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His Muse | kth
— pairing: Artist!Kim Taehyung x reader
— genre: fluff, romance | Non-idol!Au
— word count: 4.4k
— summary: Insomnia was keeping you up at night, so you decided to go out for a nightly walk in the streets of Paris, where you met Kim Taehyung, who is in desperate need of someone to inflame his passions again.
— warnings: Obviously mentioning insomnia but just surface-level, it’s extremely unrealistic in some aspects but let’s be romantic about it, depending on which way you look at it Taehyung could also come off as a creep tbh…lmao, essentially coworkers to lovers
— A/N: I started writing this in 2018… kept on writing bits and then dismissing it for months. Now, finally, it’s here. Been on my masterlist as “coming soon” for years, but I did it!
masterlist
»Why do you have to work like this?« you question your brain that is once again keeping you up at night. »This damn insomnia is going to be the death of me« you grumble, exhausted from your busy day and now suffering even more from the sleepless night ahead of you. Once you realized that you wouldn’t be getting any sleep, you decided to get up from bed and leave the hotel room to go on a nightly walk. Now you circle the block of your hotel for probably the third time. Maybe getting some energy out of your system will help make you sleepy.
As you continue your walk, you reminisce about all the things you went through to regain a healthy sleep schedule. You started with yoga on a regular day in the week, which quickly turned out to be too much effort in your packed schedule, since you already had to work two jobs.
You also tried therapy, which helped a lot, but eventually the costs piled up too much. Medicine was your last resort and got you to the point of actually sleeping through most nights, but of course you had to run out the week of your well earned holiday.
Working two jobs was exhausting and you rarely had the opportunity to take multiple consecutive days off. So, you were planning on enjoying these days as much as possible — the lack of sleep, once again, disrupting that plan.
This is just your first night in Paris, the city of lights, love, and art. You had a tightly scheduled day right after your arrival at the airport, wanting to spend every day in its own way.
So today you went sightseeing, visiting the most common things, like the Eiffel Tower. Tomorrow you planned on visiting one or two museums that a friend had recommended.
For the third day you didn’t really plan anything, expecting yourself to be far too lazy after two days of walking to do anything, so perhaps you’ll just lay down in bed and read a book.
Had you known that you wouldn’t be able to sleep you would have of course brought more books with you on this trip.
The fourth day is actually a little secret of yours, you didn’t tell anybody about your plans — the risk of coworkers snitching on you was just too high. All of them were lovely indeed, but they do love to spread the newest gossip.
The truth was, you were not only on this holiday to relax and visit a beautiful city, but also for a job interview. A well paying job in this beautiful city was a dream come true.
You didn’t care to plan more than the fourth day, if the interview goes well you will truly just be savoring the last three days in this city before leaving and soon returning permanently. If the interview didn't go the way you wanted it to, you decided to just get an earlier flight, not wanting to be depressed in a place like Paris. It would be a waste of money and days you could spend earning more of it anyway.
You were wary of actually pursuing this job, teaching was far from what you did until now. Your past work experiences were all corporate jobs or part time jobs at restaurants, bars, and the likes. Seemingly not being able to stop your brain from rattling, you thought: what if someone better applies and they decide against you?
You’d be starting on step one again, having to apply at a multitude of different Art Universities to get the chance of an interview.
All of a sudden you crash into somebody. A tall man is staring down at you in shock, big eyes and his mouth open. Your expression is probably mirroring his, the collision pulled you out of your thoughts.
»I’m so sorry!« you exclaim, rushing to look around for objects he might’ve dropped when you ran into the broad man.
»It’s fine, guess both of us just weren't paying attention,« the man says and gives you a big grin. His cheeks lift up, giving him a cute and less intimidating look than just a few seconds ago.
You give him a once over. He’s handsome, his posture radiated confidence and his eyes were very sharp but now that he is smiling they had a nicer touch to them. You notice the uneven eyelids and a mole on the underside of his nose tip. You guess it isn't very visible for other people, but from your angle, being much shorter than the tall man, you see it clearly. His hands are hidden in the pockets of his long coat and his hair is partly covered by a barret. With the lack of light, you can only guess that it’s of a darker color.
»Are you done checking me out?« His very dark voice, you note that you’ve probably never heard such a deep tone, managed to pull your attention to his face again. You didn’t notice that you’d been staring. The realization made you blush. It’s dark, so of course he won’t see it in the dimly lit streets, but you could feel yourself heat up.
You force out a nervous chuckle. On any other day you would walk away after you made sure to apologize and check for dropped items, but you couldn’t seem to continue your nightly walk this time around. »What are you doing out so late, anyway?« He asks, still smiling, looking into your eyes and waiting for your answer.
»Uh, I was just… on a walk?« Great, talking casually to a stranger wouldn’t be on the list of your strengths, noted. But he laughs and to your surprise you’re not embarrassed by this, more amused and delighted. His laugh is very pretty, just like the man himself.
»Ah, I see. Well, I’ll let you continue your walk then, let’s pay attention to our paths from now on!« He gives you another smile before he raises his hand out of his pocket, notably very big, to wave a little and turn around. You stay there for a moment and watch him slowly walk away.
»He was nice,« you whisper into the cold air, smiling to yourself. The unexpected encounter made your mind less stressed, somehow. The stranger had a calming way about him. With newfound peace of mind, you decide to go back to your hotel room and try to get some sleep.
Your second day in Paris was lovely indeed. The art hung on the walls of museums was impressive and lovely to look at. Drawing had been a small passion of yours for long, but working every chance you get kept you from it for far too long. The sights were truly inspiring and so you decided to make your way to an art supply store to purchase a sketchbook and a few brushes. You could ponder about what you’d draw in a nearby park, perhaps? Nature in Paris was as beautiful as it gets.
With this plan in mind you made your way there, your phone navigation leading your way with your earphones in, trying not to seem as much of a tourist, but you probably do anyway.
Near the store, you stopped the route on your phone and put the device away in your pocket. When you open the door a bell above rings and echoes sweetly into the room to make notice of your entrance. Wooden shelves stocked with many art supplies fill the space. You could take your pick from any medium you’d like to paint with. Oil, water color, pencil,... You take it all in, think about what's best to buy and especially, what suited your bank accounts limits. Wandering along the shelves in deep concentration, you bumped into a hard chest. Just like last night, you come to face the same man. He still wore his smile and his eyes carried the same kind look.
»I see we were destined to meet again,« he said, his smile growing cheeky. »I was actually hoping to see you a second time. Do you often crash into people when daydreaming?« The man chuckles and holds his hand in front of his body, »official introductions are in order, I suppose. My name is Kim Taehyung.«
You returned his smile, although a bit more nervous as he seemed to be. »Were you really hoping to see me again or are you just trying to charm me?«
Your response made him laugh a little, but before he could say another thing, you told him your name. »Seeing you here must mean you’re into art?« You ask.
He nods his head yes. Delighted to hear this, you immediately start a conversation about art. Without hesitation, you ask him about his favorite medium, his style of painting and at last, his inspiration. At the last question he seems to lose his smile. Before, he joyously responded to all of your inquiries, but this one perhaps was too personal of a question. »You don’t need to share, if you’re uncomfortable,« you assure him.
»It’s not that I’m uncomfortable. It’s just that, as of right now, I’ve lost all inspiration,« he admits. »I was going to switch paints in an attempt to regain a bit of my passion.« Relating to this, you nod. Losing inspiration to do what you love — it is tough. No wonder his smile dropped at the mention of it.
You fear that your mishap might have ruined the conversation, but he bounces right back and returns all your questions, helps you choose the best products in your price range and wears his smile just like before. As a way of thanking him you invite him for coffee, but because of his plans he has to refuse. »Another time. I’m sure we’ll meet again.«
Before you could dare to tell him that you are in fact not a local like he is, he is already on his way and without exchanging phone numbers, impossible to reach. The prospect of not seeing him again before you leave Paris crosses your mind and sullies your mood. You suppose you’d just have to deal with it.
You go on to spend the rest of today and the third day of your stay painting the view from your hotel room window, a park and a bridge to distract yourself and get your mood back up. On wednesday evening you expected to have trouble sleeping before your interview the next day. But, to your surprise, your eyes feel heavy and sleep comes over you.
When you wake up, you get dressed and grab two of the paintings from yesterday, your previously prepared binder full of your older art and make your way to the interview. It was held directly where you’d work at — an art school. The thought of pursuing your life-long passion as a career is scary but imagining that this interview could be a success fills your heart with joy. Becoming an art teacher for students who live and breathe art just as you do seems like your purpose. For this reason, you want to try your best and hope to leave a great impression.
As you stand in front of the university's art-department building you keep positive thoughts in mind. Every step that you take in the direction of the stairs, along the hallway and near the room you're supposed to enter, shakes you up with anxiety. Nerves are running rampant more than ever as you hold the door handle and push it down. A deep breathe in, and you step forward into the room.
The broad room is bright, the white and high walls complement the wooden floors. Beautiful art decorates the walls and windows. You suppose on other days this is where students work on their assignments. But today, there are no art supplies laying around, everything is cleaned up nice. When you look to your left, there’s a long table. Three people sit at the table, two of them are conversing quietly, the third is scribbling something onto a paper in front of him.
The woman on the far left looks to the door first and her face splits into a smile. »Hello! Do come in, please.« You nod and smile, close the door behind you and step closer to the table. The woman who called you in pointed towards folded chairs that are leaned on the wall. »Grab a chair! Apologies, we just came back from our break, so we didn’t get to prepare the room.« You assure her that it’s fine, grab a chair and introduce yourself before sitting down.
»Very nice to meet you. I’m Madame Dupont, next to me is Monsieur Batiste and at last, Monsieur Kim. Monsieur Batiste and I are both teachers here. While Monsieur Kim does give lectures, his profession is fully dedicated to the arts. You might recognize him by his Pseudonym, Vantae.« She introduces from the left, starting with herself and going to the right, leaving the man who hadn’t raised his eyes up until now for last. The mention of Vantae makes you almost jump, you were always very fond of his work. The opportunity to meet one of your favorite artists in person makes this interview so much better. You keep your eyes on him, waiting to see his face and as you meet his gaze, you are surprised to recognize the man.
Vantae or Monsieur Kim, as in Kim Taehyung, the man who you’ve spent a great deal of this Tuesday with, talking about art. How come it never crossed his mind to mention that he was in fact an actual artist, with great talent? The shock hits your gut deeply but you can’t let it show on your face or hinder you from making a good impression on the other interviewers.
You clear your throat and take a deep breath in. Madame Dupont, seemingly leading the interview, holds her hand out and asks for your documents and the binder with your art. While she and the others look through your portfolio and comment on aspects that they like, you begin talking about yourself, per their request. You tell them of your great love for painting and how you’ve always felt at ease with a pencil or brush in hand. One or two questions to your drawings are asked that you gladly elaborate on and after exactly forty-two minutes Madame Dupont, Monsieur Batiste and Taehyung stand up to each shake your hand.
