#//she already has a nerd enemy... it was only a matter of time before she started dating one... | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

miekasa · 4 years ago

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six thirty

+ pairing: armin arlert x (fem) reader

+ genres and warnings: college au, enemies to lovers… kinda… in a very nerdy academic rivalry kind of way, me being a comedian you’re welcome, fluff, smut/nsfw content

+ word count: 5.6k… pls say sike

+ notes: shout out to ryn for listening to me during our very many rambling sessions and also for extorting me into posting this. consider it a late birthday present for my favorite menace </2

+ side notes: no i am not a part of armin nation and i never want to be, nor do i wish speak of this again.

Armin Arlert is the perfect student. Prompt and well prepared during lecture; smart and insightful during office hours; the apple of any teacher’s eye. Unfortunately for him, so are you.

If you asked Armin, you were a little too clever for your own good, and liked to make it very well known that you believe you’re the smartest person in any room you walk into. That may be true, but it doesn’t mean that he has to sit there and worship your superiority complex.

If someone asked you, you’d say that Armin was a know it all, and a manipulative little piece of shit. Again, not a completely false statement, but perhaps a slightly biased character analysis.

Neither of you are wrong. It’s why you’re both the bane of each other’s existence.

There’s a noticeable grimace on your face, chin in your palm, elbows resting atop your desk, as you turn your head to where, sure enough, Armin is seated where he always is: first row, right side, directly in front of the podium, like perfect little teacher’s pet he wants to be. He doesn’t have any books to unpack like everybody else because a shiny, blue iPad is propped up on his desk in place of all of that. He’s robably looking through his pre-written list of showboaty questions to ask during lecture. Like he’s a cut above everyone else.

Maybe some of the other morons in this course, but not you, that’s for damn sure. You bet that if you broke his thousand dollar tablet he wouldn’t think he’s such hot shit anymore. Maybe that would knock him down a couple of pegs.

“Look at him sitting there with his stupid blue eyes, and his stupid Bieber haircut, and his stupid, shiny blonde hair, and his stupid fucking glasses. I bet they’re not even real and he just wears them to—”

“Did you just call his hair shiny?”

You snap your head to your left, “What—no, of course not. I said shoddy, he’s probably a bottle blonde. Maybe all the chemicals from the hair dye seeps into his head and warps his sense of reality.”

“I’m pretty sure you said shiny.”

“Shut up, Annie.”

She raises an eyebrow at you, “You got something against blondes? Because your track record would beg to differ.”

“Once. We kissed once, and it was truth or dare, and we were both sloshed.”

“You still chose me,” she reminds you, pulling her notebook out of her backpack.

You huff, ignoring her words and turning your head back to Armin, this time finding him twirling his stupid fucking expensive Apple Pencil between his fingers like it’s nothing. You can feel your eye begin to twitch.

Perhaps he can, too—or maybe he can just feel your eyes boring holes into him—because he turns in your direction and ceases his pen twirling the moment you make eye-contact. More students filter in, walking past your line of vision, but each time they move, you and Armin meet gazes again; neither one of you daring to look away, a palpable tension between you.

His eyes might be icy blue, but you can see the rose pink tint underneath his skin, even from the distance; a familiar blush that spreads across his nose and cheeks. You exhale with a silent laugh, breaking your eye contact before he grows completely red, just in time for Dr. Zöe to start the lecture.

Everybody thinks that Armin’s so brilliant, so smart, so untouchable. You know that his only genius is that he’s fooling everyone into thinking that he’s the kind, humble, little nerd boy who wouldn’t harm a fly, when that’s far from the truth.

Armin is mean. He’s competitive and possessive and snarky and sly. He’s the definition of a wolf in sheep’s clothing, but you’re pretty sure the only person in the world who might believe that is Eren. Though, you’ve heard some of the insults Armin throws Eren’s way, and they’re not exactly soft. Granted, that’s a factor in any friendship, and most of his jabs are coated with a layer of intellect the brunette likely doesn’t understand, but that doesn’t make Armin any less sarcastic. It just means Eren’s too dumb to know what’s going on.

Poor kid. Maybe it’s for the best.

That’s all to say that Armin is nothing but a big talker—not even; a smooth-talker, is more like it. He comes across as perfect, all good and sweet and soft, because that’s what he lets people see. Nobody else looks through to the sharp tongue and ragged edges, because they’re too busy cooing over innocent blue-eyed baby in front of them.

But you know that Armin, the one he doesn’t want other people to see: the one that’s so good, he’s bad; so sweet that he’s sick; so nice that it’s cruel. And you know just how much pressure to apply to make his façade crack.

And you intend on doing so.

“I don’t know which formula to use—hey, are you two eye fucking again? Cut it out, I’m trying not to fail over here,” Eren exclaims, poking Armin’s shoulder with his pen.

The jab averts the blonde’s attention back to his friend, eyes wide as he blinks himself back to reality. He curses under his breath when he feels a familiar warmth creeping across his cheeks. Few things piss Armin off like the way he gets red in the face after thinking about you, or even just looking at you, for too long. Whether it’s red out of pure annoyance, or another feeling he tries to push down, it’s irritating, and above all, embarrassing.

He spares one more glance over his shoulder, to where you and Annie are sat a few tables away in the library. You’ve looked away by now, focusing back on your notes, but Armin swears he can still see that irritating smirk on your face from this angle.

He rolls his tongue along the inside of his cheek. He should be able to keep it together around you by now, but he can’t, and it bothers him. You bother him.

“We weren’t eye fucking,” he refutes, turning his back to you completely, “She’s such a little know it all sometimes, s’annoying.”

Eren raises an eyebrow. He knows that you and Armin don’t get along, but he doesn’t understand why. Armin knows almost all your friends, and you definitely know all of his—Eren would even go as far as to say that you and him are pretty close friends—so it’s not a matter of not spending time together. You’re also the two smartest people Eren knows. In theory you should have more than enough to talk about together, but every time you’re in the same room, you hardly acknowledge each other outside of surface level commentary, or glances that border on staring.

Thankfully, the bickering remains in the classroom for the most part. Eren’s seen you and Armin go at, and he’ll be the first to admit that it’s beyond intimidating. Though, a little part of him finds it oddly entertaining, and he can’t help but to be impressed. All the more reason for you two to start playing on the same team.

Eren thinks the two of you should get to the root of the issue already. Which, if you asked him, has very little to do with your rivaled academic genius, and a lot to do with your lack of it concerning your feelings for each other.

“She’s not that bad,” Eren vouches for you, “I think you two might get along if you ever spoke outside of trying to one-up each other in class.”

“I’m not trying to one-up anybody,” Armin rolls his eyes, a nasty habit he’s picked up as of late, “And if you stopped and used your brain for a moment, then maybe you could solve the problem.”

“I did use my brain!” Eren’s lips fall into an offended pout, “But none of this makes any sense to me! I fucking hate math, you know that.”

Armin sighs, feeling sympathetic for Eren as he slumps into himself defeatedly. He knows that Eren isn’t dumb, but math in any capacity is certainly not his strong suit. He also knows that he shouldn’t give Eren all the answers, but sometimes he needs a little push to get him there. A little bit of added guidance and motivation to keep him going. It’s either that, or he has to trick Eren into doing the work himself, but clearly that method wasn’t working out today.

“You already solved for the activation energy, now you’re supposed to use the Arrhenius equation in the expanded form.”

Eren’s lips fall into a small o-shape, as his eyes scramble across his paper again. “But—how do you—”

“There’s two measurements given for temperature.”

“Oh. Oh, yeah! Okay, right, but then—”

“You have to convert it to Kelvin first or it won’t work. It’s given to you in Celsius.”

Eren furrows his eyebrows together, and then it finally clicks for him. He mutters to himself as he puts his pencil to paper to begin to work through the problem, “How do I convert—”

“Add 273.15 to it. Make sure you put the bigger one first in the equation, or else you’ll get a negative error.”

“You didn’t even do it,” Eren huffs, angrily punching numbers into his calculator, “How do you know it’s right?”

