#i was so overstimulated all the fucking tome
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Spiralling AGAIN would you believe it
#txt#trying to figure it out#i tried to be there for jim and listen to him and be a good partner#but he barely opened up#i didnt know he wanted to leave me#he chose to open up when i was mad#so i didnt respond#so that i didnt yell#not that that is his fault#i should have done better#but i couldny#in that house#i was so overstimulated all the fucking tome#time#like always#and i didnt even realise it#until he kicked me put#out*#and now im just guilty over everything.#why wasnt i better#why cpuldnt i be better#its not fair that he didnt tell me#3 months and you really couldnt tell me what was on your mind#thats unfair man#i was trying so hard to be better#to do better#giving him space is almost impossible#hes my best friend and my soul mate#i dont want to talk to anyone else tbh#so being ignored is like a knife to my chest and idk what to do about it and this is my last tag i can put it and i just dont even know
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Anon! Your ask about Billy getting his "well done shag" got deleted (thank you Tumblr!). That can't stop me from writing it through!
Warnings: kissing, overstimulation, handjob, ass play, anal, a dash of spanking, oral (f receiving), squirting.
NSFW and 18+ only under the cut!
Billy is not running on fumes because the whiplash of energy he's gotten from his first week of classes at the adult development center is still carrying him through his shift this evening. It's probably all adrenaline and nervous energy; who cares, as long as he can manage until closing hour he's happy, because he finally gets to be with you and Michael after a week of being three ships sailing at night, too busy with your lives to properly spend time together.
He notices you and Michael at your usual table, both of you with your noses buried in a book, reaching blindly for the packet of crisps next to your beers. He makes the mental note to pop to your table after he's back from the storeroom for a quick chat, finally face to face!
Busy as he is with finding the box of paper napkins, he doesn't hear Michael's footsteps behind him and jumps out of his skin when the other man grabs him by his waist and kisses him, pushing him against the shelves, his hands grabbing Billy's cheeks and his hips grinding against Billy's with slow, gyrating motions. Billy hasn't forgotten about Michael's promise of fucking him as a well done present, he doesn't expect it to happen in the storeroom, where everyone could discover them!
His mind is so clouded with lust that he'd let Michael do that: bend him over the beer kegs and just fuck him quick and dirty. Anything to quench the fire Michael has ignited.
Billy's body sways when Michael steps back enough that a thin line of spit connects their lips.
"This was the entrée. Be quick, the rest awaits for you at home."
Michael leaves Billy like that, breathless and with a raging erection in his jeans: how is he going to finish his shift in these conditions?
You're not helping his case as well: casually you're always popping at the counter, your luscious breasts framed by your crossed arms on the battered wood, the various pendants only helping his eyes to focus on your soft skin: he goes cross eyed at the thought of sucking your nipples while Michael fucks him, which makes his cock swell in his jeans even more and thank God that he's wearing a baggy T-shirt and that you and Michael always order the same thing, or he'll be fucked!
You and Michael wait for him on the benches outside the pub, both still reading those big tomes you two like so much.
"Hey gorgeous." You drawl. "Need some company?"
The way you look at him still makes him blush: he knows that being accused of public indecency is the only reason you are not having your wicked way with him against the first wall available.
"I don't know. I have someone waiting for me at home." He flirts back awkwardly.
"Well, they shouldn't let you walk around on your own, gorgeous. Loads of nasty people around at this time of night." You say, stalking towards him.
Billy has to concentrate on not coming in his pants like a teenager, but the way you sway your hips and the knowledge you are not wearing a bra make the feat almost impossible.
"So, gorgeous. How was your day?"
Billy doesn't answer, just grabs your wrist and drags you towards his apartment, Michael in tow.
It's a miracle you three keep your hands for yourselves and don't scandalize poor Mrs. Hazel, Billy's noisy neighbor, with your antics. When the front door of Billy's apartment closes, he finds himself pinned against the ancient wood, both your and Michael on him, lips and teeth and hands on his skin, all your clothes thrown on the floor. Billy's hands desperately try to find purchase when Michael's hand curls around his cock and jacks him fast, your lips tight on one of his nipples suck harshly: you two have been missing him terribly and now are hungry for him and the delicious sounds of pleasure he can make.
Billy doesn't know how you three fall on his bed or who has put him on his fours, not that it matters, when your breasts are on his face and he can suck hickeys on your skin, drown in the scent of your body lotion as Michael pours lube on his hole and is already one knuckle in, opening him up slowly.
Billy impatiently pushes his hips back, he's been dreaming about this for the whole week, and Michael has to put his free hand on his hip to stop him from hurting himself.
"Pleasepleasemoreplease." It's the mantra muffled against your breasts.
"Shh, here, be good." You offer him one of your nipples and Billy's mouth's fasten around it with harsh pulls that have you moan.
Two fingers in and Billy's body shakes in your embrace, your bosom snuffs his moans when Michael scissors his fingers to make him gape.
"So bloody tight." Michael pants, desire getting to him. "Stop squirming around!"
You can hear the loud crack of Michael's free hand on Billy's arse, as if that would make him stop misbehaving!
You grab his face and kiss him passionately, your tongue fucking his slack mouth the same way Michael's fingers do his arse and Billy's hips push desperately against the bed sheets, his tongue pliant under your assault.
"Eat me out Billy."
You moan when your lips part and he nods enthusiastically showing his face against your center the second you push yourself up in the bed, your legs finding home naturally on his shoulders.
There's no finesse, no technique in the way his tongue laps at your juices or his nose pushes against your clit, just his hunger and desperation, his hands manacles on your hips to keep you against his face. You come when he moans, the vibrations too much for your cunt and wail when he doesn't stop fucking you with his tongue as Michael enters him with a steady push and starts moving, fast and deep in Billy's arse. Your legs kick in overstimulation and Michael simply grabs your ankles and keeps you there open under their weights, as he pounds inside Billy with a week worth of repressed desire, while Billy simply can't stop licking at your folds and sucking on your abused clit, your moans, and Michael's, the only sounds he can hear.
You trash under them, beg for mercy and Billy redoubles his effort, sneaking a hand on your tummy to press there, adding to the pressure you feel as his arse gets pounded mercilessly, his muscle the perfect fist around Michael, who angles against his prostate and bullies the small gland with quick, precise pushes that have Billy scream against your cunt, until you squirt all over his face.
Billy comes untouched, taking Michael with him, both men fall on you, breathless and heavy, not that you care in your fucked stupid state.
You are not sure of when you come back to yourself and to the smell of sex in the room. Billy is laying with his head on your bosom, disheveled and happy, Michael is staring at the two of you with a proud smirk on his face. He's oozing too much male pride for your tastes; yes, your legs are almost jelly, not that's going to stop you from fucking that smirk off his stupid face. And then suck Billy’s brain through his dick for good measure.
Cringefail throuple taglist: @fan-goddess @solisarium
#answered#cringefail throuple#billy washington x reader x michael gavey#billy washington x y/n x michael gavey#michael gavey x reader#michael gavey x y/n#billy washington x reader#billy washington x y/n#michael gavey#billy washington
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over on patreon Werejelly asked for some abyssal lifeforms and i found some sketches of my OC Dark that i never cleaned up so i slapped some color on those bad boys.
Dark is a poet, historian, sea witch, and former pirate captain who was captured along with her two husbands (the two moles you see on her side) when she was a young angler fish mermaid and hauled to the surface to be 'processed' (receive magical body modification against her will until she was 'more attractive' to humans) and sold into the menagerie trade. She has lived in Interesting Times ever since they pulled her out of the ocean and she's honestly not a fan. After her husbands' murder she stole a boat and fled to the sea with a few jailbroken mermaid friends and her child. Then there was piracy and Situations and a surprising amount of fire. Now she's retired.
Fun Facts:
Being dragged to the surface, transformed, and brought into human society was so incredibly overstimulating for her at first that she would tear apart whatever room or enclosure she was in to make a diy sensory deprivation tank just so she could get some form of rest. Dark is the verbal name she chose for herself because she finds it very comforting.
The initial spells they used on her fucked her up pretty bad in the long run. So much chronic illness. Also, it messed with her life span so she has no idea what that is anymore. She's outlived all the friends she met during her piracy days and though she'll have weird bouts of aging she's had her current look for 30 years with no change.
Her current body it the result of spell erosion over the years. She's sloooowly reverting back to something like her true angler fish merm self, which is wild because most menagerie mermaids don't live nearly long enough for this to happen. She's also experimented with shapeshifting and doing body mod spellwork on herself.
Has no idea what she looked like before being brought to the surface and changed. It's not like girlfriend had a mirror around in the pitch black void of the ocean.
Her 'human' lips are mostly for expression and she can open them like a mouth but it is. Creepy.
Always wears black. Skirts are long and flow in a way that hides whatever she has going on down there.
Random Piece Of Driftwood? That's a weird way to say Free Cane.
Can speak just fine but prefers non-verbal communication when around close friends. This can mean signing, writing, or straight up telepathy if her company is down with that (it can be too weird for some but it's how abyssal mermaids naturally 'speak').
Has written tomes of elaborate diss tracks for people who've wronged her. Just for funzies. She has definitely sent copies to these people and their descendants out of petty spiteful boredom.
Can swim alright but can't breathe underwater anymore.
Very dim glow unless she's really worked up/hungry.
LOVES fire.
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a-z (g)i-dle nsfw headcanons: kim minnie (nicha yontarak)
WARNING: smut, small fluff, switch!minnie, switch!reader, gen (fem main) reader, male genitalia mention, all fiction ofc
A= Aftercare (what they’re like after the act)
she's not as sweet as you'd think lol. she'll be very sleep when you wake up from your sessions though
B= Body part (favorite body part their own or their lovers)
she likes her mouth, especially on you. as for you, she likes your hips. anything that shows off your waist makes her physically drool.
C= Cum (anything that has to do with it)
do it all over her. she loves that shit everywhere, especially on her tits.
D= Dirty secret (Pretty self explanatory)
she would one day want you to gag her while forcing her to cum again and again. or force her to fuck you until her hips turn red. but since you like to sub, it could never happen :(
E= Experience (do they know what they’re doing)
she has enough experience to make you feel good. had penetrative sex? maybe. oral? definitely.
F= Favorite position
doggy style is always fun, but her absolute favorite is actually not a position. she likes to see you get yourself off as she watches and taunts you, or herself getting off as you're forced to watch. humiliating exhibitionism.
G= Goofy (how serious are they)
during sex the only time she'd ever be slightly playful is through kissing or overstimulation. but moreover she takes intimate time very seriously.
H= Hair (grooming habits)
i feel like she has a small bush that she only grows out for freaky deaky times, especially if you say that you love it.
I= Intimacy (in the moment romantic or rough/dirty)
she likes it rough, mainly because sex for her is playtime. if you ask her to be soft ste would. for like only one time
J= Jack off (do they masturbate and how often)
*imagining her with a cock* no because she only gets horny when you're around, so she'll just call you over and propose to fuck lol
K= Kink (kinks what they like possibly unusual)
sadism and masochism, especially scratch marks and spankings. she just loves them you know?
L= Location (where they like to get it on)
the answer is bedding. a couch, blankets on the floor, duvet, bed. as long as it's cushioned enough she'll want you.
M= Motivation (things that makes them tick/turn ons)
either bratty behavior or you begging her. if you beg her i promise she'll give you what you want.
N= No (turnoffs or absolutely won’t do)
no harsh markings. she wants you to be red, not blue, purple or gray. if she found out that she broke skin, she'd lose it; kissing the areas, treathing them, apologizing profusely to you and then isolating herself for a while to reflect on how 'horrible she is'. please assure that you're fine :((
O= Oral (receiving or giving and how skillful they are)
headmaster. she loves to give a lot more than receive tbh. like sometimes she'll sit you down and rile you up just to suck your cock and balls/ clit and lips. will leave you shaking at the end
P= Pace (how fast they are and how long they last in bed)
her pace is steady, sometimes teasingly slow to agonizingly fast. unpredictable fr.
Q= Quickie (do they prefer fast and hard)
never happens she loves taking her tome with you.
R= Risk (do they like to try new things)
shet so freaky that i bet she's been to orgy parties and came out the longest running person there.
S= Stamina (how many times they can go and how long each round lasts)
girlie can last, and i mean last last. once she tired you out after having three hours of constant sex-- and she was doing most of the work!
T= Toys (are they game for using sex toys on themselves or lovers)
other than a vibrator and maybe a strap, i don't think she's a toy person. her fingers and tongue are the toys lol
U= Unfair (how do they tease or do they enjoy suspense themselves)
unfair is her middle name. nicha unfair yontarak. kim unfair minnie. loves to see you cry from her constantly teasing and edging you.
V= Volume (are they loud, what sounds, and do they talk)
grunts and groans more st of the time, especially when she's doing most of the fucking. yells melodically when she cums.
W= Wild card (random sincannon of any sort)
your ass was stinging from the slaps, hut you couldn't help but moan once she let one last blow to the butt hit you. honestly you fell in love, and so did she when she saw you crave for more.
X= X-ray (what’s down below in dem pants)
long and thick and proud of it. you might cry if you see it fully erect :((
Y= Yearning (sexdrive level)
surprisingly she doesn't long for sex that much. only when you are is when she feels horny.
Z= Zzzz (do they sleep after if so how quickly after)
is a caring queen. she knows she tires you out so expect her to treat you well and even baby you. if you one day top her, expect her to whine and become the cutest baby for you :(
hope you guys enjoyed this! im honestly not feeling the a-z like i was before, but i already started, so im gonna try to continue it til all the girls are done.
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mtf moira/ftm lucio breeding cw for breeding (of course) dacryphilia, overstim and slight lactation kink
i do not consent to minor interaction, minors dni
longest fic i’ve written to date!! I also know they’re more of a rare pair but i LOOOVEEE them. I’ve been fiddling with this for ages and while i’m still not entirely happy with it I need to show the world them always <333. Posted to ao3 here !!
Everything about them was so different from Lucio’s partners back at home. Hookups in the humid April nights of Rio were too casual for his liking. The conservative environment he faced frequently was all too familiar to him. And he was happy to oblige, so much so that he near convinced himself he didn’t ache for something more. Not a single soul would expect a hedonistic streak out of the DJ.
But Moira was far off from the occasional fling, she knew him and knew what he wanted. She read him like a tome. And no matter how subtle Lucio thought he was being, Moira spotted it with expert precision. At first there was simply something Moira wanted to pick apart, she wanted to dissect his every want and need. Blooming into a near obsession to reverse engineer Lucio’s eros.