»It was great speaking with you today. We will definitely contact you in a few days and notify you of our decision. Your art is very promising and you would be a great addition to our team!« Monsieur Batiste beams when he speaks and holds your hand in both of his. The two others at both his sides nod in agreement.
Taehyung’s smile grows cheeky when you hold your hand above the table to reach for his. »Pleasure to meet you here today, Madame. I, as well, would more than appreciate your presence at this school,« he brazenly speaks. His words are laced with mischief, as are his eyes sparkling with.
You express your gratitude to receive the chance for this interview and emphasize that you’d love to take this job offer. A very positive feeling is settling within your chest as you leave the building and walk along the street. They were genuinely nice and made the interview a good experience. But the encounter with Kim Taehyung still sticks with you. He seemed to already expect you there, almost like he recognized you from the picture on your application to the school. It would explain why he was so sure to meet you again.
The call from Madame Dupont came exactly four days after you were back at home. The moment that your phone rings with a caller-ID you don’t recognize you pick up, already anticipating who it might be. »We’re so happy to tell you that you have been accepted as our next art teacher at the Pariser University of Arts!« She says, with almost as much excitement as you feel hearing it. »We want you to start as soon as you can move to Paris. Our team has been developing a schedule for you to adjust to teaching the students and we can’t wait for you to join us.«
After the call, you waste no time to write your resignation for your jobs and to prepare everything that needs to be done and taken care of before you leave the country — permanently.
After living in Paris for four months now, you can’t imagine leaving ever again. Work has been everything you hoped it would be and more. At the beginning you just followed Madame Dupont, Taehyung and Monsieur Batiste to their classes, attended to printing and copying documents and got to do the occasional stand-in class. Today, you’re still in training but get to work on your own most of the time. Your coworkers help you prepare for your classes and give you tips on how to improve student-involvement. You enjoy working, for probably the first time in your life. With time you’re starting to get along better with your coworkers — not only the trio that interviewed you, but also the whole rest of the teaching staff. But with Taehyung especially.
The first week you arrived, he kept on teasing you about how shocked you were when you found out that he is Vantae. He also admitted to recognizing you from your application, when the two of you met in the art shop. »I didn’t notice when we bumped into each other at night, but the day after it clicked. I’m a very curious person, you intrigued me… I just had to get to know you,« he confessed back then.
That day, he also showed you his in-school art studio. It is still a gorgeous sight, you’re in awe whenever you get to enter it. He only works there when he has lectures that day, so it’s not the full extent of what he’s tinkering with. Still, you can recognize Vantae in everything he creates. Even quick, messy sketches. But like he said in the art shop, inspiration has left him with blank canvases or unfinished projects and the frustration is always clearly visible in his face when he invites you to the studio.
Last time you were there, he invited you to come see his studio at home. The thought of seeing the place where Vantae painted some of his greatest works intrigued you so much, you agreed despite being antsy about spending your time off with him.
This leads you to where you are now, standing in front of his door. You take a few seconds to actually ring the bell but once you do, it doesn’t take long for it to swing open and reveal Taehyung and his usual smile. He swings his arm into the room to ask you to enter and that you do. To the right of the entrance area is a flight of stairs, but Taehyung walks through the door frame in front of you, so you follow him.
»I was just about to make coffee before heading up to the studio.« He said. »Do you want a cup as well?« You accept the offer and look around his place. The living room in which you are standing was huge and flooded with light from the big windows. A bar separated the area from his kitchen, where he leans against the counter. Behind him, his coffee machine is buzzing away as it’s filling the cups he put underneath. Once they are full, he hands you one of them. Both of you add milk and sugar to your preferences and then Taehyung starts making his way back through the doorway and turns to the staircase. »Let’s go!« he cheers on his way up.
He talks a lot about the different Paintings on his walls, the ones he hasn’t finished yet and the ones he wants to start. He begins sketching at his desk and you sit next to him to watch. Over the last few weeks he asked you more and more often to just do that — he never explains why. By now it’s become routine though, so you don’t question it anymore.
Every once in a while Taehyung pauses and crosses out what he drew or he erases the pencil lines and starts fresh. You can tell that the longer he keeps at it, the more his patience runs out. With time, he stops trying to fix or cover up his mistakes, but instead ends up crumbling his paper sheet together and throwing the whole thing away.
He finally closes his artbook and looks over at you with tired eyes, pouting. You can’t resist the coo that leaves your mouth.
»I can‘t seem to draw anything at all, lately. It frustrates me,« the earnest way he speaks about his thoughts and feelings makes you a little happy, you’re glad that he’s comfortable enough to confide in you like this.
»Maybe you need a new muse?« you suggest and absentmindedly bite your lip as you try to think of a solution to his problem. There needs to be something that could inspire him. You don’t notice him inching closer to you, not until his breath tickles your cheek. Taehyung isn’t pouting anymore. Rather than that, his face is full of mischief, like it was months ago after your interview.
»Can you sit still?« he hurriedly opens the artbook again, grabs a piece of drawing coal and gets to work. Your eyes widen with the realization of what he was doing when his eyes flicker up to your face and back down to the paper. Not wanting to interrupt the flow he seems to be in, you just sit still and wait for when he is done. When he is, he turns his artbook to you and shows off his work with a proud grin on his lips. It was beautiful, to say the least.
»Would you mind spending a little more time in my studio? I would love to try this with oil colors,« he carefully asks. It’s late and a part of your brain tells you to not stay with a man that you’re slowly overstepping your work relationship with, but you know that you probably can’t sleep well tonight anyway, so you agree to stay with him, despite your better knowledge.
»I wouldn’t mind,« you say to his visible surprise. »I enjoy your company and your art. If I can help you regain your inspiration, I’m more than glad to do that.«
To Taehyung, you carry the calmness of the ocean and he could really drown in your presence. Just looking at you puffing up your hair nearly makes him drool. Being alone with you for so long is going to make him crazy, he just knows.But you could really be the solution for the artist block that he has been struggling with for the past few months. What you said earlier made him realize that you already were his muse. Everytime you’re next to him when he draws, he feels himself regaining his inspiration little by little. Maybe all that was left for him to truly get out of his slump wasn’t to switch the medium but to find the right view to draw.
After you find your position again, he starts a draft of the painting he had in mind. You are of course the main focus of it, but the hard part is to find out what background will do your beauty justice.
Late into the night, Taehyung finally finishes the painting. All the coffee in the world couldn’t keep the two of you up any longer. You grab your things and follow him back downstairs, but before you could announce your departure, he takes your hand. »You shouldn’t walk home alone this late. Please, stay here.« He almost whispers this and pulls you towards his chest gently. You think about it for a moment, staying at his place would really cross the line of professionalism. Finally, the thought of sharing a comfortable bed with a warm blooded, handsome man like Taehyung won you over. You sigh and nod your head.
»Let’s go to bed, then.« You both smile at each other.
He gives you a toothbrush and together you stand in front of the sink and exchange the occasional glance. His hands touch your arms, your waist and hips. Always gentle and they never linger for too long — it’s comfortable. The question of who takes the couch is never asked and on an unspoken mutual agreement you both slip under the same blanket, his arm behind your head and your back against his chest.
The darkness in the bedroom envelops you. You only feel Taehyung’s chest rise and fall while you fall asleep quicker than you ever did before.
To be woken up in the morning by Taehyung’s now even deeper voice wasn’t on your list of possible outcomes when you moved to Paris. Nonetheless you really enjoy it. The shirt he gave you last night to sleep in covers you enough to stay decent and in his opinion makes you look even cuter than you did before. Bedhead and all.
He serves two cups of coffee and egg on toast after you beg him to cook you some breakfast.
»Seeing you like this…,« he mutters. »I’m afraid I can’t let you leave, you’re way too pretty. Can’t have anyone steal my muse from me.« You laugh together with him and hide your face in your palms. His attention stays on you the whole time. He can’t help himself — he rounds the bar to where you’re seated and lays his hand on the side of your face. »I adore you,« this, he said in a very serious tone, unlike before. »Please let me take you out to dinner sometime.« You look up from your hands and see the earnesty in his eyes.
»I’d love to,« you respond and he smiles.
#ficswithluv#kimlinenet#vantaenet#95line.net#networkbangtan#magicshopnet#btswritingcafe#btsbookclub#bangtanscenery#bts x reader#Taehyung x reader#Artist au#bts fluff#bts romance#Taehyung fluff#Taehyung romance#bts fanfic#Taehyung fic#Jeon Jungkook#Kim Taehyung#Park Jimin#Jung Hoseok#Min Yoongi#Kim Namjoon#Kim Seokjin#bangtan sonyeondan
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Brain Break #64
Pairing: Jimin x Reader
Rating: NSFW
Genre: Smut
Word Count: 524
Warnings: Fingering, Cunnilingus, Truth or Dare
Author’s Note: Jimin's mouth should be a warning.
My Masterlist
“Truth or dare?” Jimin asked, his plush lips tickling your ear.
“Truth,” You moaned as he worked his fingers past the top of your pants.
“How wet are you right now?” He asked.
“Dare you to find out.” You shot back, turning your head to kiss him as he stripped your leggings.
Whining at the loss of contact with his mouth as he sat up, you sucked in a deep breath and spread your legs, exposing your soaked core to him. Leisurely, Jimin ran his fingertips down the inside of your thighs as he leaned back in. Closing your eyes to feel him, you anticipated his touch where you wanted him the most. When he moved his hands to the backside of your thighs, your eyes shot open as you sat up on your elbows, ready to yell at him for tormenting you.
As you watched, Jimin pushed your legs open wider and up, positioning his body so that your knees hooked over his shoulder as he laid down. Using only two fingers, he spread your cunt open for his eyes. “Fuck, love. So wet.” Jimin’s breath puffed against your core, heightening your arousal even more.”Look at you, clenching around nothing.”
Moaning, you couldn’t take the sight of his mouth centimeters away from your clit and not touching you. Surely he wouldn’t draw this out that long, right? The yip you made as he wrapped his lips around your clit morphed into a breathy moan as he sucked you into his mouth. With their own will, your fingers tangled themselves into his hair as he sucked, tongued, and gently nibbled at your sensitive nub. You both knew that just this alone wouldn’t be enough to get you to come, so you sharply pulled at his hair as soon as you felt him press a finger against your opening. It wasn’t enough to stop him, not that you wanted to anyway.
Just as suddenly as he’d started, Jimin was pulling back, knowing your body well enough to know that you had been moments away from coming. “Truth or dare?” He asked again, a smug smile spread across his lips.
“Right fucking now?” You questioned, violence in your voice.
