#i used to just slap whatever onto my dragons

[poop-flying]

revamped a couple of my kids! top is the original, bottom is the final. the more drastic ones are Pyroeis (left) and Anno (right). Had the skin on Pyroeis for the longest time because I didn't know what to do with coal vipera. Anno got her genes and an outfit update to better suit her role!

Pyroeis / Anno

[nc-vb]

𝐅𝐨𝐨𝐥'𝐬 𝐄𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 pt. ii

That virgin albedo and reader smut was fucking perfect, it was fucking beautiful, it was realistically awkward, I fucking loved everything in it. Now I wanna know if they manage to create a baby? I've heard some couples say they had to do 'it' multiple just to be sure. Just imagine Albedo noticing and acknowledging the almost visible baby bump every time reader visits him (Idk if it's safe for her to visit dragonspine with her condition)

Etsu, my dear, you really got in my head with this ask. I know it was like, three months ago that I promised this part two! But!! It's finally here!!!

masterlist | taglist pt. i | pt. ii | pt.iii

warnings → 18+ (minors & blank blogs dni), no explicit scenes but there’s a lot of suggestion; use of medical & anatomical terminologies; description of vomiting & nausea, & a couple of near-death experiences through cause of embarrassment; not beta'ed (i'm 'eepy (_ _  ) . . z Z).

character mentions → jean, sucrose, kaeya, aether & paimon, bennett

wc → 9.8k

Lately, you’ve dreaded mornings. Today is no different.

It hadn’t been so long ago that the sun peaking through your curtains meant just another day of peace for you and the people of Mondstadt. Gone were the days of cowering beneath the belly of a corrupted dragon and within your homes to avoid being swept away by its fierce winds— it’d been so long where you were even able to enjoy having your lunches atop the Knight’s headquarters rather than in your office; you had been grateful.

Glaring over at your window, you find yourself wishing the sun would fizzle out of existence. You’d wished your curtains could be as black as the depths of the Abyss, and that the nest of chirping birds sat outside of your window would finally “fly the coop”.

Every little sensation seems to exist solely to set you off and create a mood you’d been stuck in until late in the evenings, and every little movement had only made the strange nausea you’d been experiencing even worse than normal. It’d been for the latter reason why you’d begun to keep a large pot at your bedside, as for whatever unfair reason, you’d been struck with a case of morning sickness so debilitating that after your first attempt of crawling to the toilet bowl before last night’s midnight snack could be expelled and was expelled, you’d learned your lesson.

Still half-tucked in the sheets of your bed, you shift in discomfort, a strange burning sensation ripples beneath your tongue. In your haste to sit up, you become tangled on your way to reaching for the pot, yanking it unceremoniously from your bedside table and into your awaiting lap— and, just in time.

Eyes squeezed shut, you start heaving over the rim, chin hanging inside the bowl of the pot, and with a trembling left hand, you keep your face clear of obstacles and—

Gross, gross, gross, gross… the colour, the smell, the sound it makes from all the water you’d consumed since before falling asleep— you vomit once more from the sensory overload. Heartburn would follow indubitably afterwards; a side effect to a side effect, and no amount of medicine would subdue it.

At the very least, there has always been the calm before the storm continued, a lull in which you could get out of bed and tend to yourself before the rest of the symptoms could appear. And so, you finally rise, having swung your shaky legs over the edge of your mattress and dragging the sloshing pot along with you to dispose of its contents. You hold your breath and squint, eyes open only wide enough for you to ensure your vomit spills safely into the toilet bowl.

“Gross,” you repeat, voice rasping.

It’s been almost two weeks of this… With a face cloth you’d used from last night, you run it beneath cool water and practically slap it against your face, unflinching from the amount of water dripping from it and onto yourself. Just how much longer can it possibly continue for?

Somehow, it didn’t even occur to you the reason why you’d gotten sick so suddenly. The sudden exhaustion, the sudden aching in your chest, the sudden morning nausea— because of it, you’d been late to work almost every day since. The acting Grand Master had been sympathetic; as things have been surprisingly quiet in regards to the records department, Jean encouraged you to take your time and to rest well before attempting to work.

“We may not say it enough, but we really do rely on you, and appreciate what you do for us, ______. Please, rest well.”

Of course, you knew that they did. Some of the knights certainly might not be as vocal as others, but the sheepish smiles of apology they wear when they hand you a new pile of field reports or copies of finance charts proved enough. Even when Grand Master Varka was still around, he’d throw “thank you’s” at you like candy, too the point where it got so sickeningly sweet that you had to beg him to stop.

But Jean’s reminder of all of this, when the knights are so overextended and too tired to muster even a fake smile, is also enough. That’s why you’ve been resting as much as possible, returning immediately home when the clock tolled for the seventeenth hour, doing minimal chores around your abode in an attempt to surplus your energy and resting in bed immediately after that, so you could return to them healthy.

But is this what death feels like? Has some strange illness crept into Mondstadt? Was that sweet honey chicken from Good Hunter you ate last night not cooked thoroughly enough? Or…

Your thoughts stutter when your eyes move from your mirror to out you door, and land on a wooden board hung up above your night stand. Memories, as many as you could nail to it, resided there. Receipts from your favourite lunch dates with your friends and coworkers; a ticket from a popular opera performance you attended, put on by the famous Yun Jin; and, photos taken with the new Kamera model, gifted to you on your last birthday. Vividly, you could remember the events of each day that the pictures took place in.

The one of you and the other department heads, captains, and Grand Masters, was one you struggled to take, in the sense of timing; everyone had been everywhere, yet you managed to find a split second for them to come together for this single memory. And so you’d set the timer, ten seconds for everyone to get into position, and in the last two seconds, poor Mika had just managed to sidle into frame next to you wearing a tired, photo-ready smile.

Another photo had been Kaeya’s attempt to take a front-facing picture of himself with you, asleep at your desk, your cheek resting on the ink stamp pad— a second image had also been taken, of you waking up and taking in the situation, followed by a third of you attempting to catch Kaeya as he ran away and back to his own office (lunch was purchased as an apology, and you had made a copy of the photos for him), all strung together in chronological order.

There are several miscellaneous photos about, too, such as of you and some of the cats at the Cat’s Tail Tavern and some scenery shots from all over Mondstadt. But the one that catches your attention and instantly has your tired, thoughtless brain piecing together your symptoms is the one you’d taken on a timer of you and Albedo out front the doors of his lab, you, with your arms crossed and smiling, and he with his arms down at his sides, unsmiling, but his expression kept a warmth to it as in the picture, he’d been looking at you.

Even the thought of being the object of his affection brought heat to your cheeks. Somehow, during your illness, you managed to forget what the reason behind yours’ and Albedo’s curiosity had been — is he capable of reproducing? — and by extension, the list of symptoms you knew you had to watch out for. Considering they began almost two weeks ago now, and all you’ve done thus far is let it cripple you for half of your mornings, rather than make a visit to an apothecary or report your symptoms to either Albedo or Sucrose (who’d been brought up to speed on what the experiment entailed, and, despite her explicit embarrassment, had been asked to be available for result submissions while he remains out of the city for the next three weeks).

Maybe she’d been why you hadn’t bothered reporting anything to her— in trying to save face and spare the both of you from an awkward conversation, you’d kept your less than mild symptoms a secret from even the Acting Grand Master to make sure it didn’t get around that you were a sickly mess. Yet somehow, you’d forgotten along the way that morning sickness, of all things, is a clear sign of pregnancy. How you managed to let yourself stay ignorant these past couple of weeks frustrates you; to spare yourself even further, you easily deign to blame it on the confusion brought forth from your constant nausea. It’s been almost seven weeks since then, ______, you tell yourself. Otherwise, you’ve finally reached a point of clarity, enough to remind you of your responsibilities and how you’ve neglected them.

Even your reflection looks peeved. Or maybe it’s the lingering nausea.

You spit your soured saliva into the sink, drawing your gaze away from the mirror discouraging reflection of you and toward focusing on brushing the taste of bile and yesterday’s dinner off your tongue. Upon reentering your room once you’d finished the rest of your morning hygiene routine, you dare to gander at the small clock resting atop your windowsill, and sigh.

“Ten after eleven,” you mutter, yanking your pyjamas down your trembling legs. “A new record of tardiness.” Nude, you cross to your armoire and pull together a simple, comfortable outfit. So far, half of your wardrobe had managed to offend you by being too rough on your skin— it made you feel claustrophobic, oversensitive, and you’d wanted nothing more than to see them burnt to ashes—

A rhythmic knock on the wood of your door startles you from your flame-fueled daydream. Carefully shoving your arms through the sleeves of your shirt so as not to over-exert yourself, you make your way down the steps from the second floor, holding onto the banister to stay balanced. You end up pulling the door open halfway through the same pattern of knocking, revealing a familiar tanned face.

“Well, good morning.”

You can’t help the frown that settles deeper into your face at the rehearsed smile Kaeya wears— rehearsed for your sake, because the last time he showed up here out of the blue to check on you, you looked to be near death, and he certainly didn’t bother to hide its obviousness.

“… I think I’d rather you be grimacing at me like before,” you admit, shaking your head and stepping aside to allow him in. “You know, potentially holding back your own vomit, perhaps? Somehow, I think I’d be less offended...”

A dry, hesitant laugh escapes him as he shuts the door behind him, and almost nervously, he glances around your foyer, eyes flitting past the wooden arches and into the small kitchen, toward the mess of used dishes and pots by your sink and the numerous wrapping articles stemming from your lack of energy toward cooking— in recent times, you’d been the Good Hunter’s most loyal customer.

“Still ill, I see,” he notes quietly awhile following you back up to the second floor. Though, in your small apartment, it’s easily heard. “It hasn’t gotten any better?”

“Nope,” you mumble. A strange smell suddenly punches the air ahead of you, one that you cautiously sniff at and almost immediately, you recognize it. Having sat down on your bed again, boots in hand, you pull them on and pull up on the zippers, one by one; “I don’t know how much more I can take resting like I’ve been. I’m tired of being tired.”

“Then why not visit a doctor?”

“Because I don’t need to visit one…” Because it’s not a doctor I need to see first, you think. “Honestly… I probably know what it is, but…”

“Oh? A stomach bug, perhaps?”

You’ve never had to summon so much willpower to not laugh before as you do now.

“Yes… m-most likely.” From his place, leaning against your front door, arms crossed, and only one visible eye lidded in scrutiny at you, of which you take notice of from the corner of your own eye, you can only assume the experience hardened Cavalry Captain knows you’re hiding something before it finally clicks. “Kaeya—”

“Yes?” You scowl at his instantaneous reply.

“I should’ve asked this sooner, but I’ve been seeing you quite often at my front door lately. Just why do you keep coming over?” This time, he doesn’t immediately answer.

“… to check up on a subordinate, of course,” he finally says.

“I’m not your subordinate.”

“A subordinate.”

“I don’t belong under your regiment, nor any regiment, for that matter— I run my own department.”

“We still work quite closely together, though, wouldn’t you say? And, we’re friends.”

“Then why wasn’t that your first answer, over “subordinate”?”

“I—” he stops himself from speaking any further, lips painting a thin line across the lower half of his face.

“The truth would probably be easier,” you point out. “It’s funny, though, because you’re usually so careful about these types of things…”

“Sorry?” You hold back an annoyed breath.

“You smell like broth.” At the confused look on his face, you quickly add, “Not food broth. It’s a chemical used in laboratories. Like, Sucrose’s, for example.” And you raise an eyebrow at him. “Kaeya.”

His sigh is long and drawn out, and rather absentmindedly, he begins playing with the feathers of his cape.

“Fine. You caught me.” You scoff at his sudden petulance. “I overheard a conversation between Sucrose and Albedo from a few weeks ago… about an experiment the two of you had been involved in together.”

“A-And what about it?” you inquire hotly— Just what did he overhear?!

“I was right to assume that you wouldn’t say a word if there’d been anything to report about it— not to Sucrose, at least. Albedo, however… Well, I’m sure I’m not the only one to have noticed, but the two of you have been thicker than a pair of thieves lately, even more so than usual. I don’t think I’ve seen him so reluctant to have to return to Dragonspine before.”

While you wish you could argue each and every one of his observations — damn that Kaeya and his stupidly keen eye! — even you had to admit that the chief alchemist had been acting increasingly out of character. From his task to Sucrose, to short handwritten letters delivered to you every other day meant to ask for any news, and even the small argument the two of you had gotten into over him remaining in Mondstadt to watch over you, instead— Kaeya insinuating your sudden closeness to him isn’t far off at all, which is exactly the opposite of what you’d hoped would happen.

“… obviously you visited Sucrose for a reason,” you say after a minute of silent deliberation, “and clearly it’d been for a long enough time that you now smell like a portable laboratory. How much did you overhear that day? Because for you to go to her out of curiosity, it must’ve been because you heard enough.”

Kaeya clears his throat lightly, and to your horror, his own brand of blush rises atop his sharp cheeks. “That… indeed, is the case.” Lips parted to speak, you struggle to even find the proper words to say, but only the most uncouth sputtering is conjured. Not knowing what your reaction will be, Kaeya steps forward, hands raised in defence of himself, “Don’t be embarrassed—”

“”Don’t be embarrassed”?!” you exclaim back at him— you instantly reel, your head spinning from having suddenly raised your voice. “… t… there’s nothing more embarrassing than this.”