It’s what led her to indulge his desires, giving ear to every fantasy that he spun. Lucio reveled in that, naturally. The feeling of being listened to, humoring him in a way that only she did. Lucio was not a demanding lover, not by any sense of the word. He happily fit any role that was asked of him, happy to bring any partner as much pleasure as he possibly could. But there was something different with Moira. A routine that they both found themselves enjoying time and time again.
He sought out his needs in the privacy of her cruel intimacy. There was something inherently off about his partnership with Moira. She was sterile, like there was a chemical bite in her afterglow. That feeling of asepsis served to heighten his arousal, and he found himself with buckled knees and slick dripping down his thighs with every word from her barbed tongue.
And its moments like this — moments where Moira held Lucio down by his throat, opting into fucking him silly, he was more than happy to lay and take. Happy to be a warm hole for her.
“You know…” Moira mused, easing the head of her cock out of Lucio with a slick pop. “You do look quite good like this.”
Lucio whined sweetly in response, so far gone in the rhythm he found to her shallow thrusts. The hypnotizing way her dick disappeared and reappeared into his slick cunt made him paw and scrabble at her, needy and wanting. He chirruped, bucking his hips upwards in a seedy tempo matching her own.
“Puh- merda– Please. Please ma’am” He whines “I need you so so bad and I–” He sobs and hiccups once, overstimulated from his angry erect clit brushing against the cradle of Moira’s bony hips and the cock fucking in and out of him at a sadistic pace.
Moira always watches him with a scientific eye, intentional with every roll and squeeze into him. And in this, infers his pleas as a green light for harsh, cruel, thrusts — holding Lucio’s waist in her hands for stability.
“So pretty when you cry, little one. '' She purrs over his babbles, pressing the palm of her hand against the base of his stomach. This forces the spongey center of his cunt closer to the impact of her cockhead, making him whine deeper in his throat. She took all of him in at this moment, admiring the way his small chest bounces with every thrust into his slick pussy. Expert hand moves to roll a dark nipple in between her fingers, cradling the soft bit of tissue at the base of his breast. She squeezes.
Barely coherent, it takes Moira a moment to truly figure out what Lucio is saying. He struggles with his words, skipping like a scratched record as the sound catches in his voice box. “Breed me ma’am” He squeals out in his desperate whines, broken and wanting. “Want it suh-so so bad. Want to be bred like a bitch in heat.” Lucio’s lungs hitch with full sobs.
“Oh?” She purrs at him with a smile. The cries fill her chest with a sort of pride, bubbling to the surface with every mean roll of her hips into his aching cunt. As gentle as a lover she had the capacity to be, she was sadistic and calculated to her core. And at this moment, the barbed venom was all Lucio needed. The notion of breeding him, even when lost in a chorus of pleas, sends a ripple of excitement through her. In one smooth calculated motion Moira’s palms slide up behind the back of his thighs and pin them to the sides of his skull. She traps him in the press, eager to stuff him full.
It takes little for Moira’s cock to kiss his cervix, being so deep inside him. Lucio flutters around her, his cunt squeezing down like a vice. “What a precious breeding bitch you are, taking me in so well” Moira purrs as she works him open. “How well will you take my seed, I wonder.” Her well manicured hand slides over his taut stomach. “I look forward to watching you grow fat with pups..” She pinches and rolls his nipples between her fingers as her hips stutter, the torturous act of mating him spurring her on.
The stimulation was enough to make Lucio cry -- and cry he did. Arching his back and choking on his own squeals. He bucks his hips once against Moira in a silent plea, begging and chasing his finish.
“You are not to come without my express permission, a pheata.” She states firmly, the heel of her palm pushing his lower abdomen down onto her dick again. She thrusts once, then twice, then a third time. And as Lucio’s short fingernails dig into the lean muscle in her shoulder blades, she’s coming. Finishing deep inside him and topping up the pinprick opening of his cervix till it spills over onto the sheets below.
“You will take everything I have to give you, and then you will finish.” Moira states matter-of-factly, leaving no room for argument (although there would be little arguing coming from Lucio, anyways). And he’s nodding and babbling and sobbing in agreement.
“Feel so full.” He bawls, feeling Moira’s cock pulse in his stomach. She leans over him, not moving her hips but sliding her palms up his stomach to pull on his nipples with an expert hand.
“Can you imagine how much more full you’ll feel soon, pet? Leaking ichor and stuffed to the brim with life?” She coos at him, her fingers squeezing the base of his areola to attempt to simulate the feeling of getting milked, other hand rubs comforting circles into his belly. Lucio whines, loud and high-pitched in the back of his throat and his pussy soaks through at the thought. He takes a gasping breath as he looks down at her ministrations, so gentle but so cruel.
Moira hums and looks down at him, giving a little experimental thrust. “Do you need me to help you finish taking my seed, little pollywog?”
And he’s squealing, his body involuntarily bucking up to meet her hips. “Yes ma’am. Want to come so bad, I-” He hiccups, looking down where their bodies join. “Want you. Need you-”.
Her hand moves to palm at the junction of her cock and his cunt. “Then take it.” She says with a roll of her hips, fucking spurred on with the want and need to see him unravel further. “That’s a good boy, come now.” And with her permission -- Lucio is screaming. Begging at the air for everything and nothing and all things in between. His hips lifting and twitching in the air as violent orgasm rips through his stomach.
Before long he’s flopping sweaty and panting onto the mattress beneath. With a slick pop Moira is following him, cock slipping out of his cunt easily. They lay there, breathing heavily and catching individual breaths. Eventually Lucio turns and curls into the older woman.
“Mmph.. Thank you, bem” he says, voice small. “Needed that.”
Moira hums and starts tracing circles into the soft skin of his stomach. She peppers kisses against his earlobe and observes his softened features with a kind gaze. “Of course, cub. You did such a good job, you always do” She praises softly. “Do you feel alright?”
Lucio’s humming, a soft noise in the base of his vocal cords. “Feel good” he croaks. “Floaty... sleepy”. He cuddles into her further and shifts where he lies. “Could fuck up a bath right about now” He chuckles, mostly to himself until Moira is scooping him in deceptively strong arms. She cradles him, kissing his face. “Bath it is, then. I’m not letting you go to bed without one.” And as Lucio slips into her, she tuts, but brings him to her bath all the same.
#pomme writes#dacryphilia#breeding cw#cw breeding#tw lactation#cw lactation#nsft#trans nsft#moira ow#lucio ow#moira x lucio#moira x lucio nsft#moira nsft#lucio nsft#nsft fanfic#overwatch nsft#overwatch#overwatch imagines
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3/8/23
The profundities of existence
God, how I hate the complexities of life. I hate how the value of modern human existence is reduced to the amount of work and productivity one can produce. I feel like my body is aching for the moment when I can speak out and bask in the beauty of the world, free of any capitalistic desires. I probably sound like some pretentious leftist liberal arts student right now. I could honestly care less about politics. As a trans woman, I probably should. But I struggle enough with remembering what clothes I have in my closet—working memory and ADHD or what chronically online people call ‘object permanence’–let alone what people are signing into law in Washington DC. But that's really not what I want to talk about right now…
I wish my body could just melt away. I feel so stressed all the time and I don't even know why. I carry an invisible weight on my shoulders. My neck strains and yearns for release. My back aches from lurching over a computer screen, flashing with the lights of pseudo-educational nothingness. My calves are sore at the end of every day from holding a tension I didn't even know existed.
Im constantly looking for a way out. A way to fall away into the void of relaxation.
I want to run away and fall into a field of pink and blue flowers. I want honeybees to brush my cheek as I lie there. Basking in it. Taking in the complete lack of stimulus.
Maybe that's what this is all about.
Forced overstimulation. The modern world–fucking society–is built upon this desire for stimulation in all forms. Everything is moving faster. Social media is full of horrific examples of this. Like explosive cows locked in a cattle car, the internet has become this effective mental sabotage of stimulation. Tik tok, youtube, instagram, snapchat, twitter. They're all littered with videos meant only to ensnare you, draw you in, and trap you with their pretty colors and empty promises of entertainment. And it ruined my brain. Fried it.
I like to say that the internet casts spells.
You open up an app like running your finger against an inscribed glyph and you bear witness to tongues spoken only in these electronic tomes. And they trap you. Influencers are witches. The internet is a coven.
God, I sound schizophrenic. C’est la vie.
I think I believe in a god. Call it the universe. Call it a higher power. I don't care. I like the term ‘God’. It feels good to give it a name. And ‘God’ has such power behind it. It's riddled with over two thousand years of history. People have died for ‘God’. People have devoted their life to ‘God’. I don't think that proves its existence but it sure as hell proves its power.
People seem to have an issue with this God. People seem to take issue when I say I believe in God. I think it’s because they think it's tied to the Judeo-Christian God; this “holy father” who created the universe and gave life to the first humans. To be fair, the God of the Old Testament is fucked up. That guy was crazy. Ruthless even. He sent fires and floods and angels that melted the minds of powerful men. He asked Abraham to sacrifice his son. He wanted to test his creation. Punish humanity for their power. But New Testament God is a little bit nicer. He got Mary pregnant (not necessarily very nice) with the messiah. Jesus was born to take the brunt of all of humanity's sins. He was sacrificed in place of all of mankind. So that was nice I guess. But I don't know how much I believe in this god. This antithetical, all-powerful being. I think my God is much smaller than that. It's more intertwined in existence. I see it in how snowflakes fall so peacefully. I see it in the roots of trees when they pop out of the ground. I see it in my friend’s smile. I see it in myself. I think my idea of god is more connected to the beautifully chaotic randomness of the universe. I believe in beauty. That is my god.
I've been wearing a rosary as of late. The last couple of months I think–since the start of this year at least (it’s the beginning of March as I write this). I think it's tied me more to this idea of divinity. It consumes me. I feel it in my heart. When I get anxious or when I don’t know what to do with my hands ill grab the crucifix hanging from my neck. I already stated that I don't really believe in the Judeo-Christian god but I find the imagery compelling. I see Jesus as this iconographic figure of divinity in humanity. Proof that my idea of God is part of every human being. Jesus acts almost as this symbol, not for the repentance of my sins, but for the little piece of divinity found in each and every one of us. The idea of the crucifix fascinates me. It draws me near. This idea that one's belief in divinity could lead to such torturous violence and that Christianity worships this sacrifice. I'm not saying I don't find his martyrdom honorable, I just think it’s a bizarre figure to make the poignant logo of your belief.
I feel the need to explain my relationship with god to its fullest extent. My beliefs. My doctrine.
I believe in God. A god of beauty. A god of humanity. An energy so powerful that it penetrates everything. God is the detail you find when you look at something–anything. Not just see it but look at it. God is the emotion you feel deep in your stomach whenever you bear witness to something beautiful. I think this God rules everything, embuing it with divinity. It's what makes life worthwhile: searching for the divine. It's there, I promise you. And once you look for it, you'll start to feel it. This godly energy, the holy being that embodies the world around you. The beauty of it all must be purposeful and that’s why I think God exists. The universe needs this ‘higher power’ to imbue itself into the fibers of existence.
This idea of God comes out in everything I do. A divine purpose that makes my life meaningful. This god has given me the ability to see the beauty of the world, to make beautiful things, and to bask in it all. When I sit and read my tarot cards I feel its power, not in the divination of the cards or in the magic of it, but in the very act of doing anything. Because what is divinity if not the power to experience existence? I charge my crystals at night because it's a beautiful thing to do. I sage my room because it gives it a beautiful scent. I walk in the rain because it’s a beautiful experience. I bask in academia and study because that knowledge is beautiful. Everything I do is an act of god. Because it’s beautiful.
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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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You don’t know me, but I think Paz should give Din a little sibling for Grogu if you know what I’m sayin’ 😏
Long overdue, you have no idea how many different responses I attempted for this and eventually I decided less is more
Also I'm combining it with this request
(not omegaverse bc I've learned some people like one but not the other; only Paz is a werewolf here; abridged but likely to be reviewed for actual logic and character once it gets ported to AO3; warnings for trans Din and language like "cunt", undernegotiated consent, cervix penetration, knotting, overstimulation and general gratuity)
Everything is different.
It's a new time (years have passed), a new place (Paz had never been to Tatooine before), and even they are different.
Din used to be private but he had pride, was easy to rile, always down for a fight... and more. But there's something different about the man who leads Paz from that open court of Boba Fett to his temporary lodgings.
Din is muted and his mind is far away as they wind through the dark, cold stone of the palace carved from the bedrock. He is thinner.
"What happened to the child?" Paz asks, the one they all sacrificed so much to save.
Din trembles, falling still on the threshold to Paz's lodgings. His hand curls to a fist on the access panel, visor cast down. Paz's heart clenches, understanding.
He is grateful Din doesn't withdraw from the thick arm that curves around his waist to pull him close, the gentle bump of comfort, helm to helm.
"I'm sorry," Paz murmurs.
"Want some company?" Din asks abruptly, and Paz pretends not to hear the hoarse little choke in his voice.
Paz's fingers curl tighter into the soft give of Din's waist. He would like that, but... Din is not the only one who changed. It's a risky time of the month and he has things he needs to explain....
Din wilts under his hesitation, voice tight and embarrassed. "Forget it."
Paz does not relinquish his arm around Din's waist. "I... some things have changed since I last saw you."
Din stares up at him, accusing. "You bonded to someone."
Paz's throat constricts. "No." It was meant to be you.
"You can't get it up anymore."
He growls at the challenge, interest stirring low in spite. "No." Thankfully nothing else bleeds into the growl and Din doesn't linger on it, though he does study Paz for a tense moment.
"You're unwell," he says, finally.
Paz forgets to breathe. "I'm... " Courage slips from his fingers. "I would be honoured by your company."
Din snorts under his breath and the steel door hisses open. He doesn't wait for Paz, striding inside. "Not looking for your honour tonight."
Paz stares at the long, narrow line of his waist, mouth watering at the memory of gripping fever warm flesh to jerk Din back into the snap of his hips, the hypnotic wave of impact rippling through Din's body.
He locks the door behind them.
The years have not changed everything.
Din still sways into him, blooming under his exploratory touches with languid pleasure, head tilting back to the graze of knuckles at his throat, legs parting around one of Paz's thick thighs. He still expects Paz to undress him and watches silently as the larger Mandalorian kneels before him, reverently slipping Din's boots free, one after another.
Fingers trail along Paz's helm. "Just for tonight?"
Paz swallows thickly at the familiar request, heart giving a traitorous kick of longing. The next step has always been this way, though he had hoped one day....
It was meant to be you. I fucked that up, I know.
He speaks when he knows his voice will be steady, stroking Din's bare thigh. "Tonight."
Din's hands line the chin of his buy'ce. "Mhi solus tome...."
When the oaths are exchanged and their helmets lift free, Paz feels a sense of trepidation of what he'll find in Din's face. Dark, tired eyes look back at him, the same ghost of sadness. More lines crease his face now. He is still one of the most beautiful things Paz has ever set eyes on. Din's mouth curls in the slightest smile.
