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clottedcreamtea · 1 year

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edit after edit after edit, i would like to present to you the 5 page prologue of a hopefully very long novel all about Royal Milk Tea Cookie, his origin, and his slowburn childhood friends-to enemies-to lovers dynamic.

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Earthbread had been ravaged by war and destruction for months as the evil sorceress, Dark Enchantress Cookie, fought against the Five Heroes. The Dark Cacao Kingdom, while its king was protective of its people, was often left in crumbs after every harsh winter and attack from the beasts that roamed the many snowy, chocolate forests.

Within those forests lay several milk villages, where milk Cookies were born healers, with powerful milk magic baked deep in their dough. They were the Dark Cacao Kingdom’s greatest asset, apart from its many brave warriors. Their milk magic healed hurt Cookies and was often sought after by those who understood its power.

One of the many Milk Cookies was Oat Milk Cookie: a kind healer who had been taught by her family to always open her arms to those in need.

On one faithful night, those lessons were applied.

There were myths and legends that swept Earthbread as the Dark Flour Wars raged on, made to soothe children at night, and provide hope that salvation would come. One of the many legends was that of a brave, dragon-slaying knight Cookie. He was said to be the leader of the Tea Leaf Order of knights, who fought beasts all across the world.

Oat Milk Cookie had been brewing herself a cup of warm tea to calm herself during a particularly bad storm when she heard a commotion outside her door.

“He looks awful!”

“Is that the knight from the legend?”

“Why isn’t he fighting with the Five Heroes?”

Draping her cerulean cloak over her pale, milky dough, Oat Milk Cookie stepped outside and was met with a menacing armored figure approaching the village square. Looking closer, she saw that the knight was limping. As the rest of the village stared in awe, Oat Milk Cookie rushed forward to help the knight into her home.

“Come, please,” Oat Milk Cookie said, “Let me heal your wounds and treat you to a warm meal.”

Grunting in acknowledgment, the knight took hold of Oat Milk Cookie, placing a muscled arm over her shoulders to support himself. The pair slowly made their way toward Oat Milk Cookie’s home, ignoring the prying eyes of the village.

Shutting the door behind her, Oat Milk Cookie quickly got to work making the knight comfortable and pouring a cup of the tea she had just brewed into a mug and handing it to her new guest.

“Here,” She placed the mug in the knight’s armored hands. “Drink this. It has my village’s healing milk in it.”

The knight set the mug on the table beside the chair he had sat in, and moved his hands to his helmet, removing it with a loud grunt. Oat Milk Cookie was in awe of the knight’s appearance; his hair was white as the blizzard’s snow outside, his eyes were a piercing blue, and his face was littered with scars and marks from the many battles he had fought in.

“Thank you,” The knight finally said aloud, voice rough like gravel. He felt a warm glow fill his cheeks as he finally took in the beauty that was this kind, milk villager. Her hair was white and pure, her face brown and crisp, and her smile warm and sweet. “Your kindness is unwarranted, I must say. I am a stranger in your village, and yet you are taking such care of me.”

Oat Milk Cookie felt pity fill her heart. Why would she not take care of a stranger? Her parents had raised her just as well as the next Cookie with empathy running deep in her dough, as deep as her milk magic.

Taking a deep breath, Oat Milk Cookie approached the knight again, turning her attention to his wounded leg as she explained her kindness. “My parents were kindhearted, and so they raised me to be kindhearted, as well. I want only the best for those in my village, and that extends to Cookies who are merely visitors.” Oat Milk Cookie rapped on the knight’s leg armor. “Can we get this off so I can get a better look at your leg?”

The knight nodded and stood up to strip himself out of his clunky, shining armor. Bit by bit, the knight Cookie removed his safeguard to allow this sweet Cookie to see his cracked dough and charred skin. “There we go,” the knight said with a huff, removing the last piece from his leg. “You should be free to heal me as you wish.”

Oat Milk Cookie felt as though she was as bright as a berry. As he had taken off his armor, the knight revealed great muscles and scars on his body, which Oat Milk Cookie found immensely appealing. Shaking herself from her state of awe, the healer got to work. Grabbing a few items from one of her cabinets, she removed the cloth covering the knight’s leg, poured a liquid on it (presumably milk, the knight assumed), and closed her eyes only for a moment, before a bright glare filled the den and the knight’s dough pulled itself back together, making it look as though there was never a crack at all.

“Amazing,” the knight breathed. He began to move his leg around, baffled by the fact it felt as though he had been freshly baked. “You’re incredible! You must join me on my adventures as my designated healer! The Tea Leaf Order could use someone as talented as you people!”

Oat Milk Cookie stood up and smiled, putting away all of her magical items. “I’m too dedicated to my village,” She said simply, closing the cabinet doors. “My family has grown up here, and though I’ve moved around, I wish to stay here. You seem like a wonderful Cookie, but you are a traveler and I am not.”

