama.”

“It’s because your skin’s bare. It’s a good feeling. A good thing,” her mother replied, a hint of pride in her voice.

“I’ll get cold easier.”

“Oh please. You weren’t even furry,” her mother teased.

Y/n let out an unexpected laugh, the tension breaking for just a moment. But then the door swung open, and her father stepped in, whistling a cheerful tune.

“There she is. My darlings!” He kissed his wife and then pressed a warm kiss to Y/n’s cheek. He pauses. “You smell like the farm.”

Y/n shot a look at her mother. “Told you so.”

“He's messing with you,” her mother said, rolling her eyes.

Just then, Caleb ducked his head under the doorframe, a bright smile on his face. “Good evening, Mrs. L/n. I’ve brought gifts.”

“Gifts? You shouldn’t have!” her mother exclaimed, a warm smile spreading across her face.

“I wanted to,” Caleb said, his tone sincere.

“Oh, you sweet boy. Come, let’s go talk.” Mrs. L/n took Caleb’s hand, pulling him out of the washroom. 

As their eyes met, Caleb’s purple gaze sparkled with a kind of mischief that made Y/n’s heart race. She felt her cheeks heat up but managed to wave, a shy smile breaking through her earlier worries.

Once they left, Y/n found herself alone with her father in the warm, sunlit room. The air was thick with the lingering scents of lavender and rosemary, remnants of her mother’s frantic preparations. Mr. L/n glanced out the door, ensuring it was securely closed before turning to face her, his expression suddenly serious.

“Are you nervous, child?” he asked, his voice low and steady, a contrast to the bustling energy that had just filled the space.

“Nervous?” Y/n echoed, furrowing her brow in confusion. “About today?”

“Hm... no, can’t say I am.” She crossed her arms, trying to project confidence, but the truth was a tangle of emotions lay beneath her surface.

He studied her for a moment, the lines on his face deepening with concern. “You’re a horrible liar. That’s my fault. Should have taught you better.”

“Papa—”

“Listen. You’re no fool. You’ve got a good head on you,” he said, placing a hand on his chin, his thumb tracing the stubble there as he exhaled slowly, the weight of his thoughts pressing down like a storm cloud.

Y/n felt a knot tighten in her stomach, her heart racing as he continued. “That boy is going to propose. And you need to accept.”

Her eyes widened in shock, disbelief flashing across her face. “Huh?”

“That's how you don’t get picked,” he insisted, his tone firm yet gentle, as if trying to shield her from the harsh realities of their world.

“But—”

“Listen to me, child. You need to accept—today. Before it’s too late. Once you’re engaged, they can’t collect you.” 

“To Caleb?” she asked, her voice trembling with a mix of hope and uncertainty. The idea danced in her mind like a flickering flame, both enticing and frightening. Would it truly save her? 

“Yes!” he affirmed, leaning closer, his eyes locking onto hers with a fervent intensity. “You think we have luck when it comes to this sort of thing? We don’t,” Mr. L/n continued, his voice lowering even further as he leaned closer. “We should have married you to him months ago, but there was never an opportunity. We have the papers. You just need to have some witnesses—”

“You cheated the system?!” Y/n whisper-yelled, her eyes wide with a mix of disbelief and indignation.

“Of course I did!” he replied, a hint of pride breaking through his urgency. “I did it to protect you. You have no idea what they do to the girls they collect. We have to outsmart them.”

“I can’t marry Caleb! Are you crazy? I don’t even want to get married—” Y/n protested, her voice rising in disbelief.

“This isn’t about what you want! You love the boy; he loves you!” Mr. L/n countered, his frustration simmering beneath the surface.

“Yeah, but—” she started, her mind racing as she tried to find the right words.

“Listen to me,” he urged, his voice softening as he stepped closer. “This is about survival. The kingdom doesn’t care about your dreams or desires; they only see you as another name on a list. But if you’re engaged, they can’t touch you.”

Y/n took a deep breath, the reality of her situation weighing heavily on her chest. “What if Caleb doesn’t want this? What if he thinks I’m just using him?”

“Caleb knows—he's been helping orchestrate this!” Mr. L/n interjected, a mix of urgency and relief washing over him.

Y/n’s eyes widened in disbelief. “What do you mean he knows? How could you—?”

“I spoke to him. He understands the situation, Y/n. He’s been looking out for you, and he wants to keep you safe.” Her father’s voice softened, but the intensity of his words remained.

“Caleb is in on this?” she asked, her mind racing. The idea that Caleb had been part of this plan, that he had considered her fate alongside his own, sent her heart racing.

“Yes! He cares for you deeply, and he’s willing to do whatever it takes to protect you,” Mr. L/n explained, a hint of pride- and something else- in his voice.

She closed her eyes for a moment, envisioning Caleb’s kind smile and the playful banter they shared. Could he really be ready for something so serious? The thought of it both terrified and thrilled her. 

***

Caleb sat in the dingy dining room of the L/n household, his hand absently resting in his pocket. The scent of roasted meat wafted through the air, mingling with the musty smell of the worn furniture. Truthfully, the L/n farmland was rich and fruitful, bursting with potential, but the home itself felt shabby and neglected.