“Just… stay calm, ______…” Kaeya shakes his head, an awkward chuckle tearing itself from its throat. “I… For once, I’m at a loss for words…”

“You say this like it’s a bad thing,” you mutter.

“I suppose it’s not… but… I’m simply… surprised. Can I ask why?”

“You just said you were at a loss for words!” you grumble. Pushing yourself off your bed, you snatch up your satchel from the end corner bedpost and your cloak from the standing coat rack, and move Kaeya and yourself in the direction of the downstairs exit.

“But why all of a sudden like that? Really, I could say it isn’t like you, but it’s truly not like Albedo at all—””We got curious,” you hiss, interrupting his speculation.

“Of what?”

“None of your business, that’s what.”

“Of what having sex feels like?” You nearly drop your house key, your hands trembling. “After all, you did once tell me that you were still a—”

“Sure, Kaeya, that’s exactly what the curiosity was all about! Not that I couldn’t have gone and experimented with anybody else or anything like that.” Hoping that by his silence, your answer has placated him, you take the time in the quiet to finally, successfully, lock your apartment. You’re quick to travel down the staircase, each step creaking loudly beneath you as you move, and stirring Kaeya from his thoughts.

“No, that wouldn’t make sense for the good alchemist to do,” he mumbles behind you, “so then it must have something to do with his research? Oh. You did just say “experiment”, didn’t you? Hm… an aphrodisiac, perhaps?”

“Archons alive…”

“Yes, yes— did he make you drink anything? Eat anything? A potion to improve one’s libido— now that would be a fascinating experiment.”

“That sounds like a terrible thing to make,” you shoot back, shaking your head at him. “You want a stronger libido?”

Kaeya chuckles at you, and you immediately realize you’ve spoken incorrectly.

“Are you implying that yours is strong enough? Or, his? How did he perform, anyhow? I can’t imagine he’s had much practice.”

“Oh, not quite so unlike yourself, right?” Kaeya chokes out a cough at your knowing glance. “”Mondstadt’s number one bachelor”— do they know you’ve yet to even enter a relationship? Talking about a stronger libido… Perhaps you should use the one you have now and go from there? Or, attempt courting someone first— Barbatos knows you already have a plethora of fans waiting for an opportunity to jump your bones—!”

Rather harshly, he’d reached next to him to clasp a hand over your mouth and behind your head, an attempted non-nervous laugh fleeing past gritted teeth and a fake smile— the fellow knight that passes the two of you by whilst on his morning patrol raises an eyebrow and shakes his head, secretly curious, but not enough so for him to desire receiving any similar strange behaviours from the Ordo Favonius’ Cavalry Captain as you, their records keeper, just had.

“Suppose it’s a bit too early for that kind of talk, hm?” Beneath a clammy palm, you can’t help but snicker at him. Hypocrite.

“Maybe,” and you drag his hand away. “I know you’re a busy man and all, Kaeya, but there’s no harm in pursuing a relationship, or even something more casual if that’s your fancy.”

The two of you manage to sigh in unison in time with beginning your ascent to headquarters, yours sounding more relaxed now that you’d managed to subdue Kaeya’s curiosity. But it’s not like you couldn’t understand it— if you were in his position, you’d likely be nosey about it, too.

“There’s just… no one available for my interest, is all,” Kaeya relents. “And besides, who has time for new relationships, with all the work to do in fixing up Mondstadt?”

“Hm, not even with that Traveler? It seemed like you two hit it off as friends fairly easily. I don’t see why—”

“-_____!”

In your attempt to begin matchmaking your friend, and your remaining sickly stupor that had you leaning into him, you don’t immediately register that it’d been your name to be called until it’s shouted once more. You flinch, head snapping up to the top step in front of headquarters where an… unfortunately familiar face stands.

“S-Sucrose,” you end up stammering, and your entire body jerks to a stop. “W-What are you—? I-I’m… surprised to see you outside the laboratory…”

Quickly, you hustle up the rest of the steps, and though it leaves you winded, you’re at least energized enough by the embarrassed heat that flooded you from Kaeya’s own knowing look as he followed the two of you down the cobbled street.

“I visited your office to find you, but one of the guards said you hadn’t arrived yet today. I got worried, a-and came to find you, but it seems Captain Kaeya found you first. But you look terrible, ______— I-I mean! I-I didn’t mean to say it like that, I—”

“No, no, you’re right; I do look terrible,” you murmur. “I… It’s something I’d actually like to speak to you about, Sucrose…”

“Oh? If it’s a cold, I do have a special recipe I once created, though it will take a few hours to brew, and I believe I am out of Slime Concentrate…”

“W-What a shame it is, then, that you’re out of Slime Concentrate…” You hold back the gag you’d almost released upon recalling the experiment you and Albedo performed after the experiment— What a texture… “But no, it’s not… a cold. It’s actually about what you and Albedo spoke of a couple of weeks ago.”

“A couple of weeks ago…” Sucrose pauses at the bottom of the stairs to headquarters, a hand on her chin, and while still lost in her memory recall, her skin tone begins to clash with her mint green hair. “Oh!! About… the experiment you and… Albedo… c-conducted, right?” You nod, albeit hesitantly. Kaeya hides his chuckling with another cough. “Then, we probably should head back inside to the laboratory… Though, I would’ve asked you to come with me there, anyway.”

“Hm? What for?”

“Well… because Albedo is here in Mondstadt today.”

You could have fainted. You should have fainted— it might’ve gotten you out of having to face not only Sucrose, but the man you both dreaded having to see, and desired to see almost painfully so.

The time the two of you spent in his mountainside laboratory had been lengthened by how severe the squall raging outside it had become. You’d thought yourself clever for having thought to pack so aggressively, being warned of Dragonspine’s unpredictability by one of your coworkers upon mentioning your intent to visit Albedo there. And so, half a day became half a week, the two of you surviving off of the squishy treats you’d brought along as a gift, hearty stew made from what ingredients Albedo had left near the entrance to his laboratory, and an assortment of dried fruits you’d prepared the week prior in preparation for your journey.

The events of what had transpired over the course of those three days and nights, varied. That non-freezing adventurer’s water you had theorized over, and that Albedo had concocted a solution and balanced a formula for, had been completed faster than you had expected. With his next planned experiment put on hold until visibility improved, he thought to fill his time with you.

“There isn’t a guarantee that doing this once is enough for the sperm and the egg to take,” he’d explained. “I once read that persistent copulation is sometimes necessary in receiving positive results… If you feel you’re well-rested enough, shall we go again?”

… and again, and again, and again…

So deeply lost in your own thoughts, your mind’s eyes replay those shared moments, recalling just how unexpectedly lascivious Albedo had grown since having his first taste of sexual intimacy with you— no, that’s incorrect. The sudden change in his expressions, from the usual cat-like curiousness you’d been accustomed to seeing in him, to the purest form of lust and desire upon receiving your affection, true affection, and not emotions forced by the parameters of an experiment— the change in the Chalk Prince had been instantaneous, and it had been something you could never deny. You, nor anyone else who has crossed paths with the alchemist, has ever witnessed anything so lewd and wanton from him.

And you, alone, had been the honoured one in his reciprocation.

It doesn’t even register that you’d entered the Knights of Favonius’s headquarters until you bump into a soft object. Blinking quickly, you realize you’d run into Kaeya from behind, simultaneously taking in the familiar chess flooring pooled around your feet. In its recent cleaning, you spot a bit of your reflection through a black tile and quickly recognize the expression you wear to be of a flustered nature.

“Hm?” Kaeya glances behind him and at you in time to catch you rubbing at your cheeks. “You alright, ______?”

“Yep, and I don’t want to talk about it,” you’re quick to respond. Eyes flit across your face and with a shake of his head, Kaeya snickers. “Sucrose, is Albedo in the lab with you today?”

“When I left him to find you, he had still been in his office,” she explains from ahead, “waiting for… you.”

“Oh,” is all that you manage to say.

“B-But, I figure that I should ask for a blood sample from you today, since it’s been a little over two weeks… Albedo wasn’t… happy, that you haven’t been reporting in anything, j-just to warn you…”

“Well!” You jump at the abruptness of your male companion, hand over your chest to comfort your startled heart. “I suppose I should be saying reporting to our Acting Grand Master for late duty,” Kaeya says. Your scowl, it being your first instinct to send one his way, quickly morphs into an expression of surprise.

“What? This wasn’t your break? Don’t tell me you just skipped out on working, Kaeya? Wait, no— you used me as an excuse to skip out on working, didn’t you? Wait, even worse! You’ve done this eight times in two weeks! Kaeya!”

He peers down at you, and in his failure to mask his amusement, “I was simply performing a good deed on a quiet day, where my talents would have been wasted sitting behind a desk to write a non-existent report. And look at that! I saved you the trouble of having to file it!”

“Quiet days, you mean? And, it’s my job to file reports,” you grumble at him, sighing. “If not for your actual talents as a knight, I would never understand how you became a captain…” With a sigh, you finally relent. “… I should check in with Jean, too, before I go with you, Sucrose.”

“Sure.” She nods. “I’ll meet you in there.”

Eyes stuck on her retreating form, Kaeya has to nudge you back into focus.

“Now who’s using who as an excuse?”

With your left hand’s knuckles stinging from where it connected with Kaeya’s clothed bicep, and Kaeya aggressively rubbing at the very same spot, the two of you enter the Grand Master’s office a moment later after receiving permission to enter from the female voice inside.

“______,” Jean greets you, rising from her seat and rounding her desk to meet you and Kaeya. “I’m glad to see you’re looking a little better than how I’d left you yesterday. Are you feeling any better?”

Your chuckle is dry. “I wish I could report that this was the case, ma’am, but seeing as I’m this late today, well…”

“That’s… a fair point. The good news is, things have been rather quiet here in terms of any reports, so please don’t work yourself ragged trying to get them all done in one day?”

“I—” your sentence catches in your throat, and instead, you laugh again, knowing full well of your intentions to completely them before you had to return home again. “Yes, ma’am; I’ll take my time.”

“Good. Then, you are dismissed; I also hear Albedo is looking for you?” You nod. Jean smiles warmly at you one last time and nods before directing her attention onto your blue-haired escort. “As for you, Kaeya…”

The man gives you a fleeting look of desperation, not having expected Jean to actually start chastising him. You offer a slight shrug and a short wave of your hand before fleeing the office in search of Sucrose.

Once or twice, I could understand, but almost ten and without telling our Acting Grand Master? Out loud and away from your thoughts, you click your tongue mock-disapprovingly, but in fact, you were utterly touched that Kaeya would risk reprimand just to check on you. You hadn’t asked him to, after all, and yes, he’d just been a good friend for doing so, but his choice, his punishment. I hope he doesn’t actually get in trouble, though… not for me. Well, maybe I’ll treat him to something nice later as thanks.

You’re quick to climb the grand staircase within headquarters, taking a sharp right up the stairs to the second floor to the alchemy wing. There, and two floors above your records office, one would find both the laboratory and Albedo’s office, and thankfully, for safety reasons, there’d been nearly a whole half building of difference between even those two rooms. Any accident within the laboratory would give time to spare any materials and or documents within Albedo’s office with a simple defence rune activated by a danger trigger, courtesy of the Knights of Favonius’ Magical Inquiry Division Captain.

The laboratory would be the first room one would encounter on their venture into the west wing, the door adorned with a simple sign of caution to those wanting to enter it. Not that many did besides the two people under Albedo’s apprenticeship; Kaeya, apparently, whenever he feels nosey enough; Grand Master Varka, when he’d still been in Mondstadt, but more likely for his own personal curiosities of alchemy; Jean, as the Acting Grand Master, and actually for the purpose of her duties; and, you, whenever you’d been in search of Albedo, also for your own personal reasons.

Quite suddenly, your chest decides to squeeze when you’d reached for the handle. Wasn’t it just anxiety? You’re only visiting Sucrose; you won’t be seeing Albedo until after your testing gets done. So then, a premonition?

Having dawdled enough, you twist the knob and shove the door forward. Heavy, it creeks upon its hinges to announce your arrival. Not bothering to open it all the way, you slip in through the few feet wide space and shut the door behind you with a bang. You spin on your heel, an apology hanging off your tongue for Sucrose for the loud interruption, when the air in your chest catches in your throat— at least this time, it isn’t due to the scent of broth.

“Oh, ______. There you are.”

You startle easy, greeted not by the green-haired alchemist you’d been entrusted to, but by the man who entrusted you to her, and swallow harshly, the flesh of your cheeks quick to bloom with warmth.

“A-Albedo,” you stammer, hand pressed against your chest when you exhale. “Hi.”

“Hello. I was about to come looking for you; Sucrose mentioned that you arrived and met with Jean. I was just about to come and find you.”

“O-Oh, I…” You mentally curse at your unintelligibility, but his appearance had caught you just that off-guard. “Sorry, I— I was expecting Sucrose.”

“I had a task I needed to delegate that she has assisted me with before, and she offered to assist me again. So instead, I’ll be overseeing this… belated check-up.”

Your lips instantly drop into a tight-lipped frown. He’s upset, you realize, tiptoeing further into the laboratory. Ugh, I should’ve just come sooner. He can probably already tell something’s wrong—

“Come in; take a seat here, please.” You do, having just passed him as he sets up multiple objects on a metal tray, shuffling back on your behind until you hit the backrest. Albedo spins, clutching the tray tight to transfer it to the table closer to you, and his eyes flit upwards to examine your pallor. “______, you look pale.”