“My name is Ceylon Tea Cookie,” The knight stood up as well, approaching his host kindly. “Most Cookies refer to me simply as Tea Knight Cookie, though. I have earned the title.”

As the two stood close together in the warmth of Oat Milk Cookie’s home, they couldn’t help but feel the chemistry that was forming between them. As the sun set and the storm worsened, Oat Milk Cookie insisted Tea Knight Cookie spend the knight with her.

The two confided in each other about hopes and dreams, and Oat Milk Cookie asked many questions about what a knight does. Tea Knight Cookie said he is the leader, and so he defends all of his soldiers without a second thought. “This next dragon,” Tea Knight Cookie began, laying under the soft, cotton blankets beside Oat Milk Cookie, “Shall be one of our greatest enemies yet. They say it grants wishes to Cookies in times of need.”

Wishes? Oat Milk Cookie was amazed. Tea Knight Cookie must live an incredible life, she assumed. The conversation slowly drifted away, and so did the pair of Cookies. Falling asleep peacefully, Oat Milk Cookie dreamed of all her wishes coming true.

Months passed. Oat Milk Cookie had said farewell to Ceylon– Tea Knight Cookie long ago, and she only hoped that he would soon come back not only to see her, but the child that she had been blessed with.

Within the short, wonderful day that the two Cookies had met, Oat Milk Cookie had been graced with Tea Knight Cookie’s dough to bake a child in her village. She wouldn’t be able to keep the baby, of course. With the constant struggle of the Milk Village to stay stable and safe for all its villagers, along with caring for all the animals in the village, Oat Milk Cookie had too much on her plate. The baby had been born just yesterday, and the entire town was fighting to keep beasts away from the infant Cookie, just as Oat Milk Cookie knew would be the case.

“Look! He’s back!” A Cookie called from the center square. Gasps were heard from all the villagers as, once more, Tea Knight Cookie approached the village in his menacing, silver armor.

Oat Milk Cookie rushed forward, scrambling through the snow to see her beloved once again. “Ceylon!” She cried, tears filling her eyes from the piercing cold and the emotion overwhelming her. “Ceylon, I have news!”

The knight embraced the milk villager, twirling her through the air before setting her back down, and rushing to get inside her home.

Tea Knight Cookie removed his helmet and placed a fond kiss upon Oat Milk Cookie’s lips. “Oh, dearest Oat Milk Cookie,” Tea Knight Cookie breathed, still holding Oat Milk Cookie close. “What news do you have to share with me? Has a dragon struck the land? We’ve been hunting this one down for ages, and–”

“You have a son. I have named him Milk Tea Cookie, after both of us.”

Tea Knight Cookie’s face fell as he watched Oat Milk Cookie carry a young Cookie over in her arms. His hair was chocolate brown, and his eyes were piercing blue, just as Tea Knight Cookie’s were.

“He’s my son?” Tea Knight Cookie said, awestruck. Oat Milk Cookie nodded.

“I cannot take care of him,” She said, sadly, passing her child into Tea Knight Cookie’s arms. “The village is wracked with injured Cookies and sick young children, and I am the caretaker of most of the village. I wish for you to take him away to a better home.”

“But I am nomadic!” Tea Knight Cookie expressed, anxiously. “I cannot care for a child on the road. I am injured day after day fighting mighty beasts!”

Oat Milk Cookie placed a gentle hand on the cheek of Tea Knight Cookie, feeling his cracked dough and wishing she could heal him again with her magic. “You don’t need to keep him with you,” The villager explained. “Merchants from the Crème Republic stopped by not too long ago, telling us of their up-and-coming villa, where many successful elders possess political power that we could not comprehend.

“I wish for you to cross the sea and take him to that place, so that he may find a better life than living as a simple milk villager in the Dark Cacao Kingdom’s forest.”

Tea Knight Cookie was… unsure of the best course of action. This was his child, there was no question, but he did not want to simply pass him off to some stranger in a new place that he had no clue about. “I will take him to this Republic, but I will not allow just any Cookie to be his parent,” The knight bargained. “I will observe all of these elders and decide which one shall provide our son with the best prospects.”

Oat Milk Cookie nodded solemnly. “That sounds… wise. Please, know that I only wish to send him away because I cannot promise him survival here. The king says that Dark Enchantress Cookie could strike at any moment, and I cannot risk our child’s safety!”

Tea Knight Cookie looked at Oat Milk Cookie with the utmost sympathy. He smiled bittersweetly and spoke softly. “I understand, dearest. I know you wish the best for our child, and I will gladly take him wherever you wish as long as he is safe and cared for. I am in need of no healing tonight; I merely wished to see you after so many months as I was within the Dark Cacao Kingdom’s borders again.”

“So when will you depart?”