“Because I took this class already,” Armin reminds him, sparing a brief glance over his shoulder, “Isn’t that why I’m tutoring you?”

Eren coughs over his embarrassed blush, “Oh, yeah, right.”

It’s quiet between them as Eren makes a final attempt at solving the equation, carefully and proudly circling his answer when he’s finished. He looks to Armin with bright eyes, and is content when the blonde gives him a reassuring nod, confirming that his answer is correct.

“Well that was a bitch to work through,” Eren sighs, stretching his arms behind his head with a slight yawn, “Chemistry is nothing but glorified math. It’s barely a science.”

Armin shrugs, but he doesn’t disagree. He isn’t the biggest fan of chemistry, unlike somebody else he knows. “Why’d you take chem if you knew it would have so much math?”

It’s Eren’s turn to shrug, slumping back in his chair and running a hand through his hair, “I gotta take all the pre-med requirements… just in case.”

“You wanna go to med school? Since when?”

Eren averts his eyes from his friend, a telltale sign of his bashfulness coming over him. It doesn’t happen often, but Armin knows it’s sincere when it does.

“Dunno. I’m not sure of it, just wanna keep my options open, you know?” Eren replies casually, “Doctors help make a difference and all that, and surgery looks kind of cool. Besides, if my bastard father could do it, how hard could it really be?”

A gentle smile grows on Armin’s lips, “You can do it. If you really want to, I know you can.”

Eren’s head snaps up, eyes wide and filled with affirmation and adoration. He relaxes his expression quickly after, but the pink hues are still present, “Thanks, Min.”

From his position he catches eye of another head of familiar blonde hair over Armin’s shoulder, and beside it, your own hair. There’s a flash of a moment when your eyes meet Eren’s, and you offer him a small wave before turning back to Annie to resume doing your homework. Eren barely gets the chance to wave back, but a dopey smile sits on his features at your kind gesture. It fades when he looks back to Armin, once again pondering the animosity between you two.

You and Armin aren’t all that different, you just need to get to know each other better. Actually, Eren thinks that you might make a good couple if you both stopped overthinking it.

“So, what’s the deal with you and (_____)?” Eren asks, bending his right knee to wrap his arm around his leg and rest his chin on top of it, “You act like she kicked your cat.”

“What?” Armin questions, flustered, “What—no, she wouldn’t touch Soup.”

Eren quirks an eyebrow at that. “I still can’t believe you named your cat Soup.”

“It’s technically a nickname.”

“A nickname for what?”

“…For Miso Soup.”

Eren blinks. “Okay, if she didn’t mess with Soup, then what’s the issue? You scared of her or something?”

“Why would I be scared of her?” Armin asks, tone incredulous; then softer, more subdued, like a kid who doesn’t want to admit they’re wrong, “’M not scared of her.”

“You stare at her like you are—well, you look kind of angry, but also scared. Like, when you see those balloon things outside of car washes. You hate them, but you can’t look away from them—”

“I am not scared of those!”

“You are, and it’s okay,” Eren waves away his friend’s denial, “Oh, I get it—is this one of those things where she makes you nervous, so you respond with anger and sarcasm instead of thinking through your feelings?”

“You’ve been going to therapy for one month, relax.”

“Maybe you two should go to friend therapy and work this out,” Eren bites back, “It probably doesn’t help that she’s always with Annie. They both look like they would murder someone with no remorse. I admit, it is kind of scary… but it’s kind of hot, too.”

Armin spares him an unamused glare. Eren crosses his arms in defense, “What? I’m not wrong. It’s sexy in a scary kind of way, maybe that’s why you’re always eye fucking. I don’t blame you, she’s hot. I would let her and Annie axe-murder me without regret.”

“Eren?”

“Yeah?”

“Shut up and do problem six, I don’t have all day.”

Eren huffs, but flips the page to the next problem, grumbling under his breath as he attempts the, “It’s not as sexy when you’re mean, you know.”

Armin hits him silent.

Tuesdays are Armin’s favorite days because he only has one class. Sure, it’s three hours long, but it’s much more bearable than his usual eight-hour day.

It’s also the one class he shares with you. Which is why he’s always mentally exhausted by the end of it, but physically, he feels like he could punch a wall; all his pent up anger and frustration is channeled into his body and he’s desperate for an outlet for it. It’s a feeling he hates to love.

Annie seems to have cut class today seeing as she’s not next to you; and it’s almost as if it’s emboldened you to mess with him even more than usual.

He bites his tongue as Dr. Zöe enthusiastically uses your latest point as a segue into the final topic of the evening. He made that same point ten minutes ago. You just worded it differently—admittedly, more concisely, but somehow with a little more nuance, than when he had hesitantly proposed it—and, yeah, maybe you made it sound more convincing, but that didn’t mean that he didn’t come up with it first. If his stupid, fancy stylus didn’t cost upwards of $200 he might have snapped it in half.

You’re definitely the better conversationalist, that much he can admit. Words have never been his forte and he hates the way you can talk circles around him, and that there’s so little he can say to make you stop.

He wishes you would just shut up. In fact, he’d like to shut you up himself.

Thankfully, class ends sooner rather than later. Armin finds himself briefly talking with Dr. Zöe afterwards, most other students having taken the opportunity to leave early for the night. To nobody’s surprise, you’re not one of them, having stuck around to talk to the professor, too.

“The two of you should consider lab research this summer,” Dr. Zöe suggests ardently, walking between the two of you as you exit the lecture hall, “I could really use two students like you!”

Armin chuckles at his boisterous professor. He’s known about the research opportunities at their lab for quite some time now, and he knows that you have, too. “I don’t know that lab work is really my strong suit.”

The three of you come to stop at the hallway intersection, the professor now standing across from you and him. You give them a polite smile, “And I’m not sure that collaboration is mine.”

Armin spares a glance just in time to see you flash one of your own in his direction. Dr. Zöe’s eyes flicker between the two students rapidly, a slight squint to their eyelids.

They aren’t quite sure why their two brightest students seem to despise each other. They wish you two would just get along already, so that they don’t have to spend the summer training half-witted chemical engineering majors how to use basic lab equipment; and instead, conduct some actual research.

“Well, I hope the both of you reconsider,” they smile, “I’ll see you during office hours, I presume?”

You two nod in sync, sending the doctor off with happy smile, just long enough until you see that they’ve turned the corner further down the hall

“Had fun stealing my point earlier?” Armin questions, looking your way as you still wave mindlessly, eye-twitching at your polite façade.

“I would call it improvement,” you tell him, not bothering to turn in his direction; still and smiling waving like the professor can see or hear you, “You should stick to showing, rather than saying. You never were good with your words.”

Armin kisses his teeth together. He’ll give you what you want, if that’s how you want it.

In a fit of irritation, he grabs your moving hand by the wrist, and pulls you down the opposite hallway, not caring for your dramatic wailing behind him.

“Hey, Einstein, the exit is the other way, do you have any idea where we’re going?”

“Ever heard of observational learning? Maybe if you shut up for a second, you would figure it out,” he snaps, pulling you further.

There’s a door on the left that Armin knows is unlocked, and he’s quick to open it and pull you inside. Before you have the chance to glance around, he has you pushed up against the wall, jaw forced up and forward.

He could scoff at the small hitch in your breath at his actions, clearly a little too satisfied with being manhandled; but instead, he takes the opportunity to press your lips together. Armin quite likes the feeling of your lips on his; warm and soft and far too welcoming; a rare moment of silence.

“Someone could hear us.”

Or not so silent.

“Then be quiet,” he snarls.

Armin feels your fingers weave themselves into his hair, scraping along his undercut in sync with his lips trailing down your jaw. A groan falls from his when he feels you tug at the ends of the strands, just hard enough to force his face back to eye level with yours.

“You’re the one with the big mouth.”

“You’re so smart, huh. Always got something to say,” Armin lets out a low chuckle, deft fingers running down your sides to squeeze at your waist, “You can be really fuckin’ annoying, you know that.”