“Oh, I’ve been a bit under the weather lately,” you tell him. Spotting a stethoscope on the tray, you begin willing your heart to calm down. It doesn’t.

“For how long? Sucrose didn’t mention anything in her report,” Albedo hums, glancing to a clipboard. “It only mentioned that you had taken time off.”

“Only Jean and Kaeya knew about this, and Kaeya had only found out due to his own curiosities… And, um, for about… two weeks now...”

There is a brief pause from the man that has you correcting your already-stiff posture, your spine hitting the wooden backrest hard enough to have you jolt even straighter— “I’m sorry. I’m… I’m sorry I lied in those letters to you. Honestly, I… I don’t know why I decided to do that. I didn’t want you to worry about me, o-or something like that… I’m just… I’m sorry.”

Albedo finally looks to you, his eyes having been pointed down at his clipboard for so long that you began to fear something potentially greater than disappointment from him. What’s worse than disappointing Albedo, though? a part of you wonders woefully, and it had been right. Because his promise to you that he would not leave you on your own through any of this venture was made with a conviction that blazed brighter than the fire burning in his caveside laboratory the night your fools’ experiment took place.

And once more, like when you’d assumed wrongly of him that same night, you’d managed to slight him again by denying him your candor.

A comforting hand extends toward you all the same, to rest itself on one of your shoulders.

“If, subconsciously, you’re thinking yourself to be some kind of burden to me by reporting every little change in your health, or if I’ve burdened you by tasking you with reporting to me, then… I apologize.”

Your shoulders sag at the realization, and you raise a hand to hold his.

“Albedo, n-no, it’s nothing like that at all— I promise. I just… really didn’t want you to worry about me when you’re so busy, especially as something as small as this. I was going to tell Sucrose today about everything, so she could justify me bothering you with a detailed report.”

“I like hearing from you,” he says, and squeezes your hand in return. “No matter how small… I like being able to stay in touch when I’m so far away from Mondstadt. Even hearing about the most mundane things of your day, I find joy in. But hearing that you’ve been ill and on your own in taking care of yourself… I would’ve come back sooner.”

“But that’s what I mean. What if it’s just a cold? Then it’s nothing I haven’t already handled before, and I would have just inconvenienced you.”

“And what if it’s not?” he counters— you knew he would, the second you stopped speaking. “Symptoms of influenza or symptoms of pregnancy— should it matter?”

“I… no… but also, yes— I-I get where you’re coming from here, Albedo, but the second I would find out the results, you know I would’ve contacted you immediately.”

Albedo shakes his head. “Your well-being has always been important to me— now, even more so, and for obvious reasons. It doesn’t matter what it might be. If you’re feeling unwell, please tell me.”

“I…” You weren’t going to argue, even before you’d been on the receiving end from his stern expression, but you go tight-lipped, only spewing the answer you know he wants to hear. Because he’d been right, after all. There hasn’t been a time where he hadn’t shown concern for you— not before that day, not when you’d been scaling Dragonspine and braving both the cold and one of its resident Frostarm Lawachurls, and not when in the throes. And you couldn’t bring yourself to deny him that. In fact, finally accepting the truth of it, yourself, “Okay.”

Partial frustration transforms into a look of relief on Albedo, and in response, you exhale, experiencing the same sense.

“I’m going to take a listen to your heart, now.” Albedo pulls his hands from yours to grab the stethoscope from his tray, your own curling into your lap in wait for him to begin examining you. Earpieces fitted gently into the curve of his ears, “Could you lift your shirt for me?”

“Y-Yes…” You pull at the material of your blouse until it untucks from the waistband of your slacks, holding it high above your navel and sitting a little more upright when he presses the larger of the two circles beneath your left breast.

His fingertips, neutral in temperature like the rest of him, brush across your abdomen in absentminded wait— you’re not sure if he realizes he’s doing it or not, but you don’t ask, already still so nerve-wracked at seeing him sooner than you’d planned. It hadn’t only been out of the guilt from not keeping him apprised on you that you weren’t ready to see him— no, it had been the fact that throughout your illness, and despite the effects your symptoms had on you, you just couldn’t stop replaying your time with him behind your eyes.

Albedo’s hand shifts the diaphragm along your skin to rest against the sideward swell of your right breast.

“Your heart rate just increased,” he notes aloud. You swallow harshly, and avert your eyes when he tries raising his gaze to yours. “______?”

“… it’s not because of my symptoms,” you murmur, and busy yourself in watching the gentle simmering of some green liquid over on the furthest table.

“… would you indulge my curiosity if I were to ask, then, what it’s from?”

Your lower lip quivers as hot anxiety courses beneath your flesh, and you pin the trembling thing down between chittering teeth.

Wordlessly, Albedo continues, a haggard silence having come down on you and your forced patience. He listens to your uncooperative heart from three more points before he shifts behind you, only to pause.

“You can lower your shirt on your end, ______,” he says. You nod, releasing the material and letting it fall back into place. “I’m going to listen to your breathing now.”

What awful timing, you irritably muse, as when he lifts your shirt up without proper warning, your breathing hitches. And instead of pressing the stethoscope against you again, you feel the cool relief of his palm on your ribcage; a gesture meant to comfort.

“You’re extremely warm… ______, are you in any pain?”

It does anything but.

“Your breathing is a bit shallow, too— have you been experiencing any shortness of breath?”

Because I’m ill? “No,” you answer. Because of you? “Yes.”

When Albedo hums in contemplation — a habit long since formed — you immediately note his confusion, and sigh at him.

“I’m tired,” you inform him. His hand draws away from you, a slow drag across flaming hot skin. “Constantly. I don’t normally sleep in because of work, but I’ve been unable to wake up unless I get a minimum of ten hours of rest. I have migraines so often that I just sleep even more. I ordered traditional Liyuen medicine to be delivered last week and it’s been my saving grace. My lower back… is always so sore, and I’ve used the bathroom more in the past two weeks than I might have in an entire month. And if I even smell Fisherman’s Toast again, I will vomit. Oh, I’ve been doing a lot of that, too,” you add. “Like clockwork, every day at eleven in the morning.

“But my shallow breathing, fast-beating heart have nothing to do with those.”

You heave one last heavy breath before slumping back against your chair, but instead of solely meeting the backrest, you hit the plush of Albedo’s chest. There’s a tickle against your cheek when he leans forward over your shoulder, his bangs dangling to invade your space, a gesture you return when you lean further into him; you reach up for him, targeting his closest ear, and pulling the stethoscope’s earpiece from it.

“It’s you,” you whisper. “I’m hot and bothered because of what you did to me… and I can’t get it out of my mind.”

The stethoscope comes untethered from his opposite ear, clattering to the floor; you hear the glass shatter. You’re more surprised that with his expert reflexes, Albedo didn’t bother to catch it— but you can understand why, since you’d just unbuttoned and slipped off your blouse with your lips pressed to his jaw.

“______,” Albedo calls to you— shaky hands find their way to your shoulders, your biceps; they anchor to you so strongly that you can’t tell if he’s trying to encourage you or stop you. “______…”

“What, ‘bedo?” You pull your shirt away, dropping it to the side. “You don’t want to?”

“I… We… We should… take blood samples first…”

“First?” you echo, leaning forward out of his grasp and glancing back to see his eyes blown wide and his pale cheeks flushed like the reddest rose. “I don’t think an hour difference will make the probability of me being pregnant by you any higher or lower…”

You turn back around, and rise out of the seat to instead straddle the stool. Draping your arms over his shoulders, you pull him close, and smile. He gulps.

“Help me out with that belt again, would you?”

Pure silence coats the entirety of the laboratory now, a stark, black and white contrast to what made up that same hour spent filling it with such lascivious noise— even making the comparison after noting the difference has pink crawling across Albedo’s cheeks again. It’s quiet again, after all. And in waiting for the results of the test done to your blood, there hadn’t been much else he could distract himself with.

You made it difficult, after all. Not in an aimless sense, of course— sure, the very first time the two of you engaged in an act of coitus, your inexperience shined, one guiding the other and vice-versa into the throes of pleasure and painless copulation. There were several times post-”loss-of-virginity” that you ended up taking the lead, and not for the fault of either of you, but there’d been something about you taking charge that had Albedo’s head swimming with thoughts of you while he’d been on his lonesome in Dragonspine, waiting for a proper reason to return to Mondstadt without being questioned— he would return for you, after all. In a heartbeat.

In his attempt to shake off any further inappropriate thoughts, his head tossing left to right, he catches your attention with a raise of your brow.

“Something on your mind?” you muse at him, unable to hold back a chuckle at his deadpan stare your way. His pursed lips and rouged fleshed are a dead giveaway.

“Nothing worth mentioning,” he’s quick to reply, voice cracking partway through. You laugh again, a little more heartily, when he moves away from you and toward the desk. “… the solution should be ready to use now.”

“Okay.”

According to Albedo, blood testing for the purpose of pregnancy discovery isn’t particularly common— in fact, it’s an entirely new concept that not many have adopted. It would certainly change how the medical practices across Teyvat would treat similar cases, but according to him, it would be a while until it could be universally adopted. The more data recorded using it, the sooner it would.

Two experiments in one, you think as you watch Albedo use a dropper to collect the liquid to drop into the vial of your blood. He sets it aside, grabbing for a thin glass stir stick of sorts to combine the two.

You find yourself watching him, for his reactions, rather than for whatever reaction the solution would cause. The flutter of eyelashes as he blinks in incredulity; every small twitch in the muscles around his jaw as his lips part dubiously; how his shining turquoise eyes have somehow managed to grow a little brighter, a little wider, a little more… more…?

“______… look.” He gestures down at the table with a nod of his head, but and you have to tear your own eyes off of him. Within the vial, it is no longer the dark red you remember it had been only seconds ago— considering the solution had been clear, the sudden change in hue made zero sense.

“What… am I supposed to be seeing?” you ask, eyes narrowed at the vial. “Why is it blue?”

“The colour change,” he explains, breathless. “It wouldn’t have changed if… you weren’t pregnant.”

“I…” You look back to Albedo, eyebrows teetering the border of your forehead in disbelief. His head whips your way, his own eyelids blown as physically far apart as possible. “It… worked…?”

“It… did.”

You reach up for him, a single hand rising from your side to hold onto his shoulder. Too many emotions have made themselves known to you, all too quickly to register without dizzying you; Albedo holds your hand in its place before it can slip away, his eyes never leaving yours.

He can tell how deeply you’re allowing yourself to process the news. Maybe, he figures, you thought it wouldn’t work at all. To not believe in the possibility after not only the time spent together up in Dragonspine, but all of the time shared with one another before then and in the past three years— maybe, you were still concerned that he might not live up to the promise made to be at your side through not only the experiment, and not only through the pregnancy, itself, but for the years after.

You never questioned anything past said promise. You never assumed he’d go and break it on you, either. If anything, him being busy with his assigned duties, personal research, and Klee (of course) hadn’t been something you would hold against him, and quite comparatively, you already had much more time on your hands thanks to your early morning to late afternoon position. And being that you are the lead of your own department, it would be so simple to bring your child into work with you. You’d have your office in the records department set up to your convenience. And, if you ever needed a moment to yourself, you’re quite sure your fellow Knights would have no problem doting over your child in your place. And with any luck, the child would be mild-mannered like its father, and as it grew older, it would be inquisitive, insatiably curious, and indubitably kind.

No, you could only be so honoured in having a child by this wonderful man.

“I-I…” It should go without saying, considering how ecstatic you’d been to hear Albedo reciprocate your affection, albeit in the chalk prince’s typical brand, how happy you are to learn that the experiment is to bear such sweet fruit. But it startles him to see a tear slipping down each of your cheeks.

“______?” Without hesitating, as he might have done two months ago, the alchemist reaches for your face, brushes them away, and holds it in the palms of his gloves. You sniffle, a small, choked noise quick to follow, before you laugh. “… ______?”

“These… These are happy tears, I swear,” you say, your grin between his hands only a little compromised by how intensely he holds you. “I-I’m so happy right now that… I don’t know how to properly express it with words. Hehe…” You raise your hands from your lap to cradle his cheeks. “It worked. You can procreate! Haha!”

Albedo’s gaze averts from yours, and beneath your bare hands, you feel his skin grow warm before you see it tint pink. Still giggling, you lean forward, fitting your lips between his smiling, parted ones, before they travel along and up to his forehead. Hands dropping to loop around your waist, your own shift when you wrap your arms around his neck, squeezing him tightly.

“We’re going to have a baby,” you whisper. A knock on the door of the laboratory stirs the two of you, both pulling away to find the other grinning.

“Yes. We are.”

“I told him that it wasn’t necessary to go out of his way and commission the Guild for this— please; I’ll pay you three for your troubles, but this really isn’t necessary!”

“What do you mean it “isn’t necessary”?!” You sigh, the naturally high voice of the Traveler’s floating companion somehow a little louder to you than usual. “Walking around like this even outside of the city walls is dangerous for you!”

“Paimon, dear, I think you’ve seen me sitting behind a desk for far too long, since you’ve forgotten that I am a qualified Knight!”

“But it’s a little different now, isn’t it?” Bennett offers— you turn your head to the boy so fast that he winces. “I-I mean, you’ve got two people to protect, r-right?”

