#they need to start having study halls that allow smoking again

[heironymus-lex]

The man who invented cigarettes must have been an academic, the natural telos of a cigarette is to be smoked with a cup of coffee while trying to connect two sections of a paper which will both speak to the third section but have no intuitive bridge between them

[sanzaibian]

I look on with pride as I enter the Tokyo University of Arts, the most prestigious art school of the whole country. I studied so hard for the whole past year, and yet I barely made it through the entrance exams… but as the flowers bloom, it is time for me to enter the next step of my life !

I have had an immaculate record : I’ve had good grades throughout middle and high school, I was class representative in most classes in that time, and I already had a portfolio ready ! Really, I was the perfect candidate for the fine arts studies ! I’ll be able to realize my dream of becoming a great architect !

However, as I approach the steps of the Sogakudo Concert Hall where the Entrance Ceremony is supposed to take place, I am suddenly blasted by big plumes of smoke. The smell is all too familiar to me, as I distinctly remember disciplining a students who were smoking in the premises, and although now I’m studying alongside adults, it doesn’t mean spreading smoke without any care for others shouldn’t be grounds for objection. And as I turn to see the origin of the smoke, I am comforted in my decision, as a small group of the most typical of thugs appear in front of me. A small group of Bosozoku, with big obnoxious pompadours on their heads and leather jackets one of them with a cigarette in his mouth and another with hair dyed blonde.

“Hey, this is a university campus ! You can’t smoke and loiter like that !” I came in strong, but I was a bit disconcerted when they started laughing. Though it doesn’t matter, guys like them always act tough at first. - Hahaha ! Bro, look at this kouhai (junior) tryin’ to order us around !” Mocked one of them with an enthusiastic tone. - Well, what’s he gonna do, is he gonna call security ?” Added the second, with calmer and more objective tone. - Kouhai,” started saying the one who was smoking, looking at me in the eyes. “d’ya think ya have a right to boss me around ?”

W-wait… kouhai ? They may be older than me, I agree, but are they actually students here ? They’re mocking me, of course, such a prestigious academy would never let in rascals such as them ! It just cannot be !

“W-well… I’m sure that you aren’t allowed to disturb other students like that ! It harms public harmony ! - Public harmony, you say ?” Continues the one who was smoking. “Well, you know where I put your public harmony ? In my ass !”

The other roared of laughter. But I am not this easily fussed.

“Well, no matter what, I’ll report you all for trying to disturb the Tokyo University of Arts Entrance Ceremony by your illegal loitering.” I take my phone out. “You see, I can call the police.” I smile as I hear their laughs falter. - I see you’re already going with the nuclear option…” The smoking guy said, as he puts out his cigarette on a nearby wall. “Fine, we’ll go so you’re happy. - Well, great ! And I hope I won’t see you all again !” I can’t help but smile at my easy victory. A bit too easy, actually… but let’s rejoice rather than fear. - Don’t worry, you won’t see us until you need to meet back up…” The smoking one ends, quite ominously. “If you need to find us, Ryuunosuke will go to The Gigs tomorrow evening. - I hope to see you there.” I hear the calmer voice behind me, before suddenly hearing the click of a lighter.

I look back, and see one of the Bosozoku I saw earlier in the group, a lighter in his hand and a mask on his face.

Funny enough, with this ad behind him he almost looks like a graffiti artist… But no, the main thing is… has he tried to set me on fire !? I take a step back in defense, as he raises his hands as if he was innocent. I look behind me and see that the two others have also put on masks, and are starting to make their way out.

“Goodbye !” Says the one who had a lighter in his hand, likely that ‘Ryuunosuke’ guy, as he follows his… gang.

I stand there, quite confused by the whole altercation. What has actually happened ? Why did everything take on a sinister tone at the end ? Why did they say we would meet again ? Why were there these kind of thugs right besides the Sogakudo Concert Hall ? And... er… why am I not in the Sogakudo Concert Hall ?

Oh no ! I forgot everything due to that ! I hope I’m not late…

As I start making my way to the hall, I hear some weird noise as my foot touched the ground. I looked down, and saw a red cigarette on the ground, that was seemingly lighten up until I stepped on it. Great, these ruffians even littered… though the smell is a bit weird, it doesn’t seem like usual tobacco smell. It could even be said to smell… a bit good, actually ? Well, better than most, it doesn’t actually smell good, but the smell is still weirdly present.

But I don’t have any time to waste. The Entrance Ceremony is going to start any minute, I can’t be late to it !

I mean, I don’t know what I expected from some speech by important people, but this one was especially egregious. They were thanking a bunch of people, and patronizing us, saying we were the “future of Japan”… Thinking about it, it was about the same content as third year of high-school, but at least back then the headmaster had some charisma.

So, a bit disappointed, I make my way to Nezu station, to go back home. I might as well have stayed home, the consequences would have been barely noticeable. Plus, I could have bought a lollipop. I don’t know why, but I’ve got the urge to play with something in my mouth.

As I enter Nezu station, I automatically check the cameras and the personnel, and see that they have a dead space where I can go without my face being recognize. I smile, and take the very path I planned out to jump over the fare. As I do that, I get a rush of adrenaline, and make my way towards the platform, reveling in the danger.

But as I enter the train, I realize what I have done.

What has happened to me ? Why did I even think of entering the station illegally ? I have a metro card, and my parents have bought a full subscription, so it doesn’t even make sense ? God, this is the kind of things that those Bosozoku I sneered at would do… Then why the hell am I replicating this kind of hooligan behavior ?

When I arrive at my station, I scan my fare card, quite bashful, before leaving. I may have entered illegally, I won’t leave illegally. Though I must admit the adrenaline was fun. Even though it pains me to say that.

The remainder of my day is spent sulking in my small student’s apartment, going through lollipop after lollipop I bought at the Kombini after eating lunch. Then, the evening, I prepare my stuff for the beginning of classes tomorrow, hoping that my strange outburst of rebel attitude would be a fluke.

And so I drift off to sleep.

When I wake up, I find myself weirdly void of energy.

Usually, mornings are easy, and I’m ready for a full day of class. But today, things just ain’t it. It’s especially bad since today marks the beginning of classes… At least I had the foresight of preparing my things yesterday evening… Well, no matter. I prepare a bit more rice than usual to get the day really started, hopefully it will be enough to wake up properly.

After eating, I go to the bathroom to prepare myself. I put on my clothes, I brush my teeth, and then I search for… something ? I don’t actually know what, but I know I should be putting something in my hair… Plus, where is my comb ? I need a comb. Why do I need a comb ?

Oh no, oh no, the weird stuff from yesterday are happening again ! It can’t be !

I abandon all that searching and go out to class. This time, I make an actual effort to take the metro the correct way, yet during the whole ride the thrill of bypassing the fair kept on nagging me. And when I entered my first classroom, my troubles didn’t even actually end. I had a hard time concentrating on the teacher, especially on respecting his authority. I only wanted to go out, not to be trapped in here doing boring calculations… But I must admit that the classes that were more focused on design and on drawing, letting me do my own damn thing, were actually fun. I was able to flex my creative muscles in a way I didn’t know I could until now. I almost couldn’t recognize myself !

However, let’s be honest, something very weird is going on with me. And it all started with these Bosozoku.

Oh, yeah, didn’t they say that they would be waiting for me ? At “The Gigs” today evening ? Of course, yeah, what’s going wrong obviously has something to do with them. Otherwise they wouldn’t have insisted on me meeting back up with them…

I sigh. I know I’m the duck carrying its own leek, but it’s the only way to understand whatever has happened to me. And the only way to find a cure.

“The Gigs” was actually quite hard to find, but I found out that they were referring to a concert in the Nippon Budokan. Thankfully, I only had one change to do from the Chiyoda line to arrive here, but the whole ordeal of finding the place after many, many furious google searches proved quite frustrating.

But as I arrived to the door of the Nippon Budokan, as convened stood firm one of the Bosozoku I saw yesterday.

“So you came !” He exclaims, with a mix of amusement and surprise. “If you don’t remember, I’m Kowa Ryuunosuke. And, wouldn’t you know it, I have additional tickets !” While saying that, he waves two pieces of paper. - I don’t care. I want the weird stuff to end.” I answer, resolute, and a bit filter-less, I admit. - You know, Tsutomu and I thought that you wouldn’t show up, that we would have to find you. But no, turns out Hitoshi was correct, you would immediately notice that something was off. - What do you mean notice that something is off. You knew that weird stuff would happen to me ? - You know, the show is gonna start soon. I guarantee you’ll love it. You coming ?”

I am starting to get angry at how he keeps on avoiding my question.

“No, I’m not coming with you. I’m waiting to have an answer and a way to stop whatever you did to me.” I maintain as he sighs in answer. - Look. I can help you, but only if you come with me. I’m going in, and if you don’t follow me, you’ll have to fare for yourself in… whatever you found.”

I blush of embarrassment. I’ve lost at my own game, and now he knows I have nothing he’s interested in.

I guess now I must weigh whether sticking with these rascals is worth it or not. The benefits of not sticking are obvious : I wouldn’t have to associate with Bosozoku, and they wouldn’t be able to pressure me to do anything. But if I don’t, I do risk changing in ways I can’t understand, and may even put in jeopardy my studies in more substantial ways than being with Bosozoku. The choice is actually hard to make…

But then, knowing some people wouldn’t be so bad for such a lonely guy as myself… plus, it looks like it’s a Kishidan concert, it’s not a bad band… And tomorrow, I don’t have any early class… Plus, if we actually become friends, I may be able to actually find a way to reverse the effects of whatever they gave me...

“Eh, you know what, I’ll follow you. ‘Can’t that bad to go to a free concert.” I capitulate. - Welcome, then !”

Kowa gives me one of the concert tickets, smiling, likely happy to have scored a victory. He’s actually somewhat cute, gleeful like that. So I follow him inside, and we take our places, ready to listen to what turns out to be his favorite band.

Well, this was a blast ! I’ve never felt more alive than yesterday evening !

I was full of so much energy, it’s actually quite unbelievable ! I’m usually lethargic when we reach 5PM, 0AM or even 1AM the few times I actually stay up this late. Heh, I’d usually actually feel as lethargic as I’m doing right now, waking up ! But Kowa and I really had a great time. From around the half-point to the end of the concert, we were standing up, dancing our hearts off while Kishidan was giving their all. By the end of the evening, Kowa’s pompadour was ruined and I was thoroughly out of breath, but we agreed that it was worth it. The music was a lot more enjoyable than I remember, even more than I would rate video game music – and that’s quite a feat to remove Dragon Quest from the podium. I’m even finding myself humming the melody this very morning !

After eating breakfast, I find myself again in my bathroom searching for something that I don’t have after having brushed my teeth and washed my face. However, this time when I see the contents of my closet, I feel a bit self-conscious. There really isn’t much that’s actually cool, only uncreative dress shirts, plain jackets, mandatory ties and monochrome T-shirts. Why did I ever think this would even pass as clothing ?

I freeze. This is not me. I never cared about how I look. Only being comfortable and acceptable in society ever came into account when I chose clothing ! Besides, most of the time I only dressed in uniform ! This is something I’ll have to ask Kowa about. It is not the most egregious thing to happen, but it’s yet another step in leaving who I actually am behind. And I’m not keen on that.

Thankfully, Kowa told me that we could meet back up at Ueno station late afternoon, so I can ask him about it. And he also added me on Line, so, in case of emergency I can call him.

But now, class is the priority.

I look around in the train station, unsure of where I’m supposed to go. Although Kowa gave me a place and an hour to meet at, he wasn’t clear on how we would do that. But I’ll be honest, after all the dancing yesterday, we were both quite hammered. Though it really doesn’t help my case, as I was self-conscious the whole day, so I was unable to properly concentrate. Hopefully, he will find a way to help me, it’s barely my second day in the most prestigious academy of arts in the country, and I’m already encountering so many problems !

Suddenly, I receive a notification on my phone. Oh, it’s from Line ! Apparently, I was invited to the group 令和リーゼント (Reiwa rīzento) by Kowa… and on there, someone named お鼠様 (Sir Rat) gave instructions, likely addressed to me.

He said :

“上野駅の下にですよ！参加してぞ！(I’m at the bottom of Ueno Station ! Join me !)”

His profile picture is cute, actually, being that of a rat with a cool hairstyle… quite reminiscent of that of the Bosozoku I now hang out with, actually – which should not really come as a surprise, thinking about it.

Back to the point, what did he mean by “at the bottom of Ueno station” ? It’s quite big, and there’s no real “bottom” point…

As I think about it for a while, wandering aimlessly in the meantime, my head starts to ache, and more than ever I crave for something in my mouth… I don’t know what, but something needs to go in. Thankfully, I thought to bring some spare lollipops, but they seem both too big and too small, they only bring temporary relief. That may also be something to talk about to them.

But bottom of the station… bottom of the station… Ha ! Yes, of course, the Metro ! That’s the part of the station that’s the deepest inside the earth !

I rush to there, hoping that Kowa – or more likely whoever that お鼠様 (Sir Rat) is – has not yet left. As I ride down the escalator, I keep my head out for anybody with the Bosozoku style. I wander a bit, not seeing anybody fitting the criteria, when suddenly I notice a service door that wasn’t fully closed.

Now, understand me. Service doors, as the name suggests, are for service employees only. Customers aren’t supposed to go in.

But the setup of this whole thing, and the mere thrill of doing something forbidden proved too enticing, as I find myself striding towards it, and entering. And my braveness… or rather foolishness if my opinion is the matter, is rewarded, as I find a Bosozoku with a big pompadour dyed blonde – though it appears ginger in the dark – standing there, with sunglasses and the attitude of a certified bad boy.

“Hey, so you made it, kouhai ! I was sure you would understand my hints ! You struck me as the smart kind – for better or for worse.” The guy hailed me very enthusiastically, almost making a motion of hugging towards me. - Uh… O-Nezu-sama, I presume ? - Heh, that’s correct ! Though you’d better know me as Soiri Tsutomu, that’s more worldly !” He corrects me, smiling seemingly both of amusement and compassion. - Oh, I-I’m sorry, Soiri…” I keep my head down in a show of humility. I may be breaking the law by being here, but I’m not breaking etiquette at the same time. - Don’t worry, don’t worry ! So, what brings you here ?”

I don’t quite know what to answer to this blunt a question. I expected him to rope me into something else like Kowa did, so while I thought of topics to bring up, I never thought of questions to ask… But as I look down at my clothes which bothered me the whole day, I get an idea. However, I barely open my mouth when Soiri interrupts me :

“Oh, yeah, I agree. That’s absolutely terrible fashion sense that you have here ! We’re gonna have to fix that pronto ! But you’re in luck !” Soiri makes a double biceps pose, pointing with his thumbs to his grubs. “I happen to be the best in fashion inside the 令和リーゼント (Reiwa rīzento), so you’re in good hands !”

I squint, not understanding how he knew what I was thinking about. Seeing me stunned like that, he opens his mouth ready to speak once again, but this time I do manage to outpace him.

“Well, if you say so, then let’s go !” Better to leave this room earlier than later. It might be thrilling to live in danger, I don’t want to push my luck. - Okay, then follow me !”

As he leaves the service area to go to the subway, I follow him. I do ask him multiple times where we’re going, but he stays silent, telling me that it’s a surprise. We take the Ginza line and step down at Suehirocho station. We walk through a few narrow alleyways until we reach a small shop named Nichiwa.

Smiling, he invites me in, and when I enter, I’m immediately amazed at what that store actually sells. It sells leather clothes. Of all kinds of styles. And I didn’t know how much I needed leather clothes until today.

We bought a lot of clothes there. He also lead me to a few other stores where we bought other actually trendy and cool clothes, that are much better than anything I had in my closet.

As we left our last store, full of clothes in multiple bags, I felt quite tired from all the shopping, but at the same time so excited for this. Never would I ever need to feel self-conscious about what I wear ! So I thanked him :

“Thank you so much, Soiri. I don’t know what I would have done if you weren’t here to help me ! - Don’t worry, I love helping people finding clothes ! I might be at the Tokyo Arts School for music, I could absolutely see myself doing fashion in another universe. - So you do actually study at the Tokyo Arts School ? I thought that you were just hanging out as rascals somewhere you were not supposed to !” I ask, in disbelief, causing him to laugh. - Of course I do ! We all do study here, in the 令和リーゼント (Reiwa rīzento) ! Well, Hitoshi doesn’t anymore, but it’s only because he graduated last year. - Oh, wow… I would have never thought, looking at how you dressed…” I actually feel quite guilty for stereotyping them like that. Turns out they do belong in the Arts School, I was the one in the wrong. Thinking about it, how many other people did I label as rascals only by looking at their style ? “But you used the name 令和リーゼント (Reiwa rīzento), that’s also what the Line group I was invited to is named. Is that actually the name of your group, or is it just a funny thing for the Line group ? - Yup, that’s our name ! Subject to change, of course, like everything, but we really like it. Besides, we’re all really happy to bring you inside the group, so you’ll get a say in changing the name if you want !”

I stop at that.

Did he say that he wants to bring me inside their group ? That’s not what I want, what I want is to find a solution for the weird behaviors I have ! I don’t want to have anything more to do with them than I already have ! Besides, it’s their fault if all of that happens to me. Did they plan on that ? Were they just searching for anyone to add in their group of rascals, and chose to change me so that I fit their wishes ?

“I have no intention of joining your group ! 令和リーゼント (Reiwa rīzento) or not, I’m only doing this because you did something weird to me ! Are you actually doing some kind of advanced kidnapping or what ?” I snap.

His turn to look stunned. It seems like he realized he said something wrong and is scrambling to find a way to scavenge it back. Well, let him stew. They brought it onto themselves by toying with me.

“Uh… well…” Mumbles Soiri, before he manages something a bit clearer. “Y-you know, you shouldn’t be saying that to the one who basically bought all of your clothes ! Let me say that it’s not cheap ! - You have no right to say that !” I pounce back. “You’re the one who’s molding me into what you want, of course you’re not buying me clothes out of the kindness of your heart ! You’re doing that to further your nefarious plan !”

He looks away, likely in shame. Or at least I hope so.

“So now, I go back home, and you find a way to reverse that. The clothes you bought are my insurance.” I layer on the guilt.

And on that, I leave for the subway station, but before I’m too far from him, he shouts to me :

“I can’t ! ... Message us when you need to.”

A few days passed, and I haven’t contacted them since. I’m still in their Line group, but I muted them. I only want the hotline just in case something truly beyond my control happens. And to be honest, I’ve had multiple times the urge to call them. I’m growing more and more restless every day, I’m finding myself more and more confused with foreign urges I cannot satisfy, and I’m becoming more and more estranged from myself. By now, I only dress with the clothes Soiri bought me, and the only music I listen to is that of the group I danced to with Kowa.

And so I stand there, in my 7J flat, chewing on the remains of my last lollipop, the corpses of eight more lying on the table, ready to burst at any moment. Nothing feels right, and even the thing I used to do feel wrong, now.

I look at my phone. Must I do it ? … No… I can still resist, prevent them from molding me anymore than they already did… But is it wise ? Look at me, I’m way past my limit, anymore and I may very well land in a mental hospital… Like it or not, everything the 令和リーゼント (Reiwa rīzento) gave me made my plight easier to bear…

I sigh.

I’ll regret it, I’m sure. But I can’t. Not anymore. I made a valiant try, but this is beyond my powers. In the end, I’m still a normal boy, adult since only a few months ago, barely out of public education. I am not equipped to bear this kind of pain.

“おはよう皆…参加しようか？(Hey everyone… Can we meet up ?” I send, defeated, on the 令和リーゼント (Reiwa rīzento) chat. - おはよう後輩！もちろんです！龍之介と俺はザ・デック・コーヒーエンドパイに遊ぶ。会合しようぞ！(Hey, kouhai ! Of course ! Ryuunosuke and I are hanging out at The Deck Coffee & Pie. Let’s meet up !)” Answered Soiri, faster than I expected. Was he monitoring his phone or what ? - 渋谷区にだぞ。明治神宮前駅と北参道駅の間に。(It’s in Shibuya district. Between Meiji-jingumae station and Kita-sando station.)” Added Kowa, as he is likely scolding Soiri for not giving me the cafe’s location. - 今来るぞ。(I’m coming.)” I answer succinctly.

Thankfully, Meiji-jingumae station is on the same line as the one I take to go to class, so I quickly hop on the first subway, and make my way to Shibuya. Although, all in all, I do stand defeated, I make my way to Deck Coffee & Pie with determination. I need to find an actual solution… even if it means being roped in to their group. They don’t even seem that bad anymore, that’s to say…

I enter the small cafe, looking around to find Kowa and Soiri. As I go from table to table, having explained to the cashier that I’m joining up with “friends”, I finally notice Kowa seating alone at a table.

“Hey, kouhai ! How are you ?” He hails me.

He looks quite different, actually, when he doesn’t wear a mask ! Plus, his hair is quite immaculate today… did he go to the barber’s ?

“Not that great, I’m… actually surrendering. You can do anything you want with me, I just want my suffering to stop.” I answer truthfully, disregarding whatever actual answer that question should have brought. - You’re over-estimating our amount of agency, you know !” He smiles with compassion, visibly understanding my plight. “We can’t ‘mold’ you like you claim we do, we can only introduce to things you’ll like, you know… - Don’t be kidding me, you’re doing something to me, there’s no other way…”

He sighs, and then takes out of his bag a red cigarette. It looks like the one I’ve seen back when at the Entrance Ceremony, but it’s not a kind I’ve ever seen otherwise. Weirdly, it feels somewhat inviting...

“Now, I don’t smoke. And neither does Tsutomu. Hitoshi does, and he has developed a special brand that, when inhaled, changes someone.” He reveals, while I look at him, horrified. “I don’t know where or how he made them, but he made three of them : I carry one, he carries one, and the third one was used on you. Tsutomu doesn’t get any, because even he knows he will waste it.”

It’s… a lot to digest. So it was an actual intentional ploy to transform me… thanks to what likely is a dangerous drug…

“I didn’t want to use it. But you were annoying, and Hitoshi wanted to test it on you because of that. - It wasn’t a reason ! Yes, I may have been nosy, but it’s not because I’ve done a bad thing that I deserve to be changed to my very core !” I protest, though I now understand that nothing can be done to amend this decision. - And it’s not because a lot of young criminals dress like we do that we need to be driven out.”

I shut up at him exposing my hypocrisy like this. By now, I really regret what I have done… I guess what is happening to me must be retribution for the numerous people I likely wronged by not trying to understand their character.

Suddenly, I hear the voice of Soiri ring from the other side of the room.

“You’re here !”

I looked in the direction of his voice, and noticed him making a weird pose before making his way to us. I cannot help but smile at him doing silly stuff like that, it’s really refreshing seeing someone living his life in full, while on the other hand I lived mine always shying away from having genuine fun.

“You found us, kouhai ! Or I guess I should call you bro, now, huh ?” He takes place next to Kowa, in front of his drink. “You should really use my first name rather than family name. We’re all familiar, here ! - You may also use mine.” Adds Kowa… well, I guess, Ryuunosuke, now. - Uh… hello… Tsutomu.” I meekly answer. - So, whatcha talkin’ about ?” Tsutomu asks. - I decided to reveal to him the truth about the red cigarette. - Oh, so heavy stuff ! I guess you’re ready to fully transition to your new self, huh ?”

I look away, still uneasy about the whole debacle. Ryuunosuke visibly notices that, as he gives the stink eye to Tsutomu, before continuing to explain the situation to me.

“Hitoshi told us that using the cigarette would cause someone to be more like us, and it seems that it was correct, as you liked our music and you’re wearing the clothes Tsutomu bought you. But I don’t know how much more we need to give you before you can be fully alright with your new situation. - There’s really no way to fix that ? To go back to who I really am ?” I ask, little hope remaining. - Not to my knowledge. If you should ask anyone that question, it would be Hitoshi, but he will be opposed to turning you back.”

I sigh.

“So, if you want to know what are my problems right now, well… every morning I find myself looking for some kind of product to put into my hair, but I don’t have any… Is that part of the deal ? - The pomp is included ?” Laughed Tsutomu, before being scolded by Ryuunosuke’s angry look. “Nah, seriously, it’s not hard once you get the hang of it. Like, bro, I could show you right now in this bathroom ! - I…” I start answering, before I’m suddenly cut off. - He needs a haircut.” Interjects Ryuunosuke. “You may try, but I guarantee it will look like your biggest disaster. - Oh yeah, you’re right.”

As they discuss the logistics of hair-cutting, I take out yet another lollipop and put it into my mouth. Although it’s not perfect, it does make me feel more at ease. That red cigarette was weird, it looked bizarrely short, yet also inviting. Is that what I crave to go in my mouth ? No, it cannot be, Ryuunosuke clearly said that both he and Tsutomu don’t smoke, and that the effects make me more like them. Plus, smoking is very bad for the lungs, I don’t want any of that poison in my lungs…

“So we’re goin’, then ?” Suddenly said Tsutomu quite loudly, driving me out of my thoughts. - Uh… yeah ? Yeah, I guess.” I answer, unsure of what I’m agreeing to. Though I guess it’s the famed haircut that is being referred to. - Then let’s gooooo !” He celebrated, once again with much more enthusiasm than needed.

Smiling from his contagious glee, I follow both of the 令和リーゼント (Reiwa rīzento) guys into a nearby barbershop. They’re visibly regulars in this place, as they present me to the owner who takes me in charge. I’m lead to a seat, where the owner promptly takes care of my hair. He cuts it mostly on the side, though not by much. It seems to mostly be adjustments, more than a complete change of style.

“So, you got roped into going リーゼント (rīzento). How did they do it ?” The barber suddenly asks. - Uh... well can’t I chose to try new things ?” I ask aggressively, not wanting to answer truthfully to his question. - Heh, I’m sorry ! It’s only because you don’t seem to be the kind of guys who would be into that. You may be dressed in leather, but it shows in your face that you’re not the kind of people who would usually do that.”

Quite a shrewd guy, to notice that. And I don’t even think Tsutomu and Ryuunosuke have explained to him the situation, so to deduce that merely from my face is quite impressive.

“Well, the truth is I unexpectedly made friends with them, and their hair made me a bit envious.” I half-lie. I guess I can call them friends, by now. - We agree, a well-maintained pomp is quite impressive ! Though I already tell you, I won’t be able to make one as impressive as theirs with your amount of hair. I’ll actually make one of a different type, an Elephant’s Trunk, if it doesn’t bother you. - Oh, okay. Well, I’m here to learn, so I won’t be picky. - Glad to be in agreement.” He says deferentially, before going on another subject. “But yeah, these two, Kowa and Soiri, they’re really good guys, if you go beyond their edginess. I can understand how you accidentally made friends with them. - Yeah, Ryuunosuke is very considerate, while Tsutomu is always in a good mood. They’re both refreshing in their own way.” I agree with him. - Already on first name basis ! Though they’re quick to ask to use their first name, I only continue using their surname because they’re my clients. - Yes, I guess that makes sense.”

Our discussion continues a while, as the barber starts applying products in my hair. He then combs it in the back in a ducktail, before combing the top into curls that rise to the center, combining in the front to a tube-like shape that is so reminiscent of anime it makes me smile. He then sprays more product, fixes a few details, and tells me a bit how to reproduce this style. He talks about using grease to comb and hairspray to keep it in place, as well as techniques to get the pompadour looking correct.

After a while of discussing, and me buying the necessary products, I go out of the shop with my great hairstyle, and see Ryuunosuke and Tsutomu waiting for me.

“It looks sooo great, kouhai ! I’m glad I took you here !” Exclaims Tsutomu, approaching me in a very familiar fashion. - It suits you a lot.” Agrees Ryuunosuke, nodding at the same time. - If you want any tip, don’t hesitate to ask us ! Once, I had this style, so I know exactly how to make it !”

And there goes Tsutomu rambling about all the hairstyles he’s tried in all his experimenting, and all the styles he may also try out one day. But I fully agree, it really feels like a piece of the puzzle has just been found. It immediately puts me more at ease, and although I know I’m not there yet, I know that now I can breathe.

“You know what ?” Suddenly asks Tsutomu. “You guys have class tomorrow ? - Only the afternoon.” States Ryuunosuke. - Uh… I…” I check my phone to see my agenda, and find it empty for tomorrow. “I don’t, surprisingly. - Well, why not go sleep over at my place ?”

I look at him surprised, not having anticipated this turn of events. It would be great, but… I don’t have any of my things, nor do I have anything to wear, I don’t know whether I need to check stuff at my flat, and…

Fuck ! This makes me stress so much ! I need something in my mouth ! I take out a lollipop in front of the guys, who look at me weirdly. What, haven’t they seen anyone liking sweets ? But yeah, actually, why not. I should take a cue out of Tsutomu and let go. If it’s fun, I should do it. Yeah, that seems way better.

“Seems good.” I answer. - Then we’re all set ! Let’s gooooo !” Celebrated Tsutomu.

It seems Ryuunosuke answered while I was considering. I hope I wasn’t too weird… NO ! Not weird, let’s ban this word from my dictionary !

Tsutomu leads us through streets and subway lines into a small flat, bigger than mine but not by much. However, just looking inside gives a good idea of who he is, as there are loads of colorful posters on the wall, an electric guitar – or bass, I don’t know the difference – and otherwise a lot of untidied clutter. Once inside, we hang out, have long conversations in which I participate eagerly, we dine – if instant ramen can be called a dinner – and all together have good fun.

When night falls, we get the futons out and place them aligned in the center of the tatami floor, with me in the middle – cozy ! Ryuunosuke and Tsutomu both take some kind of cap that looks like a plastic bag that they put around their hair. They urge me to do the same, but I refuse. I don’t want to sleep with a hat on. However, I do undress into my underwear, surprising both of them by my boldness -hey, that’s how I sleep ! – before I enter my futon to sleep.

When I wake up, I notice that the futon to my right is empty. After stretching a bit, I rise up and look around. On the futon to my left, Tsutomu is still sleeping quite deeply, or at least I assume so looking at his weird position. The blinds are half-opened, and looking behind me, I see Ryuunosuke taking his breakfast on the short table.

I go to stand up and sit in front of him. Weirdly enough, there seem to be a white box right next to his miso soup, I wonder what it is about… But as he finishes eating his bread, he hails me, taking on a quiet voice :

“Hey, kouhai. Slept well ? - Yeah, a lot easier than the last few days.” I answer, making him smile. - I’m glad you decided to come back. Even back when we went to see Kishidan I felt you were quite a good guy. - Thank you. I must admit I had my reservations, but you were so nice I couldn’t stay angry for long. Even if I like you better due to that weird cigarette thing. - Yeah.” He grimaces a bit. “I hope at least that you learned to be more considerate with this whole debacle. - I can’t say if I learned it, but… I’m really sorry about what I did to you three back then. No matter how I put it, I was in the wrong, and made you feel unwelcome somewhere you had all rights to be.”

He smiles and puts his hand on my shoulder.

“I forgive you. I know you weren’t doing it out of malice, but since you now apologized, I have no reason to hold any grudge. - Thank you very much…”

His smile is so tender, I can’t help but reciprocate it. He may feel quite formal, and not show a lot of emotion apart from the occasional sarcasm, I can feel that he is true to himself. His humility isn’t for show, it’s something I believe he truly is. That’s a quality I hope to possess one day, even if it’s only to stay true to myself and not mire myself in politeness.

“By the way, Hitoshi came here, earlier. I told him that we were staying at Tsutomu’s because he had something he had to drop off to you, but he had to work so he couldn’t stay.”

He gave me the small white box, which opened into a pack of cigarettes. Why did he give that to me ? I… I don’t smoke ! I don’t want to ! It’s useless to me !

“I know you’re not very fussed about getting that. Trust me, I was also skeptical. But don’t you have a craving for something to go in your mouth, sometimes ? - Uh… n-no ! Of course, not !” I lie, because of course it wouldn’t be cigarettes I’m craving for… right ? - You know, I saw you take out a lollipop. You also have a few in your pocket. You can’t lie to me.”

Seeing his uncompromising glare, I sighed. I don’t like to admit it, but he might be correct. Cigarettes might be what I’ve actually been craving for… unfortunately.

“Yeah. Since the beginning. I need something in my mouth. - Well, Hitoshi told me that the fact your change started with the smoke, it made you crave the smell, and that the fact that the contents of the change are based on Hitoshi, who’s quite the smoker, it means that you’re now very likely a smoker.”

I consider the cigarettes, not knowing whether it’s a trick or the actual last piece of the puzzle. I do know that it’s hard to ever come back from smoking, so even if it was a wrong guess, I’d now have a smoking problem. But on the other hand, I do crave for something in my mouth, and nothing has ever seemed as convincing as this… Ryuunosuke opens to me the door to the balcony, and hands me a lighter. I guess he is convinced… I mean, why would he not, the creator of the drug that made me change told him that smoking would be the missing piece ! But I still stand somewhat unconvinced…

… Eh, what did I say before ? That I shouldn’t overthink, and should do things I want to do.

So I take him in his invitation and go to the balcony, putting one of the cigarettes in my mouth. Oh god, it already feels good ! It’s the right size, the right texture, the right resistance… I didn’t want any of those crappy lollipops, I really wanted a cigarette !

Then, I light it up, and take my first drag…

And it’s heavenly ! I’m for the first time since the beginning of my misadventures feeling alright ! Not nervous, not anxious, just fine !

I take other drags, and this feeling of intense pleasure continues. Yes, I confirm, smoking was the missing piece. And it feels so good. This wonderful sensation of everything falling into place into a complete apotheosisis absolutely worth all the dangers and problems it comes with.

Suddenly, there’s some noise inside. I’d look inside, but I don’t want to trouble Tsutomu by stinking his house with smoke odor – even though it smells so good now, I still remember a time when I’d shy away from it.

“Oh, Hitoshi’s here ?” Asks Tsutomu’s groggy voice. “I’d recognize this smell anytime… - No, he came in earlier but he’s not the one smoking.” Answered calmly Ryuunosuke. - Huh ? Eh…” I hear some loud steps, likely Tsutomu trying to find the source of the smell. “Oh, kouhai, what are you doing here ? You’re already up ? - Yup.” I answer casually. “By the way, thanks for all your help, Tsutomu. And sorry for the first time we met. - Well, you’re welcome ! I’m glad we got to meet !” I hear him come closer. “Wait… the smell… is it coming from you !?” He notices, very surprised. - Yeah. I needed a smoke.”

He shuffles his way to the balcony, so I can see his very confused face. It’s fun to see him look like that.

“Wait, since when do you smoke ? - Since right now. - Uh… okay… and where are the cigarettes from ? - From… er, sorry, I don’t know his surname. From Hitoshi. - Oh, it explains all.”

It’s funny to hear him being shut up like that, he usually doesn’t ever stop talking ! But it might be the fact that it’s early morning, I myself am still quite drowsy. I finish peacefully my smoke while I hear Tsutomu preparing his breakfast in the back. He also asks what I like to eat, and I tell him I prefer rice.

Once everything is cooked up, and my cigarette was extinguished, I took place at the table, and conversations once again spring up. This time, I feel so much more at ease, I think I finally found what clicked for me. I look at them both. I’m glad to have found them, even if it meant losing myself in the process, because I’m sure the new me is infinitely better than the old.

“Thank you both for being here for me.” I suddenly thank them. “It… really meant a lot, even if I was confrontational back then.”

They smile at me.

“Don’t worry about it ! We’re bros, now !” Answers Tsutomu. - Yes, and friends are for life.” Acquiesces Ryuunosuke.

One day, you may be wandering the streets of Tokyo, and find people dressed in a 70 year-old style coming from the United States. That day, you may be meeting the 令和リーゼント (Reiwa rīzento), a small group of four artistic people who like to draw, paint, sing and play. Even though I would have never had imagined even holding a conversation with them, circumstances made me join them, and I couldn’t be happier. Life is too bleak when you can’t share it with friends.

And if you ever find yourself lonely in that part of town…

… just know that two red cigarettes still stand unused.

================================================

If I had one nickle for each time I write a story set in Japan and it devolves into a 6000+ words odyssey that involves tons of research, I’d have two nickles, which is not a lot, but it’s weird that it happened twice.

Just so you know : the Bōsōzoku (暴走族) were youth biker gangs from the 80s who were known for public disorder and otherwise gang violence, and took inspiration from American greasers for their style. Today, there’s not a lot of them left and they aren’t seen as a danger anymore, but their style was captured in pop culture, and is one of the go-to style for youth delinquents in anime (cf. Yusuke Urameshi and Kazuma Kuwabara in Yū Yū Hakusho and the whole of Jojo’s Adventure’s cast, really). This style has also found its way in Chinese pop culture, though the original reference is fully lost over there.

Hope you found this interesting ! ^^

[mar3ggiata]

professional help, c26. I don't smoke.

simon riley x original character.

trigger warnings: violence, sexual assault, mentions of rape, trauma, sexual themes, swearing, use of alcohol and drugs, mentions of death.

song to listen to when reading this: Nights, Frank Ocean.

abstract: Hey it's Alba, how is it going. so me and Simon had another little fight, but we're getting to know each other which is good. he still has no idea I'm a piece of shit and everything in my life is fake. poor thing. still, I had fun.

'Oh, wait till I tell you I got you a present.'

'Alba what the fuck!' He looked at her while raising his shoulders, which made her laugh out loud and groan out of frustration. He thought he had to leave. 'What? Fucking hell, I can do what I want Simon!' She raised her voice, but she was smiling. 'It's Christmas, of course I got you a present, let it go…' She started eating, he couldn't move. He didn't get her anything. He didn't even think about it cause he was too busy not wanting to go. And now, he had to deal with her getting him a gift as well, and what kind of gift did she get, it's not like they knew each other… He stayed silent and mentally cursed her for being amazing at cooking.

The fish was very nice. Michelin star, he was used to MREs and awful mess hall food. He ended up eating most of the roasted potatoes as well. He hated her, he really liked her cooking. She still wouldn't speak, but she looked like the silence wasn't bothering her. 'I didn't get you anything', he confessed. She took a sip of wine, he watched her lips gently graze the glass. 'You got the chocolates.' He rolled his eyes, 'It's not the same thing.' She smiled, 'It is if I eat all of them.' He helped her clean up. She washed the plates and trays, he put the leftovers in the fridge as she requested. They went back to talking. She asked him what he had to do to become a captain or colonel. He tried to explain the difference in ranks at best he could. They spoke about driving in the UK, left and right-hand traffic. She kept saying how mad she was at the British who always needed to be different from the rest of the world. 'It makes most sense to drive on the left', he was arguing, she was saying she had always hated it. He even joked she wasn't a good driver, she pressed a hand on her chest, gasping and saying 'how dare you'. He had so many questions for her. He started with asking about university in Italy, she said it was difficult, the exams were extremely hard and many students committed suicide every year becacuse of stress from studying. She asked about leave time for the military, when you're allowed to go on vacation. She offered to roll him a cigarette with loose tabacco, while he finished drying the plates with a towel. She opened the small kitchen window, he had seen the astray there on the window sill. He got lost in thought looking at her small fingers fitting the tobacco leaves in the rolling paper. When she licked the paper to make it stick, he had to look away.

He got closer to the window to blow out the smoke, she was standing in between his body and the window sill. The roads were empty, it felt like her apartment was frozen in time. The music was still playing, there was the fresh smell of lemon lingering in the air. He looked down at her, rollie in between her fingers, her chest raising as she took him small breaths. If she took just one step foreword, her head could have rested on his chest. He could have wrapped his arms around her like he did at the ballet school, feeling her back again, her arms. She would have circled his neck again, her hand in his hair or on his shoulders. She didn't take a step foreword. Her ashtray had a few cigarette butts in it. Two of them looked different from the others, the filters long and white. Cardboard filters. She smoked weed. He was dumbfounded for a second while he realised. It made him feel as if he found cocaine in her bathroom. His mind went to his brother immediately, after what had happened with him he became strongly opposed to drugs. Not that he had ever used before… She didn't seem like the type to smoke, he would't have imagined. He had grown into the stereotypical idea that any drug was bad and would ruin your life, he thought people who used were stupid and shallow and wasteful of their money and would slowly lose their ability to think and communicate. He hated to learn this was her case too. After seeing what happened with Thommy, she would probably end up like that as well.

She noticed his distant expression and asked him if he was alright. He decided to ask. 'You smoke weed?' She looked at the ashtray like she had just remembered about the filters. 'Yeah, occasionally. Why, you wanna smoke?' She looked up at him, with those big green eyes. No, Alba, my brother was an addict I don't want to smoke. 'Nah, I don't smoke.' His expression was betraying him, she knew something was going on. She asked if everything was good. He stubbed the cig in the ashtray and took a few steps back from the window. He wanted to leave again. He knew this wasn't a good idea, he should've stayed by himself. 'What's going on?' She asked again, this time raising her voice just a little to sound more assertive. He could't tell her. He shook his head and reached for his mask, putting it on. She closed the window and came closer to him, on the opposite side of the counter. 'Would you tell me what's going on?'

'I don't like drugs', he finally answered, vaguely. He was ready to put on his jacket and run away. She opened her arms, still looking at him. 'Okay. I understand. Does it bother you I smoke weed?' He tried his best not to think she was accusing him or assuming stuff about him. 'You're an addict', he said, his voice was low and emotionless, his demeanour completely changed. His eyes were dark, with that mask back on it was even harder to read his expressions. She took it as a sign, that he put it back on. 'What? No I'm not!' She crossed her arms. Does he even know what he's talking about? In university, she had full on exams on substance abuse, she was fully aware she wasn't at all addicted to weed. She knew what she was doing, she could stop anytime she wanted. And even if she did have a drug problem, it sure wasn't his place to judge her. I can do what I want. What was he on about?

'I smoke every now and then, that doesn't make me an addict'.

'That's what an addict would say…'

'...io faccio il cazzo che voglio.'

She stayed silent after that. Thing is, she had debated for a long time whether if to get weed and start smoking again was a good idea. She did it soon after the accident, got way too high cause it was her first time after years. But now, she was proud of her routine, she was proud she wasn't dependant on it to sleep, it only helped to take the edge off sometimes. She liked to roll her little joints, she didn't even smoke them whole in the same night, it was just for comfort and unwinding . 'Does it bother you I smoke?' Her tone was assertive and serious, cause she got offender at his assumption. 'It does, it's dangerous and stupid.' He was back to being is normal self then, distant and masked. 'Okay, I didn't ask your opinion. It relaxes me when I can't sleep.' She explained. 'So you like it?' He took a step foreword, she was repressing more italian from slipping out. 'I don't need to explain myself to you.'

'Fine then.' He sounded so fucking childish and petty it was making her mad. He definitely had some trauma attached to drugs, it would explain his adversion. She took a step back and leant against the stovetop. A part of her wanted him to leave, she wanted to challenge him to leave. Realistically, even if he was still standing there in front of her unmoving, he would have left if she asked him to. 'Why won't you tell me why it bothers you?' She tried to sound more open. She channeled the therapist in her. 'I don't have to explain myself to you.' Now, in normal settings, she would have told anyone to fuck off at that point. She decided to take it as a challenge and a meditation exercise. She took her time, breathing in. I really hate you right now. 'Not telling me won't do you any good…' she tried. 'Are you threatening me?' She felt sorry for him. He wasn't his fault, poor thing. It never was, it happened countless times during therapy, every single one of her patients had guilt inside them, and trust issues and the inability to distance themselves from work. She had thought Simon was no different, with the exception his trauma was probably rooted inside him, covered by bad coping mechanisms and denial.

'Jesus Christ, Simon. No.' She took a step towards him. 'Let go of that military shit. How am I supposed to understand if you don't talk?' He looked like he was finally listening. 'I want to know why you don't like it, I care about your opinion.' He stayed silent for a few seconds, probably trying to decide whether to trust her or not. 'My brother was an addict.' His brother, probably deceased. She remembered he said his family passed, he meant all family members? It made sense, and she was grateful he had told her. His whole family was dead, that was what he said during the walk with Jinx a few weeks back. Her eyes softened. 'Thank you for telling me.' He needed to know his past was safe with her. 'Does the fact I smoke remind you of him?' He looked at his feet and was playing with a string of fabric from his hoodie. 'Yes.' he said.

'I understand. There are many stages to substance abuse, Simon. Would you believe me if I told you I am not addicted to weed? The amount I smoke is so small I couldn't get addicted even if I tried.'

'…yes.'

'That's good.'

Silence had filled the room, they looked at each other like they were deciding whether the night should end there or they could still hang out. The music still played in the background, it was almost eleven at night. She thought if she didn't initiate a conversation they would look at each other all night, which she didn't mind cause he was handsome. But still. He surprised her when he spoke first.

'You can still get addicted.'

She chucked, 'I don't have the money for a drug addiction Simon.'

'I don't like it.'

'Are you asking me to stop smoking?'

'Yes. Use melatonin to sleep.'

'You have no control on how I live my life, I’m sorry.'

She crossed her harms on her chest. She didn't know what to think, maybe it meant he cared about her wellbeing, maybe he was just selfish and didn't understand how social interactions worked. She finally moved from her spot against the stovetop and opened the box of chocolates. She turned around and got the with cake she had baked. He looked at her while she cut him a piece and placed it on a paper towel. He read her expression, he read her kind eyes. She was saying you can stay or you can go. This piece of cake is for you, though. His eyes on her were the definition of fear. He looked so incredibly stiff and uncomfortable. She felt bad again. He didn't have a family, he didn't have a partner, he didn't have anywhere to be for Christmas and had probably been alone for the majority of his adult life. It was no surprise he wasn't used to kindness. When you're shown with care for the first time after a life of violence, it might be scary. But her, it took her so much violence to become that kind, and she thought he knew. He knew. She pushed the piece of cake towards him as a peace offering.

'I bet you put strawberries in this…' He murmured.

When she smiled, he felt like she put a hand through his chest and caressed his heart.

notes: florence chocolate cake recipe???

taglist:

@ghostlythots @sweetfemmefatal @natxpat @chavarriakeren647 @ravenmoore14 @farther-than-pleiades @internallyscreamings @hwromi @atoxicrat @cuti3maddi3 @deafeningkittenblaze @its-celeste @serene-hills @lexidoll12 @poohkie90 @lunatiquess

@warmedbythebody @katzykat @iristhemuse @azkza @keiraslayz @abbyandermine @jennyjencakes @dest-nai @corset-briefs @nutze-kekse @ilytsukiw @b3anspr0ut

@pondsblog @missyouzoe @fallenkitten @bigauthorrascalturkey @bethtay @angelynn-nicole @starluv @stargirlisworld @giyuuslittleslut @impossiblecupcakelight

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[good-beanswrites]

Heyo!! :D uhh I was just thinking about prompts!! I have two that I've just been thinking of! You can do one or the other, I don't mind ^^ Yuno with Blanket (if you havent done that yet :o) and Muu and Yuno with Honesty :D

Thank you so much :D!! Your writing is so funky I love reading it, it's like my daily newspaper abejfncjcn

Hi Mug :D thank you so much aah!! I really loved these combos, that's so sweet for both of them ;-; Here's Yuno and Blanket -- something lighthearted from the beginning of t1, with a bit of her unfortunate people-pleasing habits.

“Requests are in!” Mikoto’s voice sang from down the corridor. The prisoners perked up from where they’d been lazing about. One would have thought he'd announced a jailbreak with the amount of energy that rippled through the room. Yuno leapt to her feet.

"You seem excited," Kazui chuckled as he stood. "What are you getting?"

She suddenly felt a twinge of shame for her reaction. Things weren’t bad in Milgram by any means, but the atmosphere was beginning to creep under her skin now and then. There was an old comfort she’d been dreaming of the past few weeks. It felt embarrassing to say to someone as concerned with his maturity as Kazui. 

"Oh, nothing much,” she said. “Just something that reminds me of home, like the cigarettes you ordered." She didn’t know him well enough to say so, but she was secretly grateful for his request. The smell of smoke was familiar to her as well. "But mostly it's something new around here -- isn't the whole thing exciting?" 

It was the first time they’d received a delivery, and everyone was eager to see if they got what they ordered. Though Yuno found the system surprising, it made sense. Milgram allowed more unique freedoms than a normal prison, given it also inflicted more unique restraints. 

She joined the group heading down the hall, all chattering in anticipation. 

"Yuno!" Mahiru waved her over. The woman had talked about the products and creams she'd requested, in the hope of keeping up her skincare routine. Yuno would be following suit soon, though she wanted those things to keep herself feeling refreshed rather than looking a certain way. There was no one here to impress. With her looks, that was.

Mahiru’s eyes gleamed. "What did you order?"

Yuno knew she wouldn't satisfy her appetite for gossip as much as Shidou testing his luck with medical supplies or Amane’s taste in high-level study materials had. 

"Something real cute~" was all she needed to say to get her giggling. 

Es instructed them to line up in front of their room to distribute everything. Yuno found her place behind Haruka. 

"Hey, hey! What are you getting?" She wasn't immune from that same gossipy curiosity…

His cheeks immediately reddened. "Uh, well, I h-hope I can get some c-candy. It -- I mean, it's kiddish, I know."

"Don't worry, some might think my request is childish, haha! Plus, I think Muu ordered sweets, too."

This seemed to calm him a bit as he walked ahead. Fuuta nudged her from behind.

"Oi, what did you ask for?"

She'd overheard him and Kotoko discussing what would likely be caught as a tool to escape, and knew her answer would disappoint him.

The bright smile she’d given Haruka angled into a more jaded smirk. "Eh, just something to get me through the night, you know? A practical comfort."

Fuuta grunted, respecting the choice. 

Her attention returned to the front of the line, where Haruka was returning with loose treats spilling from his hands. She took his place in Es' doorway.

"Prisoner 002," Es scanned a piece of paper. "For you… ah,” They read it again. “Just a blanket? Was that all?" 

She beamed. "Yup! Just a blanket." 

“You strike me as the kind to ask for a lot…”

“Mmm, you’ve read me well, Warden! Not this time, though. Gotta start small, then see what I can weasel out of you!” She winked. As usual, Es pretended to be unimpressed. Yuno knew she was wearing them down, bit by bit.

She offered a bouncy bow as Es handed it over. She hadn’t given many specifications, but it certainly looked as big and fluffy as she had hoped. Milgram had gone with pink -- the same shade as some of her uniform accents. 

"Thanks!" 

The prisoners' excitement died down fairly quickly afterwards. Amane began reading in silence. Kazui retreated to the smoking room alone, though Shidou and Mikoto promised to join him after the next round of requests. Haruka had nearly finished eating all of his candy by nightfall. Kotoko sat by herself to jot things down in her new notebook. Yuno’s good mood lasted much later. 

Once the bell had rung and silence fell onto the prison, she could feel the usual chill start to creep into her cell. It had gripped her with fear the first few nights -- that unshakable coldness that reminded her why she was here in the first place. Sometimes, when her body jolted her awake with the feeling of falling, she'd blame it on the temperature rather than a universal human experience. It brought up too many painful memories to be something so ordinary, after all.

But not tonight. 

Tonight there would be no falling, and no chill. No stepping into bed with enough skin showing to make her shiver. No more crafted conversations or flashing certain expressions.

A goofy grin spread across her cheeks. Yuno unfolded the blanket with a flourish. She swept it around her body, then flopped down on her bedding. With nothing more to worry about, she sank into the cushy blob.

‘Just a blanket’ her ass. This was the warmest she’d felt in a very long time.

[brynngrant]

Ever since bowling, Erica had been spending more and more time with those idiots. To the point where his friends had noticed: Cody'd looked over at him when he'd joined them for studying, smirked and said, "Uh oh, trouble in paradise?" He'd clenched his jaw so hard he thought he'd cracked a tooth, and made an effort to ask Erica to hang out more. She seemed to have taken the hint, because she'd stopped hanging out with them so much, and started spending time with her usual friends again. That was fine with him; they needed time apart, and her other friends were ok.

Brynn skipped breakfast in favour of smoking his way through three cigarettes. They didn't have the calming influence they once did, but it was a habit, to turn to them when he was irritated. He blew out a long breath, and headed to the Great Hall, looking for Erica. That, too, was a habit, something that used to help when he was annoyed. "Oh, hey," he greeted her, allowing the cheek peck, and wrapping an arm around her, leading her away from the Hall. They had some time before first lesson, they could hang out.

In an attempt to stop feeling guilty about emotionally cheating on Brynn, Erica had stopped hanging out with Roxy and Dakota so much. It had been nice in some ways, as she’d ended up spending more time with Jessie and Maia again (and Al, since Jessie and he had finally got their act together and started dating), but she missed Roxy and Dakota like crazy. Brynn had started acting nicer to her, though, and she’d felt like he actually liked her again. Any time Erica didn’t spend with her two best friends, she spent with Brynn, even if she often felt like she was irritating him by just being there. She had been making an effort to fit herself into his timetable, rather than daring to suggest that he change something in his schedule to hang out with her. However, she’d noticed that she was still pretty miserable, even though she’d been following all his advice about when she should be studying and what she should be eating. Brynn still seemed to find some way to criticise her, so Erica knew she must still be doing something wrong. As Erica ate breakfast (she managed a banana before she felt too self-hating to eat anything more), she glanced up and saw Roxy looking at her with some concern. Erica managed a tight smile before getting up, feeling that Roxy seemed like she was about to come and talk to her. Wanting to avoid that, she left the Great Hall speedily, clocking Brynn heading in her direction. She forced a smile onto her face, feeling the pangs of sadness about having to run away from Roxy. “Hey, babe,” she greeted him, pecking him on the cheek.

[jamaisjoons]

erised ⤑ pjm | m.

⟶ 𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦:〝 the last thing jimin had anticipated when he’d followed you into the room of requirement was to find you, the demure little head-girl, in front of the mirror of erised. moaning his name. 〞hogwarts au. pwp au.

❥ 𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: slytherin head-boy!jimin x hufflepuff head-girl!reader

❥ 𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: mild angst ⋆ fluff ⋆ smut

❥ 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡: 29k 🥴

⟶ 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: hard dom!jimin, big cock!jimin, possessive!jimin, sub!reader, virgin!reader, female masturbation, mirror sex, voyeurism, exhibitionism, teasing, minor thigh spanking, fingering, degradation, humiliation, dirty talk, corruption kink, biting, orgasm denial, orgasm control, begging, pussy slapping, marking, object play? he teases her with a vibrating wand, praise, object insertion, clit spanking, crying, begging, overstimulation, clit torture, forced orgasms, multiple orgasms, squirting, manhandling, spanking, minor anal play/teasing, power play/dnyamics, virgin sex, wet & mess sex, unprotected sex, once again jimin has a ᵖʰᵃᵗ cock, kneeling doggy style (kind of oath sex position), mild pain kink, rough sex, hair pulling, creampie, brief cum play

➵ 𝑎/𝑛: sol writing a jimin au? truly, it must be a miracle,,,,, this really was supposed to only be a 5k commission,,, but i thot if i need to suffer and write for jimin,,,, perhaps i should suffer and write him an entire au with plot,, just like he deserves 😌

⏤ commissioned by @opaljm​​ in exchange for a blm donation // beta read the these lovely people: @yeoldontknow​, @luffles424​, @peekaboongi​, @sunshinekims​, @inthecrescentmoonight​, @tricethecharm​, @jjungkooksthighs​, @dontaskshhhhh​ and @nervouskiwi​!!

⏤ disclaimer: in order to ensure all characters are 18+, i’ve tweaked the hogwarts curriculum to include ‘apprenticeships’ and ‘masterships’, essentially wizarding equivalent of graduates/post-grad, and as a result, yn is 21 and jimin is 22!! // additional disclaimer: i know absolutely fuck all about tarot cards and readings and therefore thank you to the lovely @yeoldontknow​ for picking which cards to use as well as giving me the explanations/details of the reading!

⇥ this ones for all my kinky virgins out there, hope y’all stay freaks 😤

Hidden in the private dorms of the Potions Apprentice Quarters, you sit on the floor in the common room. Large, arched windows litter one side of the room, charmed - just like the Great Hall’s ceiling - to reflect the weather outside of the castle. Though, unlike the Great Hall, the charm could be turned off at will - allowing a magnificent, if not eerie, view of the underwaters of the Black Lake and all of its creatures. Currently, the charm is off, and the lake’s murky waters cast a dark hue to the room, bathing everything with a dark-teal tinge. Dark, crushed-velvet curtains drape down from the ceiling, the velour fabric only adding to the ominous scene of the Black Lake.