“Once we’re married, I can fix this place up…” he mumbled to himself, envisioning the changes he could make. The walls painted fresh, new furniture, perhaps even a small garden where Y/n could grow flowers. His heart swelled at the thought.

In the corner of the room, her sisters and mother were clustered together, giggling and gushing over the gifts he had brought—colorful ribbons, handmade trinkets, and sweets. Their excitement filled the air, but Caleb was lost in his own thoughts, barely noticing their chatter.

It wasn’t until Y/n emerged from the washroom, her father beside her, that he realized she was near. His heart skipped a beat as she stepped into the room, her vibrant orange hair catching the light. She looked radiant, even in the simple gown she wore, and a smile spread across his face as their eyes met.

“Good evenin', Y/n,” he greeted, warmth flooding his voice. “You look lovely.” 

Y/n’s cheeks flushed as she returned his smile, but there was an uncertainty in her gaze that made him wonder what was going through her mind. He wanted to ask about the selection ceremony, about her feelings, but for now, he simply stood there, hoping the moment would allow for the words to come.

“Er, hello, Caleb,” Y/n replied, her voice slightly shaky but warm.

He chuckled, a playful glint in his purple eyes. “You look like a strawberry.”

Eva snorted from the corner, unable to stifle her laughter. Y/n cleared her throat, determined to hold her ground. “Yes, well, thank you. They’re in season.”

“Are they now?” Caleb’s tone was teasing, and Y/n couldn’t help but smile despite the slight embarrassment. Strawberries weren’t in season, but he enjoyed the banter.

“They are,” she insisted, a spark lighting up her eyes.

“Then I trust you know where the ripe one is?” His gaze was warm, his smile contagious.

Y/n felt her cheeks flush deeper, but before she could respond, he gently took her hand, intertwining his fingers with hers. The touch sent a pleasant shiver down her spine. Together, they walked out of the house, the chatter of her family fading behind them.

As they stepped into the sunlit yard, the gentle breeze carried the scent of the sea, mingling with the earthy aromas of the farm. Caleb turned to her, his expression shifting to something more serious. “I’ve been thinking about what’s happening today…”

Y/n’s heart raced. She knew this was the moment to speak up, to share her fears and her father’s plan. But for now, she let the warmth of his hand and the softness of the afternoon settle around them, hoping to find the right words as they moved further from the house and deeper into the lush fields.

“Listen... I wanna marry you—” Caleb began, his tone earnest.

“Yes,” Y/n interrupted, her heart racing.

“What?” His expression shifted, surprise flashing across his face.

“Yes! I’ll marry you,” she declared, her excitement bubbling over.

“Let me finish,” he said, his brow furrowing slightly.

Y/n looked at him, confusion evident in her eyes.

Caleb’s smile faded, replaced by a serious expression. “Y/n. Don’t get me wrong. You’re a beautiful woman. And we’re good friends. But really, it’d be more of an exchange. I’ll marry you. But I want your father’s farm.”

Her eyes widened in disbelief. “Excuse me?”

“I mean it,” he pressed, his voice steady but tinged with urgency. “If we’re going to make this work, we need to secure the land. The L/n farm is rich, and with your hand in marriage, I’d have both a partner and a stake in something that could thrive.”

Y/n felt her heart drop. The warmth of the moment had evaporated, replaced by a chill of realization. “You want to marry me for the farm?” she asked, hurt creeping into her voice.

Caleb’s expression hardened, his jaw set. “You thought this wouldn’t have an exchange? Marriage is a contract. I keep you safe, I get the land.”

“I can’t give you what isn’t mine,” Y/n shot back, her voice rising in disbelief.

“Look, you’re inheriting the farm. Your father is old. When I marry you, I inherit the farm instead. You’ll still have your sheep and goats, but I want you to stay in the gardens with the flowers.” He stepped closer, his eyes earnest. “Think about it. I’ll spruce the place up, combine our land. We can make a name for ourselves!”

Y/n stared at him, the weight of his words settling heavily on her shoulders. “You’re talking about my life as if it’s just an asset, Caleb! What if I don’t want to be tied to the farm? What if I want to travel, to explore beyond Linkon?”

He paused, the intensity in his eyes faltering. “But this is our home! This is where our lives are. We can make it better together.”

Caleb’s expression softened momentarily, but he quickly masked it with determination. “I’m not trying to control you! I just see potential—”

“Potential for what? For you to fulfill your dreams at the expense of mine?” Y/n felt anger bubbling inside her. “You’re reducing our relationship to a business deal!”

“I’m trying to think practically!” he insisted, frustration creeping into his voice. “We live in a harsh world, Y/n. If you get chosen today, it could be the end of everything for us. I just want to protect you!.... I care about you. But this isn’t just about us. It’s about doing what’ll be best.”

Silence hung between them, heavy with unspoken words and emotions. Y/n looked at him.

...Why did it feel scripted?