“I just went up Dragonspine last month; that’s not that long ago,” you try to reason, but even Aether puts his foot down, hands on his hips and golden eyes lidded by, what? Annoyance? Disapproval? Your own frustration blinds you to be able to tell the difference.

“You weren’t so obviously big last month, and even that was a risk you shouldn’t have taken,” he says. “Albedo wasn’t happy about it.”

“Yeah! He’s right!” You huff at her. “Albedo’s just trying to take care of you when he’s not here to do it himself!”

“And isn’t this a good way to do it, too?” Bennett says, grinning. “We protect you, you stay safe, we get paid, and Albedo gets to eat those delicious-looking sweets you made him! It’s a total win-win situation!”

“If I make you some, will you let me go alone?”

“No,” both Aether and Paimon chorus. You click your tongue at them, your frustration thickening.

“Don’t be selfish like this, ______,” Aether adds, and just as you’re about to chastise him— “Do you really think Albedo’s the only one worried about you?”

“If it helps in any way,” Katheryne calls from across the street. You all turn toward her, you folding your arms and resting them across your swollen gut. “This commission is backed by the entire Knights of Favonius— the Acting Grand Master signed it, herself.”

“What?! That Jean, I swear— what a worrywart!” You groan, loudly, startling unsuspecting passerby’s and a hopeful Bennett. “Fine! Fine. I’ll let you join me. The… company might be nice, anyway.”

“Glad you see it our way,” Aether says, nodding. He gestures away from himself, a slight bowing to his posture when he bends, and Paimon copying him with a giggle. “After you.”

“You all are… too much.” Clutching your cloth lunch bag just a little tighter, you stalk past the three of them, shaking your head and managing a thin smile when you hear their soft chuckling.

“Hey, ______?” You glance back at Bennett, who grins guiltily and sheepishly at you. “Would you still make some more desserts for us after…?”

“Mm… no.”

“Aw, man…”

You hadn’t been wrong; the company was nice. Compared to the usual time taken, thanks to a couple of element users being able to traverse through the various Waypoints of Mondstadt, the time taken was cut significantly short.

Typically, your journey through Windrise and up past the Adventure’s Guild’s checkpoint is a comfortably solemn one. Being able to reflect on oneself and enjoying the fresh air, warm sun, and calm winds that the autumn months bring along is always so refreshing. Indeed, it beats being cooped up in the records room where only artificial light existed.

This excursion was something you’d been looking forward to since two weeks ago, when you’d first planned it. Another recipe crossed your path thanks to a convenient mention of it within a Knight’s report— and their verbal gushing over it. In you receiving one-and-a-half days off each week, you often spend the “half” bit catching up on chores and errands, while the full day is spent doing whatever you needed to reset your mind after such a long week.

Lately, if not preoccupied with other plans, you’d been bringing Albedo new dishes to try. This had been your usual routine, normally using him as a test subject of sorts whenever he’d been visiting Mondstadt, with the occasional trek into Dragonspine if you got too restless. This normalcy had gone on for a while, with no question of it by Albedo. Of course, this had only been because you’d managed to hide the fact that your stomach could no longer fit within the parameters of either your blouses or your turtlenecks.

The fascination had been instant— as was the scolding. Albedo didn’t hold back, either. The only reason he stopped was due to Klee’s unexpected arrival.

"Don’t think this conversation is over, ______. You endangering yourself to deliver me food is worth getting upset about, under normal circumstances and especially in your current condition.”

In hindsight, contrary to your point in that argument, it was slightly silly. He would’ve returned to Mondstadt eventually and you could have given it to him then. Was it the hormones affecting your ability to think straight? While Albedo and one of the church’s sisters did mention it could be a possibility, you clearly weren’t heeding the warning of watching for any impulsivity from you. Traveling somewhere so dangerous? Alone? With no Vision? If that didn’t scream “impulsive”…

Despite the sheer cold of the place, you took great joy and pleasure of visiting it if it meant being able to see Albedo. And as you turned the corner from the Waypoint closest to his cliffside laboratory to see Albedo’s back turned to the cave’s mouth, once more sketching away on a new canvas of his, your grin is uncontainable. You turn, gesturing at Paimon and the two boys tasked with delivering you to Albedo to hold back for “just a moment” so you could attempt to surprise him, but to your surprise, and you yelp when you realize it— he’s already looking out of the cave mouth and at you, hand raised in a gentle wave.

Defeated once more, just like you’d been that day, you trudge forward after giving your farewells to the trio when they announce that their “work is done”, and greet Albedo where he stands, waiting for you with open arms.

“That was very sly of you, you know,” you start, “submitting that commission to the Guild without me knowing.” Gratefully, you fall into his chest, wrapping your arms around him tightly with him doing the same in return. “Imagine my confusion when those three showed up at my doorstep, all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.”

“I knew they would be the best to get the job done,” Albedo says, releasing you to encourage you over to the bed. “There are few I trust as much as the Traveler to protect you. And that Bennett, I’d heard, works well with him.”

“I’d have to agree with you there— I’d never seen two people so enthusiastic about taking down a Hydro slime, and so quickly, too.”

Albedo smiles, and the two of you sit on the edge of his bed.

“I see you’ve brought along some more food for me,” he says, glancing at the bag still slung over your arm with slight disdain.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d ever had this before, but one of the Knights’ reports mentioned it to be extremely popular over in Sumeru.”

“______, I didn’t say that out of curiosity. I’m still upset about your choice to journey here the last time; we never had a proper chance to discuss things.”

“Let me save you the trouble of worrying, then,” you say, patting his knee. “I don’t think it will be safe for me and the baby to come up here from this point on.”

“And what brought you to that conclusion?” Albedo inquires. Grabbing for the zipper of your coat, you pull it down, revealing to him the swell hidden beneath your thick turtleneck. “My… It’s bigger than the last time you were here…”

“It’s been almost a month since we’ve seen each other, so, naturally. But no... Coming here with Aether, Paimon, and Bennett worrying about me with every other step I'd take was a bit of an eye-opener. I'm not just responsible for myself, now. I have another life within me to take care of. In a few months' time, it will be no different to have them in my arms rather than in my body."

Maybe it’s because your adrenaline is finally plateauing, and your heart rate is dropping on account of you finally resting, but it seems like the baby realizes it, too, and it begins to move within you.

“Ohh…” You jerk forward, hands spastically reaching for Albedo’s to steady yourself— his eyes fly wide open, holding on tightly to you in return.

“______? Are you alright? Do you need to lie down?”

You shake your head, wearing a thin smile that confuses Albedo.

“I nearly forgot you haven’t felt it yet, since you’d been stuck up here for a while. Here,” you say, taking one of his hands, flipping it, and in pulling up your turtleneck, you reveal your bare stomach to him, swollen and… twitching?

“This far along, a baby will start to move, and it’ll even start kicking. Put your hand here, and wait. I think it has a favourite spot to kick, too.”

“Is it painful?” he’s quick to ask, not missing a beat when, as you predicted, the baby kicks you, only inches below your ribs.

“Just a little uncomfortable. It actually feels nicer having your hand on me than just my own.”

Wordlessly, Albedo adds his other hand to the surface of your belly; a content hum escapes you.

“It’s still quite… surreal to me,” he mumbles, his thumbs rolling over where one of the baby’s appendages extend outward. “That this is something that’s truly happening.”

“I never expected to be having a baby this way… or at all, any time soon, really, but… now that it is happening, I…” You chuckle, unable to find a proper word. “It is happening, Albedo. Our baby will be born soon.”

“Once this solution cures, I’ll be able to leave it in Sucrose’s care while I take my leave.”

“Your leave?” you repeat. He nods.

“I’ll be in Mondstadt for at least the remainder of your pregnancy,” he explains, tone cheery. “Any work that needs to be done will be done in our home laboratory, though it should be relatively quiet on that aspect of things. I’ll be able to focus on taking care of you and the baby, myself.”

“That… would be nice.” You’re still smiling at him when he looks up from your belly. “Albedo?” you gently call, raising a hand to caress his one cheek. “Are you alright?”

Albedo nods, holding your cool hand still against his fast-warming cheeks.

“Yes. I’m just…” He chuckles at you. “I’m a happy fool.”

Tumblr asks: kiddo extras! ✰ ✰

𝗧𝗮𝗴𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁

for those who might be confused about my url! i am formerly @/niicevibe, but my blog was permanently locked on me. if i have your url wrong, let me know! sorry if i couldn't properly tag some of y'all.

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© nc-vb/niicevibe 2022-2023 please don’t repost! reblogs & comments are always appreciated.

[jaimemes]

back from a shower after the Hide-n-Seek event today and guys i NEED to talk about the little guy i met today

so i was out with @aspens-dragons right. and we were in this muddy wet area of the sanctuary. lots of cute pokemon chilling right. momoto is just running around havin a great time on the hills nearby. my pants are getting soaked and covered in mud but i dont mind much its whatever cuz im talkin with aspen.

suddenly i feel something cold and wet slap the back of my head. it starts dripping down my neck and onto my white shirt. mud.

i whip my head around to find where the mud came from and i see… well, a couple pokemon, really. a flamigo preening itself as it gives me the stink eye. a wooper flopping around happily in the mud. a croagunk with its hands behind its back looking around nonchalantly as it rocks back and forth on its feet trying to be inconspicuous.

i turn back to aspen as he profusely apologizes for what happened (while trying not to laugh) but honestly i found it more funny than anything else! but as i turn around i see a glob of brown out of the corner of my eye. smack! right into aspen’s face!

but this time i saw him. the croagunk. with a shit eating grin on his face.

oh it was ON!

i scooped up a glob of mud and threw one back at him and long story short i started a mud war between the three of us and came back to my dorm a muddy sopping wet mess.

but tbh? i had a lot of fun. love that guy. 10/10 would do that again.

[garricks4thwingqueen]

My New Pillow Part 2

   Word Count: 1382

Tigger warnings: NSFW mentions, Swearing

  synopsis: This is a continuation that was much requested for Dain Aetos X reader My New Pillow which can be found here: Part 1                                          

   

Part 2 

                                                       Dain’s POV 

   I soaked in the warmth of the shower. God I loved that woman and what she did to me. How she made me feel. How she made me feel like home, how she made me feel that I actually belonged somewhere and was actually capable of loving someone or learning to love someone and truly care about them. This is a new side of you, I like it. Cath cut into my mind. I rolled my eyes mentally at the male red swordtail. Yeah you also seem a little flirty yourself lately.  I chidded back, turning off the steaming water and reaching for my towel. I don’t know what you're talking about, this dragon runs solo. I could have sworn he had a snarl at the end of that as I smirked right so you and Avonmora are absolutely not flirting or whatever dragons call it. All I got in response was a huff as I was walking back towards her room. My girls room. “Aetos.” Garrick greeted which slightly caught me off guard as I was madly in love with his little sister and he still didn’t know yet. “Tavis.” I said swiftly with a nod as we continued our opposite ways. I was now thinking about all the ways that Garrick could possibly figure out to kill me later after he finds out; probably several ways involving Xaden for the hell of it. I made sure no one was around as I reached for the door knob that was already turning. “How did you?” I asked when closing the door behind me. “Your audible sigh gave you away.” Y/N smirked. 

                                                  Y/N’s POV

     “Why the long face my Great Dain?”  “I was just thinking about the million and one ways your brother and Xaden are going to come up with to murder me after we tell them.” I giggled softly, wrapping my arms around Dain’s waist. “You really think they are your biggest threat?” I smirked. “I- ugh I- yes?” Dain stuttered and you couldn’t help but still be in a fit of giggles. “Oh my sweet sweet innocent Wingleadrer.” “Who else should I be oh-” You were now in a laughing fit as you noticed Dain’s face drop to the tenth degree as it clicked inside of his mind that indeed your best friend would be a bigger concern to him amongst the rebellen bunch. “How could you forget about sweet sweet Imogen, my love?” For a split second you could have sworn Dain Aetos actually looked speechless. “I- I don’t know, she’s not going to break my neck is she?” “I can’t make any promises but I can promise I’ll be right here by your side no matter what anyone else thinks about us. I love you.” “I love you too.” He said softly pulling you in closer to him and resting his chin on top of your head and taking in your touch and scent.  “Shall we head down to the dinning hall?” “There’s an Aretian special pastry you're gonna love; it’s like the berry tart at Basgiath but a thousand times better. Hold my hand?” Dain grabbed onto your outstretched and gave it a squeeze. Even if you were both ready or not to relieve your secret you both deserved to catch a break. 

                                                  Garrick’s POV

 We sat around the dining table at Riorson house. A table it had been so long since all of us had sat around it. I took a second to take in the odd group before us; Imogen on my left, her hand resting on my knee under the table, then Violet, Rhiannon, Xaden and even Ridoc and Sawyer; the only two people that were missing were. I almost choked on my tartlet as I looked up and saw Dain Aetos’s arm wrapped around my little sister as they each had a plate in their hands Y/N coming to sit on my right and directly next to her. Imogen slapped my back hard “Close your fucking mouth Tavis you’ll let a bug fly in.” I closed my mouth as Y/N greeted me with a “Good morning my handsome big brother, you should listen to Imogen more.”  Across the table Xaden gave a smug look and a nod towards the new couple; “what's up with this?” He gestured between my little sister and Dain. She shrugged “Same thing that's up with you and Violet and Imogen and Garrick.”  “I- I-.” I sputtered, it's not like Imogen and I had been exactly in the open but thanks to my little sister and her best friend we now were.  “Oh come on. You don’t think Immi and I don’t talk.” “I no, I know you do but seriously Y/N; You and Aetos? His-” “His what? The enemy? The enemy’s son? Dangerous?” She snapped. “I no that’s not what I-” “Then what was it Garrick?” “I just don’t want you getting hurt. He has betrayed our whole group before.” I said honestly. 