"These are new," Din traces the ridged scars down Paz's jaw to his shoulder, lighting pinpricks of heat and excitement under the man's skin. "Looks like it should have killed you."
"Nearly did," Paz sighs, shivering with pleasure to have Din's hands on him once again.
"I'm glad it didn't," Din murmurs, expression strange and vulnerable, that soft look heating that stir of interest to a powerful bolt of want, groin tightening, and Paz cannot stall anymore.
Din grunts as Paz surges to his feet, hands under the back of Din's thighs. Those legs close around Paz's waist like the memory from a dream and they have lost none of their strength. Din groans softly into their kiss with relief, want, and Paz has missed this, missed him so much; the weight and shape of Din in his arms, the slight push of resistance that stoked the arousal in his blood, drawing him to grip Din closer, re-learn the texture of his mouth, groaning hotly when Din kisses him deeper, open-mouthed, hands cupping Paz's jaw.
Paz could lose himself in the growing heat of their reunion, but sour notes linger in Din's scent, bitter and stagnant. That heavy weight of grief has gathered in the air around him again.
Their kiss breaks with a wet sound and Paz leans their foreheads together, hands linking under Din's behind to cradle him securely. His chest heaves, catching his breath. "Tell me?"
Din's arms link around his neck. His gaze is wet. He won't meet Paz's eye. "Not tonight."
Paz nods, stifling a sigh. He needs to tell Din his part, though. "I... shouldn't go all the way with you tonight."
Din finally looks up at him and those beautiful, soft eyes harden with judgement. "Don't patronise me, Vizsla."
Oh, he misunderstands. "It's me. Not you."
Din's thighs tighten a fraction around his waist. "You... don't want to?" His hand cups Paz's face, tender. "Is it your illness?"
Oh, cyare. Paz turns his head, pressing a long kiss to Din's palm. "It's not contagious... easily. You won't catch it from me." Paz will never allow it.
Worry is a striking look on Din and it's arresting to be its subject. "But it limits you?"
Oh, how to explain the beast that found Paz on those crossroads those fateful nights ago and the gift he shared? Someone's Paz didn't know if it was truly a gift or a curse.
"I haven't been intimate since..." He was too worried about hurting his partner when the change took over, and had managed by himself ever since. With a lot of difficulty.
"I don't mind," Din says because he's sweet and he thinks Paz is just worried about being out of practice, that maybe he won't satisfy his Beroya (not his, anymore), but it's so much worse than that.
Paz sighs and tries again. "It... does things. To my mind, when I..." He looks away, heat in his cheeks. "A change comes over me, I... I don't want to hurt you."
Din is quiet for a long time, searching his face. Paz can't bring himself to explain further, though it's what Din deserves and he feels like Din can read the horrifying truth in his guilty expression.
"But it's still you?"
"Of course."
"Do you want to hurt me?"
Paz's heart pangs because the last time they were this close, he'd been trying very sincerely to hurt him. He swallows, throat tight with regret. "No. Never again. I'm sorry for--"
Hands squeeze the juncture of shoulder and neck, comforting. "Then don't hurt me." Din's eyes slant with teasing heat, lids heavy. "Not too much."
A growl of want is throttled in Paz's throat, cock hardening behind his armour. Din smirks at the possessive hands Paz curls into his flank, kneading, rolling and pulling Din tighter against him.
"Put me on the table," Din instructs, and Paz obeys. He hums low in his throat, bouncing gently against Paz's clothed cock with every step. "Always handled me so easily." His eyes don't leave Paz's face as he's set down, legs parting for Paz to stay close as they quickly divest themselves of equipment, armour, and flight suits, all shucked to the floor in under a minute by years of expedient practice.
Din pulls him down for a searing kiss, sighing into him, fingers tangling in his hair as Paz gathers Din's thighs over his arms and tugs him to the table's edge. Wet heat glances his cock, and Paz grunts, vision blurring with the sudden wave of need that surges through him. He's shaking with the strength of the urgency to be buried in that soft, wet silk, to feel Din massaging him with his inner muscles, cries of pleasure blending with hurt in Paz's ear. Paz mutters apologies as his hand dives between them, taking himself in hand to line them up, blunt head of his cock slipping over and between those slick, hot folds, and he groans with the abundant evidence that Din wants him even after all this time.
Hands planted behind him, Din arches with a sharp grunt when Paz sinks inside, slow and groaning. Din is so wet, muscles parting around the inexorable press, gripping Paz like a molten, wanton glove; Din squeezes with a belated, anxious noise, and Paz curses, snapping in to the hilt, mind reeling.
Din's helpless yelp of shock lights something in him, and he bares his teeth with a snarl, hands cupping under Din's ass and tilting the man up to him, knees still thrown over Paz's elbows, angling him open to receive.
"Sorry, I'm sorry, I missed you, I just--" he groans into Din's neck where the short curls of his hair are already matting with sweat.
He just needs to remember what it feels like. He withdraws the barest amount, rolls back in hard, Din moans, and Paz shudders, panting, holding them still, hips pressed together so tight he can feel Din's bones.
"Nnnnnngh-- move," Din slurs, and Paz growls, snapping his hips into him once more and pushing so hard against Din it could bruise. Din clenches around him with a little thrilling buck of his hips. His elbows almost buckle behind him. He whines, head lolling. "Move, move, move--"
Paz complies, he's always been helpless to comply, the best at following orders and once he starts, he can't stop.
There is no chance for a slow love-making. That will need to come later.
He bows against Din's body and rails him into that table, pulling Din back into his thrusts when the force of impact rocks him back. There is no escape, no cease.
"Uhn, uhn, uhn-- nnh! Oh m-- fuck--" Din clips to silence, trembling, and grips the tables sides tighter.
Paz would love to bask in the pleasure written in his expression but he can't even keep his eyes open, mouth hanging open on a stream of moans -- pure hunger, blissed relief -- fuelled by Din's clipped gasps and grunts of ecstasy, rocking against Paz, then beneath him as Paz lowers him down to his back, shuddering.
"Nnnnnnnh want to see you come on my cock," he growls, angling, grinding his hips in tight circles, desperate to get deep, deep, deeper. "Want to hear you sloppy and loose as I fuck you through it."
Din growls and spreads his legs wider for it, hands clutching Paz's forearms. "Then you better make me come, Vizsla."
Paz groans, collapsing over him, elbows planting at Din's sides. His boots slide to a wider stance, grounding him. He licks his lips, salivating at the taste of Din's blazing arousal on the air. "Say it-- say it again."
Din's look is almost spiteful, eyes narrowed, pupils dark with lust. His inner muscles squeeze around him, pleading. "Make me come. If you still can."
It's a feeble challenge. Din is trembling hard and they both know he's close. They also both know how Paz gets when he's insulted.
Paz can barely think, his growl rumbling so dark and deep into Din's body, eliciting delighted little shivers, arching up into the hulking frame above him. He wants so bad to fuck Din blind, to make him scream--
"Trying not to hurt you," Paz snarls.
Strong, calloused hands stroke up his shoulder blades, digging in with blunt nails. "Stop trying so hard."
Fine. Fine.
Paz slides out until only the head of his cock remains-- and slams back into that slick sheathe with such punishing force, Din arches up hard beneath him with a keening cry, wild for it.
God. Paz gives in.
Snarling, he leans his weight on his arms and the table shudders, creaking as he throws his strength behind his hips, pounding into Din's body, too fast, too slick, mindless, and Din howls beneath him, chest heaving. He impresses Paz when he just spreads his legs for more, desperate, clinging on, tightening up around Paz's forceful rhythm and it's too soon, Paz isn't ready for it to be over but he can't stop--
Din seizes up with a guttural cry throttled in his throat, legs tight against Paz's sides, shaking and shaking, and it's everything-- Paz can still please him, as it was meant to be, they were meant to belong to each other-- Din clenches and milks him, whimpering and shivering, face buried sweetly in Paz's neck and it's the urge to bury his teeth in Din's neck, in turn, that triggers the change.
It's like a snap of energy through his muscles, as though he touched a live wire and all his muscles electrified with a deadly voltage. Every time, it does feel like a little death... as much as it felt like coming truly alive.
After years, he is accustomed to the snap and break of reforming bone, the tear of muscles growing as they stretch over the extra foot of height the change bestows. Growling and panting, he aches, shoulders growing almost double their breadth as new muscle ripples through his frame and his fingers lengthen to claws by Din's shoulder. The pelt of fur is the last change to emerge but he hardly notices because every part of him is bigger and down below, Din's cunt has tightened to an almost painful grip.
"Aa-aah!" the sharp, startled cry pierces the haze of his transformation.
Din is staring up at him with shocked, watery eyes, hand clutched low on his belly where Paz has transformed inside him, his cock now as thick as Din's calf and stretching him so wide, the lips of his folds are almost white.
The sight of it pitches Paz's growls subsonic in their greed, and he can't stop himself from rolling his hips in, even as anxiety and pain spike in Din's scent.
No, not hurt, never meant to hurt-- unless Din asked for it--
A trembling hand buries in the soft, thick for of his neck. Din's touch is wondering and gentle even as his heart hammers so loud Paz can't ignore it.
"It's still you?" Din asks.
Paz whines in apology, nuzzling that hand, and Din recognises the gesture, a whoosh of relieved hair sighing out of him. The anxiety leaks from his scent, his muscles relax, and Paz has to wonder how many inhumans Din has fucked before. How many as big as him.
Inside Din's cunt, Paz is still throbbing and bearing him cruelly wide, his mind reels with the euphoria of Din here at last, beautiful, receptive, and scent soaking with satisfaction but Paz is so much bigger now and Din is impossibly tight, it's barreling Paz towards insanity, it feels so good, too good.
"You can," Din says, and Paz realises he was whining, high and distressed, like an animal, the wolf of his core now bared, pathetic, undeserving. Din's gaze is so heavy, drowning beneath the sensations of his body, he can barely keep his eyes open. He pulls Paz down to bury his face in the crown of fur between his ears which now stand tall and flick back, alert. The kiss feels like a blessing... or forgiveness.
Din moans, long and shivering, as he lifts his legs, feet planting as wide as the table will allow. A pant of relief escapes him as he tilts his hips up, easing the pressure. "Do it."
Paz is helpless to refuse.
Din cries as that monstrous cock ploughs into him, deep, coring thrusts that drive trails of slick and cum from his hole under every push, slow and shallow at first; the way is so wet and Din is such a wonder, rocking back and forth on that table, rippling wider around him, Paz sinking deeper and deeper, his head flicking with a shuddery snap of lust, ears press back, and all too soon he's sunk almost to the root.
Din gasps, thighs hitching wide. "Nnngh, it's so big, so-- oh, f-fuck you, fuck you," he stammers, writhing beneath him, mad. Furious with Paz, furious with lust, everything in his scent screaming out for Paz to take him, claim him, breed--
Roaring, Paz grabs the table's sides and plants his clawed feet, towering large enough to straddle the table and pin Din's thighs to his chest with nothing more than the breadth of his own bulk. Din turns his face to gasp for air from the smother of Paz's immense, muscled belly as he's bared open in the mating press, cunt to the ceiling and knees almost to his ears. His gasp hitches and his hands lash out again for the anchor of the table's edge as Paz lowers against him, sinking back inside.
Din moans like Paz has never heard before, eyes rolling back in his head, neck arching. Inside, he moulds to Paz's immense girth like he was made for it and Paz sinks so deep, he encounters the fleshy barrier at the furthest reach of his cunt. Sounds of overstimulation are ground between Din's teeth, grunted, babbling, then Paz makes sense of the least.
"Do it."
Paz's strength as a human was already formidable but the power of his hybrid wolf form, towering on two legs, is downright dangerous. Din takes it all.
Screaming, Din clings onto the table, knuckles white as Paz fucks him, hard and fast and mean, hips drilling straight down as though he could plunge right through and nail Din open for him forever, wet and sobbing, primed to receive. Paz's claws carve against the stone table top as Din's blissful little hole swallows him over and over, flesh slapping, soft thighs splayed in helpless ecstasy.
Paz snarls as Din's scent spikes with need again, the sloshing squelch of his cunt ringing in his ears, Paz wants more, more, his own need spiking, muscles coiling hard behind his cock. He slams in deep and presses their hips together brutally hard, unable to withdraw as the desperation to rut overtakes him.
Din spasms around him-- did he come again? It's so hard to tell, he's so tight and his teary sobs haven't stopped-- Paz howls and snaps his hips back and forth, not allowing their hips to separate an inch as he takes and takes and takes-- vicious growl thrumming in his chest-- pounding deeper and faster, wet slap slap slap ringing through his lodgings-- maintains the furious pace for blistering minutes, head thrown back, panting, a mere beast reduced to take and rut and breed-- Din's screams and wails choke beneath him, barely able to gasp for breath, body rocking with every brutal slam inside, face wet with tears, clawing and clinging at Paz's fur as his cunt fills and strains around that cock, ruthlessly battering the fleshy barrier to his womb.
"P-Paz... pl-- uhn, please--"
With a frustrated snarl, Paz heaves Din's hips up to rest his weight on his shoulders, cunt high and vulnerable. Almost immediately, the muscles of Din's cunt shift-- yes, this is a much better-- he withdraws and ploughs in from the new sharp angle, roaring when the head of his cock at last passes through Din's cervix to his most private, sacred part.
It was meant to be the two of them, they would have started their own clan... But they could always start now.
Crowded over Din's small body on that table, Paz pounds into his hole for all he's worth, watching Din's expression frozen with euphoric, broken awe, shaking all over as his lover's blissful violence claims him utterly, strings of past release sloshing free with every withdrawal of Paz's cock and splattering across his groin, chest and face. It is a shame to waste, Din would need to retain as much as possible to make sure the breeding took, to get him nice and swollen with their own child so that grief in his scent might finally abate.
Slamming deep one final time, Paz throws his head back and roars his release, hips surging with every pump of seed directly into Din's womb and the mental image of fucking Din even while he is with their child, fucking Din so he'll never walk straight again, always pregnant, never a moment off his cock. The orgasm lasts for long, exquisite pulses and he snarls through it, keening with the swell of his knot, locking them together and snapping Din's eyes open from his fucked out fugue, panicked.
"Wh-wha--" he lurches, hands flying to his groin protectively where Paz's cock already bulges through his skin, breath gulping as Paz swells and swells. "Aah-- a--aahn!"
Incredulous, Paz stares as Din seizes up again, thighs jerking with a wet, searing burst of release around his knot, that's so hot, the high pressure of the jet enough to make his gut tighten all over again.
He's not done.