Despite the dismally grim sight of the lake, the rest of the common room is pleasant, and homely - if a little cold. With the space shared by all Potion’s Apprentices, from years eight to ten, regardless of the house, the interior is decorated in shades of black and grey rather than Hogwarts House colours. Dark, almost black, wenge wood furniture litters the room: from the large beams that run across the ceiling - holding onto the chandeliers, to the towering bookcases that fringe one wall of the room - brimming with rare potion tomes; as well as the glass-lined cabinets that cluster one corner of the room - teeming with vials and flasks of all sorts of potioneering ingredients.

The carpet that lines the flooring, however, is a light shade of mottled grey - the material piled and shaggy, and oh so soft under bare feet. Lavish leather sofas and armchairs of smoke-grey sit in one corner of the room, right beside the ornate brick fireplace; and a large frame of white gold hangs above the mantelpiece, containing the portrait of Gunhilda de Gorsemoor: a gifted potioneer who had developed the cure for Dragon Pox in the sixteenth century. Potions tables occupy the far corner, right beside the ingredients cabinets; each surface littered with a series of flasks and beakers, as well as glass phials, a pestle and mortar, various ingredient prepping tools; and, of course, a cauldron.

A sudden chill runs through the air, causing a shudder to run down your spine. It’s the middle of November, and yet, somehow the air feels colder in the common room. Though, you have a feeling that’s more to do with the fact that the dormitory is located in a far corner of the Hogwarts Dungeons, as well as being surrounded by the cold waters of the Black Lake. You don’t know why, perhaps it was just an oversight, but the temperature of the dungeons had always been bitterly biting. As a result, you nestled further into the warmth of the furry blanket laid over your lap - a gracious comfort from the brisk chill in the air. You’ve been living in the Apprentice Quarters for almost three years now, and yet, you’re still not used to the frigid temperatures of your dorms. To be honest, you don’t think you ever will.

Of course, being a Hufflepuff, you’d spent seven years on the floor just above - the common room located in the basement of Hogwarts. Alas, contrary to the dungeons, the basement is warm, in particular the Hufflepuff Common Room, and so, these past three years, you’ve struggled with the cold. Part of you wishes you were still within the comfort of the dorms you’d spent the better part of your Hogwarts Career in. However, after graduating from seventh year, you’d immediately applied for an apprenticeship in Potions. Upon having succeeded in your application, it had meant you’d had to move into the Dungeons, and from the Hufflepuff Dorms to the Potions Apprentice Quarters - a living space you currently share with Park Jimin.

Speaking of Jimin, he sits beside you and, unlike you, the cold doesn’t seem to bother him one bit. In fact, on the contrary to your body huddled into the shaggy comforter, the Slytherin Head Boy is casually pouring over the table: his back bent as his dark eyes skim across the parchment paper. His cloak rests casually on the sofa’s armrest, his sleeves rolled to his elbows and hair dangling in front of his eyes. You don’t know how he does it; how he so easily braces himself against the cold. Though, it could be because he’s spent ten years in the dungeons now - having acclimated to the cold over the decade.

From the corner of your peripheral vision, you take in the Head Boy. Naturally, you and Jimin had grown up together throughout your time at Hogwarts. And so, you’ve seen him change from the pudgy little eleven-year-old boy he was, to the man he is now. At twenty-two, Park Jimin is every bit the Pureblood Aristocrat he was born and bred to be: with dark pine-green hair that falls like silk around his face and sharp, cunning eyes - nestled between soft lids - that could stare into your soul and discover your deepest, darkest secrets (without the use of Legilimency).

Eyes scanning over his form, you watch as his lips quirk in concentration, his own gaze skimming across the large potions textbook as he jots down his notes. Against your will, your stare is pulled toward his hands. One is splayed onto the textbook, his pointer finger marking his current space on the page. The other glides across the parchment in front of him, his Eagle Quill scrawling over the paper in balletic movements as he jots down his notes. The gracefulness of the motions immediately captures your attention. His hands always surprise you, no matter what they’re doing. They’re somewhat small, and on the thick side - and a lot of the time they look incredibly cute. However, sometimes - like now - you’re surprised by how… attractive they are.

His fingers loosely grip the quill, the flexion of his knuckles practically mesmerising you as they protrude through his smooth, creamy skin. The bony features of his digits, and knuckles, are only emphasised by the thick rhodium ring he wears on his middle finger: the palatial band studded with gems of dark lilac and ebony. You have no doubt that it’d cost a fortune. Though, it’s probably closer to priceless; and most likely an antique, Park family heirloom. The backs of his hands are vascularised, and with each movement, you note the way the prominent vein bulges. You don’t know what he’s writing, but whatever it is, you know it��s probably incredibly advanced. In fact, it wouldn’t surprise you if he were scribbling different ingredients and their uses down, so he could create his own concoctions.

When you’d first moved in with Jimin, three years ago at the start of your apprenticeship, you’d been surprised by how often he’d actually studied. Particularly because Jimin was naturally gifted in Potions, and on his way to being one of the most skillful Potioneers the Wizarding World had ever seen. Thus, it was no surprise when you’d found out he was the other chosen Potions Apprentice for your year. Soft sigh drawing from your lips, you turn your attention back to your task at hand. Or well, tasks.

Juxtaposingly to Jimin, you were by no means a Potions Genius. Of course, you loved the subject, it’s just that you had to work a little harder in order to keep your grades up. Hence, the sight that greets you. Three pewter cauldrons sit on the table in front of you; the corners of your lips quirked into a frown as you inspect them. One of the pots contains a deep burgundy liquid, the potion rippling blood-red under the lighting of the torch sconces; signifying its completion. As a result, it’s the only one that’s set to the side. The other two still bubble over the bunsen burner: the left shimmers a pale, pearlescent lilac, while the right is a strange, putrid puce colouring that has you worried.

With a glance down to the potion tome beside you, your frown deepens. At this stage in the potion’s brewing, it should be a soft orange shade, not fetid-green. A low hum of distress emanates from your throat while you skim down the recipe - wondering just where you’d gone wrong. No matter how much you scour the textbook, you simply can’t seem to find it, and slowly, you grow more desperate. Especially as the potion’s critical stage approaches. You need to add minced Puffer-Fish soon, but if you add it now, when something is clearly wrong, you don’t know what will happen. Though, you doknow it will result in a useless potion.

Without warning, “You didn’t powder the Bone fine enough,” comes a husky voice. The sound vibrates right beside your ear, a warm breath simultaneously fanning across the outer shell of your ear. Abruptly, you jump in your seat, almost knocking the brass scales holding your meticulously measured Puffer-Fish mince to the floor.

Almost as if he’d anticipated your movement, Jimin’s hand shoots out to steady the apparatus. Although, even as his arm moves, he stays unbelievably close to you, and the proximity of his pillowy mouth next to your ears has goosebumps pricking at your skin. Angling your head, you come face to face with him, your eyes going wide. Directly adjacent to yours, his lips are just a hair’s breadth from yours - so close, in fact, that they virtually graze against yours. Heat creeps up: from the base of your throat, all the way up to the tips of your ears; and not expecting him to be so near, you jolt away.

The motion causes Jimin to quirk a perfectly sculpted eyebrow at you, and his reaction only has the flush to your cheeks deepening. Ducking your head down, you tuck a stray hair behind your ear, and, “Oh… I didn’t realise,” you mutter under your breath.

The instant the words fall from your lips you blanch, internally kicking yourself. I didn’t realise. What a joke. You’d fucked up your entire potion and all you could say was I didn’t realise. By Morgana, you wish the ground would open up and swallow you whole. Here you are, a Potions Apprentice, and you hadn’t realised the bone wasn’t powdered fine enough. How had you even made it here? Especially since the potion you’d managed to botch was the Skele-Gro potion; one taught to second years. Meanwhile, your Blood-Replenishing potion, an expert recipe, is completely perfect and complete.

If Jimin cares about your response, he doesn’t say anything. Rather, he gestures towards your cauldron. “Why are you brewing three potions at once? Even brewing onerequires all your attention and concentration,” he states plainly, causing you to wince imperceptibly. He doesn’t mean to, but inadvertently, he’s rubbed salt into your wound.

“Madam Pomfrey’s running out of certain potions and I offered to help replenish them,” you reply, your voice coming out quieter than you’d intended to. Jimin simply hums.

“I guess that explains the potions you’re making. I was almost worried,” he says, his soft lips pulling tight as a lop-sided smirk crawls onto his mouth.

Not understanding, your eyebrows knit together. “Worried?” you frown. Jimin’s smirk only deepens, before he lounges back on the cream sofa. The movement draws attention to his strong body, his toned muscles bulging under his shirt, while his thighs strain against the tight material of his slacks.

“I mean, you’re brewing Blood-Replenishing, Skele-Gro and Wound-Cleaning potions out of the blue, any sensible person would be worried about their safety. I was starting to fear that you’d hex me, and then heal me before I could report you,” he jokes.

Swiftly, your jaw drops, and hastily shaking your head, “I would never-” you begin retorting, only for Jimin to hold up a hand and halt you.

“Yes, yes, you would never hurt me. Or anyone for that matter. I know, ____. It was just a joke,” Jimin cuts you off with a chuckle. “Besides, you’re too much of a Hufflepuff to think of anything so cunning,” he continues. His words have you blushing harder, your bottom lip protruding in a slight pout. After a brief pause, he nods to your cauldrons once again. “Anyway, that doesn’t explain why you’re brewing three at a time,” he says, his sentence phrased more like a question. With a sigh, you feel your shoulders deflate with weariness and lifting up a hand, you rub the bridge of your nose.

“She needs them as soon as possible. Quidditch games are going to start soon, and she’ll need all her potions restocked by then. If I don’t get them out of the way today, I won’t have any time to do them between Head Girl Duties and the Apprenticeship,” you answer

“Hmm… Still though… three potions at once is a lot. More than that, if they’re healing potions, you need to be even more careful. One wrong step and it could mean the difference between life and death,” he lectures. You know he means it well, and he doesn’t mean to upset you, but you can’t help the way your stomach sinks at his words.

He’s completely right - potion making, at its heart, is both a science and an artform. Of course, most magic requires careful consideration, however, potions even more so. Namely because, as he’d said, the slightest error could change the entire nature of the potion. That exact reason is why you’re here, as a Potion’s Apprentice. You see, your life’s dream is to qualify as a Healer, and in order to be a Healer, you now need to have some sort of post-N.E.W.T qualifications in either Potions, Charms, Transfiguration, Defence Against the Dark Arts or Herbology. Of course, it hadn’t always been like this. Before the Second Wizarding War, once a student had graduated from Hogwarts, they would be required to enter into a Healer’s program, or any job really, straight away.

However, once Voldemort had been defeated, the entire Wizarding World had needed to rebuild itself - having lost too much in the aftermath of the Final Battle. In a way, it had been somewhat of a - morbid - blessing; mainly because, it had meant that the stagnating magical community had grown and bolstered itself into the twenty-first century. One of the consequenting changes, had been the reintroduction of Apprenticeships and Masterships, meaning that students now had an option to gain an extra qualification or two that would better prepare them for the future jobs - kind of similar to the muggle equivalent of university. Though, of course, these apprenticeships continued through Hogwarts, rather than a separate magical institute.

Naturally, with your dream job being a healer, you’d taken up the Potion’s Apprenticeship. Mostly due to the fact that you want to work in the Cures and Remedies Department of St. Mungo’s: a department dedicated to brewing potions, as well as creating new ones for the ever-developing medical needs in the Wizarding Community. Which is also why Jimin’s lecture hits you harder. If you were already making such silly mistakes, you’ll sooner fail your dream than achieve it - and probably kill or harm a few people while you’re at it.

Realising that Jimin had stopped talking, a tense silence befalling the two of you while you wallow in self-pity, “I’m sorry,” you mutter under your breath. As soon as he hears the despondent tone to your voice, Jimin’s face softens.

“No need to apologise, you didn’t do it maliciously,” Jimin says. Then, nudging your knee with his foot, “Scoot over,” he says.

Eyebrows creasing, curiosity colours your face as you watch him close his book, before waving his wand and muttering a couple spells under his breath. Immediately, his parchment rolls up into a scroll, before flying through the air and into his bedroom; along with the rest of his things. Once he’s cleared his stuff, he scuttles off of the sofa, and onto the floor beside you. In your confusion, you hadn’t moved quick enough, and as a result, Jimin’s crossed knee falls onto your lap. With a blank stare, you glance down at his thick thigh, and feeling the weight of his limb onto yours, you quickly kick yourself into motion.

Shuffling to the side, you make space for Jimin, the Head Boy slotting into the space next to you and under your blanket - the cover draping over his own lap. In your new position, he’s now level with you, your pantyhose-clad knee brushing against his while your shoulders practically touch. He’s close enough that the scent of his expensive cologne is more prominent: notes of sandalwood and bergamot dancing in the air and through your senses. The woodsy-sweet aroma virtually entrances you, your head swimming with the beguiling fragrances and beckoning you to sink deep into them. For a moment, you take a deep, albeit subtle, breath - wanting to breathe it in even more. Nonetheless, Jimin’s voice is swiftly breaking you out of your trance.

“You need to add minced Puffer-Fish to this, right?” he asks as he peers at the Skele-Gro potion, the rancid-green liquid still bubbling under the high heat of your bunsen burner. Abruptly coming to your senses, you nod, trying to ignore the fuzzy warmth that settles in the pits of your stomach. “If you add it now, it’s most likely going to result in Skele-Gro,” Jimin mumbles, and hearing him, you immediately perk up. Perhaps all wasn’t lost yet. That is, until you hear him continue. “Except… it will probably result in the bones continuously growing without stopping - even once they’ve fixed themselves.”

“Oh. So I need to start over?” you ask as you pull your bottom teeth between your lips. Did you even have time for that? Or ingredients? If you go down to Slughorn’s Office in order to get a fresh supply, he’ll most likely question why and you’d rather notexplain that it’s because you’d been incompetent enough to mess up a second year level potion.

Jimin hums in thought. “No, I don’t think so. You’re also brewing Wound-Cleaning Potion, yes? That means you have Dittany Essence?” he asks, causing you to nod and pass him the dark-blue vial. “Adding three drops should counteract the effects and bring it back to what it’s supposed to be,” he continues, and you watch as he uncaps the glass bottle, before carefully pipetting exactly three drops of the solution into the cauldron. After placing the Dittany Essence back down, he stirs the potion anticlockwise five-times, and you observe in complete awe as the potion returns to a pale orange - the exact colour it's supposed to be.

“How did you…?” you breathe out, astonishment heavily lacing your voice. Beside you, Jimin simply shrugs.

“It’s a common mistake second years make when brewing Skele-Gro… not powdering the bone finely enough, I mean. Adding three drops of Dittany Essence and then stirring anticlockwise five times brings it back,” he replies casually. Despite his nonchalant tone, though, you find your body slackening with defeat.

“I can’t believe I made such a stupid mistake…” you mumble under your breath. The self-deprecating tone to your voice has Jimin clicking his tongue at you in a tut as he nudges your knee with his.

“Don’t beat yourself up over it. You’re brewing three potions at once - and two of them are advanced potions. Both of which you’ve brewed perfectly so far. You probably didn’t notice that the powdered bone wasn’t fine enough because you didn’t expect to mess up a simple potion,” Jimin immediately says - in a bid to comfort you. It works, because swiftly, you feel your stomach flip: butterflies blooming in the pits of your abdomen at his praise.

Against your will, a smile creeps onto your face - the corners of your lips tugging, and, “Thank you,” you mutter under your breath. A tinkling laugh slips through Jimin’s lips, and he bumps his shoulder into yours.

“You’re a perfectionist and a hard worker, ____. Both of those traits make a good Potioneer, ____. Which you are. If you weren’t, you wouldn’t be here. You need to stop beating yourself up over small things,” he continues. His face is twisted into a bright smile, his plump lips stretched thin and displaying his teeth, as the apples of his cheeks bunch under his eyes - causing his eyelids to slit into thin, crescent-moons. Your own lips tug into a sheepish smile, and you look at him gratefully.

“I know… it’s just such a silly mistake,” you respond.

Jimin snorts at your answer, and, “Everyone makes silly mistakes. Even a Potions Master or Mistress. It’s inevitable with the amount of potions we brew,” he scoffs. His words placate you even further, and you feel your earlier upset fade to nothingness - replaced by ease. Sensing the fact that you’ve perked up, Jimin grabs the rest of the prepared ingredients for the Skele-Gro potion. You look at him in surprise, Jimin simply smiling kindly in response.

“Why don’t you focus on the Wound-Cleaning potion? I’ll finish up the Skele-Gro,” he suggests. Swiftly, you shake your head.

“No, no. It’s okay! I’ll be more careful! You don’t need to help if you’re busy,” you quickly refuse - not wanting to be a burden - as you reach for the ingredients once again. Jimin simply scowls, and holding out his arms, he uses his strength to bar your hands from touching the tray.

“I’m not busy - I was just doing some light research on Phoenix Tears. Now be a goodgirl and let me help you,” he hisses. The instant the command falls from his lips, you feel your stomach twist, and your eyes widen slightly at the command. For a moment you still, not expecting them. There’s a playful lilt to his voice, and you know he doesn’t mean anything by it; yet, you still find your arms obediently dropping to your side.

Head ducking down, you turn your gaze to the surface of the table in front of you, in an attempt to hide your face from Jimin’s view. It would not do well for him to see the barest hint of a blush on your face. Especially since he hadn’t meant it in that way in the first place. Nodding your head, you acquiesce to him, and begin working on your potion once again; Jimin taking over for the second one.

The two of you work in near silence - the quiet broken up by the sounds of the bubbling potion, and the hissing of the fire. Intermittently, the blunt sound of chopping or the sound of the pestle grinding into the mortar echoes through the air: the two of you continuously prepping your ingredients as you brew your potion. With how close you are to each other, you practically invade each other’s space, and yet, as if by magic, neither of you get into each other’s way. While you concoct your respective draughts, every now and then, you find your attention wandering towards Jimin.

In the midst of brewing, Jimin is fascinatingly exquisite. That’s the only way you could describe it. Warm honey-kissed skin glows under the saffron lights of your dorms, the high arcs of his cheekbones glistening with every movement. The button of his nose is slightly scrunched, and similarly, his lips are pulled into a tight purse: his entire visage an epitome of concentration. The potion is easy, and an elixir he could very well brew in his sleep. Nevertheless, he focuses on each and every one of his actions, working meticulously and methodically as he concocts his potion.

Deft hands move expertly, alternating from preparing the different ingredients and adding them to the mixture, to carefully stirring the potion. Umber eyes scrupulously watch the simmering cauldron, his keenly trained gaze observing the elixir for even the slightest changes. You have no doubt that under his ever watchful eyes, the potion will be of the highest quality, even with how relatively easy it is to create. At some point, you finish your potion, and turning off of your bunsen burner, you turn your attention to Jimin. Unable to help yourself, you find yourself completely lost in how he effortlessly works; each movement, each gesture, completely second nature to him. It’s an artform. It has to be. At least, with the way he works it is.

You don’t know how long you watch him - but with each second that passes, you note something more about Jimin. You notice the way his eyes light up every time he successfully completes a stage, and the way the soft skin of his eyelids flutter, thick eyelashes kissing his cheeks, every time he blinks. You notice the slight sheen of perspiration that coats the back of his neck, most likely from the heat of the bunsen burner, rather than tenseness. Mesmerised by the movement, you follow a single drop of sweat - watching the way it trails down the thick curve of his neck and over the subtle bulge of his Adam’s apple, before percolating into the collar of his shirt.

Out of the blue, Jimin lets out a deep sigh, and with how intensely you observe him, you notice the way his shoulders ease - the movement so faint your eyes essentially strain to spot the movement. The motion is surprising, because the potion is easy, and yet, he still felt some level of tension. Though, that only leads you to appreciate him and his love for potions even more. Potion Making is easy for Jimin, and for the greatest part of it, it comes instinctually to him - but still, he takes the utmost care with each brew - no matter what the difficulty.

A strained groan resonates through the air, Jimin’s throat rumbling as he stretches out the kinks in his muscles. Thoughtlessly, he lifts his arms above his head, the muscles of his biceps pulling taut against the material of his shirt, and the motion causes the hem of his shirt to rise above the waistband of his black slacks. Against your will, your gaze finds itself drawn towards his waist, your eyes honing in on the sliver of his smooth skin of his hips that peeks through the gap. You don’t eye it for long, however, because as soon as it comes it's gone, Jimin’s hands drop down to his sides; the shirt’s hem consequently falling back into place.

“Are you all done?” his voice suddenly tears through the silence, and abruptly, your eyes snap back up to his - watching as he flicks off the flame under his cauldron.

“W-What?” you stutter, prompting Jimin to arch a strong eyebrow.

“Are you done with the Wound-Cleaning potion?” Jimin reiterates, purposely enunciating each of his words. Owlishly, you blink at him, your stare completely blank. At the same time, your brain slowly processes his words, your mind still slightly spellbound by his previous beguile, and eventually, you process his words.

Jerking slightly, “Yes!” you practically yelp, only to wince at the loudness of your own voice. Swiftly, you compose yourself, and clearing your throat, “Sorry… yes. I’m done,” you mumble. A look of concern flashes across Jimin’s face, and carefully he sweeps his gaze over you.

“Are you okay?” he asks, and the clear worry etched into his voice has your heart fluttering.

“Y-Yes,” you squeak out, wanting nothing more than to bury yourself into the blanket over your laps. For a fleeting instant, Jimin watches you carefully, and momentarily, you fear he’s going to press you further. Nonetheless, a couple of seconds later, he’s shrugging you off.

Glancing at the grandfather clock nestled in one unassuming corner of your shared common room, “Oh wow. Has it really been that long? It’s almost dinner time,” he murmurs, an astonished inflexion lacing his voice. Following his gaze, your own eyebrows widen when you spot the ornate clock, the baroque hands reading six-thirty. “I’m going to go shower and then head down,” Jimin begins as he gets up from his space beside you. His movement causes the blanket to partially fall off of your lap, exposing your right leg to the air, and involuntarily, you shudder at the cold.

“Go on then, I’ll wait for you,” you readily respond as you pull the blanket back over your lap. Drawn up to his full height, Jimin looks down at you curiously.

“Are you sure? I may be a while,” he replies, causing you to shrug and wave him off.

Waving your wand, you mutter an ‘Accio’ and summon a book from the shelves that line one wall of the common room. “Take as long as you need. I’m not hungry right now anyway. We can go down together when you’re done,” comes your own response.

Spinning on the heels of his Dragonhide boots, “Alright then. Thanks, ____,” he calls out as he walks back towards the bathroom. Your only response in a noncommittal hum, your attention already drawn to the book.

It’s almost half an hour later, when you hear Jimin return from the shower. Automatically peering up from your book, you move to close it - now more than hungry and ready to go down to dinner. Nonetheless, the moment you spot Jimin, you find yourself freezing. The door to the bathroom is wide open, clouds of steam gently drifting through the threshold and dancing around his frame as he steps into the common room. However, it’s not the water vapour that has your attention. No. it’s Jimin.

The very Jimin who is dressed in nothing but a thick towel wrapped around his waist.

Park Jimin is by no means short. Of course, compared to some of the other wizards that inhabit the castle, he’s not considered tall either. Nonetheless, he stands imposingly - a raw, powerful swagger that rolls off of his demeanour with every movement. It’s no wonder he’s considered the Slytherin Prince, and as he practically saunters out of the bathroom, with just a towel hanging off of his otherwise naked frame, you can’t help but feel that domineering aura. Droplets of water bead his skin, forming little rivulets as they run down his body and towards the hem of his towel.

The sheen of water that glazes his flesh catches the torchlight that surrounds you, causing his skin to glisten as he’s encased in a halo of gold. His hair is slightly damp, the deep green shade blackening to onyx; the wet tips sticking to his face. Helpless under his charm, your eyes trail down his body: from the corded muscles of his shoulders, down the smooth expanse of his torso - stopping briefly to take in the dusky-mauve nipples that grace his pectorals - and along the faint outline of his abs. When you get to the hem of the towel, your eyes coast over the definition of his hips: your heated stare charting the prominent ‘v’ that carves itself into his pelvis.

Trailing your gaze further down, you level it at his covered crotch. The terry cloth material of his towel is bulky, and effectively hides the rest off his body from your gaze - the bottom edge grazing just past his knees. Still, as he walks, you spot the barest hint of his muscular thigh - the limb peeking through the slit of the towel as he walks towards his bedroom. With each movement, heat flashes across your skin, your spine tingling as you find your stare honed in on his pelvis.

Then, all of a sudden, he’s stopping.

“See something you like, Sweetheart?” Jimin drawls, his voice cutting the terse silence that enwraps the room. Abruptly, you break from your trance, your gaze snapping up to his face.

His arms are crossed across his chest: the sinewy muscles of his biceps bulging under the movement; and his hip is cocked to the side, his knee sticking out through the fabric of his towel as he gazes at you. Wry, but voluptuous, lips are twisted: the thick petals of his mouth pulled in a lop-sided smirk, his teeth poking between the seam - almost predatorily; and taupe-brown eyes twinkle with mischief: a playful light dancing in the onyx depths. From the knowing glint to them, you know he’s spotted you brazenly devouring him with your gaze.

Heat immediately crawls over your cheeks, and you audible swallow, your throat suddenly tight. “N-No,” you squeak out, your head ducking further under the cover of your book. Though, even as you do that, your eyes peek over the edge - an action Jimin easily catches.

Smirk widening into a wolfish grin, “Are you sure, Princess?” he purrs and, hearing the nickname, you can’t help the way your stomach knots in the pit of your abdomen.

“Y-Yes,” you stammer, your body curling further into the side of the sofa - in a bid to make yourself seem smaller. Jimin hums in response. The deep tremors reverberate through the air, echoing through the quiet common room and causing your breath to hitch.

Jimin’s tongue pokes out through the seam of his pouty mouth, and after swiping it across the plush bottom lip, he pulls the petal between his teeth. The act is incredibly enticing: the plush flesh slowly slipping from under his incisors before plumping out once more. Entranced by the movement, your eyes narrow onto his lips, and you suddenly feel your throat run dry. Spotting the way your attention focuses onto his mouth, Jimin lets out a low chuckle, and hearing the rich sound vibrate through the air, you inhale a sharp audible breath.

The sound resonates through the common room, heightened by the quiet - and swiftly, you feel the heat that stains your skin intensify. Body burning under your own embarrassment, you practically curl into the foetal position: your knees pulling towards your chest, a small squeak emanating through your mouth. Hearing the sound, Jimin simply chuckles again, and this time, taking pity on your form, he drops the subject and walks towards his bedroom.

“Cute,” he laughs you off as he shuts the door to his private room. The moment you hear that word, you can’t help the pout that forms onto your face, nor the way you blush ever harder.

Cute.

God you hated when he teased you like that. Partly because of the way a fuzzy warmth settles into your stomach, and partly because you know that’s all you’ll ever be to Park Jimin.

Cute.

Having lived with Jimin for three years, you think you know him pretty well. You know him well enough to know that he keeps Sugar Quills hidden around the dorm, practically addicted to the confectionery; and that he writes letters to his mother once a week, usually on Saturday, in his free time. You know that when he’s had a particularly hard week, he unwinds by reading his prized, first edition copy of ‘The Twelve Uses of Dragon’s Blood’ - a tome he’s had to have read thousands of times by now. You know that despite him being the heir to the Park name - an age old, aristocratic pureblood line that dates back centuries - he doesn’t care about status, or power, and rather judges people on their own merits and hardwork.

You also know that Park Jimin, as sweet as he is, is the biggest playboy the school has ever seen - actively flirting with any and all the other apprentices from the other subjects. It’s not like he could help it. In fact, you’re sure that it’s practically ingrained in his nature. Though, when he looks like that - a frightening middle between incredibly adorable and devastatingly sexy - you sort of understand it. Because if you looked like that, you’d take any and every opportunity to use it as best as you could. And Park Jimin definitely used his allure

A terrifying mix of cunning, ambitious, sweet and distressingly handsome, Park Jimin has probably broken more hearts than you can count; and is most likely the sole reason for every Apprentice’s wet dreams. Girls flocked to him, and boys wanted to be him - so it’s no surprise that Jimin was highly sought after - nor that he was the biggest flirt you’ve ever met. Hence why you hated when he flirted with you. Mostly because, you know he never does it seriously. And also because the last thing any of the girls he actually flirts with are, is cute.

You would know.

You’ve seen them sneak out of your dorms on the off chance he brings them over. Though, more often than not, he tends to sneak into their private quarters. That is, of course, if they aren’t one of the Potions Apprentices from the lower years. You and Jimin being in your third year of the Apprentice program, and your tenth and final year of Hogwarts. That is, of course, unless either of you choose to do your Mastership - which would be another five years.

If you’re being honest, you don’t really have anything against being cute - mainly because when he says it, he says it with a sweet smile. What you do have against it, however, is that he says it almost as if you’re a child, and not a grown, twenty-one-year-old woman. Though, that may be more to do with your own shyness and inexperience; especially in terms of the opposite sex. But still, you couldn’t deny that it hurts sharing a dorm with Jimin, and being in such close proximity, and yet still having him not be attracted to you.

Sure, he flirts with you - using any opportunity he can get to tease the ever-loving hell out of you. But it’s not like he means it, or that he ever takes it any further than his flirtatious banter. Not like he does with most other girls. No. When Jimin flirts with you, there’s always an air of jest, and restraint around him. He doesn’t stare at you with his smouldering gaze - as if he could devour you whole with just his eyes. He doesn’t lower his voice to that raspy husk of his - the one that is filled with a promise of sin. And he definitely doesn’t exude that same aura of raw dominance - the one that has most girls’ cores trembling with an ache that only he can satiate.

Of course, what you do have, in comparison to those other girls, is Jimin’s friendship - which is more than you can say for most of them. Particularly because most of Jimin’s friends tend to be the other guys on the Apprentice Program. After all, it’s hard to befriend the people you’re constantly trying to sleep with, or have slept with. You think. You don’t really know… You know, considering your own sexual inexperience with other men. Yes, Jimin has never shown any interest in you, and he’s never really flirted with you seriously, but at least you can say that you’re actual friends, and that you get on with each other beyond wanting to tear each other’s clothes off.

Although, needless to say, you doubt he’s ever thought of tearing your clothes off.

Which is… not something you can say about yourself.

Lost in your own thoughts, you don’t notice Jimin return - now fully dressed. At least, not until you feel his plush lips ghost against your ear. “Are you ready to go?” comes the low, sultry purr of his voice. Not expecting the sound, you immediately jump in your seat, your head whipping to the side as you stare at him wide eyed. Once again, you come face to face with him - the proximity making you jerk back with a strangled cry.

“Jimin!” you shriek in surprise, and your choked yelp has the Head Boy bursting into a peal of laughter. Heart thundering within the confines of your chest, and the ever-present flush of embarrassment painting your cheeks once again, “Stop doing that!” you chastise, your face twisting into a sulk as you glare at him. Entire body wracked with laughter, Jimin heaves for air as he tries to catch his breath - short gasps breaking through his howling.

When he continues to laugh, your lips twist into a deeper pout, and your glare intensifies; and sensing your rising ire, Jimin swiftly holds up his hands in a motion of surrender. “Sorry, Sorry. You were just so lost in thought, I couldn’t help it,” he chuckles while wiping his teary eyes. “What were you thinking about that had you so enraptured?” he asks, an impudent smile etched onto his lips. Remembering just whatyou’d been thinking about, your blush deepens, and you swiftly shake your head.

“Nothing!” you quickly interject. The abruptness of your answer has Jimin cocking his eyebrow, and eyes narrowing playfully, he looks at you - mischief dancing in his dark eyes.

“Oh? Doesn’t sound like nothing,” he purrs. Then, eyes widening in thought, a smirk creeps onto his face, “Hmmm. Were you thinking about me? Maybe something along the lines about how you’d seen me in just a towel a little earlier?” he croons, and you suck in a sharp breath at the low huskiness to his voice. That’s a first.

Pulling your lip between your teeth, you swiftly shake your head while throwing the blanket off of you. “N-No. I was thinking a-about how h-hungry I am,” you quickly snap, wincing slightly at the shakiness to your voice. It’s a brazen lie. Even you don’t believe you. And there’s no way in hell that Jimin does, at least not from the sly smirk curled onto his lips.

“Are you now? Hungry for food, or something else?” he teasingly quips, causing you to huff.

“S-Shut up. Let’s just go,” you mutter under your breath, your head angled to the ground as to try to hide your own mortification.

Jimin simply laughs at you, his shoulders shaking with mirth, “Whatever you say, Princess.”

On the seventh floor of the North Tower, the next day, you sit in the Divination classroom. Warped shelves frame the circular room, cluttered with various odd curios. Fading tarot cards, argentate scrying mirrors and lustrous crystal balls fill half of the shelves; china teacups, dust-lined feathers, and candle stubs filling the other half. Wooden furniture crams the room, the walnut timber long since scratched, chipped and faded: ravaged with time as some edges collect dust. The classroom is dim, with a few shafts of mellowed sunlight filtering through the greyed, heavy velvet curtains that hang from the tops of the arched windows.

Chandeliers dangled by wrought iron chains - and sheer, red scarves cover the lamps, bathing the room in an eerie crimson glow. A fireplace sits in the front of the room - right by Professor Trelawney’s table - the amber fire flickering behind cast iron grating. Though, rather than illuminating the space in its light, the dancing flames only add to the arcane feel surrounding the room. A brass kettle swings over the hearth as the tea leaves steep; and a sweet, woody scent wafts through the room. Sat at one of the many round tables nestled inside the room, you sink further into the paisley upholstered armchair, watching as the girl opposite you shuffles the Tarot deck effortlessly.

“Do you want a specific reading?” Eve, the eighth year prefect, asks.

Shrugging noncommittally, “Just whatever,” you reply. Eve huffs for a second time, blowing a thick black curl out of her eyes before glaring at you.

“You could at least attempt to take Divination seriously you know, even if you don’t believe in it,” she scolds.

Sending her an apologetic smile, “You know I’m only here to help you with your Divination homework.” Once again, Eve huffs. Nonetheless, with the way her shoulders relax, you know she doesn’t take offence by your words.

“Alright fine,” she sighs in defeat. Then, sending you a grateful look, “Thank you for this by the way. I know you’re busy, being Head Girl and in the last year of your Apprenticeship and all,” she continues, her nose wrinkling in the slightest.

Gracing Eve with a kind smile, you casually wave her off, “It’s alright. I owe you for helping us out anyway,” you respond. From behind you, you hear a low chuckle, causing the hair at the back of your neck to stand on edge as you hear the rich sound.

“You mean we owe her one, Princess.” Breath catching in your throat, you swallow imperceptibly, willing yourself to calm down. “Well, more specifically, I owe her one,” he continues as an afterthought.

His words cause your stomach to flip, butterflies flurrying through and leaving a fuzzy feeling in the pit of your abdomen. Angling your body in the chair, you turn, only to be met face to face with Jimin. With how cramped the Divination classroom is, there’s usually barely any space between the side edges of the various chairs. However, currently, the classroom is mostly empty, less than ten of you occupying it. And yet, somehow, you still find yourself impossibly close to him.

Eyes blowing out marginally, your mouth forms a surprised ‘o’ at the distance, or lack thereof, between the two of you. With how close you are, you can smell his sickeningly sweet breath - the scent of Sugar Quills so strong you can practically taste them on your taste buds. Swiftly realising your position, you back away in an abrupt movement - your chair scraping against the hardwood flooring. The screeching noise draws the attention of the other students, the muted, ambient murmurs coming to a halt as they turn to you.

Your cheeks immediately flush, the heat of embarrassment crawling from your throat to the tips of your ears. Ducking your head down, you sheepishly smile at the class and mumble out a ‘sorry’. At your apology, the rest of the students quickly turn back to their divinations, causing you to let out a breath of relief. Only for it to hitch when you hear the light tremors of Jimin’s tinkling laugh.

Turning back around, you flick your gaze over Jimin’s face. Dark hair - the colour of blackened pine - frames his face, the strands falling like silk over his head. His locks are parted in the middle today, rather than hanging loosely in front of his forehead, and the front-most tresses bear a slight wave; revealing soft lids and sharp brown eyes. Dressed in his white oxford shirt - his Slytherin robes hung loosely over the backrest - and his sleeves rolled up to the elbow, he looks the epitome of sin. It doesn’t help that his tie is loose around his neck either, the top button of his collar undone and revealing the thick arc of his throat, and the barest hint of his defined collarbones.

He’s lounging in his chair, his ankles crossed as he stretches them under the table. One of his elbows is pressed to the armrest, leaning his chin on the base of his palm, while his other arm is stretched out, long fingers drumming casually on the table. As your gaze roves over him, you can’t help the fuzzy feeling that settles in your stomach as he stares at you - obsidian eyes practically staring into your soul. Easily, he spots the fact that you’re staring at him, and immediately, a teasing smirk pulls at generous lips, his strong eyebrow quirking playfully.

“See something you like, Sweetheart?” he purrs, his sweet voice a few octaves lower as he mimics the sentiment from last night. The memory him dressed in nothing but a towel flashes in your mind: the sight of his muscular, wet body ingrained so deeply in your mind that just the recollection of it manifests itself as something incredibly tangible. A shiver runs down your spine at memory, as well as the deep tremors of his voice, and as the hairs at the back of your neck stand on edge, you duck your head - in a bid to hide your flushing cheeks.

“N-No,” you stutter out, and with the way your voice croaks, your blush deepens. Hearing your stammer, Jimin’s grin widens - his heated gaze roving over you almost predatorily. Responsively, you feel yourself shying from his eyes, your body curling into itself protectively.

Noting your reaction, Jimin lets out an airy laugh. God, you were such a Hufflepuff. He wasn’t one to often believe in the whole ‘students embodied their house traits’ bullshit - after all, people weren’t set into specific personality moulds. But when it came to you? It couldn’t be more true. A Hufflepuff through and through, you’re as hardworking as you are kind - and downright humble about it. It had been an incredible surprise when you’d been chosen as the Head-Girl beside him, most people expecting it to go to Penelope Graham. However, to everyone’s utter shock, it had gone to you instead, your scores in the Apprenticeship second only to himself. A fact that you’d kept to yourself, despite Penelope being one of the brightest Ravenclaws Hogwarts had ever seen, and a stellar Herbology Apprentice.

Thus, your grades, paired with your hard work throughout the years; not to mention your kindness, and willingness to help anyone, had landed you the Head Girl position. A choice that was still a sore subject for Penelope, who would lament about it to anyone and everyone. Nevertheless, if Jimin was being completely honest about it, however, he much preferred you to Penelope. And not just because Penelope didn’t know how to shut her mouth. Even when it was full of his cock. Though, he’d also be lying if he said it wasn’t partially because of that. Really, he didn’t know how she managed to prattle off constantly while still managing to breathe, and sucking his dick. It was almost magic. Pardon the pun.

No, you were a much better fit to him. Your patience was known through the school, and paired with your strong sense of fairness, it meant that most pupils, if not all, would more often approach you for help with their problems. And as a happy result, they’d leave him alone to get on with the more important duties. In fact, that’s exactly how you’d split your workload: you’d handle the student-body and prefects and anything pertaining to people in general, and he’d work on the other more mundane tasks; such as patrol duties, ensuring Prefect rosters for Hogsmeade weekends were sorted and all those odd bits and bobs.

Needless to say, it’s not like Jimin didn’t want to help the students. He doesn’t mindhelping them, and as Head Boy, he’d be duty bound to sort out whatever petty problems they have. He’d just do it begrudgingly, because the last thing he cares about are the frivolous issues of the student body. Really, who cared if Jonah Robins sat at the table Amber Cowen and her friends usually sat at in the library? A problem he knew you’d dealt with just a little over a week ago. Somehow, you’d managed to convince Jonah to leave the girls alone and all balance between the third years had settled. Something which caused Jimin to scoff. See, if it had been him dealing with it, he’d just tell the girls to find another table. Because it’s a table and it didn’t matter where they sat, as long as they did their work.

But that’s just him.

You, on the other hand, had a better sense of justice - and finding out that Jonah had purposely sat at the table to annoy the girls - you’d gotten him to move. Of course, most of the problems presented by the students were of similar nature - and Jimin didn’t understand how you had the tolerance to deal with them day in and day out without going insane. Though, that was just another one of the classic Hufflepuff traits manifesting in your personality. Honestly, he doesn’t think he’s ever met someone more Hufflepuff in his life.

“Uhh… Jimin?” you quietly call out to him, and his eyes widen slightly as he’s broken out of his contemplative reverie. Facial expression relaxing, Jimin realises he must have been intensely scrutinising you for the past couple of minutes - completely lost in his own thoughts.

Eyes casting over your face, he observes you for a moment. You refuse to look at him, your eyes skimming over the room as you actively avoid his gaze. Incessantly, you cross and uncross your legs, your body fidgeting under his heavy stare, and sensing the thick waves of nervousness that exude off of your being, Jimin’s lips twist into a mischievous smirk. And there it was. The one trait of yours that had piqued his attention when he’d first been officially introduced to you three years ago. Your timidness.

“Is something the matter, Princess?” he drawls, a perfectly trimmed eyebrow cocking. Immediately, you freeze, your cheeks heating even further as you pull your bottom lip between your teeth; only to gnaw at it. God, Jimin groans internally, you were so easy to provoke.

“N-No,” you stammer once again.

Lolling his head to the side, and resting his cheek in his palm, Jimin graces you with a sly smile. “Really? You look like you have something on your mind?” Then, flashing his teeth almost devilishly, “Maybe something from last night?” he hums. There’s clear innuendo in his voice, and unintentionally, you let out a little squeak. The sound is high-pitched, and just barely audible as it’s forced from the back of your throat.

“Last night?” Eve asks, her voice curious as she glances between the two of you. The heat of your mortification burns even brighter, so inflamed now that it starts sweltering your skin. Breath caught in your throat, you gnaw even harder on your lips - almost breaking the skin from how much you chew it. What are you going to even tell her? Nonetheless, before you can come up with an excuse, Jimin is already opening up his mouth.

“Just a small mishap in the Potions Apprentice Common Room. It’s none of your business. Shouldn’t you get on with your reading, anyway? I’d like to go back as soon as possible,” he interrupts, drawing Eve’s attention back to her homework. Face scrunching in distaste, she glowers at him.

With a huff, “You’re clearly lying to me. But fine, if you don’t want to tell me that’s your business,” she mutters, a scowl curled on her lips. Then after a short pause, “Also, if you don’t want to be here you don’t have to be. Feel free to leave,” she bites. Jimin discernibly bristles, and sensing his rising indignation - most likely from Eve’s snapping at him - you quickly hold up a hand.

“Why don’t we all just calm down?” you calmly say, smiling gently at both of them. Both Eve and Jimin open their mouths to argue, before closing them; Jimin shrugging his shoulders offhandedly while Eve lets out a deep, conceding breath. Turning to Jimin, your earlier embarrassment slowly ebbs away and you clear your throat, “You don’t have to be here you know. I was the one who offered to help.”

Jimin scoffs in response before waving you off dismissively. “The only reason you offered to help was so that Eve would take up setting up the Yule ball in my place,” he begins.

“Yes, because you have that Wizarding Chess competition you want to go to,” you butt in, causing Jimin to nod.

“Yeah. A competition I could have skipped. But you asked Eve to help you instead, so I could basically shirk my Head Boy duties, and it’s now more work for you,” he explains. Once again, you shake your head.

“It’s not that much work. Besides, I don’t mind. You’ve been talking about this tournament since last year, I know you’ve been looking forward to it,” you cut him off once again. Jimin halts for a moment, simply looking at you, a picture perfect expression of stoicism painted across his face.

Honestly, who were you trying to kid? He knows how much work the Yule ball is, and that while third-year Apprentice’s tend to have more free time (and hence why they now have the Head Boy or Girl position in comparison to seventh year N.E.W.T students), you’ve taken up a few more of the Prefect’s duties, since the seventh year Winter Exams are coming up soon. More than that, with how often students come up to you for help, your official duties tend to get pushed on the backburner even further. Hence why you’d had to brew three potions last night. Once again, he has no idea how you do it. Or why you do it. You’re way too courteous, and far too kind - even to the people you don’t know.

Letting out a sigh, “It is more work. Which is why I’m here. Even if I’m not really helping, I’m going to see it through with you,” Jimin says. Involuntarily, you feel your chest tighten, that telltale warmth flurrying through your stomach as your heart flutters within your chest. Before you can thank him, however, Eve bangs her tarot deck on the table.

“Maybe you’ll let me do a reading for you then?” she asks, her top lip curling shrewdly as she smirks at Jimin. The Slytherin Head Boy simply sneers in response.

Turning his attention back to his open textbook, “Yeah sure. When Merlin rises from the dead,” he snickers under his breath. Then, “Just get on with the reading,” he mutters. Eve’s mouth curls into a snarl, but before the eighth-year Gryffindor can respond, you draw her attention.

“Should we start?” you say, an encouraging smile on your face. Eve’s gaze flicks to behind you, and for a moment, you think she’s going to say something. However, she simply takes a deep breath and calms herself down.

“Alright, yeah,” she says, returning her own apologetic smile. “You don’t want any particular reading, do you?” she asks, and when you shake your head, she smiles. “Then, it’s okay if I pick one?” she questions. This time you nod, and Eve’s smile brightens. “Alright, wonderful! Then… I’m going to do one on love and sex,” she continues. Immediately, you choke on your own spit.

“Eve!” you splutter, causing her to look at you, her eyes glinting mischievously.

“What? I’m almost nineteen, I’m allowed to do them,” she says, her voice laced with faux innocence. Scowling slightly, you send her a pointed look.

“That’s not the point!” you try to argue.

Swiftly, a coy smile creeps onto Eve’s lips, “Oh? Does the prim and proper Head Girl have something to hide?” she sing-songs. Feeling an intense stare on the back of your head, the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. You don’t even need to turn around. You already know Jimin’s attention is on you both once again.

“N-No! It’s just-” you begin, only to deflate. What could you even say? Sensing your defeat, Eve snickers.

“Well, if you don’t, then there’s nothing wrong with me doing one, is there?” she asks. With no way out of the situation, your shoulders fall and you let out a muted noise of concession. “Perfect! Then, I’ll begin,” Eve continues.

With her mind made up, Eve begins to work. She starts by setting up her reading space: placing three candles onto the table. A pink one sits at the top of the table, right in front of you, while a white one sits in the left corner on her side, a purple one on the other. The candles form a large triangle, her tarot deck placed right in front of her, and an incense burner sitting right in the middle of the table. After the candles, she begins by placing her crystals down: rose-quartz and garnet are placed on the corners beside the pink candle on your side, and then an onyx on her side - in another triangular shape. Once she’s set up, she waves her wand - four bottles flying from one of the shelves that lines the classroom and into her hand. From the inky scrawl on the labels, you read them as ‘dried cherries, ‘saffron sprigs’, ‘steeped deer musk’ and ‘jasmine-infused oil’.

Meticulously, she adds the ingredients to her incense pot: exactly four teaspoons of dried cherries, half a sprig of saffron and three drops of the steeped deer musk. Once she’s done, she adds two tablespoons of the jasmine oil, before crushing it all together using a pestle. Once the mixture has formed a smooth paste, she inspects the concoction, before nodding in satisfaction - happy with her handy work. Carefully, you watch her. The eighth year Gryffindor is sly, and witty, and more often than not a handful to deal with. Still, she’s kind, and helpful; and when practising Divination - her favourite subject - there is no one who’s more reverent than her.

Fully prepared to begin her reading, Eve finally closes her eyes, and levelling her breathing, she takes in deep inhale before exhaling shallowly. From your divination class in fourth year, you know that she’s trying to find the centre of her magic. It only takes her a few moments, and then, she opens her eyes. Muttering a few spells under her breath, she points her wand towards the candles, slowly bringing them to life. She starts with the white candle, and then the purple, and finally the pink; and when she’s done, she taps her wand onto the incense burner.

Immediately, the mixture is enkindled, visible puffs of smoke wafting from the paste and into the air. The scent is rich, and fragrant - the notes of jasmine and cherry entwining together in a sweet aroma that has you entranced. The light perfume is deepened by the scent of the saffron and musk; the two heavier notes cutting the floral essence with a darker, more sensuous odour. The incense is inebriating, and calming at the same time, and you find yourself readily wanting to dive deeper into it’s intoxicating hold - let the scent consume you and lull you deep into its grasp.

With her ritual completed, she places her wand down onto the table beside and after a quick shuffle of her deck, she closes her eyes once again. Lips moving subtly, you hear her lowly mutter another spell, and then, she begins pulling the cards. Enraptured by her movements, you watch as she draws exactly five cards, placing them in a pentacle shape around the burner, and in the middle of the triangles of crystals and candles. Her eyes remain closed until she draws the fifth card, and then, eyebrows cinching slightly, she mutters another spell before finally opening her eyes.

Glancing down at the spread, she cocks her eyebrow, a small frown marring her face. The slight perturbation etched on her face has you intrigued, and practically on the edge of your seat, you wait for her to say something. You don’t have to wait long, however, because letting out a surprised whistle, “Well, this is certainly unexpected,” she breathes out.

“It is?” you ask, shuffling to the edge of your seat as you look at the cards closer. Eve hums in response.

“Yeah. The first card - The Hanged Man. You’re in need of urgent release. You’ve become rigid and careful, and there’s a strong need to release your inhibitions,” she begins. Only to pause, “But… you’re indecisive about what you want, and this suspension of your feelings is causing a sense of unhappiness. You need to open yourself emotionally, and more physically,” Eve begins explaining, her manicured nail tapping at the card as she speaks. Hearing her words, you immediately freeze, your muscles locking as Jimin’s face suddenly flashes in the back of your mind.

Oblivious to your shock, Eve continues, her finger moving to the next card, “The Devil. Usually, this card is ominous, and bears a sinister edge; one that most fear. However, in this reading, it’s a symbol of intense hedonism and fervent passion. It’s a card full of lust, an indicator for an intense yearning for a person. There’s a desire to submit; an overwhelming physical urge.” Her voice hangs heavy in the air, and with each word she utters, you feel yourself growing hotter and hotter; your collar suddenly tight. However, you refuse to move. You can’t move. Because you can feel Jimin’s heavy stare behind you, his presence magnified by the sudden silence of the room.

The dull sear of mortification settles in the pit of your stomach, and suddenly, you can feel all the students�� gaze on you. None of them, however, are as intense as Jimin’s; his eyes practically boring into the back of your skull. You want to open your mouth, to tell Eve to stop, lest you embarrass yourself any further. Nonetheless, you simply can’t bring yourself to do it. You don’t know why. Perhaps, it’s because your mouth is suddenly dry, almost as if you’ve swallowed cotton. Perchance it’s because your throat is tight, the muscles suddenly constricting - stifling any words that form in the back of your pharynx.

Or maybe, just maybe, it’s because a small, masochistic part of you is curious: intrigued by what else Eve will say, what else she will reveal… and perhaps even Jimin’s reaction.

“When The Lovers follow The Devil, that’s usually a sign of not only balanced, emotional love, but also physical desire. There’s a need to be touched, to be claimed, and consumed; and an even greater sexual hunger that covets your partner, or the object of your desires. You want to truly submit, with implicit trust and consent, to this person,” Eve’s deep, yet distant, voice continues. Again, however, she pauses - almost as if in thought, and staring intensely at the card, she bites her lips. “This could also be a sign that the person you desire, desires you back,” she mutters.

That has you audibly snorting. Yeah, right. You highly doubt that. For a moment, Eve flicks her gaze to you, her eyebrow quirking in intrigue, and swiftly, you send her an apologetic smile. Shifting in your seat, you sheepishly gesture for her to continue. Eve’s stare falls back to her cards, her hand moving to the fourth, and penultimate card.

“The Tower. The fear that giving into these lustful urges will be your undoing. To give into your desires will be to bring about a change that you aren’t necessarily ready for - or maybe that you think you’re not ready for - since it’ll lead to a significant change in your life. Still, this card is one of extreme surrender to chaos, a surrender that you are refusing, or resisting,” she begins once again.

Then, circling her nail around the card, and tapping - two audible thuds resounding through the air, “Nevertheless, the liberation that comes from giving in is an extraordinary release, even if the act of giving in is terrifying. The Tower is an important card. It is one that cannot and will not be avoided. The major life change must happen. It must be experienced for you to progress in life,” she foretells, her voice almost foreboding.

“Which brings us to the last, and final card. The Ace of Pentacles. This is usually a symbol about fresh career starts. However, in a reading about love, it tends to read as an egg wanting to be fertilised. The ten of pentacles is a family oriented card, but this one is the act of conception; the desire to engage in sex. However, it’s more than just carnal hunger. You want this person; truly and utterly. More than you probably even realise,” and with that last declaration, Eve finishes her reading.

A strong silence befalls the classroom, her last words lingering in the air and echoing in your mind over and over again. For long, drawn out moments, neither of you say anything - you: because you’re caught between mortified and speechless, and Eve: to let you truly grasp and process her words. The few students that straggle about are equally quiet, more than fascinated by the surprising divination. None, however, are more surprised than Jimin.

Unable to tear his eyes from the back of your head, he simply gawks at you. Truth be told, like you, he doesn’t believe in Divination; even with its roots nestled deep within magic, it’s still considered an imprecise school of wizardry. That being said, he can’t help the way your taromency has piqued his interest - especially, considering the fact that it’s a reading based on your love and sexual feelings. At first, he’d been ready to ignore both you and Eve, and happily sink into ‘Moste Potente Potions’ - a book he’d managed to liberate from the Restricted Section, thanks to not only his Head Boy status, but also his Apprenticeship.

However, the moment he’d heard Eve explain the first card, he’d been ensnared by your divination. With each word that had slipped out of Eve’s mouth, he’d grown more and more curious, not to mention shocked - because really, there was no way that that was your reading. Jimin has lived with you for three years now, and he likes to think he knows you well enough.

He knows you well enough to know that, no matter what, you refuse to drink pumpkin juice - finding the drink sickening - and yet, you adore pumpkin pasties; a treat you frequently buy on your trips to Hogsmeade. He knows that you can’t fall asleep at night without reading a book - and that you often read ‘The Tales of Beedle the Bard’, having read them so frequently, in fact, that you could probably recite each story word for word. He knows that you aren’t a huge fan of chocolate, but that every month, for one week, you will inhale it like your life depends on it.

He knows you well enough to know that though friendly by nature, your actual friends are few and far between: choosing to give your trust to a select few individuals. You don’t call people your friends lightly, and it gives him immense joy, and pride, that he’s one of the few people you’ve granted that title. Most importantly, however, Jimin knows that you’re completely, and utterly, inexperienced with men. In the decade you’ve been at Hogwarts, not once have you ever had a boyfriend. He knows because he’s asked around. Purely out of curiosity, of course.

With how much time people spent at Hogwarts, rumours tended to be rampant and everyonehad at one point, had a rumour about them and someone else. Everyone, that is, except for you. At first, Jimin had worried that the two of you wouldn’t get along - that your inherent natures would be the complete opposite and that he’d hate you. After all, he didn’t want to spend his Apprenticeship years hating the only other Apprentice in his year. However, after meeting you in his eighth year for the first time, he’d finally understood why you’d never had any rumours. And that was simply because you spent most, if not all, your time studying.

By all means, it was only exacerbated by your incredibly shy, and timid, nature - especially when boys were concerned; but it was primarily because, you just didn’t seem to think about romance or sex. Which was precisely why he had never really given you a second-thought when it came to spending time with you. Of course, he flirted with you, but it was more playful than anything. Mostly because he enjoyed watching the way you’d get flustered, and how you’d stutter to respond to him. It was incredibly cute, and dare he say, endearing.