“Whenever you are ready to say goodbye,” Tea Knight Cookie said, sadly. “For this shall be my final mission. Once my soldiers have defeated the dragon, I shall retire and find my way back to you.”

Oat Milk Cookie grinned. “You mean it?”

“Of course I do.”

Inhaling deeply, Oat Milk Cookie readied herself for a difficult goodbye. “Well, if you leave sooner then you’ll be able to make your way back to me quicker, as well.”

Holding his son close to him, Tea Knight Cookie hugged Oat Milk Cookie closely, pressing several kisses to her face, making her laugh joyously at the affection. The two lovers did not want to bid farewell, but they knew that goodbye could not last forever, and they soon let each other go. Tea Knight Cookie began his trek through the harsh cold with his child tucked between his arms, bracing himself for any danger the pair may run across.

Tears filling her eyes, Oat Milk Cookie ran to her window and began to pray for her lover and her child’s safety as they traveled toward the Crème Republic. “Please,” The Cookie said, looking into the snow-filled sky with near desperation. “Please let them be safe on their travels. I only wish for my son to reach the Republic safely and achieve great success once he is older. I wish for his journey not to be for naught. Please,” Oat Milk Cookie’s white hair seemed to blow around her face, framing her head like a halo. “Please, I just want him to be happy.”

As soon as Oat Milk Cookie finished her plea to the sky, the world seemed to darken. Cookies began screaming and running for cover. Oat Milk Cookie’s windows flew open, letting snow cover her floors and furniture as the villager struggled to stand.

“COOKIE OF THE MILK VILLAGE OF THE EAST,” A voice boomed. It sounded as though it was coming from everywhere at once, though Oat Milk Cookie could not see who was speaking. “YOU HAVE MADE A WISH TO THE SPIRITS AND I SHALL GRANT IT.”

Tea Knight Cookie had warned Oat Milk Cookie about a dragon on the loose within the Dark Cacao Kingdom, and here it was now. A green dragon had appeared outside of Oat Milk Cookie’s window, green wings spread wide in an intimidating stance. The dragon’s teeth were bared and its eyes were narrowed. Bright pink flowers seemed to follow it everywhere it flew. While sound flooded her ears, Oat Milk Cookie could not see the dragon’s mouth move.

“You’ll grant my wish?” Oat Milk Cookie repeated, incredulously. “You mean it? Milk Tea Cookie and Ceylon Tea Cookie will reach the Republic safely?”

The dragon nodded and flapped its wings once, blowing more snow into Oat Milk Cookie’s cottage. “INDEED I SHALL. ON ONE CONDITION!”

Oat Milk Cookie was breathless. She would do anything to ensure that sending away her only child was not a poor choice. “Anything! What do I need to do?”

“ONCE BOTH WISHES ARE FULFILLED– YOUR BELOVED HAS RETURNED SAFELY FROM HIS JOURNEY AND YOUR SON HAS ACHIEVED BOTH SECURITY AND SUCCESS, I SHALL RETURN BACK TO YOU AND COLLECT YOUR SOUL STONES AS PAYMENT.”

“My Soul Stones? But that means that…”

“A DRAGON IS UNABLE TO GRANT EVERY WISH WITHOUT A PRICE. FOR EVERY THOUSAND WISHES I HAVE GRANTED, ONE COOKIE HAS SACRIFICED HIMSELF FOR THE WISHES OF OTHERS TO BE GRANTED.”

Oat Milk Cookie weighed her options. Though this meant she would never meet her son, it did ensure a safe life and a successful future for Milk Tea Cookie. She clutched her blue cloak close against her body, thinking hard about what to do. One thousand wishes would be granted to every Cookie after her as long as she accepted the price the dragon was offering her, and that was a hefty reward for one Cookie’s sacrifice.

“Fine,” Oat Milk Cookie decided, looking up at the great green dragon. “Once both of my wishes have been granted, I will wait for you to collect my Soul Stones,” I just won’t wait for you here.

The dragon huffed, seemingly satisfied with the exchange. Without another word, it flapped its great wings and flew off into the night, allowing the sky to lighten again, and all the milk villagers to wonder why their village had been cursed with such darkness for such a fleeting moment.

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IF YOU HAVE FEEDBACK PLEASE TELL ME!!!!! thank u :) i’ll be publishing this on some website eventually. i want to get a few more chapters written before it goes anywhere big :)))

#cookie run kingdom #cookie run #royal milk tea cookie #oat milk cookie #tea knight cookie #cookie run fanfic #fanfiction #writing #dark cacao kingdom #crk #cr kingdom #how to tag #i am obsessed with this prologue #i rewrote it three times #this is the best version #its lyrical almost #plz enjoy

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yandere-daydreams · 6 months

Text

Title: Idolification.

Pairing: Yandere!Itadori Yuuji x Reader (JJK).

Word Count: 5.0k.