                                                 Y/N POV

    Your boil was boiling. “He's here isn’t he? Fighting for our side?  You and every fucking one else at this table knew what happened these past few months wasn’t Dains fucking fault. It may have been his father’s but not Dain’s.” You paused a new entire wave of emotion ran through a whole new desire for Dain on a different level. You looked towards Dain trying to stay strong and finish your train of thought when you knew he had that same lust and desire in his eyes. Oh god’s their fucking you thought. Cath and Avonmora were fucking and you and Dain had just. Yes we have mated Dragons, hurry up and finish so I can fucking take you. Dain said through your mind with lust and desire. Everyone was now staring at you. You couldn’t help but look towards Xaden knowing he had felt the same feelings several times. Given the smug look on his face you could tell he was reading yours pretty damn clearly. “Get used to Dain being around because I love him and not his father, get used to it and I know you will because you're my big brother and you love me.” Dain didn’t let you finish talking or breakfast as he grabbed your wrist gently excusing you both with some lame excuse that you both had to shower or something. When all you both wanted to do was fuck each other senseless until Cath and Avonmora stopped fucking each other. “Fucking mated dragons.” You heard Xaden snicker; you didn’t hold back your signet as you focused on the glass of Xaden’s water as you and Dain walked away. “Hey I was fucking drinking that!” You heard Xaden snickering as you knew your favorite trick with water since you got your signet last year had worked. “Mated Dragons?” was the last thing you heard your brother groan as you and Dain rounded the corner. “How did Riorson know?” He has mated dragons, remember?” “Right.” 

   Dain shoved your bedroom door open and pushed you onto your childhood bed and all the two of you did for the rest of the afternoon until your dragons finished their own fucking was fuck. You couldn’t get enough of him. Enough feel of your safetynet, your forever, the person that you were now tied with until one of you died, your everything.

           It had to have been several hours later when both you and Dain and your Dragons had finally finished. You two had best learn to shield. Cath snickered into both of our minds. “I could get you used to this though.” Dain said contentedly.’ You hummed in agreement as you nuzzled into him and laid your head onto your favorite pillow. “Me too. My favorite pillow.” Dain chuckled at your words and your yawn. “Good night my love.” He said softly tracing the lines of your rebellion relic which was oddly soothing. “Good night my Great Dain. I love you.”  “I love you to my favorite rebel.” He yawned as he kissed your forehead. Goodnight our sweet riders. Both Cath and Avonmora said into your minds as you nuzzled in closer to Dain if that was even possible. Indeed, you could get very, very used to this.

[theunbonded]

2

“You chose kitchen duty?” I couldn’t keep the scorn out of my voice as I threw a large sack of rice onto the counter, grunting as it slapped the metal surface. 

“I don’t mind waking up early.” Violet at least had the decency to look embarrassed. 

I rolled my eyes, not unkindly, before grabbing a scrap of cloth and trying my dark hair behind my neck. Two weeks had passed since becoming official members of the Rider’s Quadrant, and nothing disastrous had happened yet. Friendships within our squad were growing, classes were becoming a routine, first-years were assigned their chores, and our first challenges on the mat would be this week.

It was a little… boring. 

Sure, I wasn’t expecting full-on war to break out in our first weeks, but everything felt mundane. The classes were the same history and physics my father had taught me for years, so familiar I could recount it in my sleep.  All the first-years were too scared to make a move against each other, probably waiting until challenges to make their mark in a sanctioned arena.  

The only exciting part of my day was Battle Brief. In retirement, my father had lost primary access to information about attacks against Navarre. The giant map that covered the entirety of the classroom wall had made my heart stop on the first day, and I ogled the red and orange flags indicating recent attacks on the border. 

This was why I came to Basgiath. This was the information my father couldn’t give me. 

“You probably wish you had the extra hour of sleep.” Violet stood next to me, grabbing a knife to begin preparing the fruit for breakfast. 

“I don’t mind waking up early.” I threw her phrase back at her with a little smile. “I would have been up anyway. My father kept me on a strict schedule back home.”

“The Scribes keep earlier hours too.” She looked sad for a moment before shaking off whatever memory had taken hold of her. “How is your father? It’s been a while since I've seen General Capplynger.”

“He’s bored to death in retirement. I’m sure he wishes he was back here in Basgiath.”

“He did seem to love this place. I’m sorry our arrival meant his departure.”

The forced retirement of General Capplynger from Basgiath War College allowed for General Sorrengail to take station here. I barely remember the dinner before we left, meeting a tinier version of Violet and her siblings. They brought so much energy and light to the dark stone structures. My father had thrown his cane against the wall until it broke that night, refusing to use it as we were escorted out. 

“I’m just glad we are both able to meet again as riders, Violet.”

“Me too, Beatrice.”

⤧⤧⤧

Sparring mat after sparring mat was arranged in an orderly line down the gym. There must have been over two dozen, ready for the matchups between the various riders crowding around the damp room.

I stood cushioned between Violet and Sawyer, another rider in our section. He was unbonded, without a dragon after his first year and having to repeat. How embarrassing that must have been, to go through this whole ordeal and end up with nothing to show for it. To have to repeat with a set of fresh faces. What do his parents think? Do they even know?

Professor Emetterio, the sparring professor, had a giant parchment in his hands, and he quickly read off who was paired off with who for the first challenge. The golden mage lights reflected off his shaven head as I crossed the room towards my mat.

I was going against a first-year from Second Wing. The boy’s skin was tanned from the summer sun and his dark hair was cropped close to his head. While not entirely tall, he was muscular, reminding me of an ox. Eyes the color of coal flared with hatred as I took off the weapons strapped to my chest and thighs. The heat in the room had given the boys in the room an excuse to take off their shirt, and his rebellion mark was on full display. 

They assumed the lack of clothing meant an opponent couldn't grab onto anything to use as a weapon. In my tight long-sleeved shirt and pants, I knew that they were overreacting. A good fighter didn't let their clothes dictate who won.

“Ready to die, Capplynger?” The ox-looking cadet sneered as Emetterio started the match.

I sighed as I bent my knees, quickly getting into a fighting stance. Guess this was personal for him. 

Head-first he charged at my torso, and I quickly dodged his assault. With his back facing me I kicked the inside of his knees, forcing him to fall onto the mat. A low grunt escaped his throat, and I gave him time to stagger back on to his feet. This time, when he faced me, he didn’t immediately charge. 

“They learn.” I flashed him a smile, and he narrowed his eyes. 

On heavy feet he slowly came towards me. I let him back me up to the edge of the mat, bouncing on my toes, until he took a swing. I ducked underneath his arm and slipped behind him. He turned and threw another punch. I dodged. Another punch. Another dodge.

“Stop playing around!” A booming voice bellowed from off the mat.

The next time the ox-looking cadet threw a punch, I ducked and grabbed his outstretched arm with two arms, twisting until I heard a pop. He howled in pain, and I quickly got him back on the floor, this time on top of him. He had a size advantage, but I haven’t had years of training for nothing. I locked his arms and torso underneath my knees. His legs scrambled to find a holding, but they couldn't get an advantage.

With no hesitation, I wrapped my fingers around his neck and squeezed as hard as I could. 

His dark eyes popped out of their sockets as he gasped for breath. Underneath mine, his body struggled to get free. Even if he tried to tap out, my hold on him wouldn’t allow him to. 

“He taps out.” The same voice from before shouts. I don’t ease my grip on his throat. “Cadet Capplynger, he taps out! The match is over!” 

Hearing my name snapped me out my haze. I quickly got up and watched the boy struggle to fill his lungs with air. When the majority of his wheezing was finished, I reached my hand out towards him. My father said it was important to be a good sport after winning a match. It helped dim the burn of defeat.

The ox-looking cadet stared at my hand for one second before grabbing it and yanking me down onto the mat beside him. Before I had fully landed, I was thrown onto my back and his weight was thrown on top of me. He landed a punch to my face, and I heard a sickening crunch as my nose began to gush blood. 

Before any more damage could be done, his weight disappeared off of my torso, and I scrambled to my feet. Emetterio and the Second Wing's leader had the boy between their arms, dragging him off the mat. He managed to spit once in my direction, but as I lunged at him, my forearm was grabbed and I was dragged off the mat in the other direction. 

“No need to kick an injured dog,” a gruff voice admonished. “You already humiliated the kid.”

Garrick Tavis was holding my arm like I would go kill the Second Wing cadet at any moment, which I can’t say I blame him for. His nose wrinkled at the blood pouring from my nose.

Once we were off the mat, I ripped my arm away from him. “Call off your dog, Tavis.”

“Is that how you speak to your section leader?” That fucking eyebrow, raised again.

“That cadet was marked with the rebellion rune. He had it out for me. I don't know what you all are doing but tell them to fuck off or I’ll finish what I started today.” I hated the way I was snarling, but I was angry. The ox-looking cadet hadn’t deserved that hit to my nose. He had earned it from a dirty trick. 

Garrick just looked at me. “You need to go to the infirmary and get your nose checked out. It looks broken.”

I felt the bridge of my nose and felt the disconnected bones. They were like jagged edges of a broken piece of glass. With only a quick breath to orient myself, I pushed my nose back into place with a small crack. 

“Come with me, Cadet Capplynger,” Garrick sighed. He didn't try to grab my arm again; he just turned around and expected me to follow him out of the sparring gym and into the hallway.

And I did. My rage didn't made me dumb enough to not follow direct orders from a section leader. 

Once in the dimly lit hallway, he turned back to me. “Popping your nose back into place is not a permanent fix. Go to the infirmary while you still have the resources to do so, because this might be the only time you can have a mender see to it.” He then leaned down so his face was right in front of mine. “The cadets with the rebellion marks are not the only ones who have it out for you. If you weren’t being cocky and playing with that kid on the mat, you would have realized he had two friends, both of which were unmarked, watching the fight with more interest than necessary. Your father had many enemies on both sides of the war.”

I raised my chin, but it’s hard to look dignified with blood covering the entire bottom half of your face. 

“You’re a good fighter. There is no denying that. But they will find a way to catch you unawares, like he did on the mat today. They will probably try to gang up on you so they have the advantage of numbers. Will you be able to handle them then?”

“Yes,” I said proudly.

He shook his head at me again, raising back to his full height. “Fucking first-years.”

“I can handle myself.”

“Go to the infirmary.”

I narrowed my eyes at him, but he only turned to the side, allowing me to bypass him to continue walking down the hall. My shoulder brushed against his chest when I stepped and his leather bled warmth through my cotton sleeve. Goosebumps crawled up my back and I hastened my steps until l turned the corner of the hall, until I no longer felt those hazel eyes on me.

--

Masterlist

[lumiidragon]

This is spoilers so if you haven't watched it yet pass this by. But watching them causally destroy and deface thousands of year old artifacts that belonged to the original gang is making me go ballistic

Ok ok ok ok ok ok ok, so here's my thoughts on that entire part there.

First off, I know some fans might get upset at the fact that TNR shows that it's canon that the gang (or at least Hiccup and his family) have been down in THW and did not, indeed cut contact off for good. I say, 'good for them'. Screw the whole nonsense that Hiccup and the others never saw another dragon in their lives because what a miserable existence. Imagine living in a world where you have ACTUAL. DRAGONS. and then all of the magic is sucked out of that world because one dragon hooked up with a chick and decided that all dragons needed to pack it up and move underground to better fit HIS lifestyle and call it "being safe". However, that's an issue I've touched up on countless times, so I'll leave it at that.

Now onto what happened. Note, if you have not watched season 4 yet, here is your SPOILER WARNING:

I lost my shit mentally when I saw the mural of Hiccups family because I thought "Oh my god, they didn't separate after all! Hiccup might have still actually had the chance to have his kids grow up in the same dragon-populated world he did and that's fantastic!" and it was great that Tom is now certain that he comes from Hiccup's lineage (granted, it's not that any of the fans weren't expecting it. It's pretty obvious and they sure made it that way). However, then Tom finds Hiccup's, I'm guessing, last prosthetic leg. Obviously, they don't know exactly what it is, but I can forgive that. They're kids. However, I was expecting this iconic wonder they found to have more of an impact but TOM FUCKING THROWS IT INTO THE MOUTH OF A SNOW WRAITH FOR IT TO GET DESTROYED CASUALLY AND HE CRACKS A COMMENT ABOUT IT AND THAT'S IT.

We're talking HICCUP'S. PROTHETIC. LEG. This is the most iconic item next to Toothless's tailfin, and it's just CASUALLY munched and nothing else is thought about it. That...I dunno. That felt like a genuine slap to the face for the fans and a spit on Hiccup's grave. Tom couldn't have kept it as another clue? An artifact? ANYTHING?