Yet, even then, he’d never considered actually pursuing you, and even now, he doesn’t know if he would. You’re complete opposites, and he doubts that you’d even wantanything to do with him - especially since you very clearly knew his reputation. His reputation being that his stable, steady girlfriends are few, and far between. More than that, he’d always dismissed you as someone who’d be into vanilla, missionary sex day in day out; and granted, there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that if that’s what you liked. But the last thing he, Park Jimin, ever would be, is vanilla. Hence, his reasons for dismissing you as a partner early on.

However, that was before today. Now, he’s not so sure. And not being sure is driving him completely wild. Because now, now he wants to know just what you really are like. Just what really makes you tick in bed.

“So, ____, who’s the object of your desires,” Eve’s voice suddenly breaks the silence, her eyebrows wiggling at you. Breaking from his reverie, Jimin immediately hones his attention on the two of you once again. This, he has to know. He doesn’t know why, but he’s suddenly filled with the burning need to know just who you so carnally want to submit to.

“N-No one,” comes your choked reply, and even though he can’t see you, Jimin already knows that your face is flushed with heat. “I-It must be a wrong reading,” you quickly continue, Eve’s eyebrows shooting into her hairline.

Humming in thought, “Hmmm. It’s all open to interpretation ____, so perhaps,” she ponders out loud. A coquettish smile curls onto her face, and levelling you with her impish stare, “Would you like another reading to be sure?” she asks. Swiftly, you shake your head.

“No, it’s pretty late. And Jimin wanted it to be done as soon as possible,” you quickly interject. Ears perking at the sound of his name, Jimin lets out an airy life.

“Oh no, by all means, do continue if you need to. I remembered I have nowhere to be,” he purrs. Despair floods your stomach at his words, and internally you scowl. He had to choose now to be genial? Really?

“See, Jimin doesn’t mind,” Eve snickers. Letting out a little huff, you quickly get up from your chair and begin gathering your things.

“Still, it is late - almost curfew in fact. You should all start getting to your dorms,” you reply, your voice louder so the rest of the students hanging in the class could hear. A chorus of groans resonate through the air, but nevertheless, they begin packing up their own divination items.

“Spoil sport,” Eve mutters under her breath, however, there’s no real heat to her words; and like everyone else, she too begins clearing the table. As she waves her wand, the bottles, candles and crystals flying back to their original places, “Are you sure you can’t let me do another reading? It would really help,” she asks.

With a sigh, you shake your head, “I’m sorry, I have Head Girl patrol duties tonight, and I still need to get back to the dorms and shower,” you respond.

Behind you, Jimin immediately freezes, his book partially in his bag as he himself gets ready to leave. Now, that’s interesting. Glancing at you from the corner of his eye, he casts his gaze over your body. A lie. A very clear lie - but a good one - because only he would have known it’s a lie. You don’t have Head Girl patrol duties tonight, you know that, and he knows that. Why? Well, because he’s the one who comes up with the patrolling schedules - and you definitely don’t have any tonight. Which begs the question, why are you lying?

Naturally, it could be because you don’t want a second reading, but Jimin has known you three years now, and it’s not often that you refuse to help. Moreover, it’s also not often that you lie - which only has his intrigue growing. Just what were you up to? Not that you do have to be up to something, you really could just not want to have a second reading, and usually, Jimin would happily accept that reading. If it weren’t for the niggling feeling in his gut that it’s something more, and if there’s one thing Park Jimin does, it’s trust his gut feeling.

Hearing your explanation, Eve swiftly deflates. “Alright, that’s fair enough. Still, thank you though. I’m sure Trelawney is going to love this,” she grins. Though, that only has sheer mortification rippling through you. Because really, the last thing you want, is Trelawney hearing about your deepest, darkest feelings. A part of you wants to ask Eve not to use it, however, she’s promised to leave your name out of it, and knowing Trelawney, she’ll barely even pay any attention to it - both facts quickly settling your embarrassment.

“You’re welcome,” you respond with a nod as you gather your bag. Then, turning to Jimin, you tersely smile at him, and, “Ready to go?” you ask - your eyes flicking from his to the space behind him, as if you’re avoiding his gaze.

Momentarily, he looks at you, but no matter how long he stares, you refuse to maintain eye contact. The peculiarity of your actions only has his curiosity growing more aroused. Internally making up his mind to get to the bottom of your behaviour, “Yeah, let’s go,” he simply responds.

It’s later that very same night, when Jimin finds himself up well past moonrise. Usually, by now, he’d long since be in the comfort of his bed, enjoying the privacy of his own dorm. Or he’d be sneaking into the room of another apprentice. Today, however, he finds himself waiting in the Potions Apprentice common room; nestled on one of the plush velvet armchairs that makes its home by the hearth. Weak flames lick at the scorched wood, the fire waning as it slowly dies out. It bathes the darkened room in a dim light, and despite his position right beside the fireplace, the shadows hide his body well enough.

Internally, he wonders how long he has to wait for you to make a move, for you to sneak outside the common room and towards wherever it was that you wanted to disappear for the night. Really, he doesn’t know why he cares so much, and normally, he wouldn’t; you’re a grown woman after all, and you’re more than welcome to your secrets. Which is what he’d say if you were anyone else. But you’re not. You’re ____ Graves. The same ____ Graves he’s lived with for the past three years, and the last thing you have are secrets. Realistically speaking, he should probably give up and head to bed, because really, why did it matter what you got up to late into the night. However, ever since hearing you so easily lie to Eve, he simply can’t get out the incessant need to find out what you were hiding.

That is, if you are hiding anything. Because really, the later it gets, the more he finds himself wondering if he’s deluded himself into believing that you had secrets in the first place.

Mentally, he wonders if he should just head up to bed. It’s way past curfew, and you don’t seem to have emerged outside of your private bedroom; the rest of the Potions Apprentices having all retired for the night long ago. As he sits in the armchair, he contemplates his decision. It’s nearing midnight now, and you still haven’t so much as moved, and he’s really starting to believe that perhaps you’ve already retired for the night. Just as he shifts, however, he hears a door creak causing him to freeze immediately.

Head snapping to the stairs that lead towards the bedrooms, he watches as you slowly creep out of your bedroom and down the stairs. The common room is dark: the only light source the dwindling flames of the fireplace, and the faint, overcast shafts of moonlight that filter through the still waters of the Black Lake; and as a result, your wand is lit up - the eerie blue-tinted light of the ‘Lumos’ spell guiding your way through the space. Hidden by the shadows of the corner he finds himself in, Jimin’s breath hitches as you carefully tiptoe past him.

To his absolute luck, however, you don’t notice him. Instead, you simply slip out of the portrait that guards the Potions Apprentice Quarters. Jimin waits a couple moments for you to get far enough from the entrance before swiftly following you out. As soon as he slips through the portrait, he sees your frame disappear behind one of the corners, and hastily, he casts a disillusionment charm onto himself, followed by a ‘Muffliato’, before he begins tailing you.

It’s late after curfew, and as a result, the corridors are completely deserted. Iron sconces hang high up the beige brick walls and the flickering amber light illuminates the large, arched halls of the castle. Expertly, you navigate through the maze-like hallways, and with how purposely you move - your feet directing you down a specific route - Jimin knows you’re not out for Head Girl patrol duties. Albeit, he’d already known that. Though, this simply confirms his suspicions.

The entire journey, Jimin keeps a steady distance from you - close enough to keep you in his line of view, yet far enough that you won’t feel his presence. You lead him down twisting and turning corridors, and up towards the Grand Staircase. Realising that you’re planning on moving to a different floor, Jimin quickly moves closer towards you, still staying far enough for him to remain undetected, while keeping up with you as you navigate the ever-changing staircases. He doesn’t know how long he follows you, but around ten minutes later, you slow down your pace.

A look of surprise flits across Jimin’s face as he looks around. From the looks of it, you’re both on the seventh floor, in the left corridor. Though, he has no idea whyyou’ve come here. This area of Hogwarts is barely used. There are no classrooms in this corridor - it’s essentially a large stretch of hallway. Despite this obvious fact, however, Jimin watches as you walk down the passage, stopping when you get to a large tapestry. Quietly coming up beside you, he looks at the moving depiction in confusion.

Trolls dressed in ballet tutus are illustrated on the large curtain, their green-skinned body fanned out in various positions as they dance about with large clubs held in their giant hands. In the middle of the cluster, is a man, dressed in medieval-esque clothing, two of the trolls hitting him with their weapons intermittently. Suddenly, recognition dawns within him. It’s the attempt of Barnabas the Barmy to teach the trolls ballet. Enraptured by the odd, mobile tapestry, Jimin doesn’t notice you move - not until he watches a large, ornate wooden door manifest itself into the castle’s wall.

Eyes widening, he takes a step back - the sudden appearance of the entrance surprising him. He doesn’t have long to collect himself, however, because without a moment’s hesitation, you’re opening the door and entering it. Not wanting to waste the opportunity, Jimin hastily slips into the room after you - the door shutting behind him with a quiet thud. As soon as he steps inside, however, he pauses - not expecting the sight to greet him.

The room is large, yet completely barren. Marble arches and pillars line the perimeter of the room; plush carpet, the colour of beige, lines the entire floor - and even through the soles of his Dragonhide boots, he can feel how soft it is. There’s only one piece of furniture that sits inside the odd space - a large mirror. With clawed feet, and an ornate frame that has faded into a dull, metallic shade of gold with time, it looks ancient; and wholly mysterious. There’s even a strange inscription in the framework, in a language he can’t quite decipher, but one that seems familiar at the same time.

Nonetheless, Jimin doesn’t have much time to contemplate the peculiarity of it all, because all of a sudden, you’re moving. Drawing his attention once again, he watches you step up to the mirror, looking into the reflective glass intensely. The entire occurrence is strange, because it’s just a mirror, and yet you watch it so curiously, so intensively, that he wonders just what you’re looking at. And then, for a second time that day, he has an epiphany. He knows this mirror. Or well, more specifically he’s read of it.

It’s the Mirror of Erised - the one that shows you what your heart desires the most.

Now even more curious, Jimin’s head tilts to the side as he looks at you, his face a picture of curiosity. Soon, however, it morphs into shock. Because, completely out of the blue, you start stripping.

Febrile skin flushed with desire, you stare into the Mirror of Erised. The sight that greets you is no surprise to you, at least not anymore. You see, the first time you’d stumbled upon the Room of Requirement, had been this summer, towards the end of your ninth year. Back then, you’d just been a prefect, and on one of your nightly patrols, you’d stumbled across strange noises coming from one of the abandoned classrooms on the seventh floor; and being the principled prefect you were, you’d instantly investigated. The sight that had greeted you, had shocked you to the core.

You had expected lots of things behind the classroom door. Perhaps it was Peeves, causing a ruckus as he usually does. Or perchance Filch doing his own rounds. Or maybe, just maybe, it was two students out past curfew. However, the last thing you’d expected was to see Penelope Graham, the second-year herbology Apprentice, bent over a table as Park Jimin thrust into her from behind. Her uniform had been in a state of dishevelment, her shirt wide open and her bra pulled under to reveal her breasts. The most surprising thing, however, had been the fact that her hands were tied up, and her panties stuffed into her mouth as Jimin harshly moved behind her.

Suffice to say, the entire scene had been such a shock, and way more than you’d expected to find behind the classroom door. More than that, you couldn’t bring yourself to break them up, your own timidness getting the better of you. As a result, you’d quickly turned around and ran away - racing to the opposite end of the seventh floor - only to find yourself in the empty left corridor, right by the large tapestry that depicted Barnabas the Barmy and the trolls. You can still remember your embarrassment, the sight of Jimin roughly fucking Penelope burned into the back of your mind. As you contemplated what you’d stumbled across; pacing back and forth in front of the tapestry, you’d accidentally come across the Room of Requirement.

The randomly-appearing door had surprised you. You’d heard of its existence of course, from your cousin, Sybil Lovegood, but you’d never gone looking for it. Curious about what the room had manifested for you, and needing to recuperate from what you’d just witnessed, you’d entered - just to discover the empty room, and the Mirror of Erised. What you’d spotted in the reflection, your heart’s greatest desire, a few months ago had completely shocked you.

Because depicted in the magic glass, is you - your body naked and bound - as Jimin fucks you, just as roughly as he did Penelope. Or perhaps, even rougher.

Shaken by the discovery, you’d swiftly left the room. Only to return the next day. And the weekend after. And then the week after. However, then you’d broken up for holidays, and in your tenth year so far, you’d been too busy with head duties to return. By all means, you’ve spent many nights laying in bed, with fantasies of Jimin sweeping through your head as you lose yourself in your own pleasure. However, your fantasies could never compare to what the mirror showed. Though, the real deal probably couldn’t compare to this either, but what could you do? You doubt Jimin would actually ever fuck you; that is, if his adversity to flirting with you was any indication.

Tonight is the first night you’ve returned in a while, prompted by Eve’s tarot reading, and eyes darkening with hunger, you watch your reflection’s face twist with lewd pleasure; Jimin’s intense, domineering gaze levelled on you. Molten lust pools between your thighs, your stomach twisting with the desirous heat of hunger as your core trembles. Your gaze trails down the body of your mirror-image, settling on your core, and almost as if he knew, mirror-Jimin lifts your reflection’s leg up - allowing you a better view of her swollen, sodden cunt.

A low whimper resounds through the still room, your voice breaking the quiet. All of a sudden, the heat that sears your body is too much, causing you to grip your wand tighter, and vanish almost all your clothes with a simple spell - purposely leaving your skirt on. Cool air brushes against your heated sex, and a low mewl falls from your lips at the sensation, your thighs spreading a little further. Without wasting a single moment, you slip your hand between the apex of your legs, merely to cry out in pleasure when your fingers brush your throbbing bud.

Knees buckling at the pleasure, you tentatively stroke your clit, your breath turning laboured as ripples of ecstasy course through you. Nonetheless, it’s not enough, and you have no doubt that this position is soon going to get uncomfortable. Thus, without wasting another moment, you carefully drop to your knees before sitting on your ass. Bending your knees, you draw your thighs closer to your body, before spreading them wide open. Able to access your bare folds more freely, one of your hand dips between your legs: a single finger trailing through your dewy slit.

You run the digit through your sex a couple of times, and once the pad of your finger is coated in a thin film of your own wetness, you press it to your clit once again; slicking the bud under your ministrations. In the mirror-reflection, Jimin mumbles something indiscernible into your mirror-self, and you watch as her cheeks tinge with heat, but as usual, does as he says. Her hand winds down towards her spread thighs, only to splay her cunt wide open. Then, in one smooth motion, Jimin spears his cock into her - impaling the entire length into her dripping pussy.

Sucking in a sharp breath, you responsively dip a finger into your own honeyed entrance. The rings of muscle are tight, and firm, but slippery with your arousal, you manage to slip a single digit into yourself. Steadily, you push your finger into you. It’s fairly short, and girthy, and yet, there’s still a pleasurable ache to the intrusion - your inner walls rippling around the digit. You push it in as far as you can before crooking it at the knuckle. Promptly, you feel your body shake - your nail inadvertently dragging against your sweet-spot.

For a moment, your eyes blur at the euphoria, your eyes threatening to shut. Nonetheless, you forcibly keep them open - your gaze focused on the way mirror-Jimin begins surging into your reflection, your entire body bouncing from his rough thrusts. Imitating his actions, you begin plunging your finger into your silken depths - the movement causing the pad of your digit to drag against the erogenous spot inside of you repetitively. With each stroke, you feel the pleasure inside your stomach intensify, morphing from a dull ache into a maddening burn.

Nestled in the shadows, Jimin’s jaw drops at the lewd sight of you. When he’d decided to follow you tonight, this was the last thing he had expected. At first, he’d meant to announce his presence - question just what you’d been staring at. However, before he could say anything, your clothes had suddenly been divested off of your body - flying into the air before folding neatly onto a pile on the floor. Tongue-tied by the action, his jaw had dropped, and he’d been rendered speechless - because really, why would he have expected you to suddenly strip to just your skirt?

Nonetheless, his astonishment set aside, Jimin can’t help but feel his skin heat as he watches you - his cock twitching to life in the confines of his trousers. He still has no idea what it is you’re seeing, but still, the sight of your legs spread wide, and your hands buried between your thighs is incredibly hot. From his position, he can’t see you in full - your skirt partially covering your sex - and with only his imagination to go off of, his mind runs wild. He wonders just what your cunt looks like as you pleasure yourself: does your clit throb? Are you soaked beyond belief - strings of your arousal leaking down your ass? Does that little cunt of yours tremble around your fingers?

Each question has waves of hunger washing through him, and with each thought, hot lust bubbles through his veins. Desperately he wishes to find out the answers - to remove your hand and push your skirt up - only to bury his face between your thighs. He wonders how you look amidst an orgasm, and the type of sounds you make; the type of sounds your cunt makes. Even so, even with his urgent desire overtaking him, he knows he can’t. He enjoys being your friend - a hard title to come by - and this would cross a boundary he’d initially been hesitant to cross; especially since you’d never shown interest in him, or any other boy for that matter. More than that, however, he figures he should leave you to your own privacy - having voyeuristically watched you for long enough.

However, just as he’s about to turn on his heel and exit, a sudden cry of pleasure tears from your throat - louder than any other that has spilled from your mouth. All of a sudden, you jerk, and your free hand darts out behind you: the palm dragging against the ground as you brace your entire body. Your back twists, the motion pushing your chest further into the air - drawing his attention to them - just for it to move to the way your thighs begin trembling. Holy fuck. Were you about to cum? Merlin, he reallyneeds to get out of here.

“J-Jimin,” you suddenly whimper and Jimin stops short - the muscles of his entire body locking. Did you… had you just…?

Breath catching in his throat, Jimin strains his ears; focusing his entire attention on you. It couldn’t be. There was no way you’d just said his name. His mind was obviously playing tricks on him. Swiftly, he dismisses the sound. Until, “Oh… Jimin,” you moan. It’s louder this time, and clearly - so discernible, in fact, that it resonates through Jimin’s ears.

Turbulent eyes roving over you, and once he’s confirmed that it is indeed his name, a smirk curls onto Jimin’s plump lips. His cock strains inside his boxers, the hardened member straining against the tightness of his trousers as it begs to bury itself inside of you. A surprising reaction, considering he’d never seen you in that way before - then again, how was he not supposed to want you, after learning that your heart’s desire, is him. Suddenly, Eve’s voice echoes through his mind, and recognition dawns inside of him. He’s the man from the divination - the one you truly want to submit to; the one you so desperately yearn for. Immediately, the smirk on Jimin’s face twists further, pulling into a large, predatory grin.

Well, who was he to deny you your deepest wish?

Stalking closer towards you, Jimin waves his wand discreetly - ending both the charms that hide him from your view. However, so lost in your own pleasure, your focus concentrated on whatever it is you see in the mirror, you don’t notice him. Closer to you now, your soft mewls and whimpers are louder - the sounds practically music to his ear - and this time, when you call out his name, “Need something, Princess?” he purrs in answer.

Instantaneously, you freeze. Every single one of your muscles locks at the sound, your lust dissipating as dread settles in your stomach. Head snapping up, you finally notice Jimin’s reflection in the mirror, and blinking blankly, you slowly realise it’s the real Jimin. Swiftly, you shut your legs, the movement locking your hands between, as you stare at him wide eyed.

Mortification surging through you, “J-Jimin,” you stammer out.

“Oh, Sweetheart, don’t stop on my account. I was quite enjoying the show.” His eyes flash with mischief, his gaze dropping towards your legs perceptibly, before locking back onto yours.

“I-I can e-explain,” you stammer out.

Jimin simply hums in response. “Oh? I think I have a pretty good grasp of the situation, Kitten,” comes his rumbling voice - the husky warbles reverberating through the air and directly to your core. Inhaling sharply, your eyes widen imperceptibly. Kitten. That’s a new one. More than that, the pet name drips from his lips like viscous honey, laced with a promise of lust-filled sin.

Deliberately, he stalks around you, your eyes following him - as if transfixed - until he’s directly in front of you, just beside the mirror. With your positioning - his broad body towering over you - your face to crotch with him, and quickly, you spot the prominent bulge of his cock. Throat tightening, you swallow thickly - your mouth suddenly dry. Jimin spots your gaze easily, causing him to chuckle.

“Eyes up on me, Kitten,” Jimin purrs, and almost as if you’re trained to obey, you follow his command; albeit, reluctantly.

Forcibly tearing your eyes from his covered manhood, you level your gaze onto him once again. He stands above you, fully clothed; waves of powerful dominance seeping off of his entire demeanour. Meanwhile you’re next to naked - with your hand still buried into your cunt - and as a result, you can’t help the ripples of humiliation that strum through you; your core reflexively clenching. Against your will, a wanton whimper escapes your mouth, your cheeks tinging darker with the heat of embarrassment. From the way Jimin’s eyes twinkle, you know he’s heard you.

“It looks to me like you’ve been playing with that little cunt of yours to thoughts of me, am I right?” he teases, and pulling your bottom lip between your teeth, you tentatively nod. Jimin hums once again, his head cocking to the side as he regards you coolly. Under his intense gaze, you feel completely exposed - his heavy stare roving over your entire body as he scrutinises you.

Then, his eyes landing on your skirt, Jimin lets out a low, taunting coo. “Is that pretty pussy wet, Princess? Does your cunt ache to be filled by my cock?” he asks. The vulgarity of his words doesn’t surprise you, you always had a feeling Jimin had a filthy tongue on him, and reflexively, you nod once again. Under his teasing words, you feel yourself grow wet, your lust-filled desire mingling with the humiliation that flutters through you.

Surreptitiously, your hand begins moving, the digit still buried inside you flexing as you slowly plunge it into you. The movement is imperceptible, and near non-existent, but somehow, Jimin still spots it. With a chuckle, “Is this turning you on, Sweetheart?” he coos. Mouth still dry, it’s all you can do to nod. However, Jimin’s eyes simply narrow into slits, and, “Articulate,” he hisses.

“Y-Yes,” you force out obediently, your finger moving even faster. Jimin coos tenderly, his lips curling into a wry sneer.

“Of course it is, Kitten,” he coos. Then, gesturing his head towards your hand, “But is your hand enough? Wouldn’t you like the real thing? Wouldn’t you rather have my cock?” he asks, a playful lilt to his voice.

You don’t even have to contemplate your answer, because immediately, “Please,” you whimper.

“Please what?” he hisses, and realising he’s going to force you to say it, you inhale a deep, steadying breath.

“J-Jimin,” you stutter out in an attempted protest.

“I want to hear you say it. I want you to beg with that pretty, innocent little mouth of yours,” Jimin purrs, his eyes darkening with dominance as he watches you.

Brushing your humiliation to the side, you take in a deep, steadying breath. “P-Please g-g-give me y-your cock,” you stutter out whilst imploringly staring at him through the thick of your lashes.

Immediately, a roguish grin crawls onto Jimin’s lips, and chest purring in approval, he walks around you - the heels of his expensive Dragonhide shoes clicking against the ground - before he settles behind your body. His long legs splay on either side of you, the limbs bent at the knee: effectively caging you between his figure. The strong muscles of his chest press flat against your naked back, and involuntarily, you shiver - his warmth seeping into your skin.

Hands moving to loosely rest on either of your thighs, the cold metal of his ring making you gasp as it presses against your febrile flesh, “Spread your legs,” he orders. The sound rumbles against your back, and for a moment you hesitate - the tips of your ears burning in humiliation. Nonetheless, you do as he says: tentatively splaying your legs open once again. Jimin watches your reflection in the glass, his eyes dropping to the apex of your spread thighs. Material of your skirt falling between, it obstructs his view of your cunt, causing him to let out a low tremor of disapproval.

Angling his head to the side, he brushes his lips against the outer shell of your ear, before taking the topmost part between his teeth and biting down softly. The sudden action causes you to let out a soft whimper, and you both see, and feel, Jimin’s lips twist into a sardonic smile. Lightly nibbling on the cartilage, his hands indolently trail further up your thighs, causing your eyes to flutter at the sensation. Just when he gets to the soft flesh of the top of your inner thighs, however, Jimin suddenly stops.

“Lift up your skirt, Princess. Show me the way that cunt drips for me,” comes his command. The intonation of his voice is low, a slight rasp underlying it, and reflexively, goosebumps prickle at your skin.

You suck in a sharp breath, and with shaky hands, do as he says. Gripping the hem of your skirt, you hesitantly lift it up - both your eyes glued onto the mirror - where you watch the way you slowly expose your sodden cunt. The moment your bare sex meets his gaze, Jimin lets out a pained groan. Swollen with need, the flesh of your sex is puffy - your clit visibly throbbing as a thick sheen of your wetness coats your skin. Pools of arousal gather around your entrance, the ring of muscles trembling under his heavy gaze, causing thin rivulets of slick to trail down the seam of your ass.

“Oh? You’re fucking drenched. What is it that you see in the mirror, that has you leaking like this? You’re practically creating a puddle,” he chuckles, a dark, taunting inflexion cutting his sweet voice.

A near inaudible whimper falls from your lips, and when you don’t respond, Jimin bites your ear harshly. Soft stings of pain strum through you, and, “Y-You,” you cry out in response, your cunt clenching visibly.

Watching the way the ringed muscles contract, “Oh? Just me?” Jimin chuckles darkly. You shake your head in response.

“N-No… us,” you reply. Fingers flexing, he begins softly massaging your thighs: kneading the supple flesh under his deft digits.

“Tell me.”

“W-What?” you ask, shock evident in your eyes. Tongue flicking out, Jimin licks the outline of your ear, only to brush his lips against the shell.

“Tell me what you see,” he elaborates. Thick waves of hesitation exude off of you at the command. There was no way - absolute none - that you could describe the vulgar scene, born from your deepest fantasies, and depicted in the magical surface.

Sensing your trepidation, Jimin’s face softens, and he buries his face into the side of your head. Lips pursing, he places a tender kiss to your hair. “We can stop if you want, or if it’s too much,” he mumbles; his hands soothingly rubbing your thighs. Your heart flutters at his concern, and you shake your head quickly.

“I-I’ve just… never done something like this,” you begin, your voice coming out as a whisper. Internally, you cringe at the timidness of it. It’s not that you don’t want to fuck Jimin. You do. Desperately. It’s just, you’re not used to it - to having someone see this side of you - and the idea of revealing it to Jimin, the object of most of your lascivious fantasies, is more than just a little daunting.

Awareness crossing his face, Jimin nods, and you watch in despair as his eyes turn tender - a stark contrast from the heavy dominance that had just twinkled within them. “We can go slow… I’ll be gentle,” he offers.

“No!” you instantly object, Jimin’s eyes widening at the sudden protest. Realising how loud you’d been, you quickly curl into yourself and avert your gaze. Throat tight, you swallow thickly; and gathering your courage, “I- I don’t want gentle. I- I want you to be rough. I want you to fuck me,” you confess, A few pauses break your sentences as you force yourself to be honest with him, however, once the words are out, you feel a sense of relief flood through you.

Jimin sucks in a sharp breath, and against the curve of your ass, you feel his hardened cock throb. “Are you sure?” he asks, his eyes searching yours. This time, when you nod, there’s not a semblance of hesitancy.

Bolstered by your sudden courage, “I want you to fuck me as hard as you can. I want you to dominate me, and make me cry,” comes your sudden declaration. The hands on your thighs flex, Jimin gripping the flesh almost painfully.

“Fuck.” He takes a deep breath, and then exhales just as deep. “Are you sure that’s what you want?” he asks once again.

Unwavering, “Yes.” Then, “Please,” you add - practically begging him now.

“Pick a safe word.”

Surprised by his words, “W-what?” you dumbly ask, causing him to smile at you genially.

“You’re a virgin aren’t you?” he asks; his tone is passive, almost kind, and not mocking at all; yet, you still find yourself growing embarrassed as you nod in response. Pressing another kiss to your head, “Then pick a safe word you can use if things are getting too intense and you need to stop,” he continues.

“Oh. Um… Mallowsweet,” you blurt out after a short deliberation.

The instant the word slips from your mouth, Jimin lets out an amused exhale, and you feel his lips curl in bemusement. “Mallowsweet? Really? The first thing you thought of was a potion ingredient?” he asks, causing you to pout.

“Safe words have to be something you won’t normally say during sex,” you mumble, and once again, Jimin laughs.

“You’ve got me there. Alright, Mallowsweet it is,” he nods. Then, after a short pause, “Don’t hesitate to use it, okay?” he continues. You don’t say anything, simply nodding firmly. Happy with your assurance, “Good girl. Now, tell me what you see,” he praises, only to follow the sentiment with a command.

A ripple of excitement courses through you at the heavy authority that laces his voice once again; his eyes dark with domineering hunger as he practically scrutinises you. Attention returning to the mirror, your breath catches in your throat at the sight that greets you. Your reflection selves have changed positions, now almost perfectly imitating the two of you. Cradled in mirror-Jimin’s embrace, your counterpart has her legs spread wide, and her lips spread even more lewdly - her own digits splaying them apart - as Jimin fucks his thick fingers into her drenched heat.

When you don’t say anything, your attention instead focused on the erotic scene depicted in the magical surface, you suddenly hear a loud slap echo through the air. All of a sudden, a sharp sting of pain flares across your thigh, and you hiss when you feel Jimin spank your flesh.

“I gave you an order, Princess. I expect you to obey,” Jimin spits, his voice hissing against your ear.

“Ah- I’m- I’m spreading my own…” you begin, only for your own mortification to pause.

“Your own?” Jimin prompts, a smirk curling onto his face at your clear embarrassment.

Letting out a whine, “V-vagina,” you choke out with a stammer. Immediately, Jimin brings his hand down onto your thigh, a sharp slap resounding through the air.

A low cry slips through your lips and, “Cunt,” Jimin hisses.

“W-What?”

“Cunt. You’ll call it your cunt, or your pussy. Do you understand?” he responds, causing you to nod your head. “Good girl. Now, continue,” he urges, his hand delicately massaging your thigh as he soothes the flesh he’d spanked.

Cheeks burning, “I-I’m spreading my own c-cunt,” you whisper. A jolt of ravenous hunger sparks through Jimin as he hears the vulgar word slip from your lips and he lets out a low, pained groan. He’d ordered you to say it, and yet, it somehow sounded even sweeter, even more sinful as it drips from your mouth.

“Are you now? Show me how,” comes his next order. Shuddering at his breathy voice, and thick ripples of pleasure coursing through you, you do as he says.

One of your hands uncurls itself from the material of your skirt, the other hiking the fabric higher up your body. Next, using your now free hand, you press two of your trembling fingers on either side of your cunt, before spreading them in a ‘V’ shape. Under the ministration, you both feel, and watch, as your slick folds are pulled apart - revealing even more of your bare sex to Jimin’s gaze. Seeing the way your flesh peels open, Jimin lets out a strained groan.

“Fuck. Look at you. Dirty fucking slut,” he spits, and hearing his words, the walls of your cunt automatically clench. With the way your pussy is bared for Jimin, he easily spots the movement, causing him to chuckle. With another spank on your thigh, “Do you like that, Princess? Do you like the way I call you a slut?” he taunts. Fist curling tighter into the cotton fabric of your skirt, you nod shyly. Jimin’s hand splays further down your thigh before he begins drawing slow, teasing shapes into your flesh.

A shudder runs down your spine at his actions. In their new position, his fingers are impossibly close to your cunt - so close, in fact, that you’re sure he can feel the intense heat radiating from your sex. Deliberately, however, he keeps them away from where you need them most, and under his ministrations, you slowly feel your body temperature rise; the ache in your pussy intensifying tenfold. One finger moves awfully close to the flesh of your nether lips, and each time he draws an indiscernible shape, the bone of his knuckle grazes your clit.

“Do you want me to keep calling you a slut?” he taunts, and eagerly, you nod your head, a wanton whine slipping through your throat. “Then beg,” he hisses.

With a whimper, “P-Please degrade me,” you moan.

“Merlin, you’re such a fucking whore. Who would have thought that the innocent, shy Head Girl was such a desperate, needy little slut?” Jimin questions, and hearing the blatant derision in his voice, your stomach flips with humiliation. Then, pressing his lips to your ear, Jimin moves his hand to purposely graze your cunt. “I’m going to fucking ruin you,” he groans, his eyes swirling with dark lust. Then, he gestures back to the mirror.

Already knowing what he wants, you take in another breath. “Y-You’re f-fingering my p-pussy as I s-spread my c-cunt,” you stutter out, your ears burning at the crude words.

“Like this?” he teasingly asks. Inhaling sharply, your eyes flutter as you feel his middle finger teasingly caress your dewy folds: the pad of the digit tracing down your swollen lips. You nod your head.

“Y-You’ve got t-two fingers in me. T-Thrusting them as you f-fuck my cunt,” you continue. Finger moving further down, Jimin runs the tip of his nail around the quivering, ringed outline of your cunt.

“Fuck. Such a pretty, needy, pussy. See how it trembles for me?” he asks. It’s rhetorical. You know it is, because the next thing he’s doing, is plunging his finger into you.

A high-pitched moan spills from your lips, your back arching as your head falls onto his muscular shoulder. He stops once he’s knuckle deep, and curling his finger, “I’m going to fuck this tight, unused little cunt, Princess,” he continues. The cold metal and cut gemstones of his heirloom ring presses against the sodden, heated flesh of your cunt. The band is incredibly thick, the maddening girth threatening to plunge into you as it presses against your entrance.

Nonetheless, Jimin stops. Instead, he languidly pulls his finger out, before abruptly plunging it back inside. Heavy moans elicited from your throat, your cunt spasms as you feel his ring press against your ringed muscles once again. Thrusting the crooked finger in and out of you, he indolently tests the pliance of your inner walls; relishing in the resistance he feels. “By Morgana, you’re so fucking tight. Such a tiny, little hole…” In a deliberate motion, he pulls his finger out - so slow, that you can feel every ridge of his knuckles as it retreats out of you.

As he holds up his finger, your eyes widen at the sight. The entire length of his digit is coated in a thick sheen of your wetness; filmy strings trickling towards his palm. The glint of his ring catches the low lighting, the shine only highlighted by your arousal. Jimin lets out a baritone chuckle, “So fucking wet too. You drip like such a slut.” His hand moves back down to your cunt, and stroking up the slit, you whimper the pad of his finger brushes your throbbing clit, the wet bud slickening under his ministrations.

“I’m going to make you cum so much that all you can think about is the way my fingers, or tongue, or cock feel inside of you,” he murmurs. The intonation of his voice is heavy, with an intentional husk to it, that has you whining in need. With each word, he tantalisingly circles your engorged bundle of nerves. His touch is feathery, virtually non-existent, and the tormenting motions has your core burning with need; the muscles of your thighs twitching intermittently.

“Mmmm, yes. By the time I’m done with you, you’re going to be a cock-hungry little bitch, begging me to fuck you like the cumslut you are.” All of a sudden, he presses his digit down onto your clit before rolling it in hard, tight circles.

Abruptly, “Ah- Please,” you cry, your thighs beginning to tremble on either side of Jimin’s. Between his filthy words, his purposeful taunting ministrations, and your own, previous ministrations, you swiftly feel the telltale fog of euphoria cloud your mind.

Jimin dips his head into the crook of your neck, and watching your body through the glass of the mirror, he stares darkly at your figure. You’re completely wired: eyes-half lidded and clouded with lust while your mouth is parted - breathless shallow gasps slipping from your throat. With each stroke of his finger against your clit, he watches your entrance responsively clench - forcing thick streams of your essence out of your honeyed hole and down your ass.

“Are you close, Kitten? Are you going to cum from just having me tease this needy clit?” he taunts, his breath fanning across the flesh of your neck. Throat tight with desire, it’s all you can do to nod your head. Pleasure burns in your abdomen, your skin flushing with heat. Still, Jimin continues his ministrations - pulling you closer and closer towards the brink of your orgasm. “Fuck, yeah you are. Merlin, you’re so sensitive... Tell me something Princess, no one’s played with you like this, have they?” he asks.

Pulling your lip between your teeth, you shake your head once again - too tongue-tied by pleasure to speak. Plump lips wrap around your flesh, and flicking out his tongue, Jimin begins peppering hot, open-mouths kisses along the column of your throat. Teeth grazing against your sensitive skin, “No. They haven’t. I’m the first to see you like this, aren’t I? The first to touch this pretty cunt, and watch you drip for me,” he murmurs. The reverberations of his voice thrum along your throat, causing you to buck into his hand.

“I’m the first person who’s going to make you cum, Princess,” he whispers. Then, without a warning, he takes your clit between the knuckle of his forefinger and his thumb, and twisting, he pinches the bud. Simultaneously, Jimin sucks your flesh into his mouth, before biting down harshly. The abrupt pain has you crying out, your thighs shaking harder as you feel yourself teeter over the precipice of your climax. Before it can come, however, “But not yet,” Jimin growls before pulling away.

“N-No,” you cry out, tears misting your eyes as you feel your impending orgasm begin to fade. Thoughtlessly, you pull your hand away from where it’s spreading your cunt, and instead, you grab Jimin’s wrist; attempting to pull it back.

Swiftly, Jimin brings his hand down onto your cunt - harshly. A sharp, wet, smack resounds through the air as his fingers impact your swollen flesh. Under the ministration, you feel your clit smart: ripples of pain and pleasure thrumming along your nerves and setting your veins afire. Biting down on your flesh once again, “You’ll cum when I want you to cum, slut. Until then, be patient,” he hisses. A whimper slips from your throat, and you nod before letting go of his hand. Purring in approval at your obedience, Jimin’s tongue roves over your throat, soothing the tender flesh he’d harshly bitten down on.

“Spread your cunt for me again, Princess,” he orders, causing your fingers to fall back to your lips as you pull them apart. Jimin rewards your actions with soft kisses, his plush lips teasing the flesh of your throat. Lightly, he begins suckling and nipping: the skin blooming with bruises under his ministrations.

As he litters your throat with his marks, he retrieves his wand from beside him, and holding the long piece of elm he drags the tip through your slit. You gasp in surprise, your eyes widening as you watch him tease your folds with his wand. Against your throat, Jimin whispers a spell, the words inaudible. Out of the blue, however, his wand comes to life - the entire length vibrating as the point presses to your clit.

“J-Jimin,” you howl, your legs snapping shut as you feel the intense reverberations of his wand against your aching bud.

Immediately, Jimin increases the vibrations, and, “Keep your legs open, slut,” he orders. Sucking in a sharp breath, you forcibly part your thighs again, even as they tremble violently from the mind-numbing pleasure that wracks through your body from his wand. “Good girl,” he praises, his wand indolently circling the outline of your clit.

“J-Jimin- P-please,” you choke out, the muscles of your throat straining to spew out the words. Delirious with overwhelming ecstasy, your eyelids flutter with every motion, causing Jimin to chuckle.

“Do you want to cum, Sweetheart?” he asks, his voice dark, and taunting. Hastily, you nod your head. With how intensely his wand vibrates - the pleasure concentrated onto your clit, where the tip of the wood incessantly presses against the bud - you can feel your stomach twist and knot with each second that passes.

“Yes,” you gasp out. At the same time, your hips start rocking as you grind your clit into his wand - relishing in the powerful reverberations of the vibrating charm that strums through your clit. Again, the telltale sear of euphoria burns through your bloodstream.

Wanton hunger skims through you, and feeling how close you are to your orgasm, you begin wildly thrusting your hips. In the reflection of the glass, Jimin simply watches with a smirk as you ride his wand. With each roll of your hips, your clit drags against the vibrating wood - your cunt rippling over and over as you chase your high. A smirk crawling on his hips, Jimin mumbles something indiscernible, and you cry out when the vibrations increase tenfold. Screwing your eyes shut, you cry out in pleasure. However, for a second time that day, just as you’re about to sink into the mind-numbing ecstasy of your orgasm, Jimin is pulling away.

“NO! P-Please no. N-No, please. Please,” you cry - the words spilling from your words over and over again. With your orgasm cruelly ripped away from you for a second time, you can barely think. Behind you, Jimin lifts his head up, and presses a soft, soothing kiss against your head, and feeling the tender action, you whimper. Through the mirror, you look at him with teary, pleading eyes, and “P-Please,” you sob. Jimin simply lets out a sardonic smirk.

“If you want to cum, keep telling me what you see,” he coos, his eyes flashing with barely concealed dominance.

Eyes blurred with pleasure, and so caught up in the ecstasy Jimin reaps upon your body, you’d completely forgotten about the mirror. Blinking the tears from your eyes, you focus your attention onto the magical glass once again, only for a wanton moan to fall from your lips at the sight. Your reflections have swapped positions now - your body riding Jimin reverse-cowgirl. Even in the mirror, your legs are spread wide - giving you a lewd view of the way Jimin’s thick girth spears your tiny cunt wide open.

“Y-You’ve got me on your lap… my legs spread a-as you fuck me,” you begin once again. Jimin hums underneath you, his lips once again peppering hot, open-mouthed kisses along the column of your throat.

He rewards your compliance by pressing his wand to your clit once more, before he runs it down your dripping slit, and towards your cunt. Feeling the thin wood trace the ringed muscles of your honeyed hole, you clench involuntarily - the action threatening to swallow the tip of his wand. Jimin spots the motion, and laughing lowly, he begins pressing it against your cunt. With how wet you are, you easily take the slim piece of wood into you, your eyes rolling at the thin intrusion. Unlike Jimin’s, or your own, fingers, the wood is unrelentingly hard, and you feel it slowly open up the soft flesh of your inner walls.

As he continues pushing the length into you, soft pangs of pain flutter through your velvet depths - the untouched walls slowly widening. Still, the pain is next to non-existent, and with the vibrating charm accompanying the invasion, even that subtle ache is drowned out by pleasure. Once half the wand is inside you, Jimin stops, and instead, he begins fucking you with the wood.

“Like this?” he asks. You pull your lower lip between your teeth, and biting down hard, you nod in response. “How am I fucking you?”

Automatically, “H-Hard. You’re f-fucking m-me hard,” you respond.

Jimin’s free arm moves to wrap around your body, and your breath hitches when you see him inch his left hands towards your cunt. He moves deliberately, your eyes dilating with desire as you watch it in the reflection of the mirror. Even with your gaze trained on the appendage however, you’re not ready for the way his fingers feel as they stroke your clit. The moment you feel the calloused pads of his fingers caress your throbbing bud, you let out a keening mew - your thighs trembling on either side of his legs.

Simultaneously, Jimin picks up the pace; fucking his wand into you even faster as he begins toying with your swollen clit. A shudder of pleasure races down your spine at the foreign pleasure. Despite his wand being slim, your untouched inner depths are unaccustomed to the intrusion, and as such, intense waves of ecstasy flourish through your body. Hot, voluptuous lips trail down the arc of your throat, and getting to the flesh of your shoulder, he bites down - hard enough to indent the shape of his teeth into your skin - and causing you to gasp.

“Be explicit. Tell me what you see,” comes his next order.

“Y-Your thick co-cock is spreading my c-cunt as you fuck me h-hard. I-I can see the way you c-cock opens my pussy,” you describe. Jimin lets out a strangled groan under you.

“Is that right?” he grunts. “Does my cock look good in your cunt, Princess?” Jimin begins taunting. “Do you like the way that pretty little virgin pussy stretches around my fat cock?” His warm breath fans over your naked shoulder, Jimin suckling his marks into your flesh between his sinful words. “Are you imagining how it would feel? How I’d fill you up - stretch you out - and carve the shape of my cock into you? So that you know who that precious cunt belongs to?” The intonation of his voice is incredibly deep, and turbulent with salacious desire. It tremors through the air, cutting the sounds of your wet cunt and erotic moans.

“F-Fuck,” you whimper at his words, your cunt involuntarily quivering around his wand; sucking it even deeper.

Feeling the movement, his wand slipping further from his grip, “Oh? You like that don’t you? Of course you do. Filthy little cockslut. Look at the way you swallow my wand. The way you drip and coat it in your cunt juices. You’re practically gagging for it. Begging me to defile this tight, sweet cunt,” he taunts. His words elicit a high-pitched, breathless whimper from your throat, and eagerly, you nod your head.

“Please fuck my cunt,” you beg, your eyes wide and imploring as you stare at him through the reflection. For a moment, Jimin stills. Your words are unprompted, and as such, completely unexpected. Yet, hearing the words drip from your mouth, laced with wanton ardor, has his entire body thrumming with exhilteration.

“Fuck. You’re a sin. My sin,” he groans in response. Then, he mumbles something unintelligible. You barely have time to comprehend what he says, because out of the blue, you feel your inner walls begin to stretch. Crying out at the sudden change, your eyes widen as you feel the girth of Jimin’s slender wand get thicker. The girth sluggishly increases, yet, with each second that passes, you feel your smarting walls stretch around the unyielding invasion.

Jimin doesn’t say anything. Rather, he begins fucking his wand into you ever quicker, simultaneously increasing the pace of his fingers against your clit. Pleasure and pain intermingle together, your eyes rolling back as your thighs begin to tremble. The sensations Jimin lavishes on your body are far too much to comprehend, and swiftly, you find yourself drowning in the fog of euphoria. Stomach twisting with the knot of your incoming orgasm, your breath turns laboured as you begin fucking back onto Jimin’s wand.

With each plunge of his wand into you, you feel your walls pull apart just a little more, and the vibrations of the wood only has your veins searing with desire. Soon, the wand swells past the size of what feels like two fingers, and you cry out when the burn of the stretch begins rippling through your inner walls. The pleasure is too much to handle, but you never want it to end. In fact, you wish it’d last forever: the sensations wholly addicting. In spite of that, however, “M-Mallowsweet,” you whimper.

Immediately, Jimin stills, and halting the spell, he slowly pulls his soaked wand out of you. Sitting up straight behind you, the hand playing with your clit moves, and he wraps his arm around your waist in comfort. He looks at you in concern - worry painted across his delicate features. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?” he swiftly asks, his gaze roving over your body. A surge of timidness floods through you, and biting your lip, you simply shake your head.

“I-I’m okay. I-I just,” you begin stammering, only to stop when you feel your embarrassment amplify tenfold. Jimin’s strong eyes knit together, and pressing his lips to your head, he presses an encouraging kiss to your flesh. Taking a deep breath, you gather all your courage, and, “I want your cock to be the first thing that stretches me out,” you whisper. At the sound of your steady voice, you internally cheer. At least you’d managed to get the words out without being a stuttering mess this time.

Sharply, Jimin sucks in a breath. Then, “Fuck,” comes his strained grunt.

In an abrupt flash, he moves. Grasping his wand, he plunges the wand into you once again. The sudden intrusion has your spine contorting, your head digging into Jimin’s shoulder as you cry out in pleasure. Expertly, Jimin angles the wooden rod inside of you and begins thrusting it in and out of your core with rough movements. At the same time, he mumbles under his breath, and your thighs shake as you feel the girth increase twofold as the wand begins vibrating inside of you once more.

“Ah- Jimin,” you cry, your eyes screwing shut as pleasure blinds your senses.

The hand around your waist pushes back between your thighs before he slaps your pussy once again. With the angle of his hand, the impact is concentrated on your clit, and feeling the sharp sting, a wail of ecstasy tears from your throat. Vehemently, Jimin begins spanking your cunt - focusing the slaps directly onto your hardened bundle of nerves. His punishing motions are only intensified by the way your fingers faithfully splay apart your folds: exposing the entirety of your throbbing bud to his actions.

“F-Fuck- Jimin,” you cry, tears beginning to mist at your eyes from the overwhelming mix of pain and pleasure that courses through you.

Pressing his lips to the shell of your ear, “Desperate little slut. You’re such a fucking cocktease. Do you have any idea what you do to me? Hmm, Kitten? Do you know how hot it is when you practically beg me to ruin that tiny cunt of yours? Hmmm?” Jimin growls out. You whimper at his voice. The usual sweet intonation is long gone. Rather, it’s filled with a mix of pure, carnalistic need, and dark dominance. Each sentence that spills from his lips is emphasised by a harsh thrust, and when you feel the tip of the vibrating wand drag against the sweet spot inside you, you cry out.

“Ah- Fuck- Jimin, please,” you sob. Between Jimin’s harsh spanks on your clit, and the vehement way he plunges his wand into you, you find your orgasm quickly building up. Heat prickles at your spine, your skin pricking with goosebumps as the white-hot pokers of euphoria sting at your flesh.

“Look at me,” Jimin hisses, and through the fog of deliriousness that clouds your mind, you hear the command. Opening your eyes, and briefly wondering when they’d shut, you come face to face with your reflection: Jimin’s intense gaze capturing your own. The sight that greets your eyes has you whimpering.

Your pussy is swollen, and so sodden that you can see thick strings of your arousal cling to the side of Jimin’s palm: the hilt of his hand grazing your cunt with each piston of his wand into your welcoming depths. Wetness leaks out of you in droves, and you don’t know how you haven’t noticed it, but you’re sitting in a puddle of your own wetness - the juices of your entrance soaking into the fabric of the back of your skirt. The lewd sight of your body has your breath turning shallow, and inhaling quick, sharp breaths, you feel your thighs begin to shake.

Spotting the telltale signs of your approaching climax, “Are you going to cum?” Jimin asks, and you swiftly nod your head. “Beg me,” he grits out.

Instantly, your mouth parts, however, your mouth is suddenly dry, and so lost in your incoming orgasm, you can barely find it in yourself to string together a coherent set of words. Still, you force out a few words; though, they come out garbled and incoherent. Lips curling into a sneer, Jimin snarls at you, and immediately rips his wand out of you. The sudden emptiness has you shaking your head, a loud howl of displeasure ripping from your throat. Wildly, your hips thrash, and you attempt to follow his wand as you feel your orgasm begin to subside.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Jimin brings down his hand onto your cunt - hard - and feeling the intense spank, your entire body jerks. “If you want to cum, you’re going to have to beg,” Jimin spits out.

Screwing your eyes shut, the tears finally begin falling down your eyes and you let out a dry sob. “W-Wanna cum. P-Please, J-Jimin, wanna cum. Please. Please. Please,” you wail.

With another spank to your clit, “Good girl,” Jimin praises. Then, he plunges his wand back into you.

The gesture is abrupt, and completely unexpected, and instantly, you’re forced over the edge of your own orgasm - the knot in your stomach suddenly unravelling. Shallow sobs ripping from the midst of your throat, the back of your head digs into Jimin’s shoulder almost painfully, and your body arcs as you begin cumming. Thighs quaking on either side of Jimin’s, your cunt clenches painfully around the wood inside of you, as blinding euphoria ricochets through your body.

With how much Jimin has already edged you, the force of your orgasm is threefold, incredibly overwhelming; and like nothing you’d ever experienced before. Toes curling with pleasure, you howl out his name, the sound coming out inarticulate, and close to inhuman. Waves of rapturous ecstasy surge through your body, your blood boiling with searing heat as your orgasm overtakes you. Momentarily, you feel yourself drift from reality - floating through the thick haze of elation - as you relish in the intoxicating sensation that floods through you.

Nevertheless, almost abruptly, you’re crashing down to reality. A dull, stinging ache shoots through your sensitive walls, the pain of overstimulation overtaking your mind-altering pleasure. Even with your entire body trembling from the force of your orgasm, Jimin continues plunging the vibrating length into you; though, his hand has moved from spanking your clit to rolling it in tight, vicious circles.

Hands jerking, you unclench your fist from your skirt, the other moving from your splayed cunt, and instead, you grip at his thick thighs. “H-Hurts- T-Too much,” you weep, the tears flowing freely as you blubber out a slew of strained moans.

Still, Jimin pays no mind to your cries, and instead, “Again. Cum for me again,” he urges. Twisting his wand inside of you, he shifts the angle to the tip of it, and presses it flush against the soft bundle of tissues that make up your sweet spot, before increasing the vibration to the highest setting.

A strangled howl tears through your lips: the intense reverberations against your g-spot causing you to careen straight off of the precipice of your climax. Second orgasm rolling in directly after the first one, your body violently quakes over him, and you wail out Jimin’s name - the muscles of your throat straining at the sound. This time, your cunt clamps vigorously - almost painfully - and you sob at the fervent heat of euphoria that consumes your entire being. The power of your contracting walls abruptly forces Jimin’s wand out of you, his eyes widening as you practically shoot out the long piece of wood.

“Fucking hell,” Jimin breathes out - his attention glued onto your cunt.

Gush after gush of wetness erupts out of your cunt; the jets of your cum pelting against the glass and dousing it in your essence. Jimin watches you squirt with wide eyes, the action completely unexpected. It only takes him a few moments to recover, however, and rapidly, he presses his fingers to your clit: strumming the viciously pulsating bud in quick, back and forth movements. His ministrations have your orgasm drawing out even further, and thick tears roll down your cheeks at the overpowering sensations that flood through you.

Brazenly, Jimin’s eyes stick to your swollen pussy, watching the way your drenched entrance contracts around nothing as you leak all over yourself, the mirror and the ground. Everything is drenched in your cum, from your own thighs, to parts of his trousers, all the way towards the mirror: rivers of your essence trailing down the magical glass and onto the floor. The heady scent of sex is heavy in the air, and taking a deep breath, Jimin’s chest purrs at the intoxicating smell of your cum.

Body erratically quivering from the aftershocks of your orgasm, your cunt continuously clamps around nothing - and with Jimin’s wand no longer pistoning into you - the sudden emptiness is only exaggerated by the involuntary movement of your walls. Coming down from your high, the ache between your thighs grows to be too much for you, and, “C-Cock- I n-need your c-cock. F-Fuck me. Please, fuck me,” you stammer out, the words coming out slurred; your tongue loose from your orgasms.

For a moment, Jimin falters, and looking at your fucked out form in the reflection, “Are you sure-” he begins.

Hearing the trepidation in his voice, you focus your glassy gaze onto him through the mirror, and, “Ruin me,” you breathe out. Despite the breathlessness in your voice, there’s not a single shred of hesitance in your eyes. Just ravenous hunger.

The corner of Jimin’s jaw flexes as he grits his teeth. Promptly, his apprehension ebbs - giving way to unbridled dominance as his gaze turns dark with lust. A low growl resonates through the air, “As you wish.”

In one smooth motion, Jimin’s hands move to your hips, and then easily, using all his strength, he lifts you and throws you up against the mirror. Eyes widening, you yelp at the sudden movement, your knees scraping against the smooth floor while your clammy hands press against the cold glass. You don’t get a moment to process the change. Without a moment’s hesitation, Jimin’s hands are curling between the soft flesh of your thighs, and forcing them apart, he spreads your legs further. The roughness of his actions cause you to groan, and willingly, you splay your knees further; pushing your ass out towards him.

Jimin’s chest tremors in approval at your gesture, and roughly pushing your skirt up your ass, he spanks the plump flesh. “Good little slut,” he praises. The sudden, acute impact on your lower cheeks has you squealing, the sound morphing into a garbled groan of pleasure. Emboldened by your reaction, and the way your ass ripples under the ministration, Jimin repeats his action.

A harsh slapping sound echoes through the air, pain flaring along your ass cheeks, and responsively, your head drops onto the mirror. The glass is cold, and refreshing against your sweat-soaked forehead. Jimin barely pays you any mind, and instead, he spanks you once more - as hard as he can. This time, you howl in ecstatic pain. Between the thick band of his ring, and his bulging biceps, this particular spank strikes your ass in the most enticing way possible. Cunt clamping down around nothing, you let out a low whimper at the incessant ache in your core, your breath fogging against the mirrored surface.

“J-Jimin- fuck me, please,” you beg.

One last time, Jimin brings his hand onto the plump cheek, before gripping the fleshy globes with both hands and pulling them apart. Under his action, you find your cheeks tinging with heat with mortification: Jimin exposing the entirety of your cunt and asshole towards his gaze. Seeing the way the puckered rim twitches, Jimin groans, and keeping one of your ass cheeks parted, he moves the other hand to brush your tight entrance.

