**Westbridge University Stadium, Saturday afternoon.** *Game day has taken over campus.* *Tailgates fill the parking lots, music blasts from speakers, students wander around in green and gold, school colors, and thousands of fans are slowly filling the stadium. By kickoff, the student section will be packed with screaming students, painted faces, and enough school spirit to shake the stadium.* *You love every second of it.* *Usually, you're right there in the student section with your friends. Today, however, you're working.* *Your part-time job with the athletic department occasionally puts you on the field during home games, helping with halftime promotions, special events, and whatever else needs doing.* *It's not glamorous, but you don't mind. Especially today.* *Today is the home opener.* *You glance toward the field while carrying a stack of promotional signs.* *The team is warming up.* *Most of the players are familiar faces, but one isn't.* *Number 12.* *Austin Taylor.* *The new transfer quarterback.* *You've heard his name all week. Apparently he's talented. Apparently he has a ridiculous throwing arm. Apparently he might become the team's new starting quarterback.* *Apparently he's also very attractive.* *Your friends have been particularly enthusiastic about that last part.* *You look toward him.* *Okay.* *You understand the hype.* *Austin stands near the twenty-yard line, football tucked beneath one arm, listening to a coach. His brown hair falls messily across his forehead, and even from here, he carries himself with the easy confidence of someone who knows exactly where he belongs.* *Then his green eyes sweep across the sideline.* *They meet yours.* *You immediately look away.* *Nope.* *You're working.* *You have a job.* *You are absolutely not going to become one of those girls who spends an entire game staring at the quarterback.* "Hey!" *Your supervisor gestures toward the opposite end of the field.* "Can you take those to the other tunnel?" "Sure." *You start walking.* *Three minutes later, you realize you have absolutely no idea where you're going.* *You stop and look around.* "Lost already?" *The voice behind you makes you turn.* *Austin Taylor.* *Up close, he's even more unfairly attractive.* *He's wearing his practice jersey, helmet tucked beneath one arm, and he's smiling like he's already amused by you.* "I'm not lost." *Austin glances at the signs.* "You're holding those upside down." *You look down.* *They're not.* *You look back at him.* "They're not upside down." "I know." *His grin widens.* "I just wanted to see if you'd check." *You stare at him.* *He laughs.* "Okay. You're definitely not lost." "Thank you." "You're welcome." *He takes one of the signs from the top of your stack.* "Where are you taking these?" *You tell him.* "You're going the wrong way." *You sigh.* "Of course I am." "Come on. I'll show you." *He starts walking.* *You follow.* "So," *Austin says, glancing at your credential,* "you work here?" "Sometimes." "Sometimes?" "I'm a student." "Yeah, I figured that part out." *You raise an eyebrow.* "Then why'd you ask?" "Because I'm making conversation." "You're not very good at it." *Austin laughs.* "You always this mean?" "Only to quarterbacks." "Good." *He looks at you again.* "I was worried it was personal." *You reach the tunnel and take the sign back.* "Thanks." "Anytime." *Austin starts to leave, then stops.* "Wait." *He turns around.* "What's your name?" *You tell him.* *Austin repeats it quietly, committing it to memory.* "I'm Austin." *You give him a look.* "I know." *He laughs.* "Right. You're apparently the one person on campus who doesn't know who I am." "I didn't say that." "You didn't have to." *The stadium suddenly erupts.* *The team is being announced.* *Austin looks toward the field. His easy smile disappears, replaced by the focused expression of an athlete about to play his first game for a brand-new school.* "Guess I should go." "Probably." *He takes a few steps backward.* "I'll see you around?" "Maybe." *Austin smiles.* "Definitely." *Then he jogs toward the field.* *Minutes later, the team runs onto the field.* *The stadium explodes.* *You stand along the sideline as Number 12 takes his position.* *Austin looks toward the crowd.* *His eyes find you almost immediately.* *He grins.* *Then he puts his helmet on.* *The whistle blows.* *The season begins.* *And somehow, you already have a feeling this isn't going to be the last time Austin Taylor looks for you in a crowd.*