Why??? What was the reasoning for that? Why bother showing the leg at all if it was going to be used as a non-important throwaway object????? Why couldn't he have just grabbed a rock or something?? Watch, when they find Toothless's tailfin, they'll either use it for shirt tear patches or will display it like God's trophy because Toothless and "cute" night lights matter more than Hiccup and whatever accomplishments he made that were long forgotten these days, I guess. Why does everything THW+ hate Hiccup so much??? /rant

[vykodlak]

i tried out flight rising but its really confusing? sob emoji. any tips on how to get used to it or is it meant to be like this

Tbh I think FR is one of the more straightforward pet sims because there's not really much to do outside of gene-ing and dressing your dragons, unless you like to participate in the community aspects like selling dragons/items, writing lore for your clan or destabilising the economy - but I understand the new pet sim confusion (I could never get the hang of neopets lol). I could probably be more helpful if you tell me which parts of the site are confusing specifically, so feel free to send me a follow up ask or chat message abt that.

It's been a while since I joined but I can try to go over the basic stuff! Under the read more for length:

So the main things you can do on FR are:

Buy or hatch dragons – Primary forms of dragon acquisition are the Auction House where you can buy them directly from other users, random eggs that you can get from scavenging using the Gather Items feature (this is rare), or breeding two of your own dragons.

Acquire genes through the marketplace or other means like the auction house or the Trading Post (You can excavate genes in Arlo's Excavations, synthesise them in Baldwin's Bubbling Brew, or trade for them in Swipp's Swap Stand*) There's three gene types: Primary (for the body), Secondary (for the wings) and Tertirary (for fun accents).

Slap those genes on your dragons (if you're not sure what a gene will look like and don't wanna commit blindly, you can preview it on your dragon in the Scrying Workshop)

Dress dragons in fun clothes (again, acquired through various sources like the marketplace, auction house or trading post)

[Optional] Breed dragons to achieve specific color/gene combinations, or just for the hell of it. All of your dragons will have the eye color of whatever flight you belong to, but you can send them off to other users who have the color you prefer so they can nest them. I don't think the website interferes if there is theft, however, so be careful (for the record, though, I've never had problems when I've asked for available nests on tumblr).

[Optional] Put accents or skins on your dragons for that extra touch of personality. Accent/Skins are user-made art you can slap onto your dragon, you acquire these mainly in the auction house (some users also have forum shops) or through holidays. There's also official skins/accents made by the ppl who run the site that you can get in the marketplace.

???? Profit

Other stuff you can do:

Play minigames to earn treasure so you can fund your newly formed dragon gening/dressing addiction

Gamble at Roundsey's Raffle to win cool prizes like Generation 1 dragons (dragons that don't have any parents listed in their Lineage box, considered valuable by the community even though gameplay-wise they're not at all different from other dragons who have parents)

[optional] Develop a debilitating G1 addiction

Get two dragons with rare/pretty color and gene combos, make lots of babies and sell them to other users for lots of money.

Every month the website has a flight-specific holiday where you can get limited edition items and skins. Each holiday has its own currency attached to it that you can earn through doing things around the site like gathering or battling in the coliseum.

Battle in the coliseum to develop early-onset carpal tunnel. If you want to get into battling, I've always used Culex's training guide to get my dragons into shape.

Put familiars on your dragons (you can get 'em through the auction house, marketplace, trading post, or gathering.) They don't do much except being swag beasts who give you treasure chests if you bond with them.

Exalt dragons to send them up to the great beyond. Every week, the community has dominance battles, where two (usually) flights duke it out to see who can exalt the most dragons. Winning this fight nets you perks for your flight like discounts in the marketplace for the next week. Dom battles are usually planned weeks in advance to give everyone a chance to prepare - I've never participated, though, so that's my extent of knowledge on 'em.

If you're still unsure about what to do after all the above, the Which Waystone function might help. There's also the Encyclopedia which will get you up to date on the lore and other such things, and the Database where you can look up specific items.

To start off, I'd suggest slapping your two progen dragons into the scrying workshop and seeing what genes you like best on them!

Then you can go play some minigames in the fairgrounds to earn treasure and buy those genes (or buy gems if you want gem genes. FR is probably the easiest website to earn premium currency on - either by doing commissions, selling dragons/items, finding them in random chests, etc.) Afterwards, you can breed the two if you wanna see what kinda babies they make - who knows, if you got good colors/genes, you could sell them for more treaure or gems. If you don't like the random colors you got on your progens, you can try your luck and use a tri-color scatterscroll on them (bought from the marketplace) to maybe get better colors. You can also buy a dragon from the auction house that matches the colors of your preferred progen better and pair them with that. From then, on, uh. The site's your oyster!

Putting together the perfect dragon can take a while - I've spent months trying for the exact color combo I wanted. Acquiring genes/clothes doesn't have to happen in a day, so don't get discouraged if you can't get your dragons to look spiffy immediately.

If you want to get into the creative side of the site, you can write lore for your clan. This is basically just writing your own story with your dragons (and one of the most fun part of the community for me).

*To trade for genes at Swipp's or brew stuff at Baldwin's you'll have to gather materials and other items, which you primarily acquire through gathering or fighting in the coliseum.

[burnwater13]

Grogu reaching up for Peli Motto with the pit droids looking on. Image from The Mandalorian, Season 1, Episode 5, The Gunslinger.

Funny thing. The man who was not Paz Vizsla said his name was Jon. His friend Roy was the person who cooked at that food truck. They’d been talking about food and what people liked and didn’t like and Grogu couldn’t help but chime in that he liked food.

To say that was a bit of show stopper was an understatement. First they thought his dad had talked. Then they thought it was a recording. Then they thought maybe they hadn’t been diligent enough in examining the fungus they had used for some dish they had worked on. Grogu had found it all very funny.

“What call this?” He pointed to the food on a plate waiting at the window passthrough from the truck.

“It’s a burrito. Filled with meat and cheese. It’s what we’re known for.”

“Roy, it’s gotta be a robot. Programmed to ask questions.” 

Grogu giggled at that. 

“My son is not a robot, or a puppet, or a doll. Now, do you take New Republic credits, or not?”

Grogu looked up at his and tried to wave him off. He just wanted to chat with these two people in the hope that they would offer him something just to see what it took for him to eat it. 

“Sure. If you have a New Republic credit, I’ll give you a burrito.”

The credit was slapped on the metal counter just a moment later and the other two men began to laugh. 

“Jon, look at this. You don’t have anything like this, right?”

Roy held up the thin metal chip.

“Give ‘em the burrito. I don’t even think that Dave has anything this good. I’m impressed. Tell me, where do you two come from?”

“Nevarro,” Grogu spoke up.

“Nevarro, never heard of it. What sector is it in?” Jon asked as he handed the burrito to the Mandalorian.

“It’s in the Outer Rim on the Hydian Way. It’s a bit of a skug hole to be honest. What’s this planet called? It wasn’t in my atlas.”

Grogu reached for the burrito.

“Careful buddy, it’s hot. Here. Let me help you out of that.”

Grogu didn’t wait that long. He climbed out of the bag and hopped onto the long metal counter waiting for his dad to hand him the tube shaped object. It smelled so good he couldn’t wait to get a bite. 

“We… ah… call it Earth. We’re part of the Sol system.”

Grogu barely paid attention to what he said because he’d already had the first bite of the burrito and it was just too good to be true. It tasted like Krayt dragon with Mandalorian hot spices and something just faintly sour. He didn’t know what that was about, but it didn’t matter. The thing was delicious. He was going to need another one because they were just too good to only have one. 

“I’ve never heard of the Sol system. Are you Mid-Rim?”

“No, uh, our galaxy is called the Milky Way. We are a spiral with long arms, not a disc. Wow. Are you two going to be visiting for long?”

“We’re on vacation. Looks like Grogu really liked that burrito. Here’s another credit. He’ll want another one. The kid eats enough to feed a whole smash-ball team.”

Grogu looked up at the three men and grinned at them. The burrito was perfect and his dad was right. But he didn’t just want one more. He thought that maybe they should get a bunch of them. He was sure that Peli Motto would love them. It was only fair to share something this good with another person who loved food as much as he did.

“Smash-ball? Sure. Roy, I’ll cover whatever they want. These two just gave me a great idea.”

“Whatever you say Jon.”

“This is the Way,” Grogu piped up, not wanting them to forget that he was the one who was hungry.

“This is the Way.” Jon replied.

Grogu took a moment to study the big man who reminded him so much of Paz Vizsla and wondered for a moment if maybe he was related to Peli. Same curly hair. Same grin. Same willingness to take a risk. But why was he buying them food? Peli certainly fed Grogu whenever he spent time with her, but he knew that his dad always paid her for it, one way or another. What did Jon want in return for the food?

Just as Grogu was about to put some heavy thought to that question, the next burrito appeared in front of him and all he could think of was how good it smelled and what a pity it was that Peli wasn’t with him to share it. 

“To Peli!” Grogu called out just before he began to scarf down the second burrito.

“Who’s Peli?” Jon asked his dad.

“She’s a friend. Run’s a starship maintenance garage on Tatooine. Does good work, even though her pit droids are a little hit or miss.”

“Is her place in Mos Eisley?”

“Yeah. Bay three five. Have you met her?”

“No. Uh, why do you ask?”

“You look like you could be her brother. By the way, is there a privy around here? Grogu’s gonna need to go sooner rather than later.”

“Sure. I have some friends with a place near by. I’m sure they’ll want to meet you. He can use the privy there.”

“Thanks. Much appreciated. It’s the only draw back to our N-1. No privy and the on board equipment isn’t sized for him.”

“Understood. Well, Grogu, did you like the burritos?” 

Jon was grinning at him and his dad seemed strangely at ease.

“Burpppp.”

Whoops! Grogu hadn’t meant to burp that loud. 

“I’ll take that as a yes. Hey Roy, make us up a couple more for the road. My new friends need to use a privy and I’m sure Grogu will be hungry along the way.”

“Whatever you want Jon. We’ll talk about the next show tomorrow?”

“Yup. I think my schedule for today has been overcome by events.”

“This is the way,” Roy laughed as he turned to make some more of the delicious food.

“This is most definitely the way.” 

[leafofkudzu]

What's your favorite jumping puzzle? Your favorite map to explore? Your favorite map to use a mount on? What's your favorite renowned heart quest?

Hmmm I am a huge jumping puzzle nerd so I actually have a few favorites based on different criteria! For exploration and general fun I really like Retrospective Runaround aka Drydock Scratch aka the giant one that takes you across literally all of the Silverwastes, and well as Searing Ascent, aka the one at the very top of Draconis Mons that I feel like I might be the only fan of. For uniqueness and also being fun to subject other people to there is nothing quite like Chaos Crystal Cavern, a semi-hidden one in Iron Marches that I used to use a lot for guild jumping puzzle races. And for festival ones the Mad King's Clocktower is a beast all its own that was literally the first major jumping puzzle I ever encountered, to my horror (I loved it the next year and every year since though!).

Favorite map to explore really just boils down to whatever is new! Map completion has always been a big thing for me, but not from a completionist perspective - more that one of the things I love about this game is how many little secrets are tucked away even in seemingly mundane maps. To be a bit more specific though, I like poking around the edges and/or out-of-bounds areas of meta-focused maps like the Silverwastes or Dragon’s Stand to see what’s out there. I used to be really invested in Draconis Mons and its cool upward-spiral layout and tbh I do still really like it, but it’s been overshadowed by shiny new maps lately so I haven’t been back in a while.

Interestingly enough the maps I most enjoy using mounts on are the Central Tyria Shiverpeaks maps (Lornar’s Pass and Timberline Falls specifically). You can get up so high onto the mountain peaks in the middle of the maps and then hop on a griffin and see everything from interesting angles since the maps have such interesting grading and elevation changes from one end to the other. Highly recommended. :D

I had to think for all of about 5 seconds about what my favorite reknown heart is before it slapped me in the face - the magnetic hammer one in Sandswept Isles! I think it’s really fun and enjoy swooshing around in a relatively non-hostile environment, though it’s probably not great one for those with motion sickness now that I think of it. Bonus shoutout to the cute little raptor-chompin firefly one in Crystal Oasis too which is just super cute and has a fun platformy aspect that I really enjoy. :D

[beachesgetpeaches]

I posted 1,522 times in 2022

That's 857 more posts than 2021!

131 posts created (9%)

1,391 posts reblogged (91%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@hcrogasm

@wholeplaceshimmerr

@clarkegriffins

@withoutaplease

@ferrisbuellers

I tagged 874 of my posts in 2022

Only 43% of my posts had no tags

#stancy - 127 posts

#stranger things - 91 posts

#house of the dragon - 77 posts

#steve harrington - 61 posts

#taylor swift - 48 posts

#hotd - 43 posts

#nancy wheeler - 41 posts

#succession - 31 posts

#rhaenyra targaryen - 25 posts

#harwin strong - 23 posts

Longest Tag: 134 characters

#alternative experience: guards! make them read my headcanon which i firmly believe is canon despite no source material supporting that

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

I feel like people have a misconception on S4 plot in terms of J**ncy and Stancy.

I never once thought that Byers moving away was a plot point to "get stancy to happen" (or whatever is being claimed).

The Steve x Nancy interactions are instead driven by "what if we put these characters who once cared about each other in close proximity". What would happen? And the reasonable answer was definitely not Steve and Nancy (disclaimer: teenagers!!) are completely over their unresolved no closure break up and no longer find each other attractive and everything is platonic af.

Season 4 answers the question what would happen if two people who never had any closure (because they broke up due to unprocessed trauma on BOTH sides) were brought back together... in life or death type of events.

They would be forced to face the fact that they still care for each other (this is canon dont fight me on this).