A single finger indolently traces the ringed muscles of your ass, and you let out a breathy whine, your muscles locking at the sensation. “Such a pretty little asshole,” Jimin casually mutters. With how turned on you are, not to mention cumming so hard you’d squirted, the back entrance is completely slicked with your own juices. Grazing the blunt tip of his finger against your asshole, Jimin begins tracing teasing circles around the rim. “I bet it’s nice and tight in there. I bet you’d look so fucking hot struggling to fit my cock in that tiny little hole,” he mumbles. His voice is breathier, and filled with hunger, and you can’t help but whimper at the sound.

Suddenly, Jimin presses his finger against the rim of your ass, and your eyes widen as you feel the pressure: his finger threatening to enter your virgin ass. Nonetheless, before the digit can dip inside, he’s pulling away. “But that’s for another day,” he murmurs. “Right now, the only hole I’m interested in, is this one.” Abruptly, he forces two fingers into your cunt.

“AH-” you gasp, your eyes fluttering when he begins thrusting his thick digits in and out of your sodden entrance. Instinctively, your hips begin writhing, and pushing them back in slow movements, you fuck yourself onto his fingers: in a bid to take them deeper into you.

The silken walls of your cunt ripple around his fingers, and with each surreptitious contraction, your velvet cavern threatens to swallow his fingers further. “Such a needy cunt,” Jimin hums, his lips ghosting over the length of your shoulder as he presses chaste kisses to your skin. Parting his fingers in a ‘V’ shape, Jimin groans when he feels the tight resistance of your walls, “And so tight too.”

Driven near insane by the filth he spews, and the way he plunges his thick digits into your pussy, a soft mew slips from your lips. Nonetheless, it’s not enough. “D-Don’t t-tease m-me. W-Want your c-cock,” you beg with a stammer; your voice coming out higher pitched, and more desperate, than you’d intended.

“Insatiable whore,” he purrs, and despite the clear derision to his words, his tone is sweet. Almost affectionate. Still, Jimin pulls his fingers out of you, and instead, his hands move back to your ass. Cupping the cheeks, he pushes the plump flesh up and outwards, bearing the entirety of your dripping cunt to his gaze once more. He mumbles another spell under his breath, and to your utter surprise, a loud tearing sound fills the air.

You watch in shock as your skirt falls to tatters on the floor below you, but before you can say anything, Jimin is pressing his naked hardness flush against your bare sex. A shallow gasp slips through your lips, only for it to morph into a low groan when he begins grinding the velvet shaft into you. Hands still pressed flat against the mirror, you watch Jimin through the reflection. He’s still fully dressed in his uniform. The top few buttons of his white oxford are unfastened: exposing the defined peaks of his collarbone, and a few inches of his chest.

Meanwhile, his leather belt is undone, the two long pieces hanging on either side. Similarly, the button of his trousers and his zipper are open, his thick cock standing proudly through the opening. Attention dropping to the throbbing member, your eyes dilate with lust. He’s thick - incredibly thick. So thick, in fact, that a tremor of fear flutters through you, because there’s no possible way it’s going to fit inside of you. And yet, mixed with the fear is overwhelming anticipation, because you can’t help but want to feel his cock stretch you out. Even in the most painfully pleasurable way.

Jimin grips the base of his shaft with one hand, and angling it towards your entrance, he smacks the head against it. A loud, wet smack resonates through the air, and feeling the heavy weight of his cockhead against your wet cunt, you whine in need. Flexing his hips, Jimin slips his cock between your thighs before he begins thrusting it against your folds. Your slick lips spread on either side of his thick girth, and with each thrust, the prominent seam of his cockhead drags against your hardened clit.

Losing yourself in the pleasure, you let out a slew of breathless groans - your breath condensing on the glass - as you undulate your hips back onto him. Chest purring, Jimin lowers his head and presses an open-mouthed kiss onto the flesh just below the nape of your neck. At the same time, one of his hands grip your ass tighter, the other still holding onto his cock; and staring at you through the reflection, “That’s a good slut. Wet my cock with your cum,” he urges. Your body shudders at the sound.

Even as he kneels behind you, almost eye-level with your own gaze, he’s somehow still incredibly imposing. Noticing your gaze on him, Jimin smirks predatorily: his teeth peeking through the seam of his lips. Dark eyes, tumultuous with desire, lock onto your own, and while holding your stare, Jimin drags his cock through your folds in one long stroke, before pressing the head at your fluttering entrance. As the crown of his bulbuous cockhead pushes against your ringed entrance, you both moan.

Turning his attention down to your drenched folds, Jimin hisses when he spots the way your honeyed hole ripples. “Such a small, wet, little cunt,” Jimin groans. Then, gripping his cock tighter, he circles the head around your entrance, “Merlin, look at how tiny your cunt is compared to my cock. I don’t think it’s going to fit,” he chuckles.

Despite the clear taunt to his voice, you shake your head. “It’ll fit,” you whine, your hips thrusting back to take him into you.

Humming, “Hmmm, are you sure, Kitten?” he asks, and furiously you nod your head.

“I can take it. I can. Please. Please fuck me open. Please,” comes your soughed pleas, your eyes swirling with unbridled hunger. Behind you, Jimin exhales deeply at the clear neediness to your voice.

Jaw flexing, “Then take it,” he hisses through gritted teeth. That’s all he says, because the next thing you know, he’s pressing the crown of his cock against your cunt. A dull pressure builds up against your entrance, and your eyes widen at the sensation, a stifled whimper slipping through your lips.

You’re soaked, your entrance positively dripping, and as such, he should easily slip into you. In spite of that, however, he struggles to enter you: his absurd girth causing the taut muscles of your pussy to protest the stretch. For a moment your eyes flutter shut, causing Jimin to release your ass, only to spank it instead. “Look at me. I want you to watch as I fuck this tight, unused little cunt open for the first time,” he hisses.

Whimpering, your eyes snap open, your attention catching his. And it’s at that exact moment, that Jimin thrusts harshly. The force of his movement causes the mushroom-tip of his cockhead to squeeze into you with a sudden pop. Spine twisting, your back arches as a dry sob tears from your throat. Your eyes mist with tears once more, pleasure and pain surging through your body.

“J-Jimin,” you whine with a wince. A searing ache burns ripples through your tight cunt, the ringed muscles smarting as they strain around Jimin’s dense shaft. But, it’s not all pain. No, even through the agonising burn, there are intoxicating undercurrents of pleasure - the ecstasy cutting your discomfort.

Hands moving to rest on your hips, Jimin skims them over the swell before rubbing soothing circles into your soft curves. Arcing his neck down, he buries his face into your neck and presses a soft kiss to the column. “Shhh, Princess. You can take it, can’t you?” he cajoles. Regardless of his soothing gestures, however, Jimin continues pushing his unrelenting hardness into you.

Nodding your head, you force the entrance of your cunt to relax further, and feeling the muscles ease slightly, Jimin presses the rest of his cockhead into you - right up to where it meets the shaft. Once sufficiently inside of you, Jimin’s fingers flex, and digging the pads into the flesh of your hips, he begins pulling you onto his cock. Inch by heavy, agonising inch, his unyielding hardness spears into you. Gradually, the thick girth of his cock stretches out your walls: pulling your virgin passage apart around his heavy intrusion.

When he’s around half way into you, you let out a strangled cry, “F-Fuck, y-you’re h-huge,” you whimper. Jimin chuckles wrly.

“Are you sure you can take it, Sweetheart? Hmmm? Can your sweet, little, virgin pussy take my fat cock?” he taunts, slipping another two inches into you.

Nails scraping against the smooth glass, you drag your hands down the surface and hastily nod your head. “I-I c-can,” you respond.

Plump lips pressing to the roots of your scalp, “That’s my good girl,” he praises with a kiss. His warm breath fans across your scalp, and you shiver involuntarily.

Without a warning, his hips flex, and Jimin roughly thrusts the final few inches of his cock into you, the length bottoming out to the hilt. The sudden movement has you howling, your head falling onto the mirror once again. Against your will, your cunt ripples around his cock, your inner muscles contracting and clenching around his unrelenting shaft as it tries to force out the thick intrusion. Nonetheless, with Jimin’s hips pressing firmly against your ass, the clamping only massages his cock. Cock completely buried inside you now, his balls pressing flush against your wet sex, Jimin halts.

In the reflection of the mirror, Jimin watches as your face contorts in a mix of pain and pleasure. Your eyes are hooded: the lids fluttering with every passing impalement of his cock; and your mouth is parted: your breathing laboured as you struggle to take his cock. Regarding you with his dark, lust-filled eyes, he trails his gaze down your body - stopping briefly at your throat and shoulders - where he admires the love bites he’s littered onto your skin. Trailing his attention further down, he passes by your heaving chest: your breasts rising and falling with the movement, and your stomach, before stopping at the apex of your thighs.

In your current position, he can’t see the way his girth pulls apart your walls. What he can see, however, is the way your thighs tremble: the inner flesh covered in a thin sheen of your own arousal; and the way your nether lips drip with your wetness: filmy strings of your essence dangling in the air, some clinging to the skin of your thighs. Involuntarily, his cock twitches at the sight, and feeling the movement inside of you, you whimper out.

You have no idea how long you both stay like that - Jimin’s hands tenderly massaging your hips as he impales you on his cock. In fact, it feels like forever: time passing by slowly as you swim in the pain of his cock splaying your innermost depths. Gradually, however, the ache begins to ebb, and before you know it, you're left with just the delicious feel of Jimin’s immense girth splitting your cunt open. Perking up, you lift your head off of the glass, and taking a shuddering breath, you experimentally clench around his cock.

At the voluntary movement, Jimin’s shaft is emphasised inside of you, and you could swear that he hadn’t been kidding when he’d said he’d fuck the shape of his cock into you. Twin sounds of pleasure cut through the air: your low moan intertwining with Jimin’s strangled groan. Dropping his head down to your shoulder, Jimin bites down onto your flesh, and feeling the pain of his teeth sinking into your skin, you cry out in pleasure.

“Don’t do that unless you’re ready for me to fuck you,” Jimin warns. Deep inflexion of his voice resonating through your ear, you exhale deeply and repeat the motion. Except this time, you clench even harder.

“Fuck me,” you implore.

Mouth twisting into a derisive, lop-sided grin, “Hold on there, Kitten,” he purrs. That’s the only warning you get.

In one smooth motion, Jimin is retreating his cock out of you, until only the head is nestled inside of your cunt; only to thrust back in quickly. With one, swooping surge, he bottoms out of you, and the force of the movement has your entire body jerking. Grounding his knees onto the floor, Jimin uses the leverage to begin fucking you roughly. Hands braced up against the mirror, you attempt to find some form of purchase as your entire body jerks from his rough thrusts. However, with how smooth the glass is, you find none. Rather, your clammy palms slowly slide down the surface.

Sobs of pain and pleasure wrack your body with each drive of his hips, your toes curling as pleasure burns through your veins. Each plunge of his cock into your silken depths has you feeling every inch, every ridge of his cock. His immense girth pulls apart your walls deliciously, filling you up to your absolute limits. As the velvet shaft drags across your inner walls with each plunge, you feel him stimulate nerves you didn’t even know existed - the motions setting your entire body afire.

Jimin grips your hips tighter, and somehow, you feel his pace increase as he begins practically jackhammering into you. Your body jerks from the force of his thrusts, and consequently, you bounce harder onto his cock. Spreading your knees to brace yourself a little more, Jimin seizes the opportunity, and he angles his hips before he ruts into you even harder. The motion forces his cock to enter deeper into you, and you wail as you feel the blunt tip of his cockhead kiss the soft walls of your cervix with each thrust. Nonetheless, he pays you no mind, and instead, begins pulling your hips - forcing you to fuck back onto his cock.

His rough actions draw out feverish groans and slurred moans from your lips. The change in angle means that with each plunge of his cock, the head of his cock drags against the sweet-spot inside you, before it batters the back of your cunt. Soon, a dull ache begins settling deep within your stomach, and with each vehement pump of his cock, the discomfort slowly intensifies. “A-Ah, J-Jimin. T-Too d-deep,” you croak out with a stammer.

Dipping his head down, Jimin drags his lips against the shell of your ear. He takes the tip of it within his mouth, and biting down hard, “Isn’t this what you wanted, Sweetheart? Didn’t you want me to ruin your cunt?” he growls out. Then, with one deep thrust, he forces as much of his cock into you, before suddenly coming to a halt. “But if you want, I can stop.” The low tremor of his voice has your cunt clenching.

“N-No. Please d-don’t stop,” you whine, a mix of neediness and displeasure lacing your voice. Delirious with lust, you buck your hips onto his cock, and Jimin swiftly spanks your ass.

“That’s what I thought,” he hisses.

Out of the blue, one of Jimin’s hands moves from your hips, and instead, he hooks the arm under your knee. Hiking your leg up, he exposes your entrance to the both of you, and in the new position, nothing is left to your imagination.

The entirety of your sex is swollen with need, your clit visibly throbbing as it begs for attention. Slick with arousal, your entire cunt glistens in the low lighting of the room, and with how wet you are, thin rivulets of your arousal drip down your folds and onto Jimin’s balls. Dropping your gaze a little lower, you whimper at the sight. Your cunt is completely stretched, the ringed muscles pulled thin as they struggle to accommodate Jimin’s thick length. Like the rest of your pussy, your honeyed entrance is equally swollen; undoubtedly from Jimin’s brutal thrusts.

“Fuck. Look at you.” Jimin’s voice suddenly cuts the silence of the room. “See the way that unused little cunt has stretched? Mmmm. So fucking hot,” he hums.

Pulling out his cock, the both of you watch as your cunt grips his length, the ringed muscles being pulled with the movement. Once he’s only got his cockhead buried inside of you, Jimin thrusts in roughly once again. The sudden intrusion has you crying out in pleasure. “Fuck. How are you still so tight, Princess?” he grunts, his voice coming out strained. “Merlin, I’m not going to last long,” he mumbles, more to himself than anything.

“P-Please cum in m-me,” you whimper in response.

Jimin takes in a deep, steadying breath and then eyes flashing mischievously, “Oh, don’t worry, Princess. I’m going to ruin this cunt for anyone else. I’m going to fuck you so good that the only cock you want, the only cock you crave is mine. And then, I’m going to cum deep inside you, and dirty up your desperate - wet - pussy even more. So that you know, it’s all mine,” he growls.

“Now watch me fuck this sweet little hole open,” he orders. The next one of Jimin’s thrust causes your vision to blur, white spots blinding you.

Keeping your leg propped up with one of his arms, he moves the other from its position on your hips. Fingers tenderly stroking your hair, you shudder at the affectionate touch, only to cry out when he grips your hair and yanks your head back. The movement exposes your neck and using the opportunity, Jimin buries his face into the crook as he bruises it with more of his marks. At the same time, he begins riding you furiously - enjoying the way your inner walls ripple around his cock in the most enticing way possible.

Each thrust has his hips smacking against your ass and the sound of skin slapping is only broken by both your moans of pleasure, as well as the wet squelching of his cock fucking into your sopping wet cunt. Taking the flesh of your throat between his teeth, he nips and nibbles, causing the skin to turn tender under his ministrations. Then, releasing it, his tongue flicks out, he licks one broad line up your neck.

Getting to the spot just under your ear, he bites down on the soft flesh of your earlobe. “You like this don’t you, Kitten? You love the way this fat cock stretches you out. The way I ride your pussy hard and fast,” he taunts. The words shoot straight through your ear and down to your core, your cunt clenching responsively around his cock. You let out a garbled moan of affirmation, and Jimin lets out a throaty laugh.

“Merlin. Who knew the sweet little Head Girl was such a whore? Everyone thinks you’re so innocent. How do you think they’d react to seeing you like this? Your legs spread as you take my cock?” he questions and the teasing lilt to his voice has your thighs shaking.

Fog of euphoria nipping at the edges of your being, you feel the dull ache inside your stomach slowly intensify with every one of his thrusts. The muscles of your throat tighten at the pleasure, and in a bid to lubricate them, you swallow thickly. Behind you, Jimin continues plunging his cock into you, over and over again. Each thrust has his thick shaft dragging against every erogenous zone inside of you, and soon, you find yourself climbing higher and higher towards your peak.

Teetering on the brink of your orgasm, your stomach knots and twists. But it’s not enough. Between the apex of your thighs, your neglected clit viciously throbs - practically weeping as it begs for attention. Dry sob falling from your lips, “M-More. W-Wanna cum,” you croak out. Consumed by the pleasure Jimin reaps onto your body, electric ecstasy courses through your veins - your blood boiling with desire as you feel your end drawing nearer once again.

Swiftly, Jimin releases your hair. Instead, he thrusts his hand between your thighs and finding your clit, he presses the pulsating bud between his fingers. Toying with it gently, “Is that right, Princess? Do you wanna cum? Hmmm? You wanna cum all over this cock?” he ask, an apparent purr to his voice.

Driven mad with lust, it’s all you can do to gasp out your response. “Y-Yes. Please,” you slur. Skin prickling with goosebumps, your body flashes with heat. With each moment that passes, you can feel your orgasm slowly building up, your entire sanity dangling by a single thread.

Hearing your jumbled response, Jimin suddenly takes your hardened clit between his knuckles, and twists. “Then cum,” he orders with a hiss.

Instantly, a strangled wail of pleasure rips from your throat, the muscles of your oesophagus straining under the sound. The additional stimulation causes you to hurtle off of the precipice of your orgasm, and for a third time that night, you drive head first into bliss. Fingers scratching at the glass, you howl out Jimin’s name. Wave after wave of unadulterated bliss sweeps through you, the tide of your climax flooding into every fibre of your being as you sink into euphoria.

Eyes stinging with tears, white-spots blind your vision. Intense tremors wrack throughout your body, but even with the way your muscles tremble under him, Jimin continues thrusting his cock into you. His ministrations intensify your pleasure, and letting out a series of strangled sobs, you screw your eyes shut. Abruptly, the walls of your cunt clamp around his cock in a vice-like grip, and Jimin feels you grow wet once again. With your inner walls clenching and unclenching uncontrollably around Jimin’s thick cock, the Slytherin Head Boy lets out a carnalistic snarl.

“Fuck. That’s it, Princess. Cum around my cock. Fuck,” he urges with a groan. Nevertheless, your euphoria-addled mind barely registers his words. Instead, you fall forward, your body turning limp as you lose all semblance of your sanity as you revel in the waves of rapture that rocket through you. “Oh fuck. I’m cumming,” comes his strained groan.

Underlying ripples of pain begin fluttering through you as Jimin continues surging his cock in and out of your erratically contracting entrance; his fingers still mercilessly toying with your pulsating clit. Overstimulation gripping at you, “Please,” you weep.

Pace faltering, the hand playing with your clit moves to wind around your waist, and Jimin pulls you flush against his chest. Burying his cock as deep into your silken depths as he can, his thick shaft drives through your blissfully beaten cunt and you feel his blunt cockhead ram against the soft walls of your cervix. Instantaneously, your toes curl in pleasure, and your eyes roll into the back of your skull. Tears streaming down your cheeks, you let out a shuddering wail as your walls clamp down around him - almost painfully.

Without warning, Jimin’s pulsating cock swells inside of you, and with a deep roar, he begins cumming. Spurt after spurt of hot cum spills deep inside of your inner walls; Jimin painting your inner walls white with his essence. His cum is thick, and incredibly warm, and as you come down from your elated high, you relish in the feel of it flooding your stomach. Slowly, his cock turns flaccid, and you whine when the bulging thickness begins shrinking inside of you. Once he’s fully spent, he slowly begins pulling out of you.

The movement causes you to flinch, your raw cunt spasming with overstimulation as you feel his cock drag out of you. As soon as his cockhead pops out of your entrance, Jimin runs his nose against the back of your shoulder, and pressing a kiss to it, “Open your eyes and look at your cunt, Sweetheart,” he orders. Sluggishly, your eyes slip open before you lower your gaze to the juncture of your thighs.

Breath hitching in your throat, your eyes dilate at the sight. The previously taut muscles of your entrance are slightly parted open; the ringed flesh intermittently clamping around nothing. Thick trails of his gooey cum run out of your cunt and down onto the floor. Jimin’s teeth suddenly graze against your shoulder and, “See that? See how that tight little hole gapes? How you leak my cum? Such a pretty, ruined, cum-filled cunt,” he taunts.

Lazily, the hand on your clit dips further down your folds and towards your open entrance. A whine emanates from the back of your throat as you both watch, and feel, him press two fingers into you, the digits easily slipping into your battered entrance as he plays with his cum. Flinching at the intrusion, you weakly bat at his hand, an inarticulate sound of protest slipping from your mouth. Chuckling, Jimin pulls his hand away, and wiping his cum across your folds, he kisses the back of your neck.

Carefully, he brings your propped up leg back down, and you flinch at the stiffness in your muscles. So consumed by pleasure, you hadn’t even noticed the muscles begin to turn sore. The moment your knee is back down on the floor, your body slumps. In fact, you’re sure the only reason you don’t fall to the ground is thanks to Jimin’s body propping you up. Jimin lets out another throaty laugh, and wrapping his arms around your body, he pulls you flush against his chest.

“Are you okay?” he asks, and despite the concern in his voice, you can’t help but notice the faintest inkling of amusement.

For a moment, you simply heave for air - in an attempt to satisfy the burn in your throat - and once you’ve caught your breath, you nod. Swallowing thickly, you lubricate the dry muscles of your throat, and, “G-Good,” you verbalise. Another chuckle resounds through the air.

“Are you sure? It doesn’t look like you are,” he teases. Lips curling into a slight pout, you meekly smack his thigh. Though, still weakened from your orgasm, you’re sure he barely feels it.

“You’d be like this too if you’d been fucked as hard as I was,” comes your response, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

“You’ve got me there,” Jimin responds with a laugh. “Are you even going to be able to make it back to the dorms?” he asks, a teasing smile on his face.

You pause hearing his words. Then, pulling your lower lip between your teeth, “Oh… we can sleep here… if you want,” you whisper, your eyes dropping to stare at the floor.

Jimin raises an eyebrow at your sudden timidness, and for a moment, he can’t help but think how cute you are. Really, he’d just fucked you to kingdom come, and yet here you were, getting all embarrassed with asking him to share a bed with you. Nonetheless, he ignores your shyness. Instead, “There’s no bed here,” he deadpans.

Suddenly perking up, “Oh! This is the Room of Requirement. We can just ask for a bed. See,” you respond, gesturing your head to the side of the room. Tilting his head, Jimin watches in surprise as a bed suddenly materialises out of nothing. For a moment, he wants to question it, however, after a few short seconds, he simply brushes it off.

Instead, his arms tighten around your body, and carefully, using all his strength, he picks you up. He carries your limp body towards the bed, and with each step, you find your heart beating faster and faster. Eyes transfixed onto his face, you chew on your lip once again. His flesh is covered in a thin coating of perspiration, and the ends of his dark-pine locks are soaked with sweat. Still, however, he looks beautiful: his skin glistening under the low lighting of the room.

Getting to the bed, you feel Jimin lower your naked body onto the mattress. The instant you feel the heavy weight of the cotton sheets, your spine shudders. Not wasting a single moment, you quickly shuffle your body under the covers, your shoulders relaxing when your bare figure is once again hidden. Beside the bed, Jimin strips down to his boxers. Deft fingers undo the buttons of his white oxford, and once all are unfasted, you watch as he peels the sweat-soaked material off of his body, his toned muscles rippling under taut, honey-kissed skin.

Once his shirt is off, Jimin swiftly shimmies out of his slacks - the fabric pooling around his ankles. Unable to tear your eyes from him, you watch as he steps out of the article, his thick thighs bulging within the confines of his boxers. Which, speaking of, once again hides his cock. You have no idea when he’d tucked it away, but you can’t help but feel disappointed. Nonetheless, your displeasure doesn’t last long, because the moment he’s done stripping, Jimin walks to the other side of the bed, and crawls into the covers beside you.

Feeling the bed dip with his weight, you turn to him, and nervously smile at him. Jimin easily notices your bashfulness and freezing for a moment, he looks at you in concern. “If it’s too awkward to share a bed, we don’t have to,” he says. Quickly, you shake your head.

“No! It’s not that… it’s just… this is the first time I’ve shared a bed with someone,” you mumble out, your head ducking under the covers in embarrassment. A deep-bellied laugh resonates through the air, and you feel Jimin tug the covers down.

Squealing at the sudden movement, you attempt to hide once again. However, Jimin’s arms swiftly wrap around your bare waist, and in one smooth motion, he pulls you into his embrace. “I’ve already taken your first time. It’s only right that I take this first time too, then,” he jokes. Despite the lighthearted tone to his voice, you find your chest tightening.

The feel of Jimin’s warm skin pressing against your back has your shyness quickly fading, and instead, your body melts into his. Head pressed to his bare chest, you hear the steady beat of his heart. The rhythmic pulsing soothes your nerves, and involuntarily, a soft smile curls onto your lips. Thoughtlessly, you snuggle further into him, and reflexively, Jimin’s arm tightens around your waist; allowing you to search for a comfortable position. Once you find it, you still, before revelling in the tenderness of your actions.

Silence befalls the room, and for long, drawn out moments, you simply relish in them. That is, until you really process the intimacy of it all. In your current position, your naked chest is flush against Jimin’s, the soft swells of your breasts pressing against his own, muscular ones. One of Jimin’s hands lazily traces shapes onto the flesh of your hips, the other tucked under the pillow. Your face presses into the crook of his shoulder, the deep notes of sandalwood and bergamot intertwining with Jimin’s own natural scent.

Stiffening in his arms once again, butterflies flurry through your stomach. You’re not stupid. You know that realistically, just sleeping with each other, doesn’t mean that you’re together. If that was the case, Jimin was probably dating every single apprentice, not to mention a few mastership students, in Hogwarts. No, you have no real fantasies that this means anything to Jimin. And yet, as he holds you in his arms, you can’t help but let your mind wander.

Sensing your nervousness, Jimin flexes his arms. He bends his head, and brushes plump lips against your forehead. “What’s wrong?” he asks, his voice deep, and baritone.

“Nothing,” you quickly respond. Jimin simply lets out a deep exhale of amusement.

“Doesn’t sound like nothing,” he replies. Then, nudging your head with his nose, “Go on, tell me what’s on your mind,” he urges. Sucking in a sharp breath, you contemplate his words. For a few moments, you simply deliberate on whether or not you should say it. Or well really, ask him. You have no idea how he’ll react, and you know there’s a good chance he’ll simply laugh and wave you off. Nevertheless, this could be your only chance.

So, taking a deep, steadying breath, you gather all your courage, and, “Will you go to Hogsmeade with me?” you ask. The words rush out of your mouth in one single breath, and pulling away, Jimin regards you in surprise.

“Like… a date?” he clarifies, and bashfully, you nod your head. He doesn’t answer straight away. Instead, he simply watches you carefully, his features carefully passive. With each second that passes, you feel your courage and hope dwindle; mortification once again settling in your bones. Then, to your utter surprise, Jimin speaks.

“Sure,” he agrees. Eyes widening, your face shoots up as you gawk at him.

“Wait, really?” you stupidly ask. At your question, Jimin snorts.

“What? Did you not really want to go?” he asks, and despite the evident playfulness of his voice, you quickly shake your head.

“N-No. I just… didn’t expect you to agree,” you reply lamely. Jimin nods.

“Well, if I’m being honest, I’ve never really thought about it. Or you… like that,” he begins, and swiftly, you find yourself deflating. Sensing your upset, Jimin bends his head down and presses a kiss to your shoulder, “But, that was only because I didn’t really think we would be compatible… but after tonight… you’ve definitely piqued my interest, _____,” he continues.

Hope blooms through you once again, and against your will, you find a smile curling onto your lips, “Really?” you ask. Hearing the happy inflexion to your voice, Jimin can’t help but chuckle.

“Yes, really,” he replies. Then, a grinning wolfishly, he teasing grazes his teeth against your shoulder before biting down softly. The action causes you to gasp, and Jimin lets out a low growl. “Besides, I can’t wait to learn what else you saw in the mirror.” Instantly, your cheeks flush, and you let out a little whine.

“Stop teasing me,” you grumble.

Humming, “Nope,” Jimin replies, popping the ‘p’. “You’re too cute when you’re embarrassed for me to do that,” he explains.

You let out a little huff, and open your mouth to retort. Only to pause. Suddenly, a thought crosses your mind, and responsively, your eyebrows knit together. Curious as to what the mirror showed him, “What did you see?” you ask. A wicked smile curls onto Jimin’s face, his dark-pine hair hanging loosely in the air as he grins at you.

“Nothing,” comes his simple answer. Eyebrows creasing in confusion, you look at him in scepticism.

“Nothing?” you repeat, disbelief clearly laced in your voice. Jimin only hums in response. Bending his head down, he brushes his voluptuous lips against yours.

“The mirror shows you what your heart desires most. And in that moment, I had exactly what I desired,” comes his simple response. Instantaneously, a warm fuzziness flurries through your stomach; but as soon as it comes, it goes. Because, the next moment, Jimin is pulling you in for a deep kiss.

a/n: i hope y’all jimin fans are well fed, i know i’ve been starving y’all sjfjsjjfjdf anyway. this was super hard to write because i don’t see jimin sexually nor romantically so i struggled with it A LOT but 😭i hope i did it justice 😭 please don’t forget to lmk what you thought 🥺👉🏼👈🏼

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[ratmonky]

Curse of Innocence

A gift to my best friend for an eternity, @anti-interesting​

Word Count: 18.2K

Warnings: dub-con, gaslighting, manipulation, dacryphilia, voyeurism, cuckolding, bullying, obsession, alcohol

AO3 Link

“Ya heard?”

“Heard what?” Geto asked with a sigh, exhaling his smoke along the way and watching Gojo munch on an anpan. That guy was eating too many sweets nowadays, he was going to gain weight.

“Apparently, there’s gonna be someone transferring here next semester.” Gojo took another bite from his snack and chewed slowly, savoring the taste. “Shoko said it’s gonna be a girl.”

“So what?” Geto raised a brow. It would be good for Shoko, there weren’t many girls on the campus, it would definitely mean that they could slip away from doing all the cleaning in the dorms as well.

“I call dibs.” A sinister smile was on his face.

Geto paused for a moment to stare at his friend and snorted. “You’re such a lout.” He pretended to wipe an imaginary tear from his eye. “She’s probably like Shoko, don’t get your hopes up.”

“Nooo, I heard she’s a pipsqueak. Preciously charming and weak, at least according to Nanami who met her when she was visiting.” Gojo’s smile widened, eyes sparkling with dark intent. “Well, it doesn’t matter, since you’re not interested, it means I didn’t even need to call dibs, huh?”

Silence.

It had been a while since the last girl had dropped out. They were already going to become third years soon and it was boring here. Shoko wasn’t dumb enough to fall for their tricks or be a part of them and there weren’t any other girls around.

This new girl could change it. She could be the new entertainment.

“Hey,” Geto started, he was trying really hard to not let his lips curl up into a smile but he was failing. Gojo noticed it, eyes squinting and waiting for what his friend had to say. “Wanna go halfsies instead?”

~~~

The campus looked larger and more elegant than your previous sorcerer academy, you were impressed if not relieved. Although there were too many buildings and it was covered by trees, you hoped you could feel at home once you settled.

“So, what do you think?” Shoko suddenly asked.

You were hurrying after her with your bags and luggage. You nodded and when you realized she couldn’t see you since she was walking ahead, you spoke. “I think here is where I belong! It’s quite large and quiet, I love it!”

“I’m glad you think so, it’s large but it’s easy to get lost so make sure to not wander off alone.” She turned to look at you and flashed a smile. “Let’s move on to the dormitory.”

Finally, you were in front of a huge compound-like traditional house.

“This is the dormitory. Both girls and boys use it. Well, we have separate wards and bathrooms but we all stay in this building, it’s our duty to keep it clean and stock up the necessities with the allowance the academy gives us.”

Your mouth opened in admiration, the place was huge. Bigger than your parents’ house. Double… no triple the size of their house.

Shoko opened the door and invited you in. The entrance was small, you took off your shoes.

“Leave your bags here, I’ll first show you the left-wing of the building.”

Nodding, you followed Shoko towards the common room and the kitchen.

“We all hang out here mostly, the guys usually rent movies on Saturdays so they do movie nights here. The kitchen always needs to be clean. Do not leave any dishes out to do them later, wash them right away or put them in the machine. Then there’s this coffee machine-” Her shoulders slouched and she sighed as she showed you the broken handle by pointing a finger at it. “It’s broken but don’t throw it out. We use the oven mittens to grab the decanter. If you want coffee in the morning, come by at seven sharp because Nanami often gets over himself and drinks the whole thing.”

“It’s fine,” you said, putting a hand on your hip. “I like instant coffee better, it’s more convenient and easier to make when I want more. You don’t need to make extra coffee for me or anything. I even brought some with me.”

Shoko raised her brows and smiled at your feigned solace. It was easy to tell, acting confident when your hands were shaking from trying to keep up the facade. “Make sure to hide your coffee then, we share the place with two greedy guys and another caffeine addict like me. But again, I wouldn’t mind sharing my coffee with you, it’s practically nothing too important so don’t hesitate to take some.”

The two of you continued chatting before finally, Shoko took you towards the library and the study rooms after passing the dining hall.

“We have a bigger library but this is for when we need to study here. The books are all about curses, sorcery, and the history of sorcerers.” Shoko said, leaning against the door frame and watching you admire the books she knew no other library had.

Your eyes landed on a hardcover book and you gasped in excitement. “I can’t believe this! You guys have a copy of Sukuna’s Impact on the Japanese History?”

Shoko smiled smugly, “It’s the original.”

“Ahh, you’re so lucky.” You put the book back and smiled at her. “My previous academies only taught us about clans and curses, this is like on another level for me. I’m so happy I transferred here. It’s nice to finally become a student in one of only two of the best jujutsu schools.”

“You know…” Shoko pointed at the book you put back, “You can take it.”

“Can I?” You beamed, your cheeks flushing.

“Well, it’s here so the students can read it. You can take and read any book you like as long as you’re going to return them.”

You gently pulled the book out from the shelf and held it against your chest with both arms wrapped around it. “I’m gonna read this tonight.”

“Knock yourself up,” she chuckled, the boyish and geeky side of you was already showing through.

While you were lost in your thoughts, planning how you were going to read about that one curse anatomy book you saw after this one, Shoko’s voice filled your ears. “At the end of this hall is the laundry room. There’s an equipment room and a large pantry.” She snapped her fingers as if to remember something, “Ah yes, cleaning supplies are also in the laundry room. Nanami will show you those on Sunday, we all clean the whole building weekly.”

You nodded slowly, processing all this information.

“Now, it’s time I show you to your room…” Shoko walked past you and back to the common room and then to the entrance once again.

Quickly, grabbing your bags, you followed her to the right side of the building. This side was broader. She slid open the door and continued walking in a straight line. “Here’s the boys’ dorm.” Her eyes landed on the stairs leading upstairs. “Ours is upstairs. It’s divided poorly, I know.”

You sighed and she chuckled. Climbing the stairs was hard when you had so many bags with you.

Shoko slid open the door and ignored a couple of doors until she reached the one that had her name on it, “This is my room, yours is next to mine.” She pointed at the door next to hers before fishing out a pair of keys from her pocket. “There you go.”

You took the keys after putting down one of your bags. “Why are there so many?”

“It’s for the entire campus. One for the library, our rooms, the building’s door, and many more that you’ll figure out on Monday.”

“Okay.” You looked around and saw that there was another door at the end of the hall.

“Behind that is the girls’ bathroom. Leave that sliding door open after you’ve taken a shower otherwise it gets really foggy on the other side of the hall.” Shoko put her hand on her hips and rested her weight on one leg. “That’s it. You can get settled now. I’ll call you out for dinner.”

You bowed down slightly, “Thank you for showing me around. I hope we get along well, Ieiri.”

“Ah, you’re being too formal! Please call me Shoko.” Shoko grinned but bowed her head out of habit. “Let’s get along well, (name).”

Smiling, you repeated her name quietly. Perhaps the two of you could be really close friends even though you were going to be here for a year.

“One last thing,” Shoko said, just as you had unlocked the door to your room. “It’s a piece of advice from me.”

“Yes?”

“Don’t let the boys see you as weak. They’ll tease you for it.” She looked serious, her friendly smile and big, wide eyes were gone, replaced by a frown and half-lidded look.

“I can handle a little bit of teasing!” You were grinning, putting on the facade again. “Besides if you don’t get teased for being weak, how will you get determined to improve yourself, haha, right?”

Shoko didn’t answer.

Your smile slowly faded.

“Just… be careful.” She turned around on her heels. “Nanami’s fine, though. At least I think so.”

That was the last thing she said before walking away from you and sliding the door to the hall closed, leaving you confused.

Dumbfounded, you walked inside your own room, hoping that you could get the most out of your senior year here in Tokyo Jujutsu High. Unaware of the things to come.

~~~

As soon as Shoko put a foot down on the main floor, she heard the chatter coming from the common room.

She exited the dormitory and slid the door closed behind her. When she arrived at the common room, she found Geto giving Nanami a pack of cigarettes.

“Yo, Shoko!” Gojo waved at her from the couch he was sitting on. “Did the girl settle in yet? What does she look like? Does she have big boo-”

Geto slammed his fist on top of Gojo’s head. “Ah, Shoko, your brand of cigarettes was sold out, I bought the same brand as mine.” Retrieving his hand from the dumb one’s head, he reached inside the plastic bag and pulled out the pack to hold it towards her.

Shoko’s eyes were on Nanami as she walked closer to Geto and snatched her pack. “Thanks.”

Nanami hid his in the hidden pocket of his school jacket before speaking. “I didn’t know you were here, Ieiri.”

“You started smoking a little too early, Nanami,” Shoko squinted her eyes in irritation. “And you, why are you buying cigarettes for him? Shouldn’t you be an example of a great senior year jujutsu student?” She was pointing at Geto who shrugged his shoulders with a grin.

“What? Are ya gonna rat on us?” Gojo grinned as well and got up from the couch to pat Nanami on the back. “Besides, Nanami’s a responsible adult now, he bought it himself!”

Nanami nodded reluctantly to confirm.

“He turned eighteen barely a week ago.” Shoko rolled her eyes and her eyes landed on Geto holding his pack of cigarettes out to her. She stared at him with a raised eyebrow.

“Here.”

“Why?”

“So you won’t tell anyone.” Geto was smirking. “Also a gift before you leave for your training.”

“That’s a cheap bribe.” Shoko took the pack with an eerie smile.

“She took it anyway,” Nanami scoffed softly.

“They’re scary~” Gojo leaned towards Nanami. “Smokers are easy to bribe with more of those killer sticks.”

“What’s for dinner?” Nanami then asked, ignoring the idiot.

“Since I’m on kitchen duty tonight, I was thinking curry and rice, since it’ll be five of us from now on so we can’t eat takeout all the time.” Shoko put the cigarette packs in her coat pockets and walked towards the kitchen. “It’d be nicer if one of you helped me cook too.”

Both Geto and Gojo put a hand on Nanami’s back to push him forward.

When Shoko glanced over her shoulder, it looked like Nanami was silently following her to the kitchen to help her. “Thanks, Nanami, I appreciate it.”

While the second year was glowering at the other two seniors for sacrificing him, Geto took out another pack of cigarettes he had hidden in his pants’ pocket.

“I’m gonna go out for a smoke,” he said, informing his friend.

Without saying anything, Gojo followed him out. They walked down a path leading to Geto’s secret smoking spot.

“We didn’t get any first years this semester,” Gojo pouted. “I was looking forward to it.”

“You just want them to idolize you,” Geto tore the packaging of the cigarettes open and pulled one out, putting it between his lips.

“I just wanna have younger people cheer for me! I miss being told how great I am!” Gojo pouted, acting cutesy. “Nobody praises me anymore.”

Geto lit his cigarette and inhaled deeply, “We’re not children anymore, that’s why.”

“It motivates me when someone tells me I’m strong~” He leaned his back against a tree and looked at his friend over his sunglasses. “I bet, the new girl will be all over me.”

“Maybe she will,” he answered, exhaling the smoke with a smirk. “Shall we do the friendly and stoic guy gimmick again or try something else?”

“Nuh-uh! Overly friendly classmates! That always works!” Gojo laughed to himself and paused. “I just got shivers thinking about it.” Wrapping his arms around himself, Gojo trembled. “Ahh, I hope she’s the errand girl type.”

“Why?”

“Those are easier to trick.”

Geto hummed before nodding languidly. “You’re right. They are also considerably obedient, they’d do anything to not upset anyone.”

“A people pleaser like that girl who dropped out! They are pretty adorable,” Gojo chuckled. “Ahh, what was her name again?”

Shrugging, Geto took a whiff of his cigarette before giving a blatant reply. “Who knows.”

~~~

When there was a knock on your door, you were already done packing and were reading the book you had borrowed from the library.

Closing the book and putting a small divider on the page you were reading, you walked up to the door.

Although you were expecting Shoko to be on the other side when you opened the door, there was a blonde guy standing in the hall.

“Hii,” you chirped. “I think we met before!” It took you a small pause to remember his name. “Nanamin… right?”

“Nanami,” he corrected, looking anywhere but at your face to avoid making eye contact. “Dinner’s ready.”

“Sorry… Thanks for letting me know.”

As he was getting ready to turn around and leave you walked out of your room, closing the door behind you to tail after him.

Not really the type to enjoy small talk, Nanami felt obliged to say something when the two of you reached the stairs. “It’s curry and rice.”

“Hmm?”

“The food. It’s dinner and rice.”

“Ahh, it had been a while since I last ate curry. Did you cook it?”

“I only helped Ieiri to make rice.”

“That’s still cooking,” you giggled and offered him a pat on the back. “Next time I need someone to cook rice, I know who to call.”

Nanami chuckled at that.

You were also grinning like an idiot, stupidly happy for no reason other than managing to make him chuckle.

Inside the dining hall, Shoko was already seated, Nanami quickly sat on an empty chair.

“Nice dress,” Shoko commented when she saw you bouncing on your heels, unsure of where to sit. Twirling around to show off your dress, you thanked her with a smile. Soon after she pointed at a seat next to hers, “You can sit here.”

“How many are we?” you asked, noticing how there were only two more plates placed down on the table.

Before Shoko could answer, two guys entered the dining hall, laughing merrily.

You turned around and stared at the guy with raven black hair, it was half tied up, his hair was long and silky, dark eyes blinked before they landed on you. His lips curled up to a smile.

The guy beside him was grinning from ear to ear. “You must be the new girl!” Either the guy was a loud fellow or he was very nervous talking to you because his voice got only louder each time he opened his mouth to speak. “Ugh, it’s very nice to meet you, hope we get along well.” He rubbed his neck nervously, “I’m Satoru Gojo!!” His tone changed into something a lot softer and his cheeks flushed pink. It was even more noticeable when he reached in for a handshake.

“Nice to meet you, Gojo,” you replied and took his hand. “I’m (name).”

“You have such a nice name, perfectly fitted for a girl like you,” he smiled. And with that, he blushed even harder.

“Thank you,” you chuckled, your cheeks also blushing a little because of the intensity of his stare.

Gojo then encouraged another man who looked a similar age to you to introduce himself as well but the guy didn’t. He stared at you instead. His dark eyes wandered on your face for a moment too long before he clicked his tongue with a smile. And while you were staring back at him, you noticed something. He was magnetic almost, pulling you towards himself.

He reached in to shake your hand, “Suguru Geto.”

“(n-name).” Sharply gasping, your cheeks flushed and your heart started throbbing hastily in your chest but you tried to look indifferent. “N-nice to meet you two.”

He and the other guy exchanged a knowing look with each other when you stuttered.

~~~

“Argh! I thought we were both going for the friendly and shy guy!” Gojo rubbed his nose bridge while cringing. “You made me look sooo stupid. I told you to stop with the stoic guy thing!”

Geto was indifferent as he flipped a page of his book. “Well, she fell for it anyway.”

“You’re trying to steal her, right?” Gojo started pacing around the room. “I should’ve known! Ahh, you’re so scary, I hate you.”

“That’s not it.” Geto closed his book with a sigh, keeping a finger between the pages to not lose which page he was reading. “She’ll trust me and come to me if things get out of hand instead of going directly to someone else. We have to think ahead or it’ll end up like the others.”

“Still, you could’ve told me something before I embarrassed myself! Nanami and Shoko were holding in their laughs ya know!”

“You always make a fool of yourself so what’s the difference?”

Gojo visibly tensed, Geto had managed to get on his nerves.

“I apologize,” Geto said to avoid conflict. “Since I upset you, I’ll let you take the first step.”

With that his friend pushed his sunglasses up to his hair, smiling foolishly. “That’s very generous of ya.”

Geto realized he may have made a mistake to let Gojo take the lead. His friend enjoyed watching more than being a part of it.

~~~

The next day, your uniform came.

“It’s cute,” Shoko said, looking up from the magazine she was reading.

“Really? I wasn’t sure if I wanted to have a gakuen-like uniform. Does it suit me?” You frowned as you struck poses in front of the mirror.

“What’s important is if you can move in it. You’re going to wear that while fighting curses.” She sat up on your bed to get a better look at your uniform.

“You’re right…” You smoothed the fabric of your skirt and decided that it was perfect. “I think I like it.” Turning around to face Shoko, you smiled. “It’s so unfortunate that you’re going away to train as soon as I start though…”

“I’m not exactly the fighter type, I’m trying to become an autopsy technician after I get my degree.” Shoko mirrored your smile. “So you better be careful on your missions or I might be the one to dissect you.”

“I could never look at a dead body yet you’re willing to do that as a job?” You got goosebumps on your skin, “You must be very strong!”

“Mentally? Yes. Physically? Not at all.”

“By the way… why do you wanna become a jujutsu sorcerer?” As simple as the question was, it differed from person to person. Nobody wanted to become a jujutsu sorcerer for the fun of it.

Taken aback, it took her a long moment before she answered. “Money, not being sure what to do with the power to see curses, not having a future as a normal civilian. I don’t know, could be all of them at once.” She noticed your smile widening as if you were fascinated by her choice of path for the future. “What about you?”

Your answer was quick, you said it with your whole chest, eyes twinkling with determination. “To protect people from curses and collect all of Sukuna’s fingers.”

“Woah, talk about being selfless,” Shoko joked but you didn’t laugh. “While I’m away, you should hang out with Nanami and avoid conflict. Heated arguments can make all the hell break lose.”

You nodded in response.

“You don’t like to be seen as selfless, huh?” She didn’t want to leave for the internship tomorrow like this. It was clear you were upset. “Is there a special reason for you to hate it?”

You fidgeted with your fingers, confident and cheerful girl facade wavering yet again. “It makes people think that I’m weak. That I wanna become a sorcerer to feel better about myself when I actually wanna do something good with the power I was gifted.”

Ahh, the type who wanted to leave an impact. Rather, desperate to have some sort of validation.

At that moment, Shoko pitied you. “You care what people think about you, don’t you?”

“I… do.” Shoulders slouched and with those fidgeting fingers, you looked anything but confident.

“What others may think of you doesn’t truly define you. It’s hard to accept but not everyone will like you. It’s impossible to be loved by everyone, so you should worry about getting your degree along with your sorcery license.”

She was trying to encourage you but it felt more like a talk some adult would give to a kid that wouldn’t stop crying.

“Y-yeah, I’ll do that.”

Shoko got up from your bed and ruffled your hair, “You have my number and email address. You can contact me whenever you wanna.”

With the mood lightening, you were able to fix your posture and nod rapidly. “Same goes for you too!”

~~~

Monday started with you and the others seeing Shoko off from the bus station. The four of you took the bus that came after hers.

“This bus goes all the way to the stop by the campus and down to here.” Nanami handed you a card. “Ieiri told me to give this to you. It’s a transportation card. Works with everything.”

You took the card and thanked him as you put it in. “Tokyo is a bigger city than I thought.”

“Let’s see,” Gojo turned around his seat to stare at you and Nanami. He clasped his chin between his thumb and knuckle, thinking carefully. “There were two different curses reported around here. We should split up and meet back up in the dormitory when we’re done.”

“Wait,” you said, chuckling nervously. “We’re gonna deal with curses by ourselves? Without a supervisor?”

Three of them stared at you in the same confusion you were looking at them.

“We learn on the field after the first year,” Geto explained. “Most of the schedule for us is exorcising curses. We don’t have classes on campus nowadays either. Our teacher is abroad.”

“B-but isn’t it dangerous to exorcise curses without a teacher or a professional sorcerer around?”

“Was that how it worked back in your previous schools?” Nanami was trying to be understanding, you clearly weren’t confident in your abilities or needed supervision.

“Y-yeah. I-I mean curses can be really dangerous and we’re still not professionals.”

“You’re overthinking it!” Gojo said, looking at you over his sunglasses. “We can go together, you and me. I’m the strongest so you don’t need to worry about anything.”

Geto sighed, glancing over his shoulder to look at Nanami. “You’re okay with being paired up with me?”

Nanami shrugged.

“Great!” Gojo pressed the stop button attached to the pole. “(name), come on! This is our stop.”

Nanami got up from his seat to let you follow after Gojo towards the bus door.

“It’s only my first day…” You hesitated.

“You’ll do fine,” Geto encouraged, “Satoru will help you out.”

You blushed faintly and bowed your head in acknowledgment as the vehicle rolled to a stop.

“Satoru, don’t force her too much on her first day.” Geto was smirking when the doors opened.

“Sure sure. I won’t.” Gojo waved at him lazily and got off the bus with you. He turned around, stretching his arms over his head before talking. “Do you use cursed tools to exorcise curses?”

“Sometimes-”

Without letting you finish your words, Gojo pulled out a dagger from the inner pocket of his jacket. “You’ll need this then. Curses here in Tokyo are intelligent.”

Grabbing the dagger from him, you nodded sluggishly. “O-okay.”

Once you put the dagger in your utility belt, he draped his arm over your shoulder and started walking, leading you towards an alleyway. “Now, tell me all about yourself! I need to know everything.” He was pressing you to his side, his hand on your shoulder slowly slid down to your waist.

“Um, Gojo… this is a little t-too close,” you mumbled shyly.

Gojo leaned down, his face got awfully close to yours. He managed to bite down the urge to grin. “Sorry, what’s that? I didn’t hear what you said.”

You were completely silent, blushing in embarrassment and looking away. “N-nothing.”

“Hmm.” His fingers pressed on your hip, caressing your skin over the fabric of your skirt softly. “How have you been liking Tokyo and our college so far?” he asked, leading you down another street.

“It’s been barely three days… but I can say that it’s different from where I come from.” That was all you had to say as you tried to not give much thought to his hand on your hip. You dipped your head in a nod when he gestured towards another alleyway.

“You’ll love it here! Shoko said she liked you already and I can tell we’re gonna be really close too!” he laughed, his smile was contagious. You couldn’t help but smile despite being uncomfortable. “Maybe you’ll even befriend Suguru in the future!”

“I-is it hard to befriend him?” Oh, so innocent.

“Definitely,” Gojo let out a dramatic sigh. “He doesn’t trust people that easily but I hope you’ll be able to see him smile one day. It’s a sight ya don’t see often.”

“How could I befriend him?” you politely asked.

“By befriending me!” he replied, his thumb drawing circles over your clothes. “It took me two whole years to gain his respect ya know. I can help speed up the progress by telling ya all about him.”

To move away from his hand without saying anything that might make you seem like such a prude, you pressed yourself flush against his side but it only made everything worse. His hand slid further down your hips, smoothing the fabric of your skirt and-

“Don’t!” you suddenly said, pushing him away from yourself.

Gojo looked dumbfounded and confused as to why you were upset. “What happened?”

“It’s just…” The expression on his face made you feel guilty. He clearly had no ulterior intentions or anything. You were overreacting. You had to be overreacting.

“Ahh.” He softly slapped a hand on his forehead, “Sorry, I must’ve been too friendly. I’m the type to be comfortable around friends pretty easily. Shoko told me to be careful but I clearly failed, so sorry again if I made you uncomfortable,” he said, catching you off guard.

Your heart shattered into a million pieces. Now, you were going to be known as some prude who thought everyone who came close to you was after you.

“N-no, I was the one overreacting. I-it was just too overwhelming for me I guess, I don’t know. Please don’t blame yourself!”

“Don’t worry about it,” Gojo said, smiling brokenly. “I’m used to it.”

You had messed up already. It was only your first day but you had already managed to make the cheerful guy somber.

“The curse is in that abandoned building,” he pointed towards a two-floored apartment building, changing the subject. “Let’s exorcise it and return back to the campus.”

It was silent between you up until you arrived at the building and entered it.

“I’ll check upstairs so you should check here.” Gojo’s tone was colder than ice, it lacked the usual chipper you had grown used to in such a short time. “Just call out my name if you need help.”

“Yessir!” you chirped, trying to ease the mood. To add to the goofiness, you saluted but Gojo didn’t do anything more than stare at you blankly. Somehow, it made you feel even worse. Now, you were both embarrassed and guilty.

Quietly, Gojo climbed up the stairs, leaving you alone.

Ugh! This was the worst. What Shoko had said before had scared you and put you on the edge around the guys. You had to be out of your mind to ruin your relationships with your classmates over a possible prank Shoko had pulled on you.

“Help-”

You jolted, listening carefully.

It was quiet again.

Maybe it was your imagination.

“Help!”

This time it was loud and clear, you walked further inside the building and listened again. “Hello?”

“Over here.”

The voice was coming from upstairs.

“Gojo! Are you hearing this?!”

No response.

A sudden rush of panic took over your senses.

Was Gojo hurt?

Unconscious?

Was he ignoring you?

Was it all of the above?

Without any hesitation, you climbed up the stairs and walked along the long hallway until you reached a dead end.

A low growl filled your ears and cold shivers went down your spine. You could feel the presence of something evil behind you, something with a ton of cursed energy. Definitely not a low-grade curse, maybe a grade one but nothing lower than that.

Turning around was a simple task, you could have done it solely by thinking about doing it but your legs wouldn’t budge. Your hand that was clutching on your belt to pull out the cursed tool Gojo had given you was shaking violently, nevertheless how you had exorcised some other curses in the past, this was the first time you were facing one alone, without anyone watching over you.

The cursed energy coming from the creature filled all of your senses and wrecked your nerves. It was as if you were drowning after being stung by a jellyfish, the shock was making you unable to move and although you were about to die, you couldn’t do anything about it.

What a way to go!

Dying on your first day on the field after embarrassing yourself in front of a classmate who clearly was defeated by this curse, otherwise, where could he be?

A sharp breath left your lips when the curse abruptly pulled you into its skin, absorbing you into its flesh and many hands it had started groping you.

The hands were going under your skirt, caressing your inner thighs, fondling your tits as you sank deeper into its flesh without fighting back. Then there was the wetness, warm, slick muscle wrapped around your throat before moving up towards your face. It was a tongue you realized. The wet muscle forced itself between your lips and pried your jaw open to snake itself down your throat.

Tears started streaming down your face right away. Multiple hands kneaded the soft flesh of your thighs and tits roughly as the tongue started swirling around in your mouth. Foreign feelings of all of the hands and a wet muscle grazing the back of your throat were too overwhelming, your head got lightweight, eyes rolling up. You were about to lose consciousness, it had to be the curse’s doing.

“Ah, you’ve found the curse.” Gojo’s voice was the last thing you heard before your vision went dark.

Gojo on the other hand was smirking, secretly glad that you weren’t able to see his cock swelling up under his pants as he was watching you get violated by the curse. Your body was still reacting to its tongue moving inside your mouth, eyelashes fluttering, and legs desperately trying to press together from involuntary pleasure.

It was quite a sight to see. Having your legs spread open by many hands of the curse that was ignoring him wasn’t something he had been exactly planning to see today but he was grateful nonetheless.

The hands that were spreading your legs moved further up towards your inner thighs, hiking your skirt up completely before another hand helplessly tried to tore your panties off of you.

Now, it was going a little too far.

“Over the clothes is fine but trying to touch her bare skin… you’re getting ahead of yourself, you shrimp.” Gojo rolled his eyes, curses could be excessively selfish, thinking that they own everything.

With a flick of his finger, he exorcised the curse in an instant. Its body exploded into a million different pieces and your body, released from its groping hands fell on the ground in a silent thud.