Jimin just chuckled and nodded his head before leaning to rest his cheek on the inside of your thigh.
Scoffing and throwing an arm over your eye, you wanted to yell but knew that if you didn’t continue this game, you wouldn’t cum at all tonight. “Shit, fine. Dare?”
The way he snickered meant you’d made a mistake. Lazily, Jimin began kissing his way up your body, breaking away from you long enough to rip his shirt over his head and shrug off his sweat pants. Once naked, he pressed his body down on yours, the tip of his cock pressed against your entrance. Kissing along your jawline, he moved his lips back to your ear gain before he finally gave you your dare. “I dare you to cum as many times as you can in the next 30 minutes and keep track of them.” And with one fluid motion, he sheathed himself deep inside you.
#BangtanArmyNet#ipurpleunet#95line.net#Jimin x Reader#Jimin Smut#Jimin x You#Park Jimin x Reader#Park Jimin Smut#Park Jimin x You#Reka's Brain Breaks
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Announcement
Hello, everyone!
After thinking about everything, we decided to open the network, which means we’ll be reblogging all contents tagged #95line.net despite being a member.
Content rules still apply, you can see them on the rules.
Our members will have priority on reblogging, but we won’t be accepting any more members.
We hope we can still be a network for appreciation and motivation to BTS 95 line content creators.
Love, Admin Deby <33
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maknae line ♡ playing games and laughing together in hotel rooms ∷ 160113 bangtan bomb ⇢ 211128 vlive
#bts#maknae line#jimin#jungkook#taehyung#btsgif#maknaelinegifs#busanboys#95line.net#jungkookedit#pjmdaily#dailybangtan#dailybts#networkbangtan#bangtanarmynet#ipurpleunet#laura.bts#laura.gifs#bts:jk#bts:jimin#kth*#tumblr compressing these gifs that took me all day to make is my villain origin story#anyways i love these boys so freaking much <333333
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jiminie vs. his busan satoori 😂
#jimin#bts#run bts#armysource#pjmdaily#95line.net#dailybts#mygifs#*#jshdjkskhd pls#i adore him#ok so i mixed the subs from vlive and weverse :D#it became less confusing for me? lmao#google search: how to think of a good caption <3 asking for a friend
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fever
🍷 summary: he knew he had to have her the moment their eyes met. jimin was known for his insatiable appetite. women flocked to him in droves until you arrived hardly impressed and not giving him the time of day. will he succeed? or will a sense of duty overcloud your judgment?
🍷 genre(s)/au: angst, drama, smut, e2l, s2l, romance, slow burn, supernatural au
🍷 sin: lust
🍷 pairing: vampire!park jimin x slayer!(f)oc
🍷 rating: 18+
🍷 warning(s): swearing, mentions of blood, biting, violence, fighting, dirty talk, nipple play, hickeys, unprotected sex, choking, praise, hair pulling, multiple sex positions, oral (f receiving), hand job, shower sex
🍷 word count: 9.8k
🍷 a/n: for @yutasthetic @sugakookitty & @thebiasrekkers :
seven deadly sins collab
banner resources found here: 1, 2, 3, 4
A huge shot out to @spicykoreantatertots Hannah can't thank you enough for beta reading this and helping showcase something i'm proud of 💜💜💜
The walls of the stall in the bathroom shook violently as her back struck against it. His hips slapped against hers, digging his fingers into her skin to the point where marks formed. She wrapped her legs tighter around his waist, holding on for dear life.
Being quiet wasn’t an option. Breathy moans filled the air as his cock thrust into her cunt.
“Feels good, hmm?”
“Oh...oh...yes...fuck me,” she pleaded.
“Say my name,” he crooned, nibbling on her earlobe.
“J-Jimin, please don’t tease me.”
He smirked against her skin, nipping at the flesh as his tongue snaked out. His following words were punctuated with deep thrusts.
“You’re my toy, and I can do whatever I want with you,” he whispered, sniffing her hair. “Fuck, you smell so good. Can’t wait to taste you.”
The woman threw her head back as a particular thrust made her quiver. “Please! Please do it. I want you, Jimin!”
His lip curled, revealing a pair of fangs sliding into view. “As you wish.”
The terror crossed her face as she tried to pry herself from him, but his iron grip stayed.
“H-Hey, what are you–”
Before she could finish her sentence, Jimin sank his fangs into her pretty young throat, crushing her trachea. Her eyes were bright, with a jolting sensation burning through her. He devoured her life force, gulping it down in a series of feral, greedy swallows, indulging without mercy or hesitation.
She was gone in seconds, never having a chance, lids lowering, body crumbling, the vitality sucked out of her. Breaking his lethal kiss, Jimin pulled his head back and gasped with pleasure, wallowing in the rapture of the moment. Licking his lips, he dropped her body to the floor, wiped his mouth, and slipped out of the bathroom. Jimin took out his phone and dialed a number. Once the other line picked up he only said two words.
“Red Death.”
He pressed the red button and put the phone away. The music from the club thumped loud as he sauntered over to sit down at the bar. The bartender placed a drink before him just as a woman walked over, sitting next to him.
Jimin eyed her with wanton abandon as his eyes twinkled.
“Hello there.”
...
Mardi Gras.
She looked outside the window with a slight frown. Now that night had fallen, the city became alive. Music filled the streets as people, young and old, drunkenly walked along the sidewalks and streets. She clicked her tongue in annoyance. New Orleans was beginning to lose the charm to her. Sure, a few years ago, Geneva had been under its spell and seduced by what it had to offer—ultimately leading her down a path to where she almost destroyed herself. Still, a slight smirk appeared on her face. No matter how much she hated it, New Orleans was her home.
The town car slowed to a stop in front of a small tavern on the outskirts of the French Quarter, causing her to drift back to the present.
Of course, he'd pick this place.
The door opened, and she exited the car, adjusting her jacket before she walked inside. Now she could see why he chose this place. It was crowded but not overly packed. The people came from all walks of life, and they kept to themselves. Good.
The bellow of smoke crawled out from the top of a booth in the corner. She made her way over and slipped into the booth. Her fingers toyed with the zipper, removing her leather jacket entirely, revealing her outfit: dark jeans, black boots, and tank; easy to move in and comfortable. She smiled, shaking the dark wavy tresses from off her face.
"Are these theatrics necessary, Yoongi?"
The older man sat up, pushing his features slowly into the light. He removed his cigarette, letting her see a smile appear.
"Wouldn’t be me if I didn’t."
She drummed her nails on the table impatiently. "Well, you have my attention. I've answered your call. What do you want?" He pulled out a thick folder and pushed it towards her. She sighed, rubbing her eyes, but opened it. Her eyes widened as she read the contents. Inside were details of her next assignment.
“Bodies found around bars on Bourbon Street. You want me to investigate?”
Yoongi nodded. “It’s been a problem over the past few months. If you do find something, take care of it. Whoever is behind it, is getting media coverage. We don’t need the exposure.”
Geneva set the stack of papers down and glared at him. "So, I'm off probation?" Yoongi chuckled as he tapped the ash into the ashtray. His dark brown eyes sparkled with a hint of mischief. "I spoke on your behalf to the board. They want… er...a trial period for now."
"Bullshit. I'm the best you've got-"
"Until you went rogue," he interrupted.
They held their gaze on each other until she rolled her eyes and let out a hiss. "We're not talking about it again. I'll do this assignment, but it better get me off this probation shit. Understand?"
Yoongi gave a curt nod. "I'll see what I can do."
Geneva didn't feel the least bit relieved. Still, it was a small start. She grabbed the papers and slid out the booth without so much as a goodbye to her mentor. She had work to do.
Bourbon street was already crowded with drunk people all around. During the daytime, it was tame, but as soon as the sun went down, all bets were off. She went by enough women flashing for beads to last her a lifetime.
Do they still do that?
Shaking her head, she continued avoiding any puddles on the street. You never knew what could be on the ground. She'd already seen a police horse relieve itself near a lamppost. The pungent smell of vomit and urine wafted around the block, causing her to cover her nose.
"What I wouldn't give for a breeze," she muttered.
Every few feet, a pretty lady would try to get her to buy $3 shots, and she’d politely decline. Her ears picked up on loud music from every club on the main street. Jazz horns from the street corner musicians kept onlookers observing as they threw money into a hat.
To be so carefree. How I envy them.
Frowning, she shook the negative thoughts away. Like this was the time or place to start feeling sad for herself. For goodness sake, she was on the job! Though she wasn't particularly fond of overcrowded areas, it made it easier to stay hidden. This part of town wasn't exactly safe. The drinks and entertainment were better, but you had to keep your wits about yourself, something the tourists lacked...which made better targets for nocturnal predators. As Geneva walked further down Bourbon street, the crowds had become rowdier as the alcohol flowed more. Inhibitions were looser. A club off the main path caught her eye.
The Red Death. An exciting name for a place. But it seemed to attract both locals and tourists alike. Curiosity got the best of her, and she walked towards the area. The bouncer let her in without a fuss. She surveyed the inside of the club carefully. Matching the name of the place, the interior was covered in shades of red with black accents. Strobe lights flickered as the latest EDM beats exploded from the speakers, and bodies moved, sweaty and grinding on the dance floor. She headed straight to the bar and ordered a drink. The bartender handed her a glass instantaneously with a smile that she returned. Geneva turned in her seat to face the dance floor. Swirling her glass, she brought it up to her lips, letting the amber liquid slide down her throat as the warmth rushed over her body. She closed her eyes and moved her head to the beat of the music.
Jimin sat in the corner of the club as one woman rolled her hips against his. Hands placed on her hips, he guided her against him, making her moan. She threw her head back as his fingers traveled from her hips up to her waist. His lips found her pulse point, dragging them along her neck as her breath hitched. He could hear the blood pounding, and it made his hunger grow. His fangs tensed up before they slid into view. Just as he was about to sink into her throat, his eyes darted across the room, landing on Geneva.
If he had a beating heart, it would have stopped right then and there. She was a vision. Jimin’s tongue slid out to wet his lips as his gaze darkened. Almost forgetting about the woman dancing in front of him, he stood, making her fall to the floor. Her words deaf on his ears, he strolled over to the bar, choosing the vacant seat right next to her. He ordered his usual glass of Sangiovese and sniffed the contents with a coy smirk.
He signaled to the bartender, pointing to her drink. “Put her drink on my tab.”
Geneva opened her eyes to see a man looking at her hungrily. She couldn’t read his aura, which puzzled her. His ash gray hair hung over his eyes, and she couldn’t tell what color they were. He was wearing a leather jacket, white shirt, dark jeans, black boots and holding a small glass in his hand.
“Do I know you?” she asked, annoyed with his interruption.
“Not yet,” he whispered.