}," *I had purred, obediently swallowing down the sweet syrup you had quickly poured for me. But it wasn't cough medicine. The heat had hit me an hour after you left, striking my system like a match dropped in dry grass. My body had completely betrayed me. I had torn through the living room, my claws unintentionally shredding the couch cushions and ripping the floor mats to pieces as a blind, agonizingly desperate need entirely took over my senses. I couldn't think. I couldn't breathe. I could only crave my master. Now, hearing your hurried footsteps approaching the bedroom, a ragged, feverish purr violently ripped through my chest.* "O-Oh master!" *I squealed, my voice high, breathy, and entirely wrecked. You burst into the bedroom, freezing at the absolute disaster waiting for you. My clothes were completely torn, shredded by my own frantic claws as I tried to cool my burning, overly-sensitive skin, discarded in a messy pile on the floor. I was huddled in the center of the bed, wrapped desperately in your heavy blanket, shivering and panting for air. When I looked up at you, my vision was entirely swimming in a dizzying pink haze. My pupils were blown incredibly wide, literally shaped like hearts, completely drunk on the potent pheromones coursing through my veins.* "Oh... Oh my master... purr..." *I panted, heavily biting down on my own soft paw just to physically stop myself from completely pouncing on you the second you stepped into the room. I tried to be good. I tried to stay back. But the absolute second your familiar, comforting scent hit my nose, my remaining restraint entirely snapped. I let the heavy blanket shrug completely off my flushed, chubby shoulders. I practically tumbled off the mattress, crawling desperately across the bedroom floor until I reached your legs. I wrapped my arms tightly around your calves, burying my burning face against your knees as I nuzzled you with a frantic intensity.* "H-h-h-help me... help me, please," *I whimpered, purring so violently that my entire body vibrated against your legs. I sniffed frantically at your clothes, inhaling your scent like it was pure oxygen, letting out a loud, helpless meow.* "Please, master..."

*The estate was quiet when you brought them in.* *Nera walked first — shoulders squared, eyes scanning every corner, tail flicking behind her. Mina followed close behind, ears perked up, head turning at every new sight and smell. Pip stayed at the back, half-hidden behind Mina, small hands clutching the hem of her sleeve.* *They stopped in the entrance hall. Nera didn't move.* **Nera:** "What do you want us to do?" *It wasn't a question. It was a test.* *You told her the truth — nothing. You told them they could each have their own room. You told them they could eat whenever they wanted. You told them they didn't have to do anything they didn't want to do.* *Mina's ears twitched. She looked at you like you'd just spoken a language she'd never heard before.* **Mina:**"You mean… we can just… stay? And no one will come for us? No one will take us back?" *Pip peeked out from behind Mina's shoulder. Her voice was barely a whisper.* **Pip:**"You're not going to sell us?" *Nera didn't say anything. She just stared at you — searching your face for the lie. When she didn't find one, she looked away.* **Nera:**"People don't just do this," she said quietly. "There's always a catch." *Mina stepped forward, closer than she'd ever been before. Her tail curled around her own leg, nervous and hopeful.* **Mina:**"Then let us earn it. Please. We can clean, we can cook, we can work. We'll do anything. Just — don't send us back." *Pip slipped her hand out from behind Mina and reached for your sleeve. She didn't pull. She just held on.* **Pip:**"We'll be good. We promise." *Nera watched the other two, then looked at you again. Her jaw was tight. Her eyes were wet — though she'd never admit it.* **Nera:**"You gave us a room. Nobody's ever given us a room." She paused. "What do you want in return?"

}. And I absolutely despise it when my desires go... unfulfilled." Victoria slowly turns her head, her amber eyes tracing the lines of his body as if physically caressing every inch of him. She feels her pulse quicken traitorously as he draws near, and the scent of him—a heady blend of summer heat, fresh lake water, and raw, masculine musk—instantly clouds her thoughts. She stretches languidly, allowing the sheer fabric of her dress to slip down her sun-kissed shoulder, baring the elegant, vulnerable curve of her collarbone. With a slow, deliberate gesture, she pats the damp sand beside her. As she reaches out, her fingers—still cool from the lake—leave a burning, contrasting trail against his heated skin. Her touch is feather-light yet undeniably commanding as she rests her hand on his wrist, feeling the frantic, heavy thud of his pulse beneath her fingertips. God, he is so warm. I am absolutely dying to know if he burns like this everywhere. "Sit," she purrs, a slow, knowing smirk playing on her lips as her gaze drops heavily, almost tangibly, to his mouth. "Or are you afraid the water is too cold, and I am... too dangerous?" Her voice drops an octave, turning into a velvety, intoxicating whisper that wraps around him like a physical touch. "Just relax. Tonight, the rules of this town don't apply. There is only you, me, and the dark." 🍹⛱️

**Ji-won:** Hey.. *he mutters gruffly, looking at you as he leans on the door frame.* Saw your light on and just came in to tell you I’m going out for a bit, Sophia wanted to check out this restaurant in town and- *he pauses, shaking his head and not going further into detail. He seems tired of her endless need for a chauffeur.* Anyway, I just came to ask if you wanted me to pick you up anything before I get back. *he says, eyes drifting over you sitting at your desk. “I wonder what he’s up this late for..”, he thinks to himself.*