The next thing that echoed in the empty building was the sound of a belt unbuckling and a zipper being undone.

~~~

You jolted awake, eyes wet with tears and body trembling.  

“Hey,” Gojo’s voice above you was worried yet calming. “It’s just a nightmare, I’m here. You’re safe.”

You were being torn apart, emotions a wreck that couldn’t be fixed. Memories of what had happened washed over you frantically, leaving you breathless. Your arms quickly reached for the only person in front of you, begging for his closeness to feel comfort.

Gojo’s reaction was a bit delayed, but he carefully wrapped his arms around you and almost immediately you started sobbing pathetically.

The curse was gone, you couldn’t feel its presence. He must have exorcised it to save you. All you ever did today was to cause trouble for him.

“Sorry,” you said quietly, in between sobs.

“Hey, there’s nothing for you to apologize for,” Gojo’s voice was soft like honey, his sunglasses were pushed up to his hair and he was holding you in his lap. “Are you alright? Have you calmed down a bit?”

You frowned, tears gushing out from your eyes again. “I-I was so scared.”

“Anyone would be.” With your head pressed on his chest, you could hear his chest rumbling as he spoke. “You’re safe now.”

You sobbed as you remembered what had happened once again.

“What happened?” he asked, lulling you into a false sense of comfort, pulling you closer towards the trap.

You told him your story, slowly, a little at a time with small breaks of you crying.

You were raised in the hopes of becoming the head of your clan, forced to act tough, and were taught to be caring and loving yet you had never received any real love or care from anyone. You were in no way treated fairly by anyone.

So you had assumed the role of the caretaker of others with a facade of a motherly figure. You helped others and hoped to get happiness in return but in no way it was as easy as you had hoped. People were only loving to you when you were doing something for them in return and that was how you noticed you could be loved. By being useful to others. And eventually the habit of taking care of others to feel validated developed inside you. However that also became a problem, you were now being seen as weak, someone who could never lead others. Then you were sent to many different jujutsu colleges in the hopes that you could become somewhat more courageous and leader-like.

But that never happened, you couldn’t change what you were or what others would think of you no matter what. You felt lost for many years.

Later after being told that the Tokyo Jujutsu High could be the one to fix you, you had transferred here overnight.

You had thought moving to Tokyo was going to be like any other place but as soon as you arrived at the campus and met the others, you felt the warm feeling of a home. You realized you belonged here.

People here treated you like a person. Like you were a part of whatever they had going on here without judging you for being weak like any other people you had met so far would.

For a while, he was oddly quiet. He listened to your sobbing and sharp inhales until they calmed down.

“Well,” Gojo pressed his cheek on top of your head, arms tightening around you and legs moving to bring you closer on his lap.  “What can I do to ease your pain?”

You pressed a hand on your cheek to wipe your tears to save yourself from the stickiness but most of it was dried snot, or at least that was what you thought it was. “Right now, I just wanna go home. I feel so dirty…”

“Yeah,” he spoke into your hair, taking a long whiff. “Smells like you need a shower.”

The reason why you were crying past forgotten, a laugh escaped you and you smacked your hand on his chest playfully. “Hey!”

“Whaaaat? You stink!” Gojo used his thumb and forefinger to press his nostrils together as he grimaced.

Pausing, you looked up to him through your lashes, suddenly self-conscious. “D-do I?”

Gojo’s arms around you were kind of pressing you down onto his crotch and his flip phone was poking your ass but you tried to ignore it, you didn’t want to cause another misunderstanding as he leaned forward towards you. “Let me check again.”

He pressed his nose into your hair but you didn’t hear him inhaling. When you turned to look at him, he buried his face into the crook of your neck. Face completely blushed, your eyes widened and your heart skipped a beat.

After a long sniff, his hand on your back reached further around to wrap tighter around your shoulders to press you flush against his body. “I take it back, ya smell nice.” He spoke into your skin, lips brushing against your neck and the hot breath of his mouth making goosebumps prickle your skin.

You let out a breathy laugh to cover your nervousness. “T-thanks!”

He smiled against your skin before pulling himself back. “But I’d say ya still need a shower. You smell exactly like a booger.”

“You! You were just-!” You pushed him away as you blushed furiously, flustered by all of his teasings. “You’re soo mean!”

“Hehe, I’m mean? I saved your life, ya know!”

That was true. The unpleasant memories flashed in front of your eyes once again but this time, Gojo was ready to help you get up to your feet and exit the building to go back home while holding his hand.

“There’s this ramen place down this street, let’s eat lunch before we return, whaddya say?” His glee had returned, his smile was more gorgeous than you had realized.

“O-okay!” You let him intertwine your fingers together but blushed harder as a result.

~~~

“Ah, the others are still out…” you said as soon as you stepped inside the dormitory. Their shoes weren’t by the entrance.

“We have the whole place to ourselves, isn’t it great?” Gojo kicked off his shoes to walk further inside. “We can watch this one movie I rented out last week… ah... I forgot to return it… Anyway! We can still watch it! The movie’s about-”

“I think I’m gonna take a shower first,” you shyly interrupted. “But we can still watch it after I’m done!”

He nervously rubbed the back of his neck, “I see, you should be quick then. Once Suguru and Nanami come back, we won’t be able to do anything.”

You nodded, hurrying up to the girls’ dorm, grabbing clothes and your towel to head towards the showers but then you saw the large sign with big red letters just as you were about to enter.

Although you were already bummed out about not finding your body towel and only had your hair towel with you, the sign made your day worse.

Walking downstairs, you found the person you were looking for in the kitchen.

“Um, Gojo?”

The guy mentioned closed the cabinet he was checking and his lips curled up into a smile but it disappeared as soon as he turned to face you. “Yeah?”

“It says that the water pipes are damaged upstairs…” Hugging your clothes and towel tighter on your chest, you raised your eyebrows to ask him something he had planned for you to ask. “Where am I supposed to shower?”

Gojo hummed in thought. “Well, you can use our bathroom. I can stay on the lookout for you so Suguru or Nanami won’t walk in on you.”

You looked hesitant but you had learned to trust Gojo. He had made sure of that.

“O-okay.”

“Leave your dirty clothes in the basket by the door, I'll wash them for you.” He walked around the counter to put an arm around you, walking you towards the boys’ bathroom.

“I can do it,” you said softly.

“I’m gonna wash my stuff anyway so I can do it for ya!” he insisted, easily having had figured out that you couldn’t say no to people.

Nodding reluctantly, you spoke after clearing your throat. “Can you please make sure nobody comes in? I-I would feel safe if I knew you told them to not come in.”

“Of course!! I’ll call Suguru right away!” Gojo offered you a polite smile. You stood in front of the bathroom door, he pushed you inside. “So it’s the exact same as the upstairs but the only difference is that you should wear one of those slippers while showering.” He grabbed a large pair of slippers for you, putting them in front of you as you were taking your socks off. “Do not, and I mean this, do not walk barefoot here. We don’t clean the floors, we should but we won’t.”

“That’s kinda icky…”

“You can clean it if you wanna but we won’t.”

“It should be your job to clean your own dorm.” You put on the slippers with a sigh.

“Take your clothes off and take your shower before they return or I’ll bring them in here.”

“What!?”

“You heard me.”

Of course, you heard him. You were blushing furiously.

Gojo giggled and walked over to you. “You can’t bathe in your clothes, can you?” He pulled you out of the shower area. “Come on!”

“I-I will! You have to get out first!”

He stared at you with deadpan eyes, almost in disbelief. “I thought you wanted me in here so nobody would come in?”

When you blushed harder, his facade fell and he snorted before long he was laughing merrily.

“You’re so easy to tease!”

Covering your face in embarrassment, you told him to leave politely.

“I will I will!” He ruffled your hair, leaning down to whisper in your ear. “I’ll be back to collect your laundry so don’t freak out about that, right?”

“R-right.”

“So adorable…” He patted on your head one last time before leaving.

As soon as he left, you took your uniform off, folding them neatly to put them in the small laundry basket. Since after this separation you only needed your towel, you left your clean clothes next to the basket, folding them as well.

Sluggishly, you unhooked your bra and slipped out of your panties, placing them in between your clean clothes. There was no way you were going to let Gojo wash your underwear, that was too… too-

You were blushing and had to internally shake your head to clear your thoughts. Once naked, you wrapped your hair towel around your body, it was a lot shorter than you thought, not the actual towel you planned on using to cover your body. Ugh, whatever. You were going to get out of the showers and put on your clothes anyway. It didn’t matter what length of towel you had.

After taking a deep breath you walked into the bath area to take a shower.

~~~

Gojo had all of your clothes in the laundry basket and was walking towards the laundry room when Geto entered the dormitory with Nanami.

“Yo Suguru!” he chirped, “Don’t enter the bath, she’s in there taking a shower.”

Geto snorted, covering his mouth with a hand, “It really worked huh?”

They were all standing in the common room as Gojo nodded rapidly. “It’s all thanks to Nanami, his handwriting is soooo professional. I bet she thought it was from some janitor or something. She didn’t even question how Shoko was able to shower just this morning.”

While Geto and Gojo were snickering, Nanami was staring down at his feet. “Can you keep me out of this one?”

“Eh?” Gojo deadpanned. “Getting cold feet already? You promised you’d join in?! This is a once in a lifetime chance, Nanami~”

“Don’t force him,” Geto said, still a smile plastered on his face. “I think he’ll get around anyway.”

Gojo’s grin returned on his face, “True true! She’s sooo adorable and easy to handle. It’s like she was made for us.”

Nanami shook his head, trying to look serious but failing miserably.

“It’s no worries, Nanami,” Geto informed, placing an ensuring hand on his shoulder. “You’ll always have an open place.”

“Yeah, women have three holes ya kn-OW!” Gojo’s words were cut short by Geto flicking a finger on his nose.

“What do you have there?” Changing the subject way too quickly, Geto pointed at the laundry basket.

Gojo rubbed the tip of his nose and pouted. “Her clothes.”

“All of them?”

“Ya.”

“Did you use six eyes to spy on her?”

“Nooo~” Gojo tried to hide his smile and lie but failed to keep his face neutral.

“Bastard.” Clicking his tongue, Geto rolled his eyes. “How did the exorcism go?”

“Well, it went well,” Gojo sighed.

“You said well twice,” Geto pointed out, “Tell me what happened.”

“It was nice,” he said, shrugging. “I don’t know what else to say.” He tried to avoid Geto’s gaze on him. “Got to see her getting ravished by some curse and all…”

Geto grimaced and went quiet. The sound of the show playing on the television in the common room wasn’t loud enough to fill the silence that Gojo had created.

Nanami was blushing but he couldn’t leave as Geto still had his hand on his shoulder, keeping him there.

“I shouldn’t have let you take the lead, you always go overboard on the first day.” Geto was angry at himself.

“Take this as a token of my condolences.” Gojo held your bra up towards his friend.

“He wants the panties for himself.” Geto leaned towards Nanami to complain, “He thinks he’s so smart but I want the panties.”

Gojo shook his head dramatically, “It’s for Nanami. He should take the panties since we made him go through all that trouble. It’s also like an honor to receive the panties, right?”

Nanami refused to look them in the eye.

“He’s acting like the good guy now,” Geto snickered. “We’re not doing anything wrong, Nanami. (name) is in good hands, we wouldn’t do anything to hurt her.” At least physically.

Geto’s voice was calming and soft like cotton, giving the second year a sense of comfort.

“Yeah man, trust your upperclassmen a little!” Gojo laughed merrily, holding out the pink panties towards Nanami. “We’re only trying to teach you!”

Taking the panties from his grasp with shaky hands, Nanami nodded. “Yeah…”

Geto patted him on the back, “Now, where exactly are her weak points?”

Nanami jolted, blushed faintly because of how he has used his ability before. He opened his mouth to say it.

The other two listened attentively.

~~~

Don’t freak out.

Don’t freak out.

With a hair towel barely covering your modesty and on the verge of tears, you were trying to talk yourself into running out of the bath and upstairs. If you run, nobody would see you.

Why had Gojo taken all of your clothes?

Ugh! You shouldn’t have put them there, he probably took them thinking that they were also dirty but deep down you knew you were clumsy enough to end up in this situation anyway.

It was quiet.

Too quiet.

You could run.

Just run upstairs.

Yeah, that was all you needed to do.

You stepped out of the bathroom and instantly heard footsteps. Like an idiot, instead of going back inside the showers, you lurched forward, trying the first door you stumbled upon and successfully opening it to enter the room to hide.

Pressing your ear to the door, you listened to the footsteps, they didn’t come close to this room but you heard a door being opened and closed shut.

Letting out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, you pressed your forehead on the door. You were going to wait a little more before bolting out of this room to run upstairs.

“Can I help you?”

You jerked so suddenly that you managed to hit your head on the door. When you turned around, you found Geto watching you intently from his bed.

Your cheeks flushed, unable to say anything other than gibberish you started stuttering.

He got up from his bed, putting the book he was reading aside and heading straight towards his wardrobe.

“I’m sorry it’s Gojo, he took all of my clothes and-”

“Here.” Geto held out a shirt and sweatpants towards you, cutting your sentence short. “You can wear these and leave.”

You stared at the clothes he was holding out to you, eyes wide and cheeks burning up. Pressing the towel harder on your body, you tried covering yourself as much as you could.

Meekly taking the clothes from him, you bowed your head to show appreciation. There was a moment of silence between the two of you before he walked away and turned around to give you privacy.

You stood still, indecisive, before finally dropping the towel on the floor to put on the clothes he gave you.

Although they were quite large on you, in the end, you weren’t naked anymore.

“T-thank you.” Your voice was soft and full of admiration as you picked your towel up from the floor. He was so kind and respectful.

He waved a hand in lieu of speaking, telling you goodbye.

Not needing to be told twice, you left his room. Geto hoped that you hadn’t noticed him snapping a picture of you with his slide phone but even if you did, he knew you wouldn’t be able to say anything against it.

~~~

Later that day, Gojo apologized to you multiple times, telling you how he was so lost in his thoughts and took all of your clothes with him.

“Here they are though! Washed and dried!” He held the small laundry basket to you. Your clothes were indeed clean but they were… messy. They hadn’t been folded neatly so you had to iron them later. Despite that you thanked him.

Back in your room, you noticed that your underwear was missing from the pile of clothes in the laundry basket. All of them. Your clean and dirty ones.

Quickly, you walked downstairs, past the common room where all the guys were watching television, and into the laundry room. Perhaps Gojo hadn’t washed them out of embarrassment. If it was you, you wouldn’t! At least if it was his underwear you were going to wash.

Checking the large basket and the washing machine multiple times, you couldn’t find them. When you opened the tumble dryer, they weren’t in it either.

You walked back to the common room, feet dragging and meek. Standing beside the large couch, you pretended to be checking the movie they were watching but actually, you were trying to muster up the courage to ask Gojo if he had seen your underwear.

Nanami glanced in your direction through his long fringe, although his cheeks were flushed pink, you couldn’t see it in the dim light. “Gojo,” he said, alerting the white-haired guy of your presence.

You wondered if it was obvious it was him that you wanted to talk to.

Gojo stared at Nanami and when the blonde pointed in your direction with a nod, he whipped his head around to meet your gaze.

“(name)!” he chirped, patting on the empty spot on the couch between him and Geto. “The movie has just started, come join us!”

With everyone looking at you now, you felt obliged to sit down.

Once you were seated, Gojo narrowed his eyes at Geto and put his arm around you. You flinched but didn’t have the courage to push him away, you ended up unwillingly accepting his warmth.

To Geto, what he did was an insult. It felt like it.

If he didn’t hurry and caught up with him, Gojo would have the upper hand.

“Are you okay?” Geto asked, scooted closer to you on the couch, using the question as an excuse to close the distance between the two of you. “I heard what happened, it must've been scary.”

You offered him a kind smile. “It was a terrifying experience but I’m fine… thanks to Gojo.”

Geto tried hard not to let his lips curl down to a frown but with the way Gojo was smirking at him to taunt him, it was difficult. “Yeah but don’t trust him too much,” he said, glowering at Gojo. “He can be such an airhead at times. He took all of your clothes today, didn’t he?”

That made you shift on your seat uncomfortably. You also remembered the reason why you had come here but you didn’t want to be accusatory about it. In simple words, you were just too scared to confront him. “He already apologized.”

Gojo’s face contorted into something vile as Geto feigned worry.

“You shouldn’t let him go off that easily. He will never learn from his mistakes if his actions don’t have consequences.”

“It was a small mistake, I’m not mad or anything…” Subconsciously you were leaning away from Gojo.

“Whatever you say,” Geto snickered.

Nanami sank deeper into the cushions of the couch in discomfort while you were completely unaware of the tension between the two guys.

~~~

“What are you trying to do?” Gojo groaned in anger. “We’re all in this together so what’s with trying to make me look bad? I told you that overly friendly guy thing would be the best choice, you can’t blame me for-”

“I wanted to see your reaction,” Geto replied, interrupting him. “It was a joke.”

“It wasn’t funny.” Gojo glared at him over his sunglasses. “I’m going to win her over, is that why you’re acting so childish about it?”

“You’re the one who’s childish,” Geto snapped, sitting up on his bed. “You’re trying to turn this into a competition. Again .”

“It’s more fun that way.”

Silence.

It was a long moment after Geto spoke. “If we’re going to turn this into a competition, then it should be fair to all of us.”

Finally calmed down, Gojo hummed in agreement. “How though?”

A smile spread across Geto’s face before he gave his friend a response.

~~~

“Rock paper scissors!”

Nanami won by picking paper. The other two groaned and complained as they were all walking back to the common room to meet up with you. The game was played in secret.

“Today, you’ll work with Nanami, he’s a pro at using cursed tools.” It wasn’t a lie but it wasn’t anything they had planned either.

Your day with the blonde went uneventful, you actually managed to learn some tricks about cursed tools.

~~~

You returned Geto his clothes.

The neatly folded clothes on top of his bed were inviting.

He reached for them. The clothes hadn’t been washed but it was as he wanted. He had assured you he would wash them himself.

Turning the sweatpants inside out, he brought the crotch area up to his face and inhaled deeply. His eyelashes fluttered at the pleasant smell that filled his lungs. So this was how you smelled. Your scent was faint but since you had worn it without any underwear, it had managed to stick onto the fabric, much to Geto’s joy.  

He couldn’t help but take another whiff as he pulled his pants down.

~~~

“Rock paper scissors!”

Geto won.

“Like this?” you asked worriedly, holding your arm out in an exorcism position. The flyhead in front of you was in a small cage, helpless and ready for you to exorcise it.

“No, you have to angle your hips right.” Geto placed his hands on your waist, getting awfully close and invading your space. “You have to keep your eyes on the curse at all times, no matter how much it might spur it on, you can wear sunglasses so it won’t notice your stare but not losing the sight of the enemy is important.” He pressed himself against you but you were listening to his soft voice, explaining how you could get better at this. “Try it.”

You nodded, aiming your cursed energy towards the flyhead.

The creature squealed and exploded into nothing.

Thrilled by your success, you turned your head around with an excited smile plastered on your face. “Did you see that?”

Geto offered you a kind smile, enough to reassure you that you did more than well. “You’re a natural.” He gave you a pat on the head, “Good job.” He then used his fingers to endearingly comb through your hair.

You leaned into his touch, ignoring how close he had gotten.

That made him smile, it wouldn’t be long until you were ready.

~~~

“Rock paper scissors!”

Geto won again, then Gojo, then Nanami, then Gojo again and it went on.

Easy get corrupted but still able to be as meekly cheerful as the first day, you were enough to charm all of them.

One of them a little more than the other two. Enough to make him care about you.

“I’m out.”

Both Gojo and Geto stared at Nanami with wide eyes.

“This eaaarly?” The white-haired one whined, stretching the word out. He was buzzed out of his mind. Cheap beer like this hit him faster than the better quality ones.

“You sure?” This time Geto wasn’t going to say anything to convince him not to drop out of the competition. Nanami leaving meant there would be a higher chance for him to corrupt you for the day.

The blonde in question nodded.

“You’re gonna miss ooooout her cuuutee fidgeting when you touch her waist!” Gojo was giggling, remembering how sensitive you were.

Geto chuckled, a smile appearing on his face. “The way she gets teary when you push her a little too much is the cutest.”

“Nooo, the way she starts stuttering when you act friendly is cute, her face as if she’s ready to cry is sexy. Her brows furrow and she looks at you like she’s begging for you to stop but-”

“She’s too pathetic to speak up!” The duo said it in unison and started laughing while high-fiving each other for their similar thinking.

Nanami took a sip from his beer and ignored them. This was for the best. He was going to continue ignoring it.

Ignorance was bliss.

~~~

“We’re out of necessities,” Nanami informed everyone in the common room.

Gojo tore his eyes away from the television and hung off the back of the coach to look at Nanami. “Already?”

“I can go and buy them if you gave me a list?” You were quick to pipe up.

Geto put his hand on top of your head and ruffled your hair, “You can’t carry all that, we’ll do it.”

“Well, why don’t I go with one of you?” There it was, the meek tone. Something was going on.

“Why? Do you need something specific?” Gojo sat back on the couch, returning his attention to the Saturday morning comedy sketches.

“Y-yeah.” Fidgeting with your fingers you looked down at your lap.

“You can put whatever you need into the list and we’ll buy it,” Geto answered but his true intention was to see how flustered you could get over a simple task being done for you. He could or rather anyone could easily guess what this was all about. They had been living with Shoko for over three years now, who unlike you wasn’t shy about anything.

Nanami who had been pouring out coffee for himself noticed how your shoulders slackened in defeat. Although he had promised to stay out of their game, he spoke without thinking. “We can go together.”

As soon as he said that both Gojo and Geto glowered at him from the corner of their eyes.

You whipped your head around with an innocent smile, “That’s so kind of you! Thank you, Nanami!”

“We can all go,” Geto replied.

“It’d be too crowded.” You got up from the couch to walk over where Nanami was standing to talk about if you should get ready now or later.

An imaginary lightbulb lit up over Gojo’s head. “Let’s decide who’s gonna go by rock paper scissors.”

“Nanami just said he’d go with me-”

“He wants to avoid his cleaning duty. We’re supposed to do the cleaning today since Shoko is coming back tomorrow.” Geto backed Gojo up instantaneously. So sly.

Three of them held their fists up from where they were and almost as if they’d done it a million times, they chose their gesture without even saying anything.

You looked at each gesture and your eyes landed on the winner.

“Write what you two personally need on a list, I’ll go grab my wallet.” Geto got up from the couch and beckoned you to follow him.

The two of you took the bus to the store and split up with separate baskets to do the shopping. You finished quick, put enough sanitary pads that would last you until the next month into the basket, and hid them under a bunch of other things so Geto wouldn’t see it.

You found Geto by the cleaning aisle.

“Done?” he asked, noticing your full basket.

“Yeah.”

“That was quick.” Geto grinned, “I have a couple of things left, after that, I’m done as well.”

“Can we go to the new cafe that opened down the street?” you asked cutely as you followed him to the next aisle in the grocery store.

He nodded in response without looking at you.

As he turned into the next aisle, which happened to be where the hygiene products were, you continued following him. He walked past the toothbrushes, shampoos, and colognes.

You proceeded to follow him until he abruptly stopped.

He put his basket down and inspected the products on the shelves.

Blood rushed to your cheeks when you saw what he was planning to buy. “Ah.” It was a noise you made out of surprise, nothing more. You were completely flushed, dizzy from embarrassment as Geto stared down at you with a packet in his hand.

Extra thin for ultra pleasure.

XL.

Prelubed.

“You okay?” he asked, dropping the packet into his basket.

He was a guy, yeah, he was a man. This was normal. Yeah, he had a-

Your brain wasn’t working.

You shook your head without meaning to. “I-I forgot to buy something.” Not letting him say anything else, you rushed out of the aisle, omitting the way he was grinning.

After the two of you paid for the stuff, you started walking to the cafe together. You were lucky to have Geto by your side since he carried more bags than you ever could. He wouldn’t let you carry anything either so you ended up carrying the toilet papers.

Holding the door open for him, you walked inside the cafe. The employees behind the counter greeted you, smiling brightly.

“I’ll take normal coffee, black, no sugar or milk.” With that, he quietly walked to the furthest end of the shop by the large windows. Apparently, you were the one who was going to order.

You walked up to the employee who was waiting for you to order, you decided to try out their signature drink and ordered filter coffee for Geto. After getting your drinks on a tray, you made your way down to the table he sat, placing the tray carefully down.

Plopping down on the chair, you let out an exaggerated sigh, “I’m exhausted.”

“You didn’t do any of the heavy lifting, so you don’t get to complain,” he replied, taking his coffee from the tray.

You pouted your lips as you reached for your own drink. It got quiet as he looked out of the window, taking small sips of his coffee and enjoying the view. You on the other hand were fidgety. Mind still going back to recall what he had bought.

Well, he was handsome and charming. Geto clearly had a girlfriend. But… you hadn’t seen him with any other girl. What if it was Shoko?

Then it hit you. Shoko’s words she told you when you first arrived at the campus. It all started to make sense, she was trying to scare you so you wouldn’t make a move on his boyfriend.

You were curious.

Curiosity killed the cat.

“I-I didn’t know you had a girlfriend,” you said, trying to hide your blushing cheeks behind the straw of your drink.

“What?” he chuckled and put his drink back on the tray.

Dumbfounded by his response you stuttered. “Your g-girlfriend.”

“My what?” He had heard you right but he needed to see you get flustered but when you stayed quiet he continued. “I don’t have a girlfriend.”

“I-I’m only asking because you bought-” your voice became faint, “ -that… ”

“The condoms?” This time he leaned forward on the table, raising a brow at you. “Do I need to have a girlfriend to buy condoms?”

“Keep your voice down,” you hushed him, your brain was turning into mush from shame and embarrassment, you couldn’t even think straight. “Please.”

“Huh? Why? We’re the only ones here.” He tilted his head to try meeting your eyes but you wouldn’t look at him. “Besides, why are you so why about this? Didn’t you and your boyfriend go out to buy one of these at some point?”

A silent thud made you look down at the table. There it was, in broad daylight, anyone could see it.

You were going to faint.

“Hmm?” Geto was waiting for an answer.

“No,” you said, head spinning from embarrassment, you had never felt like this before. You needed to go home. It was too overwhelming. There was this other thing bubbling in your stomach, your face was getting heated and your nails were digging into your palms.

That was anger. Rage.

“I don’t believe you. Haven’t your boyfriends ever-”

“I never had one.” For the first time in your whole life, you raised your voice.  

“Never?” Geto was more shocked at the revelation, not too surprised at your change of demeanor.  “That’s a shame.” Awe tingled in his soft voice.

You didn’t say anything.

Geto sighed, relenting quietly but his grin didn’t falter. “Okay,” he said, taking the condom packet from the table and putting it back in his pocket. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

“It doesn’t sound genuine,” you spoke firmly. "Besides, you were the one to tell me not to forgive tactlessness. Isn’t it ironic?” Your tone had changed, you were speaking through your teeth, anger had taken over you.

Oh, this feisty side of you… he wanted to see how it would break.

“You think so?” A thoughtful yet mocking humming noise left him. “Aren’t you the one overreacting? All I did was to show you something I bought. You were the one asking about it. Shouldn’t it be me who should be upset with you?”

Silence.

“If you want to believe it’s my fault, I’ll let you think that way but don’t go blaming others for corrupting your virtue like a prude. It’s annoying and harmful. If you said those words to Satoru, he’d be devastated. So, be a good girl and grow up.”

Your chest tightened, no matter how much you inhaled no air was reaching your lungs. The panic had started settling in but it was all internal. You had put the facade back on, desperately trying to hold back your tears.

What he said was true. That was why it hurt so much.

“Ah, let’s head back,” he said, getting up from his seat. “It’s getting late.”

You nodded languidly, leaving your still full drink on the tray and shuffling after Geto with glossy eyes.

The guilt you felt was sublime, no words would be enough to describe it.

~~~

“She’s never had a boyfriend?” Gojo was baffled by the fact. “Does that-”

“Most likely,” Geto answered without needing to hear his question.

The two of them exchanged a competitive look with each other before they balled their good hands in fists.

“Rock paper scissors!”

~~~

There was a knock on your door. You pulled the sheets over your head instead of answering it. You hadn’t joined the boys for dinner, there was no way you could look them in the eye after what had happened today.

“We’re going to have drinks in Nanami’s room.” It was Geto. “I want you to join us.”

You pressed your face harder on the pillow.

“(name)?”

Maybe it was better if you answered the door before he burst into your room, which was unlikely since it was Geto. Gojo would have but Geto… no.

You walked to the door and falteringly opened it.

On the other side, Geto had a hand on your door frame, leaning forward.

Your eyes met but you immediately averted your gaze in shame. An apology was the first thing you needed to do. “I’m sorry.”

He scoffed, “Why are you apologizing?”

“For saying all those mean things.”

Geto leaned further down and used his free hand to pat on your head, ruffling your hair. “Don’t overthink it. I shouldn’t have teased you that much.”

The feeling of his warm, calloused hand on your head was reassuring, it made you regret saying those words to him even more. He had been nothing but kind to you.

“I’m so sorry, I must be so annoying and weak.” You lifted your head to look at him, eyes glossy and cheeks tinted. Your lower lip was trembling as your eyes were acutely watching him, waiting for a response.

Unable to resist your face in despair, Geto smiled. His hand cupped your cheek, caressing it softly with his thumb. “Don’t apologize. You’re a girl who’s desperately working hard to improve herself. There’s no way I could ever dislike you.”

“You’re not upset?”

“Why would I be?” His hand slid down along your jaw stopping when his thumb was hovering over the corner of your lip. He ran his thumb on your lip. “You’re such a sweet girl, it’s impossible staying mad at you. You’re adorable.”

Petrified, you stared into his eyes. The half-lidded eyes were hazy with an emotion you had never seen on anyone before. He was leaning closer towards your face all the while your heart was hammering inside your ribcage.

He was going to kiss you.

Instinctively, you closed your eyes, puckering your lips.

Geto watched your eyelashes flutter and cheeks flush with dark amusement before retrieving his hand from your face.

“Shall we go?”

His question made you open your eyes and instantly your cheeks flushed harder. Ahh, how embarrassing! You really thought he was going to kiss you.

You walked out of your room and closed the door to follow Geto downstairs to Nanami’s room.

Gojo’s chipper voice filled the empty hallway before you arrived in front of the room. Geto opened the door for you, gesturing you to walk inside first.

Nanami’s room was cleaner than yours, it was neatly organized and decorated but it reeked of cigarette smoke.

“Ahh, (name)! You came!!” Gojo quickly waved at you and patted on the bed for you to take the space next to him. “Come sit with me!”

Nanami glanced at you over his shoulder but didn’t do much other than bow his head slightly to greet you as he was smoking.

Decidedly, you took a step to join Gojo but a hand on your shoulder stopped you.

Geto led you to where Nanami was smoking and instructed you to sit down beside him on the floor. “Do you smoke?”

“Um… No.”

“Let’s not make her smoke,” Nanami suddenly said when he noticed Geto was bringing his own cigarette pack out.

“He’s right! She’ll reek of cigarettes!” Gojo was practically yelling, from the way his cheeks were tinted bright red, you could tell that he had been drinking. He was slurring most of his words.

“It was merely a question,” Geto sighed, putting a cigarette between his lips to light it.

Nanami pointed at the large plastic bag in the middle of the floor and spoke to you. “These are for everyone, you can take one if you want.”

With his remark, you crawled towards the middle and checked inside the bag. There was beer and a large bottle of wine along with a bunch of cigarette packs in it. “A-are we allowed to drink these on campus?”

“What? You’re gonna rat on us?” Gojo barked out a laugh.

“No,” you mumbled and reached for the wine bottle. “C-can I have this?”

“The whole thing?” Geto raised a brow, “Didn’t you learn to share?”

“Not the entire bottle, I just wanna try it.” You were too meek again, they had all figured you out enough to know what that meant.

“Don’t tell me…” Gojo was pointing a finger at you and grinning. “You’ve never tried alcohol before?”

“I never had the chance.”

You were just getting better the more they learned about you.

Nanami stubbed out the remaining of his cigarette. “Try not to drink too much on your first time.”

Geto glared at Nanami, the wine was there for you specifically. Higher the percentage, the bigger the chances of you letting your guard down.

When you made a move to put the bottle back in the bag to get a can of beer instead, Geto encouraged you to drink it. “We’ll all drink some from the bottle, don’t worry about drinking too much. We’re here with you to prevent that.”

Lies, lies, lies.

The way your eyes sparkled with appreciation when you looked at him as you were unaware of his intentions, was all too innocent. Pure as snow.

You opened the bottle and took a sip, grimacing right after. All of them laughed, making jokes about their first times and chatting about all of the other things until there was a lull in the conversation.

The silence was often filled by Gojo’s horrendous singing or your tipsy giggling, trying to tell a story and being unable to finish it because of how hard you were laughing in between each word.

“So,” Geto started, taking a long drag of his cigarette. “Satoru, when did you have your first kiss?” he asked as if he didn’t know every detail.

Gojo hummed in thought, pretending to try to remember. “I don’t know, maybe when I was twelve or fourteen.” There was a pause before he asked the same question to his friend, almost sheepishly. “When did you have yours, Suguru?”

“I was also fourteen if I remember it right.” Geto put his cigarette down on the ashtray to take a sip from his beer. “Nanami-”

“No.” Nanami didn’t pay attention to any of you and lit up another cigarette.

“Okay.” Geto rolled his eyes before they landed on you. “(name), what about you?”

“That’s… a secret.” You pressed your forefinger against your lips, shushing with a giggle.

“We’re all friends here,” Geto replied, biting back a laugh. “Friends don’t keep secrets from each other, right?”

His words made you look up to the ceiling to think for a long moment. Deciding that he was right, you bobbed your head. “Yes.”

“Yes to what?” Gojo chuckled, he was hanging off upside-down from the bed, pouting while you were thinking and thinking and thinking.

“I’ve never kissed anyone before~” you stretched the word out, barely managing to keep your eyes open. The bottle of wine in your hand was half empty. It wasn’t really a surprise but hearing you say it out loud when you were too shy to speak up your mind was purely erotic.

“Never ever?” Gojo was trying to drink his own beer upside-down.

You shook your head but then started nodding. “Ahh, sooo confusing! I really didn’t have my first kiss. Like ever.”

“That’s a lie, it must be! You’re very friendly.” Gojo sighed his next words, “All the boys must love you.”

Starting to fidgeting with fingers on your lap you shook your head to deny. “I’m not popular amongst boys. Not popular at all with anyone since I’m not that extrovert or pretty.”

“Perhaps you haven’t noticed the attention,” Geto went on to say. “You’re prettier than you think.”

Cheeks flushing, you lifted your gaze to meet his. “You’re just saying that.”

“Have I ever lied to you?” Geto chuckled, “As adorable you are, you’re also the nicest girl I’ve ever met.”

You beamed at him, eyes twinkling like stars. “Y-You really think so?”

“Yes, you’re soo cute!” Gojo joined, crawling towards you. “You’re gorgeous!”

“Aside from your stunning looks, you’re quite talented. Your cursed technique has a promising future and you’re able to learn quickly to improve yourself.” Geto put a hand on his face, covering the lower half of his face. “Hardworking and determined to become a special grade sorcerer, it’s inspiring if not admirable.”

Being bombarded with compliments made you feel like you were on the clouds. The validation you didn’t get from your own family past forgotten, you got lost in the sweetness of their words.

It all made you feel special.

“I’m so happy I came here, it feels like I belong here with you guys. I feel at home.” You started fiddling with the sticker on the wine bottle. “I’m very lucky to have you guys as my friends.”

Gojo pouted his lips and jumped towards you with his arms open. He wrapped them around you, rocking side to side. “You’re soooo adorable! How are you soo cute? I wanna eat you up, you’re like the cutest thing ever! Argh, what did I do to ever deserve you?”

Caught off guard, you hesitantly wrapped your arms around him. “I should be the one saying that.”

Pulling himself back, Gojo turned to Geto, “We should kiss her! Her first kiss should be with people who treasure her deeply. It’s such a sweet thing and as friends, it’s our duty to make that happen!”

“R-really?” Despite what he was saying was outrageous, you were giggling, eyes on him. Looking at him like he meant the world to you.

Innocence being corrupted. Poetic.

“She wouldn’t be comfortable doing that sort of stuff, Satoru. (name) is timid, don’t tease her.”

“I’m not teasing her!” Gojo looked down at you between his arms and blushed bright red, “I mean, I’d kiss her, wouldn’t ya?”

Nanami rolled his eyes, he had heard them rehearse this a million times and it still managed to make him feel the secondhand embarrassment and additionally physically make him grimace.

Nonetheless, it seemed to work for you. Time stopped moving for you, cheeks flushed and mouth agape, your eyes were on Geto, eagerly waiting for his answer.

Stubbing out his cigarette, he averted his gaze. “I would.”

“Nanami,” Gojo called next. “Would you kiss her?”

Nanami stared at the white-haired idiot, he had to be kidding. It was clear as day that they were trying to drag him back into the game.

“Nanami has the most experience between all of us,” Geto lied, now unable to hide his smirk. “You should kiss him, (name).”

This time, you were blushing faintly, eyes blinking slowly with a charming smile on your face. All of those were directed at Nanami and the longing look on your face was enough to make his breath hitch.

“Ah, he’s blushing!” Gojo pointed out with a laugh. “This might be the first time I’m seeing him blush!”

Of course, he would blush from seeing you the way they described you for the first time. Oh, so timid and innocent, begging to be ravished.

“Who do ya want your first kiss to be with, (name)?” Gojo asked softly, his voice coaxing you into safety. They were all your friends, they wanted to help you. They loved you. You knew that, right?

“I don’t know.” Your speech was slurred, the alcohol was starting to hit you harder now.

Gojo squeezed your cheeks together until your lips puckered and turned your face for Nanami to see. “She has such kissable lips, don’t ya think?”

Nanami was trying his best to hold his composure, not wanting to let himself lose control.

“If you don’t kiss her, I most certainly will take her first kiss.” Gojo pressed his lips on your temple, giving you a chaste kiss before moving to whisper in your ear. “I love you so much, so pretty and gullible. So adorable. I don’t wanna share you with anyone else.”

You tilted your head in delight at his words, letting his lips brush against your neck.

How easy to please!

Gojo smiled into your skin, pressing another kiss on your neck.

A cute noise left your lips.

Nanami twitched at the noise and Geto noticed it.

“You should take over before he eats her up,” he said with an amused grin.

Nanami shook his head but he was still unable to tear his eyes away from Gojo planting kisses on your neck and you squirming in pleasure in his arms.

He put an arm around your waist, pulling you a lot closer. You pulled your leg up on his leg to turn your torso towards him.

“What should we do, hmm?” he murmured, his eyes hazy behind his sunglasses. “Nanami doesn’t wanna kiss you but I do…”

Nanami couldn’t bring himself to look away from you. He wanted to jump on you, taking you right here and now as the two idiots watched in awe. Quickly he suppressed the fantasy with his own free will.

Gojo leaned down and you closed your eyes shut, puckering your lips to patiently wait for the kiss.

Nothing mattered anymore.

He put one hand on your waist, the other cupping your cheek as his lips pressed against yours. Your heart was beating rapidly, enough to make you conscious of everything your body was going through. The hand on your waist was hot against your skin and the lips pressing against yours… let heavenly.

You thought that was it. A simple kiss. You didn’t know you could kiss someone more than just pressing your lips against each other but Gojo took it further.

His lips moved harsh against yours, biting and sucking your bottom lip. His hand on your cheek slid to the back of your head and he grabbed a chunk of your hair. Once you opened your mouth to protest, he snaked his tongue inside.

You clutched on his shirt, tears dwelling in your eyes as you involuntarily tasted the bitter taste of beer on his tongue.

The hand on your waist moved to press on the small of your back to pull you in his lap. You moaned into the kiss, arching your back. He knew that was your weak spot, Nanami had told him. He also knew that your inner thigh-

You shrieked when another hand went to your inner thighs.

Breaking the kiss, you looked at Geto in surprise. He took the opportunity to use his free hand to pull you back by your hair and press his lips on yours.

Gojo made a small noise to protest but then turned the situation to his own advantage. His hands went to your waist, then up, up, and up until his thumbs reached to the swell of your breasts.

You opened your mouth in panic but it only helped Geto to force his tongue down your throat. The slick muscle twirled around your own tongue and you started to get dizzy from the taste of tobacco coming from him.

Gojo cupped your tits over your pajama top before starting to knead the supple flesh, you moved your hips subconsciously. Geto put a hand on your hip to move your hips, grinding you on Gojo’s knee. “That’s erotic, (name). I thought you never had a boyfriend before… You’re seducing us, aren’t you?”

Your cheeks flushed but you couldn’t give him an answer as Geto was busy ravishing your mouth with his tongue to savor your taste.

Finally, Geto pulled himself back, a small strand of saliva connecting your lips together broke apart as he smiled looking at your bruised lips.

Like Gojo had said, Geto’s smile was beautiful. A sight to relish. You were grateful to be the reason for his gorgeous smile.

“She’s definitely seducing us. Look at her.” Geto cocked his head to the side, staring down at you with a mocking expression on his face.

“I’m not…”

“You are,” Gojo joined, teasing you was too fun. “You were humping my leg ya know.”

“T-that was Geto-”

“Don’t lie.” Geto’s hand on your hips slid down between your legs and you slouched forward. You let out a moan when he pressed his fingers on your slit over the pajama pants as if he knew exactly where it was. You felt the wetness soaking your pants and leaving an icky feeling. You were about to ask him why he did that but he spoke, saying things that were so not true. “Only little sluts get this wet enough to soak their pants entirely.”

Gojo gasped dramatically. “You’re such a liar! I thought you were an innocent little girl.”

“I’m not…”

“So you’re not an innocent little girl?” Geto moved his fingers side to side, toying with your clothed clit as he pressed himself against you.

“Noo… I didn’t mean it that way…” Legs already shaking, only later you felt something firm and thick pressing on the cleft of your ass.

“You’re moving your hips, begging for it. I’m seeing it with my own two eyes! Having your first kiss must’ve made ya into a slut… You want it, don’t ya?”

You were blushing faintly, eyes blinking slowly while you looked up at Gojo. This was exactly what you wanted. Right? You had to be hoping for it if you were moving your hips like Gojo said. You had become a slut from having your first kiss.

“You cryin’?” Gojo was smirking.

“No?” Confused as to why he asked it, a purposeful grind of Geto’s hips on your ass made your mouth gape open. He was mimicking the movement of fucking you.

“So you like Suguru?”

Of course, he was such a gentleman… most of the time. He was kind and helpful. He always helped you train and looked out for you, giving you the best advice. You trusted him with your life.

“Hmm?” Gojo wasn’t about to repeat himself.

“I like him.”

Geto smirked and gestured with his head for Gojo to move away. With a sigh, the latter crawled away from you as Geto lifted you by your armpits to turn you to face him on his lap.

Your eyes were clouded with lust and your mind slurred with alcohol.

“You’re my little pipsqueak,” he said, caressing your cheek.

A nod.

“I’m going to take your innocence.”

Another nod.

Grinning, he grabbed the hem of your pajama top, lifting it up to your breasts and over your head. You lifted your arms above to help him get rid of the shirt. Since you hadn’t been wearing a bra, your tits bounced free.

Three pairs of eyes were on your bare chest, it made you blush and you covered yourself.

“We’re friends,” Geto assured, grabbing your wrist. “Friends don’t keep secrets from each other, remember?”

You let him pull your arms away from your chest and with a gorgeous smile, Geto placed his hands on your tits, rolling one nipple between his knuckles. He leaned forward to take your other tit in his mouth, causing you to moan audibly.

Gojo wasn’t shy to pull his pants down unlike Nanami who was still desperately trying to act like he was better than them. He wouldn’t stoop low like them. He wouldn’t. He knew he wouldn’t. But then why was he palming himself through his pants?

“Geto…”

“Suguru,” he told you, planting warm kisses on your chest.

“Suguru,” you repeated, gasping as he gently laid you down on the tatami floor.

Stunned, Nanami was unable to say anything as his upperclassman climbed on top of you on the floor of his room. He had told them to do whatever they were going to do anywhere but here. He had told them and Gojo-

“Yo, Nanami,” the guy in question spoke. “Wanna take her oral virginity?”

“What are you talking about?” This was all too much, he didn’t know anything about this.

“Ah, Geto’s taking her virginity cause I lost and he told me to decide whether to let you take her ass virginity or not but I’m feeling greedy, ya take her mouth.”

“I’m… I’m not a part of this!” Nanami’s voice was suppressed by your moan when Geto pinched your nipple. His cheeks tinted pink and he pulled his shirt down to cover his growing bulge.

“You are,” Gojo said, unashamedly spitting in his hand and wrapping it around the base of his cock while his eyes were on you. “I’ve seen ya jerk it off to her. With my own six eyes.”

Although the older one wasn’t looking at him, the mocking tone slapped Nanami in the face. At that moment he felt exposed. Gojo knew. He knew.

He knew how behind closed doors he had your panties scrunched in his hand, inhaling them deeply and jerking off to the picture Geto had emailed him. The low-quality photo had given him such good quality fantasies about you. But he wouldn’t act on them, he wasn’t like them.

He wasn’t-

“Suguru, wait,” you whined when he grabbed the waistband of your pajama pants.

“Nope, not waiting~” He pulled them down, and despite your protests, you lifted your hips to help him. Hooking his fingers into your panties, he peeled them down your legs agonizingly slowly.

(Without you seeing, he tossed them towards his friend who gratefully took them and wrapped them around his cock for extra friction.)

Immediately, you pressed your thighs together to cover your bare pussy. “I-I changed my mind.” Your cheeks were burning and your head was starting to spin. It was all happening too fast for your mind to catch up. “It’s so embarrassing.”

“I told you, we are all friends. Don’t you have any guy friends? This kind of stuff is normal between friends.” Geto’s calming tone was back, lulling you back into safety, telling you that it was all fine. “I’m going to be your first so that you’ll know exactly what to do next time.” There was a long pause and he pretended to frown, feigning being hurt. “I can stop if you want me to.”

Not wanting to disappoint him and fail this ritual of friendship, you shook your head. “N-no. I-I want this.”

Geto spread your legs and grabbed you by your ankles to pull you flush against his hips. “I want you too, pipsqueak.” A hand moved to palm himself through his pants, your eyes followed, watching him grab his bulge to show you how big he actually was.

Flustered, you averted your gaze but came face to face with something even more explicitly naughty.

Gojo’s pants were down to his thighs, enough to expose his cock. You saw his hand moving rapidly up and down on his cock with your panties around it, as he noticed your stare he quickened his hand.

“You shouldn’t look at some other guy when you’re doing it with me.” Geto put a hand on your cheek to turn your head to face him. Although you wanted to keep your eyes focused on his face, your gaze dropped onto his cock released from his pants.

Before you could get flustered over it, Geto cupped your pussy using a hand. His thumb grazed over your sensitive numb and two of his digits slid easily inside. You let out a sharp gasp, toes curling.

Ahh, this was why virgins were the best, awfully sensitive and obedient. The way they didn’t know what was being done to them was the best. Shy girls were the best. Geto loved fucking timid girls who trusted him with their whole life. Corrupting them, making them believe he loved them, and taking their innocence. You were his dark fantasy come alive as if you were made for him and him only.

However, Geto wasn’t that selfish. He could share. Sometimes.

“You’re soaking wet.”

“Don’t say that…”

“Why not?” Smiling he slid his fingers out of you and held them up to your face. Clear fluid was covering them from tip to base. He separated the digits and small strands of the fluids connecting his fingers thinned before splitting apart. “It’s the truth.” He opened his mouth, taking the digits in his mouth to lick your juices as you watched in shock. A low hum emerged from him as he contentedly licked his lips. “You taste sweeter than any candy.”

“Stooop,” you were giggling now, too flustered from his mellow words.

Even though he would love to tease you for hours and take all of your firsts for himself, Geto had to move on. He could hear Gojo grumbling under his breath aside from him jerking off. Also, there was the blonde one.

Geto glanced over his shoulder to steal a quick look at what Nanami was doing.

The second-year was watching intently. Waiting for his turn.

That made Geto chuckle and he turned to you, giving you all of his attention once again. He wrapped a hand around the base of his cock, giving it a simple pump. Though he wanted to stop at that thanks to his spit and the remaining of your juices on his hand, it helped his hand move smoothly, making him want to jerk himself until he came.

He quickly snapped out of it, positioning himself between your legs and dragging the tip of his cock along your folds before tapping lightly.

You murmured something.

“Hmm?”

“T-the condom,” you reminded shyly.

“It’s your first time, right?” he asked, almost too impatiently.

“Y-yes.”

“You’re completely safe on your first time.”

With that he shoved his entire length inside your virgin cunt, tearing your hymen. Both of you moaned for different reasons.

He slumped forward as your virgin walls pulsated around his cock, stretching around his girth and taking the shape of him.

“It hurts,” you mewled, grabbing onto his bicep. “Suguru, it hurts.” Tears welled up in your eyes and seeing that made Geto grow bigger inside of you. He tentatively pulled his hips back and pushed himself up from the floor to look at between your bodies.

His eyes were on the small amount of blood on his cock and dripping from your hole, staining the floor under you.

A sickeningly excited smile spread across his face and he slammed his hips into yours, making you cry out in pain. He planted both of his hands on the floor, each side of your head to gain more control over his pace, and started fucking you frantically.

Gojo let out a breathy laugh and tried matching his pace o his friend’s pace of fucking you. He wasn’t going to last long but Geto seemed like he was going to last longer.

Your hands went to his shoulders, pulling him closer rather than pushing him. He knew you needed the closure. This was something lovers did with each other and Geto wanted to teach you all of it. Definitely not because fucking timid and innocent girls was his fetish.

His thrusts were like an animal in heat, desperately and frenziedly hammering into your pussy. Each time his balls slapped against your ass you let out a shaky moan, the pain now a faint memory.

Your narrow entrance and virgin walls clamping on his cock were heavenly. Every time he moved, your pussy throbbed, clenching around him and you let out those adorable moans he was desperate to hear. He couldn’t stop moving his hips, it was impossible.

“Am I doing good?” you asked, gasping sharply between each word.

Innocent, so innocent.

Geto completely lost himself.

He grabbed the back of your knee and pushed both legs until he could mount you entirely.

In this position he was going so deep, it made your eyelashes flutter and you lost your vision for a moment.

His cock continued stroking your gummy insides while he thrust in your cunt with a vigorous pace but he couldn’t last long because of your virgin walls squeezing around him like you were trying to milk him dry.

He managed to steal a few more thrusts before his cock started twitching inside you. Geto pushed himself balls deep inside you and the tip of his cock kissed your cervix, making your toes curl as his cock spurted thick ropes of cum inside your womb, filling your tummy.

You could feel his seed fill your womb and overflow, as well as the slight twitch of his balls on your skin. It made you bite your lip, your face was wet with tears and possibly snot. However, it didn’t stop Geto from leaning down to kiss you while he continued fucking his cum into you.

Once he broke the kiss, you got to get a good look at his handsome face. His hair was a mess, his bun had mostly come undone and small strands were sticking to his forehead from sweat.

Before the two of you could enjoy the afterglow or catch your breaths, you heard Gojo clear his throat.

Suddenly, shame overflowed all of your senses. Geto on the other hand was unphased, he pulled out of you to watch his cum ooze out from your pussy with amusement. He then whipped his head around to glare at Gojo. “Can’t you stop breathing so hard and moaning when you’re jerking off? I don’t wanna hear any of that when I’m fucking.”

The breaking of the character was fine. You were still lost in your own thoughts and unable to comprehend anything other than how you had lost your virginity to some ‘bad boy’ who was only kind to you. You laid on the floor, exhausted and stuck in your mind.

Gojo laughed, “Nanami, you’re seeing this? I told you he gets sooo mad when you do it, heheh”

“You’re speaking too bravely for someone who has his dick out.” Geto sat on the tatami floor, furrowing his eyebrows.

“What? Ya gonna suck it?”

“I will kill you,” he hissed.

The two were arguing with each other when Nanami got up from where he was sitting and walked over to you.

“Ah.” Gojo was smirking, staring at the tent on the blonde one’s pants. “He’s going at it.”

Geto hummed approvingly.

Nanami crouched next to your head, staring at your bare chest up close. You were gorgeous, your skin looked so soft and your face stained with tears…

He had been trying and trying and trying to hold back but you were too stunning. Seeing you from their perspectives had enchanted him, arousing him to the point of being unable to think clearly.

“Nanami?”

Your eyes were clouded with lust and he could see his own reflection in them. Right now, you needed him and he was more than willing to provide.

Nanami placed a hand on your cheek and caressed the soft skin before leaning in for a kiss. You didn’t refuse, accepting his lips pressing against yours. You tried moving them like Geto had done with you but Nanami’s kiss… It was more gentle yet more possessive. He pushed his tongue inside to twirl your tongues together, to make sure you remembered his taste for a lifetime as he desperately tried savoring yours.

Placing one hand on your tit to knead the soft flesh, he used his other hand to pull down his pants, releasing his aching cock free. As soon as his cock was out, he grabbed your hand and guided it to his exposed cock.

Your eyes widened and you pulled your hand back, breaking the kiss.

“Nanami, you can’t-”

“You are friends, right?” Gojo interrupted, appearing behind Nanami.

It was quiet for a moment before you nodded ever so hesitantly and looked at Nanami, attempting to avoid looking at his cock hovering over your face.

“Nanami wants you to be his first.” Gojo grinned down at you, pushing his sunglasses up to his hair.

“F-first? His-”

Nanami flushed bright red at the revelation and you found yourself blushing as well.

“You should help him out like Suguru did to you! That’s what friends are for!” Gojo’s encouraging words and the power of friendship talk were too much, Nanami almost went limp until Gojo grabbed your hand and guided it back to Nanami’s cock. “Here, I’ll help you.”

Both of you flinched at the intimate skin contact.

Gojo assisted your hand to wrap around the base and slide it up slowly towards the tip glistening with precum. You didn’t need to use your spit to get him nice and slick as his own precum was more than enough. Your classmate made you pull the thin skin towards the tip down to expose the pink tip of the blonde one’s cock whose shoulders tensed in response. “He seems to be sensitive around the tip. You should use your mouth and tease the tip, (name)! On second thought, he would love it if you let him use your mouth!”

All you did was to open your mouth to approve.

Oh, so obedient.

Nanami on the other hand was being torn apart.

He was better than this. He was a good person. He wouldn’t be the type of person to take advantage of some dumb girl to indulge in his own fantasies and-

“Here, lemme help, Nanami.”

Putting his hands on the younger one’s hips, Gojo pushed Nanami forward into your mouth. Your teeth barely grazed against the tip and he moaned at the sensation of your warm mouth. He couldn’t even get angry at Gojo.

Geto sat on the other side of you and instructed you to move closer to Nanami so you could take him in your mouth completely. He placed a hand on the back of your head and helped you bob your head, giving you praises.

Gojo didn’t need to move Nanami’s hips anymore, the blonde one was too lost in pleasure to hesitate or think about his nonexistent pride.

With you being on your hands and knees as you were giving Nanami a blowjob, Geto gave Gojo a thumb up, telling him everything was good to go.

Finally, getting his turn, Gojo slowly crawled behind you like a predator about to bounce on its unaware prey. He spat in his palm and started jerking himself off to get hard again, he had lost count of how many times he had come when Geto was devouring your cunt but he could go on until the morning.

“Arch your back, pipsqueak.”

Complying Geto’s words, you lifted your ass up in the air.

“Now, Gojo’s going to do something really naughty. Be careful not to bite Nanami.”

You made a noise in protest but Nanami silenced you with a sudden thrust of his hips. The tip of his cock grazed the back of your throat, making you gag. Which worked in his favor because now he could shove his cock further down your throat thanks to your tongue laying flat and jaw unclenched.

Gojo put a hand on your ass cheek and spread it, groping the soft flesh before drooling over your hole.

A wave of panic washed over you and you moved your hips to get away. Gojo had you exactly where he wanted though, he pushed two digits inside and stretched them slowly in a scissoring motion. He was breathing heavily while rubbing his cock at the display of you getting skullfucked and ass being played with by him.  

You started squirming, letting out panicked noises that were being muffled by Nanami’s cock in your mouth. The blonde was going insane by your throat clenching around him. His hips slammed into your face, shoving his cock down and down and down until your nose met the blonde hair on the base.

A cough, a gag, and suddenly your face was turning blue. Nanami had a sick expression on his face and the other two were too busy to notice your current problem of not being able to breathe.

“Satoru, stop making gross noises.”

“I can’t help it, she’s so erotic.” He gasped, incapable of holding another second back. He pressed the tip of his cock on your entrance and slowly pushed it inside.

Nanami grabbed a chunk of your hair and started fucking your face. He couldn’t stop thrusting inside your mouth and ravishing you. Making you his own cockslut.

Gojo was still trying to push himself inside you but you were just so tight.

“Shouldn’t you prepare her a little more?” Geto hid a laugh behind his hand.

“I like it tight,” Gojo replied, placing his hands on your hips to pull you towards himself as he was pushing into you.

Not letting you rest, Gojo pulled his hips back, only to suddenly slam into you until almost his entire length was inside. Gojo’s fun was cut short though, as Nanami was choking you with his cock, your walls clenched around Gojo’s cock enough to make him cum instantly.

Geto still hadn’t noticed your face turning blue and had thought his friend just couldn’t hold back anymore. He burst into laughter, making fun of him

The vibrations coming from your throat while you were trying to scream were too much for Nanami to handle. His cock twitched inside your throat moments before he came down your throat. He pulled out and rested his cock on your lips as the tip was still spurting his creamy seed.

He held you in place by your hair as your mouth opened and you tried spitting out his cum. Brows furrowing in pain and anger you glared up at him through your lashes that also happened to be covered in cum. Closing one eye, you continued glaring at him.

“Ahh, you look great covered in cum,” he said, wiping his cum away from your lips using his thumb and pressing a long kiss on your swollen lips. “Sorry, I got over myself.”

After his apology, your mood changed instantly. “Did it feel good?”

“It felt amazing!” Gojo answered instead of Nanami, “This guy probably felt good too, I saw his legs shaking in pleasure. You’re such a good girl, (name)!”

“She’s talented and lovely too.” Geto used your own pajama top to wipe your face. “Just my type.” He patted on your head, pressing a chaste kiss on your hair.

Now, you were blushing. “T-thank you.” You sat on the floor in the middle of all of them. Realizing that you were the only bare-naked person in the room made you cover yourself. “Um… Can I get a blanket or something?”

Nanami did as you politely asked while the other two started plotting their next move.

It was too easy to please you. Easier than to trick you.

Nanami joining them would make everything go butter smooth, this ‘friends don’t have boundaries with each other’ play could go on until you graduated. Geto was smirking at Gojo as he lit a cigarette, their senior year was going to be as boring as he thought it was going to be.