As if her eyes couldn’t roll any further up. She threw some money on the bar and got up quickly. Her instincts kicked in, and they were told to do one thing: leave. He grabbed her by her hand and pulled her close.
“Hey, listen, I’m not used to this, but would you–”
A shiver ran through her body at his voice. She shook the feeling away and pulled her hand forcibly from his grip.
“Stay away from me, or you won’t have a hand to shake your pencil dick with,” she threatened.
Jimin stepped back as Geneva turned on her heel and walked away. He scratched his head, watching her retreating form. That was certainly a first. Never had anyone made him feel that self-conscious before. He was used to women throwing themselves at him. Even a smile from him sent them into a tizzy. He didn’t like it one bit.
“All the more to get to know you,” he murmured.
The air was suffocating; Geneva ran out of the club, clutching her chest. She leaned on the side of a pole, her breathing erratic. What was this feeling? It was unlike anything she’d ever been through. She needed to focus; being in this state wouldn’t do her any good. Considering this a loss for the night, she decided to go back home. As she walked on, the man from the club kept invading her thoughts.
Why?
---
His tongue licked a trail from her belly button to her collar bone. The whimpers were music to his ears. He smiled against her skin, wanting to hear more melodic sounds from her lips. He reached her breasts, plucking a dark-hued nipple into his mouth to swirl it with his tongue, suckling greedily his free hand groped and squeezed the other. She squirmed underneath him entirely under his spell.
“J-Jimin...please,” she pleaded.
His eyes closed in ecstasy. He grunted, feeling his pants tighten in discomfort. He removed his lips from her nipple with a pop and worked on the other, not wanting to neglect it. Suckling with fervor, dark marks bloomed upon her skin. He raised his head, looking at his handiwork.
“Beautiful,” he cooed.
She was like putty in his hands.
“Are you ready?” he asked as he unbuttoned his shirt.
With a heated gaze, she nodded furiously. He bit his lip, watching as her legs unceremoniously spread for him. Already high off the scent she gave him, he was erect and eager, nearly tearing his pants off. His fangs slid into view, studying her form.
“Oh, angel. You’re mine.”
His eyes popped open in the darkness. Fury filled his lungs as he glanced around at his surroundings. Alone. As usual.
“Fuck,” he spat, throwing off his covers and stalking over to the bathroom.
Jimin gazed at his reflection with scrutiny. He twisted the faucet on and splashed ice-cold water on his face. When did he ever dream? Not in centuries. He scowled as he reached for the towel on the hook.
“Who is she?” he mumbled as he wiped his face. He stormed back into his room, the blackout curtains keeping his place pitch black. By now, it would be dawn. The sunrise was approaching. He sighed, taking a swig from the glass on his nightstand. He needed to find out more about her.
“I’ll find you, angel,” he whispered into the darkness.
---
A restless night slowly turned into a nervous morning. Her eyes stared at the ceiling, watching the fan turn slowly, stirring the stagnant of the room. Geneva opted for a small hotel room right in the middle of the city. She set up shop quickly, making the room to her liking and requesting the staff not to intrude on the space at all. The Le Pavillon Hotel was right off of Bourbon Street and overlooked the French Quarter perfectly. Better location equaled solid hunting ground.
Still, her stomach twisted in knots. She couldn’t shake that feeling she had from the previous night. After that man spoke to her, she had a panic attack. It could not happen again. If Yoongi found out, she’d be removed from the field.
Not a chance in hell.
The muscles in her neck tensed. She grabbed her duffel bag and opened the contents letting the weapons fall on her bed in a clatter. Guns, knives, brass knuckles, throwing darts, anything you could imagine fell out. She littered through sorting out the pile taking inventory, deciding a few blades and a small handgun would be sufficient for her nighttime stroll. As night slowly fell, she took her time, working and studying the city’s lay from her maps.
For now, she would continue her recon and travel along Bourbon Street for the night. Crypts and the swamps would be for another day.
Her best bet was to return to the Red Death. Something about that place made her want to make an appearance. Opting to dress a bit more touristy, she checked herself out in the mirror. She tugged at the high-waisted shorts. Paired with a dark purple crop top and black boots, she’d blend in with patrons. With that, she walked out and began to explore the hidden nightlife of New Orleans once more.
---
Jimin sipped his drink at the bar, choosing a spot to give him a broader view of the club. A few women stopped by his seat, rubbing against him, whispering lustful, drenched promises. Any other time, he’d take one in the restroom or behind the club, but tonight...tonight was different.
He waved them away with a gesture or look, his mind occupied elsewhere. And then she entered. He let out an audible gulp watching her walk. The way her hips swung with each step. His jaw nearly dropped. She walked over to the bartender giving a wave, and ordered her drink. Jimin stared at his glass, debating if he should speak to her.
No. Wait.
He watched with fascination as she threw back two shots and went immediately to the dance floor. He licked his lips as his hunger grew. Why was she having this effect on him? As he got the courage to dance with her, a man walked behind her, offering a dance. Jimin’s eyes narrowed.
There’s no way she’ll accept.
Geneva let him grab her hips as they swayed to the beat. The male smirked as they danced, his eyes glowing in the darkness.
Jimin’s blood began to boil as his fangs tensed. This was his place. She was his. The man whispered in her ear, making her giggle.
“What’s your name?” he asked, pressing close to her so she’d hear him.
Geneva smirked to herself as they danced. She turned to face him, wrapping her hands around her neck. “I’m GiGi.”
“Lovely name. I’m Warren.” He gave her a toothy grin.
Geneva gave him a nod of acknowledgment, and they continued to dance. Eventually, she pulled away, stating how she needed air. Warren seemed annoyed but let her leave. She made her way towards the restrooms, but something made her stop in her tracks. The hairs on the back of her neck raised slightly. She was being watched. Her head turned to the left...then the right... A frown passed her lips. She didn’t like this at all.
Too many people around to notice if one was just looking at her. That didn't sit too well with her. Her senses went into overdrive. She sighed, she shook her head in disbelief and continued her walk.
"I’m paranoid–"
She barely got the words out as an arm shot out, dragging her into a hallway. It led out to the alley behind the bar. Her head smashed against the side of the brick walk, making her see stars. Three people, two men, and one woman, all looked down at her hungrily. She recognized one man as Warren.
He smirked, pushing his blonde hair off his face as he stepped forward with a smile as his fangs came into view. "Hello, lovely."
Geneva came to quickly, letting out a groan, her head throbbing from the impact. Could she beat them? Maybe. A challenge for sure. Nonetheless, three against one was difficult even for a seasoned hunter.
Warren moved into her personal space, wrapping a finger around a strand of her dark hair with a hiss.
"I didn't think I'd find anything this exquisite tonight, and here you are."
The second male, a short man with locs, grinned, eyeing Geneva up and down. "Are ya gonna talk all night or we gonna eat? I'm fuckin' starving!" The woman hissed at him, flicking her dark brown hair over her shoulder. "Shut up, Kai. If anyone is going to get the first bite, it's me. Ladies first."
Warren snorted. "You’re a lady Cali?” The female flipped him off with a growl. Geneva rolled her eyes at the scene unfolding. "Can we get on with it already?"
Warren hissed, taking her by the neck as his eyes glowed. "You got a mouth on you, love. I prefer my food to be silent." He chuckled as his fangs appeared. "No matter, in a minute, you won't feel a thing."
Geneva reeled her head back and rammed it against his face. Warren staggered back, holding his broken nose. He groaned as the blood gushed down his chin. The other two vampires, quite stunned, quickly got into attack mode. Geneva grabbed the hidden blade in her boot.
She flipped it open; eyes narrowed and ready to strike. Kai yelled, running towards her. He growled and swung a right hook at her. Geneva ducked around, jumping to the side before grabbing his arm and twisting it entirely around. The bone cracked instantly. He screamed and backed away. She kicked him in his side and sent him flying into the side of a dumpster. As she ran over to him with her blade to finish him off, the female vampire did a roundhouse kick, catching her legs from under her and slammed down on the concrete. Her blade flew out of her hands. Geneva gasped as the air escaped her lungs.
Kai got up with some effort holding his side. Growling, he walked over to her and grabbed her by the neck. With a grin, he threw her against the wall. As he and Cali began punching her sides, Geneva blocked the attacks with some difficulty. They pulled back as she slid down the wall, wincing. Warren regained his strength and ran over, kicking her in the stomach. Geneva clenched her teeth at his attack. He took a piece of glass from the ground and twirled it between his fingers. Grinning, he looked at the other two.
“Grab her.”
Kai and Cali each took an arm and hoisted her up. Geneva struggled against their hold, trying to fight her way off of them. Her eyes widened as she saw the glass shard in his hand.
Warren chuckled, sliding the glass down her cheek.
“I think I owe you for my nose. You’re gonna scream for me.”
Geneva bit back the scream as Warren stabbed her in the side. Breathing hard through her nose, her eyes narrowed at him.
“Hmm? No scream?”
“Do it again, Warren! I wanna see her heart!”
He jerked the glass from her and went for another stab when a shot rang out. He let out a groan as the blood spot on his chest grew, and he fell to the ground. Kai’s face changed to fear. “What the–”
Where did that gunshot come from? She had no time to figure it out. Geneva took her blade out from her boot and slit his throat in one smooth motion. Kai tried to cough as he grabbed his throat, dropping to the ground. She turned to the woman with a smirk wiping the blood off the edge. The female vampire hissed darkly. "Who the fuck are you?"
Geneva smirked, rolling her shoulders. "I’m the wrong person to fuck with."
Cali extended her nails as she readied to defend herself. “I’m gonna rip your throat out.”
“Not before I extend the gesture,” Geneva taunted.
Cali screamed, running at her, and Geneva ran towards her coming at her side with a left jab. The force of the punch knocked Cali against a trash can making her stumble.
She slashed at the air aiming for Geneva’s face. She weaved around her, going into a roundhouse kick that sent the vampire flying into the air. She landed on the ground with a thud. As she raised, Geneva took a piece of broken wood and forced it into her heart. The vampire shrieked as flames covered her body. The other two bodies shriveled to dust. Geneva dropped her blade as she leaned on the brick way.
She coughed, wiping her mouth, and saw the blood in her hand. Nausea and dizziness overcame her as her vision became blurry. Her legs gave out, and she fell to the ground, losing consciousness as someone walked up to her.
The bedframe banged against the wall. Gasps and moans filled the air as he hoisted her legs over his shoulders, changing the angle. Her eyes widened as he drove deeper into her cunt. She removed her hands from the headboard and dug her nails into his back. He hissed, eyes closed, relishing the pain and pleasure. His lips found hers in a sloppy kiss. Tongues swirling for dominance, she pulled away, teasing him. He snarled at the loss of contact and moved one hand to wrap it around her throat. Fingers lightly pressing down on her airway, he smirked, watching her reaction. It made her clench her muscles causing him to shudder.