TW: No Curse/College AU, Fem!Reader, Non/Con, Prolonged Stalking, (Unintentional) Emotional Manipulation, Oral Sex, Drunk Sex, Unprotected Sex, Age Gap (Reader's 27, Yuuji's 22), Intimidation, Brief Mommy Kink, Pepper Spray, and Obsessive Behavior. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat.

“I’m so, so, so, so sorry.”

“It was an accident, you don’t have to—” Yuuji was cut off by another splash of milk, quickly followed by another jet of water. Her makeshift treatment was harsh, the temperature alternating unpredictably between ice cold and scalding hot, but Yuuji took the abuse with a smile that was almost bright enough to distract you from the red, aggravated skin around his eyes. Almost. “It’s alright,” he managed, eventually, doing his best not to sound like he was being slowly drowned in your bathtub. “Believe it or not, that’s only the second worst thing I’ve gotten in my eyes.”

Knowing him, it was probably closer to the fourth or fifth, but that did little to ease your guilt. He’d been leaving as you were getting home from your second twelve-hour shift of the week, and from there, it’d been a comedy of errors. He spotted you coming down the hall, haggard and bleary-eyed, and saw the babysitter who’d spent more summers than not keeping him (and, by association, his older half-brother) out of trouble before their family fell off of the face of the planet, and reacted the way Yuuji reacted to most things – with open arms and a contagious smile. You’d looked at him, a far cry from the kid you’d spent so much time looking after, and seen a very strange, very grown man loitering outside of the door to your shoebox of an apartment before charging towards you with a manic expression and, well, you had always wanted an excuse to use the pepper spray you carried near-religiously. It was only a shame it had to be on someone as sweet as Yuuji.

Now, you were on your knees on the floor of your bathroom, your fingers tangled in Yuuji’s hair as your roommate gently waterboarded him with a cartoon of organic oat milk in one hand and your decade-old showerhead in the other. The front of his t-shirt was soaked through, his lung half-flooded at least, but he was still grinning like you’d greeted him with a blank check and a litter of puppies. “Honestly, it’s on me,” he insisted, his enthusiasm too potent not to be genuine. “Miss Shoko mentioned she was living with someone.”

At the mention of your roommate, Shoko Ieiri, your attention shifted to the woman in-question. You weren’t an idiot. After the shock died down, it hadn’t taken long for you to piece together why a young man would be rushing to get out of your apartment while your attractive (albeit, socially dead) roommate was home alone. When she met your prying eyes, you shot her a pointed glare. “Cradle rocker.”

She threatened to turn the showerhead on you, but relented as soon as you flinched away. “He’s in one of my classes,” she muttered, then pushed herself to her feet with a soft groan. “We’re out of milk,” she said, shaking the empty carton. “Let his eyes air-dry. I’ll be in my office – come get me if he starts crying again.”

“I’m a doctor too, y’know.”

“You’ll be a doctor in another year. Right now, you’re an intern.” She eyed Yuuji wearily. “An intern who physically assaults her patients, at that.”

Without any real way to retort, you stuck your tongue out – a gesture Shoko mimicked as she slipped out of the crime scene that was your bathroom. Despite Shoko’s advice, you fished a towel off the nearest rack and handed it to Yuuji, who accepted it with a grateful hum. “I really am sorry,” you repeated, burying your face in your hands. “It’s just, it’s been so long, and you look so different, and god, it’s been—”

“—ten years,” Yuuji filled in, probably tired of hearing you repeat the same two excuses. “I remember, ‘cuz you invited us to your graduation that year. I wanted to go, too, but Gramps got sick and…” He trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck with an airy chuckle. “You know how it is.”

“Oh my god,” you gasped. “I loved your grandfather. How is he?”

Yuuji’s smile wavered for the first time. “He passed, actually. A few years ago.”

Fuck.

If the building was going to collapse and bury you in the rubble, that would’ve been the time.

“Sukuna’s doing good, though,” Yuuji went on, kind enough to pretend there hadn’t been a lapse. “He opened a restaurant a few months ago. It’s a hole-in-the-wall kind of place, but it’s been keeping him out of the ring.” His expression brightened. “And you’re a doctor! I mean, I knew you would be, but you’re a doctor!”

You felt your face heat up his brother’s name, your eyes falling to the tiled floor. “Almost a doctor. I just started my internship.” And they’d already managed to work you half to death. “You’re in med school, right? Shoko never teaches undergrad.”

“It’s my first semester,” he said with a slight laugh. “It’s harder than I thought it’d be, though. Miss Shoko offered to give me a few pointers, but, y’know—” He sighed, let his head lull back. “I’m starting to think I’m just not smart enough for stuff like this.”

“You shouldn’t say that kind of thing about yourself. You’ve always been—” You cut yourself off with a sudden gasp, clapping your hands together. “If you’re struggling, let me help you study! I have tomorrow off, and I promise, I’m not as strict as Shoko.”