She ignores the brief thought, letting it slip just as quickly as it had arrived. “I need time to think,” she said, her voice barely a whisper.

“You don’t have time to think,” Caleb said suddenly, pulling a small box from his pocket. He opened it to reveal a simple yet elegant ring. “I got the ring. Just wear it.”

“You’re kidding,” Y/n replied, disbelief flooding her voice.

“I’m not,” he insisted, his gaze steady.

“Caleb—” she started, but he interrupted her.

“That farm is precious, and your family doesn’t even see it. Just marry me and let me help you.”

Y/n’s heart raced as she stared at the ring. “You can’t just expect me to decide everything right now! This is my life we’re talking about!”

“I know it is! But we’re out of time. If you don’t make a choice before the selection, you could end up as one of those girls, the ones that don't get anything good!”

The gravity of his words settled in her chest like a stone. She thought of the stories her grandmother had told her, the dark legends woven through the village about the gathering and the sacrifices. The idea of becoming one of those girls made her stomach churn.

“Caleb, this isn’t the way,” she said, shaking her head. “I don’t want to feel like I’m being sold off or bartered for land.”

“But you wouldn’t be! You’d be marrying someone who loves you, who wants to protect you!” He took a step closer, desperation flickering in his eyes. “Please, just wear the ring. We can figure everything else out together.”

Scripted. It felt so scripted. But why?

Y/n felt torn, her heart battling against her mind. The prospect of safety and partnership clashed with her desire for freedom and choice. “I… I need to think about it,” she said, her voice trembling.

“Look, if you’re not gonna marry me, I can wait for Eva. Or I’ll marry Lorraine—”

“Eva? Lorraine? Excuse me? Them of all people?” Y/n shot back, incredulous. The idea felt like a slap. Lorraine was the village gossip, always getting into trouble and never taking anything seriously. And her sister? Absolutely.

Caleb shrugged, a smirk playing on his lips. “I’m just saying, she wouldn’t mind. If you don’t want me, someone else will step in.”

“Right, because that’s how love works,” Y/n snapped, her frustration boiling over. “You can’t just jump from one sister to another like we’re some kind of game to you!”

“It’s not a game!” he argued, stepping closer, the tension thickening the air between them. “This is about survival, Y/n! Don’t you see? You can either have me fighting for you or risk being taken away, offered to the sea. I don’t want to lose you!”

Y/n’s heart raced as she considered his words again, the weight of the impending selection pressing down on her. The fear of the Dark Sea loomed larger than ever. “But I don’t want to feel trapped,” she said, her voice quieter now, almost pleading.

Caleb softened, his expression earnest. “You won’t be trapped with me. We can make it work, and build a life together. Just think about it—before it’s too late.”

As she looked into his eyes, Y/n felt a swirl of emotions—fear, anger, and- disgust? But the thought of marrying him out of desperation gnawed at her conscience. “I need more time- stop saying we don't have it."

“Time is the one thing we don’t have,” he replied, frustration creeping back into his voice. “Please, just wear the ring. Show me you’ll consider this. I can’t bear the thought of you being chosen—”

“Y/n! Come on, we’re waiting for you!” Eva’s voice called from the house, pulling her back to reality.

Caleb took her hand, his grip firm but gentle, as he slid the ring onto her finger. “Insurance. Just in case,” he said, his voice steady despite the uncertainty swirling around them.

Y/n blinked, her heart racing, but before she could respond, laughter echoed from inside the house. Her family had gathered, and when they saw Caleb placing the ring on her finger, their cheers erupted like a sudden storm.

“Oh, look at that!” her mother exclaimed, beaming. “My darling Y/n is engaged!”

Y/n’s eyes widened in shock. “No! Wait!” But the joyous noise drowned out her protests. Eva clapped her hands, and Lucy jumped up and down, her chubby cheeks flushed with excitement.

“Caleb! You clever boy!” Eva gushed. “We knew you’d come through!”

“But you don’t understand—” Y/n started, but her voice was lost in the commotion.

“Come here, you two!” Mrs. L/n pulled Y/n into a tight embrace, tears of joy glimmering in her eyes. “I’m so proud of you, my sweet girl. You’re all grown up!”

Y/n felt the weight of her mother’s affection, but dread settled heavily in her chest. She glanced at Caleb, searching for a flicker of understanding, but he was caught up in the whirlwind of celebration, a victorious grin plastered across his face.

“Now we can start planning the wedding!” her mother continued, clapping her hands together. “This is wonderful news! The whole village will be thrilled!”

Y/n’s heart sank. The idea of a wedding felt like a chain, tightening around her, and the implications of her father’s words crashed over her again. Marrying Caleb was supposed to be a lifeline, a way to escape the selection—but something was off.

“Are you really happy about this?” she whispered to Caleb, who was now being congratulated by her father.

He turned, his expression earnest. “Of course I am. This is our chance. You’ll see.”

But Y/n could only nod, a forced smile on her lips, as the celebration continued around her. 

And in the distance, carriages were coming, adorned with the rain clouds. 

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