“Like that?”
She nodded eagerly.
He licked his lips. “Such a good girl...and all mine.”
She whimpered as he kissed her deeply, removing her fingers to caress her cheek.
“Angel...my angel.”
“J–”
Geneva’s eyes opened. The sudden light in the room made her shy away into the dark of the comforter she laid under. Adjusting to the natural light in the room, she pulled the comforter and looked around the room. She wasn’t in her hotel room. Frowning, she began to sit up only to stop when the pain escalated. She grabbed her side and groaned. Her ribs ached. She glanced down to see that her wound had been wrapped in a bandage.
“You’re finally awake."
Geneva’s eyes darted across the bedroom to see a man standing in the doorway. He held a tray with a sandwich, fruit, and a glass of water. Her face slowly grew in recognition. Ash gray hair, piercing eyes, those plump lips...it was the guy from the club! He walked over and set the tray on the tiny nightstand. Decked in a white shirt and jeans, he opted for casual–since he slept almost in nude. Giving her some space, he leaned against the dresser across the room.
"You've been out for a while. I was worried when you didn’t wake up after a few hours,” he explained.
"Who are you? Where am I?" Geneva asked firmly, her voice husky.
Jimin gestured for her to drink the glass of water. Geneva grabbed the glass and turned it over, a frown on her lips.
“I don’t know you, let alone trust you. You better explain yourself or things are going to get much more complicated for you.”
He gulped softly. She meant every word. He nodded and began to speak.
"My name is Park Jimin. I found you unconscious behind the club last night. I figured you didn’t want the cops involved, so I brought you back to my place and bandaged you up."
Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “How did you know where I was?”
Jimin cleared his throat as he scratched the back of his head. “I admit...well, I saw you go towards the restrooms, and a group of people followed after.”
“So you were watching me.”
His eyes grew big as he shook his head. “Not...not like that. They looked sketchy.”
And you managed to take them all down by yourself.
Geneva didn’t seem convinced. With some effort, she got out of bed. “Thanks, but I don’t need your help. I can take care of myself.”
“Great job you did last night,” he replied.
She found her shoes and limped towards the door. “Unless you want some trouble, don’t fuck with me.”
Jimin crossed his arms over his chest as a smirk appeared. “I killed that first guy.”
Geneva paused as she twisted the doorknob. Turning to face him. “What?”
“You heard me,” he said, walking towards her. “I was the one that shot him. He was a vampire, and he was going to kill you if I hadn’t stepped in.”
“You–”
With a blur, Jimin was in front of Geneva, his hands caging her against the door. He gave her a coy smile.
“For your first question, yes, I am. The next one, no, I’m not going to kill you.”
Geneva let out an audible gulp. It wasn’t like her to show emotion at that moment. With him being so close, it scared her. Jimin reached out only to have her recoil from his touch. He frowned, stepping back to give her space.
Visibly shaken, Geneva attempted to calm herself down. “This is your get out of jail free card, but I’m warning you, if I see you again on the street, I will not hesitate to kill you.”
With that said, she practically ran out of his bedroom and the apartment. Jimin heard the door slam as he exhaled.
“That did not go as planned.”
Geneva stepped under the water as the steam crept into the bathroom. She let the scalding hot water clear her head as she stood under the showerhead. Grabbing her loofah, she scrubbed her skin until it felt raw.
He touched me.
She didn’t want to think about it anymore. She was a hunter. She killed things like him. Why did she leave? Geneva should have put a stake right in his chest and moved on. Bile burned her throat as she felt nauseous once more. She leaned on the shower wall, trying to rack her brain around last night’s events. She shook her head. The best thing to do was to avoid him.
And if I see him again, I will kill him.
Once her skin started to prune, she twisted the knob and stepped out of the shower. Walking out in a towel, she collapsed on her bed, exhaustion overcoming her at once. Her eyes watched the ceiling fan turn as she figured out her next move.
“Fuck.”
She knew what she needed to do, and she wasn’t looking forward to it. Geneva reached for her phone and typed in a number. The person answered, and she sighed.
“Yeah. Can we meet? Alright. See you later on, Yoongi.”
---
She stared at the plate in front of her. The beignets were untouched. Yoongi came over with two cups of coffee and placed them on the table. He frowned, staring at her.
“You love Cafe Du Monde beignets.”
She mumbled, pushing them towards him. Yoongi’s brow raised, but he sat down with a grunt. He pulled out a cigarette, lit it, and looked around the outdoor patio area. Geneva stared at the cafe au lait in front of her, unsure of what to say. But knowing Yoongi, he wouldn’t prompt her. One of the many qualities she respected about him. He didn’t say unnecessary things, only what was important or relevant.
“I noticed you are limping,” he stated as he drank his coffee.
“Was ambushed by a few vampires the night before while I was investigating the missing bodies.”
He paused as he lifted his cup to put it down. “You managed to kill them all?”
“Two. Someone killed the other one.”
Looking perplexed, Yoongi sat back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. “There‘s not another hunter in the area. I would have known about it.”
Geneva felt the dread fill her heart, still unsure of how Yoongi would react. “A-A vampire killed the other one.”
Silence fell between them. She looked anywhere but at him. Yoongi’s lip thinned, but he let out a deep breath. “First off, are you alright?”
She hesitated but shook her head. “I don’t even know. After the attack, I must have passed out, and I woke up this morning at his place. He patched me up and claimed he didn’t want to hurt me. Said his name was Park Jimin–”
“Park Jimin?” Yoongi looked more pale than usual. He coughed slightly, looking away.
Geneva frowned, staring at him. “Y-You know of him?”
Yoongi’s eyes hardened as he stood. “Stay away from him.”
Geneva scoffed as she followed suit, standing and pushing in her chair. “I don’t intend to–”
“Just promise me that. I can’t explain now, but I swear it will make sense soon enough. Stay away from Park Jimin; avoid him at all costs. For now, stop investigating. Wait for my call later.”
He left without another word leaving Geneva very self-conscious. Why would he even say that? She’d never seen him so unhinged before. Yoongi was always someone who kept a cool head when times got rough. It made him an efficient hunter. One who could think on his feet at a moment’s notice. She didn’t like feeling this unsure. Geneva walked down the street deep in thought. The conversation with Yoongi still on her mind. She couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling she felt. If she wanted to admit it to herself, she couldn’t stop thinking about Jimin. While she was ready to attack, he remained calm the entire time. At the time, the look in his eyes wasn’t of a blood-thirsty killer. She almost felt safe in his presence.
Silly girl.
She shook her head, grimacing. There was no way.
You want to see him again.
She felt ill. “I can’t do this.”
Resolve made her go back to her hotel room. While the itch to go hunt was apparent, she didn’t want to disobey Yoongi’s orders. She would wait for his call and go from there.
---
Jimin licked his fingers with a frown. He propped the woman against the wall and walked away. Adjusting his jacket, he cleared his throat and walked out the alleyway. He muttered to himself as he walked down the street. Distracted by his thoughts, he had no time to react to someone grabbing him and shoving him into an abandoned building. Jimin grunted in pain as he stumbled over the debris and fell to the floor. A flashlight hit his face, making him cover his eyes.
“What the fuck–”
“Best if you keep your mouth shut,” they warned.
Realization crossed his face as he recognized the voice. He rose to his feet, wiping the dust from his clothes.
“Hello, Yoongi.”
The older man lowered his flashlight, clicking it off. A scowl darkened on his face. “We had an agreement.”
Jimin chuckled as he leaned against a pillar. “We did? Yoongi, at my age, I tend to forget certain things–”
Yoongi lunged for the vampire, grabbing the front of his shirt. Jimin’s head struck the pillar as Yoongi growled, shaking him.
“Do you realize what you could do? Everything was going well, and you had to go and fuck it up! It was simple. I’d clean up your killings and you can do what you please.”
“Nothing to clean up. The woman isn’t dead in the alley,” he explained.
Yoongi blinked as his expression looked perplexed. “What do you mean?”
“I only drank what I needed. She’s not dead. Go check,” he said.
“You’re not off the hook.”
“I don’t know–”
“It’s in your best interest not to bullshit me, Jimin. I know you’ve talked to her. Hell, you had her at your apartment! What the fuck is wrong with you?!”
Jimin shrugged with some effort. “It wasn’t a big deal. She ran away from me, even threatened me when I tried chatting her up.”
Yoongi snarled, releasing his hold on him and stepping back. With a yell, he kicked a broken chair.
“You better hope that she won’t remember you.”
Hurt flashed across Jimin’s face before he covered it by rolling his eyes. “Not like that is ever gonna happen.”
Yoongi shot him a look. “I’m serious. This could blow up in our faces. You don’t realize the trouble I could get in for even being seen with you. Geneva can’t know anything about you. You need to leave town.”
“Like hell. You send her away! I was here first,” he retorted.
“I would think a creature like you would have resources,” Yoongi taunted. “Geneva asked about who you are; now I have to clean up your mess, again.”
He looked crestfallen. Jimin sighed heavily as he met Yoongi’s eyes. “Alright. I’ll leave town tomorrow. I couldn’t bear for anything to happen to her.”
Yoongi’s scowl dropped as he pushed the hair off his face. “It won’t. I’ll make sure of it.”
Jimin pushed past Yoongi, his steps slower than usual. “Hold your end of the bargain, Min. That’s all I ask.”
“Done.”
---
Geneva was restless. Who knew when Yoongi would call her. She had her plan, and she refused to wait around for anyone. As much as she needed to stay away from Jimin, she needed to find him. If it weren’t for how Yoongi reacted to his name, she would have moved on, but her intuition told her to pursue it. She wasn’t one to back down from it. That gift saved her many times before.
“I’ll go back to the Red Death,” she told herself.
Crowded, as usual, she weaved through the crowd, eyes scanning for some familiarity. She sat at the bar, ordering a drink to distract her from her thoughts.
“Looking for me?”
She looked up from her drink to see him standing next to her. Looking just as ethereal as he did the first time they met, Jimin brushed his hair off his face staring at her with unashamed desire. Geneva nodded slowly. Jimin took her hand, brought it up to his lips, and kissed it gently. Geneva’s heart hammered in her chest. Her tongue felt thick in her mouth as she tried to speak.
“We...we–”
“We should go somewhere and talk,” Jimin finished, an inviting smile on his lips.
“Y-Yes.”
He placed some money on the table and helped her out of her chair. “You choose the place.”
“My hotel room. We won’t be disturbed.”
“Okay.”
Geneva paced around the room as Jimin leaned against the dresser. He watched as she fiddled with everything in the room, picking up items to keep busy. She’d never been this anxious before.
“Geneva–”
“Would you like something to drink? Water? Wine? Whiskey?” Geneva hurried over to the minibar, immersing herself in the task.