You mirror half of his ministrations, letting your right hand trail down his chest barely brushing over the very visible bulge in his jeans, before hooking your index finger under the belt loop, effectively pulling him closer to you.

The smile on your face is dirty, but you’re not laughing like he was, “Do something about it then.”

His blue eyes grow cloudy as he takes a good look at you; slowly rakes over your features, from that stupid, snarky look in your eyes, to your kiss-bruised lips, down to your chest, and back up again. Armin finds himself copying your smirk for all the wrong reasons. But it’s your own fault; you always did like to push him one step over the edge.

“Fine.”

Despite your twisted grin there’s a look in your eyes that’s eager; willing; ready for the taking. That same look you have when you talk over him in class; when you pretend to ignore him around your mutual friends; when you want him to fuck you stupid.

Armin uses his right hand to cup your jaw again, closing the distance between your mouths with a less than gentle kiss. He feels your groans reverberating through his body, waves of heat accompanying them and going straight to his erection. Your arch your back into the kiss, but he forces you backwards, left hand flat against your tummy.

Following suit, he pushes himself against your body, pressing his knee between your legs; the thin fabric of your stockings doing little to prevent your thighs from rubbing against him.

He swipes his tongue over the seam of your lips, earning a frenzied whine when glides his tongue across yours, and teasingly licks at the roof of your mouth. Your tongue is lithe against his, but somehow just as deceptive and sly as always, and Armin would be a fool to deny that he loved it.

There’s a spark flickering in his stomach when you push your center harshly against his; and it’s only ignited further when he feels you bite his bottom lip. A guttural growl escapes him, his right hand moving to your throat with practiced ease, pushing the back of your head into the wall.

He pauses for a moment, drinks in your wide eyes and desperate visage, “You are the single most frustrating person I’ve ever met in my entire life.”

And he couldn’t get enough of it if he tried. He couldn’t get enough of you.

You must see through his words, into the grainy expression of adoration in his eyes, because he can see it filtering into yours, pupils dilating with both want and care.

“Aw, baby, I love you, too,” you pout, leaning forward as best to can to peck him on the lips, “Now, shut me up and fuck me. It’s exhausting being this pretty and smart-mouthed, you know.”

Armin dips his head into your neck, squeezes against the column of your throat with warning until he hears a gasp escape from your lips. He presses gentle kisses into your skin, in stark contrast to the increasing pressure from his fingers, waiting for one last request, and then, finally—“Please.”

He smiles, loosens his grip for a moment, just long enough to hear your pretty panting, before slotting his lips against yours again. Your moans are lewd and sloppy and breathless between kisses, and it makes his dick twitch in his pants. You really are so fucking loud. And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

He uses his free hand to push your skirt up, and subsequently dip past the weak barrier of your tights and underwear. The slightest flicker of his fingers against your center has you choking out a moan, and Armin is forced to press his right thumb harder against your neck.

“Quiet,” he reminds you, “You asked nicely, so I’ll give you what you want. No need to be loud about it.”

He watches you nod with short and restricted movements, a sadistic kind of power washing over him at your eager compliance. He uses his middle finger to rub slow, careful circles around your clit; the feeling of your wet cunt against his fingers, coupled with your wanton moaning only spurs on the throbbing in his pants.

“Armin,” you whine, impatiently; but he expected that of you, “Don’t tease.”

His eyes flash to yours briefly, pressing his lips to yours again to swallow your shuddered moans. He dips his tongue into your mouth at the same time he does his middle finger into your cunt. An obscene moan echoing through the classroom, as Armin feels your body arching into his again; feels your fingers frantically flying to his hair, searching for purchase to anchor yourself on.

He pulls away in time to add another digit and watch you groan underneath him. He pushes both his fingers in to the knuckle, carefully curling them upwards to elicit the prettiest sound out of you. He has to admit, it’s probably his favorite thing to hear come out of your mouth.

He keeps a steady pace, pumping his fingers in and out of your pussy with perfect friction, teetering between letting you moan his name and choking you silent. Your hands are frantic in his hair, grasping and pulling and so, so, desperate, Armin can’t help but to finger fuck you harder.

“You want one more?” he questions, but his voice is taunting, words ghosted over your lips just out of reach for you to kiss.

He can feel your leg trembling against his, see you pupils shaking along with your shaking head. Armin stops to smile; he thought you might do that. He could probably make you cry right now if he wanted to. Maybe later.

“Want you to fuck me,” your words short and ragged, eyebrows raised when he uses his thumb to press lightly against your clit, “Armin, please.”

The blonde shakes his head, “You’re dumber than you look if you think I’m gonna fuck you in a classroom, baby, so if you want to cum now, you better tell me.”

You have the audacity to pout of all things, “You’re mean.”

Armin lets out a breathless laugh. “You like it,” he leans forward to peck you sweetly, “So, what’ll it be?”

“Fine, but I want head later, too,” you tell him, words becoming less firm when Armin teases his ring finger against your slit, “Please.”

Armin hums in compliance, leaning forward to kiss you again, this time with more tact, and he chases your whines when he finally pushes a third finger inside of you.

“Look at you,” he croons breaking your kiss and forcing your head back again, “You take it so well.”

“Ah—fuck, there, Armin—there,” you cry, wet heat squeezing around his fingers in intermittent spasms.

Armin watches your chest heave with desperate breaths, air stuttering to pass from your lips to your lungs with his hand around your neck. He can feel your walls constricting around his fingers, feel your body shaking underneath him when he increases his pace. He curls his fingers again, just right, just until he hears you sing a strained call of his name. And when he feels your nails scraping down the nape of his neck, and the slight weight of your body convulsing, Armin knows you’re done for.

He’s nice enough to fuck you through your orgasm, shallow thrusts of his fingers bringing you to and down from your high as he watches you pant for him. He presses small kisses against your throat, up, up, up, until he’s kissing you, and carefully pulling his fingers out.

He removes his hand from your neck, and slides it down your waist to offer you support. He’s not prepared for your sudden pull on his neck, forcing him into a kiss that conveys your content; he’s quick to raise his left hand, palm meeting the wall to hold himself up against your sporadic actions, chuckling lightly into your kiss. You were always so reckless and happy after an orgasm.

You kiss him like you have him wrapped your finger despite being the one pleading moments ago. You do, so he supposes it’s not unwarranted; and he welcomes your flirtatious kisses despite the annoying blush they always bring forth.

And sure enough, he can feel his face on fire when you pull away. Armin scoffs internally at himself; he really should be able to keep it together around you by now. But when you kiss him like that, you kind of make it hard to think straight.

“You’re so good when you’re not… pretending to be good,” you hum, a blissful, hazy look on your features as you wrap your arms around his neck.

Armin shakes his head with a chortle of disbelief; leans forward to kiss you again, “’M not pretending. I am good.”

“Yeah, you’re such a good little saint that arguing with your girlfriend turns you on,” you taunt him, “It’s okay, Armin, you can admit it.”

He groans, out of shallow annoyance this time, and it makes you giggle. “Why are you acting like you’re not complicit in this?”

“Oh, no, no, no,” you refute with an exaggerated roll of your eyes, “You get turned on by hearing me talk about biochemistry. I like it when you tell me to shut up about it. We are not the same.”

“Yeah, because you look hot doing it,” he tells you, “Speaking of which, Eren called you hot today, so I kind of need you to slip a neurotoxin in his Gatorade.”

“Aw, Eren thinks I’m hot? Tell him I think he’s hot, too,” you bat your eyelashes at him, but Armin only offers you an unimpressed glare in return.

“I think he might be onto us, actually,” Armin notes, affectionately bumping his nose against yours.

“If he’s onto us, then it’s because you’re the one giving it away, not me.”

“Oh, because you could never do anything wrong, right?”

“Right,” you flash him an overconfident smile before reaching up to kiss to the tip of his nose, “See you’re so smart, baby.”

Armin shakes his head again in disbelief. You’re a handful, he can see that much.

“Come on,” he prompts, “We should go, I still have to finish my lab write up, and I know you haven’t started your paper.”