At some point, Din grows still beneath him, overstimulated to the point of passing out.
Din whimpers as he's collapsed down to his back, thighs falling open and Paz plants clawed paws above his shoulders to anchor him in place. Crouched over him, hissing and snarling beyond his senses, Paz pounds into that willing hole-- or at least tries to, convinced he can get deeper-- tied together as they are. He only succeeds in shoving against Din's body where they're already stuck, hip to hip, growling at Din's high, sobbing squeals of pain confused pleasure and the brain-melting pressure around his knot driving his orgasm to even greater heights. The sounds coming from Din's cunt are obscene, sloppy and aggressive. Paz doesn't let up for long minutes even when it starts to hurt, grunting and slamming his hips in, in, in as he chases the last of his release, spilling deep and rounding Din's belly with their cum.
At last, Paz falls still, chest heaving for breath, muscles burning, and he soaks in the victory of Din's scent drenched in utter satisfaction. Sinking down against him, he pulls their bodies flush with arms beneath him, muzzle burying in Din's neck.
A trace of that bitter grief remains. It will rise again. But next time, Paz will be there to greet it.
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-The Ritual-
-Incubus!Minho + BestFriend!Jeongin x fem!Reader-
Warnings: themes of jealousy, occults and demons, unprotected sex, minho has a huge cock, face fucking, sir kink, cunnilingus, 69, anal penetration, creampie, a little cumplay, a little overstimulation, a lil finger blood for ze ritual~ etc.
Word Count: 5.2k (I got a little carried away...this is the smuttiest thing I’ve written in a while hhhhhh-)
Disclaimer: This scene is entirely consensual. Minho’s powers do have the ability to make you incredibly aroused, but it can’t force you to do anything against your wishes.
"Have you got everything?" You whispered, making the boy next to you jump in shock.
"Y/n! For God's sake, you scared the fuck out of me-"
"Yeah, yeah." You rolled your eyes at Jeongin, who went back to perusing the library shelf with a small huff.
"Did you get everything?" You repeated insistently, following as Jeongin moved away from you, walking over to another shelf. He glared at you, sighing.
"Did you-"
"Shut up!" He scowled, looking away from you to grab another book from the shelf.
A few seconds of prolonged silence passed as Jeongin turned to look at you, sighing when he saw your bottom lip quivering.
"I'm sorry." You mumbled.
"Y/n- no, it's okay. Next time, don't sneak up on me like that..." he sighed. "I've just got so much work on my plate. It's so frustrating...and I took that frustration out on you. Sorry."
You pressed your lips together, nodding and looking away. He sighed, moving a little closer, hand hovering over your shoulder before hesitantly coming down.
"I'll come over at 10, okay? We'll do this." He said, trying to feign enthusiasm. You shoved his hand off your shoulder, shaking your head.
"I know you're not as into this as I am. I just thought...as my best friend, you'd want to do something fun with me. But if you'd much rather spend the night with your nose buried in a textbook, I won't stop you."
Jeongin smiled, that wide smile of his that affected you in a way you couldn't quite describe.
"Summoning a demon in your college dorm at midnight isn't exactly what the average individual would call fun, Y/N."
"You've always known I'm not the average individual." You winked. "Right...I'm going to let you study now. See you tonight! Don't forget-"
"Candles, rose petals and wine. Got it."
You grinned, waving as you walked away, a slight bounce in your step. Jeongin watched as you left, fondly shaking his head as he turned back to the shelf.
***
As the doorbell rang, you jumped off your bed and rushed to the door, opening it with a wide smile. "Jeonginnieee!~ Did you bring snacks?"
He nodded, struggling with the amount of packages he was holding. "Yes, along with the things for the ritual- shit, can I have some help here?"
You giggled, grabbing the plastic bag and one of the packages from his hand. You stared at the wine bottle in his hand pointedly.
"One of my friends got this for me. Don't ask who. It's a super cheap brand and I think it's half drunk already but-"
"It'll do." You interrupted, smiling as you suddenly pulled him down and pressed a kiss to his cheek. Jeongin's grip on the bottle tightened as his brain filled with sparks- the contact of your lips against his skin sending electricity shooting through his chest.
"You're the best best friend I could ask for. Thank you for getting everything."
Jeongin nodded nonchalantly, scratching his neck as he set the bottle and another package on the counter.
"Hey, the ritual needs to take place at midnight. We have like, 2 hours till then. Wanna watch a movie or something?"
"Why else do you think I brought snacks?" He laughed, opening the plastic bag and throwing a large packet of chips to you, that you caught with ease. Grabbing two cans of soda and a bag of candy, the two of you made your way to the couch.
"Let's watch a horror movie? To get us in the spirit?"
"Sure." Jeongin commented, ripping open the packet as he sat on the floor and leaned against the couch. You smiled, popping a CD into the DVD player and crawling back over to Jeongin, cuddling close to him.
Jeongin gulped as you wrapped your arms around him. Your proximity was making him sweat, and he discreetly wiped away a drop of perspiration from his forehead. Over the years, you'd think that he would get used to your touchiness...but he just never did.
Nearly an hour later, you fell asleep halfway through the movie. Jeongin sighed, patting your hair as you slept, watching the rest of the horrid movie by himself. When a particularly silly scene came on screen, he wished you were awake so he could criticize it with you. His eyes drifted to the clock, eyes widening as he realized the time.
He poked your shoulder insistently. "Fuck, Y/n, get up...the ritual needs to take place soon, and we haven't set everything up yet-"
You blinked slowly, looking at him in confusion. "Hmm? Oh-"
You pushed him away, jumping up to your feet. "Shit, let's get the things ready, quick-"
He sighed, standing up slowly as you ran to the packages on the counter, unwrapping everything. He watched as you jumped around in your hurry, chuckling to himself.
Man, she's really into this.
Jeongin thought about it for a few seconds, sighing as he decided to show a little more enthusiasm...after all, you were his best friend...you always listened so patiently whenever he talked about his interests.
He made up his mind. He'd put a little more effort into-
"What are you standing there for? Help!!"
He smiled at you, shaking his head, moving closer and helping you take out the things you needed.
***
Jeongin sat on your bed, watching as you tweaked some final touches here and there.
The silk had been laid out on the floor, all the lights were off. The room was illuminated in a warm, ochre glow, thanks to the numerous candles that had been lit and placed everywhere in the room.
You made sure the rose petals were scattered properly, pouring just a little more wine into the single glass in the middle of the pentagram you'd made with the red yarn you'd found on sale in the crafts shop.
Sitting up, you rubbed your forehead as you went over to the windowsill, relighting one of the candles that had snuffed out.
"15 minutes." Jeongin reminded as you nodded. "Okay...we're ready."
You sat down in front of the pentagram, breathing heavily in anticipation. Jeongin watched from his perch on your bed...He knew nothing out of the ordinary was going to happen tonight...unless a candle knocked over and set fire to the whole building. However, as he watched you bite your bottom lip in worry, he almost hoped you wouldn't be disappointed...that something out of the blue would happen.
Oh, if only he knew.
"So...say we do manage to summon a demon. Exactly how would this benefit us?"
"Good question." You pointed to the big book in front of you. You'd bought the huge tome from an occults shop down the block...it had been expensive, and you'd gone a few days without breakfast...but it was worth it.
You read out the paragraph to Jeongin, and he nodded, chewing on his lip as he listened. When you were done, he sighed, moving onto the floor next to you.
"So, basically...like a genie? The demon will give us 3 wishes?"
"Eh. Genies don't exist. Also...they're not exactly wishes, more like...favours? I think? He'll ask us to repay them at a later date."
Jeongin rolled his eyes. "And nothing sounds fishy about that? Nothing? I'm not sure I want to be indebted to a demon..."
"Eh, it'll be fine. We've got to start. Okay, everything's ready...now, it says that the person who conducts the ritual needs to mix in a drop of their blood with the wine, and then drink it."
Jeongin wrinkled his nose. "Eww. Y/n, come on..."
"What? It says it right here in on the book. It's just a tiny drop of blood, Jeongin. No big deal."
"Are you sure...?"
"Yep. Okay so after that, we just need to chant this phrase three times, blow out the innermost circle of candles and voila! Our very own demon, here to do our bidding."
"F-fine."
You smiled at him, glancing up at the clock on the wall and swearing under your breath. "Fuck, it's time...Okay, let's begin."
You scrambled around with one hand, finding the pocket knife and hovering it over your fingertip. Biting your lip, you slowly sliced your skin open, letting a tiny drop of blood fall into the wine glass below. Jeongin quickly got up, grabbing a box of band-aids from the bedside table and handing it to you. You glared at him for interrupting you, but sighed and let him wrap your finger up anyway.
Wrenching your hand away once he was done, you glanced at the clock once again before lifting the glass to your lips.
The wine flowed down your throat, the taste bitter and potent. You coughed once as you set it down, your eyes going over to the paragraph.
"Recipienti pignori obligo animam meam, et non sunt daemonium...et quod summoneret eum cum sanguine."
You repeated it thirteen times, and then glanced at the clock again. One more second...
12:00.
You blew out the candles quickly, the entire circle snuffed out before it became 12:01.
You sat back, panting as the plumes of smoke danced around in the air. A minute passed by, then two.
Nothing happened.
A small sigh left you. You turned to Jeongin. The boy gave you a sympathetic smile, pulling you into his side and patting your shoulder. "It's o-"
He was interrupted by someone clearing their throat. The two of you turned around so fast you almost got whiplash...but there was nothing. Just smoke.
Wait...a lot of smoke. You frowned slowly as the candles kept releasing more and more of it, until there was far too much. The curlicues of smoke twirled in the air, fogging your vision as it slowly started forming into a figure.
A figure with horns.
You quickly buried your face into Jeongin's chest, your heart beating fast. No way. No way it actually worked. This had to be a dream...right?
The way Jeongin shivered slightly beneath you proved otherwise. No. It all felt too real.
You looked up slowly, swallowing.
He was still there.
A man...he was clad in a suit, his tie loosened, sleeves rolled up and shirt unbuttoned all the way to his torso. His black hair was slicked back, exposing his forehead, and his nose was sharp...
Perhaps the most notable of it all were his eyes. They were almost catlike and shone with a crimson glow.
Oh...that and the horns. Huge, blood-red horns that jutted out from his head.
His gaze was filled with scrutiny as he coolly stood there with his hands in his pockets, raising an eyebrow at the two of you, cowering on the floor.
"Did the pretty one here summon me?" He asked after a few minutes of silence, a small smirk on his face as his eyes roved over the silk and rose petals on the floor.
You gulped, pulling away from Jeongin a little more, but the boy didn't relax his grip on you. "Y-yes."
He nodded. "Thought so. I was actually extremely busy...but I could sense you were a cute one. I don't mind bending the rules a little for mortals like you." You noticed how he was only looking at you, completely ignoring Jeongin.
He looked around, going over to the armchair next to your bed and reclining on it, his stance reminiscent of a king's as he placed his chin on his hand, looking down at the two of you.
"Hmm, go on with it then. Why are you still fully clothed?" He asked, hand coming down over the straining bulge in his pants.
Jeongin frowned, looking over at you in confusion that mirrored yours. What the fuck?
"I'm s-sorry? I thought...it doesn't mention that I have to be naked in the book here-"
He rolled his eyes, still palming himself. "Whatever. If you prefer being clothed, that's fine. Let's just get this over with, okay doll? Come here."
"I'm c-confused-"
He tilted his head. "Why? You want your wishes granted, right?"
"Yeah-"
"Exactly. There are certain things I require as payment for those, you know." He meaningfully looked down at his bulge, and then back up at you again.
Your eyes slowly widened in outrage. "Wait...what the fuck??" Jeongin's mouth slowly opened in disbelief as you shook your head vehemently. "No. Nope. No way. I'm not going to let a demon fuck m-'
He shook his head, chuckling. "Darling, how else would an incubus such as myself grant your wish?"
"Pardon!?"
"We draw our powers from sexual energy-"
"I never-" You looked back at the book, scanning the paragraph over and over again. "I- it says nothing here about incubuses-"
"Incubi. And of course it doesn't. It's common knowledge that all wish-granting demons are incubi."
Jeongin shook his head, deciding he'd heard enough. He worked up his courage, trying to pretend like he wasn't intimidated by the actual demon that was in his best friend's bedroom.
"Look here, Sir- you can't just have sex with her. We must have missed the part where it said you were an...an incubus. Just go back where you came from."
The demon frowned slowly, his eyes finally landing on Jeongin. There was a questioning look in his eyes.
"Oh. I hadn't noticed the boy here." He sniffed the air, shaking his head. "His blood isn't involved in the ritual...must be why I couldn't see him properly till now." He mused, almost to himself as you looked at Jeongin, the two of you sharing a look filled with fear and bafflement.
"It doesn't work that way, unfortunately, boy. I came here...and sadly, I cannot leave Earth until my purpose is satisfied and 3 boons are granted."
You shivered, wondering what the hell you had gotten into. The demon noticed your discomfort and sighed, inspecting his fingernails.
"Look. I don't care if you have sex with me or not, although it wouldn't hurt to have my way with a pretty little kitten like you. All I need is sexual energy, so just fuck your friend here. I don't care."
It took a minute for the two of you to process what he had just said. He felt embarrassment fill him from head to toe as he buried his head in his hands, unable to look you in the eye.
However...you were starting to feel something quite different. The air was heavy and thick with a scent that was melting your inhibitions away, one by one. You felt arousal grow in your core, amplifying to the point where you let out a soft whimper, unable to control yourself anymore.
You looked up slowly, gulping as you noticed the demon's eyes on you. He was smirking, a malicious one that was trained on you. His aura was driving itself into your brain, making you weaker and weaker in his presence.
"What...what are you doing to m-me?" You choked out, trailing off into a moan as you felt another sharp burst of pleasure.
"Hm? I'm not doing anything, little kitty. I'm just here, existing."
You felt your brain grow mushy as your neediness grew.
He was an incubus, and you were chained to him with a blood link, thanks to the ritual. His pure sexual energy was merely too much for your human brain, and as the seconds passed by, you were closer to giving up.
Jeongin watched with horror in his eyes as you closed your eyes tightly, trying not to breathe in the contaminated air. However, as you felt another ribbon of ecstatic pleasure shoot through you, you finally snapped.
Whimpering like a bitch in heat, you crawled across the floor as the demon spread his thighs to accommodate you. He smirked at your needy form that looked up at him with wide, blown-out eyes, on your knees.
"Good girl." He ruffled your hair, chuckling as you ate up the praise, scrambling to unzip his pants. You managed to take his cock out finally, after a few minutes of fumbling.
He was big. Too big. His cock was redder than a human's, and almost angry looking.
Mouth-watering.