She didn’t realize her hands were shaking as she tried to pour the whiskey into the glasses. Her hands steadied as Jimin stepped forward, wrapping his hand over hers. Her eyes met his, and she exhaled. He gave a look, jerking his head towards the chaise lounge, and she took the hint to sit down. Jimin poured them each a healthy portion and sat across from her to give her space. They say in silence; the only sounds were the ice cubes clinking in their glasses.
Geneva let out a deep breath and placed her drink down. “Who are you to me?”
Jimin leaned back, crossing his leg over the other. “You have questions.”
“Isn’t it obvious? I-I don’t why but I have this feeling that I needed to find you. I’m not sure what it is, but there’s a pull to you. I’m confused because I don’t even know who you are. And the one person I trust won’t be honest with me so maybe you explain it.”
Jimin let out a short laugh, shaking his head. “It’s...it’s complicated.”
“Try me,” she barked. “Because I was fine until you came into my life. I need to know why I am supposed to stay away from you.”
Jimin rubbed his face in frustration. To tell her or not to say to her. Yoongi would murder him, but she was the one that sought him out. Why deny her the answers she sought.
“I need to know,” she added.
“I thought I was over you,” he began. “When I saw you that first at Red Death, I couldn’t believe it. You were there right in front of me.”
He smiled fondly as his face softened. “I didn’t think it was possible. I thought I lost you back then.”
“What are you talking about, Jimin?”
“You’re my mate,” he answered quietly.
Geneva blinked in disbelief. “What?”
Jimin shook his head. “I mean, you were...not you, but a reincarnation.”
She couldn’t believe her ears. “I don’t understand.”
Jimin pulled something out of his coat pocket and handed it to her. She unfolded the paper to reveal a picture of a woman who looked exactly like her. She brushed her hands over the photo.
“I can’t believe this.”
“Believe it.”
She glanced at him curiously. “What happened?”
Jimin swallowed the lump, trying to form in his throat. “She died of tuberculosis. I was changed while on a trip. I wasn’t there for her and lived with that guilt each day.”
She gave him back the photo. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. By some fate, we’ve found each other again.”
Geneva rose from her chair, shaking her head. “You’re wrong. This would never work out. I hunt your kind, vicious, bloody killers.”
Jimin frowned. “If I were like them, I would have killed you during that ambush. Instead, I killed one of my own and nursed you back to health.”
She let out a harsh laugh. “What? Do you think that absolves you for all the sins you’ve committed? Do you want my gratitude?! I would have gone down fighting. I know what I signed up for. I’ve been trained to do this. Who are you to take that from me?”
Jimin winced at the jarring remarks. He stood, eyes to the floor. This woman wasn’t her. There was no way. Whatever had been there in the past was gone.
“You’re right. I overstepped my boundaries. Yoongi warned me, and I didn’t listen.”
Geneva turned her back to him, rubbing the back of her neck as she looked out the window. Jimin observed her body language. Did she mean what she said? Was she just pushing him away? She felt drawn toward him, but it goes against all of her training.
“Please leave,” she ordered.
Her eyes closed just as she felt the cool touch of his fingers encircle her body. Jimin rested his forehead on her back.
“You wouldn’t be this angry if it weren’t true, but I know you, Geneva. You can’t deny the pull you have towards me. You’ve been having dreams, right?”
She remained silent.
Jimin rotated her around to face him, tentatively. He lifted her chin, tilting her face to meet his stare.
“Kiss me.”
“What?”
“Show me you don’t care. If you feel nothing, I’ll leave town never to bother you again,” he propositioned.
“I–”
Their eyes locked as his finger touched her lips. “Don’t overthink it.”
Jimin bent down and brushed his lips on hers gently. There was no urgency in the kiss. To his surprise, Geneva reciprocated the kiss. Her hands found their way to the back of his head, pulling him closer. Jimin wasted no time bringing her into his arms. Their kiss deepened as their mouths explored one another. His lips were so soft, so inviting. Jimin was addicted to her, and he needed more. His tongue pressed against her lips, wanting access. She gladly accepted. Growls formed in his throat as he gripped her backside and lifted her off the floor. Her back hit the wall as the pair continued to kiss feverishly. Jimin took her breath away, swallowing all her moans and whines. Fingers digging into the curve of her ass. Their lips parted, letting Geneva catch her breath. She bit her bottom lip staring at him.
“Wow.”
A cocky smirk appeared on his face. “Not bad, eh?”
She chuckled, flicking his forehead. “I’ve had better.”
His brow raised. “Have you now.”
In one fluid motion, his hand smacked her backside, making her jump. “I may need to try harder.”
It seemed a fire ignited in her eyes as she nuzzled against him, placing a kiss on his neck. Jimin froze, trying to hold back a moan. “I guess you do.”
His eyes darted over to the bed. “There?”
“Or here.”
Jimin put her down and turned her around. Geneva stuck her ass out, causing him to swat it. She cooed as he nearly ripped her shorts off. Jimin undid his pants, pushing them down past his ass. He kissed a trail up her neck and massaged her hips.
“I’ll be gentle,” he murmured.
“Don’t,” she whimpered impatiently.
Cock already erect and dribbling precum, Jimin fisted his shaft with a hiss. He tapped the head on her ass with a smile. Finding that sweet spot on her neck, Jimin guided the head of his shaft past her entrance. Her scent was intoxicating. He almost cried out at how her walls clenched him. Jimin suckled the spot on her neck as he inched in. Geneva’s legs trembled, trying her best to relax.
“J-Jimin,” she purred.
“Almost there, angel. Relax for me,” he whispered.
Soon he bottomed out, groaning at the sensation. She didn’t want gentle, and he’d gladly fulfill her wishes. Fingers dug into her hips as he snapped into her with steady thrusts. Each was making her body jiggle. Geneva’s hands braced the wall, letting out a few straggled cries. Jimin slapped her backside, letting out guttural groans.
“F-Fuck angel. You feel heavenly,” he cooed.
Her legs shook from standing, and Jimin turned her back around and wrapped her legs around him; she slid back onto him, crying out at the new angle. He bounced her on his cock, sliding his shaft into her cunt. His balls slapped against her ass as his thrust quickened.
Geneva’s eyes squeezed shut, not wanting it to end. He felt so good. It was unlike anything she’d ever imagined. Her walls quivered around his length, and he knew she was close. He pulsed inside her knowing he’d follow soon enough. Without another thought, he brought her over to the bed. Jimin propped her legs over his shoulder, driving into her cunt. His muscles were contracting. Face contorted in concentration, he forced himself deeper, brushing against her g spot. Geneva’s moans grew louder as she scratched his back. He hissed, loving the pain it caused.
“Angel, are you gonna cum for me?”
Geneva nodded as she sank into the pillows.
“Words, darling. Let me hear you speak,” he cooed.
“Y-Yes. I’m gonna cum for you.”
Jimin let out a needy moan as his eyes rolled back. “Shit, I’m gonna fill you up, make it spill out. Can I do that, angel? Can I please?”
“Please do, Jimin! Please!”
It was music to his ears. Jimin grabbed her ankle, kissing her up and down her calf as he moved, wanting her to feel just as good as he was feeling. By the sounds she made, it was only a matter of time. Geneva’s hips raised as she felt knots in her stomach start to unravel. Her walls throbbed around his length as she met his rhythm.
“Jimin,” she whimpered.
“It’s alright,” he urged. “You can let go, angel.”
It was all she needed. It felt as if electricity jolted through her body, an earth-shattering moment frozen in time. Jimin watched in awe as her mouth shaped the perfect ‘o’. Mesmerized, his orgasm not far after her, letting out a slew of curses groaning her name as he coated her walls white. He spilled his seed deep into her cunt, grunting. His arms gave out as he collapsed on top of her. Geneva stroked his air as they caught their second wind.
Jimin lifted his head, giving her a lopsided grin. “Are you okay?”
Geneva poked his nose with her finger and chuckled. “I’m more than okay.”
His eyes sparkled darkly as he licked his lips. “Excellent. My appetite is still insatiable.”
“What do you mean?”
“Better if I show you, angel.”
Jimin slipped from her folds with a content sigh and spread her legs. He gazed at her weeping pussy, his seed seeping out. The drool almost fell from his lips as he got on his knees. Once he was at eye level, he kissed her inner thigh. Geneva gasped, reaching to grip his hair. Jimin smirked.
“My my. Such a needy angel. Can’t wait to taste this pretty pussy.” He looked up at her searching her eyes. “May I?”
“Oh yes, Jimin!”
“As you wish.”
Jimin ran his tongue along her fold, tasting their combined juices. He cried out sinfully as he feasted, his tongue dipping into her core. Geneva was a shivering mess. Overstimulation took over as he suckled her clit. She anchored his head in place, not wanting to move from that spot.
“I’m gonna–”
She shrieked as her hips rocked against his mouth, the white-hot lights flashing across her eyes as she rode her orgasm. It came so fast, so sudden. She didn’t know how to react. The wind left her lungs, making her fall to the bed, gasping. Jimin sat back on his heels, licking the remnants off his lips and face. He crawled back up to Geneva and wrapped his arms around her, nuzzling against her. He stroked her bangs off her face whispering soft, kind words to her. He rubbed circles on her skin as she came down from her high. It soothed her as she cuddled against him.
“That wasn’t over-excessive, was it?”
“No,” she answered, looking at him with a reassuring smile.
“Are you sure?” He asked with a frown.
Geneva scoffed but hid a smirk. “I fight supernatural creatures. I think I can take a bit of a beating.”
Jimin rolled his eyes as he pulled her close and planted a kiss on her lips. “I’m not going to do anything you’re not comfortable with.”
He kissed her forehead and motioned towards the bathroom. “I think we’ve earned ourselves a nice long bath, don’t you think?”
“Mhmm.”
“I’ll be right back.”
He got up from the bed and went into the bathroom. Geneva heard him moving around, and the faucets from the clawfoot bathtub turned on. He returned soon enough and picked her up bridal style. Geneva yelped in surprise as he carried her into the bathroom.
“I can walk, Jimin.”
“I know,” he said airily.
She readied her mouth to argue but set her on edge. She checked to see if the water wasn’t too hot and slipped under the bubbles he added. Geneva let out a loud sigh as the water soothed her muscles. Jimin joined, sitting behind her and kissing each shoulder. Geneva relaxed against him as they just sat enjoying the quiet of the bath.
“Comfortable?”
“Very.”
As he began to wash her back, Geneva let her mind wander. Where did this leave them? Did she care for him? He seemed to care for her. Maybe even love her. It scared her, in a way. It happened so quickly. The risk for her was more significant than him. She was going against everything she’d been taught. Betraying everyone. If Yoongi found out, he’d have no choice but to banish her or, worse. She shuddered at the thought.