Armin tries to motion you forward, but is stopped when he feels your hand combing through his hair, and sees the genuine spark of concern in your eyes. “The one for your elective? I thought you said you were going to finish it on Monday.”

“I was,” Armin admits, “But then I didn’t.”

“You want me to help you with it?” you offer kindly, pushing his bangs back and letting your hands fall down the sides of his face, palms resting against his ears.

He nods gently, turning his head to press a kiss into your left palm, before wrapping his hand around your wrist, “I can help you outline your paper.”

You nod in return, and Armin spares one more kiss, before pulling your hand away to lace your fingers together.

Thankfully, nobody’s around to catch you exiting the classroom, or see you holding hands as you make your way out of the building and towards the bus stop. This was Armin’s favorite part of any Tuesday; the one time he could hold your hand on campus without the fear of getting caught by your friends.

He reasons that you guys should probably tell them soon, though, especially if Eren might have an idea of what’s going on. You were bound to get caught sooner rather than later. That, or Eren and Sasha would start meddling.

“If you think Eren knows, then Mikasa definitely knows,” you note, swinging your intertwined hands as you walk through the parking lot as a shortcut.

“Maybe if you actually remembered to hide Soup’s toys, there would be less evidence for her to piece together.”

“Yeah, well, maybe if you didn’t forget when your midterms are, I wouldn’t have to emergency cat sit the hour before Mikasa comes around, and there wouldn’t be any toys to hide in the first place.”

“I’m bad with dates, you know that!” Armin pouts, “I don’t say anything when you forget about ten page papers until four hours before they’re due.”

“You’re saying something right now, actually.”

“That’s not what I—you know, you’re so—”

Armin’s quiet when he feels your lips pressed against his cheekily, “Annoying. I know. You like it. You’re not very good at staying mad for very long.”

Armin’s tempted to roll his eyes yet again—he really needs to quit it, or at the very least, get your own temper under control before it’s irreversible and completely rubbed off on him—but takes the opportunity to kiss your forehead, instead.

“You’re lucky you’re cute.”

Your eyes twinkle under his affections. “And that you love me?”

He nods, “And that I love you.”

“And that you’re gonna fuck me before you make me write my paper when we get home, right?”

Armin chuckles and presses another kiss to your forehead, “We’ll see about that one.”

Hange huffs as they make their way through the parking. They always forget their keys in their office, and always, inconveniently park half-way across the campus. In their defense, this parking lot is free, and the one closest to the Medical Sciences building is not. So, really, capitalism is the one to blame for their frequent late night car lot strolls.

They hear two familiar voices bickering just as they’re about to step into their car, and are more than surprised to see their two favorite students walking together. Walking together and holding hands. Wait—you and Armin are walking together and holding hands?

Hange blinks for a moment, drowning out the sounds of the conversation after they see you two kiss. Their jaw practically falls to the asphalt and they might not blink for a full two minutes as they process what they just saw.

Their trance is broken when it finally, finally clicks together, and Hange has to try their hardest to contain their squeals before sitting in the driver’s seat, an overly forceful slam to the car door following. They waste no time fumbling with the pockets of their lab coat to fish out their phone, and make a call to their favorite math professor.

“Levi, I told you Arlert and (_____) had to know each other outside of class! I think they might be dating! You know what this means, right? I can have them both in the same lab without worrying they might start a chemical fire, and I won’t have to hire two brick heads this summer!”

Levi has never hung up a call more quickly in his life.

#aot x reader #snk x reader #armin x reader #aot imagines #snk imagines #armin smut #armin fluff #eren x reader

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ladyartemesia · 4 years ago

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TEASER: Kim Seokjin and the Mean Omega

Pairing: Nerd Alpha Kim Seokjin x Popular Omega Reader

Genre: A/B/O • Enemies to Lovers • (Sorta) College AU • Best Friend's Brother AU (Who is surprised? No one?)

Teaser Word Count: 3.6K

Teaser Warnings: A/B/O sexual dynamics • suggestive content

Rating: Explicit (18+) (Teaser is PG-13)

Summary: In the modern world, alphas are almost unheard of so why even bother learning about them? After all, as a spoiled (but reasonably kind-hearted) omega who is used to getting whatever she wants, you have better things to do. However, when unexpected circumstances throw you in the path of (extremely) nerdy and (probably?) shy Kim Seokjin, you're shocked to discover that he won't be wrapped around your little finger as easily as all the rest. Bringing that infuriating geek to his knees quickly becomes your personal mission in life... But it turns out that Kim Seokjin is not what he appears to be and the mean omega who eats beta boys for breakfast is about to get way more than she bargained for...

Author’s Note: This story would not be here without the love, support and friendship of my incredible support system. You talk with me, you laugh with me, you listen when I’m crying, and you read my chaotic drafts when I am ready to pull my hair out of my head in frustration. I love you all. @ppersonna @xjoonchildx @untaemedqueen @lemonjoonah. ALSO thank you to each and every one of you who encouraged me to post this story. This fic is dedicated to all of you as a token of my love and appreciation. Your support keeps me writing. Never doubt that for a second.

“...due to discriminatory anti-alpha policies in the late nineteenth and early twentieth century, alphas were nearly eliminated from the general population…��

You heaved a weary sigh and rolled your shoulders—stretching the buttons of your high-end Oxford shirt to their limit. The beta sophomore to your right whined audibly and you smirked.

“...despite efforts to restore the genetic balance of designations, alphas currently comprise less than one percent of the population…”

Your back arched slightly as you crossed your legs, letting the absurdly short hem of your skirt ride up even higher. The poor boy you were tormenting shifted miserably in his seat.

How was he supposed to focus on a Human Biology and Designation Studies lecture when the living breathing embodiment of every sweaty undergrad’s fantasies was twisting her fingers in her hair and wrapping her pretty pink tongue around a strawberry lollipop right there in the middle of class?

“...unlike betas and omegas, alphas possess enhanced strength and the ability to compel other designations with their voice. Unmated alphas especially were often baselessly feared and distrusted...”

You knew exactly how you affected boys like him. You were a shameless tease who relished their attention and the power it brought you. Who needed drugs when driving a man mad with desire was a rush more potent than any high?

“...and that’s all for today so please read pages 450-466 in the text over break and remember to turn in your essay on scent and consent in intimacy—”

That poor sophomore looked like he had finally worked up the courage to speak to you, but you were already out the door and tearing down the hall toward your beautiful (and entirely platonic) counterpart, Kim Taehyung.

“Do you think Professor Moore is unaware that class is over at 3:25 or is he just torturing us for science?”

Taehyung shrugged, falling into step beside you with practiced ease.

“I mean I would torture you for free so it’s hard to say.”

The corner of your mouth quirked up at his characteristic dry humor, but the irritation at being held in that sweltering lecture hall for an extra ten minutes had frayed your temper.

“It’s the last class before spring break, I’m sure he was on some sort of twisted power trip.” You dug around in your purse for some chapstick, ignoring Tae’s amused snorting, “Alphas barely exist anymore and none of us are likely to meet one. Why bother learning what they can do?”

Taehyung tilted his head in amusement.

“You might be surprised.”

The final party before the beginning of spring break was always a laid back affair.

Many people had already caught planes to their various destinations, but your flight was scheduled for early tomorrow morning—leaving you with some time to kill.

Taehyung pressed his newest experimental concoction into your hand within minutes of entering the house (a surprisingly neat bachelor pad owned by two seniors, Jung Hoseok and Min Yoongi) and then darted back to the kitchen to craft more questionable alcohol potions like a deranged party warlock.

You had just found a comfortable place on the couch and were contemplating whether sampling your best friend’s mad scientist elixir would be worth the probable damage to your body when—

“H-Hello...”

It was that sophomore from your Designations Studies class. What was his name again? Jungwoo? Jinwook?

“Jungkook,” you smiled, delighted to have remembered before it became awkward. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

You motioned to the empty cushion next to you and the man in question scrambled over like he’d won the lottery.

“I—I know we don’t know each other well, but I noticed you were absent during Professor Moore’s lecture on intimacy and scent consent so I—” he blushed deeply, “I wrote the essay for you—and I brought a copy on my flash drive if-if you want it.”