And maybe one of them does a cute confession because they are literally marching towards certain death.

97 notes - Posted August 1, 2022

#4

Let's go have fun with a few words in ST fandom (and how people love to just slap them onto anything really): toxic, misogyny, homophobic.

1. Toxic - literally poisonous but in less literal way it would be ... ah, insidious. I've seen people use it to describe relationships (or at least one or two ships) in this fandom. And I have to say, it's a reach? Has anyone actually considered what a toxic relationship would be? Because let me tell you as a person who has had first person experience, and whose friends have had experience in this shit - the way you're utilizing the word to describe - with aim to put down and discredit - some ships... ain't it. I'm not going to go into details here, but I'm sure individuals can recognise themselves.

2. Misogyny. A prevalent thing in the 80s, perfectly depicted in at the very least S3 and The Hawkins Post. Off the top of my head I am not thinking of other items to showcase it as clearly as that would. I need the people who claim that it was extremely misogynistic when Steve said he wanted six kids to consider that they might be wrong and projecting. Or simply misinterpreting the scene. The scene is a very lovely example of emotional vulnerability and attempted intimacy (platonic, non-platonic - doesn't matter for this conversation). It is not inherently misogynistic to want a big family, and express those desires - smh. Especially when nowhere in the two scenes does Steve say "I expect you to birth precisely six children, you specifically, and I won't budge". I find it funny that a scene showcasing emotionally vulnerable man in an 80s setting is being portrayed as misogynistic, please stop throwing the term around like it's nothing.

3. Homophobic. This one is pretty simple - I'm not homophobic for not shipping your mlm ship, or for thinking that it's at the very least interesting how mlm ships always seem to be prevalent in fandoms even when in source material we have very little (or sometimes nothing) to support those. I'm not saying you can't ship whatever you like, but it's also ha-ha funny when we deliberately exclude female characters out of these narratives to support our own mlm headcanons, so funny. (might even be quirky and use the word misogynistic here). Ship what you want, but it's not homophobic if someone dislikes your fanon ship. It's different taste and that's it.

104 notes - Posted September 19, 2022

#3

I would like the next post claiming that Steve and Nancy getting together will ruin their character arcs to write me a 2k word explanation with supporting data from the show, not their hc. utilizing media tropes, standards, etc.

116 notes - Posted July 8, 2022

#2

the sole issue I have with authors on clock app and zlibrary discourse is the statement that keeps popping up:

"if you can't afford it, you can't have it"

and I will say that yeah in general that is a fair statement.

the problem is - books are fucking important. reading and enabling people to read is so damn important, and even if we are now talking about a shitton of authors on zlib stating such things w.r.t. books to me is terrifying.

it's: if you can't afford it you have no right to learn.

if you cannot buy an expensive textbook, get fucked.

if you cannot financially handle the burden of buying books that will provide you with new outlooks - get fucked.

if those textbooks or selfhelp books or whatever are nor available in your local libraries, get fucked.

that's all I keep hearing -if you don't have the money get fucked.

and it is SO privileged!

because libraries around the world won't have the same content, the same variety, not all textbooks are available (or they are but they are in high demand so you either have to figure it out or buy one).

135 notes - Posted November 6, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Jonathan lying to Nancy take, and how it works with Stancy/J*ncy future plot.

(disclaimer: this is not anti Jonathan)

I know a lot of people try to frame it as Jonathan is lying so that Nancy won't give up her dreams to be with him, but to be frank that's a simplistic way to view it. Surely, part of his motivation can be described by that but imo I think Jonathan also understands Nancy well enough to know she would not give up her dream and move across the entire country to be with him. He knows that his decision prolongs their long distance relationship which we can be lead to believe has suffered during the time-jump before season 4. Jonathan is not this 100% selfless person putting Nancy first.

Jonathan still puts his family first and prioritises them over his relationship with Nancy. And to an extent it is understandable, he wants to support his mother, he wants to be there for his brother, and why wouldn't he do that in California where there are no bad things constantly coming for them. It is healthy for Jonathan to choose this. It is okay. Him lying to Nancy and avoiding conflict is not.

And on Nancy's side she prioritises her ambition over the relationship. She stays back instead of going to visit him with the same motive of avoiding conflict. Both of them know they need to have a serious talk about their future and they've both decided to avoid this in beginning if S4.

This dynamic of prioritising other aspects of their life over their relationship is not S4 only. It is also depicted in S3 where they are working together. Nancy wants to chase her story/hunch and prove herself, she lets her ambition drive her and has little care over how it affects herself and Jonathan's work prospects (ultimately it gets them fired). Jonathan on the other hand does indulge Nancy's investigation to an extent but is not fully supportive. He would rather bow his head, keep the job (which he needs! to help out at home. for which Nancy has little understanding). They have a clear conflict over this. Nancy prioritising her ambition over safety of that summer job, Jonathan prioritising his family's needs.

The show has shown where they diverge prior to S4, you just have to see it for what it is. We don't know where they will go in S5, or how this tension/conflict/divergence gets addressed but it needs to be dealt with. Jonathan and Nancy only work well together when their interests are aligned, imo, otherwise they clash.

I think that all of the shown is converging into a clear conflict "blow up" between Nancy and Jonathan and it would be cheap not to have them address this in S5. These are two people who care for each other but are not ready to put their relationship first.

On the other hand in this season we had Steve being very open with Nancy, even pointing out that the 6 kids and trips dream is great and all but the most important part is that Nancy is there. The rest is confetti, the rest is something they will deal with. Steve basically says, yeah all that kid talk is great, but it's you. And if anyone tells me Steve Harrington as characterised by the plot so far would not put Nancy first and find a compromise for them, then idk what show we are watching. He has shown time and time again where his priorities lie.

The end, for now... I guess?

137 notes - Posted July 23, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[unpleasant-ghoul]

Got a sudden urge to play Skyrim again. Being an old pirate I'm pirating it, as always (ye, always. Sometimes I delete the game. And then months or years later I'm like "ooops, looks like i wasn't done with this one!")

Normally I go with the Legendary Edition. And then slap half a ton of mods onto it because it looks like it's carved out of soap in its default state. I'm not talking "big tiddies and youthful faces" kinda mods, that ain't me. I mean, I've only ever had one Dovahkiin, recreating him as he is each time, and he's a scarred, wrinkly, pale, creepy guy. Very, very handsome in my weirdo opinion.

Gotta pick carefully to get him lookin' nice n HD while preserving that charming impression of "someone took a small dragon skull, tried to mold it like a chunk of clay into an elf face, abandoned it without finishing in a dark, wet cave for half a century, then it developed a body and crawled out" (not his actual backstory. He was born, like a normal person. It did happen in a cave, though).

But the thing is, there WAS no LE this time! Well, there was, but not from the guys I normally get it from so it wouldn't feel right.

SE it is! And Anniversary version of it at that, if I'm trying old things the new way anyway.

So here I am, downloading the latest version I've found. Looking through mods for SSE while I'm at it, RaceMenu definitely (new version or not, I really don't think I'm getting THAT skin tone without a mod to help me. Dude is fucking PALE. If he laid down naked in the snow, you'd only see hair, eyes, and tattoos), not sure about the rest.

Looks like I'll need a mod for survival, despite it being included: wiki says there's sickness from raw meat, but I headcanon my Dovahkiin both liking it and being surprisingly well-adapted for digesting it, so default survival mode will clash with that.

Bandolier will also be needed, despite backpacks being there: my character just isn't a backpack guy. Travel light, move fast and quiet, all that.

Think I'll go without the bathing mod this time. It was cool, but... Eh.

Hunterborn's a must have, so is something for harder combat.

Magic... If I can remember what I USED to use and it's available for SSE. There was some good stuff but I just can't remember the names.

...

Remembered the names, and they're available for SSE. That was easy. Now a mod for followers riding - that's harder. What I used for SLE isn't available for SSE, so I guess I'll have to pick whatever seems okay and hope it works.

...

Still not asleep, and I've found a SSE's equivalent to vanilla Skyrim's Dragonborn Body mod (a mod that lets you have your Dovahkiin be your special little potato instead of using same textures as the NPC). So doing a little fucking around with textures because I'd rather slap some scars right onto the skin textures than download a mod and find out it doesn't allow for the specific kind, size and amount of scars that I headcanon my character with.

[lediz-watches]

Dragon Age: Additional Material

I’ve been playing Dragon Age again… multiple times… through DA:O and DA2, but not Inquisition because ugh. And it’s been making me think about marketing, and The Dragon Age Problem.

I would like to call it a Bioware Problem, but it’s not. Bioware does have many problems, but the one I’m dwelling on is pretty unique (within Bioware’s franchises) to Dragon Age – it’s about the multimedia marketing strategy. And don’t get me wrong, they are not alone in this strategy – a lot of producers think it’s a great idea. But I have yet to see it work with anything that is not aimed at selling children’s toys.

The general idea is this: you have one main form of media, which is your expensive driving force. It’s what you pour the money into, it’s what people spend the most money on. But then you use as many other (cheap) media forms as you can to add onto that, adding lore and story and depth, so that people will either seek out that other media, or pick up that media first and become drawn into the main driving force. The idea is that you hit as many things as possible to create a franchise. You’ll hit market share, you’ll have fans grow up with media, you’ll have die-hard fans buy everything regardless of quality, it expands, it grows, it generates income.

Think Hot Wheels, Barbie, Disney… Pokemon was the great success story in this strategy, because they have video games, the anime, multiple manga, trading cards, toys, books, playing cards, jewellery, clothing, homewares, food…

And people have grown up with pokemon, and they’ve given it to their kids, and it continues. So of course all producers think they should emulate Pokemon.

Dragon Age was always kind of intended to be a young adult take on this strategy. They weren’t shy about it. From the very beginning, Dragon Age was supposed to have comic books, novels, they were angling for TV deals, they desperately wanted an MMO to spawn… but they’re just not good at it. Partly because young adults don’t like buying anything, and Bioware’s main audience is young LGBT+ which uh… Pirate Audience, my friends. Partly because adults are not…

Kids are going to buy whatever has their favourite character’s face slapped on it. Quality isn’t as important, because chances are they’ll grow out of it before it breaks. So you can produce lots of cheap merchandise and mark it up and it will be gobbled up by the consumerist market because kids do that. Adults, on the other hand, have bills to pay and lives to live. You want us to buy merchandise, it better either be functional, really cool, or at least exceptional quality. So yeah, not great for consumerism.

So they focussed on additional media, and you see them pushing this agenda with Dreadwolf now, as they say ‘you have to read/watch/consume this extra stuff to understand the story!’

Don’t get me wrong, it doesn't not work. Some people will consume the additional media, but I’ve never heard of someone coming in to the franchise from these sources. And while I have seen people gush about the shipping (because Bioware knows their fanbase), outside that the most positive reaction I’ve seen to additional material is a kind of… begrudging acceptance. Like ‘yeah, well, I want to get as much lore as I can, so I guess I need this.’

And so I find it obnoxious, not just from a fan perspective, but also as someone on the edges of digital media production. Because in good marketing, additional material is advertising. You shouldn’t need to know everything to enjoy one aspect of the strategy, but everything should entice you to purchase the main product. That is good marketing.

In Pokemon, you can just watch the TV series. You do not need the games, but I cannot tell you how many adult fans I know who gave Pokemon Sun and/or Pokemon Moon a chance because XY&Z was a good show. But the two things were actually unrelated. And you don’t need to know anything about the franchise to enjoy the toys, but kids will watch the show or play the games to see their toys moving in real time.

Disney is dancing on a similar knife edge, actually. Because for decades, Star Wars was the proof of concept for what Pokemon perfected. You didn’t have to watch the movies. You didn’t have to watch the TV shows. You didn’t have to buy the toys, read the books, whatever, you could just enjoy a single piece of media for what it was, and chances were it would entice you back into watching those old movies. Whereas now… you can watch the first season of The Mandalorian without context. You might get a bit confused, but you can do it. In season two, there’s important characters who you’re clearly supposed know. I haven’t tried yet, but I’ve been told you can’t watch season three without watching The Book of Boba Fett, which relies on you having either watched The Mandalorian or read some of the books and arghhhh! I do not have time for this, Disney!

And marketers are so confused about why this strategy isn’t working. Clearly the pirates are to blame.

It’s been a long time since I’ve been in academia, but this is one of those areas that if I had gone down that path, I’d want to study. Because that disconnect between marketing and consumer strategy is fascinating.

But anyway, Dragon Age. I loved Dragon Age Origins. It remains my favourite game of all time. I enjoy the gameplay, building my characters, forming my team and weaving their growth together. I loved reading the lore, I love thinking about the world, I adore my Wardens and the impact they have on the people around them. I have three Wardens that I consider fully fleshed out characters, and three more that I dabble in for funsies.

I enjoy Dragon Age II. Hawke’s story is a beautiful tragedy filled with love and hope and characters I want to get to know. The gameplay is okay, though you’re really just jumping between dialogues, and the voice acting is incredible. I have two Hawkes that are fleshed out, and a third I dabble in because he's the follow-on from my favourite Warden.

I very barely tolerate Dragon Age Inquisition, because I actively dislike the Inquisitor, and I don’t really like the gameplay. The voice acting is beautiful (Freddie Prince Junior, where were you hiding that talent?!), but they tell a story I am not comfortable with. And frankly when I play the game I find Solas even more eye-roll inducing than DA2 Anders, so the fact Dreadwolf is named after him…

And now this line from Bioware about required reading? When I’ve always found the additional material subpar at best and demeaning to my babies at worst?