Jimin observed the emotions change on her face. Had he been wrong to tell her everything? He broke the agreement between him and Yoongi, but Geneva had to know. It was wrong to keep such a vital secret away from her. And she'd decide what she would do with it.
“Jimin–”
“Geneva–”
They laughed once they realized they spoke at the same time. Jimin smiled softly at her. “You go first.”
She focused on the bubbles in the bath, figuring out how to form her thoughts. “I’m not sure how to say this, but–”
Jimin grabbed her hand and squeezed it gently. “There’s no pressure. We don’t have to figure things out right away. That’s what we can deal with in the future. For now, we can enjoy the moment. Sounds okay?”
A smile spread on her face, and she nodded. “Okay.”
Nuzzling against him, she felt his length poke her back. She placed her hand on his face and leaned in to kiss him. Jimin dropped the washcloth wrapping his arms around her. Geneva twisted around in his lap to straddle him. Jimin lined himself up at her entrance as she sank on his cock. They groaned out as her head dropped to his shoulder.
“Damn, still so tight,” he moaned.
Geneva kissed along his neck, stroking his hair. He caressed her skin, lifting and squeezing her as she rode him slowly. The water splashed around them as she picked up her pace. Jimin moaned, seeking out her lips as he turned her head for another kiss, and he obliged, cupping her chin in his hand as he sucked on her tongue. She was close. Her body quivered against his. His cock once again throbbed inside her cunt.
“Angel, I’m close,” he whispered, nibbling on her earlobe.
“Me too,” she gasped.
Jimin took over, fingers digging into her sides as he bounced her hard on him, the water spilling out of the tub and onto the floor. Unlike her last two orgasms, this one came so quickly she had no time to prepare. Geneva let out a strangled cry as he silenced her with a kiss, swallowing the sounds. Her body jerked against his, convulsing in the tub. Jimin held her tight, riding out his release soon after. Chest rising, he laid back in the tub, rubbing her back until she stirred. By then, the water was cold, and they drained the tub and took a shower together. Jimin washed her with care, making sure she was clean and dried her with a towel. He carried her back to the bed and laid down next to her engulfing her in his arms. Even though he was cool to the touch, Geneva found comfort in his embrace. It didn’t take long for her to drift off to sleep as he massaged her scalp gently.
The cold barrel of the gun pressed to his cheek, rousing him awake. Jimin’s eyes opened to see Yoongi glaring at him. Nonverbally, the older man gestured for him to get out of the bed. With caution, Jimin removed his arm from around Geneva’s sleeping form and slipped out the bed. He put on his pants and walked out to the balcony. Yoongi closed the door behind him, the gun still pointed at the vampire.
“I could end your life right now. Just one shot and it would be all over.”
“Yoongi–”
“Shut the fuck up you piece of shit,” Yoongi growled as he waved the gun. “You just had to see her. What were you thinking?!”
Jimin shifted as he tried to figure out how to calm him down. This could be bad for him and he didn’t want to make the situation worse.
“She sought me out, Yoongi. What was I going to do? Deny her that much. She couldn’t stay in the dark anymore.”
“That wasn’t for you to decide. I’m done cleaning up your messes. You’re nothing but a bloodthirsty killer.”
“I-I don’t want to be like that”
“She’s mine!”
Jimin's face twisted into a snarl, his fangs appearing as his eyes flashed. “She never belonged to you. Geneva doesn’t belong to anyone! ”
Yoongi’s eyes darkened with rage as he used his thumb to pull the hammer back. “I’m sorry things didn’t go as planned Jimin. She’ll come to understand that your death served a better purpose. Goodbye.”
Geneva rushed out onto the balcony jumping in between Yoongi and Jimin. Yoongi misfired as the bullet whizzed past Jimin’s ear.
“Geneva–”
“I heard it all Yoongi.”
Disappointment crossed her face.
“I trusted you with my life. Why weren’t you ever honest with me?”
“It’s not simple Geneva. There were things that were out of my control.”
“Bullshit! You were the only constant in my life. I-I looked up to you, admired you. Thought you could never do any wrong. If anything, you betrayed me.”
Yoongi’s hands began to shake as he stared at her. “You’re a hunter, Geneva. I gave you the tools to succeed. You’ve made me proud. We can start anew. Move aside and this can be swept under the rug.”
Geneva turned her head to look at Jimin, a small smile of reassurance on her face. “I can’t. I can’t stand by while you kill him.”
“It’s him or me,” Yoongi ordered.
Her eyes hardened as she exhaled deeply. “Him. As fucked up as that is, I’ll take my chances with him, Yoongi.”
He gritted his teeth and aimed the gun at her. “Very well. You’ve made your decision. I’m sorry it had to end this way–”
Geneva’s reflexes kicked in as she sprung on Yoongi trying to knock the gun from his hand. They struggled around as Yoongi took the opportunity to slam his fist into her injured side. Geneva choked back a cry as the sharp pain tore through her body. Clenching her teeth, she slammed her palm into his nose. Blood spurted as he howled in pain dropping the gun.
She grabbed it off the ground pointing it back at him. Yoongi dropped his hand as the blood flowed from his nose. “So it’s come to this?”
She chuckled bitterly, holding her gaze. “Your own fault for teaching me.”
“One of the best.”
Jimin stepped forward and placed his hand on her shoulder. “Do you want to do this?”
“He’ll hunt us down if I don’t.”
“Do you want his blood on your hands?”
The gun felt so heavy in her hand. Could she do this? Kill him for her own selfish reasons. The doubt she felt would be ridiculed for weakness. This only proved that she wanted no part of this life anymore.
“I’m sorry Yoongi.”
“No, I’m sorry.”
Geneva blinked. Time seemed to slow down as she coughed and something dribbled down her lips. Horror crossed Jimin’s face.
“Geneva!”
She collapsed to her ground as the blood seeped from the wound in her abdomen. Jimin hissed at Yoongi. The gun in his hand dropped. Jimin yelled out as he and Yoongi ran at each other, fists raised. Jimin’s fist punched wildly at Yoongi, trying to connect with anything.
“You think I’m a monster?! You’re the monster!”
Jimin made contact with Yoongi’s nose making the man howl louder. Jimin’s strength grew as he tore at Yoongi’s shirt, exposing his neck. He licked his lips eyeing the veins.
“I should end it now. But a quick death is too good for you.”
Yoongi attempted to fight off his hold trying to wretch away. Jimin shoved him to the ground. With dead eyes, the vampire took the gun and shot Yoongi’s kneecaps. The sound alone rang out into the night. Yoongi let out a rattled breath.
“K-Kill me now!”
“Your blood isn’t worthy,” Jimin spat. Throwing the gun away, he picked up Yoongi by the scruff of his neck and brought him over to the balcony railing. Yoongi spit out blood towards him with a groan. “You’ll burn in hell.”
“Good. I know I’ll have some company with you there. Goodbye Yoongi.”
He pushed him over the railing without another word. Yoongi’s cries drowned out as he dropped to the ground until Jimin heard the body smash into the pavement. He sighed, closing his eyes.
“I failed you, Geneva.”
“J-Jimin.”
His eyes popped open to see her struggling to sit up. He ran over to her kneeling next to her and had her lean against him.
His eyes softened as he brushed the hair off her face. “I thought I lost you.”
She shivered in his arms reaching out for his hand. “J-Jimin I-I s-so c-c-cold.”
“It’s gonna be okay. You’ll be fine.”
She laughed weakly only making her cough out violently. “Liar.” Jimin shook his head as he tried to hide the sadness in his voice. “Don’t speak.”
“I-I’m sorry w-we didn’t get to see where this would go.”
Jimin kissed her forehead gently. “There is one way.”
Geneva, still weak, tried to shake her head. “No. I don’t want it.”
“Please. It’s the only way. I can’t lose you,” he begged.
“I’d be going against everything I believe, Jimin,” she whispered.
“Do you love me?”
“I-I don’t k-know,” she answered truthfully.
“I won’t turn you, but my blood can heal your wounds. Let me do that.”
Geneva gave him a look of resolve. “Okay.”
Jimin bit into his hand and held the wound up to her mouth. “Drink. You won’t change. That can only happen if I drink from you.”
Geneva let the warm liquid flow into her mouth. The iron taste changed to something sweet as she sipped it slowly. Jimin watched as the wound in her stomach stopped bleeding. He pulled away his hand wrapping a piece of cloth around it and held her.
“We’ll get through this together, I promise you that.”
After cleaning them both up, Jimin helped her towards Yoongi’s car. By his estimate, they had half a day’s lead before anyone would get suspicious. Geneva, still weak from her injury, slept quietly in the front seat. Jimin caressed her cheek fondly.
“As long as we’re together, nothing else matters.”
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wow,i am speechless
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Go Go ☆ Taehyung (171012)
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Greedy for You - Chapter 1
Pairing: Demon!Taehyung x Human!Female reader
Genre: angst, fluff, smut, romance, supernatural au
Rate: 18+
Sin: Greed (for the ✥ 7 Deadly Sins Collab ✥ )
Warnings: demonic pact, swearing
Summary: Due to a demonic pact gone (sort of) wrong, you now have to report all your success once a month to the Demon of Greed in exchange for infinite favors and protection. Protection which Kim Taehyung is not so willing to give, as he cannot appoint anyone to do it in his place.
Word count: 1,469
The ream slapped the table. Taehyung looked over the wineglass at the white sheets filled with ink in a flawless print of a work contract. He finished his wine in one gulp, setting the glass down on the dark oak table, careful not to break it the way he really wanted to— it would be the tenth glass destroyed after a visit from you.
You were the worst customer he'd had since he went to earth. Everyone else understood that the payment to him for their success was money, which was used to keep him among humans. He was almost a loan shark, but he didn't exactly like charging interest. When asked, Taehyung said that people who signed a contract with him tithed their income to him. Despite being the demon of greed, he considered himself extremely generous.
Never before has Taehyung had a problem with payments. He liked money, gold, wealth, and people understood that, but not you. For some reason he wasn't quite willing to understand, you always came up with odd payments: a 100% discount at one of the stores run by the company you worked for; a negotiation for the lease of one of his properties, with exorbitant and unscrupulous payments; a position on the company's board of directors; a managerial employment contract for one of his subordinates; and so on. Every time you showed up with these stupid demonstrations of success, Taehyung would break something since he couldn't break you.
Damn contract! Damned deadly sins!
He took a deep breath this time, convincing himself that it wouldn't do any good to break anything since the only person responsible for his anger would only see it as a childish display of power — you'd already mentioned this on your last visit. Dark brown eyes rose from the papers on the table to your face—impenetrable, almost expressionless, with only one eyebrow raised as if waiting for his tantrum.
"What am I getting this time?" Taehyung spoke through clenched teeth, making sure you understood when you bowed your head.