Your heart melted immediately.

“Oh my gosh Jungkook, that is so sweet of you!”

Your gaze darted over his muscular form and thick brown curls.

Sweet indeed.

“I don’t want to miss out on the learning though,” you pouted, placing a hand on his tattooed bicep. “Can you explain it to me?”

Jungkook nodded vigorously even as his wide eyes fell to where your fingers were sliding slowly over his chest.

Scent consent was a pretty basic and universally known concept, but you really were touched by the handsome sophomore's consideration.

Why not give him (and yourself) a little reward?

“Um so basically if two people are involved in...intimate activities—”

You leaned forward to nip his ear lightly and he whimpered.

“Like this?” you asked innocently.

“Y-Yes. Like that.” He gulped. “In an intimate situation consent or refusal can be smelled. The scent of refusal or reluctance in intimacy is strong, unmistakable, and has a high chemical potency.”

“Is that so?” you drawled, sliding over onto his lap. Jungkook’s eyes rolled back into his head and you bit back a grin.

He was adorable.

“Uh-huh—it—oh my gawd,” (you were nibbling on his ear again) “it can immediately block sexual arousal and performance in the other partner. Meaning, if consent is not present, then it becomes difficult or—ahh” (his voice began to waver under your continued attention) “—or even impossible to continue with intimate acts.”

Your hand slid up to his cheek, bringing him closer till your lips were almost touching.

“Then what does it mean if I’m still so turned on right now?”

“It means,” Jungkook shuddered—nearly delirious with your scent, “that I really really want you.”

Across the room, Park Jimin chuckled as he watched you seduce his enthusiastic friend.

Jeon Jungkook was such a sweet kid.

Hopefully he wouldn’t get too attached.

“Wow... Some people are genuinely born blessed I suppose.”

Jimin turned to see Jung Hoseok eyeing the dimly lit corner where you and the eager young sophomore were exploring each other.

It was a rather...provocative spectacle. Not quite raunchy (you weren’t truly an exhibitionist)—just insanely sexy.

Jimin’s gaze lingered on the smooth curve of your thigh where Jeon Jungkook was currently holding on for dear life.

Lucky bastard.

“Ah you know how she is,” he sighed. “That boy isn’t going to get any farther than anyone else.”

It was relatively common knowledge that you liked to mess around but rarely—if ever— fully hooked up with anyone.

Jimin asked you about it once during a drunken game of truth or dare and you had just shrugged, mumbling something along the lines of avoiding STDs (which—to be fair—was at least part of your motivation), but the truth was a little more complicated than that.

In terms of experience, you weren’t a virgin, but... you hadn’t actually had sex in years.

You loved the chase, the foreplay, the build-up—the game of cat-and-mouse between two people who were attracted to one another.

But the final consummation was always so…

Wildly unfulfilling.

Every encounter left you frustrated. Empty.

Grumpy—even.

So you stopped bothering with it all together. (That was what sex toys were for after all.)

At the end of the day you were perfectly content being labeled a tease—it meant that people tended to know what they were (or rather weren’t) getting into when they rolled the dice with you.

Besides…it hadn’t even put a dent in your throng of admirers.

You were sunny, spoiled, indulgent, almost universally adored—

And you loved every minute of it.

“You know…” Hoseok took a long sip of his drink. “I always thought she would end up with Taehyung, but it’s been three years.”

Like you, Kim Taehyung was a trust fund brat and it was only natural that two beautiful and absurdly privileged people would gravitate to one another. You met at a freshman pledge party and had been an inseparable (and formidable) dynamic duo ever since.

The undisputed king and queen of campus.

Yes—maybe the two of you were a little self-absorbed at times, but it was hardly your fault that people tended to instinctively cater to the force of your combined looks, wealth, and charisma.

And it didn’t hurt that neither of you were ever intentionally cruel or unkind.

Just... habitually thoughtless.

(Though not when it came to each other. If anything your friendship was one area where you were both a little more human.)

Jimin shook his head.

“Nah that’s never gonna happen.” He tapped his nose. “They’re scent-crossed.”

Hoseok’s eyes widened.

“Really?”

Scent-crossed pairs didn’t smell sexually attractive to each other.

Like. At all.

No matter how physically or visually appealing an individual might be, it would be near impossible to form a sexual or romantic attachment to them if you were scent-crossed. Alphas, betas, and omegas were all subject to their noses first and foremost in the realm of attraction.

You and Taehyung smelled like comfort and home to one another...

But you were more turned on by a crisp cup of apple juice than you were his scent and the feeling was quite mutual.

He might as well have been your actual brother.

“That explains so much.” Hoseok snorted as he watched a drunken Taehyung do a flying leap on top of both you and Jungkook.

“Why is sunlight so offensive?” you croaked, dragging yourself and your luggage toward the boarding ramp next to an equally miserable Taehyung.

“The next time I book a flight before 9 AM, please shoot me,” he grunted.

Your parents were celebrating their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary with a month-long European cruise so your best friend had graciously invited you to spend two glorious weeks of spring vacation at his family estate.

The invitation had actually come as somewhat of a surprise because—for all your closeness—Taehyung was uncharacteristically tight-lipped about his family.

Not that he was deliberately withholding information per se… It was just that he never really brought them up beyond an occasional passing comment.

The one time you did ask him about them directly he sighed and said—

“We’re very close, but… I suppose we’ve just gotten used to being very private.”

There was clearly more to the story, but you were confident that Tae would share it if and when he was ready.

“My parents are in Seoul opening a new branch of the company. They took my little sister with them and my older brother has his own house so it will be just us.” He snuggled deeper into the first class seat directly next to yours. “We’ll hang out by the pool and chill during the day, then hit up some of the new clubs or whatever at night.”

“So… No one from your family will be there?”

Perhaps the invitation was not so surprising after all.

“Nope. Just you and me and thirty acres of ocean front property.”

You grinned.

“Perfect.”

“Whose room is that?”

The two of you were lugging your bags down the main hall of Taehyung’s expansive mansion when a strange hint of...something caught you right by the nose.

Your friend turned to find you frozen and staring curiously at a familiar door near the balcony.

His eyes widened, but you were too preoccupied to notice his momentary concern.

“That’s just Jin’s room.”

A firm hand wrapped around your wrist and dragged you away, but your eyes stayed glued to the source of the mysterious scent until you were around the corner and out of sight.

Your suite for the next two weeks was right across the hall from Taehyung’s. There was a whirlpool, a full bath, a balcony, and an ocean view that would rival the cover spread of any travel magazine.

Tae headed for the shower (to ‘wash the airplane off’) immediately after showing you the room and you were thinking of doing the same except…

Your mind kept going back to that door and the hint of scent you detected.

There was something… different about it.

It was faint—and far from fresh (which made sense considering that one of the few things you did know about Kim Seokjin was that he hadn’t lived in this house for years).

But still…

The need to smell it again pressed insistently at the back of your mind.

Suddenly the sound of Taehyung singing raunchy lyrics in the shower carried over through the walls and you found your feet moving almost of their own accord.

What Tae doesn’t know won’t hurt him, you rationalized, making your way down the hall toward Jin’s door. Besides—it’s not as if I’m going to steal anything…

You just needed to find that scent again.

By the time your fingers closed over the knob every one of your nerves was strangely—acutely—alert but nothing could have prepared you for what was waiting behind the door.

Oh. My. Gosh.

“What a colossal nerd.”

The room was covered floor to ceiling in Nintendo memorabilia.

Bright primary colors assaulted your eyes from all directions in the form of action figures, posters, pillows, and every other conceivable merch variety known to man.

In the center of the suite stood a large king-sized bed covered in a custom black couture toile-style Mario-verse bed set (that looked every bit as expensive as it was geeky) and a mountain of high quality Nintendo character plush toys.

Everything was simultaneously luxe and nostalgic—a rare combination of sophisticated aesthetic balance and childlike indulgence.

And the scent was there.