"What are you waiting for? Cat got your tongue?" He cooed, grabbing a handful of your hair as he held his cock with his other hand.
You moaned, opening your mouth and staring up at him. He groaned, the innocence on your face entrancing him as he shoved you onto his length, your tiny mouth engulfed with his huge cock.
Spluttering, you felt tears spring to your eyes as he slid impossibly far down your throat. He groaned and threw his head back. The sight of you with your mouth stuffed full, your throat bulging with his cock...it was threatening to drive him insane.
Meanwhile, Jeongin could hardly believe what he was witnessing. He was frozen in place, unable to move even an inch as the shock filled every inch of his brain. The demon looked up at him, his grip on your hair relentless as he slowly started fucking your throat, so deep you could barely breathe.
"Like what you see, boy? Your girl's little throat mercilessly fucked by a demon? Tsk. How spineless."
Jeongin felt the slightest bit of anger rush into him. Somehow, the demon's presence was amplifying his feelings, making him even angrier as he continued using your throat as a fucktoy.
"S-stop."
"Hm? Why should I?" He paused, pulling you off his cock roughly, your mouth dripping with saliva and pre-cum. "Do you want me to stop?"
"No, Sir. Please, please use me!" You begged, eagerly moving forward to take him into your mouth again.
The demon looked back up at Jeongin, evil grin reappearing.
Jeongin clenched his fists, hating how weak he felt. The sight of you on your knees, sucking off this, this impossibly hot demonic man, was putting a bad taste in his mouth.
"Sir, just...you have to, stop-"
The demon wrinkled his lips, shaking his head. "My name is Minho, boy. I don't own you, so I don't expect you to treat me with respect...although you will, if you know what's good for you." He tutted, looking down at you again and holding you down on him harshly, your nose pressed to his skin.
"This kitten here does, though. The little ritual she did binds her to me for life."
"You can't- you can't just do that. You can't just take ownership of someone against their will-"
"It's not against her will. She's the one who carried out the ritual, may I remind you. I'm not forcing her to do anything." He lifted a finger in the air lazily, and somehow you found your body changing position, hands slipping off his lap and settling on the floor. Now you were on all fours, lips still wrapped around him as he bucked his hips up.
"The air stinks of jealousy. May I remind you that Envy is one of the deadly sins, little boy?"
Jeongin didn't know what to say any more. He felt utterly helpless, out of place. His feelings were all muddled, and he didn't feel like himself. Sweat was gathering on his brow as Minho eased his grip on your hair, slowing down a little and letting you control the pace. He lifted his finger again, waving it in a tight circle...The energy in the room shifted even more as your skirt slowly lifted up, exposing your ass to Jeongin's eyes.
It was becoming harder to hide the straining bulge in his pants.
You whined softly as Minho pulled out of you, fingers holding your chin as he observed your wrecked face carefully. "What a good kitten. Now, I think this little boyfriend of yours is enjoying the show too much." Minho looked up, his gaze directed at Jeongin's bulge.
"Wouldn't it be mean to make him watch and leave him out of this, kitty?" He asked, mock sympathy on his face as he waved his finger again, making your panties and shirt disappear in less than a millisecond.
You let out a soft yelp, feeling slightly humiliated. It turned you on more, as you realized you were now completely naked except for your skirt and socks. "Yeah, Sir, whatever you say." You let out a sigh and rested your chin on his thigh. "Want Jeonginnie to join too~" you mumbled.
Jeongin gulped, hating the way even more blood rushed south at the sight of you half-naked and on all fours. Now, he had a clear view of your glistening pussy as well as your puckered rim. He licked his lips subtly, all his emotions conflicted as he found himself moving closer.
"Y/n...you really want this?" He asked softly, stopping a few centimetres away.
You turned around to look at him. "Yeah...please..." You pouted. The expression on your face was so needy that Jeongin couldn't help but cave. Besides, now that he was closer to Minho, the aura he was emitting was starting to affect him as well. And that meant he could feel his arousal grow at a fast rate, his cock painfully caged in his pants.
Minho leaned down a little to pick you off the floor. His suit jacket and shirt disappeared, leaving him shirtless as he settled you on his lap, facing Jeongin as he spread your legs.
Hands on your waist, Minho nosed at the back of your neck as he lined your entrance up with his tip. Your eyes were focused on Jeongin, senses clogged with ardor as Minho slowly lowered you onto his cock. The wetness gushing out of you made it a little easier for him to slip in, however his size was still stretching you out to the point where it was borderline painful.
You felt the tears flow down your face freely, as Minho finally managed to push the last few inches in, his entire girth sheathed in you. He was as thick as he was long, and your pussy accommodated him desperately, aching.
He grunted, wrapping his arms around your waist. "Too fuck- fucking tight, princess-" He groaned, starting to fuck you on his cock slowly, his strokes roughly trying to open up your pussy.
Jeongin couldn't remember exactly when he'd taken his cock out...but his hands were wrapped around it, stroking slowly as his hooded eyes watched you bounce on the demon's cock. Minho used one hand to gather your skirt up, exposing the spot where you two were connected to Jeongin.
Jealousy, arousal, fear, shock and anger...it all melted together in his brain as he let his dark side take over, slowly. He knew it was because he was in close quarters with an incubus- the raw sexual energy was too much for his human brain to process healthily...it still felt so wrong.
"You want to fuck her, don't you? What are you standing there for, then?" Minho groaned, as he continued plunging his cock into you.
You whined loudly as Minho's tip hit your sweet spot roughly. "Jeongin- want jeong-" You tripped over your words as Minho fucked you dumb.
"P-please, Jeonginnieeee~ Want you in me!" You begged, one arm reaching behind you to wrap around Minho's neck as his hands came up to cup your boobs.
Minho looked up from kissing your neck, red eyes trained on the boy. "You heard her."
He sure did. As the last shred of apprehension faded away, Jeongin couldn't bring himself to care any more. In a few long strides, he was right in front of you.
He let go of you, as Jeongin pulled you downward, so that your face was level with his cock. Minho's grip on your hips was tight, making sure you didn't fall as you tried to steady yourself by placing your hands on Jeongin's thighs.
His thumb swiped across your bottom lip as he stared at you with hungry eyes, before he slipped it in. You started sucking on it eagerly, making the boy above you chuckle.
He pulled his thumb out, prompting a whine from you- but quickly, it was replaced with the head of his cock as he pressed it against your parted lips, taking him in.
Jeongin's cock, despite being much smaller than Minho's, was above average for a human, and it still filled up your mouth deliciously. You felt him dive deep into your throat as he tangled both of his hands in your hair, using that as leverage to fuck into your mouth harder.
"Good boy..."
"Don't call me that." Jeongin spat, his anger building up. He took out his frustration on you, fucking your mouth harsher than Minho had. The combination of two cocks in you turned you on more than ever, and soon enough, you came as you blubbered incoherencies, clenching tightly around Minho.
A few thrusts later, Jeongin felt his high approach. Not wanting to cum yet, he pulled out quickly. You looked up at him, looking so fucked out, absolutely heavenly. How ironic.
He needed you. He'd never felt any emotion this intense before. Gritting his teeth, Jeongin pulled you off Minho, throwing you onto the bed with a grunt. You stared up at him in shock, looking to the right at Minho.
The demon let out a low chuckle, settling himself comfortably in his chair as he propped his chin up with one hand, the other jerking himself off.
Jeongin couldn't look at you. He avoided eye contact, knowing he'd go completely insane if he looked at you.
Roughly spreading your thighs, he leaned down to take your clit between his teeth. You let out a moan, throwing your head back as he shoved his tongue between your folds, groaning at the taste. He kissed and sucked all over your pussy, heart beating a little too fast. His fingers came up to rub at your clit as he shallowly fucked his tongue into your entrance.
Minho slowly stood up, tired of standing to the side. Gently, he shoved Jeongin to the side. The latter growled in frustration, but stopped as Minho lay down on the bed. You quickly understood, his power influencing you to comprehend what he wanted you to do.
You climbed onto Minho backwards, his cock in front of your face. You kissed up his length immediately, lips wrapping around his tip as you felt him grab your ass, pulling you so your pussy made contact with his tongue.
He pulled away for a second. "Go ahead and fuck her ass, it's a lot tighter than her pussy." He said, knowing how roughly he'd fucked you just a while ago.
Jeongin couldn't care less. He just wanted to be in you, as quick as possible. As he led his cock to your ass, he gulped. This was not how he'd expected the night to go.
He spat on your winking pucker, pushing in shortly after. You were so consumed with passion that it barely hurt, even when he started thrusting roughly. The pleasure set you ablaze, the combination of Minho's lips wrapped around your clit and Jeongin's dick deep inside your ass tantalizingly unreal. You couldn't think straight.
Minho put his hands under you, spreading your ass cheeks, making Jeongin groan. You felt his tongue making its way into your pussy, making you moan around his cock.
The room was filled with sounds of skin slapping skin, as well as the groans of the two men fucking you.
Jeongin had imagined having sex with you before. This was definitely not how he'd ever expected it to go. He'd thought of asking you out, taking you on dates, kissing your face and lips softly...yet here he was now, fucking your ass demonically.
You purred as you felt his cock twitch inside you, starting to suck on Minho's cock harder. He tasted so different, almost addicting. You were driven with an intense need to taste his cum, kitten-licking his slit to try and get him to orgasm.
You whined as Minho used his grip on your ass to drag your pussy over his mouth. The sound was so beautiful, driving Jeongin closer to his high. Before he knew it, he was fucking into you faster than before, intent on filling you up. In seconds, he came with a grunt, filling you up perfectly with his seed.
As he came down from his high, he regained some of his sensibility. He felt self-loathing fill him, hating what he'd just done.
Jeongin watched as Minho ate you out roughly, his grip so tight on your ass that it was sure to leave future bruises.
As the demon sucked on your clit, you felt yourself shake, whimpering around his length as another orgasm washed over you, clenching around Jeongin's cock that was still inside you. The overstimulation made him bite his lip and pull out, watching as a drop of his cum leaked out of you. Using his finger, he gathered it up and pushed it back into your hole gently.
Your continuous moans were sending vibrations down Minho's length, and soon he was fucking up into your mouth, chasing his high. He came after a particularly rough thrust, filling up your mouth with so much cum that it leaked out of the corners of your mouth.
Jeongin sat back as Minho pushed you off of him slowly, propping you up on the bed. Weakly, you closed your eyes, collapsing against the pillow. All the strength had been zapped out of you, and you fell asleep quickly.
Minho noticed Jeongin's worried expression, chuckling. "She just got fucked by a demon and her best friend. She'll be okay after some rest." He said, running a hand through his sweaty hair.
"I...don't like this. She's never going to look at me the same way ever again. I've failed her as a best friend-"
"Woah, stop right there. She wanted it. She was practically begging for you."
"Well our friendship's never going to be the same after this, and I blame you." He said, glaring at the demon, who put up his hands in defense.
"Look. You two summoned me, I came, I did my job."
Minho lazily leaned back next to you, as you slumped, resting your head in his lap as you snored. He chuckled, and stroked your hair as if you were a cat.
"I could get used to living here."
"What?!"
"Once I'm on Earth, I can't leave until I've satisfied my client's wishes. And I can tell the two of you are going to be...hard to satisfy. I'm going to be here for a while." He smirked.
Jeongin tried not to let the jealousy show on his face. He hated the idea.
"You're in love with her...aren't you?"
Jeongin's eyes widened as he stared up at the demon whose eyes had softened.
"I see the way you look at her. How protective you were of her." He sighed. "I'm a sex demon...love isn't my specialty. But...I know a few things about passion. You can't give up."
"That's easy for you to say." Jeongin groaned. Here he was, taking advice from a hellsent demon. What had his life come to?
"Anyway, I'll be spending a lot of time around here, so you'd better get used to this, boy."
"Jeongin." He looked up. "That's my name."
Minho grinned. "I'll keep that in mind."
He sighed, looking at you as you exhaled in your sleep, heart clenching with fondness. He couldn't believe the situation you'd gotten the both of them into...but somewhere deep down inside, he didn't regret anything that had happened.
Sometimes, being the responsible, mature one in your friendship was a challenging job..but he wouldn't trade it for the world.
#minho smut#lee know smut#jeongin smut#jeongin fluff#jeongin angst#minho angst#lee know angst#skz smut#kpop smut#stray kids smut#i.n smut#minho fluff#lee know fluff#lee minho smut#lee minho angst#skz angst#skz fluff#stray kids angst#stray kids fluff
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Ahh alright then, thank you 🙏🏻
Then could I please get Nsfw alphabet (season 4) Floch Forster A, B, D, E, F, I, N, O, S and W with a fem s/o please
Author note : To be honest I was actually excited to work on that, because I barely got the chance to work for Floch. Despite what people might think I find him quite interesting and yet so difficult to understand. I hope it won’t be too OOC, I really take time to read couple of chapters just to see how he is behaving toward people.
Warning : Obviously NSFW / Everyone is aged up / Floch being dirty / Fem reader. It might contain degradation kink, spit etc.
Disclaimer : I know some Aot’s fan are not quite found of Floch which I can understand but don’t bully me or anyone for writing them and I won’t tolerate people shaming my anon for requesting something for Floch.
I tried to find a good picture of him I'm sorry
Masterlist
A - Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
Well he is neither the best nor the worst. Obviously he won’t let you in your mess, but he won’t be the one to massage your legs too. He is just too cope in the moment. Things being said, if you’re feeling too sore after your session he wouldn’t mind cleaning you up and bringing you some water or foods if you feel like this. Definitely would crack a joke or two and might praise himself, especially if you’re feeling sore.
One thing he really loves, is to chill on his bed with you on hist chest. Cliche or not, he really enjoy having you close to him right after having sex with you. So it won’t be a surprise that after getting clean have a drink together he will prepare the bed. And if after your bath you’re still feel weak or anything, he might take things in own hands he would either massage your sore body or will look after something to heal the pain away.
B - Body Part ( their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
When Floch likes something, he won’t be afraid to tell you so. It won’t be a surprised for you, when you felt a hand on your ass stroking it as you two were waking together. He is absolutely in love with your legs and ass your hips too, there something about the way you move your hips when you’re walking that never feel to make him hard. Of course he would definitely say it casually, like one second you two might be talking about titans or political subjects and you would move softy and then he would straightly tell you « damn you look good with those pants you should wear more often ». This attitude of his never changed even after Shinganshima event. He even became more dirty with you. When he used to brush his hand against your thigh when you were eating together, he nows put his hand closer to where you wanted to without getting close enough, his thumb would caress very softy the inner of your thigh, sometimes he would be fine by just grab your thigh. When he used to put a hand or your ass when you were talking to someone, he knows grab it firmly or slap it. He enjoy seeing you getting flustered and he enjoys even more seeing the decomposer of the poor guy who thought it was a good idea to hit on you.