Immediately, he straightened up, your towel still strung around his neck and his smile returned to its full brightness. It only dimmed slightly when he glanced down at his damp shirt. “…there won’t be as much pepper spray this time, right?”

His smile was as contagious as it’d been when he was still a kid, begging you to let him stay up yet another hour past his already-lenient bedtime. Despite his bloodshot eyes and your lingering, only slightly lessened guilt, you found yourself biting back a grin.

“No pepper spray, this time. I promise.”

“Room for one more?”

She glanced over her shoulder as you struggled past the jammed sliding door, taking a moment to evaluate your stiff shoulders and strained smile over the thick frames of her glasses before nodding curtly. Your relief was immediate and all-encompassing. Honestly, you should’ve known better than to do anything but shake your head and flee the country when Yuuji invited you to hang out with a few of his friends, but he’d sworn up and down that it wasn’t a party and promised that you wouldn’t be out of place and pouted in a way you’d never been able to resist. You were starting to think that, no matter how old you got, you’d never learn to say ‘no’ to Yuuji.

The blaring music was only vaguely muffled by the glass, the blurry outlines of other guests playing behind thin curtains. There was a red solo cup in your hand, a lipstick stain on your cheek from a girl who’d passed out half an hour ago, but you were hyper-aware that you were too old to be at a college party with people at least half a decade younger than you, in the best cases. You braced yourself against the balcony railing with a soft groan, crossing your arms and hanging your head low enough to warrant a hum of sympathy from the woman next to you. She held up a box of cigarettes – the cheap kind you and Shoko used to split on the days you had to decide between food and rent – and you accepted her offer with the kind of gratitude you could only assume a starving lion would’ve shown to a limping gazelle.

“Maki,” she said, shaking one into your open palm and fishing a lighter out of her pocket. “You’re one of Itadori’s friends?”

“You could say that.” You let her light you up before taking a shaky drag, the bitter taste a welcome distraction. “I’ve been tutoring him for a few weeks. I think he just invited me as a way to say ‘thank you’.”

Her eyes flashed with recognition, the corner of his lips turning upward for the first time. “You’re the chick who used to babysit him. (Y/n), right?”

“He’s mentioned me?”

“He won’t shut up about you. Every other word out of his mouth is ‘(Y/n) this’ or ‘(Y//n) that’.” She tapped her cigarette against the edge of the railing, sending a few flakes of ash fluttering down to the street below. “Megumi gets it the worst, but we’ve all had to see the fucking pictures.”

“That… that sounds like him.” You forced out a half-hearted laugh, then wavered. “I’m sorry, pictures?”

Maki opened her mouth, but the balcony door was jerked open before she could respond. Yuji appeared in the open entryway, cheeks flushed and grin wide. He drawled your name in a single slur before moving on to more important topics. “We found a—We found a karaoke machine! ‘gumi thinks he can get it running!”

You sent Maki an apologetic look, but she only shrugged, a sliver of a grin. “Better get him tucked in.”

This time, when you smiled back, it didn’t quite reach your eyes.

It took a month for Yuuji to start ‘forgetting’ his textbooks when he came over for your little study sessions.

It took three for Yuuji to drop the pretense of studying at all – calling you out to some late-night diner or lethargic early-morning café or, better yet, showing up at your apartment door unannounced and empty-handed with only that unnerving smile and a half-baked excuse to spend time with you.

It took six for his hand to drift just a little lower than your shoulder while you watched some awful, b-rated horror movie on your well-beaten couch. You let him reach your waist before clearing your throat and shifting away, your smile pained.

“I… I think you should probably leave,” you half-mumbled, your voice shaking. “It’s getting late.”

“We haven’t even gotten to the best part yet.” Predictably, Yuuji was undeterred. His persistence used to be endearing, but now, it just felt unfair. “I don’t mind sleeping over, if that’s what you’re worried about. It’s not like we’ve never spent the night together.”

A nervous laugh, his hand planted just a little too close to your thigh. “I wish you wouldn’t phrase it like—”

“I mean, I know I’m your type.” It was almost impressive, what he could say with such an innocent expression. His free hand found its way to your other side, pinning you between the arm of the couch and his broad chest. “I know you had a thing for Sukuna, and everyone says we’re practically identical. That means you should be into me too, right?”

“Yuuji,” Your eyes darted to your phone, left absent-mindedly on your coffee table. The urge was there, but it wasn’t like he would actually hurt you. He’d always been a sweet kid – a little overzealous, but that wasn’t a crime. This was just… a bad decision, one you had to stop him from making before he did something he’d regret. “Sukuna is my age, and—”

“I don’t care about that.” He cut in swiftly, definitively. His bright eyes had glazed over, catching the dim light of your T.V. as he leaned in further, as his face came to hover less than a full breath away from yours. “I’ve loved you since I was eight. Can Sukuna say that?”