It was faint and covered under layers of cleaner and air fresheners, but still lingering just below the surface—too weak for you to get a really good whiff, yet potent enough to torment you.

You moved forward unconsciously toward the strongest source of the hypnotic smell—the strangely inviting expanse of Kim Seokjin’s mattress.

Suddenly the urge to climb—no crawl—across the bed itself and roll around in it like a kitten in catnip gripped you out of nowhere.

“What the hell?” you muttered, rubbing absently over the mating gland at the base of your neck.

Something very odd was going on with your body.

Your restless gaze zeroed in on one of the stuffed toys piled atop his pillows. It was a cute little mushroom man your brain recognized as a Mario character named ‘Toad’.

Take it.

Your mouth dropped open in shock.

You need it.

“Am I going insane?” you wondered aloud.

You have to take it.

Muscles in your hand began to twitch involuntarily. You bit your lip.

Bring it back with you.

Several minutes later a freshly washed Taehyung wandered over to your room and found you sitting perfectly still on your bed while staring off into space.

His head tilted in curious concern.

“Everything ok?”

You started a bit at the sound of his voice, but recovered quickly.

“Never better!” you chirped—almost too brightly. “Let’s go get some dinner, I’m starving.”

Then you grabbed his hand and pulled him down the hall toward the kitchen—shutting the door before he could catch a glimpse of his brother’s stuffed Toad doll stashed underneath your pillow

“...a critical water main rupture in the city’s New Market district early this morning has forced several residents out of their homes as flood water swelled up to nearly two feet. The governor declared a state of emergency and ordered hotels around the city to accommodate the displaced citizens. Crews are still clearing the water and assessing damages. We expect—

“Hey!” you shouted through a mouthful of cereal, after Your best friend switched off the television, “I was watching that!”

“And what you should be doing is getting ready for the pool.” Tae snatched your cereal bowl and dragged you by your shirt collar toward the stairs. “It is the first morning of our vacation. I’m not trying to waste any time. Now go.” He shoved you forward, smacking your ass for good measure.

You swatted back at him half-heartedly as jogged back up to the room where you enjoyed a surprisingly restful sleep last night.

Kim Seokjin’s door glared at you accusingly as you shuffled past—unable to let you forget that you had kidnapped it’s little mushroom man in an unexplained fit of kleptomania, but that was a problem for your future self.

The you of right now was going to zen out in the Kim family's premium glass-enclosed indoor pool (it was still a little chilly for the outdoor pool) with her best friend and bask in the simple joys of good company and no responsibility.

...Or not.

A few minutes later you bounced into the living room wearing a simple black tankini with a cute floral cover only to find Taehyung on the phone with his head in his hands.

“Yes, sir. I understand… I...I know this is my responsibility...”

That didn’t sound good.

After a few more tense moments, Tae hung up and collapsed backward into the couch with a heavy sigh.

“That water main break you heard about on TV this morning was the last straw between the province and its current contractor. They called an emergency meeting for new bids.”

Your heart dropped as you sank down beside him.

“Your dad wants you to go...doesn’t he.”

Taehyung nodded miserably.

“He can’t leave the Seoul opening on such short notice and managing government construction contracts is part of what I’ve been training for. This could be huge for our company.”

“Well...why doesn’t your brother go?”

“Jin is the brains behind most of our patented gaming and tech innovations. He wouldn’t even know where to begin with this sort of thing. Besides,” his lips quirked up in a rueful grin, “my brother doesn’t have the patience to stroke entitled geriatric egos for hours on end—which is likely what I’m going to have to do.”

The two of you headed back to Taehyung’s room where you helped him pack some suits and toiletries for his trip.

Naturally you were disappointed but...this was a great opportunity for your best friend to prove himself in his chosen field and you both knew it. In fact, he was already starting to brighten a bit.

“The meeting is about a hundred miles north of here. My dad’s secretary already handled the flight and hotel room.” His eyes darted around the suite to see if he was forgetting anything.

It was clear he was nervous, though you were sure he didn’t need to be. Kim Taehyung was a trust fund brat, but he was also talented and deeply passionate about his family’s company.

Someday this would be the norm. The two of you were stealing time in college, determined to live a little before the expectations of your powerful families transferred fully onto your shoulders.

It was becoming more and more clear, however, that your carefree time was slowly running out.

Mother had already spoken to you about potential marriage alliances and your father expected you to intern with his Vice President this summer just as your elder sister had...

Taehyung’s voice suddenly interrupted your bittersweet introspection and you couldn’t help but smile at how grown-up he looked in his suit and briefcase ensemble.

Everything was going to change, but not quite yet.

“They estimate negotiations should take around a week or so…” He walked over and pulled you into a tight hug. “There should still be some vacation left for us when I get back.”

“Hurry back then,” you mumbled grumpily into his chest and he chuckled.

“I will.”

Taehyung had been gone for less than twenty minutes when you decided that the best use of your time would be to eat more snacks.

The last thing you expected when you skipped merrily into the kitchen was to find it occupied by a shaggy-haired homeless man in glasses.

Your first instinct was to scream which caused the homeless man to drop the apple he was biting right onto the floor where it rolled around for a small eternity before coming to rest at his ankles.

Your second instinct was to grab a butcher’s cleaver from the nearby knife block and wave it chaotically at the intruder while shouting something along the lines of—

“You’ve made a huge mistake! My boyfriend is the biggest, meanest mafia boss in Seoul! Leave now and he might let you live!”

The homeless man continued to stare at you with a mixture of confusion and shock, but made no move to run away in terror like you were hoping.

So you tried again.

“Didn’t you hear what I said?! The last man who touched me drinks his steak through a straw now! Do the smart thing and leave before my boyfriend comes down those stairs and it’s too late!”

Infuriatingly, the homeless man was still not fleeing for his life and frankly you were starting to get frustrated. You drew in a deep cleansing breath and were prepared to issue another grandiose threat when he finally spoke.

“I’m sorry, miss. I... think there’s been some sort of mistake. Who is your boyfriend?”

There was no rational explanation for what came out of your mouth next, but it rolled off your tongue so smoothly and you didn’t even flinch.

“Kim Seokjin.”

For the first time in your entire exchange, the intruder looked truly alarmed.

Now that’s more like it.

“You’ve heard of him I see. He’s a dangerous man and my body belongs to him.” You slammed the cleaver down onto the countertop with a (hopefully) menacing slash. “Kim Seokjin doesn’t like when other men put their hands on what belongs to him.”

There was a long, unpardonably tense moment of silence…Then the stranger slowly reached forward and picked up a mobile phone from the table in front of him.

His eyes remained locked with yours as he pressed a quick series of buttons, brought the phone to his ear, waited a few seconds and said—

“Taehyung… Would you mind telling me why there is a half-naked, knife-wielding omega in our kitchen claiming to be my girlfriend?”

Hello! Please comment on this post if you would like to be added to the taglist!

You guys were all so wonderful, and encouraging, and excited that I literally got this teaser out in three days! If you like what you read so far, please let me know! I cannot put into words how meaningful and valuable feedback is to me. I truly treasure it! It fuels my creativity and keeps me writing. I would love to hear from you!

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waffliesinyoface · 3 years ago

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*looks at the comment sections of stuff involving Deltarune Ch 2 secrets*

ah. I see some fans are already missing the point in record time. (spoilers below cut)

okay, so. Undertale’s whole theme was talking about player choice. Especially in the murder route, where Flowey literally turns to the camera and goes “yeah I had fun saving everyone but then they got a little boring and stale because they just say the same lines of dialogue over and over. So, to mix it up, and to see more dialogue, I went around killing people to see what’d change!”

This is. a literal. direct. parallel. to what you, the player, are doing. He even mentions “some people are probably watching this right now, too scared to do it themselves”, ie: people watching a lets play because they want it to happen, but want to distance themselves from it because they’d feel guilty pushing the button.

Despite all that. The fandom latches hard onto the idea of “Chara”, and 99.999% of all discussion, art, and discourse about genocide is “look at chara, they’re so evil, they love killing people, poor frisk” and its like. no, no, they don’t matter, you get that, right? The Fallen Human is a footnote. An interesting tidbit of lore. The person. responsible. is. you. That’s the theme of the game. IT’S. YOU.