When it came to him, he is pretty proud of his arm and tone chest. He is pretty well-build and he knows that it can be impressive, he also tends to love the fact the his whole chest can cover your body whether you’re below him or when you two just hug. Also he loves his biceps because when he got Wilde on you, it’s a part of his body with his shoulder and back where you tends to scratch the most. He works hard for his body so he except you to thank him by worship him. Everytime he felt you hug one of his arm or just feel your hand on his hand as you were grabbing his arm muscle it never felt to stroke his ego, he knows you love his arm as much as he loves them.
D - Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
He is always claiming that he is whole dom in bed, well in a way he isn’t wrong. When he wants to dominate you he won’t be afraid to put matters in his own hand much to your pleasure, but there’s time when he is too needy to dominate you and each tome he got all pooty on your hand expecting you to taking care of him. When he is on the mood, you might be able to be on the top the whole time and he won’t mind at all, getting all flustered, a mess because of you is something he enjoy even if he claimed after that he was just testing the water. All you have to do is to reminds him that testing the water didn’t involve him getting you all cream pie because he came a lot, multiple time.
Despite enjoying to edge you until you’re crying for mercy, he really and I mean REALLY enjoy when you’re the one that edging him, it’s even better when you decided to give him what you he wants but instead of letting cum once you actually overstimulate him. Do it until he’ll cry, you might think that you broke his ego or something but no don’t worry about it. He is switch, he doesn’t want to admit it but he is. He daydreams a lot about you being on the top of him. He wants you to be dirty on him.
E - Experience (How experienced are they ? Do they know what they’re doing ?)
I do not believe he got time to actually date multiple people, I believe that when you two started dating you were is first of everything. But he won’t admit that, so it took you a lot of times until getting intimate with him. Not that he didn’t want that, but he didn’t want to look weak not after claiming to you that he was Shinganshima Hero. No no. He needed to pretend he got experienced, so obviously he started to listen to soldier’s talking a bit more, everything they got explicit he just listen carefully to learn a lot of things and he was caught listening to them all he had to do was to smirk them as if he could do better than them. It’s not like he didn’t know how to do it, but he was aware that you needed more time than him to actually getting ready and the worst for him would be to hurt you while putting his dick in you. So he wanted to be sure to be able to give you the foreplay you deserve.
When he thought he got enough information, he started to be explicit with you. Again, he is way too honest with everyone so when he decided that he felt okay to have sex with you he told you so. It could be a more romantic, but we’re taking about Floch.
F - Favourite Position ( this goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)
Even though he claims being pretty open-minded with sex (which he is), he does have his favourite things to do with you in bed. Whenever he feels dominant or submissive, there’s some positions which he loves to take you even though during the do he tends to change.
Doggy style : First, having you on four for him he is favorite position. He just love to have his neck around your neck while the other is on your hip grabbing it firmly, just so he could grind you against the mattress. He loves the power he got from this position, it feels so good for him and he could lean his body just to brush every good spot inside of you. When he feels extra dominant, he would talk extra dirty, he would slap your ass and even grab your hair. If you thought he would be soft on you, you were wrong at least not with this position. It gave him a huge ego boost.
Andromaque : When he feels cocky or in need, he would just lay back on his bed, head behind his head as he watches you bouncing on his body, using him for your own pleasure. Whenever he felt like this, he would either grab your ass or slap it while moving his hip faster. He may have something with your ass cause everytime it’s on display he can’t help but either grab it or slap it he just have to do it. He wants your ass to be marked by him, seeing you struggling while sitting or anything just the fact that he is the reason of your struggling, another ego boost for him.
Anvil : When he feels like this, sometime he would have your body close to him as he is moving his hips against you. The way his body is moving slowly but strongly against you, his hand would stroke your face or your hair. Everything he would do is careful and loving, he would treat you as if you were made of glass. It’s pretty rare and OOC for him to do it, it happened during time when he can’t stop thinking about the shinganshima event. In order to cure him from his trauma, he uses sex and especially vanilla sexe so he could just appreciate the moment and your warmth to help him focus on the present.
Missionary : Sometimes he would tolerate missionary but just because he could hold your neck firmly and spit into your mouth and he is fucking you dumb. The problem about this position is even though he got a huge access to your clit he can’t spank you the way he wants to. But he counterbalance that with the way your boobs is moving up and down and he is moving his hip deep into you
I - Intimacy (how they are during the moment, romantic aspect…)
As I was explaining earlier, most of the time he is on the dominant side. He was already cocky and a bit pride, but then Shinganshima and he became colder and yet in need of control he merely looses his life back then, the thought of not having control about what was about to happen might trigger him. So now, he is need of controlling everything. And yet sometimes, when he feels extra needy or when he feels like he needs your attention he would be more submissive.
More submissive in the way that he would allow you to be on the top of him, or he would take extra care of you, he would kiss you a lot to the point both of you might lose your breath. He is not vanilla at alt, so expect a lot of degrading stuff, dirty talk, he would bring some pain in bed nothing too serious but he knows you can take it. He is also very talkative in bed, always saying how good you’re taking him, how well you’re prepared for him, what a good slut you are.
Don’t expect any I love you during the act, it’s very primal for him not a way to show you his love but more his devotion or desire.
N - NO (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
He is absolutely against everything that involve someone else, why would he bother getting someone in his bed when he got you around his fingers ? What make them thinking they were worth of his time ? Although he won’t mind if someone was watching us trying to be discreet, he would gladly sent them a smirk while getting rougher on you just for the pleasure of knowing someone is watching him. He doesn’t want to share you but would gladly share his time.
He won’t do anything that involve physical fluid except saliva (if you think that bastard won’t spent into your mouth when he feels extra dirty you’re so wrong). Because of what happened in Shinganshima and because he tends to be more violent now, he doesn’t like anything that involve blood, one time he bit your shoulder way too harder and you end up bleeding from his bite, it kills his mood. There’s so many violence around him, he doesn’t want to be violent on you.
Although he doesn’t mind you being on the top, he would never allow you to put anything in him, getting on four isn’t a possibility for him. He is a switch but won’t accept to be too submissive.
O - Oral ( preference in giving or receiving skill, etc)
Alright due to his huge ego, 99% of the time he wants you on your kneel for him and act like the good slut you are. He absolutely love when you are on your kneel for him while he stood up, put both of his hands on either side of your head as he throat fucking you. Take it and he would reward you after. If you’re teasing his head too much, or give it extra attention he would switch into a more needy side and he would anything and I mean anything to cum, and if you’re overstimulated him he might call you Queen.
He won’t mind giving you head, but use most of the time as a reward or a way to get a quickie, like he would make you cum on his pretty skill tongue and then stood up quickly put you face against the wall as he got his way into you. He is pretty good with his mouth, he loves writing his name on your clit with his tongue or fucking you with it. He would tease you a lot with his finger brushing against your G-Spot without actually hitting hit, it can also be a way to « break » you so would be nothing but a crying mess for him.
S - Stamina ( How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last)
He is soldier so I believe his stamina is quite strong, he can last easily for twenty thirty minute when he feels like it. Although he is pretty sensitive especially around his head which might force him to not last as long as he wanted to (especially if you’re clenching around him, do it and he would moan like a bitch). But because he is pretty sensitive at his head, he tends to get overstimulated very easily which is good when you’re taking the lead and want to punish him or something but it might be troublesome if you just wanted another round and he just needs some time to breath and calme down.
I think he can do two proper rounds without being too sensitive, if you’re going through his rounds he would start moaning, and if you’re being extra generous with his hands he would be putty in your hand. But you two are down, all he wants to do is having you on his chest taking his breath and just sleeps, he is not the strongest.
W - Wild card ( Get a random head canon for the character of your choice)
One of his most dirty fantasies, is to tactually take you during a Yeagarist meeting not necessarily for a orgy (even though he would be turn of by the thought) but just the fact that he is taking in front people that might be interested on you, just the way of showing to everyone that he is actually a god, that thought never failed to bring him close to his climax. It might be a voyeurism kink or maybe deep down he is into orgy I don’t know, but he loves stroking his dick while thinking about you two fucking while surrounded by people masturbante in front of you.
#attack on titans#Aot#Shingeki no kyojin#Snk#floch forster#floch forster x reader#Floch Forster smut#Floch x reader#F#floch forster headcanon#aot Floch#snk Floch#snk x reader#aot x reader#eren yeager#eren Jaeger#aot smut#snk smut
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Vows
Ch. 17, A Glint of Beskar
18+, smut, implied infertility, DID I MENTION SMUT, oral fem!recieving
He holds the ring in his hand, unmoving as you stare down at it, your small gasp echoing through the cockpit. The visor is tilted towards you, letting the silence blanket the room. Din finally grasps your hands and slowly kneels in front of you, watching as tears fall down your face. “Y/N, please say something,” the modulator barely catches his quiet pleading.
“Yes,” your whisper is barely audible as you drop to both of your knees in front of him. “A million times, yes.” The tension in his shoulders immediately dissipates, the streaking stars making his Beskar shine as he looks at you through the visor. Taking your left hand, he starts to slip the ring onto your finger before stopping and looking down.
“This,” he whispers, “is made from my armor. The men don’t wear rings, we won’t have a ceremony with friends. When I give you this, we’ll repeat the words together and it will be our union. Are you sure you want this?”
You stop him from sliding it the rest of the way onto your finger by standing up and you hear his breath hitch as the visor snaps upwards to look at you, “Din, come here.” He takes your hand and stands to his full height, glancing down at the pram as he does so, almost like he knows what you’re about to say. “I want to marry you under these stars, and I want to kiss you after we say the vows. Will you let me?”
“Yes,” he breaths out. Din takes your hand again and slides the ring into place. “Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar’tome, mhi me’dinui an, mhi ba’juri verde.”
You grasp his hands in yours and look into the visor, hoping to make eye contact with him, “We are one whether we are together or apart, we will share everything and we will raise our children as warriors.” Your smile makes his knees weak, and he tries to stop his tears as he breaks away from you to grip his helmet. On instinct, you close your eyes as you hear the hiss of the helmet disengage, then the clank as it’s set down somewhere.
“Riduur,” Din’s strong hands come up to gently grasp your face, his thumbs swiping at your own tears, “open your eyes, my love.”
The memories of the little boy you knew as a child would never do the man, standing in front of you, justice. You can’t help but study every feature of his face, every curl adorning his head, the way his lips part as he looks down at you and he holds his breath. His brown eyes stare back at you, wide with anticipation and nervousness and love, the tears streaming from them glistening in the blue light. His tan skin glows in the starlight and his hair falls haphazardly onto his brow bone, the scruff on his chin turning grey in some areas. You reach up to stroke your thumb across his cheek, and he stiffens at first before leaning into your touch and giving you permission. His eyes close at the movement, and his breathing evens out as his arms encircle your waist and pull you towards him. One hand comes up to weave into your hair at the base of your neck and your own eyes close as his lips come down to meet yours. Your hand moves to entwine with his hair, the other one resting on his bicep. Though he’s kissed you countless times, none of them compare to this.
Even with your eyes closed, you can see the blue and white streaks of hyperspace. His tongue darts out against your bottom lips and you sigh, parting yours for him. Your tongues dance around each other as he deepens the kiss, pulling you even farther into him and at some point you feel the heat start building in your core. He feels it too, because you feel Din harden against you, his cock nudging against your stomach. “Mesh’la,” he whispers against your lips, pulling away to catch his breath. You breathe heavily against him, the Beskar on his chest digging into your breasts. “Please.” His pleading makes you ache and you sigh again, the sound making his cock twitch against you. He reaches down to click the buttons on his arm to move the pram, and it floats toward the hull. Once it’s gone, Din grasps your jaw and gently forces you to look up at him, “My beautiful wife, let me show you much I love you.” You gasp as he kisses you swiftly before dropping to his knees, the Beskar clanging against the floor. He looks up at you with those brown eyes, and you feel the heat pool between your legs as he lifts your shirt up, moving your hands to hold it against your breasts, “Don’t move until I say so.”
You nod, your lips parted and swollen as you grasp the shirt against your chest. Din lets his finger tips graze against your skin, and you realize he hasn’t even taken his gloves off. The movement causes goose bumps to raise along the trails he traces. He lays a few wet kisses against your stomach, before turning his attention to your boots. After discarding them, he grips your waistband and pulls your pants and underwear down, helping you step out of them. The cool air makes you shiver and the fact that his face is so close to you while you’re slick with desire makes you moan. He runs his fingers up your inner thigh, causing your breath to hitch and he looks up at you, his eyes dark with want. Din pauses his movements against your leg, only to drag his hand down until he wraps his fingers around your ankle and lifts your leg so that it’s hooked over his shoulder. The Beskar digs into your skin as he leans forward to run his tongue through your folds. You cry out, almost dropping your hands from cupping your breasts but he tsks against you and whispers, “Don’t move, or I’ll stop.” You whimper when his strong hands grasp your ass, holding you in place, his breath teasing your clit.
“Din…” you trail off when he leans forward again, slowly licking you and flicking his tongue against your clit, the bundle of nerves shooting electric sensations throughout your body. He lazily licks you, dipping his tongue in and out of your pussy before sucking on your clit, until you tremble against him. Finally, when the stars streaking above you mix with the stars you see in your vision, he pulls you even closer to him and snakes one of his hands between your legs from behind. His forearm presses into your ass as his fingers tease your entrance and you cry out again. He brings his other hand up to cup your breast under the shirt, pinching at your nipple as he bites at your hip. The leather of his gloves is rough and smooth all at the same time, making his touches extra sensitive against your skin.
“You can touch me now.” Without hesitation, you drop your hands to grab at his hair gently. All of the sensations he is providing explode when his thick digit enters you, quickly followed by another and then a third. He curls his fingers just right, and you come undone. Trembling, you almost sink down but he holds you in place. As you finger fucks you through it, he moves the pilot chair with his other hand. He quickly pushes you down into it and removes his fingers, only to replace them with his mouth as he licks up your juices. The feeling of him sucking on your clit sends you over the edge again, the overstimulation making the second orgasm almost painful as it rips through you with white hot intensity. He doesn’t stop his assault on your clit until you’re a mess of moaning and heavy breathing, the trembling subsiding. “I believe I can give you one more, my love.”