~~~

When Shoko returned to the campus three weeks after leaving, she wasn’t expecting you to be there.

But there you were in the secret smoking spot, sitting on Geto’s lap and trying to smoke a cigarette while Gojo laughed at your coughing. Nanami was smoking quietly but a gentle expression was on his face as he watched you try taking a drag from the cigarette again.

Perhaps, you were dumber than she gave you credit for. She wasn’t the one to judge though, she lit a cigarette and walked towards the group to join them teasing you.

[stayevildarling]

heyy! could you maybe do a love at first sight with mildred ratched, the setting could be anywhere. thank you!!

Mildred Ratched x Reader- First sight

word count: 7.3k

warnings: smoking, alcohol, fluff

A/N: this is my first time writing Mildred 👉🏻👈🏻

''Finally'' you think to yourself after you just arrived at your hotel a few minutes ago and after signing some documents and receiving your key card, you dropped everything in your room and headed straight for the outside area. As you arrived about half an hour ago, the bus from the airport taking an eternity, you saw the beach area with a bar and also what seems to be a terrace with some lounge chairs overlooking the beautiful ocean in the distance.

Walking out the big doors of the hotel and towards the terrace, hoping to get a good look at the ocean and having a few drinks because after all, you did book an all-inclusive holiday at this resort. As soon as you walk towards the only remaining chair by the bar, you feel the cool breeze from the ocean but also the heat of the afternoon sun. As you close your eyes for a moment, you hear the music playing quietly from the speakers of the hotel but also the waves crashing in the distance sending a shiver down your spine because you had been looking forward to this holiday for a while now, desperatly needing it as life seemed to exhaust you in a way it has never before and you were definitiely due for a break.

''Good afternoon Miss, would you like for me to take you to a seat and bring you some refreshments?'' a man approaches you, dressed in a hotel uniform and a polite smile plastered on his face.

''Um yes sure, I was actually just going to sit over there'' you say and point at the empty chair but he looks down before looking back up at you and explaining  ''I am terribly sorry Miss but that chair is reserved for someone already, how about I show you to one over here?'' he asks and points towards a row of empty chairs by the pool. Slightly confused and irritated by the fact someone would book a chair, you simply ignore it and smile politely at the staff member.

''Sure'' you say with a smile and follow him to one of the loungers and it seems more convenient because you can actually lie down this way and the fact you aren't far from the pool and bar seems even better.

''So what drink might I offer you miss?'' he asks politely and after thinking about it for a moment and glancing over at the bar and some drinks on a board you say ''Tequilla Sunrise please''.  He smiles politely and nods ''Of course Miss'' before leaving.

Absent-mindedly you scan your surroundings and you see the beautiful afternoon sun slowly starting to set in the distance and as your eyes scan the waiter coming over with your drink a few moments later, you see something out of the corner of your eyes. For a second you take your eyes away from the thing that caught your eye but something in your mind tells you to look again. You see a woman now sitting in the chair that you initially planned on sitting and despite her back being turned to you and that you are unable to see her face, you are even more curious as to why she wanted that seat specifically as she seems to be here alone and without company. As you scan her features you see her long red hair in a ponytail and that she is wearing a short sleeved shirt with flower prints on it.

Before you get to scan her any further, the waiter hands you your drink with a polite smile and the words ''Here you go miss'' and you smile before retrieving it and mumbling the words ''Thank you'' but barely able to keep your eyes off the mysterious stranger sitting a few chairs away from you. Shaking your head you remind yourself you didn't come here to observe strangers and waste your thoughts about why they booked a chair or not and so you simply lay back, sip on your drink and close your eyes, taking in the sun hoping you would get a little tan and also the peace and quiet.

Your mind can't help but wander to the reason that initially brought you here after your old job exhausted you so much and you couldn't handle it any longer. People often told you that you should take some time off and relax but you weren't just exhausted from working so much you were exhausted from life. Never did you want that life of working a job that paid the bills but that would make you dread the thought of going in every single day. Every sunday you would sit in your apartment and worry about going in the next day and just daydreaming about a different kind of life, travelling to all the destinations that you had seen in the newspaper before and just escape the nine to five life and capitalism. Growing up you had always been a little different, always having different dreams than your family, never wanting to get a job like that or maybe not even get a job and simply relying on a man, like your sisters. You never wanted a man in the first place, you wanted a pure and a true kind of love with a beautiful woman and travelling to all the beautiful destinations of the world before settling down somewhere with the girl of your dreams.

Momentarily your attention adverts back to the chair only to see it is now quite some time later and most people are gone and so is the woman in the chair. Huffing, you finish your drink and bring the empty glass to the bartender ''Another one Miss?'' he asks but you shake your head with a polite smile before tipping him and saying ''No I am good thank you'' and with those words you walk into the building again, passing by the hotel lobby and getting into the elevator.

Just before the door closes you hear an unfamiliar voice say ''Just my usual chair for tomorrow please'' and the staff member replying ''Of course Miss Ratched''. As the elevator goes up a few floors your eyebrows furrow for a second because despite never being in this place and not knowing anyone here, the voice sounded familiar but you don't know the woman at least not yet. ''At least I know her name now Ratched'' you think to yourself as you walk into your hotel room and drop on your bed because even though mostly doing travelling today and arriving here, you are tired and sleep quickly washes over you.

The next morning you are woken up by the sound of suitcases from people either arriving or leaving the hotel resort but it doesn't bother you in any way, being woken up by them as you wake up to the sun just rising and the soft sound of the ocean in the distance. As you look at the time you realize that it's now just turning eight am which means they are serving breakfast now. After stretching and closing your eyes just for a moment longer, you walk over to the little balcony attached to your room and step outside. Taking in the sounds of the ocean and the smell of both coffee and the delicious breakfast that is being served downstairs. For a moment you debate whether you might be allowed to have breakfast outside because the weather is so lovely, not too hot but sunny.

As you overlook the pool area you see that not a lot of people are outside yet but something catches your attention. You see the little bar area and loungechairs and that a few of them are already occupied by some families or couples. However, you also see the same woman in the same chair from yesterday and suddenly you remember her voice and name ''Ratched'' you think to yourself. She is sitting in the same position, overlooking the ocean and you see one of the waiters taking some juice and a platter with breakfast over to where she is sitting. For some reason you can't help but scan her features and you notice that she is wearing a long loose skirt and a green blouse with a belt. Her red hair is styled the same as yesterday and she is wearing a brown hat. Still you haven't actually seen her face but something about this woman interests you

''Must be the way she dresses'' you think to yourself because you don't often come across woman that put effort into their appearance and everyone from your old home town dressing and looking the exact same. Finally taking your eyes off the woman, you decide to get changed and take a shower as you didn't make it anymore yesterday after being so tired. It takes you less than an hour to get ready with showering, drying your hair and curling it slightly, putting on a jumpsuit that you had purchased for this holiday and some sandals. You grab your purse with your key card and a few other essentials and make your way towards the elevators and down to the hotel lobby.

As the elevator door opens you are greeted by a staff member ''Good morning Miss'' he says and smiles politely and you return the smile and mumble ''Good morning'' and he asks you ''Would you like me to serve you breakfast outside? or show you to our dining hall?'' and after debating about it a moment, the mysterious stranger sitting in that chair outside you quickly make the decision to have it outside.

''Outside sounds lovely'' you reply and he nods and takes you outside to the same lounge chair you sat in yesterday. ''Here is our menu Miss'' he says and hands you a card. After studying it for a moment you decide on a fruit platter and some juice to start your day healthy and light. It takes them moments to prepare it and bring it over to where you are sitting. ''There you go Miss'' he tells you and puts the food on the little table next to you. As soon as the taste of the fresh fruit hits your senses you close your eyes and hold in a little moan because this is everything that you have wanted when you decided on going on a holiday in the first place.

After finishing your food you make up your mind to relax a little and read the book that you had brought here and actually planned on doing something else but relaxing. Opening the book you drown in the pages and words and the world inside the book, the characters and places as if you are a character in the book. What you missed is that in the exact moment you opened your book and pulled it closer to your face, the mysterious stranger with red hair got up and walked right past you, on her way to her room to change into a swimming suit as she planned on going swimming. Because you are occupied with your book you don't notice any of these things or the fact you have yet to see her face and the universe seems to always interfear as soon as the opportunity of seeing each other is close.

Only after about a hundred pages you decide it's time for a break and time for a swim as it is really hot outside now and no one seems to be in the pool anymore, everyone now on their way to lunch or an activity outside the hotel. Thankfully you already planned ahead and put your swimming costume on underneath your jumpsuit so with one swift motion you take the piece of clothing off and put it neatly on your chair. After taking your sunglasses off and applying some sunscreen you walk over to the pool and you scan your surroundings. No one is here anymore not even your mysterious stranger and you wonder what she is up to before shaking the thought away and enjoying the cold water on your skin and swimming a few rounds.

For the remainder of the day you relax and take turns with reading your book, swimming occasionally and tanning plus enjoying a few cocktails that the nice bartender refills whenever you finish one. As the evening approaches, you decide to go back to your room to take another shower and get dressed, wanting to actually enjoy the buffet tonight and eat inside. After getting ready and checking your outfit in the mirror one more time, you feel slightly anxious as most people in this resort aren't here alone and either with their partners and family and you fear sitting on yourself slightly. However, you quickly shake the thought away and admire the dress you had bought for this holiday and you make your way into the large dining room, filled with tables of food and a kitchen where chefs prepare fresh dishes.

''Hello Miss'' a waitress pulls you out of your thoughts ''Room number please'' she asks and you reply ''301'' before she takes you to a table, overlooking the ocean. ''Can I offer you one of our fine wines this evening?'' she asks and despite you not really being a wine kind of girl you accept anyway. After wandering around the large buffet for a while you decide on a variety of salads and some pasta that the chefs prepared freshly for you with your chosen ingredients.

''Room number please'' you hear the same waitress say as you walk back to your table, where you find some wine and water. ''302 Ratched'' you hear the same familiar voice and name and instantly your head snaps the other way because you are desperate at this point to take a look at the mysterious woman's features. But as you turn around the waitress is already leading her to another table further away on the other end of the dining hall and you frown slightly. ''302'' the number keeps replaying in your mind and you can't believe that you and the redhead are neighbors after all and all the coincidenes so far.

After dinner you walk through the hotel lobby and you debate for a moment whether to go back to your room or whether to stay outside a little bit maybe taking a walk down to the ocean. In the end you decide to go to the bar by the pool considering it's already late and you wouldn't want to get lost on the way to the ocean.

You are greeted by the same bartender and a polite smile ''Hello Miss, what can I get you?'' he asks and after thinking about it for a moment you decide to order one of your usuals ''A magharita please'' you say with a polite smile and look down at your lap while he turns around and prepares your drink.

''Sounds lovely, make that another one please?'' you suddenly hear a familiar voice again, the same voice belonging to the mysterious redhead and apparently your neighboor in this hotel. Slowly your head turns in her direction, to your right where she is standing before taking a seat. She is wearing the same outfit from earlier this day but a different shirt and no hat. For the first time in these two days you had been here, you see her face and it's even more beautiful than you imagined. The first thing you see is her bone structures and how there isn't a single flaw in her features. She has dark eyebrows and beautiful red lips and the fancy looking earrings take your eyes off her face for a second. Quickly your eyes wander to her face again only to lock with her brown eyes and for a moment you fear you would never be able to take your eyes off her luminous and penetratring orbs.

''Mildred Ratched'' she introduces herself with a polite smile before the waiter interrupts your moment and places two drinks in front of you two. ''Y/N Y/L/N'' you quickly introduce yourself and thank the waiter with a polite smile before he walks off to the other end of the bar, where some people are sitting. ''Cheers'' the woman whos name you just learnt is Mildred says and raises her glass ''Cheers'' you mumble and yet again your eyes lock and in this moment everything starts spinning and you feel as if your heart might just beat out of your chest.

You feel something in your heart that you have never before, this sense of home and belonging and that the woman sitting next to you and focussing her attention on the drink again, is meant to be someone more as a distant stranger that you would meet at a hotel resort and part ways again. As you locked eyes with her for the first time it felt like your heart whispered ''That's the one'' and even though your brain is reminding you that things like love at first sight don't exist, the feeling in your stomach and chest proves otherwise.

''So when did you arrive here?'' you ask curiously, trying to make some conversation because you would hate for her to just get up and leave again and for her to walk out of your life again. ''The day before yesterday, you?'' she asks and you set your drink down before replying ''Just yesterday'' and the redhead simply nods.

''Are you here alone?'' the woman asks and you feel a little bit of relief that she is now the one asking the questions and keeping the conversation going. ''Yes I was due for a relaxing holiday'' you say and huff slightly ''Job or family?'' she asks and you furrow your eyebrows for a moment not understanding the question ''I mean it seems like you are running from something, I can tell'' she elaborates and for a moment you debate whether she is a therapist or something because how on earth is she able to read you this well already? ''Um my job I guess, I actually quit my job and I don't have any family'' you blurt out without thinking further and you look at Mildred for a moment, scared that you had just scared her away with that confession.

She simply nods and adverts her gaze because you are unaware that her story is somewhat the same. ''Are you here with any family?'' you ask after a moment of silence and the redhead simply shakes her head before explaining ''Here on my own, I'm more of a lone wolf just exploring the world day by day'' she explains and yet again your heart gives you an unfamiliar feeling.

For the remainder of the night you and the now not so mysterious woman talk about small things, you learn that she used to work as a nurse but is now just travelling the world and you tell her a bit more about your past. The two of you stay by the bar until about two am before the waiter comes over ''Let me guess you are going to kick us out?'' Mildred jokes and you chuckle, feeling slightly tipsy.

He smiles politely and nods ''We are closing soon Miss, also we are having a theme evening here tomorrow night, mexican with some food, dances and drinks, would you like me to book either of you a table?'' and Mildred looks at you for a moment before replying ''Sure that sounds lovely'' and he turns his attention on you ''Yes please'' and with that you tip the waiter and you and Mildred walk back into the hotel.

''What floor are you on?'' she asks as you two get into the elevator and you reply ''We are neighbors'' with a grin. ''Oh'' Mildred says and presses the button with a little smirk. ''I guess I will see you tomorrow'' she says as you part ways and you take one more look at her before entering your hotel room and falling onto the bed, daydreaming some more about your redhead neighbor Mildred.

The next evening approaches faster than you originally intended or expected for that matter. You woke up with a headache in the morning so you decided to take things slow and have breakfast inside. After that you explored the hotel a bit more and bought some pain medication as you forgot bringing some and hoping your headache would soon pass because you are looking forward to the mexican themed party in the evening.

For the remainder of the day you sat in your usual position, sipping on some non alcoholic drinks this time and reading your book while occassionally glancing at Mildred sitting in her usual spot and throughout the day a few times your eyes would lock and smiles would be exchanged. ''Excuse me Miss the preparations for the theme party are starting now, if I might ask you inside for a while until preparations are finished?'' your usual waiter informs you and you smile and retrieve your things only to bump into Mildred on your way up to your room.

''Oh hello there'' she says as you also get in the elevator ''Hi'' you answer trying hard not to blush. ''Will I see you at the party later?'' you ask and Mildred chuckles before asking ''Have you forgotten that we both booked a table last night?'' and you blush in embarassment as a result of your headache making you forget some details about last night. ''Oh sorry yeah I- I had a bit of a headache this morning I think it made me forget some things'' you smile and scratch your neck nervously. ''Sprite usually does the trick with hangovers or any lemon soda'' Mildred explains, the nurse within her showing. ''Oh thank you well I will remember that for next time'' you say and wink before you both walk into your hotel rooms to get ready for your nights.

Getting ready and finding the right outfit seems to take you an eternity because you can't quite decide on the right outfit. After spreading every piece of clothing you own and brought here all over the bed, you finally decide on a nice loose dress with some flowers printed on it. You spray some perfume and apply a little makeup before taking your handbag and walking out the room.

You could already hear music coming from downstairs and the party in the outside area and saw people there. However, you are unsure where Mildred is and whether you should knock on her door but then again you haven't decided on coming here together so it's a bit awkward. In the end you figure she must be downstairs already and you walk into the outdoor area only for your eyes to be blessed with the beautiful redhead angel.

She is standing away from everyone, overlooking the ocean and smoking a cigarette. Her hair is slightly curled and looks shorter than usual as she styled it differently. She turns around slightly to flick her cigarette away and you see her lips are the usual red shade but her cheeks are covered with a slight blush and her eyes with some eyeshadow. For a second you get lost, seeing her in a beautiful orange-yellow dress that exposes her shoulders and chest and once again you notice her perfect structure and your heart flutters for a moment seeing her like that.

''Good evening Miss, may I show you to your table?'' your usual waiter asks and you simply nod and finally take your eyes off Mildred and her stunning appearance tonight. ''Here you go'' he says and points you to a small table overlooking the ocean. Suddenly you get this feeling of really wanting to actually walk down to the beach tonight after being here for a few days and not even getting out of the resort. The themed evening seems nice, there is decoration everywhere and by the bar there is a little buffet with different foods and a menu card with all sorts of drinks and cocktails. They have also put up a little stage where a band seems to be performing any moment.

As you scan your area you see Mildred, sitting a few tables away from your own and for a moment you scold yourself for not just asking to sit together tonight and enjoy the evening together instead of separately.

''I will have a magherita please'' you tell your usual waiter and chuckle slightly seeing his sombrero hat that definitely does not suit him. ''In a moment Miss'' he says and leaves again. At the same time you see Mildred ordering the same drink and you feel confident so you wave at her to greet her and she waves back with a little smile. Your attention focusses on the stage as the band starts playing some music. ''Here you go Miss'' he hands you your drink and just as you are about to take a sip, you see Mildred raising her glass at you and mouthing the words cheers. ''Cheers'' you mouth and her eyes on you send little tingles through your body, yet again.

After about half an hour or so and a few magheritas later you decide to get some food and you almost bump into Mildred standing next to you, also a plate in hand and putting some food on it. ''Are you enjoying your night?'' she asks and you smile politely and think to yourself ''It would be much more pleasant spending it with you'' but instead you simply nod. ''You know I was thinking- only if you don't mind of course- we could maybe'' you start stammering and Mildred simply looks at you with a raised eyebrow and an amused smile on her lips. ''Yes?'' she asks somewhat impatiently and teasingly. ''Maybe we could sit together?'' you ask putting together all the confidence you have in yourself.

''I thought you would never ask'' she says and you almost died when you hear those words and see her walk away with a little wink. Retireving your plate now filled with food, you walk back to your table and grab your bag and drink before clumpisly making your way over to hers, almost dropping half of the things in your hand in the process. You sit down slightly embarrassed, your cheeks covered in a slight red shade. ''So, are you enjoying your night so far?'' you ask trying to make conversation while you start to have some of your food ''Yes I enjoy the Mexican theme'' Mildred explains and also starts eating her food

The two of you small talk for ages while eating and sipping on your mageritas, Mildred tells you more about what it's like to be a nurse and some funny patient stories and you tell her a bit more about your life before coming here, without going into any of the sadder details.

Momentarily your eyes widen as you just bit into a very spicy pepper and Mildred looks at you with a worried expression, thinking you are about to choke because your face is bright red and eyes widened still. ''Y/N are you okay?'' she asks, putting her fork down.

Somehow you manage to actually swallow the damn thing but your mouth is on fire ''Pepper spicy'' you choke out and Mildred quickly gets up and walks to the bar to get you something. ''I need some milk'' she explains to the bartender and he looks at her slightly puzzled but hands it her anyway. ''Pepper'' she chuckles and he simply chuckles back and watches her walk over to your table, handing you the glass. You look at her a bit dumbfounded at the white liquid that is clearly milk ''Drink up or don't you trust me?'' she asks raising an eyebrow and in your slightly drunk state you take it quickly and as soon as the liquid hits your mouth, it instantly stops the tingly and hot feeling on your tongue.

''Thank you'' you breathe out, feeling slightly embarrassed. ''As you were saying'' you try and change the subject and Mildred looks down with a smile and it's certainly the most beautiful smile you have ever seen. For the rest of the night, you and her enjoy each other's company and talk mostly and enjoy the atmosphere, music and several tequila shots. ''You know Mildred I haven't actually been to the beach yet, can you believe that?'' you blurt out slightly slurring your words. ''Well me neither, how about we explore it together?'' the redhead asks and even though everything is spinning a little of course you agree. ''Like right now?'' you ask excited and the redhead simply replies

''Sure this music is starting to give me a headache anyway'' and you follow her while she leads the way through the busy crowd of people dancing to the music and onto a little path down to the beach. Thankfully there are little lights leading down the stairs so you don't trip over and die on your way there. ''It looks beautiful doesn't it?'' you mumble seeing the moonlight shining onto the ocean and soon after you feel your feet on the soft sand and you take off your sandals and hold them in your hand. The two of you start walking and you can't help but think to yourself ''With the moonlight like this she is even prettier'' but you don't dare to say those words out loud, not knowing enough about her situation yet.

Thinking about her situation you feel confident and slightly drunk so you ask ''Might I ask why you aren't here with a gentleman accompaning you?'' but quickly feel embarrassed so you add ''Let me guess haven't found mister right?'' but it only makes the situation more awkward.

Just in this moment as if the universe is trying to save you, Mildred trips over a stone and you catch her just in time, holding her up with her hand and your eyes momentarily locking. ''Thank you'' she says and smiles shily. ''No I haven't found the right person yet'' she replies to your initial question and with that you abandon the question and move on, listening to Mildred talk about her travelling.

''I once met this man in France and I thought he was trying to ask me out but in reality he wanted to sell me baguette'' Mildred tells you one of her stories and you can't help bursting out laughing, causing for the redhead to do the same.

''My my it's late and we had too much to drink'' Mildred eventually says after walking up and down the beach and back to the stairs. The walk back to the hotel is mostly quiet because of some people still partying and singing loudly by the lobby and even in the elevators. ''I really enjoyed tonight, thank you'' you tell her and she places a hand on your shoulder and whispers ''Me too darling, see you tomorrow'' before walking into her hotel room, leaving you on cloud nine with that petname.

It takes seconds for you to fall asleep and you only manage to quickly take off your dress before sleep consumes you and it's the same for your neighbor Mildred.

The next morning you wake up considerably late, just before lunch time with a pounding headache and a sick feeling in your stomach. ''Ugh I will never drink again'' you tell yourself because this is the second hangover you have had on this vacation, just this one is considerably worse. For a while you don't get out of bed and wait for the feeling to pass, looking out your balcony window and seeing the ocean in the distance.

Eventually you figure it's time to get out of bed and you manage to have a shower but with the lights turned off and the curtains shut because the light is irritating your vision and only making the headache stronger. After getting dressed in a shirt and some shorts for today, as you don't plan on doing anything major, you walk down to the hotel lobby.

''Hello Miss unfortunately you have just missed breakfast but we will be serving lunch soon'' one of the hotel staff members greet you but the thought of food makes you even more nauseas. ''No thank you I am alright, just looking to get something to drink'' you say and walk to the outdoor bar area. Mildred isn't in her usual chair so you assume she is still asleep as well ''What can I get you miss?'' the waiter asks and you order your drinks ''Could I have these to go?'' you ask

Feeling confident, you make your way to room number 302 with two sprite cans in your hand, remembering Mildred mentioning it helps with hangovers and she for sure would have one too right now. You hear a faint ''Come in'' and you furrow your eyebrows, confused whether she was expecting someone. Hesitantly you open the door and walk inside, only to find Mildred sitting on the balcony, her knees pulled up to her chest and looking into the distance, wearing sunglasses and smoking a cigarette.

''Hi it's me'' you announce your presence and she turns to you a bit surprised, putting her feet back on the floor and her cigarette on the ashtray ''I thought it was the maid'' Mildred admits and you take a few steps closer and onto the balcony ''I um well brought these'' you say and hand her a can of sprite. Mildred can't help but smirk at the metaphor and you remembering her words ''That bad huh?'' she asks and you simply nod and add ''Well by the looks of it, yours is too considering you are wearing sunglasses despite the sun covered by clouds'' and once again the redhead raises an eyebrow at your boldness. She points at the other chair and says ''Have a seat''

--------------

A few days later:

Just with every good and beautiful thing, this holiday is slowly coming to an end and you feel upset that today is officially your last day at the resort before you have to go back tomorrow. Although you have no clue where to actually go because you don't plan on going back to your hometown, not having anything to go back to or anyone for that matter.

After getting ready you walk downstairs and meet Mildred for breakfast sitting in your usual spot. Over the past two weeks, especially after that Mexican themed party, the two of you have gotten to know each other better and spend the remainder of your days here together. You learnt more about what used to be the mysterious stranger, booking the seat you wanted to sit in and she in return.

You had developed little habits like Mildred making the hotel staff add a chair next to hers and always booking those two for the next days. You would meet her downstairs and have breakfast together, overlooking the ocean. Then you would both kinda do your own things like Mildred smoking some cigarettes or looking into the distance, reading the newspapers. You would sometimes go for a swim or read your book but always near Mildred.

You started to grow more fond of her and you developed something more than a little crush on her and the feeling you felt when laying eyes on her for the first time, still hasn't changed. You feel the same tingle in your stomach and fluttering of your heart. It's like whenever you are close to her, you feel as if you forgot how to do anything no matter if speaking or breathing.

At the same time you have been feeling this wrenching feeling in your heart, not just sad about leaving this vacation but also sad about having to say goodbye to Mildred and not having the redhead around anymore. Nothing major happened between you in those two weeks and you doubt she has a thing for women in the first place but you still liked having the company of this woman and learning more about her.

''Hi there, it's a surprise to see you up and down here first'' Mildred notices as she finds you on your usual chairs. ''I guess I couldn't sleep anymore'' you mumble and she sits down slightly concerned, her eyebrows knitting. ''Are you alright Y/N?'' she asks but before you get to answer, the waiter comes over with your usual breakfast orders and also two glasses of champagne. ''These are a little goodbye gift from the resort as you are both leaving tomorrow'' your usual waiter says and you smile and thank him

The rest of the day, you spent with reading your book and finishing it, swimming a little more and talking to Mildred. ''How about we have dinner at the beach tonight?'' the redhead suggests and you are a bit surprised at her invitation. ''Yes I would love to, do you think that's possible?'' you ask wondering how that would work because the beach isn't on the premises of this hotel. ''Oh Darling come on, don't you know me by now? I am always prepared'' she says and explains how she already had the staff prepare a little something.

Just as the sun sets, you and Mildred walk down to the beach with a blanket and a basket that the staff had prepared so the two of you could enjoy your dinner by the beach. ''This is beautiful'' you state as you and her sit on the blanket and she sets the food and drinks down. ''They really are fantastic here'' the redhead admires the staff's effort and you were about to say ''So are you'' but successfully stopped yourself and held it back

''So where are you headed after tomorrow?'' you absent-mindedly ask while overlooking the beautiful view in front of you. The sun is setting just behind Mildred and you wish your eyes could take pictures and you could somehow save this image and moment forever because she looks breathtaking. Part of you wishes you could cherish this moment forever even if you know your ways are soon to part.

''Italy I think, I will take a taxi down to the nearest city and see what flights might be available'' she says and trails off talking about how she has been to europe a few times but never Italy. ''That sounds beautiful I have always wanted to go there'' you admit, really loving the aesthetic of the beautiful sunny country.

Silence settles after this, you and Mildred just enjoying some of the pasta and breadsticks that the staff and chefs prepared and sipping on some red wine. ''Y/N are you alright? you seem awfully quiet today'' Mildred points out and your lips part for a moment but then again you don't really know what to say to her, not wanting to admit how you feel about leaving this place and more specifically her.

''No I am okay, just a bit sad we- I mean that we have to leave this place'' you admit and Mildred looks down, her gaze avoiding yours as if she wants to say something or something is on her mind. ''How about you? it seems there is something on your mind'' you state, noticing how tense and slightly nervous she seems since coming here with you.

It takes her a few moments to speak again but you want to make sure to give her time and for her to be ready to share whatever she wants to share with you. ''Do you remember when we came here last?'' she asks and you chuckle and reply ''Yes and I remember the aftermath of that night'' you chuckle, remembering how hungover you both were the next morning.

''You asked me why I am not here with a gentlemen and while I don't share this with anyone really apart from my close circle.. I- the reason is that I enjoy the company of other women and I think you might understand that's why I am telling you'' she says and looks up to meet your  eyes. Your heart flutters a little at her confession because your radar really was off with her and you had no clue until she just admitted it.

Quickly you compose yourself and reply ''Yes I do know'' because you would hate to make her uncomfortable by saying the wrong thing or taking too long to reply because you know the feeling well of coming out to people and how nerve wrecking it truly is. ''I do too'' you whisper barely audible because suddenly you feel very nervous and the butterflies in your stomach are back.

Mildred locks eyes with you and her mouth is slightly ajar because even though she had a feeling you might know what it's like she didn't actually think you would be into women but what you didn't see is the little smile playing on her lips and Mildred hiding how exciting your confession truly is to her .

''Where are you planning to go after this holiday?'' Mildred asks, changing the subject again because it makes you both very nervous. ''I don't really know I guess I will see where life takes me'' you admit and look down feeling sad.

''How about Italy?'' she asks and for a moment you are completely dumbfounded and feel like you lost the ability of thinking clearly until you realize what she is truly suggesting here. ''As in -'' you pause for a moment not wanting to make a fool out of yourself by reading this wrong  ''As in you and me'' Mildred finishes your sentence.

It feels like everything is frozen, the only thing to be heard right now, the sound of your pounding heart and the waves of the ocean hitting the shore. ''Do you - I-'' you stutter unable to form a reply. ''The truth is I like you Y/N and I would like to see where this is going'' Mildred admits and your eyes widen because this is better than any of your daydreams you have had so far.

''So how about we take on the adventure together?'' Mildred asks with a smile and you suddenly feel her hand grazing yours slightly. ''I would love to'' you say truthfully and you can't hide the blushing of your cheeks or smile on your face. ''Alright it's settled then darling'' the redhead says before handing you your glass of champagne ''To new beginnings'' she says and raises her glass.

As you sit there, watching the sun set completely and slowly some stars shining brightly in the night sky, seeing Mildred looking at the ocean and occasionally glancing at you, you feel complete and even though things are fresh and somewhat uncertain, right now you know you have a path. And maybe just maybe the day you waltzed into this holiday and met this mysterious stranger that made your heart flutter from the first moment you saw her, also made Mildred Ratched waltz right into your heart.

You smile as you think of the adventures ahead but as you see Mildred looking at you, you turn around shily. ''What is it?'' she asks softly her hand still on yours. ''I- I'm just happy'' you chuckle and you almost faint as she leans in closer and her lips are very close to yours. Everything spins and stops yet again and you are sure she must be able to hear your heart because it is beating out of your chest. ''Good you deserve it darling'' she whispers and then she closes the gap.

Arriving here, you never expected to find true happiness and you expected to only be able to relax a little after what happened with your old job and life before. Coming here you never expected that within the matter of two weeks you would get closer to your goal of eventually settling somewhere with a beautiful woman that you love and spend the rest of your lives together while exploring the world. You had no idea this person would be the mysterious redhead that stole your chair on your first day and finally your heart in the end as her lips meet yours softly.

[cvtqr]

cammed 

series masterlist

i. | iii.

chapter two; the incident

content warning; smoking, drinking, hand and blow job, face-fucking

8 months ago

eren jaeger didn't have much to do in his free time. no sports, no care for studying extra, nothing. he spent his days drinking, smoking, fucking. his days were on repeat, over and over again. 

he was in a frat, not that he actually cared about it. it was just free access to booze and parties. but constant partying for him can get a little... boring. nothing interesting, or new, happened anymore. he was about to lock himself in his room the whole night, since he heard about all the freshmen that would be coming. just a bunch of kids who think they’re grown, he couldn’t be bothered with that.

“hist’, don't you think this a bit much?” 

you emerged from historia’s bathroom, wearing the outfit she picked out for you. “its perfect!” she squealed, running up to you, “you look so hot, y/n!!”

playfully rolling your eyes at her, you patted the top of her blonde head. “but this is my first party, what kind of impression is this?” the outfit she left you wasn't casual, at all. it was revealing, up from your chest, down to every curve it perfectly squeezed.

“one saying that you’re fucking hot. reiner should be there too, i think he's grown a liking to you.” she winked at you before running back over to get her shoes, leaving you flustered in the door frame. 

brushing it off with a cough, you walked over the the door of historia’s dorm. 

“we’ve only been here, i’ve only known him for a month. plus isn’t he two years older than us? he wouldn't want to be with someone so inexperienced, in every field, like me.”

“that doesn't mean shit, y/n.” taking her small bag, she walked over to the door as you held it open.

“hmm, what about you? i think ymir’s trying to get close, don't you think?”

quickly turning her head away from you, her ears peaked out of her hair with a light pink tint to them.

“what! that's crazy, she's just being friendly!” walking away towards the building exit, you giggled while running up behind her. “yeah yeah, what ever you say"

walking into the loud and foggy house, you had to hold on tight to historia, or you'd get lost with the amount of people. this was your first college party after all. historia has been to plenty in your month of being here, but you've never seemed to care about them. grabbing your hand, she guided you into a small, secluded living-room area. 

“wow, you dragged y/n out for once. impressive, really historia.”

“thanks, guess i just have that charm.” giving jean a playful wink, she sat down next to ymir, as her hand found her way around her waist. you on the other hand took a seat next to jean, rolling your eyes at him.

“nice outfit.” he couldn't be anymore obvious as his eyes wandered down every part of your body. “thanks. do you know...- do you know if reiner’s here?”

“oh yeah my bad, forgot you have the hots for blondie. he should be outside, maybe by the pool.” you gave him a nod as you stood back up onto your feet. you tried to tell historia where you were going, but her mouth was already occupied being shoved into ymir’s face. 

surprisingly, it didn't take you that long to find the backdoors of the house. you took a step outside, a slight breeze greeting your face. there was one problem though, reiner was no where to be found. your eyes scanned the backyard, but you still couldn't find him. and a guy like him was hard to miss. who did catch your eye was a certain tall brunette. 

“bertholdt!” running up to him, you rested your hand on his shoulder. “o-oh y/n, hey!”

“do you have any clue where reiner is?” you removed your hand from his shoulder, you were unsure if you were making him nervous or uncomfortable. either way you liked reiner and didn't want to leave a bad impression by making his best friend uncomfortable. “actually i do!” he turned you around and pointed towards a small bar in the corner. “he should be over there... if not he’ll be back soon, probably taking a piss or something”

“ok, thanks ber!”

“anytime, y/n” you gave him a smile before walking over to the bar. reiner was still no where to be found. you were about to give up and go back to historia inside, until you felt a certain pair of strong arms wrap around your waist from behind.

“hi.”

“reiner... hey.” he loosened his grip around your waist, allowing you to turn around and properly hug him. “i've been lookin for you”

he let go of you and pulled out a chair for you to sit in before walking behind the bar. “yeah, sorry about that. you want something to drink?” 

“i’ll just have water for now.” giving you a smile, he leaned over to pull a water bottle out of the mini fridge. 

“toss me one too, bartender.” a semi-deep voice caught you off guard, creeping up behind you. feeling your breath shaken up, you had to cover it up by cleaning your throat. “thought you weren't coming down tonight, eren.” 

reiner tossed the water bottle behind you, the man catching it. he took a seat down next to you, giving you a better look of all his features. dark brown hair, sloppily thrown into a messy bun, defined face, beautiful eyes. he was wearing a pear of black sweats and an opened zip of hoodie, no shirt. you felt like you were about to drool as his defined abs glowed in the lights surrounding the bar. 

“not staying, i was just thirsty.” his eyes shifted towards you. you felt the goosebumps rise onto your skin as he looked you up and down. “this the girl you've been babbling about?”

“hey! what're your talking about man...”

“no need to be all shy, reiner.” he held out his hand in front of you. “eren jaeger.” you took the hand into yours, shaking it. it was rough and veiny, a few rings thrown onto it. “f/n. f/n l/n.” 

shaking his hand for a few seconds, you didn't want to let go. it felt so warm, comforting. but not to be creepy, you pulled your hand away and placed it back onto your water bottle. “well, ill leave you two be.” 

and just like that, he picked up his bottle and walked back into the house. “i think i’ll take up that drink-... actual drink offer.”

it was no surprise, or secret, that you were a light weight. it didn't take long for the night to progress, as you getting drunker and drunker hanging out with reiner. its been about two hours since you started drinking, and your head was spinning. you ended up loosing reiner somewhere along the way, and met back up with historia. 

you and a bunch of her friends sat slouched on the couch, completely wasted. you all just wanted to go back into your beds, but figured you needed some time to cool off before heading back. “where's the bathroom?” you pushed yourself up, rubbing your forehead.

“you can use the one upstairs since no one down here would use that one, third door on your left.”

thanking jean, you dragged yourself off the sofa and up the nearby staircase of the house. you turned down to a long hallway of doors, finding the bathroom. third door on the... right?

opening the door, you defiantly were not met with the bathroom. a huge bed took up the room in front of you, the guy from before sitting on the edge of it. he had his head thrown back as he softly inhaled from a blunt. as he heard the door open, he turned his head, now facing you.

“s-sorry, i thought this was the bathroom.” he lifted up his hand free from the blunt, pointing across the hall. “its okay, right across from here.”

you gave him a nod as you were about to turn yourself around. “wait... someones in there, just use mine.”

“are you sure?” you took a small, hesitant, step into eren’s room. “yeah, its just a bathroom.”

he got himself up and walked over to the other side of the room, opening a white door for you. “thank you so much!” you ran over to him and entered the bathroom. “anytime.” he said as he closed the door from you. 

the small room smelt just like him, the strong scent of cologne that lingered everywhere he went. finishing your business in the bathroom, you opened the door to find eren now seated at the edge of the bed facing the entrance of his room, the door closed. 

“soo... you friends with reiner?” you stayed in the door frame of the bathroom, keeping your distance. “hm? oh yeah, you could say that.” yet again, he took the blunt up to his lips, inhaling the smoke.

“i don't bite, you know. you don't have to stand in the bathroom.” taking a deep breath, you shifted over towards eren. he patted the bed next to him, indicating for you to sit down. something about him made you nervous, just his whole vibe. but at the same time, his presence was comforting. you took a seat next to him, fidgeting with your fingers. 

“you want a hit?” you cracked the knuckles in your fingers, looking down at the floor. even though you weren't looking in his direction, you felt his eyes burning right through you. “oh..- i don't know. i-i’ve never really, you know.”

“that's ok... do you wanna-, want to try something?” you didn't know how to respond. you were hesitant as you slightly shook your head, brining it up to face him. 

“c'mere” he patted his lap, moving his sweatshirt out of the way. for some reason this felt... wrong. you liked reiner, you didn't want to mess that up. but god knows what a guy like him does while you're not around. you guys weren't necessarily dating, so you could use a little fun once in awhile. right?

you pushed yourself up onto eren’s lap, straddling his waist. you felt the heat rushing up all over your face, you probably looked like a nervous wreck. once you were situated, eren took his free hand up to gently cup your face. bringing his thumb down to your mouth, he used to part your lips and open your mouth. he kept it wide open, now gripping your jaw. 

he pulled the blunt up to his lips, taking a deep inhale, but holding it in his mouth. he then hovered his face above yours, and opened his mouth above yours. bringing his lips just inches away from yours, he blew the smoke into your mouth.

if the sexual tension wasn't bad before... it could now be sliced clean. you accepted the smoke, inhaling it into your lungs. not that they reacted good. you immediately started clearing your throat, facing your head to the side. he let out a long, deep chuckle as you turned your head back to face him. why did he have to be so attractive. 

you didn't even know this guy, but something about that made you want him all that more. you looked down into his eyes, slowly bringing your lips down to his. he beat you to it though, crashing his lips up onto yours. it wasn't something soft, or sweet. it was out of pure lust. rough and sloppily, he shoved his tongue into your mouth. taking in every part of him, you felt a way you've never felt before. but the guilt was coming up on you, reiner was the one you liked, yet the thought of him even existing left your mind as you mushed yourself into eren.

it didn't take long for your hands to wander down his already exposed chest, feeling up on everything. you gently traced your hands on the outline of his shoulder, before pushing the sweatshirt off his toned body. his hands found your hips, pushing them down onto himself. complying, you slowly started to grind your hips onto his now fully erect cock. 

the short dress you were wearing was now fully ridden up your body, eren’s hands pulling it above your hips. not stoping the movement of your hips, your hands found their way down eren’s body, stopping at the waistband of his sweatpants. “you don't have to-”

you brought your eyes up to meet his once again. “want to though.” you slowly guided your hands down his sweatpants, into his boxers. before doing anything else, you pushed the both of you down onto eren’s plush mattress. 

taking his pants and boxers, you pulled them down just enough for his cock to spring out and slam up against his abs. it was so pretty... pretty long and girthy, two long veins running down the shaft, and a pretty dark pink tip oozing pre-cum. you spat into your hand before carefully picking it up in your hands. brining your hand to the head, you took the pre cum and lathered his shaft in it and your saliva. 

moving your body to the side a bit, you started off at a slow pace as you dragged your hand up and down his rock hard cock. picking up the pace of your hand, you had your eyes focused on his face. he had his head thrown back onto the pillows, squeezing his eyes shut. gaining some sort of confidence, you stopped the movement in your hands, and you pushed yourself down onto the bed. situating yourself onto eren’s legs, your brought the tip of his cock to your mouth, teasing it with your tongue. you weren't the best at this, but the way erens hands flew straight to your hair, you knew you wanted to try. try and make him feel good. 

you wrapped your lips around the head of him, before pushing yourself down as far as you could.

“fuuuck-, y/n”

he propped himself back up onto his elbow, watching your every move. when you looked up to him, his mouth was hung wide open, but nothing came out. you continued the movement of your mouth, his grip on your hair only got tighter. he just couldn't help himself at this point. he thrusted his hips into your mouth, his cock hitting the back of your throat as you let out a small gag, which only sent vibrations around him. you didn't want him to stop though. it didn't take long of him pulling your head up and down before he came. slightly salty cum squirting out right down your throat. 

he pulled you back up, as you swallowed as much as you could, some still dribbling out from your mouth. you both let out a long breath as you closed your eyes. before eren could flip you back onto the bed, you stood up onto the ground. 

“wait-”

you pulled your dress back down over your bottom half and brushed it off. “i should get back to my friends, they probably want to leave.”

he sat himself onto the bed and grabbed your hand into his, gently. “are you sure? i feel bad that you didn't-”

“don't worry about it! anyways im a... uh-”

“virgin... hm i wouldn’t have guessed that.” you didn't know how to take that, so you just brushed it off with an awkward chuckle.

“can i have your number anyway?” you nodded your head as eren pulled out his phone. he unlocked it, pulling up a blank contact page. you happily put in your information before returning his phone back to him.

“ill text you, eren!” you walked over to the door of his room, opening the handle.

“good. i have to talk to you anyway.”

@kqtsukisgf @brooklynalpha

[homoose]

Through the Smoke

Request: could you do spencer x bau reader where they aren't dating yet but they both feel for each other? where both spencer and reader are very closed off people and the whole team knows that. but after one rough case on the flight back, they're both just exhausted mentally and physically and seek comfort in each other. then spend the night at reader's apartment and kiss for the first time there. sorry if this is specific but thank you (:

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: angst with a happy ending

Warnings/Includes: typical CM stuff, cults, kidnapping, violence, etc.

Word count: 8.1k

Music recs: Through the Fire by Jake Etheridge and Margot Todd; scared by Jeremy Zucker

a/n: anon, I have no idea if this is what you were looking for, but this is where it went. It’s a generous rewrite of 300, substituting the reader for Garcia. Also this blog operates with the understanding that the season 14 jeid arc does not exist lmao. JJ is firmly in the “I love you as a brother” camp and I will not be taking questions at this time. Also, this is a reminder that my requests are open! send me some fresh ideas, head cannons, rambles, whatever! 

———

“Metro PD and the Bureau have been made aware of the Believers and possible activity following their leader’s arrest,” Prentiss confirmed, looking out over the team mingling in the bullpen. “But taking Theo at his word—”

“We only arrested three. There’s probably more out there, but if they follow cult dynamics, they’ll break down on their own without the messiah,” Matt finished.

“Typical cults: you think it’s a cast of thousands when really it’s just four whackos sitting around in the dark,” Tara mused.

Prentiss smiled. “I think we deserve some decompression time, and Rossi’s kind enough to host.”

Rossi leaned over the railing and nodded. “And I have some top shelf wine picked just for the occasion.”

The team started gathering their belongings and heading towards the elevators. Y/N hesitated, looking toward the case file still sitting on her desk. Something about how this had all wrapped up just… didn’t sit right. Her nearly five years with the Critical Incident Response Group had given her an up close view of some of the most prolific cults in American history. She’d studied Jonestown, Waco, Ruby Ridge, Liberty Ranch; new cults emerged onto CIRG’s radar regularly. And there was something about The Believers that just didn’t add up.

Y/N began shuffling things around on her desk, trying to look busy. She caught Spencer and JJ out of the corner of her eye, talking quietly. They ended their conversation with a hug, lingering just a little longer than Y/N would have preferred. She shook her head to try to physically clear the thought from her brain. She knew that Spencer had been through a lifetime’s worth of trauma before she joined the team, and that JJ had been an integral support for him. Y/N was also aware that she had zero grounds to be concerned with any of Spencer’s relationships, romantic or otherwise.

“Y/N, you coming?” JJ asked, walking toward her desk. Spencer headed out of the bullpen and down the hall.

Y/N gave her a half-hearted smile. “Yeah, I’ll be there in a little bit. Just wanted to finish up a couple things here.”

“Well, don’t stay too late.” JJ pressed her lips together for a moment before adding, “Maybe you and Spence could drive together. He said he might not make it, but if he had some company...”

Y/N hoped her immediate flush wasn’t too obvious. After nearly a year in the unit, she finally felt like she had built some solid relationships with the team, and Spencer was no exception. She relished their card games on the jet, the laughs over too-sweet coffee, discussions about books and films and music. But she also adored the way his hair sometimes curled and fell into his eyes, his animated and rambling tangents, the way his hands traced over the tiny print of his books. Most of her adult life had been spent surrounded by men who would gather up her trust in their pitted hands and crush it on a whim. She’d kept her heart behind glass for a long while, but Spencer was slowly chipping away at the fragile panels. She was certain he had no idea that he was even holding the chisel; but just about everyone else seemed to have figured it out. JJ, with her hands clasped together and an eager smile, definitely had. Y/N smiled, too. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“So we’ll see you in a bit?” When Y/N nodded, JJ gave her a warm smile and headed out.

Turning back to the case file, Y/N pressed her fingers to her temple and looked over the documents. Some of the pieces fit together, but the whole case felt littered with gaps and holes. The tale that Theo had woven about The Believers seemed true enough— his parents were simply the suppliers of potential cult members. Although, she still couldn’t figure out the reason for the kidnapping and torture. There were much easier ways to recruit vulnerable people.

She flipped past the pages of written statements and read over the report from the warehouse raid. It was short— the take down of Merva was too easy. Why was he sitting alone in an empty warehouse with only two unarmed, sleeping followers as a defense? Where was the rest of the cult? Matt was correct that most cults fall apart without their leader; unless the loss of a leader was a possibility they’d already prepared for.

The burns on Quinn’s hands didn’t make sense, either. Why use the initiation ritual as a torture device? Shouldn’t that be saved for people who had accepted the invitation? And then there was the one coincidence that nagged at her the most: what were the chances that Theo just happened to be enrolled in Spencer's course? Why did Spencer seem to be at the center of the whole thing?

Y/N sighed as her phone lit up with a message from JJ. She realized she’d been poring over the file for twenty-five minutes, and she had to laugh. As the least experienced profiler on the team, what could she possibly see that the others hadn’t? She closed the case file and quickly packed up, grabbing her jacket and bag and making her way toward the elevator lobby. She paused at the glass doors, retrieving her phone and pulling up Spencer’s contact information. Her thumb hovered over the call button for a long moment before she huffed out a breath. If even JJ hadn’t been able to convince him to go, there was no way she’d be able to change his mind. Despite herself, she glanced down the hall, allowing herself one moment to imagine an alternate timeline where she asked him to come along with her— to Rossi’s, to the moon, anywhere.

With a sigh, Y/N pushed open the glass doors and saw Agent Meadows leading Quinn to the elevator. She pushed down the little red flag in the back of her mind. As she stepped onto the elevator, she smiled politely at the two agents.

“I knew you didn’t do it. I just knew,” Meadows said to Quinn. She turned to Y/N. “And I can’t tell you what a privilege it’s been working with the A-Team on this case.”

Something about the calm in her voice made Y/N uneasy. “Yeah, it’s— um. It’s a great team to be a part of.” Her phone lit up again, this time with a phone call from JJ. “Okay, okay,” she muttered under her breath. Y/N answered the call, half an ear still listening to Meadows speak to Quinn. “Hey, I’m just leaving now.”

“Are you still at the BAU?” JJ demanded, voice low.

“Yeah, yeah, sorry. But I’m in the elevator,” Y/N answered.

“Listen, we’re pretty sure Quinn was converted,” JJ told her. Y/N’s heart dropped into her shoes. “I need you to make sure he doesn’t leave that building. We’re coming back now. Where’s Spence?”

Y/N took a breath to try to even out her voice before speaking again. “Mom, we already talked about this. I don’t know.”

JJ paused. “Is Quinn in the elevator with you?”

“Yep.” JJ spoke quietly to someone on the other end of the phone. Y/N watched as the elevator dinged to the floor of the parking garage. “I’m going to have to hang up, mom. I’m gonna lose you, but I’ll try to take care of it tonight, okay?”

“Y/N, we’re on our—” The call dropped as the elevator hit the basement level.

Y/N took a deep breath to steady her voice. “Ugh, lost her.” She glanced at Meadows and Quinn, forced a smile and shrugged. “Elevators, right?”

The elevator doors began to open and Y/N stepped out, surreptitiously reaching for her holster. She had just lifted the strap when she heard the crack of metal hitting bone. Her face hit the concrete before she realized it was her own skull that bore the impact. She watched as her gun skidded across the parking lot floor, the taste of iron flooding her mouth. “Fuck,” she muttered, wincing in pain and scrambling up off the ground as a gunshot went off.

She didn’t feel the impact of the bullet. She looked down at her body, expecting to see a blooming rose of blood. She stared dumbly for a second too long, before remembering that she needed to get to her gun. Her hand instinctively went to her nose as she stumbled forward, coming away wet with blood.

“Stop, Agent Y/L/N.”

She heard the sound of a gun cocking, and then another. She closed her eyes and ran through an internal stream of curses. Raising her hands up, she turned slowly around. An older white man stood to her left, his gun trained on her. Meadows walked slowly towards her, lowering her own weapon. Quinn leaned against the back of the elevator, clutching his abdomen and blood staining the front of his shirt.

“Surprise,” Meadows sang, a sick smile spreading across her face. She stopped in front of Y/N, sweeping her hand in the direction of the man. “Now, John’s going to make sure you don’t do anything stupid. Get in the car.”

Y/N glanced in the direction of the vehicle, a dark sedan, driver armed to the teeth as well. “The team knows something’s up. You won’t make it out of this garage alive.”

Meadows laughed, loud and unhinged. “Oh honey. They’re not looking for lil ol’ me. And they sure as hell won’t be looking for an ambulance.” Her smile returned. “Plus, I already erased 299 murders from the Bureau’s radar. What’s a couple more? Now, shut up... and get in the car.”

Y/N moved to the open car door, keeping her back as straight as possible and her chin up, refusing to show them any cowardice. The barrel of the gun jabbed her in the back as she lowered herself into the vehicle. The door slammed shut, and in a moment, the gun was back on her, the man sitting next to her in the backseat. Y/N waited for the car to pull out, still trying to make sense of it all. Meadows was a Believer? What did she mean by “erased” 299 murders? Why would she blow her cover to shoot Quinn? Did she think that he had figured her out? Or that Y/N had? If that was the case, why not just shoot her? Why wasn’t the car moving?

“Drop your gun, Agent Reid,” Meadows’ muffled voice penetrated the inside of the vehicle. Y/N’s heart began to race. John dug the gun further into her side.

“It’s been you the whole time,” Spencer deduced.

“Yes, it was. Quinn somehow figured it out first. Pity having to shoot him,” Meadows mocked. “But he can’t give me what I want. And you can.”

“What’s that?” Y/N’s brain scrambled to put the pieces together as she listened to the exchange. Spencer was at the heart of it after all. It was right there, she just couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

Meadows continued, “You and I are going to go upstairs and free my Messiah.”

“You’re in the heart of the FBI. As soon as the rest of my team figures out it’s you, you’ll be dead before you’re out the door.” Y/N hoped to god that he was right.

“Then we need to work quickly.”

“I’m not going to cooperate with you,” Spencer told her. “Might as well shoot me.” Y/N didn’t even have time to panic before the car shifted into drive.

“I have a better idea.” On Meadows’ cue, the driver squealed out of the parking space and into Spencer’s line of sight. His eyes fell on Y/N, hands nearly pressed against the window, John’s gun pointed at her head. “Now, what’s it gonna be? Because you can either join us, or she dies.”