...So, how does this tie into Deltarune?

Deltarune’s theme, from what I can tell, is similar, but from a different angle, and in a different genre. It’s not just an RPG, it’s an RPG with [Party Characters]. And, for good or for bad, you have the final say in what those characters do.

This is why, in Chapter 1, only Kris has the [Act] command, where they can tell the other characters to do stuff. In Chapter 2, Susie’s like “hey that’s dumb, why can’t I decide?” and Ralsei* goes “uh, that’s Kris’s job-” before getting cut off and by Susie going “shut up nerd”

(*more on Ralsei later)

But then! You get Noelle. And that’s where the story can change. In the normal route, the expected route, she goes along with you, but at the same time is like “uh, I just have to do whatever you say? o-okay, I guess?? That’s kinda weird, but, uh, sure???” You tell her to spare monsters, and she does so without complaint.

But.

Even if she doesn’t want to, even if it scares her, the player is in control. And what do you do when you get a new, weak party member? You backtrack a bit to grind exp on weak enemies. She doesn’t want to. She has no say in the matter.

It’s the equivalent of a character like Marianne in Fire Emblem. She’s designed to be “The Healer”, she has the appearance, attitude, and dialogue of someone who wants to stay in the back casting heal spells. ...But that MAG growth sure is tempting, isn’t it? What if you reclassed her to be a Black Mage instead?

The only difference being, Noelle is vocally not fond of this. It doesn’t change anything, but you can see her becoming more and more horrified.

You get to town, and wander around a bit. You find a shop. Go through some dialogue options (where you affirm she’s not your friend, she’s your party member something else) and the shopkeep offers to sell you a ring.

“Sweet,” you think, “something better than the starting gear.”

It’s too expensive.

Well... that’s just too bad, isn’t it? But hey, that’s a common trope, an early shopkeeper with a rare weapon as a drop. It’s not like it’s something you haven’t done before, right? It’s a good weapon. You won’t come back here anyways, so there’s no harm done.

Anyways, this sort of behavior culminates in a spectacularly fucked up fashion, but the point of it is the same - you, the player, are in control. No matter what your party members say. Every button press is something you, the player are doing.

So, of course. Like “Chara” before them, I’m already seeing people assigning responsibility of these actions to Kris.

Despite the fact that this game literally has Kris wrest control away from the player to do their own thing. That, you can blame them for. But everything else is all you. For good or for ill.

-------------------

Anyways, unrelated to the fanbase blaming Kris, but still tying into the themes of “player control”, we have the secret boss. Who talks about severing puppet strings, wanting to be free, etc. And ends his dialogue with “maybe you can free yourselves as well” or thereabouts.

Susie, afterwards, is like “hey what the fuck was that all about? That was freaky, right?? And what was he talking about with all that crap about puppet strings”, to which Ralsei responds “no, you’re overthinking it, it’s just a weird superboss, don’t worry about it”

Which is interesting. First, he didn’t like the idea of anyone but Kris being able to [Act], and now he wants Susie and Kris to dismiss everything they just heard. Puppet strings? There are no puppet strings here. What are you talking about, Susie? Don’t be ridiculous.

Furthermore, an interesting trait of Susie is that you can’t un-equip her items. She won’t let you. If you want Ralsei or Kris to give you their equipment, sure, they’re fair game. Susie refuses unless you’re swapping it for something else. And she refuses to wear certain items. And (in ch 1) she initially won’t listen to you in battle at all. And she’ll override your choice with “why does Kris always get to pick, screw that, it’s my turn”

Kris is the player’s vessel, and as such, has no control over anything outside of cutscenes, when the player has no control. Susie, even in chapter 2, does things like “having opinions”. Ralsei is the player’s enabler, who wants their input on everything.

“Here, Kris, have a manual!” (a literal game manual) “Hey Susie, why not try letting Kris tell you what to do?” (become a proper party member) “Hey Kris, what do you think about this?” “Hey Kris, why not pick who you want to explore with?” “Hey Kris, do you wonder what Susie’s doing right now? Why not close your eyes and imagine...” (in the following scene, your choices don’t matter. At all. You have no control over Susie’s dialogue.)

#deltarune #deltarune chapter 2 #underneath the readmore: Spoilers; more spoilers; and spoilers which require context #its a free game and you can play it in a couple hours so just do that first if you really care cmon now #undertale #also gets a mention

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catastrophe-at-sixteen · 4 years ago

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strawberries and cigarettes (m)

Jungkook x reader

“For a biology project, you and your class are going on a field trip to collect evidence for your hypothesis. It is all going well until the dark haired nuisance called Jeon Jungkook decides to piss you off.”

Also - a nerd. The resident bad boy. The police. Annoying friends. A loose psycho killer. What could go wrong?

This is my first time ever uploading any fics !! im super nervous haha - i'll probably post a little of each one and see how it goes !!

Jungkook x reader.

This is your classic enemies to lovers but with a slight little twist!

This is set in the 80s/90s and is your typical bad boy/nerd girl trope- but , there is a killer on the loose. I mean this is kind of based on jack the ripper (serial killer) and my teenage fantasies of falling for bad boy jungkook. I hope you’ll give it a go and tell me what you think !!! <3

Tw : cursing, killings, descriptions of death and psychopaths, masturbation , making out, smut.

WC : 11K

also a big massive thank you to @ggukkiereads for helping me gain the confidence to write and dedicate time to finishing this ! ik its been a while since we spoke but much love to u angel <3 may u always have the best !

Begrudgingly the students lag off the bus at 10pm, finally having reached their destination.

Tired and sore from their journey the teachers find no trouble in distributing bedrooms for everyone.

When your name is called out along with Tiffany you internally groan - great you think one of the most plastic girls in the school all to myself.

You grimace but make no argument as you could have gotten worse you suppose.

As you grab your belongings and ignore her protests that she doesn't want to room with a loser like you, a dark clad figure pushes past you, almost tripping you over.

Angrily you shout

"Watch where you're going you prick"!

Yet he doesn't so much look in your direction.

Under the dim moonlight you can faintly make out the low blunt of a cigarette in a tattoo clad hand - so it was the infamous Jungkook.

Honestly you didn't understand why all the girls fawned over him when he was just a rude and ignorant asshole. Sure, he had a pretty face but no good soul to match.

Calming yourself, as it was unlikely that you'd ever receive an apology from the school rebel you just head to your new room.

The school had organised a biology trip so that you could gather authentic evidence on the correlation of birds and wood growth in a certain designated area and honestly you were excited- not having enough expenses to get out of town when you were younger meant that this was a treat for you and paired with you being a biology major your inner geek was surfacing pretty quickly.

You move into your room and begin unpacking your things ignoring the chatter coming from your new roommates.

You set everything nicely, precisely -just to your liking. Maybe some would call you fussy, but you like to think of yourself as organised and classy.

You don’t have many thoughts that night as you lay down for bed, but you do hear the news playing in the background.

" a killing has not been sighted for a time breaking the pattern of the 1-week intervals in which they have been happening, but police still advise to remain on high alert at all times. "

You shudder as you think about it, a killer on the loose in the country and everyone powerless to stop him.

He fed of the insecurities of people, the fear of not being safe. He did a damn well good job at it as well.

You look outside and see the police on night duty setting up, the country while terrified also was reluctant to admit the threat and instead of protecting you properly they had merely sent police force units as glorified bodyguards to ' keep you safe '.

You sigh, as you climb under your covers those problems seem like a long way away from you as you drift off with an empty mind.

It was morning, the sun was shining brightly through the windows giving an orange glow to the room.

You were up before your roommates, had brushed your teeth and were already preparing for your project.

You had to do well, you were depending on a scholarship for university, your family could simply not afford it otherwise.

When your first signs of morning hunger begin to strike you venture outside your room in order to satiate yourself. You find that it’s still quiet only a few students up like yourself, you find a coffee machine and immediately begin to make one for yourself.