“Din… fuck me,” you whine as you look at him with heavily lidded eyes. His chin is slick with your cum as he unhooks your legs from around his shoulders. Din sucks on one of his gloved fingers before biting the leather and pulling it off, quickly discarding the other one, too. He stands, looking down at you as he starts disengaging the armor. Slowly, he pulls it off, laying it down gently to the side. He knows the rate he’s going at is making you ache, and he watch as you reach down to try to give your aching pussy some relief. You moan when your fingers brush your clit, and he lets out a low groan at the sight of watching you. Finally, he discards his shirt, his tan and muscular skin slick with sweat and glowing from the stars. He drops his pants and kicks them off, his cock springing up against his stomach. You’ve felt the length of it enter you so many times, but this is the first time you’ve seen it and you gasp a little. He strokes the entire length of it, throwing his head back and letting out a low groan again, before reaching for you and hauling you to your feet. “Din-“
Your protest is cut short when he picks you up and pushes you against the controls. They dig into your back, but the pain makes your pussy throb as he reaches down to position himself against your entrance. You wrap your legs around his waist, his tip teasing your clit, and you look up at him, in awe of the man that’s looking down at you. He smiles, making your heart and pussy flutter, before dipping down to kiss you. With a thrust, he sinks inside of you, both of you moaning through the kiss. Din bites your bottom lip gently as he sets a slow, but deep pace. Since you’re still sensitive, the overstimulation makes your pussy clench around him and he throws his head back. You wrap your hands into his hair, pulling him back to look at you as you kiss him again. He smiles against your lips before you move to kiss his jaw line, his cheek bones, his nose, and finally his neck. As you suck at his pulse point, his pace picks up and you moan, the sound echoing through the space. “Look at me, mesh’la.” You do as he says and look up at him, fighting the urge to close your eyes as the tension in your core tightens, threatening to snap at any moment. He reaches his hand between your bodies, never breaking eye contact, to rub your clit and it sends you over the edge as you pant out his name, trembling against him. His hips still against you, and you feel him cum, shooting his seed into you.
We will raise our children as warriors.
The vow rushes through your mind as he collapses against you, both of you breathing heavy and trembling. As he kisses your neck, you can’t help the tears that threaten to spill from your eyes.
Taglist: @greatcircle79
#the mandalorian#the mandolorian x reader#din djarin smut#din djarin reader insert#din djarin x reader
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The ABCs of Demonology [3]: Cum
Fandom: Devil May Cry
Characters: Dante, fem!Reader
Tags: NSFW Alphabet, Drabble Collection, Smut, Fluff, Established Relationship, Aftercare
Chapters: 3/26
Summary: A series of drabbles based on the-coldest-goodbye’s NSFW Alphabet template. Each drabble has a different theme, but all of them star Dante Sparda.
WARNING: This chapter contains Dante in his SDT form. If that is something you are uncomfortable with, please skip this entry!
»»————- ⚜ ————-««
“Holy shit.”
It’s all you can think to say, given your current situation. A job gone wrong has left Dante in a bit of a predicament, trapped in his Sin Devil Trigger with no way to phase back, and both of you had been searching through what little occult tomes you’d managed to procure over the years since he’d gotten back. Your body, however, had reminded you that the post hunt ritual of him tearing your clothes off in his haste to get his dick inside you had been interrupted, so, with a sheepish sort of wave, you’d gone to take a shower, where you’d gotten yourself off, hoping a small bit of release would make it easier to concentrate instead of focusing on all of the wrong things. Like how firm his ass is, or the fact that he towers over you more now than ever, or that rough, ridged tongue you’d caught glimpses of as he did his best to speak with a maw not made for doing it.
What you’d forgotten was that his sense of smell, already better than a human’s, was sharpened to an insane degree whenever he shifted forms. All of his senses were. Which meant, of course, that he’d been well aware of exactly what you’d been doing, and you’d returned to the shop to find him panting, the desk in splinters from his claws digging into it, his tongue all but lolling out of his mouth as if tasting the air. Holy shit, indeed, and more so when you caught sight of the massive cock jutting from between his legs, thick and ridged and glowing the same molten color of his eyes. You know it will not, in any circumstance, fit in you without a hell of a lot of prep and more than a few prayers.
That doesn’t stop your mouth from watering with anticipation.
His breath leaves him in a rasped purr as you step closer, a hand the size of your head reaching out for you. “Big boy,” you murmur, your gaze locked on the fluid streaming steadily from his length. It seems thicker than normal, and you want, in that moment, more than anything, to taste it, but that raises the question of how. On a good day, going down on Dante leaves your jaw aching. The size he is now, you doubt that more than the head will fit, though, with how tall he is now, at least you won’t have to kneel down to do it.
He catches you by the waist, hoisting you up to eye-level and bending a knee for you to balance on as his tongue laves over your neck up to your cheek. The sensation is strange, but not unpleasant, and you’re already spinning into thoughts of what it would feel like between your legs, pressing to your clit, or running over your nipples. When it nudges your lips, you part them, and you can’t help but moan as the spiced flavor of him fills your mouth when you suck on it. Dante grunts, curling the muscle to lick over your teeth until you’re panting and squirming in his grip, your clothes suddenly too hot and too tight against your sensitive skin. Only then does he break the kiss to return to your throat, and the graze of his fangs makes you gasp. Sure, you and Dante have played around with his Devil Trigger before, but this? You don’t know that you’ve ever wanted him this badly.
“Dante,” you whine, jolting when his tongue wraps around your breast over your shirt. “Dante, let me down. I want to . . .”
A low rumble resonates from his chest, but he does as you’ve asked. The moment your feet touch the floor, you’re stripping, uncaring where your clothes wind up as long as they’re not on you, and his cock twitches with each inch of skin you reveal to him. You shuck your panties off your hips and step forward, pushing at his stomach. “Sit.”
Down he goes, until he’s on the ground, and you follow, crawling between thighs that could crush you without any trouble at all, groaning when his cock nudges your cheek. Dante’s eyes are white-hot as he watches you get settled; normally you’d dive right in, but you feel like getting acquainted with this new him first, so you take a few minutes to explore. Up close, you can see the slit in his plating where his length emerges and the way the tip flares out and down and the ridges that cover it and, down at the base, a faint protrusion that you’re pretty sure would press on your clit nicely if you could ever fit enough of him within you to get it there. He doesn’t rush you, though you can hear how ragged his breathing grows the longer you touch him, and, satisfied—for now—you lean up to press your lips to the weeping head.
The flavor that explodes across your tongue is unlike any other: rich and heady, with a faint something you can’t quite name. What surprises you more than how potent it is, however, is the slight tingling that spreads along your mouth and the utterly obscene amount of slick that slips over your thighs. Is he secreting a fucking aphrodisiac?
Whatever it is, it makes fitting the first few inches much easier. You’re pulling away to draw a deep breath, determined to get as much of him as you can, when Dante grabs you again, and you yelp as he manhandles you easily until he’s got your thighs wrapped around his head. The first pass of his tongue over your slit has you moaning, your hands scrabbling over his stomach. It’s everything you hoped for and more, the friction when he dips it between your folds to run over your clit delicious; he pauses there, his hips shifting so his cock nudges your lips, and you open eagerly to let him slide between, the strain easier to bear at this angle.
You’re more than happy to let him take the lead. He fucks your mouth with his length and your sex with his tongue, and the more of his precum you swallow, the more relaxed and aroused you get, until you’re teetering on the brink of overstimulation. Every inch of you is sensitive, from your throbbing clit to your tender nipples, and your orgasm takes you utterly by surprise when it hits, tearing a cry from your throat that’s muffled by his flesh as it lashes over you in wave after wave of bliss. Dante growls, his claws digging into your backside, and his hips take on a desperate pace seconds before the first rush of his seed fills your mouth.
And, holy fuck, there’s so much.
It floods your throat, forcing you to draw back to swallow and breathe, and the rest coats your neck, your chest, his stomach, pooling and dripping in streams already going sticky in the chill air of the shop. It’s the most you’ve ever seen from him, even in his devil form, and you shift to sit on his chest and reach to take his cock in your hands, pumping as it continues to coat his abdomen, licking your lips when some of it splatters on your thighs. A full minute goes by with him twisting beneath you, and by the time he’s done, you’re certain you’re going to have to scrub the floors just to be safe, and you’re turning to make that quip when electricity crackles against your skin. Then the length in your grasp is flesh, the muscles beneath you firm but definitely human, and you laugh softly as Dante groans, swatting lightly at your rear.
“Jesus fuck,” he mumbles. “You alright, darlin’? I didn’t realize . . . Well, it’s, uh . . .”
“Good thing I got undressed,” you tease. “Have you done this before? Feel like I would have noticed that many towels getting dirty.”
Dante snorts. “Nah. Didn’t even know I could, if I’m honest. You sure you’re alright? I didn’t hurt ya, did I?”
Grinning, you move so you’re facing him, your hands braced on either side of his head. His familiar baby blues trail over your face and down your chest, his pupils dilating at the sight of the mess he’s made of you. “Nope,” you declare. “In face, that was really, really hot. Can we do it again?”
He runs a finger through the fluid drying on your skin, his nostrils flaring with what you recognize as desire. “You want to?”
“Mm-hm.” You rock your hips, dragging your slit over his cock, which is still hard. “Right now, in fact.”
His eyes take on a red shine as he pushes up to his elbows. “Greedy,” he clicks his tongue, “but who am I to deny ya?”
Dante rolls you both, pinning you beneath him as his mouth claims yours, and you suck on his tongue eagerly, hoping no one decides to call for a few days.
#dmc#devil may cry#dante sparda#dante/reader#dante x reader#dmc fanfic#dmc fanfiction#writing#drabble#myfic#abcs of demonology
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Valdemar x Rex
Very NSFW. I decided to post the whole fic if you dont want to go to ao3
Moonlight shone in through a large window faintly illuminating a bedroom made of assorted pillows and blankets scattered on the floor.
Resting on a pile of pillows Valdemar was reading one of their many tomes while Rex lay curled up beside them, fine just relaxing in their presence. Valdemar shuffled around disturbing Rex but not gaining any more of a reaction than an irate tail whip. Almost as soon as Rex was comfortable Valdemar moved again. At this point, Rex could see the tension in their shoulders and the frustrated expression on their face.
They let out a sigh and reached up, stroking a clawed hand along Valdemar's cheek, “I know there’s something wrong V… you’re never usually stressed like this. What’s gotten you so upset that you can’t relax while reading? Was it something when we visited the palace?”
Valdemar snorted, “nothing any of those mortals at the palace could do would ever truly upset me.”
Rex cocked their head and smiled at Valdemar, “Okay but that doesn’t completely answer my question. What’s wrong?”
They sat up, swinging their legs over Valdemar's lap.
Valdemar looked away, a blush spreading across their cheeks, “it’s nothing that you have to worry about.”
While their tone was cold Rex knew that this was just a façade.
“You’re avoiding the question,” Rex said as they slid up to be face to face with Valdemar.
The blush was deeper now and Valdemar was truly starting to show the signs of being flustered.
They turned their head away and broke Rex’s stare, “lately I’ve been experiencing all sorts of new feelings that I don’t want, but I can’t resist them. I want you so badly. It's never been worthwhile to study this so for once I know nothing. It’s caused me quite a lot of stress.”
It was mumbled but Rex could still understand. They were a bit flustered at this confession as well but they hid it and decided that it was truly time to go all in.
Rex gripped Valdemar’s face before leaning forward, planting a firm kiss on their lips. It didn’t take long for the couple to get their tongues in each other's mouths.
Even the taste of blood off their sharp teeth didn’t deter them. They both moaned quietly as they fell back into the pillows, desperate for each other.
Valdemar pushed their hips into Rex and pulled them close, digging their face into the crook of Rex’s neck. It was difficult for Rex to keep themselves from just tearing Valdemar’s clothes off and fucking them senseless right there, but they kept some semblance of control and ground against them.
Rex pulled back and smiled before cooing, “Aww I didn’t think It would be this easy to get you worked up.”
Valdemar shook their head and let out a soft laugh, “It’s only this easy because I’ve been holding this back for a while.”
Rex just laughed back and leaned in, planting kisses and bites along Valdemar's neck and working their way down their chest. Their hands slid from Valdemar’s chest down to their thighs and Rex dug their claws in, causing Valdemar to let out a whimper of enjoyment mixed with pain. Rex laid another kiss on Valdemar's chest before bringing their head downwards.
They kissed and marked Valdemar's inner thigh before asking them, “If you trust me to do this can I take all that stress away”
Valdemar gave a surprisingly soft smile before telling Rex in a breathy voice, “I trust you. You’re the only one to ever make me feel this way… as much as I hate it”
Rex rolled their eyes at that last remark before slipping their head under Valdemar's nightgown. They had already formed a pussy which was soaking through the lace panties they wore.
Rex’s claws tore through the panties with ease and they immediately got to work, flicking their forked tongue against Valdemar's clit and licking the outside in long strokes. When Valdemar wrapped their legs around Rex’s head they went all in, pushing their tongue as deep as it would go and licking aggressively. They switched between sucking and kissing on the outside and the rough licking all while their hand was busy rubbing Valdemar’s clit.
Valdemar shook and moaned, pleading for Rex to go harder and get rougher. Rex was happy to oblige them even nipping at their pussy with their sharp canines.
When Rex pulled away their face was covered in Valdemar’s fluids which they licked off before smirking at Valdemar.
Valdemar glared up at them, “why did you stop? You can’t just drag me close to climax and then stop.”
They continued to complain but Rex just shook their head,” I have more stuff planned love. I’m not just a one-trick pony”
They got up and pulled something out of a drawer on the other side of the room.
Valdemar blushed as they realized Rex was holding a strap on.
“Sadly, unlike you, I can’t shapeshift and if I ever want to get the opportunity of railing you this will have to do,” Rex said as they put it on.
Valdemar smiled and laid back into the pillow pile, “I’ve always enjoyed how straightforward you are with me… many others would be too afraid to say such lewd things to my face”
Rex settled down in front of Valdemar and helped lift the nightdress over Valdemar’s head, “I have no shame, especially when it comes to how much I adore you”
They felt much more than adoration as they looked over Valdemar’s body splayed out in front of them for their enjoyment. Everything about them was too perfect for words. Every curve of their torso, every mark and scar and line of their thin hips was just so beautiful. The only thing Rex thought to do was to lean forward and capture them into another passionate kiss.
Valdemar moaned into Rex’s mouth as the head of the dildo pressed into their folds. Rex pulled out of the kiss to fully insert the strap on and began to slowly thrust, holding Valdemar’s hips against them. They picked up speed quickly moving their hands to pin Valdemar’s wrists above their head. Rex could feel themselves grow even wetter around the strap on as they watched Valdemar’s face contort with pleasure. Besides a few requests for Rex to go “faster and harder” neither of them bothered to say anything, letting their cries of pleasure make it known how they were feeling. Rex had never seen Valdemar so wantonly emotional and they would never admit how much they liked it.