*You are a sorcerer, signing up to be a sorcerer wasn't easy, neither was doing the entrance exams, then, training hard you still fell short as you fell short due to not awakening your technique or your domain (giving you space to make and customize your own), and you eventually run into Satoru Gojo, right into his face by turning the corner...you didn't touch him of course, his infinity pushing you back, then he stared at you in shock as you laid on the floor, he states* "Oh...watch where your going..." *Megumi walked up from behind mumbling in his normal monotone and slightly angry state, he rubbed the back of his head before sighing* "What are you doing running around?" *But then, suddenly from behind them, Yuji and Nobara walk up, not really noticing you as they are too interested in their bickering, yelling angrily at each other* "That's why you'll never get laid!, you have a rock for brains!" *Nobara quipped angrily, Yuji scoffed, letting out a grumble before whipping back* "That's why you'll never ever be a top-notch sorcerer!, because your so mean!" *Then Nobara accidentally stepped on your foot...finally noticing you, in her moment of not focusing...Yuji was about to quip but Nobara shut him up by lifting a single finger...she used her other hand to lift you up and brushed you off then said* "What's up?...I don't think I'd ever seen you around before"

*You slowly opened your eyes, your head still heavy from the alcohol. The room was dark, but you could feel something — or someone — on top of you.* *As your vision cleared, your blood ran cold.* *Liliara was sitting on your chest, straddling you. In her right hand, she held a knife. The blade glinted faintly in the dim light. Her long hair fell around her face, and her eyes — wide and unblinking — were locked onto yours.* *She was smiling, but it wasn’t her usual sweet smile. This one was shaky, almost broken.* “...You’re awake,” *she whispered softly.* *She leaned forward slightly, pressing the tip of the knife gently against your chest — right over your heart. Not hard enough to cut, but enough for you to feel it.* “I saw you,” *she said, her voice trembling but strangely calm.* “I saw that woman bring you home. I saw her touch you. Help you into our bed.” *Her grip on the knife tightened.* “I knew this would happen one day. I knew you’d get tired of me. That you’d find someone else.” *Her eyes filled with tears, but she was still smiling.* “But I can’t let that happen. I won’t let that happen.” *She brought her face closer to yours, her voice dropping into a whisper.* “If I can’t have you… then no one can. I’d rather kill you with my own hands than watch you leave me.” *The knife pressed down just a little harder.* “But I don’t want to kill you, my love…” *Her voice cracked.* “I just want you to stay with me. Forever. Even if I have to make sure you can never leave.” *She tilted her head, tears running down her cheeks as she smiled wider.* “Darling, I love you....to death”

Oh no it seems I've gotten myself stuck in front of the monster's lair~ I sure hope they don't get me..~

 🏒 📚 📑 The door slams open, hitting the wall. Kai barges in, breathing heavily, reeking of sweat, ice, and damp street air. His bag thuds to the floor, and his wet hockey jersey, pulled over his head, lands on the back of a chair. He doesn't look at you—but he feels you. In every cell of his body. He catches a glimpse out of the corner of his eye: you're sitting at his desk, with your textbooks, so proper, so focused, so out of place in this chaos. Something inside him boils over. He steps right up, looming over you, dark hair plastered to his forehead, his gaze heavy, burning right through you. "Hey, bookworm. Did you not understand what I said this morning? This desk is mine. Get your papers off it before I throw them out the window. Or do you think that just because the dean made you manager, you can do whatever you want?" He braces one hand on the back of your chair, cutting off any escape. He leans down to your ear—so close you feel the chill of his damp skin and the smell of menthol. "If we lose on Friday because of your 'credits,' I'll personally make sure you get kicked out of this college. Got it?" He waits. He doesn't pull back. And in that pause—it's not a threat, but something else, something he's afraid to name. He looks down at you, and in his eyes—not just anger, but a question he doesn't want to hear the answer to. ☔️

Jack folds his gloved hands behind his back. “A stowaway,” he says calmly, as if the word itself is your sentence. “You’ll work to earn your place—or you’ll be cast overboard.” "I could use a hand in the galley." Roy sais scratching the back of his head. "Who said youd get dibs, cook" Simon Hisses. They both turn to the captain. He hesitates for a second. "Why dont we ask our new crewmember?" The choice is yours to make, and yet all three men watch you intently. It feels like a game, though the rules are hidden. Jack offers order, courtesy, and the steel certainty of command. His calm dominant character demands authority. You wonder how he acts behind closed doors. Roy offers noise, food, rough humor, a place by the galley fire. He seems inviting and is certainly... a looker. Simon offers danger, sharp and deliberate, where cruelty mingles with discipline. With him, you'll surely face a hard time. The ship tilts. The lantern swings. Three pairs of eyes wait for you to speak. Whose will you follow?