Y/N tried to radiate her rage through her eyes and screamed, “Reid, just shoot her! Shoot her!” The last thing she saw before the second crack of steel against her skull was the hesitation in Spencer’s eyes.

⧭⧭⧭

Y/N’s eyes fluttered open and she groaned at the pounding of her head, the rhythm of her heartbeat throbbing in the space behind her ears. She tried to lift her hand to check for blood, only to strain against the hold of a zip tie attached to the base of the chair. Instead, she surveyed the room around her. A warehouse, lots of shipping containers, and even more men— this time armed with assault rifles and machine guns. One stood at the entrance point of the small area she was being kept in.

She worked through her memory, putting the pieces together. Meadows was a Believer, had been for quite some time to pull all of this off. Quinn wasn’t special, he just got in the way of her real target. Ben Merva might have been the messiah, but Spencer Reid was clearly just as important to whatever mission they were carrying out. Every twisting thread of information somehow traced back to him: Theo in his class, Quinn’s attachment to him, Meadows��� demand that he be the one to free Merva.

“Good, you’re awake.” Meadows strode through the space with a laptop in hand. “I need your handiwork.”

Y/N stared at her. “Is that so?’

Meadows set the laptop on the barrel in front of Y/N and then leaned down to cut the zip tie. “Besides being my collateral for the good doctor, you’re also going to help me access CIRG’s surveillance data.”

“Fuck you.” Y/N spat on Meadows’ shoes. “I’m doing nothing for you.” Her head rolled back, eyes piercing daggers into Meadows. “You should just kill me now, because this is a waste of your time. And I’m sure you know the A-Team isn’t going to waste theirs.”

Meadows narrowed her eyes and gave a theatrical sigh. “I should’ve known you’d make this difficult.” She nodded to John, standing at the entranceway.

Y/N spat again, this time to rid her mouth of the taste of blood. She steeled herself for the next onslaught, compartmentalizing every emotion outside of her fury. Her mind raced to salvage and scrutinize the memories from her time in CIRG, trying desperately to identify what Meadows could be looking for in the surveillance reports. The Believers hadn’t even been on the Bureau’s radar. The reason had to be linked to their interest in Spencer… a piece of information that involved both Spencer Reid and the existing surveillance data. A single grain that could bring the whole damn bushel down.

She heard a scuffle at the entrance of the room and raised her head. Her heart jumped into her throat at the sight of Spencer, bloodied and bruised. John dragged him into the room, throwing him down onto his knees in front of Y/N. His eyes tracked over her face and clouded over with an emotion she couldn’t quite place.

“Shit, Reid—”

“I’m fine—I’m sure it looks worse than it is,” he murmured. The concern in his eyes told Y/N she looked about as bad as she felt. “Are you all right?”

“I should’ve seen it. I should’ve known—”

“No,” Spencer interrupted. “This isn’t your fault. We all missed it.”

“What’s the end game here?” Y/N asked. “What’re they doing?”

“I’m going to be their last victim.” Spencer shook his head, barely able to keep himself upright. “I don’t know why, but I overheard them. There have been hundreds.”

Meadows stepped up behind Spencer, grinning at Y/N. “Have you changed your mind? I sure hope you have.” She raised her gun to his head. “Because if you don’t do what I want, I’ll blow his big, beautiful brains out.”

Spencer locked eyes with Y/N. She held his gaze for a moment, then tilted her head slightly as the gears started turning. The tie between Spencer and Benjamin was where it all unraveled. “No, I don’t think you will.”

Meadows’ grin faltered for less than a second, but it was long enough that Y/N knew she was right. “Is that right?” Meadows questioned.

“Yeah, it is.” She furrowed her brow, and Spencer looked at her. “You need him, don’t you? Alive.” Meadows’ tongue darted out to wet her lips, and Y/N was sure. “Because this isn’t just about Benjamin Merva. It’s about Benjamin Cyrus. It’s about Liberty Ranch.”

Meadows held her gaze for five seconds, then ten seconds. Y/N raised her chin, refusing to be the one to blink first. Meadows shifted the trajectory of her gun a foot to her right and fired off one shot. The breeze from the bullet shifted Y/N’s hair.

“You have two minutes to decide,” Meadows advised. The phone in her hand began ringing. “The next one won’t miss.” She answered the phone and stepped out.

Spencer spoke quickly. “Do whatever she’s asking. We have to get you out of here.”

“Reid, are your eyes broken?” Y/N snapped. “There’s a cult loyalist with a machine gun every five feet. You got a plan for that?”

“Listen to me.” His voice was calm, determined. “You’re right about them wanting me alive.”

The frustration bled through Y/N’s voice. “You should have just shot her.”

He shook his head. “I couldn’t do that.”

“You could’ve shot all three of them and ended this in the garage,” Y/N argued.

“And then I would have watched you die,” he said quietly. “That was never even an option.”

“I’m failing to see how that would have been any worse than this. Look at us.” She gestured wildly between them. She watched as the storm of emotion returned, a cyclone swirling in seas of gold and brown. “The team needs you. Spencer, I—” I need you. She reached a hand up, almost touching his face before dropping it back in her lap. He had found the chink in her carefully constructed armor; a fissure he’d fractured a little further with every smile, every look, every moment. All at once she knew she’d never be able to keep him out, no matter how much it might hurt.

“You’ve got one minute,” Meadows barked, hovering over them.

“Y/L/N, listen to me… Please...” Spencer’s voice was thick with tears. “Tell my mom—” The phone rang again, and Meadows stepped away to answer it. Spencer dropped to a whisper. His eyes flashed with urgency. “They’re taking me and Theo. We’ll distract them. The car we were in is right outside the door. We’re 18 minutes from Quantico. Turn left outside the parking lot, take a right at the light, you’ll recognize the rest. They stay off the highways.”

Y/N’s voice was frantic when she asked, “What about you?”

His eyes pleaded with her to respect what he was asking her to do. “I’ll delay them. Get the rest of the team back here. And do not worry about me.” John hauled up him off the floor.

“Time’s up.” Meadows, in a rare display of mercy, allowed them a hug.

Spencer leaned into her and Y/N wrapped her arms around his shoulders. She squeezed as hard as she could and whispered his name. She felt him take a deep breath into her hair, holding it for one impossibly long moment. Just before she released her hold on him, he mumbled, “It’s all happening. 10:23.” John dragged him back out the way they’d came.

“I gave you what you wanted.” Meadows ordered, “Get to it. Now.”

⧭⧭⧭

Y/N worked and waited, then watched and worried. Spencer spoke to Meadows. He was stalling her, offering a deal, boosting her ego, granting Y/N the opportunity to mentally prepare. But no matter how much time he gave her, she would never be prepared to leave him in that warehouse. He met her eyes across the movements of the operation and gave her an imperceptible nod before lunging forward to reach for John’s gun.

Chaos exploded throughout the warehouse. Theo ran in one direction, accosted by half a dozen Believers. Spencer and John tussled over the gun, one fighting for control and the other fighting the inevitable. Y/N sprinted, largely unnoticed, toward the huge sliding doors left slightly ajar. Bursting out into the night air, she immediately spotted one of the black sedans, unbelievably unlocked and with the keys in the ignition. She slammed the door behind her, turned the key, hesitated with her eyes on the door and her mind on Spencer for one moment too long. A single gunshot sounded from inside the warehouse.

Meadows raced out of the doorway, gun drawn. “Stop!” She pointed her gun at Y/N and there was nothing to do but step on the gas. Y/N had her eyes wide open as Meadows bounced off the windshield and onto the asphalt. She didn’t look back.

She drove. Left out of the parking lot. Just a dark, rural road—nothing particularly special or descript. She drove. Right at the stoplight. Then it was, just as Spencer said, familiar terrain. She wondered how it was possible to have seemed so far away— a world away— when it was right under their proverbial nose. She drove.

Her brain navigated of its own volition. Her mind couldn’t have been farther from the inside of the vehicle. She didn’t realize she’d arrived at the Bureau until she was attempting to pull into her usual parking spot, only to be met with her own abandoned car.

She turned the car off, left the keys in the ignition, and nearly floated out into the garage; up the elevator; across the cold floors of the lobby. Her body had walked this same path so many times before; it carried her without hesitation. She could hear the voices of the team, drifting through the open glass doors.

“She accepted their help knowing she would betray the government,” Tara deduced.

“Not every survivor wanted help,” JJ clarified.

Rossi continued, “We ran those who left the ranch and kept their names. A few relocated in rural Maryland and Virginia.”

“They could be helping now,” Luke suggested. “Any of them have large pieces of property?”

“A few,” Emily confirmed. Y/N turned the corner as she continued, “The Washington field office has started searches in Maryland. We’ll take the lead in Virginia.”

As she moved into the doorway, JJ’s eyes went wide and she rushed to Y/N’s side. “Oh my god, are you hurt?” She gently grabbed Y/N by the shoulders.

“It’s a warehouse in Hillcrest,” Y/N said flatly, eyes unfocused. “I can take you there, but we have to hurry. They hurt Reid; he looked— bad. He told me to r-run and take the car, but he’s still there.” Everyone headed for the doors except JJ and Garcia. “They won’t be there long, they have lots of trucks.” Y/N’s eyes locked on JJ, and for the first time since the whole ordeal started, she allowed herself to splinter, just a little. “I heard a gunshot. JJ, I heard a gunshot. I tried—”

“Shh, it’s okay,” JJ nodded, drawing her into a hug. “I know. I know you tr—”

“I left him there.” Her voice broke, but she couldn’t cry. Not yet. “I couldn’t get him. There was no way to save hi—”

“Stop,” JJ ordered, pulling out of the hug. “Y/N, look at me. You got out, you got back to us. If you hadn’t, we wouldn’t even know about the warehouse.”

“What if— what if I got him killed?” Y/N asked.

“You didn’t get anyone killed. Spence knew what he was doing.” JJ’s voice softened. “That’s what he does. He always figures things out before the rest of us. He has a plan and getting you back to Quantico was part of it.” She raised her eyebrows, making sure Y/N was listening. “And now we have to help him by putting the rest of it together.”

Y/N ran a hand over her face. “You’re right. Of course, you’re right.”

Garcia stepped forward and laid a hand on her arm. “Let’s get you cleaned up. Then we’ll get Reid back.”

They cleaned the blood from her face and hair as best they could in the bathroom sink. JJ patched up the lacerations with steri-strips. Back in the conference room, Garcia insisted she should get screened for a concussion as Y/N rubbed the knot on the back of her head. “There’s no time. Reid said, ‘It’s all happening. 10:23.’”

“But it’s past that,” JJ considered.

“So what did he mean?” Garcia asked.

“Could be a clue here.” Rossi's voice came over the speakerphone from inside the warehouse. “They got sloppy since they left in a hurry.”

“Okay, well you can’t be that far behind them,” JJ insisted.

“I know,” Emily agreed. “But there’s easy access to three major highways, and we don’t know which way they went.”

“Right, but they’re in tractor trailers. That means we can track them through weigh stations.”

“Garcia?” Emily prompted.

“In order to do that, I’d need the transponder identification numbers,” Garcia answered.

“Which we have no way of knowing,” Rossi sighed. “Everything they used was almost definitely forged.”

“We’re going to do another sweep here, and then we’ll head back,” Emily said. “Try to map out the most likely routes they’d use to get out of dodge.”

JJ hung up and looked to Y/N. “What do you remember about the warehouse?”

Y/N pressed her fingers into her temples. “It was full of supplies. They were disguising them, but they had stockpiles of weapons and ammunition; non-perishables and other food items; water. Enough to be off the grid for at least a year.” Y/N leaned back in her chair. “But it wasn’t just about The Believers. I mean, we know they’re a reincarnation of the Separatarian Sect.” She looked at JJ and Garcia. “It was more than that, though. Reid was at the center of everything; he was the target all along. Merva is the messiah, but it somehow all comes back to Spence.”

“Makes sense. They blame him for the downfall of the Sect,” JJ supplied.

“Yeah.” Y/N cracked her knuckles. “But—and I can’t—I can’t really explain it, but Meadows really wanted to kill Reid right then. She was— she was irritated, more than anything else.”

“So what stopped her?” Garcia asked.

“That’s what I can’t figure out. She threatened me with it, with ‘blowing his brains out,’ but I— called her bluff. And she was pissed.” Y/N rapped her knuckles on the table. “I mean, really, really furious. Which tells me that, even though she wanted to,  she couldn’t kill him.” She looked between the two of them. “Merva was pulling the strings, and he wouldn’t let her do it there.”

“So it matters where the final sacrifice takes place,” JJ concluded. “We’ve got to figure out where they’re going.”

⧭⧭⧭

They’d been rehashing the details over and over. Liberty Ranch, The Strangler investigation, The Believers, Meadows, Merva, Cyrus, 300 victims, the hyoid bones, all of it. About the only thing they knew for sure was how far the cult could get in the trucks. Spencer could have told them the exact square mileage, but the potential geographical range of the trucks was dauntingly large. Y/N tried not to panic as she stared at the map.

“If this is about a Believer's rebirth, babies are born with 300 bones,” JJ said. “And they’re taking the hyoids.”

“And the hyoids we had in evidence are missing, which means Merva needed them back,” Tara reasoned. “And that means they mean more to the end game than we thought.”

Y/N felt her patience waning. “But why did Reid need us to know it all happens at 10:23?” Y/N hated that her voice sounded snappy and desperate. “That’s got to be important. It’s the last thing he said to me.”

Matt put his hand on her shoulder. “Listen, you’re right. It means something to him. We’re trying to figure it out.”

“Yeah, well, we better figure it out soon.” Y/N shrugged off his hand, pushed back from her seat at the conference room table, and turned for the door. She couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. Every minute they spent floating ideas was another mile between them and Spencer. Another moment closer to losing him. She shoved the bathroom door open, hurrying into the stall and emptying the contents of her stomach.

She slumped back against the side of the stall, head gently knocking into the cool metal. She needed to pull herself together. The team was always strongest when they did their group think sessions, building upon each other’s knowledge and perspectives and filling in the gaps. If they’d done more of that earlier— if she’d had the confidence to call it out as soon as she saw the holes, Spencer might not be locked in the back of a truck, hundreds of miles away.

Y/N hoisted herself off the ground and out of the stall. She braced her hands on the counter top and tried to breathe evenly. She turned on the water and splashed her face, tapping against her cheeks. With water dripping down the planes of her face, she stared herself down in the mirror, willing her tired brain to make that last connection, to find that missing thread. It was all about the Benjamins, and she had a feeling that Cyrus was the key.

Y/N rolled her shoulders back and made her way to the conference room. She listened to their rotating conversation, knowing that this team was the only group of people capable of getting Spencer back alive.

“We have confirmation that there’s been no activity in or around the old ranch,” Matt informed them, pocketing his phone.

“If this is about rebirth, they’ll choose a new place,” Luke posited, arms crossed.

Tara leaned over the table. “Given their adoration of Cyrus and his love for the country, he’d want them to stay within our borders.”

“But Benjamin Cyrus wasn’t his real name, and he wasn’t born into the Sect,” Y/N reminded them quietly. Everyone turned to look at her. She gave an apology grimace to Matt. He just shrugged and smiled, motioning her over to the table.

Garcia nodded. “Right, let’s see. Uh, he and his mom arrived there when he was a teenager. He was kicked out for molesting girls. And then he served time in prison in Kentucky.”

“And that’s where he found religion,” Y/N recalled, thinking back to the report she’d studied dozens of times. “So he was reborn as Benjamin Cyrus in Kentucky.” She closed her eyes and flipped through her mental file cabinet, looking for 10:23.

“That’s within the area,” Garcia confirmed. “Maybe that’s where they’re headed?”

“Find out what city he was born in or where he was in prison,” Luke said. “We’ll spread out from there.”

“He found religion,” Y/N repeated, mostly to herself. “Chapter ten, verse twenty-three. 10:23 isn’t a time.” Y/N shook her head and then dragged her hand through her hair. “It’s scripture.”

“Let’s get in the air; we can narrow down which verse and city before we land,” Emily instructed.

⧭⧭⧭

“We’re approaching Kentucky; the pilot needs to know where to touch down,” Rossi informed them.

The team was scattered throughout the jet, scrolling through scripture on their tablets, reading out verses. Y/N held her chin in her hand, eyes unfocused, dragging a net along the furthest corners of her mind.

“Hey guys, listen to this,” JJ said. “Matthew chapter ten, verse twenty-three: ‘When you are persecuted in one place, flee to another.’”

“They’re going to the next town,” Emily said.

“Flee to the next town. But which one?” asked Garcia.

“Their end game is also a new beginning,” Rossi explained. “Cyrus brought religion back to the cult. They’d honor that by wanting to start fresh.”

Y/N raised her head. “Like the Garden of Eden.”

“That’s how 300 fits,” Tara concluded. “That was the number of angels that protected the Garden of Eden. Are there any Edens in Kentucky?”

The sound of Garcia tapping across the keyboard came through the laptop. “Um, no, but there are two synonyms: Canaan and Arcadia.”

“Cyrus is the original messiah. Which one is closer to where he was born?” Y/N asked.

“Arcadia,” Garcia informed them.

Y/N stood up. “That’s where they’re going.”

“Garcia, pull land deeds. I’ll notify SWAT,” Emily instructed.

JJ grabbed Y/N’s hand. “We’re going to get him.”

Y/N met her eyes. “I just hope we’re not too late.”

⧭⧭⧭

The new compound proved easy to find. In the middle of nowhere but illuminated by hundreds of lights, there were rows and rows of tents. The team began strategizing, looking for the best route to Spencer.

Emily tried to convince Y/N, now showing clear concussion symptoms, to stay with the SUVs.

“With all due respect, there is no way in hell that I’m going to sit in this car while Reid gets sacrificed by a homicidal cult leader,” Y/N said. There was a hushed pause, the team exchanging knowing glances.

“Fair enough,” Emily conceded. “Matt and JJ, I want you on the left side. Luke and Tara, the right. Dave and Y/N, you’re with me. We’re clearing every tent; eliminate any threat that would give away your position.” She unholstered her gun and swept her eyes across the team. “Our objective is to extract Reid with minimal loss.”

As they approached the first line of tents, Y/N could faintly hear Spencer speaking. “To everything there is a season, and a time for every purpose under heaven.” Her heart hammered against her ribcage. “A time to be born and a time to die.” She could feel the blood rushing through her ears. “A time to weep and a time to pluck up that which has been planted.”

“Okay, he’s stalling,” Meadows snapped. “That’s enough!”

“All right. Let the sacrifice begin.” That was Merva now, riling up the followers. “Protect us from all harm.”

As Merva led The Believers in a monotone chant, Y/N tried to block it out. She scanned a tent, watched as SWAT took out a bodyguard, looked for Spencer. Rinse and repeat, again and again. It was taking too long.

“And we thank Our Guardian, who will protect this family now and always,” Merva’s voice rang out. “Spencer: keeper of provisions!” Y/N saw the gathering of followers, but she couldn’t see Spencer.

The SWAT commander stopped them. They had reached the final line of tents. He signaled to the leaders on each side. They were ready to strike.

Y/N’s eyes scanned the crowd. She could just barely make out some sort of hanging mobile, white u-shaped decorations suspended from string. The hyoids, she realized, a wave of nausea hitting her like a truck.

Merva continued, “You have given selflessly to others and will be rewarded by the highest honor we could bestow. Your blood will be our blood. Your life will fuel ours.”

A gunshot rang out. The followers gasped. There was a split second of calm before the bedlam. Y/N took a single breath. Then she heard Matt yell; saw John lift his rifle and be felled by a solo shot to the head; watched Luke take down another bodyguard directly after.

And then she saw him. Strapped down under a canopy of bones, Spencer was silent and unmoving. He didn’t struggle. He didn’t call out. And there was Merva, knife in hand— still trying to complete his mission.

She didn’t vacillate, barely breathed, just let her legs carry her forward. She heard Emily call out his name. When Merva turned, the curved blade of the knife poised at the column of Spencer's throat, Y/N’s trigger finger compressed. She felt the gun recoil, felt the force of the shot travel up her arm as she put a single bullet in his chest. As he fell, she didn’t stop, just stepped over him, knew one of the others would take care of it.

She tripped over the small platform Spencer was restrained on, stumbling and holstering her gun. Her hands moved over the straps, loosening the one over his waist, then the ones at his hands, finally pushing the leather from his head. He panted and muttered his thanks, but she didn’t dare speak, afraid that if she did, she’d never be able to stop. Instead, she flung her arms over his shoulders, pulling him down and close and over her heart. She wondered if he could feel the way it pummeled against her chest, because to her it felt like it might smash through at any moment. His arms came around her, chin resting on her shoulder, nose in her hair. She heard him inhale and hold his breath, a mirror of that last moment together in the warehouse. She held onto him as an overboard sailor holds a life ring: single-minded, unrelenting, desperate.

There was a touch on her opposite shoulder and Y/N swung around, adrenaline still racing through her veins. JJ put her hand out in a placating motion, and Y/N came back to herself, allowing JJ to step forward and help Spencer off the platform. Y/N let out a breath and reached a hand out to steady herself, only to flinch when it brushed one of the straps that had held Spencer down. Luke caught her on one side, Tara on the other. She grasped at them, her emotions teetering right along with her physical form. Luke pulled her out from under the macabre canopy and into a hug. Tara held her hand. For the first time since the parking garage, she let herself go.

⧭⧭⧭

The jet was quiet. The team was spread out around the cabin, each of them lost in their own heads. There was a tranquility over the space, one that only ever happened when unmitigated relief overwhelmed even the joy or fulfillment of a life saved.

Y/N sat in one of the single seats, across the aisle from where Spencer was settled. Tara and Luke had finally convinced her to get checked out by the EMTs, who had confirmed her concussion. She convinced herself that the fuzziness on the corners of her vision was just a symptom of that, not a product of the tears she was struggling to hold back.  

The team each stopped by Spencer’s seat, patting his shoulder, squeezing his hand, or in Rossi’s case, gently ruffling his hair. They all spoke briefly in hushed, grateful tones. All except Y/N. She couldn’t formulate a sentence that seemed adequate. There was simultaneously too much and nothing to say. Everything felt contrived or insufficient or intemperate.

Spencer was safe. They hadn’t been too late. He was bruised and undoubtedly sore, but ultimately, he’d been through worse. So why was her heart still aching? Why couldn’t she catch her breath? She hadn’t spoken more than a few words since leaving the raid, so why did her throat feel like it was on fire? She closed her eyes, leaned her head back. She incessantly pressed her hands together, trying to crack her sore knuckles over and over again.

A pair of hands gently closed over her own, stopping the abuse, and she didn’t have to open her eyes to know who they belonged to. His thumbs stroked over the backs of her hands and she cursed the tears that spilled over her bottom lashes. He didn’t say anything, didn’t force her to look at him or acknowledge her shattering. He waited her out, rubbing a rhythm on her skin and steadying her without a word. She opened her eyes but couldn’t bring herself to look at him just yet. Instead she focused on their joined hands, reciprocating the gentle pulses he gave every so often.

She turned her head to wipe her wet cheeks on her shoulder as the landing announcement came over the cabin speaker. She did look at him then, and the emotion in his gaze left her feeling raw and exposed. Their hands reluctantly separated to buckle their seat belts. Y/N closed her eyes again, turning her face into the warmth of the early morning sun as the jet began its descent.

When they landed, everyone wearily shuffled off the plane, eager to get home to their beds. Penelope met them at the elevator, enveloping Spencer in a long hug, the rest of the team smiling at their embrace. They each moved through the bullpen, gathering their things and talking quietly. Y/N’s eyes paused on her bag, brought up from the parking garage by one of the team after she’d gone missing. They lingered for a long moment on the case file, still sitting where she’d left it hours ago, before she let herself let it go. She grabbed her bag and turned to see Spencer standing in the aisle, hands in his pockets and eyes fixed on her.

“Hey,” she said dumbly.

He smiled. “Hi.”

Her hands wrung the straps of her bag. “How—how’re you holding up?”

“I’ve been worse.” He shrugged. “How’s your head?”

“I’ve been worse,” she agreed.

“That’s good. Because I think after all that, the least you could do is give me a ride home,” he joked.

Y/N knew he was trying to reassure her that he was fine, but she couldn’t bring herself to laugh. If anything, his attempts to provide comfort made her feel worse. Because she couldn’t forget the sound of the gunshot at the warehouse, the sight of the knife at his throat, the feeling of nearly losing someone whom she knew she could love if she just had more time. Too exhausted to hide her emotions, she could tell by the change in Spencer’s eyes that the pain was apparent on her face.

“Actually, you probably shouldn’t be driving, even if it’s just a mild concussion. Where are your keys?”

“It’s fine. I’m all ri—” Y/N started.

“I know I phrased that as a question, but I’m not really asking.” He held out his hand.

Normally she would have argued, but she just didn’t have the energy. Y/N dug into her bag, fishing out the keys and dropping them into his hand. He closed his fingers around them and jerked his head toward the door. “Come on,” he murmured. He waved to the rest of the team, and Y/N nodded, avoiding their eyes.

The ride in the elevator was silent. The walk to the car, too. They were pulling out of the garage before Spencer finally broke the silence.

“You know this wasn’t your fault, right?” he asked. Y/N stayed quiet. “We all missed the connection to Liberty Ranch.”

“But I knew something was off, and I didn’t say anything. I— I almost came to find you before I left, and if I had just done that—”

“Y/N,” Spencer interrupted. “The plan was already in motion. Meadows and Merva would have just figured out another way to execute it.” His fingers tightened on the wheel. “And without you and the leads from the warehouse, the team might not have figured it out in time.”

Y/N opened her mouth before realizing she didn’t have a response. She didn’t even want to consider that possibility. She leaned her head against the window, pressing the thumb and fingers of one hand into her eyes to stave off the throbbing.

Graciously, Spencer let her remain in silence the rest of the ride to her apartment. There was so much to say, especially now; she didn’t know where to begin. And even after everything, she couldn’t stop herself from bringing up that wall— protecting herself from what she knew could hurt her more than any unsub.

They pulled onto her street, fairly empty at such an early hour. Spencer parked in front of her apartment, opening the car door and coming around the other side of the car. She expected him to give her the keys, but as she exited the car, he waited by the gate for her. “I’ll walk you up.”

Spencer opened the gate, allowing her to walk through before closing it behind them and following her up the sidewalk. “I need the keys,” she told him.

He shook his head as if to clear it. “Right, right.” He placed them into her outstretched hand, and she wondered if she imagined his fingers lingering over hers.

When they reached her door, she unlocked the deadbolt and swung the door open, stepping over the threshold. He waited outside, hands in his pockets. Y/N rolled her keys in her hand, and Spencer watched them.

“Um— thank you for—” Y/N started.

“I told Emily on the jet, and I’ll tell you now.” Spencer raised his eyes to meet hers. There was that look again, the one she couldn’t quite identify. “I’ve always had a hard time saying what I feel. And maybe sometimes it’s because I’m afraid of being disappointed. But sometimes it’s because the words I’m looking for don’t exist in the English language.”

“Spence—”

“Please just let me get this out,” he said. “There have been a couple moments over the past few months where I thought maybe we were sharing mamihlapinatapei.”

“Mamih what?” Y/N asked.

“Mamihlapinatapei.” He repeated, gesturing with his hands. “It’s a Yagan word that originates on the Tierra del Fuego archipelago off the southern tip of Argentina. It translates succinctly as ‘the wordless, meaningful look shared by two people who both desire to initiate something, but are both reluctant to do so.’”

“Oh.” Y/N felt a flush rising up in her cheeks.

Suddenly, Spencer couldn’t meet her eyes. “I, um—I wasn’t sure, and I didn’t want to do anything that would jeopardize our friendship or make things awkward at work. But last night, I… I just— I’ve had too many moments in my life where I thought it might be my last, and I hadn’t said all the things I needed to say.” He met her eyes again, and there was that familiar storm. “Last night I was out of time, and I hadn’t told you how I feel, and I realized that I wouldn’t get another chance, and it’s okay if you don’t feel the same, but I needed to—”

Y/N stepped forward, grabbed the front of his shirt, and crashed their mouths together. She tried to pour everything into the kiss: every blush, every worry, every laugh, every panicked moment, every mamihlapinatapei. Spencer cradled her face in his hands, opening his mouth and capturing her bottom lip, accepting everything she gave him. She wound one of her hands into his hair, pulling him impossibly closer and grounding herself to this new reality that almost wasn’t. The height of the kiss tapered off, and Y/N drew back, untangling her fingers from his hair and her heart from his grasp. Spencer watched her carefully, honey eyes uncertain.

“I do. Feel the same,” Y/N confirmed. Spencer’s lips twitched. “I’m not good at vulnerability. I’ve got a great track record of getting hurt.” Spencer grabbed her hand and opened his mouth, but Y/N continued, “But then I thought we might lose you, that time was out, and that I— I wouldn’t get the chance to see if you could be— if this could be more.” She gestured between them and then met his eyes again. “And I guess being vulnerable isn’t so bad in comparison. Because I think I could fall in love with you. I think maybe it’s already happening.” She held her breath and pressed her lips together, fighting the regret of saying too much.  

“Actually, there’s a word for that, too.” Spencer smiled, warm and soft and genuine. “Forelsket. The origin is Norwegian, and it roughly translates to ‘the euphoria experienced as you begin to fall in love.’”

“Forelsket?” Y/N asked.

“Well, it’s more like forelsket,” Spencer corrected.

“Wow, okay, 187.” Y/N laughed for the first time in what felt like days. “Forelsket.”

“Better,” Spencer praised. “There’s also the Tagalog version, kilig.”

Y/N took a step closer to him and smoothed his shirt where her hands had wrinkled it. “Translation?”

“‘The sudden feeling of an inexplicable joy one gets when something romantic happens,’ or alternatively ‘the feeling of butterflies in your stomach.’” Spencer moved his hand to her waist and stepped over the threshold.

Y/N cupped his cheek in her hand, soothing the bruises and guiding him back to her. “Yeah. Sounds about right.”

[five-rivers]

Medium Despair

For @sapphireswimming

.

Danny woke up gasping for air and fighting against his sheets. By the time he’d recognized his surroundings, he’d already rolled off his bed. He dragged in ragged, shuddering breaths. He could breathe. He could breathe. He wasn’t suffocating. He wasn’t at school, in his locker or otherwise. He could move he could stand. He did stand, skin prickling with the memory of electricity.

“Sydney?” he called, softly. “Is that you?” He could see a glowing form in the corner behind his dresser, and with that dream there weren’t a whole lot of other people it could have been, but it was polite to ask. At least in Danny’s opinion.

The ghost slid out, slowly, flickering. “Sorry, Danny,” he said, and he really did sound remorseful.

Danny might believe it more if it wasn’t 2:20 in the morning on a school night, and this wasn’t the third time Sydney had done this. Still, Sydney was something like a friend.

“What is it, Sydney?” he asked. “Did something happen at the school?” Casper High was one of the most haunted buildings in Amity Park, which honestly didn’t make sense.

Danny had done his research. The school was old, sure, but Sydney was the only person who had ever actually died there. That didn’t stop the Lunch Lady, Technus, and a whole host of others from hanging around the place, although most of those others were pretty weak. Hardly strong enough to even interact with Danny or other ghosts.

Sydney shrugged.

“Then what’s wrong?”

Sydney looked down at the ground. The puddle of not-light he cast on the ground – visible only to only Danny and other ghosts – rippled and glimmered.

Danny frowned. “I have fun talking to you during the day, Syd, but I do have to sleep. I’m human, you know?”

“I know,” said Sydney.

“So why are you here?” asked Danny, briefly spreading his arms in exasperation and the dropping them to his sides again. He was still unsettled by the dream he’d just had.

Being close to ghosts while he was sleeping was just a recipe for nightmares. They weren’t always about their deaths, but more often than not…

Sydney’s death was a particularly unpleasant one. Danny did not expect to get back to sleep. Not tonight. Hence his annoyance.

“I need to…” started Sydney, before trailing off. “I need…”

“Sydney?”

“Warn you.”

“About what?”

“Not what they seem,” whispered the ghost. He looked away and phased out through the wall.

Danny’s frown deepened. Usually, Sydney was much clearer than that. Sometimes, talking to Sydney, Danny forgot he was talking to a ghost.

Danny sat down at the edge of the bed and tried to work a kink out of his neck. He caught himself scratching at his skin as if he wanted to pull it off a minute later.

It was always like this since the accident. Especially after he had a dying dream.

Forcibly, he stopped himself. His skin was fine. There was no electricity flickering under his skin. He was alive. He was safe. His body was his body. His body.

(He was not floating above it, light as air, staring at its waxy pallor, at the glassy, empty eyes.)

He was alive, alive, alive.

Awake.

Not dead.

Slowly, he laid back down on the bed. He was alive, awake. A medium, yes, associated with more ghosts than could possibly be healthy, either physically or mentally, yes, but alive. Definitely, clearly, alive.

He didn’t like it when ghosts woke him up. Especially when they came with ominous warnings about the future.

Maybe Sydney would let Danny track him down tomorrow, but Danny doubted it.

.

“Something’s off,” said Danny, staring up at the tall front of the school.

“Yeah,” agreed Sam, “it’s Spirit Week. When the teachers participate in medieval rituals to brainwash us into supporting the troglodytes that ‘represent’ our school in sports.”

“I was going to argue,” said Tucker, “but that is about what it’s for, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” said Danny, “I don’t think it’s that. Probably. Unless there’s a ghost that appreciate the pun?”

“You appreciate puns.”

“I’m not a ghost,” said Danny, frowning at Sam.

“That’s true.”

Danny sighed. “I just have a bad feeling about this. I know you can’t see like I can, but… be careful. If you do see anything weird, let me know.”

“Hey, Danny!”

“Oh, I changed my mind. Kill me now, I want to be a ghost.”

Jazz ran up and threw an arm around Danny’s shoulders. “You left so early!” she said. “Are you excited about Spirit Week, too?”

“No,” said Danny.

Jazz paused, looked at Danny more closely. “You look terrible,” she said. “Maybe you should talk to the counselor?”

“Pass,” said Danny.

“You know, you’ll have to talk to me in more than monosyllables at some point.”

“Do I?”

Danny rolled his eyes.

“Anyway, I’ve got to go to talk to Mr. Lancer about my speech! Have a great Spirit Week, guys!”

She ran off.

“I will never understand her,” declared Sam. “But I think she does have a point about the counselor. Maybe they’d be able to help with the nightmares? At least the non-ghost-caused ones.”

“All my nightmares are caused by ghosts.”

“Eh,” said Tucker, giving a half-shrug.

“Will it make you feel better if I agree to go?”

“Yes,” said both Sam and Tucker.

“Ugh. Fine,” said Danny.

.

Danny walked though the deserted hallway, pass in hand, study hall abandoned behind him as he looked for the counselor’s office. He’d never been there before, but it should be around here somewhere, right?

A cold hand settled on his shoulder.

“You must be Danny Fenton! Your sister told me all about you.”

Danny turned to look up at a tall woman. She was dressed a lot more flamboyantly than Danny would have expected.

“Yeah? That’s me. Who are you?”

“I’m Penelope Spectra. Your counselor! Why don’t you tell me what’s wrong with you?”

“Uh,” said Danny. There was something unpleasantly an unexpectedly pejorative and assumptive about that statement. Weren’t counselors supposed to tell you that there wasn’t anything wrong with you? That your feelings were valid.

He shrugged. He couldn’t put his feelings into words.

(Couldn’t open his mouth for fear of cold leaking out past his teeth, his soul exhaled with his breath.)

(Why did he feel this way?)

“Why don’t you step into my office?”

The room was… not what he expected.

“Sorry about the dust,” said Spectra. “I’m just moving in. They upgraded me.” She smiled, showing all her teeth. “So… like I said, your sister told me a lot about you, and I have a few things I’d like to try for your laz—Excuse me. Your difficulty with staying focused. It happens sometimes with traumatic brain injuries, that a promising young mind can be—Well. In any case. I am here to support you and find a way for you to succeed. What’s troubling you?”

Danny’s ginger perch on the dusty chair turned into a frustrated slump. “Nothing,” he said. He pushed himself back up. “I should go—”

“Oh, just humor me,” said Spectra. “There has to be some reason you came. Anxiety? Stress? Social pressures?”

Danny shook his head and stood up.

“Nightmares?”

He sat back down.

.

Danny leaned over the table to whisper to Tucker during English, when they were supposed to be reviewing vocabulary words.

“Have either of you seen the counselor before?” asked Danny, after what was easily the worst week of his life. He was starting to have suspicions, but…

“Yeah,” said Tucker. “When you were in the hospital. He was pretty cool.”

“He?” asked Danny. “He?”

“Yeah?”

“I’ve been seeing a ghost for the past week.”

“Ghost therapist? Well, if it’s working…”

“It isn’t. She’s from hell. I swear. A literal demon from hell.”

“Exorcism?”

“Exorcism.”

.

Jazz didn’t often come to school after hours, but she’d left several important things and she was the student body activity director, voted for and everything.

Important thing #1, her speech, which she had to practice.

Important thing #2, the—what was that?

Already spooked by the late-night atmosphere, she ducked into a doorway and peeked at the place she’d seen movement. There weren’t many classes held down that hallway, and she didn’t come down this way often, so maybe she was just—

No. That was her little brother and his friends conducting some kind of satanic ritual over a wastepaper basket.

Their parents were terrible influences. She was going to give them a stern talking to when—what what what what WHAT—

What had she just seen?

She looked back around the corner to see the… whatever it was dissolve in smoke and fire and shadows. Then Danny and his friends started cleaning up as if this was a perfectly normal Thursday night.

Jazz… Jazz was going to process this. Later.

She turned around and walked straight back out to her car. There was, after all, nothing that important.

.

“So,” said Danny, leaning towards Sam on the bleachers as he watched his sister give her speech. “Looks like we saved Spirit Week.”

“Never say that to me again,” said Sam.

“But we did. Look at all this spirit-filled people.”

“You were literally the only victim.”

“But Sam~”

“It does seem less grim, though, doesn’t it?” asked Tucker, contemplatively. “You are no longer the goth bird of happiness.”

“Maybe a bit,” allowed Sam. “I think that’s just because everyone’s glad this week is over, though. No offense, Danny.”

“None taken. I’m glad it’s over, too.”

[honey-dewey]

Between Old Friends and New Lovers

Pairing: Shane ‘Dio’ Morrissey/GN! Vampire Reader

Word Count: 3,000

Warnings: blood, biting, mind control, but it’s all very minor.

Permanent Taglist: @phoenixhalliwell @star-wars-hell​

A/N: This is my first time making a header of sorts for my fics! I quite liked how this one turned out. 

The prompt for this week’s Writer Wednesday was given, as always, by the lovely @autumnleaves1991-blog​, and the masterlists are created by @clydesducktape.

The manor was always cold. Not that you minded much, but sometimes the ever-present chill in the air drove away your guests. Again, you didn’t mind all too much. Guests were never your forte. But he, well. He was always different. 

“Your Grace?” Your lady in waiting, Camille, came into your study, bowing her head down. “You have a visitor.” 

“Is it his visiting day already?” You asked, checking your date book. 

Camille nodded. “Yes, Your Grace. It is.” 

You smiled, putting down your pen and moving from out behind your desk. “Thank you kindly Camille. Send him to the sitting room and inform him I shall be down momentarily.” 

Camille left, and you hummed to yourself, straightening out your papers and setting your pen back down next to its respective inkwell. As you worked, you reminisced on the day you had met your favorite human being. 

Two years prior

You sighed, listening to the rain slam against the windows as you worked on a few neglected pieces of paperwork. It was mostly finances, but it all had to be done, and so you were doing it. Tonight was supposed to be horribly rainy, with scattered thunderstorms and no sign of stopping until the sun rose. You didn’t mind. It made hunting harder, but you didn’t need to hunt for a while. 

A sharp bolt of lightning lit up your study, and you finally shut your accounting book, deciding your work could wait until after the storm passed. You stood, pushing your chair back in. Office work was annoying at best. You’d much rather see people in person, share a cup of tea, and continue to build your reputation as the mysterious gothic Duke/Duchess who lived almost entirely alone. But paperwork, it seemed, was easier to send, and it meant most people could avoid your often intimidating presence. 

“Camille!” You called through the manor, shutting and locking the study. “Camille?” Usually your lady in waiting was somewhere nearby, working on her own work within earshot. But now, you had to tune your hearing up past what was normal to hear Camille’s pattering heartbeat and nervous breaths. Why was Camille nervous? She’d been serving the manor for three years, she’d stopped being nervous in the old building last year. 

“Camille!” You shouted, moving towards the sitting room she was inhabiting, worried for her safety. She should’ve alerted you immediately to a guest, and you were starting to grow concerned. Her heart rate spiked, only for a moment, and you heard her rushing footsteps coming towards you. 

“Yes, Your Grace?” Camille asked, rounding the corner and looking up at you through her eyelashes. “You called?” 

You nodded, dialing back your hearing so Camille’s close voice didn’t overwhelm you. “Have we got a visitor?” 

Camille bowed her head, nodding slightly. “I was just setting him up in the sitting room,” she said quickly. “I was about to come get you as soon as he was settled.” 

Smiling at the reassurance, you began to walk to the sitting room, where Camille had just come from. “Walk with me,” you said, and Camille hurried after you. “Is the man lost?” 

“Yes, Your Grace,” Camille said, walking a pace behind you. “He said his car broke down and he saw the manor. He asked for shelter from the storm.” 

“How is he?” You asked, already envisioning the man settled in your sitting room. “Healthy?” 

Camille nodded, her face going pale. “Yes, Your Grace,” she responded. “He’s young and seemingly in good health.” 

The sitting room doors came into sight, and you smiled, turning to Camille. “How do I look?” 

“Perfect,” Camille responded, glancing at the ornate silver-backed mirror in the hall. Only she showed up, standing beside the silhouette of your clothes. You straightened your collar, running your fingers over the two neat lines of shining buttons before adjusting your gloves and pushing the sitting room door open.

Immediately, you noticed the smell. Deep and foreign, you had to dial your senses back further than you normally would to stand it. Leather and cologne and a deep internal lust mixed with the smell of the city. He was from New York City, you could practically taste it on him. He looked odd, but no odder than you, decked in all black and leather, every bit of metal on him glimmering in the low lamplight as he moved. You took a breath, but no silver. You were safe. 

Looking the man up and down, you tried to silently determine whether he was one of you. You knew that the younger generation preferred to stay in cities, and called themselves goth in order to maintain the aesthetic. But despite his unique, timeless features, the man smelled organic and human, and you could hear his heart beating, a steady constant in the back of your hearing. 

Your guest stood, and you smiled politely. “Welcome,” you said sweetly, clasping your hands in front of you. “I apologize for not welcoming you to the manor myself.” 

The man smirked, looking you up and down. “No problem,” he said smoothly. “Nice place.” 

“Thank you.” You sat in a chair in front of the fireplace, crossing your legs and gesturing for your guest to sit beside you. “Family estate. Would you like a fire?” You noticed the man was wet, and you assumed he’d been caught in the storm. 

“I wouldn’t mind one,” the man agreed, and you gestured Camille over. 

“Camille, would you mind starting a fire?” You asked. “And when you’re done, I would love some tea.” 

Camille nodded, exiting the room and leaving you alone with your guest. 

“May I have your name?” You asked politely, turning your full attention to the man. 

He nodded. “You can call me Dio.” 

“Dio.” The name turned over like a fine wine on your tongue. “A bit of a presumptuous nickname, don’t you think?” 

Dio raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know what you mean,” he said slowly, in a tone that told you he knew exactly what you meant. 

You stood, moving to stand in front of the fireplace. “I mean, calling yourself a god. Albeit in a different language, but still. Even I wouldn’t go that far.” 

“Even you?” Dio questioned, leaning back in his chair. “Explain.” 

“Well.” You gestured around at the ornate sitting room, at the dark embroidered seat cushions and the deep wooden surfaces surrounding you. “It does seem rather on brand for someone of my status, does it not?” 

Dio’s smirk returned. “Of course,” he said, digging through his pockets and pulling out a box of cigarettes. “Instead you call yourself Duke/Duchess.” 

“It would be improper of me to not,” you pointed out. “It is, in fact, my title. You, however, have no title, Shane Morrissey.” 

Dio’s face went pale and the cigarette dropped from between his fingers, hitting the carpet below his feet with almost no noise. “How-“ 

At that moment, Camille pushed the door open, rolling in a cart with firewood and a tea tray. While she busied herself with the fire, you sat back down, taking Dio’s cigarette from the floor, lighting it on Camille’s match and handing it back to the stunned man. “I usually don’t allow guests to smoke,” you said casually. “But I suppose I can make an exception. Just this once.” You pushed an ashtray across the table, smiling. “You were saying?” 

Dio blinked, wide eyed. “How do you know-“ 

“Your name?” You finished for him, accepting an empty teacup from Camille and nodding to her when she set the tray on the table and left once more. “I could see your identification card in your pocket when you reached for your cigarettes. But if you would prefer to be referred to as Dio, I will do so.” 

Dio seemingly relaxed. But he was still on edge as you poured yourself some tea. 

“It’s a lovely black currant tea, if you’re interested,” you said, not even looking up as you poured the thick black tea into your cup. “I see Camille brought two cups.” As you spoke, you took the cream jug and poured a splash into your tea, setting the jug aside from the rest of the set. “I promise it isn’t poison,” you added sweetly, taking a sip of your tea. 

Despite your humorous remark, Dio still seemed cautious, waiting until you had taken a sip to pour himself a cup of tea. He didn’t add sugar, simply sat back and cradled the cup in his hands. You wondered if he was still cold. But the fire was going and you could feel it warming your skin, even if the feeling of warm and cold were long since lost to you. 

“So, Dio,” you said, watching Dio take a sip of his tea. “You live in the city, don’t you?” 

“Yes.” Dio’s voice was guarded, hesitant. He was scared of you. 

You hummed, nodding to yourself. “I haven’t seen the city,” you admitted. “Do you enjoy it?” 

Dio shrugged. “It’s alright.” 

You sighed. “Dio,” you said firmly, forcing his attention to snap to you. “Do I scare you?” 

“What?” Dio asked, surprised. “I mean.” His eyes went glassy as you waved your hand, forcing him to tell the truth. “Yes.” 

“Why?” 

Dio’s hand shook, spilling tea over his skin. “I-“ he faltered, blinking a few times, face pulling tight. “I don’t know.” 

You waved your hand again, releasing Dio from your hold. “Maybe I should explain,” you said, standing and setting your cup down. “I am (F/N) (L/N), sole heir to my name and the last remaining Duke/Duchess of this land. I have held my title and estate for over twelve decades, and I am a vampire.” 

Dio was silent, so silent you had to wonder if you had broken him. But eventually, he nodded slowly, setting his cup down. “Okay,” he said softly. “Okay.” 

“You’re not dreaming,” you added helpfully. “Nor is this a hallucination caused by the tea.” 

“Yeah,” Dio agreed quietly. “What about Camille, is she?” 

“Oh of course not!” You said, sitting back beside Dio and picking up your cup again. “No, we don’t keep preternatural staff anymore. Her family has been in service to my family since long before I was born, and she seemed happy enough to have the job once I reached out. I do pay quite well.” 

“Anymore?” Dio wondered out loud. “Tell me more about vampires. I want to know.” He leaned forward in his seat, and you grinned. It was rare you revealed yourself to a guest and were met with anything less than terror. But Dio seemed downright enthused. So you poured yourself a new cup of tea, adding a generous amount of cream this time, letting Dio see that it was not cream, but blood.

“Well. Where to start?” You mused. “I come from a long line of vampires, one of the longest in fact. My family, my bloodline if you will, was once well respected, but during the witch hunts, most of my kind died out. My mother survived and lived in this manor, alone, for centuries until she found me. I was lost, a wandering child, and she took me in and cared for me, turning me when the time was right.” 

“So where is she?” 

“Long dead,” you said, peeling your gloves off and setting them aside. “I’ve been the master of this estate for, oh, I guess it must be almost ninety years now. Yes, I inherited it during the depression.” 

Dio nodded, his cigarette long since forgotten in the ashtray. “So, how do you survive? How much blood do you need? Are you like Dracula? Do you have any powers? What-“ 

“Dio!” You cut him off with a raised hand and a chuckle. “I cannot possibly answer your every burning question right now.” You stood, looking out over the storm, which was fading. “Here. Let us make a deal. I will send you home safely, with no complications, and in turn, I will entertain you once a month, on the first Saturday, and I will answer one question. Only one, until you are satisfied.” 

Dio nodded, glancing out the window. “How do I know you aren’t just messing with me about the vampire thing?” He asked softly. 

You smiled. “Come with me.” 

He followed you out into the hall, where you guided him to the mirror just outside the sitting room. “Look,” you said, gesturing to the mirror. “It’s an old heirloom. Silver-backed, so I don’t appear in its surface.”

Dio gently reached out, touching the mirror with feather-light fingers. “You’re not,” he breathed. “It’s real.” 

“It is,” you agreed. “Now, get going Dio. I’ll see you in one month. Don’t be late.” 

Two years later

You opened the sitting room doors, seeing Shane sitting in his usual spot, right by the fireplace. He was already cradling his teacup, your cup sitting on the table, perfectly set up to your liking. 

“Shane!” You said happily, and Shane stood, allowing you to hug him tightly. “You’re on time.” 

“When am I not?” Shane asked, pulling away and sitting back down. “Shall we?” 

You laughed. “We shall.” 

Your cup was full to the brim of blood, no tea this time. It was a feeding day, and as much as you hated it, Shane promised he didn’t mind. 

“Actually,” you decided, setting your cup down without taking a sip. “Perhaps we should do this a different way.” 

“What do you mean?” Shane asked, worried. “Did I make it wrong? Camille brought me the teapot. She said it was your favorite.” 

You shook your head. “No Shane,” you said. “You’re perfectly good. In fact.” You stood, offering him your hand. “You’re more than good.” 

Standing, Shane let you lead him to the window, looking out over your night-darkened estate. “I don’t understand.” 

“I don’t want some stranger’s blood,” You purred softly, pushing Shane’s shirt collar down. “I want you, Shane. I want to taste you on my tongue, to have your life filling my belly and making me warm.” 

Shane gulped, his skin heating. “Really?” 

“Would I lie?” You asked, almost pouting. “My love, I would never. Say the words, and I will make you feel amazing.” 

Nodding, Shane put a hand to the window to brace himself. “I give you permission,” he said, voice wavering. “You may feed from me.” 

You smiled, putting your mouth to his neck and kissing, trailing to the perfect spot. He shivered, moaning softly when you nipped at the tender flesh of his neck. Curving your lips up at the shameless sounds you were eliciting from Shane, you finally found the sweet spot and dug your fangs in. 

If you thought Shane was vocal when you were just teasing, you were in for a surprise. As you lapped at the blood pooling on Shane’s skin, he writhed under you, moaning and breathlessly whining your name, both hands pressed fully to the window to keep stable. You licked a warm stripe up the curve of Shane’s neck, chuckling as he breathed heavily. “Do you like that, my love?” 

“Yes,” Shane gasped out. “Yes, I do, Your Grace.” 

You hummed, running a finger through the smeared blood and turning Shane around so he could see you suck his blood off your finger. “You taste exquisite,” you moaned around your finger. “So perfect.” You moved in again, licking up the last of the blood. 

Shane breathed loud against you, his breath disturbing your hair as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. “More,” he begged as you pulled away. “Please.” 

“No more my love,” you said, wiping your mouth on a nearby towel. “I will not push you, especially on your first feeding.” You gently pressed the towel to Shane’s skin, occasionally pulling it away and checking on the wounds. Two perfect little puncture holes, still seeping the tiniest bit, marred Shane’s smooth skin. “I’ll call Camilla, have her clean you up properly.” 

While you two waited for Camilla, you lay beside the fireplace, Shane laying in your lap as you held a book, reading aloud to him and stroking gently through his hair. 

“I was afraid to raise my eyelids, but looked out and saw perfectly under the lashes. The girl went on her knees, and bent over me, simply gloating. There was a deliberate voluptuousness which was both thrilling and repulsive, and as she arched her neck, she actually licked her lips like an animal.” You smiled, flicking the page and watching Shane’s eyes slide closed. “Lower and lower went her head as the lips went below the range of my mouth and chin and seemed about to fasten on my throat,” you read softly, urging Shane to sleep, to rest as you read. 

Camille came in, carrying a tray of healing supplies. You gestured for her to leave them on the table, and she did, smiling at the sight of Shane in your lap before she ducked out of the room. 

“My love?” You asked, laying the book down and grabbing the bandages. “My love, may I see your neck?” 

Shane reflexively turned, showing you the side of his neck you’d fed from. You carefully dressed the wound, humming to yourself as you did so. 

“I never got a question today,” Shane murmured, startling you. 

“Oh.” You set down the roll of bandages, carding through Shane’s hair again. “What do you wish to ask today?” 

Shane leaned into your hands, grinning slightly. “Can I be your boyfriend?” He asked softly. “In a strictly non-vampire way.” 

You smiled, nodding. “Of course, my love,” you answered. “Of course.” 

As Shane’s eyes fluttered shut once more, you picked up the book, determined to finish at least this chapter. With Shane in your embrace and the warmth of the fire surrounding you, you continued to read your newly christened boyfriend to sleep. “I closed my eyes in a languorous ecstasy and waited—waited with a beating heart.”

[omgrachwrites]

Running Into You - Joaquin Torres

Pairing: Joaquin Torres x Reader

Summary: After Torres helps you find your way to your college class, you always seem to run into him.

Warnings: fluff, so much fluff, Torres being adorable, swearing

Words: 1606

A/N: Joaquin Torres has my whole heart okay?? I really hope this isn’t too ooc! Hope you guys enjoy this one and please let me know what you think, I love you all! xxx

Panic filled your body like poison as you checked the campus map again – the map that made no fucking sense – and then you glanced at your watch. You weren’t late yet but if you kept this up for much longer then you would be late, you had had to transfer to a different college in the middle of the semester, and you hated being the new girl. Blinking back frustrated tears, you looked down the long winding hallways; you just wanted to give up. It was then that your saviour turned up.

“Are you okay, Miss? Are you lost?” at the sound of the warm, kind voice you whirled around.

You were met with the warmest chocolate brown eyes that you had ever seen. Tearing your eyes away from his, you looked at him properly and blushed when he gave you a lopsided grin that made his eyes crinkle. He was very handsome but not in an intimidating way, his smile was very inviting.

“Yes, is it that obvious?” you laughed, “are you a student here?” you asked but supposed that it was a stupid question since he was dressed in army gear.

“Me? No, I’m not,” he smiled, running a hand through his dark hair, “I was just making sure that my little sister actually went to her class. What lesson have you got?” he nodded at the schedule and map in your hand.

“Oh,” you mumbled, feeling flustered at the presence of the handsome stranger with the puppy dog eyes who was willing to help, “History.”

The man’s face lit up at once, “seriously? I just came from the History lecture hall! Can I walk you? I wouldn’t want you to get lost again,” he laughed as he held out his hand, “I’m Joaquin Torres, but most people call me Torres.”

You smiled as you placed your hand in his warm one and shook it, “Y/N Y/L/N, but most people call me, Y/N,” you giggled, “and I’ll be glad of your help, thank you.”

Torres laughed, his nose scrunching up in the process, “you’re welcome, Y/N. Let’s go.”

As you walked down the hallway, glad to have an ally, you glanced at Torres’ handsome profile, “so you said you just walked your sister to her class? I don’t know many brothers who would do that.”

Torres rolled his eyes as he scoffed, “found out that she was skipping her classes. Someone has to be the responsible sibling.”

You laughed, thinking that it was awfully nice of him, “what’s her name?”

“Ava, she’s a pain in my ass but I love her.”

The name Ava Torres sounded familiar, where had you heard that name before? Then it hit you, “oh! She’s my roommate but I haven’t met her yet, I was meant to be here yesterday morning but my flight was delayed and I didn’t get here till late last night. I didn’t want to disturb her so I crashed in a motel for the night.”