Eventually, Rex let go of Valdemar’s wrists and let them stroke their body. They shuddered as Valdemar’s cold hands snuck up their torso and came to rest groping their chest. Valdemar looked at Rex in a way they had never looked at them before, at least not when Rex was looking. Since Rex hadn’t gotten the chance to pleasure themselves, Valdemar's lustful gaze almost sent them over the edge. The pressure building up inside of them was almost painful to bear, but for now, their job was just to make their lover feel good.
They continued to thrust and stroke until Valdemar cried that they were going to cum. Rex pushed harder as Valdemar’s back arched into them and cum dribbled onto their legs. When Valdemar had finally finished Rex slowly pulled out and both of them just sat panting and sweaty.
Once they caught their breath Valdemar turned to Rex and asked, “can we go one more time?… I...I want to cum inside you.”
Rex smirked, looking down at them, “you’ve been good so I think you deserve it”
They didn’t get time to rest as Rex sat on top of them, grinding against their newly formed cock with their pussy. Valdemar moaned and begged for Rex to put it inside but they held off, torturing them with a little bit of pleasure.
When Rex had decided their begging was sufficient they moved up and slid themselves onto the almost too big cock. Valdemar let out a groan of pleasure as Rex took their dick all at once. Rex gasped at how good it felt filling them and began to rock against Valdemar, picking up speed as soon as they found a rhythm. In the throes of passion, they dug their nails into Valdemar’s chest and clawed them, leaving long red lines tracing over older scars. Valdemar let out a slight gasp as the marks stung and pulsed with heat.
Even through the overstimulation, Valdemar felt more pleasure than they ever had with this kind of activity. They could barely think or speak. The only thing they wanted was to see Rex pleased with them. Valdemar sat up and began to thrust into Rex, pulling them into a tight embrace and kissing their neck. Rex melted into the hug and nuzzled Valdemar, complimenting how good they felt inside of them. The only thing Valdemar could do in return was to moan and trail more kisses down Rex’s neck.
Rex lifted their head with a firm grip and bit down hard on Valdemar’s collarbone, shocking them out of their thoughts. It stung in a good kind of way. The kissing and biting continued hard enough to leave bruises on Valdemar’s neck and at this point, they were completely fine with that. They belonged to Rex.
Rex also reached up and grabbed one of their horns, firmly stroking it which almost sent Valdemar over the edge. They panted as their partner roughed them up more.
Valdemar could see Rex’s cum starting to drip down their thighs and they could feel the pressure in their dick ready to burst. They made an aggressive thrust into Rex’s pussy, shooting copious amounts of viscous, black cum through them. Rex cried out as they were filled more than they thought possible by Valdemar. Still, Rex rocked a few more times letting their tight pussy drag out the last of the cum.
Valdemar’s cock grew soft and Rex lifted themselves off of it, a mixture of cum slowly dripping down their legs.
By now Valdemar could barely talk and just fell back with a sigh. Rex smiled at them and pushed some of their stray hairs away from their face, giving them a soft kiss on the cheek. They got up and came back with some warm rags and wiped up the mess they had both made. Rex didn’t bother to put any pajamas back on and lay down next to Valdemar, who rolled over and pulled them into their arms.
“You know, you’re pretty good for a measly half-demon” Valdemar mumbled.
Rex snorted and shook their head, wrapping their arms around Valdemar and stroking their hair. Soon Valdemar was asleep. Rex pulled the blankets over them and snuggled closer to Valdemar, resting their head on top of their lover and slowly drifting off.
It was the first time in a long time that they both slept well.
#the arcana#The Arcana Game#smut#smut fanfiction#lemon#ns/fw#valdemar#quaestor valdemar#the arcana valdemar#valdemar x apprentice#valdemar x mc
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An Elemental Competition
read it on ao3 here
The plan Idrilla had for the day most certainly hadn’t involved this, but she was most definitely not going to complain about this turn of events. Well, she had maybe been angling for this a tad bit… Maybe more than a tad. She grins to herself; who was she kidding, she had definitely been planning on this today. A few days had passed since she’d seen that delightful glint in Solas's eyes, the one she knew meant mischief was brewing somewhere in that stupid shiny head of his.
She’d been working on building this since she had seen that spark; lingering just a hair closer than usual when they talked, a few extra touches to his hands when passing books, whispering as an excuse to lean over when talking normally would have sufficed. Now, she was getting impatient herself, and from the looks she had been receiving over the day, Idrilla would say Solas was getting impatient too.
Maybe it was time to fix that.
Night had fallen by the time Idrilla decided to act, the veilfire candles scattered about Solas's desk burning spotlights into Idrilla’s sensitive eyes. Solas was focused, hunched over his desk examining one of the many shards they had found over the course of the last few weeks, an open tome in curling Elvhen resting beside him. He hadn’t even noticed her walking in, or rather, if he had he certainly gave no sign of it.
She took care to step quietly on the stone floor, her bare feet making only the slightest of noises when she laid them down. Idrilla crosses the meager distance between the door and Solas's desk, coming up to drape her arms over his shoulders. “Busy?” She asks, huffing a small sigh over the sensitive skin of Solas's ears.
Idrilla could feel the slight shudder that breath elicited run through Solas, but his reply of “Very.” was a cool as it always was and Idrilla grinned.
“You don’t look very busy.” Idrilla leaned forward, making sure most of her weight was resting on him, her own considerable height making it easy to look over Solas's shoulder as she did. She ran a hand along the cords of his necklace, tugging slightly. “Are you sure you’re not, distracted?” She punctuated the last with a sharp nip to the underside of Solas's jaw.
Solas picks up his hands from where they were keeping his place in his book and Idrilla knows she’s already won. She feels the slight warmth of the growing blush rising up Solas's neck as he takes her hands, bringing them back up to wrap around his neck, and turns around so that he’s facing her, Idrilla’s forearms resting snugly on Solas's shoulders. Idrilla smirks, and licks her lips before saying, “Done for the night emma lath?”
“Oh, I haven’t even begun vhenan.” The glint that Idrilla saw earlier returns to Solas’s eyes, lighting them with an air of playfulness he so rarely exhibits around others but for her… For her he lets the walls fall. Solas picks her up without warning, scooping Idrilla up and holding her by her thighs until she wraps her legs around his waist with a laugh. She drops her head, looking down at Solas with a smile on her lips and in her eyes.
Solas grins in return, and he walks over to the door leading to his sleeping chambers, the room they had been sharing for a few weeks now. Idrilla starts peppering Solas’s neck and jaw with kisses, trying to make as much of a nuisance of herself as she can as Solas tries to open the door. “Vhenan.” Solas grumbles, his voice much lower as his skin jumps under Idrilla’s thorough ministrations.
“Oh, something wrong emma lath?” Idrilla breathes over his ear, rolling her hips slightly as she does. Solas swallows a groan, but Idrilla can feel it reverberating in his chest and she laughs lowly in response.
After a moment’s more fumblings Solas is able to open the door, and the two of them tumble inside the room, before Solas shuts the door behind them, pressing Idrilla up against it.
“Fenedhis lasa.” Solas captures Idrilla’s mouth with his own, exploring the familiar landscape of it with reckless energy and Idrilla responds in kind, grinding her hips down hard. Solas growls underneath her, and his hands started roaming up her tunic, pulling it up and off of her with a few sharp tugs. Idrilla raises her arms, helping Solas in his quest to relieve her of her clothing, before dropping her hands back to Solas’s chest, fingers digging into his soft tunic.
Idrilla shivers, her head falling back against the hardwood of the door with a solid thunk, anticipatory energy sliding through her as the dark brown skin of her upper body was bared, her breast band heaving as she shuddered through her breaths. “Off.” She presses against him, rolling her hips insistently now.
The cool calloused skin of Solas’s hands was akin to lightning for the sparks it sent through Idrilla as he brought them up along her stomach to start undoing her breast band. “In good time my heart, in good time.” For all of his supposed detached façade, Idrilla could feel the tremble in his hands and hear it in his voice, the barely restrained hunger in his eyes. “Be patient.”
“Make me.” She leans down, taking the very tips of Solas’s ear into her mouth and sucking hard. Solas jerks, swearing and fumbling, but still managing to keep his hands steady enough to completely undo her band, the fabric unravelling and falling to the floor beside them. Idrilla gasps, releasing Solas’s ear and shivering as his hands cup her breasts, a thumb brushing her nipple.
He chuckles, low and gravelly, “I plan to.”
It was Idrilla’s turn to quiver, her muscles melting like so much wax under Solas’s attention. He moves them from the door, taking the two steps from the entryway to the bed and dropping Idrilla on it with little ceremony. She bounces once, hands and arms splayed to the sides as Solas stands to the side, stripping his tunic and leggings. Idrilla whistles, and giggles at Solas’s blush. He joins her quickly, and peels her own leggings from her legs, laying a wet trail of open kisses down her hips and thighs. Idrilla sighs, spreading her legs and raising her hands above her head in a drawn out stretch, arching her back as she does.
“You.. are.. Exquisite.” Solas punctuates each word with a separate kiss, making his way back up from Idrilla’s thighs to her chest, one hand drifting across her stomach lazily.
She huffs, wiggling, “And you are being insufferable.” Idrilla has all the warning of Solas’s laughter before she feels his fingers prodding at her entrance, her dark skin jumping as she presses her hips against them. “Solas.” She whines as the fingers do nothing more than apply the slightest of pressures against her slick core. “Emma lath please.”
Solas chuckles, the air ghosting over Idrilla’s chest and the sensitive buds of her nipples. “Something wrong vhenan?” He parrots her words back to her as he rubs his fingers against her clit, eliciting a groan from Idrilla who throws her head back against the soft pillows.
“Insufferable.” She wiggles her hips, trying to get Solas’s fingers deeper, but they retract and the hand that had been roaming her chest drops to her hips, stilling her movements,
He tsks, “Ah ah ah” Solas says with barely veiled amusement, “Beg for me.”
Idrilla scoffs, “You’ll have to do much better than that.”
The glint in Solas’s eyes takes on a reverent fire, and he smiles slowly. Idrilla freezes, that smile was dangerous, and Idrilla could feel a warm rush of pleasure tinted excitement run through her. “Oh vhenan, I will,” She could feel Solas’s magic gather, the electric storm brewing underneath his fingers, and she knew exactly what he had planned.
With a sizzling snap, a spark of lightning jumped from Solas’s finger tips, lighting upon Idrilla’s skin and she shouts, arching sharply off the bed. The first time she had brought up her fondness of lightning behind closed doors, Solas had shown her one of the best nights of her life, and tonight was shaping up to be no exception.
A few more drops of lightning flashed across Idrilla’s skin before she gave in with a strangled, “Please!”
Solas’s pleased chuckle filled her ears as he relented, the pressure on her hips disappearing as he sank his fingers into her, scissoring them apart in quick succession. “Solas!” Idrilla’s entire body jerks forcefully, shuddering into the sheets as she comes apart under Solas’s hands.
“Exquisite.” Solas breathes, retracting his fingers after a few moments, when Idrilla begins to squirm from overstimulation. He crawls upwards to kiss her hungrily and drag his hands up to cup her breasts again.
There’s no strength left in Idrilla’s body, and she sinks into the mattress, but meets Solas’s hunger with her own ferocious appetite. They linger there for a few moments, before Solas traces a path of burning kisses along Idrilla’s jawline as she gasps for breath. “Are you ready for me vhenan?” He asks gently, trailing one hand back down her stomach towards her entrance, brushing carefully against her swollen clit.
She moans in response, “Nothing short of the Dread Wolf himself would be able to get me to say no to that.” Idrilla felt rather than heard Solas’s low chuckle, then she definitely felt the intrusion of Solas entering her. Idrilla shuddered, and reached up to wrap her hands around Solas’s neck, digging her nails into the skin of back. “Fuck me.” She gasps, “Please.”
Immediately upon her words Solas’s hips jerk, and he drops his head into the crook of her neck and breathes deeply, a growl rumbling in his chest. Solas sets a brutal pace, snapping his hips rapidly, and nipping a line of sharp nibbles along Idrilla’s collar. She arches into him, her breath stuttering out as she’s overwhelmed by the rising tide of pleasure.
Time seems to slow, Idrilla’s senses stretching and distorting moments into impossibly long heartbeats as the only sounds in the room she can hear become their breaths echoing sharply against the wet slap of skin on skin.
Solas’s hands roam across her dark skin, and more than once he flicks a tendril of lightning against her and everytime he earns a shout and a shudder for his efforts. Idrilla feels like she might catch fire, every passing thrust of Solas’s hips sending her closer to combustion.
“Vhenan.” He moans low into her skin, littering open mouthed kisses on her shoulders, his own voice broken and trembling in an effort to keep its normal affliction. “Idrilla.” Solas breathes like a prayer, like her name is the only thing to keep him grounded as he continues to push them both to their limits.
Lost in sensation Idrilla answers with a sigh or a sob she couldn’t tell as the jagged noise leaves her throat before she manages an “Emma lath.” The electric sensation of Solas’s hands and the movement of his hips are quickly becoming to much for Idrilla, and it takes but once more fall of lightning to send her tumbling from the edge, clamping down on Solas as she sees stars overtake her vision.
His hips stuttering out of time, Solas grunts, his own release emptying into her, as she squeezes around him and he bites down hard on her collar, “Idrilla.” She hears as she regains her senses, her name falling from his lips in whispered reverence. “Ar lath ma vhenan.”
Idrilla laughs, breathy and high as she comes back to herself, “Ar lath ma Solas, ma emma lath.”
The soft sheets rustle as Solas stands up, and gets a cold washcloth from the standing basin in the corner of the room, which he heats in his hands before gently running it over Idrilla’s flushed skin. She sighs contentedly, turning her face towards his when he leans down to kiss her deeply. Solas breaks away after a few moments, and then tosses the cloth back into the basin, tugging the wet sheet out from under Idrilla and off the bed, dropping it into the laundry basket kept by the door.
Idrilla holds out her arms, making grabby hands at Solas as he walks back over, a warm smile decorating her face. “Come here love,” She says, reaching for the pushed up blanket at the foot of the bed, and draping it over them as Solas climbs in next to her.
The warmth of Solas’s arms as the circle around her hips is intoxicating, and Idrilla is far too tired to do anything more than soak up the feeling of tenderness the motion brings her. She turns over, burying her face into Solas’s chest, as one of his hands drags itself along her bare skin. “Sleep.” He murmurs into her hair, the tightly curled strands sticking to her scalp and forehead endearingly.
Lulled by his hands and voice, Idrilla is able to fall asleep within moments, one hand curled against Solas’s chest, the other tangled together with his resting on her hip.
Thanks for reading!
Ko-fi
#well#at least its a bit better than it was#still#my eyes are fucking burning#why did i do this#shrug emoji#dragon age#dai#solavellan#hope yall enjoyed that honestly
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