“That’s not—”

“I know you used to fuck him.” His chest was touching yours, now, his breath hot against your skin. “I know you’d fuck him again, if he was here. I know—”

You didn’t give him a chance to finish. It was a weak blow, simultaneously hesitant and instinctual, but your open palm made contact with his cheek with a deafening crack, his head snapping to the side and putting that much more distance between his body and yours. He moved to cup his swelling cheek, and you took the opportunity to slip out from underneath him and stumble to your feet. “I think you should leave,” you repeated, the words spat hastily enough to blend together. “Please, Yuuji.”

For a second, he didn’t move, didn’t speak.

Then, he turned to face you, his smile wiped away and his expression so blank, you couldn’t remember how you’d ever looked at him and saw anything other than void.

He didn’t say anything, only pushing himself to his feet and shambling out of your living room. You kept your eyes on the ground until his footsteps faded out of earshot, until you heard the front door creak open and slam shut with enough force to shake the walls.

When you were sure he was gone, you collapsed onto your couch and laid motionless while an actress screamed in the background.

“Your golden boy’s asking about you, again.”

You groaned, buckling at the waist and burying your face in your arms. Shoko glanced up from the exams she was grading, but whatever sympathy she might’ve felt apparently didn’t warrant the effort it would’ve taken to reach across the table to comfort you. “Satoru’s been getting it, too,” she went on. “That’s how you know it’s bad. I can’t remember the last time someone managed to talk over that narcissist.”

“I’m sorry.” You couldn’t remember how many times you’d already apologized for Yuuji’s recent fixation. “He’s… probably just worried about his grades, or something.”

Her lips quirked into a frown. “What are you talking about?”

“I was helping him study,” you admitted, reluctantly. As much as Shoko had to hear about your unruly patients and patronizing coworkers, you’d been less open about how much time you were spending with a student fresh out of undergrad. “He’s never been that good with school. I used to have to help him with his homework in elementary school, too.”

This time, she decided your conversation was important enough to earn her full attention. “Itadori’s one of my best students.”

You felt your chest tighten. “But, the first time he came over, you were tutoring—”

She said your name, curt and blunt, and you went quiet. With a sigh, she shook her head, dropping her pen entirely. “When was the last time I offered to personally tutor a struggling student?”

You swallowed dryly. “Never.”

“And when was the last time I gave our full address out to literally anyone?”

“Never,” you said, again. After a second, you added, “Well, there was that one time with Iori…”

“Not the point. I know you don’t want to hear it, but the kid’s a creep. You might have to—”

She was cut off by your phone buzzing against the table. Your eyes scanned over the caller’s name scrawled across the dim screen before moving back to Shoko, her gaze now narrowed into a sharp glare. “Don’t.”

And, for a second, you didn’t. You convinced yourself that you wouldn’t. You told yourself that, after you bought Satoru around of drinks as an apology, you’d do… you’d do something about Yuuji, even if you weren’t sure what you could do, just yet.

Then, you let yourself picture the kid you used to watch for a few dollars an hour while his grandfather was sick and his brother was on the other side of town doing something dubiously legal at best, dead in a ditch at worst – all wide eyes and scuffed elbows and lopsided grins. You let yourself remember the way he’d ramble about his day after you picked him up from school, and how excited he was the first time you made it to one of his school’s sports days, and how he’d clung to you and sobbed the day before his family moved to the other side of the country. At the time, you’d been thankful to have one less responsibility, relieved that you’d never have to see Sukuna again. You’d been selfish, even for a kid.

The phone was in your hand in a moment, the call answered in another. You stood as you brought it to your ear, hoping that would be enough to block out Shoko’s mumbled cursing.

“Yuuji?”

The silence in your car was thick, nearly suffocating.

It’d been one of Yuuji’s friends calling from his phone – the dark-haired one with the monotone voice, barely audible over the blaring music of whichever nightclub they were standing outside of. He’d asked you to, in his own words, ‘come get your problem child’, and when you’d asked why Yuuji needed you specifically, he’d only handed the phone back to Yuuji and let you listen to a full minute of whining, your name the only coherent thing to make it off of Yuuji’s tongue. Shoko urged you not to go, and yet, twenty minutes later, Yuuji was slumped over in your passenger seat, his eyes narrowed and his lips pursed in an uncharacteristic frown.

He was less talkative than he’d been on the phone. The clingier stages of his inebriation had passed, leaving room for a disassociated sort of passiveness that meant, even if you’d been brave enough to try and start a conversation, his response wouldn’t be anything worth that kind of effort. By the time you reached his apartment complex, the knot sitting at the pit of your stomach was equal parts dread and second-hand embarrassment, but you tried to keep your tone light as you turned to him. “It’s time to get out, Yuuji.” And then, when he failed to move, “You’re on your own from here.”