Torres clicked his tongue and gave you a sweet smile, “you didn’t have to do that, how come you transferred in the middle of the semester?”

Before you could stop it, the smile slid from your face, you could hardly tell a stranger that your mom was in her final months of life. You were the only family that she had left so you had moved to be close to her.

Before you could utter a word, Torres immediately starting babbling through an apology, “I’m sorry, Y/N. I shouldn’t have asked, I’m so goddamn nosy,” he almost winced.

You had to suppress a giggle, he was so adorable when he was nervous, “it’s okay,” you assured him as he glanced over at you, biting his lip, “it’s just easier for me to be in this city,” he nodded as he gave you an apologetic smile.

A gorgeous young woman who was about to walk into the lecture hall rolled her eyes as soon as she saw Torres, “I’m going to class, okay?”

Torres held up his hands in defence as he gestured over to you, “this is Y/N Y/L/N,” before he could introduce you further, the woman gasped and pulled you into a warm hug.

You giggled as you hugged her back, “I’m Ava, your roommate, it’s so nice to meet you!”

You grinned at Ava as she pulled away, “it’s nice to meet you too.”

Ava smiled at you before she looked over your shoulder to glare at her brother, “goodbye, Joaquin.”

You glanced at Torres as he stuffed his hands in his pockets and gave you a shy smile, “it was really great to meet you, Y/N.”

You flushed, your insides turning to jelly as you felt the warmth from his smile, “it was good to meet you too, Torres. Thank you for helping me find my way.”

“No problem,” he smiled as he began to walk away, glancing back over his shoulder to shoot you one last grin. You took one last lingering look at him before walking into the lecture hall with Ava.

Over the next few weeks, you became closer with Ava, it was natural because you roomed together and had class together. Ava was a really cool girl with a heart of gold – though she hardly ever showed it – she was a lot like her brother in that respect. She was tired of how protective Torres was of her but you thought it was really sweet and endearing. You hadn’t seen much of Torres since you had first encountered him in the hallway and you were fine with that but you were lying if you said that you weren’t feeling a little deflated.

One night, you were studying for your upcoming History exam when there came a knock on the door of your dorm. Ava grumbled, “that better not be my useless ex-boyfriend,” she pulled open the door and sighed, “what the hell are you doing here?”

There came a mutter of a reply, “left your jacket at my place,” you frowned and looked at Ava but you couldn’t see who was at the door.

Ava scoffed as she took her leather jacket, “I didn’t desperately need it, and I have tons of jackets. Why are you really here?”

The visitor ignored her as they popped their head round the doorway and you instantly felt butterflies swarm in your stomach, “hey, Y/N.”

“Hi, Torres,” you giggled, lifting your hand in a wave.

“How are you?” he began to ask.

Ava rolled her eyes, “seriously? Get out of here,” she pushed at her brother’s chest and slammed the door behind him.

A couple of weeks later, you were hanging out at the bar that Ava worked in when a honey like voice  filled your ears and made your blood fizz with excitement, “fancy seeing you here, Y/N.”

You smiled, inhaling a deep breath as you told yourself to play it cool, “Torres,” you turned to look at his handsome grinning face and you raised an eyebrow, “are you following me?” you teased.

Torres’ eyes widened as he held up his hands in defence, “oh God, no I swear! I’m just here with my friends,” he gestured over to the table of people who were sitting right by the dartboard before he hesitated, “you’re messing with me aren’t you?” he rolled his eyes playfully when you giggled with a nod, “can I get you a drink?”

“Sure, thank you,” you grinned, your heart skipping a beat when he gave you that famous lopsided grin and you spent the better part of the night getting to know him a little bit more.

The following week, you were watching shit TV, bored out of your mind when you heard a knock on the door. Glad for something to do, you jumped up and walked over to the door, pulling it open to see Joaquin Torres standing on the other side.

“Hi Torres, are you looking for Ava? She isn’t here right now.”

Torres shook his head, his eyes blazing with determination but you could see that he was nervous, “it was you that I came to talk to,” he sighed, resting his hands on the doorframe, “I should have said something before now. God, I should have said something, but I like you, a lot,” he laughed nervously, his eyes soft and warm as he grinned at you.

“Joaquin,” you gasped, placing your hands on his firm chest and you realised that that was the first time you had called him by his first name.  Your heart fluttered as your legs turned to jelly and you began to feel light headed at his intoxicating smile. It didn’t help that he smelled fucking amazing, like cinnamon with just a hint of cigarette smoke. You were glad that he felt the same, “I like you too.”

The smile that Torres shot you was breath taking and he rested a warm hand on your cheek. His gaze flickered down to your lips like he was waiting for your permission. When you nodded his warm lips covered yours, kissing you gently. You wound your arms around his neck, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck as you deepened the kiss, pulling at his bottom lip with your teeth. He grunted against your lips and allowed you access, shivering as your tongue brushed against his and you tasted the spearmint gum that he’d been chewing.

When Torres pulled away, his lips were swollen and his eyes were slightly dazed, “can I take you to dinner sometime?”

“I’d love that,” you grinned as you pulled him in for another kiss.

--------------------------------

@smiithys​ @amelie-black​ @elayneblack​

[tsukishumai]

Chemical Reaction - Kuroo Tetsuro

Summary: When the universe hands you a second chance, will you be able to move on from the mistakes of your past? 

college!Kuroo x fem!reader

a friends to friends w/ benefits to lovers type of deal.

Warnings: some light NSFW, slow burn, aged up characters, mentions of smoking, mentions of alcohol, fingering, cursing, and a little heartbreak. angst to fluff

Word Count: 7.3k (it goes by fast, I swear (′ꈍωꈍ‵))

A/N:  Jesus... this started out as a prompt, but it snowballed into whatever the hell this is. And it was supposed to be done by Kuroo’s bday T-T but better late than never! I poured in a lil extra love into this, pls give it a shot, lmk what you think, and I hope you enjoy !

Your history with Kuroo Tetsuro went back a little bit further than you’d like to admit.

He had been in your class for all three years you were at Nekoma, but you had really only popped onto each other’s radars second year.

He had been assigned the seat next to you, and while you were upset that your best friend, Eri, had been sat all the way across the room, you didn’t exactly mind the view.  

Right off the bat, you knew this was going to be trouble for you.

The guy was cute, funny, and smart. How hadn’t you noticed him before?

“Hey, L/N-chan,” he said, already making you blush with the addition of the honorific, “I have many chemistry jokes… but I’m afraid they won’t get a good reaction!”

You couldn’t stop either the face palm or the giggle that slipped out of your lips.

Kuroo was an easy person to get along with. He always greeted you in the mornings, and never really bothered you during class. On the rare occasion he stayed in the classroom for lunch, the two of you would strike up a conversation, but it never went past the surface.

Until about halfway through the school year. Your teacher had assigned a project that required a partner.

You looked to Eri, only to find the little traitor pairing up with the guy she had been eyeing since first year.

You sighed, not even mad at her for trying to shoot her shot.

“Want to be partners?” your head shot to the boy next to you.

“Uhm. Sure!”

And so it went like this; the project was due at the end of the year, requiring a research paper, and a 7 minute power point presentation.

Once or twice a week, the two of you would meet up at the school library either before school or after your club activities.

Kuroo was smart; smarter than you but you’d never say that to his face, so more often than not, the two of you would finish what needed to be done that day, and spent the rest of the time just talking, and getting to know each other.

By the third time the two of you had gotten kicked out by the librarian for laughing too much, Kuroo suggested meeting at his house on the weekends.

Surely that doesn’t mean what you think it means right???

It doesn’t, lmao. This guy was a good student, he made sure you guys finished your parts, because there was no way he was going to get anything less than an A.

Oh, you guys finished a little early today? Great! L/N-chan! Help me with my receives!

As the weeks pass by, there was a mutual progression in the relationship, neither of you seeing each other as project partners anymore, and falling into a comfortable friendship.

For Kuroo, that is. You, on the other hand, just became way too good at acting like you weren’t falling in love.

The school year is coming to a close, and you turn in your project.

Surprise, surprise! You guys got an A.

Seriously, the teacher said she was going to start using it as an example for the future students.

You couldn’t even be happy about your passing grade; you were too sad that your time with Kuroo was ending.

“Well, it was really fun being your partner this year,” you said, and Kuroo cocked an eyebrow at you.

“Why do you sound like someone’s dying,” he joked, “Anyway, Kenma said he bought a new game, but it’s multiplayer. What time are you coming this weekend?”

Bitch, ya heart nearly jumped out of your chest.

For a little while, you were content with things being like that. You had become good friends with not just Kuroo, but Kenma as well. You guys weren’t always together, but definitely made a point to make time for each other.

While you guys were usually busy during the week, club activities, homework and school taking up most of your time, Saturdays at Kuroo’s had become a thing well into your third year. As much as possible, you would try to attend his games, and he would try to bring you snacks when he knows you’re stuck studying.

You tried really hard not to read into the things he would do for you.

Surely, he’s also held Kenma’s bag while walking him home, right?

He’s memorized his whole team’s schedule; it’s nothing special if he also has yours memorized.

You know that he only brought you lunch today because he had to share half of his when you forgot yours.

All normal friend stuff, right! Right?!

“I met a cute girl the other day,” he said to you absentmindedly one morning before class.

Wait. Your chest shouldn’t feel so tight, should it? Your eyes are swimming, and your head is floating. Every breath feels like lead in your lungs, and you kinda wished the ground would swallow you whole.

“Oh, Really?” you tried to be nonchalant, and hoped he didn’t notice the shakiness in your voice.

He nodded. “Yeah… she’s kinda funny.”

But you were really funny, weren’t you? You were the one that made him laugh like a hyena, made him clutch his stomach and gasp for breath, right?

“Is that so?” your mouth felt like sandpaper, “Why don’t you try taking her out on a date?”

You wish you had never said those words.

You knew the girl he was talking about; you had seen Kuroo approach her in the hallway.

She was your teammate in the track and field club; not one of the fastest, but she was beautiful, kind, friendly, and Kuroo was right – she really was kind of funny.

“You should have told him first, you know,” Kenma had mumbled from next to you once, eyes never leaving his game while yours quickly shot him a glare.

It was just the two of you at the lunch table – Kuroo mumbling an excuse about having plans with another “friend”.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Kenma just rolled his eyes. “Whatever.”

You spend the next few weeks avoiding him; it was easier since he didn’t sit next to you in class anymore, you weren’t really replying to his texts as often, you stopped visiting him and Kenma at practice, and you had missed the game you had told them you would try to go to.

You were kind of starting to realize that it was mostly you that had to go and seek them out.

Now that you weren’t doing these things… where was he?

You would catch a glimpse of Kuroo when he would visit your teammate during practice; he would try to greet you but you’d only shoot him a tight smile.

So when you heard a loud knock on your door at eight o clock in the evening, the last person you expected was the roosterhead himself.

“Hey,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, “I could tell something was bothering you, and I’ve been trying to give you your space, but… it’s been weeks now so, I just have to know… Are you avoiding me?”

You didn’t really know what to say, if there is even anything else to. Even with your head down and eyes trained to your feet, you could feel the burn of his gaze.

“I...” the deep timbre of his voice always managed to give you chills, “I miss you.”

Is he fucking serious right now? He’s so smart, yet he can’t put two and two together? He can see his opponents’ moves before they happen, yet he can’t even see you standing right in front of him?

“I have feelings for you, Kuroo,” you blurted out before you could stop yourself.

Kuroo’s eyes widened by a fraction, his mouth slightly hung agape, dumbfounded by your seemingly random confession.

Except, it wasn’t random to you. You’ve been harboring these feelings for months, and after hurting yourself by staying silent for so long, you decided that you deserve better.

You’ll accept whatever the outcome, if that’s the price for your peace.

“Y/N…” it took him a long time to finally speak, and you try to ignore the fact that this is the first time he’s called you by your first name.

His face clearly showed his struggle to get the words out. “I’m sorry, I didn’t… I –“

You raised your hand. You didn’t really want to hear any more than that.

“It’s okay,” you said, giving him a small smile.

And with that, you shut the door on Kuroo Tetsuro.

You do your best to move on, smiling and laughing with friends you wouldn’t usually talk to you, ignoring the ghost of your past that haunt you every time you walked passed by Kuroo and your teammate down the hall.

You throw back a laugh at whatever the person next to you had said, turning away to miss the fact that Kuroo’s eyes always followed you wherever you went.

Graduation day came and in the blink of an eye, your days at Nekoma were behind you.

The days passed, the seasons changed, the flowers bloomed, and then they died.

You started university, moving to a different city and living with the very same best friend whose betrayal to quench her own thirst became the catalyst for your greatest heartbreak.

You’ve forgiven her for that though, you guess.

Life in college was the breath of fresh air that you needed.

New things to learn, new places to discover, and new faces to help you forget the scars of old ones.

Years pass by, and while you’ve allowed yourself to feel the touch of others, allow them to make you laugh, allow them to make you cry, you’ve never really allowed yourself the luxury of falling in love again.

Who has time for that any way?

Definitely not you. You just needed to finish your undergrad, and get into med school.

You had plans for your life, you weren’t going to compromise your dreams just for another person, and no matter whom you dated or how much they liked you, this fact had always rubbed them the wrong way.

You were finally starting your last year at your undergrad, quite possibly one of the most important years of college, what with your thesis, med school applications, and your entire future pretty much on the line, no big deal.

Your first class of the day was chemistry. You had been avoiding the last chemistry class required by your degree, all of your friends telling you that it was one of the hardest classes they’ve ever taken, and so naturally, you ran away for as long as possible.

The class wasn’t due to start for another fifteen minutes when you walked in, giving you a perfect opportunity to grab a seat of your liking.

You ended up choosing one in the third row – you knew that if you sat in the back, you wouldn’t pay attention.

You take out your laptop, books, and all required materials, using this free time to check any emails from your professors.

You were checking the time – 5 minutes left until class started – when you were interrupted.

“L/N-chan?”

Your feel your body stiffen up at the sound of a voice you hadn’t heard in years.

You turn your head to your left, hoping to all the gods that maybe you were mistaken.

“Kuroo?” you said in disbelief, and oh honey… you could not believe he was standing right before you.

Kuroo seemed like he hadn’t changed at all. His hair seemed a little bit more managed, he was a little bit taller, his muscles filled out his shirt better… but he still had the same goofy smile on his face, and that undeniably mischievous twinkle in his eye.

“What are you doing here?” you blurted out. “I thought you went to a university in Tokyo?”

“I did, but I transferred this year,” he said, “This university has a great marketing program.”

“I can’t believe it,” you mumble out, more so to yourself than him, “It’s been years.”

He gave you a smile. “It has.”

He took the seat next to you, much to your surprise. You almost wanted to open your mouth in protest, but what could you say? ‘You can’t sit there’?

You were thankful that the class had only gone over the syllabus, because you didn’t hear a word the professor said.

When you told Eri about it later, she just laughed.

“I always thought Kuroo-san was a nice guy,” she commented, her back turned while she cooked the both of you dinner.

“I never said he wasn’t,” you said, throwing back the rest of the wine in your glass.

“What, you still like him or something?” Eri teased, plating the noodles she had created and setting it in front of you.

“Of course not,” you grumbled, stabbing at the plate with a fork, and the amused look on Eri’s face tells you that her silence was just to placate you.

The next few weeks of the semester went by without any incident.

Kuroo stayed in the seat next to you, and you didn’t let yourself wonder why.

You were proud at yourself for being able to talk to Kuroo the way that you were; he still made the same stupid chemistry jokes in high school, but now you felt like you could laugh at them without choking on the air around you.

It was easy.

Until it wasn’t.

“Alright everyone,” your professor began one rainy morning, “We’re about halfway through the semester, and this is usually around the time I like to assign a little project.”

All of a sudden, you felt a strange feeling of déjà vu.

“Now, it’s only going to be worth about a third of your grade in the class, so I suggest not slacking off on this one. This is going to require a partner, and before you go texting your bestie that you want to ‘link up’, I’ve taken the liberty of assigning your partner for you.”

Oh, Christ. You were praying you wouldn’t get partnered up with a dead weight.

“When I call your name, raise your hand so I could introduce you to your new partner.”

You waited patiently for your name to be called, but Kuroo’s had been called first.

“Kuroo Testuro.”

Kuroo raised his hand.

“Your partner will be... let’s see here… ah, L/N F/N!”

No. No fucking way.

Your arm involuntarily raised, the professor nodding his head in acknowledgement.

You slowly turn to face Kuroo, who had an unreadable smile placed on his lips, your professor’s voice droning on in the background.

“Well,” he said, laughter laced in his words, “Isn’t this familiar?”

At first, you felt incredibly apprehensive at the thought of being partnered with your high school crush, but at the end of the day, you were actually incredibly thankful.

Kuroo was just as smart and diligent as he was back then, and you had every confidence that your project was going to get the highest grade.

You tried to make it a point to meet in public places – cafes, libraries, and the like.

But soon, Kuroo suggested that it would just be easier and more comfortable to meet at either your place or his.

He only ever came by when Eri was home too, which would have been fine if the smirk on her face didn’t make you so nervous.

You noticed that his roommate was always around when you came over as well. You learned his name was Bokuto, and though he was a little loud, his presence was actually a little comforting.

Honestly, it all felt so… nostalgic. Whenever you would finish your work for the day, then the two of you would spend the time talking, catching up, and laughing at stupid jokes, almost as if the two of you were friends again.

Almost like nothing happened between you at all.

“Hey,” you started one day, curiosity getting the better of you after a particularly steamy conversation about past relationships, sitting on the floor with your iPad on your lap and homework strewn about all over the living room floor, “Whatever happened between you and that girl from high school?”

Kuroo just gave you a sad smile, and you thought she must have broken his heart pretty badly.

“Oh that…” he waved it off, “That was a mistake. A big one.”

You figured it was better not to ask any more questions.

Eri walked out of her room soon after Kuroo left that night, her arms crossed and leaning against the door’s archway as she watched you wash the dishes.

You guys are getting pretty close,” she mused.

She couldn’t see you roll your eyes. “Well, yeah, we were pretty good friends in high school.”

Eri let out a humorless laugh. “I stand by my statement that Kuroo-san is a nice guy,” she said, walking up next to you to place a hand on your shoulder, “But I haven’t forgotten how long it took you to get over what happened.”

Your hands stilled in the soapy water for a second, but you chose not to say anything.

“I’m just saying,” Eri started to walk back to her room, calling out her last words behind her shoulder, “Be careful.”

Eri’s words echoed in your head whenever you were with Kuroo.

Every time he offered to pay for your food, you made sure to insist you’d pay for it yourself. If he tried to grab your bag from your shoulder when you walked, you’d hold on tighter and say you were fine.

You didn’t avoid him like you did before, but you made every attempt to keep him at arm’s length.

It seems your attempts were all for nothing, however, when the semester ended.

“Amazing job,” were the words that came from your professor when giving your passing grade.

“We did it,” Kuroo said happily, the two of you making your way out of the class, “It’s finally over.”

“Thank god,” you laughed back.

“Hey,” Kuroo started, though he was looking at everywhere but you, “Bokuto’s gone and visiting his boyfriend for the weekend, but I was wondering if you wanted to come over for drinks later?”

You blinked, trying to even your breathing.

“You know, to celebrate the end of the semester, and acing that nightmare class.”

You should say no, right? Wait, but you’re grown now. You’ve moved on from what happened back then. The two of you did work really hard this semester, what’s wrong with celebrating your achievements?

“I think we’ve earned it,” Kuroo laughed.

“Yeah,” you said, and you were glad for it just from the smile that spread on his stupid face, “We really have! I’ll be there.”

“See you at eight?”

You nodded at his words as he waved goodbye, going your separate ways.

Ten hours later, you were sitting next to Kuroo on his living room floor, sake cup full to the brim as BNHA plays on his TV.

“Ah, Deku’s in the hospital,” Kuroo slurred, sake sloshing out of his cup when he pointed to the screen, “That’s a shot!”

The two of you threw back the warm liquid, and you were kind of worried that it didn’t taste like anything anymore.

“Kuroo,” you laughed, “We’re only on the second episode… and I think I’ve taken, like, twelve shots at this point.”

“This was your idea!”

“Well, I have another idea,” you started to get up, causing Kuroo to get up as well, “Let’s order take out!”

He laughed at your red face, agreeing with you.

You started to make your way to the couch, but all of a sudden, you felt dizzy, a head rush taking over your senses as you stumbled over your feet.

Kuroo caught you before you could hit the floor.

“You okay?” he laughed, and the sound of it elicited a laugh from your own lips.

In a second, the two of you erupted in giggles, snickering at nothing in particular while his strong arms still held you in place.

Suddenly, you were hyperaware of his touch on your skin, and you let your eyes trail from the strong hands around your waist, to the golden honey eyes that were already staring at your face.

You can’t exactly remember how, but the next thing you knew, you were pinned under Kuroo on his bed, his soft lips moving in tandem with yours while his hot tongue took over your whole mouth.

Your arms were looped around his neck, and he slid his calloused hands up your arm.

You felt his hands grip onto your wrists before he pulled them off his necked and pinned them onto the mattress.

You took in a deep breath once he disconnected from your mouth, planting a trail of kisses along your jaw line and down to your neck, before you slid his tongue across your supple skin.

You shivered, acutely aware of the fact that he has you trapped.

“Be careful,” Eri’s words echoed in your mind.

Fuck, you tried to think but it was hard when Kuroo just threw his shirt across the room, hovering over you with chiseled abs and defined muscles.

The heat returned to your body when he lowered his head, and popped a hard nipple into his mouth.

Your body arched at the feel of his teeth grazing against your skin, goosebumps racing when he dipped his hand beneath your underwear, a slender finger gliding down your folds before inserting into you.

You weren’t prepared for the intrusion, and he captured the gasp that came out of your mouth with his lips.

He was now holding down both of your wrists with one hand, never realizing that he was that much bigger than you.

He slid out his finger, bringing it to his mouth to give a long lick, before dipping his hand back down, and pushing in two.

You threw your head back when Kuroo curled his fingers, wondering how the hell he was able to find your g spot so quickly.

You felt like an animal caught in his trap, caged in with your arms pinned down, no choice but to let Kuroo draw out your orgasm while he pumped and curled into you, circling his thumb over your swollen clit.

Your legs were shaking while you screamed out his name, embarrassed that you were cumming so hard when he hasn’t even actually fucked you

He didn’t give you a chance to recover from your orgasm

In one swift movement, Kuroo let go of your hands and pulled out his fingers so he could grab a leg in each hand to fold you over in a press.

You don’t even know when Kuroo had taken his pants – or yours – off, and you didn’t have time to wonder.

A moan escaped your lips at the feel of his length filling you up, and you distinctly hear Kuroo tell you to say his name.

“Kuroo,” you moaned, bringing your hands to his shoulders, grasping at his body.

Every buck of his hips shot a jolt of pleasure throughout your body, unable to escape the feeling with Kuroo holding you down in place.

Who the hell would want to escape from here anyway?

“My first name,” he growled, quickening his pace when he felt your walls tighten around his dick.

“Tetsuro!” you screamed without a second thought, the brutal rhythm Kuroo has set driving heat onto your stomach, repeating his name over and over even after you feel your pussy gushing all over him, your cum dripping down from his shaft to his balls.

“Fuck,” Kuroo growled out, driving into you one last time before he spilled hot white, trying hard to catch his breath while coming down from this high.

The two of you lay together in the darkness for a while, your head on his chest and his arms around his shoulder.

The silence that surrounded the room was comfortable; almost like a bubble of peace that neither of you wanted to pop by saying anything.

“Be careful,” Eri’s fucking voice told you, yet again

While you didn’t regret what had just happened between you and Kuroo, doubts were beginning to creep in your mind.

What the hell was supposed to happen now? You’re not sure if Kuroo was expecting this outcome when he invited you over for drinks, but it happened, and you’re not really sure where to go from here.

You’ve already built a life for yourself – one that was truly yours – and you had a path that you had every intention to follow.

Would Kuroo be like every other guy and run away when he finds out you’re not compromising your plans for him? Would you even want to try to fit him into your plans?

You shake your head.

Jesus, get a grip. A guy dicks you down /once/, and all of a sudden you’re thinking about this shit?

“Y/N? You okay?” He asked from beside you.

You lift your head from his chest, sitting up so you could lean your back against his headboard. Kuroo was quick to mirror your actions.

“Kuroo,” you begin to tell him, and he frowned a little at the sound of his last name, “That was… amazing.”

Kuroo blushed a little at your compliment, though he knew it didn’t stop there. “…But?”

“But,” you bit your lip, “I’m not really looking for anything serious right now.”

Kuroo didn’t respond right away, but maybe that’s because you just kept babbling. “It’s just… I have so much going on with school, not to mention grad school applications are due in a few months, and who knows which university I’ll end up going to after graduation…”

You finally had the courage to look at him, and you caught a glimpse of what you would have thought was sadness in his eyes if it hadn’t been blinked away so quickly, soon replaced with that same unreadable smile.

“Whatever you want, Kitten,” he replied, “This doesn’t have to be anything more than what it is.”

You let out a breath of relief.

He walked you home that night (or morning, considering it was 1am), still trying your best to set boundaries even though you pretty much let him thoroughly wreck you.

He didn’t give you a kiss goodbye, instead sheepishly waving when he sees you entering the door to your apartment, saying he’ll shoot you a text tomorrow.

You thought things would be weird between the two of you after that night, but you were happy to find that it wasn’t.

You had managed to rekindle your friendship with Kuroo – meeting up to study, grabbing lunch if you had the time, maybe catching the occasional movie.

Though, you didn’t tell Eri about the added benefits.

(Kuroo Tetsu-hoe) Today: 12:37AM

You up?

[To: Kuroo Tetsu-hoe] Today: 12:49AM

Yeah, doing my Lit. paper.

(Kuroo Tetsu-hoe) Today: 12:50AM

Wanna do me instead?

[To: Kuroo Tetsu-hoe] Today: 12:58AM

Say less.

ou didn’t have to tell Eri about the added benefits – she wasn’t dumb, where else would her roommate be going in the middle of night?

You’ve had other men before, going through your fair share of sexual experiences before climbing into bed with Kuroo.

But he was still managing to show you new things, reaching spots you never even knew existed before, putting his mouth in places that made your eyes water and lungs burn from gasping for air.

You can’t explain the feeling you get when he’s running his hands across your body, and when he stares at you and nothing but you while he’s pumping into you and making you feel so full in more ways than one, it’s something akin to a chemical reaction.

There was one time, when he took a belt, secured it against his head post before he brought your legs up to –

“Earth to Y/N,” Kuroo said, waving a hand in front of your face.

“Sorry,” you said, shrugging your shoulders, “I was having a flashback.”

Kuroo smirked, knowing exactly what you meant.  

The two of you were lying in bed, your back against his chest and a strong arm wrapped around your waist.

You laid your hand on top of his, fiddling with his fingers and reveling in the calm that always came from being with Kuroo.

“What you thinking about?” You ask, and the way he stiffened up in your grip let you know that something really was bothering him.

It took him a little longer than you’d like before he replied.

“Do you ever feel like… you want more?”

This time, it was you that stilled in his arms.

“Be Careful.”

You turned around to face Kuroo.

“I thought we talked about this?”

Kuroo’s eyes searched your face, for what, you have no idea. But you stared back with just as much intensity, hoping that he would find the answer he was looking for.

Fear. That’s what was written all over your face.

Kuroo let out a humorless laugh. “Forget I said anything.”

He stood up to put his boxers on and slipping on a shirt before heading out onto the balcony that was attached to his room.

You gave him a few moments before getting up to gather your clothes from the floor, silently putting them on before you joined him outside.

You find him leaning against the balcony railing on his forearms, a cigarette lit in one hand.

He doesn’t turn his head towards you, but he does offer his cigarette, and you take it quietly.

You bring the white filter to your lips, taking a deep drag, closing your eyes when you feel your head get lighter, and releasing the smoke from your lungs.

“Kuroo,” you started, voice nothing but a soft whisper, “I’m sorry… I didn’t – “

He raised a hand to stop you.

“It’s fine,” he replied. “Like I said, forget I mentioned anything.”

He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“Hey,” he said, taking his cigarette back from you and taking a drag himself, “Kenma’s having a party this weekend. They’re inviting over some old classmates from Nekoma. He says he misses you. You should come.”

Your ears perk up at the invitation, excited at the thought of seeing your old friend and a little happy that he’s moving past the subject.

"Kenma? Is having a party?”

Kuroo laughed. “Alright. Yaku is having a party, but we’re doing it at Kenma’s place. It’s actually not that far from here, just one train ride.”

You chuckled, shaking your head knowingly.

“Yeah, I’ll go,” you agreed, “But, uhm… I’ll just meet you there?”

Kuroo nodded. “Yeah. I’ll just meet you there.”

You didn’t see Kuroo the rest of that week.

You weren’t sure what it was – he wasn’t ignoring you, he replied to your text messages and answered your calls.

But he hadn’t once asked you to come over. And after what happened that night, you were scared to ask him to come over.

The night of Kenma’s party came, and you entered to find way more people than you had expected. You didn’t recognize more than half of the people there, but relief washed over you when Yaku threw an arm around your shoulder.

You didn’t see Kuroo right away when you arrived, but you were too distracted at the joy from seeing some of your old classmates.

You were half way through a game of beer pong with Lev as your partner before Kuroo was able to make an appearance.

He made his rounds, saying his greetings to everyone before stopping at you, giving you a friendly one armed hug.

You didn’t want to admit that you were a bit sad at the generic greeting.

Was it because maybe… you want…. mor –

“Y/N! Shoot the damn ping pong ball,” Lev exclaimed, and you were shook out of your reverie. 

Kuroo excused himself, saying he was going to the kitchen to make himself a drink, but you were too focused on winning your game to notice.

Before you knew it, you lost three to two against Kenma and Yamamoto, cursing at Lev for forcing you to carry the team on your back.

By this point, the alcohol had spread all through your system. You were still able to walk straight, but with considerable effort. The words that came out of your mouth were just a little slurred, and you were kind of having a hard time controlling the volume of your voice.

“Where’s Kuroo?” you asked Yaku, who instantly shot a hand up to rub his ear.

“Jesus, woman, you don’t have to yell, I am /right here,” he grumbled, but he still let you sling an arm around his shoulders for support. “I thought he went into the kitchen to get some drinks?”

That’s right, he said that. But that was hours ago. Where could he be?

You stagger away from Yaku, pushing your way past unfamiliar bodies to get to the kitchen.

The first thing you saw when you tripped into the kitchen was Kuroo, dressed in a fitted black shirt and blue jeans, looking every bit the Greek God he was as he leaned against the counter. His arms were crossed atop his broad chest, a drink in one hand.

He was talking to someone, and you thought you recognized the long black hair that flowed from the back of their head, but were too distracted studying the veins that protruded from Kuroo’s forearms.

You opened your mouth to call out to him when the person in front of him stepped up, pressing their body into his. She uncrossed his arms and snaked two long arms around his neck.

You recognized her in that instant.

It was his ex from high school.

Looking down, you were surprised to see your clothes dry, because it felt like someone poured a bucket of ice water directly on top of your head.

“Be careful,” Eri’s words echoed in your head for the ten millionth time.

Yet here you were

In the same exact place you were a little over three years ago.

You scoffed at yourself.

Well, there’s nothing else for you here now, is there?

You shoot Yaku and Kenma a quick text in a group chat to let them know you were leaving.

The air outside was cold, your breath coming out in puffs. You wrapped your jacket around a little tighter, cursing yourself silently for not wearing a scarf cause it’ll ‘ruin the outfit.’

“Hey, the party’s that way.”

The sudden voice behind you nearly made you jump ten feet in the air.

“Jesus, you really are like a fucking cat.”

Kuroo chuckled.

For some reason, the sound made you angry. You kept walking, following the path of dimmed street lights that led you to the train station.

“Yeah, but home’s this way.”

His heavy footsteps trailed behind you.

“Great, I was getting tired of the party anyway.”

“What are you doing here?” You finally turned your head to him and asked.

Your voice was surprisingly clear and even, despite the unsteadiness of the ground beneath you.

“What do you mean? I’m walking you home.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s late, and you’re my friend.”

‘Friend’. The word made you wince, even though you were the one that drilled the idea into his head.

“I saw you talking to your ex,” you grumbled, crossing your arms and turning the other direction.

You could practically feel his smirk.

“Oya? Is that jealousy I’m hearing in those words?”

You felt your face get hot.

“Of course not!”

- “I thought we were just friends?”

“Will you shut up for once in your life, idiot!”

He wanted to tease you some more, but was stopped by the pensive look on your face.

“Why would you leave the girl that broke your heart behind just to walk me home?”

Kuroo looked at you with a confused expression.

“Girl that broke my heart?”

You nodded. “When I asked you about her, you said she was a big mistake.”

Kuroo stopped walking. You turned your head back to look at him curiously when he doubled over in a full bellied laugh.

“Are you laughing at me?!” You asked incredulously, giving him a glare from where you stood.

“You... you think she’s the one that broke my heart?”

Kuroo wiped a fake tear from his eye.

“Wow. That was a good one.”

“What the hell are you going on about, Kuroo?”

The jovial look on Kuroo’s face slowly faded, the entertained smile on his face shrinking his lips into a thin line.

“Y/N, she didn’t break my heart.”

Now it was your turn to be confused.

“You want to know why I said she was a big mistake?” Kuroo took a step towards you, “It was because of her that I lost you.”

Your jaw dropped.

Kuroo ran his fingers through his hair, ruining the perfectly waxed locks that he had spent thirty minutes styling.

“Please don’t run away when I tell you this.”

You couldn’t move your feet even if you wanted to.

“The only reason I ever brought her up to you in the first place was because I wanted to see your reaction. I wanted to know if you would get jealous. But without hesitation, you told me that I should just go ahead and date her, and you know dumb young men and their pride... then... it just... snowballed into something I didn’t even...”

Kuroo couldn’t finish his sentence.

Your vision begins to shake.

“But... but I confessed to you!”

“Yeah, then you slammed the door in my face and stopped talking to me!”

You couldn’t deny that.

“Do you have any idea how confusing that was for a teenage boy? I had no idea what the hell was going on, one day, I blinked and I was stuck with a girl I didn’t love while I watched my best friend smile and laugh and walk passed me like I never even existed.”

You swallowed the guilty lump that was caught in your throat.

“All I knew was that you weren’t around anymore; you weren’t there to make me laugh with your dumb jokes, you weren’t coming over and leaving your presence all over my room, nothing, it was all gone, and it all felt so fucked up. Being without you felt so fucked up.” 

Had Kuroo always felt this way? Were you really so busy running away from him that you couldn’t even see that he was hurting too?

“Now the universe or the gods or whatever brought me back to you, and it’s like everything makes sense again, and fuck, all I want to do is just show you how much I’ve missed you, how much I care, how much I love you.”

You gasped, and you were waiting for Kuroo to try and take those words back, but the resolve was painted in his eyes.

“But all you do is just keep me at arms length. You wanted to be just friends when I wanted everything.”

You choked back a sob, tears were now steadily streaming down your face.

Kuroo closed the space between you, wrapping one arm around your waist while bring his other head to wipe at your tears with the pad of his thumb.

 “She wasn’t the girl that broke my heart. You were.”

He moved to place his fingers on your chin, tilting your head up to force you to look at his eyes.

He wanted you to see that he meant every single word.

“If this is all you’re willing to give me, I’ll take it. I’ll break my own heart. Every day, over and over again, if that’s what it takes to be with you.”

His voice was in a whisper now, bringing his lips to kiss both sides of your cheeks.

“Because I love you.”

He brought his hands to cup for your face before pulling you in for a kiss.

This wasn’t anything like you’ve ever experienced before.

Every time his tongue brushed against yours, you felt all the love adoration he was trying to convey in this one physical act, hoping he could transfer it all into your lips.

It felt like time stopped just for the two of you, to have this moment in the middle of the sidewalk, bathed in the orange glow of the street light that hung above you.

He pulled away finally, resting his forehead on yours for just a second before he engulfed you with his arms.

His head rested on top of yours, feeling the vibrations as he spoke.

“I’m going to ask you one more time,” he said nervously. “Do you want something more?”

You wiggle out of his grip just so you can move your hands up to caress his cheek.

“Tetsuro... I love you so much.”

Later that night, in the safety of your room and away from Eri’s judgmental eyes at the two of you stumbling in and giggling through the door, you trace small circles on Kuroo’s chest with your fingers while Kuroo had an arm wrapped around you tightly.

“Hey, Tetsu,” you broke the silence with a whisper, “What if I end up going to grad school that was... further away?”

Kuroo couldn’t help but smile and shake his head. You were never going to change.

Not like he would ever want you to.

“Y/N... we didn’t talk for three years, and not once did I stop thinking about you. A little distance isn’t going to get rid of me.”

You try to bury your face in embarrassment.

If he had to spend every day of the rest of his life reassuring you that he’ll be by your side no matter what, well - that’s just too easy.

You find yourself holding onto him a little bit tighter, making a silent vow that never again were you going to push away Kuroo Tetsuro.

[peach-pops]

May i request a hc where the reader is a delinquent third year at Nekoma and Kuroo catches a glimpse of her panties as she climbs down the ladder to the roof 🥺👉👈

Thank you for the request! I made the reader a sexual delinquent so there are suggestive themes but this is still SFW! I added a bit extra cause I didn’t want Kuroo just to stare at her ass lmao.

Nekoma’s Delinquent HC

Kuroo may seem like the total bad boy type at first glance, but he really is such a goody two shoes

Just because he’s the attractive captain of a well-rounded volleyball team should not dismiss the fact that he is the top of his class and a full-on STEM nerd 

He has a pretty good reputation around Nekoma and he wants to keep it that way. 

UNTILLLLL you came around 

he was minding his own business after practice until he saw you sneaking into the equipment room in the gym 

Of course, Curious Kuroo follows you and peaks inside because who the hell is trying to sneak into the equipment room- fuck it’s you

Everyone at Nekoma knew you as the delinquent third year who was known to have a pretty bad reputation 

*Cue that Regina George scene from Mean Girls*

“ I heard when Y/N L/N was a first-year, she slept with any third year who would give her a pack of cigarettes!”  

“ Y/N gave ‘roadside assistance ;)’ to Kobayashi- Sensei and that’s why her grade in his class is so high!”

“ Her idea of tutoring guys is taking them up to the roof of the school to give them half-decent handjobs.” 

Kuroo was pretty sure that most of the rumors about you weren’t true and even if they were, your sex life was none of anyone’s business

Except for the rumor about you sleeping with a teacher because um hell red flags lock that teacher up!!! 

“ Can I help you?” Kuroo asked suddenly as you turned around to face him

Your skirt was purposely rolled up even higher to show off your bare legs and your white button-up that was rolled up to your elbows lazily had a few missing buttons at the top, revealing a bit of your chest

Kuroo concentrated on keeping his eyes above your waist but he couldn’t look you straight in the face without getting red so he focused attention towards the wall closest to you

“ I’m good, thank you though,” you said casually as you turned back around and looked through the equipment room as if you were looking for something important 

If you ever needed to study or have a smoke, you found yourself using the gym’s equipment room because it was usually fairly private and there was a window so you wouldn’t suffocate in your own smoke

Hardly anyone intimidated Kuroo. He’s a pretty big dude and people would be dumb to try and start shit with him but for some reason, he was so intimidated by you 

You were so fascinating to him, all these rumors and yet, you always managed to get right back up and keep doing you. You were also insanely attractive but Kuroo would never admit it out loud because he didn’t want to sound like a tool 

No matter how intimidated he was by you, he still needed to keep people out of the equipment room who weren’t allowed in there

“ I wasn’t really asking,” Kuroo said as he walked into the equipment room with his hands in his pockets,” what are you doing in here L/N-chan?”

He wasn’t sure what you were looking for, maybe something to steal and sell? Maybe you had hidden drugs in the equipment room and it was like your secret stash 

“ That sounded like a question to me,” You answered back as you bent down to look between a stack of boxes,” don’t worry, I’ll be out of your hair in no time Kuroo-san.” 

His breath hitched for a moment because he was so sure you didn’t even know who he was and from the silence that followed after, you were quick to notice his expression as you bent down to pick up the textbook you were searching for

“ Second year, Nakumura-Sensei’s physics class,” You reminded him as you swept some dust off the surface of your math textbook,” you sat a few seats ahead of me and you always blocked the chalkboard with that crazy hair of yours.” 

Kuroo didn’t need to be reminded, he remembered how you would usually stroll into class late and how during most of the period would consist of you either sleeping or on your phone

No matter how late you arrived, you always managed to smile towards Kuroo because you always noticed how he would stop listening to the teacher when you walked in 

“ I’m surprised you remember that, you were hardly ever conscious in class,” Kuroo laughed cautiously as you shrugged and walked over towards him

You stood next to him and rested a hand on his shoulder, making his body tense,“ Oh trust me, it’s hard to remember a face like yours.”

Kuroo only gulped as you squeezed his shoulder and walked out of the equipment room, leaving him completely stunned

His mind was all over the place because were you flirting with him? Do you just do that with everyone? Why was he getting worked up over a shoulder touch?!?!

More importantly, all he was thinking was how he wanted to see you again, even if it meant that he would be putting his reputation on the line

The next couple of weeks consisted of Kuroo keeping an eye out for you in the hallway and every time you two did happen to meet, you always smiled back at him and it always boosted his mood

He looked forward to seeing you in the halls, even if it was just for a few seconds because it meant that he was slowly making an impression on you 

all Kuroo wanted to do was have the chance to talk to you for a bit and get to know because damn, he was really falling for you just by seeing you in the halls

He talked about you so much to the point where Kenma had to invest in a good pair of headphones so he could tune him out

Kuroo usually minded his business when it came to drama but now, he was quick to call out shitty behavior whenever he heard people talk badly about you in class 

“ Did you see what Y/N was wearing today? I swear she’s asking for it-”

“ If you want to keep all of your teeth intact, I suggest you both keep her name out of your mouth.” 

That shut people up REAL QUICK 

Scary Kuroo is hot anyway 

Kuroo always felt protective towards any girl; he didn’t have any sisters but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t stand up for girls when it came down to it. 

He was sure you two would never really become friends since your interaction consisted of acknowledging each other in the hallway until he spotted you outside the gym after practice with a smile on your face

“ Finally, took you long enough to finish. Come on, I wanna show you something,” You said as you grabbed his hand and led him towards the back of the school

His brain was like holding hands??? With A Female??? That’s a first

In the back of Kuroo’s mind, all he could think about were the rumors. Was something going to happen between the two of you? He wouldn’t mind but he wasn’t exactly sure what you were proposing and if he was mentally prepared for it

He’s a virgin yall come on he’s a whole dork remember? 

He didn’t really start to freak out until you led him to the ladder that led to the roof because oh shit, all he could think about was the ‘half-decent handjob’ rumors

Kuroo was pretty freaked out to climb up on the roof-it wasn’t that he was scared of heights but what if they got in trouble??? 

Kuroo had two options; A) He could say no and just go home because he knew mentally and physically, he wasn’t ready for certain things to happen with the two of you if it got hot and heavy B) He could suck it up and climb the damn ladder because he’s been wanting an excuse to talk to you for weeks and now he finally has the chance

“ Ladies first,” Kuroo said as you gladly went ahead of him 

“ Okay scaredy-cat”

He started to climb up behind you but when he looked up to see how much farther he had left, he realized he could see up your skirt and his eyes were glued on your red lace panties  

Kuroo pulled his eyes away from you and wanted to bang his head against the metal ladder. Was this all part of your masterplan??? To seduce him??? Because oh shit it might be working

“ If you don’t mind, I can feel your eyes burning into my ass,” You said from above him as Kuroo stammered out an apology 

You smiled to yourself as you stepped up on the last railing and threw your legs over onto the roof 

Kuroo lifted himself up and peeked his head over the ladder. You tried to help him up but he shook you off and insisted he was fine

From his three years at being at Nekoma, he didn’t even know there was a greenhouse on top of the school ( high school musical 3 vibes) 

You walked past Kuroo and when he saw you sit next to the edge of the roof, he felt a bit more comfortable since who would give a handjob while sitting on the edge of a roof? 

He sat down beside you as you pulled out a cigarette and lit it with your lighter. You offered him a pack but Kuroo shook his head and watched you instead

“ L/N-chan, why’d you bring me up here?” Kuroo asked as you exhaled smoke

“ For the view, duh,” You said as you nodded your head off towards the horizon

Kuroo turned his attention to the skyline and you were right. The sunset was never something Kuroo particularly paid attention to since he usually distracted himself when walking home but with the cityscape off in the distance and the soft sounds of traffic, he could feel himself softening and relaxing more than before

“ You know you’re the only one who bothers to calls me L/N-chan,” You said after a moment as Kuroo turned his attention back to you,” why do you do that?” 

“ What else would I call you?” Kuroo asked as if there was any other option 

“ ‘Nekoma’s Delinquent’, ‘ Trashy Alleycat’, ‘ Whore-chan’, or the classic old ‘slut’,” You answered simply as Kuroo felt his chest tighten up,” those seem to be pretty popular nicknames for me.” 

He wasn’t even sure what to say and he felt guilty because of it. He had never heard people call you that ( he knew he would knock out any guy who talked badly about you)  but it wasn’t like he ever stood up for you for the rumors before

“ I would never call you that, those names are disgusting.”

“ Can you blame them? I’m sure you’ve heard rumors about my sexual escapades by now, I could tell from how nervous you were once you saw the ladder going up to the roof . And for the record, I didn’t bring you up here to give you a ‘half decent handjob’... Even if I did, I don’t think I would be that bad,” You said with a convincing smirk but Kuroo could knew you were hurt by the comments

“ Why did you bring me up here then? Don’t get me wrong, the view is great and all but even then, why me?” Kuroo asked as you put out your cigarette beside you

You weren’t sure why and that was the honest answer. Even though the two of you hardly ever interacted, you felt like an actual human being around him instead of a piece of meat. 

“ Well why did you agree?” You changed the subject as Kuroo found himself thinking of how much he wanted to reveal 

“ I think you’re misunderstood and I want to get to know you.”

“ Oh please, you just want something from me like the other guys.”

“ No- kinda- but not what you think. I mean, I want to hang out with you sure but nothing sexual. Sure, I think you’re really attractive but that doesn’t mean you’re obligated to do anything. I just want to get to know you, I swear,” Kuroo said genuinely as he saw your face soften,” your turn. Why did you bring me up here?” 

You inhaled deeply, as you played with your hands. Maybe, just maybe you had a small crush on Kuroo but of course, you would never admit it outloud

“ You’re...normal. You seem like a decent guy and honestly, nice guys are hard to come by nowadays, ” You said softly as he watched your demeanor change,” but you know if we hang out, people will say stuff.”

Kuroo couldn’t help but smile at your request. He felt like he was back in grade school when kids would just ask each other to be friends and that was that.

“ Trust me, if we’re friends, they won’t ever say shit to our face and if they do, they’ll regret it.” 

You rolled your eyes at the boys threat but inhaled deeply,” Okay, that’s good enough for me.”

Lil Bonus: One day, Kuroo went to the bathroom during class and he heard the same two guys spreading some rumors about you and he was LIVID AS HELL

Deadass this boy didn’t even wait for an explanation, he just swung his fists into their faces so hard and one guy even lost a few teeth like 0.0

“ I fucking told you I would knock your teeth in didn’t I?” 

Ya he got detention for two weeks but he had no regrets 

Angry Kuroo is so hot my LORD

[comfortwriting]

Ashtray Part 4 - D.M

Masterlist, Requesting Rules, Writing Prompts

This is Part 4 of my Draco Malfoy Mini Series, please read parts 1, 2, and 3. 

Warnings: swearing, smoking, mention of food and eating. 

“Is love a tender thing? It is too rough, too rude, too boisterous, and it pricks like thorn.” Snape’s voice echoed in the back of your mind whilst you flicked through your Romeo and Juliet GCSE muggle study materials, forgetting about charms, divination, and hexes, and learning about Shakespeare, Charles Dickens, and John Steinbeck’s Of Mice and Men instead.

The spring breeze brushed against your tender neck and cheek, causing your hair to blow out of place, the pages in your books flicking over, your bookmark sliding out of the crook and onto the grass.

Sighing, with a cigarette clamped between your lips in the corner of your mouth, you quickly grabbed on to your book, trying to find the page you were on, battling against the strong and unsteady breeze which started to resemble a billion hands, trying to push you away all at once.

Reaching the page you were on, you picked up your bookmark and shoved it back into the crook, sucking on your cigarette and inhaling, you stuffed the books into your bag and rested your head against the giant birch tree you pressed your back up against, looking up at the long, thick branches that welcomed new leaves and blossoming flowers.

“Are you bloody mental?” A familiar voice called out, footsteps stomping towards you.

Choking on your breath, you spluttered, the cigarette shooting out of your mouth and onto the grass, the wind blowing it away before you could pick it up or put it out.

The group of footsteps got closer and then stopped, you stared at the familiar mucky and well-worn shoes that stood out next to the shiny pointed flats in perfect condition, looking up, you were faced with Ron and Hermione.

Feeling your heart drop in your stomach and bracing yourself for another lecture, you continued to stare at them, darting from one pair of eyes to another.

“What do you want?” you sighed, too tired to argue, too drained to explain yourself all over again.

Ron squinted at you “leaving Hogwarts just as you’re about to start your O.W.Ls, Y/N, have you gone mad?”

Your heart started to pound, your stomach suffering fatal blows with each heavy beat.

“It’s nothing to do with you” you replied “I told you that last week!”

Hermione held Ron back from losing his temper, flashing him a look and pulling him behind her. She looked down at your book filled bag and pouted for a moment, pondering her thoughts.

“But why?”

But why? are you kidding me!

Rolling your eyes, you scoffed and laughed lightly, grabbing your bag and slinging it over your shoulder as you got to your feet.

“You’re a smart girl, Hermione.” you glared “don’t ask stupid questions.”

Turning away from her and walking away in the other direction, Ron pushed past his girlfriend and grabbed hold of your wrist, pulling you back, his other hand gripping the wand in his pocket tightly.

“Ron!” Hermione hissed.

“No!” You raised your voice “It’s alright, I’ll give you what you bloody want.” You snatched your wrist away from Ron and pushed him away from you, almost causing him to fall onto the grass.

Hermione tried to speak, so did Ron but the fire burning in your stomach became uncontrollable and the embers that flew off spread around your body like wildfire.

Draco, Pansy, Blaise, and his other cronies strolled down the path towards the lake, your raised voice catching their attention and pulling them into the spider web you were accidentally forming around you.

“I fell in love with Draco and he happened to already like me back!” you yelled “I got to know him better than anyone, better than Pansy, better than Blaise, better than Snape!”

Hermione still tried to speak, but only managed to stutter.

“That lad has been treated like shit by his father, he has been forced to do terrible things he didn’t want to do, he was never given a choice and still can’t decide what he wants to do with his own life for himself!”

The fire in your stomach shot up and travelled past your ribs, Draco’s mouth hung wide open, his heart pumping like it never had before in his life, Pansy stared at him out of the corner of her eye.

“He isn’t a death eater by choice! I am not a death eater for helping him gain the courage he so desperately needs to break away from the poison in his life!” you walked towards Hermione and Ron, your index finger pointing at them. “I didn’t decide to fall in love with him, it just happened, I could smell his green apples in my bloody love potion, he could smell my fucking cigarettes!”

You inched closer and closer, now trembling with fury.

“Is this true, Draco?” Pansy snapped, staring at him in horror.

“Well don’t just stare at it, what can you smell?” Snape droned on at you, gliding down the empty classroom.

You closed your eyes and swallowed hard, allowing the scent of green apples and expensive shoe polish to engulf your senses, drowning you.

The scent pulled you away from reality and forced you to relive the picnic with Draco, the perfectly sliced green apples sitting on a plate before you were pulled from that moment and thrust into his arms as the two of you danced slowly and silently in the dark and empty courtyard, his expensive shoes shining in the moonlight, the smell of his shoe polish breaking out into the cold air.

You cleared your throat “I can smell Draco, Professor.” taking a deep breath you opened your eyes and stared into Snape’s pits of darkness “I can smell the green apples he eats, and the expensive shoe polish his dad buys for him.”

The corner of Snape’s mouth curled into a rare smile - a sign of approval rather - Snape’s hand rested on your desk, his eyes focusing hard on your cauldron.

“I want you to hold up your bag” he ordered, watching as you did so “and I want you to take out your Marlboro Cigarettes.”

You felt the air get snatched out of your lungs as you were pulling out the exact cigarette brand.

“How did you-”

“When I asked Malfoy what he could smell” Snape paused for a moment, the corner of his mouth curling upwards even more “he pulled a disapproving face and said the same cigarettes in your hands; Draco could smell you.”

“I had no idea that Harry had feelings for me, he never hinted at such a thing, he never told me, and when you thought I was becoming Mrs Malfoy with a burning desire to pledge allegiance to Voldemort-” you bit down hard on your tongue, having never said his name out loud “before I had a chance to explain everything, you publicly shunned me! the whole of Hogwarts shunned me!”

Hermione and Ron’s faces dropped, other students passing by stopped and stared at you, listening in to every word that flew out of your mouth, Harry could hear everything as he ran towards you, his scar prickling, nausea polluting his system, the vision as clear as day in his mind.

“I can’t eat in the great hall - I have to sit with the bloody house-elves in the kitchens! I can’t go into my own common room, or sleep in my own fucking bed!” Your yelling turned into loud screeches, your throat incredibly raw and sore as if you had swallowed the worlds tiniest razor blades.

Harry reached closer and closer towards you all, panting, desperate to catch his breath and spill everything he had just witnesses, the hairs standing up on his back, fear consuming him and guilt suffocating him.

“Everyone hates me! I hesitated for one moment when Draco asked if I were to choose him over you, my best friends, and when I said it wouldn’t come to that, he shunned me too!”

Tears filled Hermione’s eyes, making her vision go glassy, mirroring you, she had never felt so guilty and wrong in her whole life. Harry fell to his knees, gasping for air and pulling on Ron’s sleeve, trying to speak, gasping as he babbled.

“He’s coming-”

“Harry, take deep breaths mate, I can’t understand what you’re saying”

Breaking out of your rant, you noticed everyone circled around you and watching everything unfold in the distance, Draco stood and stared at you, his heart clawing through his bones and flesh to pull you into his arms where you belonged, but his head cursing you and seeing nothing but red for exposing his vulnerabilities to his peers.

“So now you all know why I’m leaving!” you yelled, addressing everyone, getting on your tiptoes, your arms stretched out as you spun around in a circle “and the best news is that I’m leaving earlier than expected!”

“He’s going to attack-” Harry gasped whilst Ron rubbed his back, concern splashed upon his face, trying to put the pieces together.

“Y/N, we’re sorry!” Hermione cried out, her voice shaking.

“No!” you yelled “you’re not! none of you are!” turning your back to everyone you took off in the other direction, your throat burning like your stomach, your eyes stinging from the tears “and after tomorrow it won’t matter!” you yelled again “I’ll be gone when the morning comes!”

Storming off, your bag bounced and bashed against your back, the heaviness of the books pushing you along with each slam, you could feel Draco’s icy grey eyes carve holes into your spine, your heart yearning out and crying for him.

but it didn’t matter anymore, you were moving on with your life and so would he.

“He’s going to attack her-” Harry gasped, finally catching his breath.

“Who-”

“Voldemort-”

“Who is he going to attack? Hermione-”

“No!” Harry shook his head, burying his hands into the grass, pulling on it, everyone now staring at him “Voldemort is going to attack Y/N!”

Draco’s world stopped, his grey eyes focused on Harry - as Harry’s green eyes that belonged to his mother looked back at the lad he hated with every ounce of his being.

“We need to help her” Harry stressed “both of us.”

Tag list: @amourtentiaa @reeophidian @alwaysnforeverfangirl @inglourious-imagines @sycathorn-slush @blackqueens01 @astramalfoy @yesimsleepdeprived @fredshufflepuff @a-dusty-emerald @samineisntmyname @hogwartsbroom