"It's for one of your men, another management position that was left vacant in the company." Your voice was so calm that Taehyung couldn't hold back a sneer.
He leaned back in his chair and watched you for a full minute. He wanted you to agonize over the delay in his response — the others always agonized, not knowing when he would use the wrong pay to terminate the contract, destroy everything they had won, and take their souls —, but you never wavered and it irritated him even more.
Hitting rock bottom seemed to have broken your soul to the point where you feared nothing, not even surrendering your being to hell. Taehyung knew your story. When you signed the contract that damn night, he saw your entire past. This was how it worked, he should have the power to bargain, count on all the cards to threaten his customers with the end of their existence. That's why he knew how screwed you were.
"Do you, by any chance, work in HR?" he finally asked. "What kind of success is this if you are in the most boring area of the company?"
"Controlling people who come and go isn't boring at all," you replied, surprising him yet again, "but we both know I'm not on the internal relations team."
No, you were one of the public relations directors. Your face was plastered on many posters, advertisements, and magazines. It was you who spoke on their behalf since your face was as desirable as all the rest of you.
Involuntarily, the demon's dark eyes roamed over your body. After a while, Taehyung realized that wanting you was also part of the punishment he had inflicted on himself when you signed the contract. Your exotic standards of beauty were as lusty as your sinful soul and Taehyung found himself constantly wanting to take you for himself.
“I don't need this,'' he said, trying to hide how much your presence disturbed him. “Why don't you bring me something really useful? Like half of your salary above average or the fee you received for the commercial?”
“How can money be more useful than one more chance to control the largest chain of convenience stores in the country and one of the largest in the world? Don't you have enough money already?”
This time, Taehyung laughed. And it was one of the few times he saw an expression of surprise come over your face, as you never expected him to end up in a good mood with your digs.
“I think you forgot who I am,” he commented when he finally managed to control his laughter. Then he sighed before continuing, “But, as always, you proved an important point. Another lesser demon was sent to earth by my father, so I need to get him something to do.”
"Do you also deal with demons?" Your furrowed brows fascinated Taehyung and he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.
"Not exactly. Let's say they understand that they should give me something to allow them to live in my territory.”
"I didn't know you owned a place on earth."
"As usual, Y/N, you underestimate me."
You were silent again, just staring at each other. When the demon's smile grew, showing the whitest of teeth, and he tilted his head, you took a deep breath and spoke again: “May I leave then? I've already made my payment."
“Oh, that reminds me..." Taehyung got up, walked around the oak table, and stopped in front of you, just a few feet away. "What do you want now? Do you have a specific wish or can I just give you another raise?”
“I want the evening news interview,” you replied after hesitating for a few seconds.
Taehyung nodded, then looked past you to the huge window that covered the entire wall of the penthouse apartment.
“As simple as a raise,” he mused, noting the smaller demons that served him standing on the porch, a protective barrier few would understand. "You know," he looked back at you, serious again, watching the lines on your face, "sometimes I think you dream small."
“There's nothing simple or small about appearing on national television as a spokesperson for one of the biggest companies in the country,” you challenged him, lifting your chin proudly.
“No, for anyone in this world, it wouldn't be small. But you have me. Our contract says I must give you what you want as long as you keep my payments. Why are you just asking for an interview in the news? Why did you never ask me to make you a majority shareholder? Wouldn't it be easier to have the whole company in your hands?”
"And what would I ask for next?"
"Y/N," Taehyung whispered, running his fingers lightly over your face, in a caress that could be mistaken for a threat were it not for the contract between you, "you're too smart for your own good."
You swallowed hard and walked away.
"I'll take that as a compliment." When you finished speaking, Taehyung smiled again and shrugged. "So can I go now?"
The demon of greed didn't respond with words, just raised his eyebrows and pointed at the door. Afterward, he watched as you wasted no time in fleeing from his presence.
As much as you annoyed him with your stupid payments, you fascinated him. You were as greedy as he was, which was why you had overcome your other sins that night and signed the contract with him, not his brothers. However, you knew that you needed to take your time to get what you really wanted because when you did, the contract would end on its own and your soul would be his forever. You feared him, but at the same time you mocked him.
Taehyung took the wine bottle and refilled the glass on the table, which he miraculously hadn't destroyed. As he took in the liquid as dark as your soul, he went back to watching the porch and its demons. He didn't really need them, his little finger was stronger than any of them, but he liked having them there to avoid a surprise. The demons of deadly sins had more enemies than anyone could imagine.
When he was about to finish drinking the contents of the wineglass, he felt the shiver. He sighed, sipped his wine, and headed for the apartment door. The contract he had with you didn't just cover your success and his payments. Taehyung was supposed to keep you alive and whenever that truth was threatened, a shiver warned him of danger.
In fact, this was a part of the contract that hadn't tired or irritated him yet. Taehyung liked to know you were safe.
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#btsgif#he cool#bangtanarmynet#networkbangtan#armysource#heartsforbts#armygfx#purplearmynet#btsgoldnet#ipurpleunet#95line.net#vhopenet#ktaenet#vantaenet#thekimlinenet#thebtstown#btsprotectnet#m:gifs#taehyung
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Brain Break #57
Pairing: Taehyung x Reader
Rating: NSFW
Genre: Smut
Word Count: 750
Warnings: First time with Tae, implied smut
Author’s Note: Listen, I know it's late. But it's here.
My Masterlist
Knocking on the unknown door, you couldn’t help the bit of anxiety that flipped your stomach as you waited for it to open. The breath you’d been holding rushed out of you as the door opened and you were greeted with that familiar boxy smile.
Taehyung had started out as a friend of a friend, but the two of you had gotten closer as time progressed. When he’d told you that he wanted to take you out on a date, you had been completely surprised. When the friend who’d introduced the two of you had reached out the next day, asking if it was okay to give Taehyung your contact info, you still didn’t quite believe it. Even now, standing at his door with him smiling at you, it still didn’t seem real.
“Hi,” Taehyung said softly, breaking you out of the trance you apparently had been stuck in.
“Hey,” You answered back, unable to keep the smile off your face as the man in front of you stepped aside, silently welcoming you inside.
Walking past him, you looked around curiously. The space was so unabashedly Taehyung. The warm tones the living room was decorated in, the smell of sandalwood and vanilla that filled the air, the modern but simple furniture. All of it was just him. The only thing out of place was the large, black, and expensive-looking TV with brightly colored characters on the screen.
The chuckle from behind startled you. Turning, Taehyung was much closer than you expected him to be. Gulping, you tried to deflect his attention from the heat of embarrassment creeping up your neck. “Is that Tiny Tina?”
Taehyung’s eyes lit up with child-like glee as he nodded and dragged you over to his couch. It took an absurd amount of control to not coo at his reaction as he picked up the controller and started showing you the ins and outs of the game and his character. His excitement was contagious and you couldn’t help but feel bad when he died.
“Well, that sucked. Probably should have used that other gun…” Your words were cut off as Taehyung placed his hand on your cheek, turning your face to his. He was so close that you couldn’t focus on both of his eyes at the same time. Still, you could see as he watched your reaction, his eyes flicking between your own, then down to your lips briefly.
“Can...” He started before licking his lips. “Would it be okay if I kissed you?”
Stunned, you nodded slightly before closing your eyes and leaning in closer to him. After a few seconds that felt like hours, Taehyung still hadn’t moved. Cracking your eyes open, he seemed to be stuck in the same stop he’d been in moments before.
“Tae?” You questioned softly. His eyes met yours and you could see just a hint of hesitation. Emboldened, you grabbed his neck, pulling him closer to you. “Kiss me. Please.”
As if he just that small push, Taehyung met your lips with enthusiasm. Wrapping your arms around him, you matched his pace, a small moan passing between the two of you as he pushed you back slightly. One of his hands held the small of your back as the other pressed against the back of your neck, the both of you holding the other so close.
Sitting back, Taehyung stood so quickly that you had to laugh. He smiled at you as he held a hand out to you. Taking it, you allowed him to help you to your feet. Pulling you into the warmth of his arms as you stood, he started moving the two of you deeper into his apartment. Looking over your shoulder, you saw what could only be the door to his bedroom.
“Is this okay?” Taehyung’s voice pulled your attention back to him.
“Depends.” You cocked an eyebrow at him. In your mind, you had already planned and hoped this was where things were going to go when he’d asked you to come over. That’s why you’d worn the pretty black lace panties and bra under your seemingly low-key jeans and tee.
Stopping at your word, Taehyung looked at your questioningly. “On what?” He asked.
Smiling, you eyed him up and down before speaking again. “What do you want?”
“You.” He replied, without any hesitation.
With that, you turned in his arms, pulling your shirt over your head as you pulled away from him, and walked into his room leaving him stunned.
#BangtanArmyNet#ipurpleunet#95line.net#Taehyung x Reader#Taehyung Smut#Taehyung x You#Kim Taehyung x Reader#Kim Taehyung Smut#Kim Taehyung x You#V x Reader#V Smut#V x You#Reka's Brain Breaks
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lovely, lovely, lovely, you’re so lovely ~ (•ɞ•)
#networkbangtan#bt21net#kpopgfxnetwork#95line.net#bts#bangtan#jimin#vlive#silver!jimin#cr:all#m:g#*pjm#jungshiiigif#lately i'm not in the best mood jhewbf#so i'm sorry if i'm just dropping by to post stuff and go#i'll be back soon c.c#3k
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happy birthday to our genius idol & artist with a pure soul, kim taehyung! ✬ 951230
↳ #WinterMiracleV #SnowPrinceTaehyung
cr.: jinggukie (mots on:e d2), namuspromised (ly tokyo) & koreasass (2021 wp)
"There were times when I got really depressed and when I wished someone would hold my hand. I used to feel a lot of hardships like that. But when we started the Love Yourself Tour, I think it served as a turning point in the way I see myself. I think V can show parts of Kim Taehyung and parts of V, but Kim Taehyung can't show V. Kim Taehyung is Kim Taehyung. Kim Taehyung is someone who is still filled with a lot of curiosity and he's inquisitive about a lot of things. There are many things he wants to do.” — V, Break the Silence: The Movie (2020)
#taehyung#v#bts#btsgif#dailybts#dailybangtan#dailydaegu#maknaelinegifs#95line.net#ipurpleunet#networkbangtan#bangtanarmynet#ultkpop#kpopgfxnetwork#kpopccc#kim taehyung#laura.gifs#laura.bts#bts:v#bday
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black swan saga project → jimin
collab with @filmsout and @lyseries ♡
#park jimin#jimin#bts#btsgif#btsedit#armysource#dailybts#95line.net#mygifs#*jimin#*#clm gif project#i was going to do more stages but i wasn't feeling very good these days :/#but i chose my fave ones ♥#the fallon stage: [bless]
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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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