He looked at you, eyes unfocused and hands folded almost childishly over his lap. You softened more than you should’ve at the sight. “…do you need help getting home?”

A second of thought, a quick nod. You shouldn’t. You knew that you really, really shouldn’t.

And yet, somehow, you found yourself in front of Yuuji’s door, fussing over the lock as Yuuji clung to your side, his face buried in the dip of your shoulder. He was cooperative enough; able to stand on his own with minimum swaying but not so lucid that it took more than a gentle suggestion to lead him to his bedroom, where he was more than happy to collapse onto his unmade bed. With a shaky exhale, you turned to leave, but something caught on your sleeve – Yuuji’s hand, when you could bring yourself to check.

“Stay,” he mumbled, his voice dampened by the sheets his face was buried in. “Please?”

You felt your throat go dry. “I can’t.”

You expected him to go shrill and whiny, but he proved to be a touch more mature than the ten-year-old you used to babysit. Rather flatly, he asked, “Why not?”

How were you supposed to answer that? Would it be good enough to say that you didn’t want to, that you couldn’t spend your night looking after a drunk kid you’d known a decade ago, that you’d already done more than you should’ve just by giving him a ride? Was it worth trying to talk to him at all when he could barely hold his head up? Would it do anything to soften the burn of the bile rising into your throat to point out that, the last time you’d been in the same room as him, he’d tried to—

No, it wasn’t and it wouldn’t and you had to leave. With your heart racing in your chest, you tried to jerk yourself out of his hold, but his vice-grip only grew tighter, his head rising up from the mattress just enough to let him stare at you with those big, bleary eyes. “Why not?”

“Yuuji, this isn’t—”

He was so, so much stronger than he had been, the last time you’d seen each other. One second, you were on your feet, at his bedside, and the next, you were on the floor of his bedroom, forced onto your hands and knees while Yuuji’s body pressed into yours from above. “I love you,” he said, his voice as steady as it’d ever been. “I love you, and I—Fuck—” He panted against the back of your neck, something uncomfortably stiff grinding against your ass. “It makes me so fucking hard when you say my name like that.”

A hand slipped under the hem of your top, his palm pressing into the small of your back. You moved to speak, then thought better of it, biting into your bottom lip as your anxious squirming turned to full-blown struggling. Yuuji only laughed, the noise airy and affectionate, winding an arm around your waist and pulling you that much closer to him – making it that much more impossible to get away. His free hand worked clumsily at your top; drawing it up and over your head. You fought against it at first, but froze the first time you felt something stretch a little too far, heard fabric tear. This couldn’t happen, but you absolutely couldn’t be stranded in Yuuji’s apartment with no clothes and no way out.

With his face buried in the back of your shoulder, he cupped your chest, catching your nipples between his forefinger and thumb and pinching with just enough force to draw a low, strained whimper from the back of your throat. “So cute…” He nuzzled deeper into your neck as his touch drifted. Your skirt was drawn downward – a long piece, something you’d thrown on without much thought – then discarded completely, his own shirt wrestled off in the same motion. You felt his fingertips slip under the hem of your panties, but he pulled away and straightened his back, instead. For a second, you let yourself believe that he’d come to his senses, that whatever sick idea he’d gotten into his head had finally worn off, but the arm wrapped around your waist only drew tighter, hauling you off of the floor and into his arms. You were dropped unceremoniously onto the edge of his bed, and Yuuji sunk onto his knees between your open legs.

“I know you’ve probably slept with other people – aside from my brother, I mean. It’d be nice to find out you haven’t, though.” His tone was distant and dreamy. He was still drunk, but not drunk enough for how he’d been acting earlier. Not drunk enough for what he was doing now. He traced the pad of his thumb over your clothed slit, keeping a hand curled around your ankle to keep you in place. “I used to hear you with Sukuna – in his car, and his room, on the couch after you two thought I’d fallen asleep …” He trailed off into an airy laugh. “He likes to show off – always has. If he wasn’t my brother, I think I’d kill him.”

He sighed, pressing a lingering kiss into the inside of your thigh before shifting his attention to your pussy; his tongue laving over the thin material covering your cunt. You were crying, now, openly and audibly – your choked sobs almost loud enough to block out Yuuji’s quiet groans and pleased grunts. However his obsession might’ve made him think he felt about you, your distress didn’t seem to affect his appetite. Your panties were pulled down your legs and slid into some unseen pocket. With the last barrier between you and him gone, he was free to trace his tongue over your slit, to latch onto your clit and suck in a way that made you want to bury your face in your hands and scream. You tried to – crossing your arms over your face, but any sound you tried to make was quickly strangled into a broken moans as his tongue fucked shallowly into your pussy. It was invasive, disgusting, but your body didn’t care. You felt cunt clench around him as his nose ground into your clit, his need for air irrelevant while he spread you open with his tongue. Your thighs clenched shut, attempting to block him out, but his only response was a reverberating groan – and hand on your thigh encouraging you to squeeze him that much tighter.