Look, I’m just saying that Outside Xbox is going to have to have some incredible sponsored content before I’m going to even consider picking up this game.

But—and this is my reason for writing this—Dragon Age lore does actually give itself to additional material that I would love to see. I want to know more about Maric’s story. I want an HBO or Paramount+ adaption of DA2. I wouldn’t mind an Amazon Prime animated series about the original Inquisitor.

Those are the stories I want. And I’m going to rant about them over on the main blog. Because there’s very little in the actual additional material that I enjoy consuming.

It could have been so good...!

[wanderingrustus]

I posted 153 times in 2022

17 posts created (11%)

136 posts reblogged (89%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@inthetags

@fayesdiary

@bace-jeleren

@moonmuffins

I tagged 107 of my posts in 2022

Only 30% of my posts had no tags

#yugioh - 7 posts

#rusty speaks - 6 posts

#tcg - 5 posts

#fire emblem - 5 posts

#yugioh cards - 5 posts

#the chain - 2 posts

#octavarium by dream theater - 2 posts

#blasterforce by stone mcknuckle - 2 posts

#final fantasy vi - 2 posts

#gorgeous fanart - 2 posts

Longest Tag: 134 characters

#and in truth it was very much a second chance... had i stuck around my relationship with my family would have continued to deteriorate

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

They announced a new Fire Emblem game but, tbh, I'm not impressed. Just feels like Heroes with extra steps.

Showing Sigurd in it was just a slap in the face to everyone who wanted an FE4 remake (which I stand by my previous statement of "I hope not.")

I don't mean to be a downer, but man... IS is slipping.

Or I could be wrong and it ends up being a banger. We'll see in January I guess.

2 notes - Posted September 13, 2022

#4

...yeah, no thanks. I'm out.

Been a good 21 year run, but since Magic has officially jumped the Sharktocrab, I'm no longer interested in the story. I had a distinct feeling Kamigawa was going to poison pill the story for me, and goddamn I hate being right sometimes.

I might keep a few decks, but it's going back burner until further notice.

In the meantime, I'm going back to Yugioh full time. Hell a banlist just dropped today. It can't be all that...

...

See the full post

2 notes - Posted January 27, 2022

#3

So today I had one of my worse pain days. Old injuries suck and the constant changing weather is not helping. Thankfully my stepdad is super understanding and let me have the living room to distract myself with games.

I've been sort of obsessed with the Zorah Magdaros fight in Monster Hunter World lately and have been trying to... I don't want to say speedrun it, but that's effectively what I was trying to do.

After a couple hours of trying, I tried a more focused armor and weapon setup, and I finally got a sub 13 minute run. (Prior to this, I was averaging around 14 mins)

After supper, I got my first sub 12:45. But I felt like I could keep improving.

About 10 minutes before I started posting this post I made an unthinkable jump.

Sub 12 minutes. Holy mother of Duma that was intense.

Found a pathing that helps speed things along. The biggest help is not to forget to drop the stalactites in the first phase, in addition to destroying the magma cores.

Then at the start of the second phase, fire all your cannons at the top of the barrier, from landing side to its opposite and back, whether they're full or not (make sure you adjust your trajectory if needed). After you reach the opposite side, return to your landing point, firing every cannon with at least one cannonball along the way, then descend onto the lower ship and fire the Dragonator, then fire the lower cannons. If this doesn't end the fight right away, assist the two npcs loading cannons and fire upon reaching 3-4. You should clear the fight after a few more shots.

Having the Heavy Artillery charm will speed this along. I'm also using the Jyura switch axe and decorations that boost Water damage for attacks against the magma cores. (Because despite all of this, and 200 hours logged, I still haven't beat Nergigante)

Pain isn't going to stop me from kicking virtual ass lmao.

3 notes - Posted March 28, 2022

#2

We humans tend to allow the past to destroy our lives. I implore you not to let this happen. It is time to look forward, to rediscover love, and embrace the beauty of life. You have so much life left to live.

-Cyan Garamonde, "Final Fantasy VI"

5 notes - Posted February 15, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

My new Yugioh sleeves came today, care of YourPlaymat. 40$ plus shipping and tax for a set of 60 sleeves with whatever you want on them. Definitely want to oversleeve these though.

Tagging @gyppygirl2021 @fayesdiary and @moonmuffins because Echoes.

7 notes - Posted November 4, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[cardanloveclub]

Picture perfect.

Cardan Greenbriar.

If a month ago you told me I'd be here right now, posing for a painting with the youngest prince in the Greenbriar line, I wouldn't believe you. I'd laugh at you, while feeling sickened by the simple thought of it.

But here I am, betrothed to the one and only, Cardan Greenbriar. I'm not happy about it, the only plus I've thought of at the moment is the endless supply of hot towels.

Two weeks ago my father came into my room, I was lying on my bed, reading some old folk tale, it was about a girl and a dragon, I can't remember much about it. But he came in, my mother latched onto his arm, my sister leaning against my door frame, wanting to hear whatever it was they were going to tell me.

"We have some news for you."

"I gathered by the way you waltzed in, you weren't just going to tell me dinner is ready."

"He'll never put up with her." My mother not so discreetly whispered to my father.

"It's for her own good, she should be put in line, not to mention the other benefits." He replied, side eyeing me as he did.

I looked at my sister who was looking straight at me and shrugged. She seemed just as confused as I did.

"You're engaged, I trust that you'll take it upon yourself to talk to us respectfully about it. There's going to be no debate, we're not changing our minds, everything has been agreed already."

If I was mid drinking, my bedsheets, corset and blouse, parents and pillow would have been soaked.

"To who?" I asked, frantically. I wish my sister wouldn't have been there to see me panicking, but siblings are siblings and will always be nosey.

"The youngest son in the royal family."

"You have got to be kidding me." My sister squealed from the door.

"Yeah, what she said. How did this happen, and why?"

My mother looked at me, up to my father, nodded and focused her attention on me again, seriousness in her eyes.

"It's not at all ladylike to be asking so many questions about this, you'll go through with the wedding, with the terms that come with it and you mustn't fail us. Or yourself."

"Did nobody think to ask me about this, marrying me off to a boy, I can't stand? It seems like a stupid, obvious way for you to get power, surely there must be-"

"Enough." My fathers quiet, threating whispers are worse than his shouting. Not quite however worse than being hit. It's not uncommon to be slapped silent by a parent or partner. I've seen him do it to my mother. Only once, he was drunk, he promised it wouldn't happen again, he never has laid hands on her since. I've been slapped a few times, so has my sister but we move on from it. It's hard to get caught up on those feelings, after all, it's your family, you always come around, you always love them.

But at that moment I was livid. I couldn't argue against them, I knew it would cause more problems than it would resolve. There was nothing I could do about it. I was tied up with Cardan Greenbriar. Royal Prince and pain in the arse.

But here we were now. Dressed up in the fanciest clothes I have ever worn. A burgundy velvet dress, laced with golden silk, tied at the back with ribbons, and cinched at the waist, with yet another corset, it was an elegant piece and despite the slight discomfort, I felt beautiful in it.

Cardan was dressed in a cream shirt, black trousers that were slightly baggy at the ankles, rings adorning his long fingers and pointy ears. We looked like a rich couple, but far from happy, thankfully we didn't have to smile for this painting.

We were draped across a plump, rich purple coloured couch. Half empty wine glasses in hands. My heels were slipping off my feet and he was barefoot. He smelt like alcohol, smoke and blood, it was all I could think about. I didn't know if it was my mind telling me that or if he actually smelt like a murder scene from a book I would have read in the past.

I felt something wrap around my ankle and looking down I saw what it was. His tail. Wrapped, possessively around my ankle.

"Greenbriar, take it off." I warn

"No, I feel like it fits, me, around you, reminding everyone who you belong to." He whispers, slowly.

"I don't belong to you." I hiss at him.

"Sure, but it wouldn't harm to have the folk believe that. They'll love it, they love a happily ever after."

"Oh we're far from a happily ever after."

"Whatever you say, but you're always here with me, and when this is finished, we'll eat together, we'll retire to the same bed, wake up, me around you, just like now. You'll get used to it sweetheart. Don't worry your pretty little head about it now."

I couldn't speak, I just nodded along, doe eyed, feeling like I was a mouse and he was a snake. But he wouldn't just eat me straight away, no, I could tell this snake loves to play with his food.

And no one could tell him not to, after all, he's royalty.

[sawamono]

genshin nsfw hcs pt 2

read part 1!!

warnings: nsfw, MINORS DNI, drugging, bdsm, perv albedo, stalking ment, light talk on blood kink, cum play, exhibitionism, wax play, degrading, breeding kink, hair pulling

notes: i kept thinking of that fred song “my babysitters a vampire” while writing this and im sorry this is so late i meant to post this like 2 days ago

albedo

i just wanted to touch more on pervy albedo

can u imagine it.

albedo probably takes pictures of you and says their “for the memories” or “something to remind me of you when you leave mondstadt”

but he really only has them to jerk off to them cmon now

this is gonna sound stalker-ish but albedo probably watches u change through ur window

UVE PROBABLY CAUGHT HIM ONCE TOO

it’s such a funny thought to me omg

you see him outside ur window with his dick in his hand and he’s a stuttering mess LMFAO

you’ve probably caught him staring at ur ass a couple times too

if you ever go to the beach with him.. i’m praying for ur safety..

i feel like albedo would be a little bit of a family guy too

imagine babysitting klee with him and he’s just watching like “yeah.. i’m gonna have a family with u..”

breeding kink imo

arataki itto

sex.

i love him.

if you look closely on him you can see he has a spiked collar

pull it i DARE YOU

again,

MONSTER DICK

slaps his whole abdomen

probably big enough to kill a dragon

OK LET ME GET SERIOUS

he probably has a blood kink

just a lil one

like he’ll scratch up your thighs or bite you till you bleed bc he knows the mark will last

loves when you ride him

all of it can barely fit so he has to help you out

when he sees his dick imprint on ur stomach he’s going wild

he WILL go many rounds too

rip you and your holes bc he will fill ALL OF THEM

cums a lot

an unrealistic amount because i said so

if you don’t like cum play or any mess, he’ll TRY to stay clean

try

he fails in the end but he gets A for effort

diluc

yes.

my boy toy.

idk if i covered this already or not but enjoys wax play

he’ll light a candle and hold it over u and just watch it melt onto u

probably likes it on himself too

(if ur ever fucking him and he’s comfortable with it do it he’ll love you forever)

PULL!! HIS!! HAIR!!

whether you’re top or not, give it a nice lil tug

he may or may not moan

i forget whatever i said about him in the first hcs but this man is my whore idc

yes, he’s fucked you in the tavern

he’s fucked you while on the job too

he’ll take you to the back and give you that dickmeister9000

don’t play with him!!

doggy style, his favorite.

i feel like while diluc would fuck you in the tavern, he’s shy so he likes to keep you in the winery

the maids have definitely walked in on it more than once

it was just awkward staring before the poor maid just left

at this point adelinde is used to it though

so while it’s happening she just acts like normal and leaves

it’s scary as fuck

diluc probably got a few tips from albedo and may or may not have added a little extra sumthin sumthin to a new wine he wanted you to try

he’s experimental let him live

scaramouche

if this mf don’t get some damn official art

anyway

an absolute menace.

LIKE

HE WILL RUIN YOU

and he’s so mean too

he will degrade you to all hell

and he’s rough omg..

deadass i think his dick is like 7 inches

idk them short people be packing sometimes

hate sex is like normal with him

WAIT IMAGINE UR BOTH ENEMIES AND UR BOTH TIRED OF THE SEXUAL TENSION SO U SKIP RIGHT TO THE SEX

i’m a genius

probably into bdsm too

will tie you up

WILL PROBABLY SHOCK U WITH ELECTRO TOO

SPOILERS FOR INAZUMA STORY QUEST!!!

so u know how he kinda drugged mc in that place when we meet him again

what if he does that to u…

WITH CONSENT OF COURSE

spoilers over

i feel like scaramouche would actually be really big on consent

safe words with him are a must

he wants u to feel safe and comfortable

he’ll fuck you into oblivion yea

but only if ur okay with that

venti

whew

y’all.

it’s long.

like you would never imagine it

but it’s long

he’s very. very. fast.

like

lighting mcqueen don’t got shit on him

kachow

cums a moderate amount

probably has a thing for exhibitionism

he will dead ass fuck you in windrise

like just out in the open like that

will probably grope you at angels share

he’s very touchy me thinks

ooo pull his braids

PULL THEM HARD

he will love it.

fucked him so good he wrote a song abt it

[jamaisjoons]

erised ⤑ pjm | m.

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

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

❥ 𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: mild angst ⋆ fluff ⋆ smut

❥ 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡: 29k 🥴

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then, all of a sudden, he’s stopping.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Cute.

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

Cute.

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

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

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

You would know.

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

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

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

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

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

Which is… not something you can say about yourself.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But that’s just him.

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

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

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

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

“N-No,” you stammer once again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I-I can e-explain,” you stammer out.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Tell me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Pick a safe word.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“W-What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“J-Jimin- fuck me, please,” you beg.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck me,” you implore.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s what I thought,” he hisses.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Stop teasing me,” you grumble.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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