You couldn’t tell which you hated more; the unwanted stimulation or the fact that your body was reacting to it, heating up where you needed it to go cold. As he sunk further into you, ate you out like a beast starved, you clenched your eyes and willed yourself to go numb, to ignore the sloppy sound of your slick on Yuuji’s lips. It was useless, though, as futile as trying to ignore him in the first place. Your back arched off the bed, legs twitching where they hung limply over his shoulders, and—

—and Yuuji pulled away with a sharp gasp. He was on top of you before you could process that he was moving, his mouth crashing into yours before you could think to avoid him. The kiss was brutal, rushed; all teeth and tongue and lips shoved against yours with enough force to bruise. The only hint of tenderness was the soft, satisfied noise he let out as his tongue raked across yours, the bright grin painted across his lips when he drew back from you. “It’s alright.” He brought a hand to your cheek, cupping your face and brushing away tears with his thumb. “I’ve slept with other people too, ‘cause I knew I’d need a little practice to catch up with you. Could never go all the way, though. I just thought about you, and…” He blushed, simpered, like he thought he could pass himself off as the shy, lip-biting schoolboy with your slick coating his chin. “I guess I just didn’t really want anyone else to touch me. Not when I knew I’d see you again.”

A horrified sob bubbled up from somewhere deep and primal in your chest. Yuuji didn’t seem to hear it, only sighing as he pressed a lingering kiss into your forehead. “You don’t have to do anything,” he muttered, his hands falling to your waist. “I want to take care of you, tonight.”

You watched in stunned, paralyzed horror as he pushed himself to his feet, as he hastily worked off his jeans, his boxers (the dark material already notably stained with proof of his arousal). You made one more feeble attempt to squirm out from underneath him, to get away before his attention turned back to you, but confused and betrayed and so, so exhausted, you didn’t stand much of a chance against Yuuji. All he had to do was glance your way, his expression as warm as it was soulless, to leave you helpless against him.

He was eager enough not to reposition you, not to draw this out with the pretense of romance. With one hand on your hip and the other planted near your head, he lined the head of his cock up with your entrance and forced himself into you, bottoming out in a single thrust.

It was agony – pure and unrelenting. Any semblance of gentleness, of restraint fell away as soon as Yuuji was inside of you, as soon as your hyper-sensitive cunt clamped down around his cock. He cursed under his breath before collapsing, his chest pressing into yours as he tried to bury himself that much deeper inside of you, to chase the feeling of your pussy milking him for all he was worth. As hard as you tried not to think about Sukuna, Yuuji hadn’t been lying when he said they were alike. He was just as insatiable as his brother had been any time you let him but his hands on you; just as rough in the way his hips ground into yours between sporadic thrusts. There’d been bruises, the next day. At least Sukuna had been the type to make sure he was gone by the time the damage set in. You doubted Yuuji would be so kind.

“I—I’m sorry,” he managed as he buckled into you. Panting against the dip of your shoulder, he took your hips in his hands and dragged your ass of the mattress, his brutal pace stuttering as he found a new angle to abuse. “Next time—I’ll be gentle next time, I just need to—”

His cock hit something soft and sensitive inside of you. Reflexively, your hands shot to his back, your nails finding skin and tearing. The moan Yuuji let out in response was nothing short of sinful; hitched and guttural, ragged and loud enough to block out the wet, slick sound of his cock pumping into your cunt. “M—” His hand wraps around your thigh, catching you under the knee and dragging it towards your chest, letting him fuck into you that much deeper, that much faster. His face never left the crook of your neck, as if he was afraid to give you space to breathe. “Mommy, ‘m sorry, I need to—”

His teeth sunk into your throat as something hot and thick flooded into your cunt, as your body went stiff and your vision burned white. While his climax was sudden, intense, the peak to a decade’s worth of patience, yours had to be dragged out of you despite your attempts to hold it back, to deny yourself pleasure in the vain hope that it’d somehow be able to convince Yuuji to stop what he’d already finished. It seemed to hold you there in that state of dark, distorted euphoria for minutes – Yuuji’s movements turning slow and languid as he nursed you through your orgasm.

Eventually, mercifully, he went still, going limp above you with his canines still planted in the curve of your neck. If there was any pain, any other unwanted burdens he could force onto you, you were too lost in your own despair to notice, too distant to feel anything other than the mildest tinge of dread as he pulled back, raising his head just far enough to stare down at you, adoration heavy in his eyes and his grin wide and love-struck.

A small, naïve part of you found the sight suffocatingly familiar, while the rest could almost convince itself that you were looking at a stranger.

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