“While you're at it could you make one for me too".

a deep voice drawls out.

You almost jump out of your skin at the sound his voice breaking the silence you had been enjoying. Jeon Jungkook.

You scowl at him, choosing to ignore him carrying on making your own cup.

He whistles under his breath.

“wow, edgy or a bitch? I can’t decide".

He taunts you.

You roll your eyes at him and sigh in annoyance, his eyebrows raise at this.

“you’re clearly not a morning person".

He speaks.

You mutter under your breath.

" or maybe I’m just not a YOU person, not everyone lives to be nice to you. "

He lifts his hands up in a mock surrender.

“Okay, okay I get it it's a bad time for you jeez.... I suppose I'll have to make my own coffee".

He moves closer to you, totally invading your personal space, clearly, he had never heard of a personal bubble! You scowl and try to move away but he’s faster and is hovering over you before you know it. He looks down at you with those pretty dark eyes.

They’re so gorgeous.

Not that it matters to you because he is still an asshole, and he still ruined your morning.

“get out of my face Jeon Jungkook".

You say between clenched teeth.

You’re not some sort of pushover.

Yes, you're clever, as society classes a nerd but you're not one to let people walk all over you.

If he’s shocked, he doesn’t let on, just hums and lets you walk away, which you do, a little aggressively. You got back to your room and let out a sound of annoyance, the girls are still sleeping.

You sigh.

This was going to be a long trip.

After an uneventful morning, the wait was over and finally the teachers had called you to gather in the common area. Much to your dismay however there would be no actual data collecting until the police had secured the area, which meant that your whole day was pretty much wasted. The other students were chatting and gossiping and being idiots as per usual.

It’s not that you thought you were better than them, it's just that they were so mundane, so lifeless. They were just living on with no sense of direction. You suppose that's what you get for attending a school for rich kids though.

You could never fit in.

So, you never tried. People took pity on you every now and then offered you a smile. You smiled back but that was it. Your thoughts are running and to clear your head you decide to go outside for a little breather.

There isn’t much, just a few abandoned train tracks that seemingly lead into nowhere, a few broken fences and lots of grass. Not much time after this you head to bed.

Finally, the day had arrived, you could collect your samples.

You are so glad that it’s an individual project because you honestly cannot even imagine working with one of those air heads.

You shudder at the memory of having to work with Taehyung last semester for a chemistry practical.

You had to basically pull all the weight for your grade.

So, you get on working your way through your work and proving or disproving your hypothesis.

You’re pleased at the work that you completed. Not entirely satisfied but satisfied enough, for now.

You let out a stiff yawn, you need to stretch and need a little fresh air since you had spent the last few hours writing up your data and making graphs to compliment them.

You forgo your jacket since the weather isn’t so bad.

It’s nice.

When you go outside there are quite a few students already there, goofing around. There is also a pretty scenery, that in all honesty you had not appreciated until right now.

“Wow" you mutter under your breath.

Maybe I should try living outside my own head sometimes.

You spot some students surrounding a police officer and the curiosity gets the better of you and your soon wandering around the outskirts of their conversation.

Alas, it was merely a fruitless conversation. The police officer telling the other about his escapades and how they will be good in hands.

You lose yourself to your own thoughts again and look at the scenery. Until a little scuffle, breaks you out of your thoughts.

“What was that? There was a movement down there!! “

A boy called Josh calls out.

The police officer had also noticed it, then a sound of a gunshot sounds through the air.

The police officers curse and begin to get ready to scout the area. They want you all to go away, be safe inside but you’re all young adults- you want to see what’s going on.

Everyone gathers, watching the officers.

You scan the area; you spot the balcony that looks over the area just in front of the cabins.

Perfect you think that’s the perfect spot to see what’s going on.

So, you begin to climb up the steps to that room, when you get there, you can see everything.

You see a dead dog, a dead bird and the gun which had killed them laid out to where the officers were heading.

Fear grips your heart; your heartbeat is erratic. You think you see the shape of figure retreating into the distance but before you can look again, you feel the ground give way under you.

You let out a shriek, feeling yourself falling.

Is this truly how my life end you wonder I didn’t even get to complete my PhD?

Yet, instead of the hard fall that your body had been anticipating; your landing is softer and lets out a low grunt.

You're sure you're dead and have entered heaven.

Slowly you register a warm feeling under your legs and a secure one at your waist.

oh, this feels nice.

you think, eyes still closed until you hear some chaos in the distance.

what's happening?

Why is heaven so noisy? Are they partying because I’ve arrived? Was I actually an angel all this time am I coming home?

Ah you think this must be the angels- I knew all those days spent doing charity would help me.

You open your eyes and you’re met with bambi eyes staring back at you.

Slowly you begin to piece the rest of your angel together.

“Jeon Jungkook? “

You try and raise your voice to compliment your surprise, but it comes out in a more whisper.

“But this, Jungkook, you were an angel all this time? “you say.

His eyebrows knot together in confusion.

“What are you talking about strawberry?”

You gasp.

"Do we all get code names in heaven? You’re a pretty angel Jungkook. “

Then your eyes zero in on the scar on his cheek.

“Aren’t Angel’s supposed to be blemish free? Is that? Are you fallen? Wait.... for me? Are you my angel Jungkook? “

His eyes, which had previously shown confusion are now coloured with amusement.

“You talk a lot don’t you my little strawberry”.

You vaguely hear the sounds behind you before you begin to feel drowsy and fall limp the arms of your unexpected angel.

Jungkook was, of course no angel, your delirious ass was just doing and saying delirious things. You were going to be mortified when you woke up.

When you come to your room in a dark room, tucked into a warm bed. Your headaches aches as if someone is using a sledgehammer to hit it every second.

‘Agh’ you let out a pained groan.

What even happened? you wonder in your head.

You move quickly, getting out of bed ignoring your protesting limbs. You almost reach the doors until a pair of arms trap you.

‘woah woah where do you think you're going?’

You let out a scream, completely startled. A hand comes to cover your mouth.

‘man, you really do have a set of lungs, don’t you? ‘

You stop struggling in his embrace to match his voice to a face. Its familiar.

‘Jeon Jungkook?’ you let a little unsure and panic still evident in your voice.

‘your one and only’

You frown.

‘mine?’

He smirks at you,

‘that's right yours strawberry’.

You shake your head.

‘are you smoking something? Are you high right now?’

He pouts a little then, it changes his look completely. He looks a little cute.

‘you don't remember? ‘ he cocks his head to the side and points to himself. ‘I'm your angel’.

You scoff.

‘Please in what world are YOU an angel? You're far from it’.

Then it all comes back to you.

Jungkook watches as the realisation begins to show on your face.

‘Oh my god I had a concussion, you cannot be serious right now ‘

He chuckles.

'The words still came out of your mouth' Jungkook counters, he leans closer to you, his face way to close for your liking.

You feel your face grow warm from his proximity, but you don't give him the satisfaction of knowing that.

You scoff and push him away.

‘You're insane’.

He accepts the distance you've placed between the two of you and he chooses to smirk at you from where he is standing.

‘And you're crazy for me’.

You let out an incredulous laugh, not believing him.

‘Oh, my lord, please shut up for the sake of my sanity’.

He chuckles at your flustered state and you scramble your brain to find a change of subject.

‘okay whatever now just excuse me because I need to go back to my room’.

You move to begin walking to the door, but his voice halts your movements.

‘This is your room now’.

You whip around to face him.

‘What?! Ha as if Jeon, why would they room us together- were supposed to separate for the opposite genders- which I totally get when you're involved’ you say disbelief painting your voice. You whisper the last part though.

He puts his hands into his pockets and shrugs.

‘Protection?’

You set him a hard stare.

‘Save your lame ass men superiority talks for someone else i am having a severe case of I'm not interested’.

Why the hell would you need Jungkook for protection, it reeks of patriarchy and you hate it.

He shrugs.

‘Listen princess I don't know why either really to be honest but I'm not complaining-’

You don't bother entertaining him for much longer.

This can't be true. You cannot be paired into a room with him. He cannot be your new roommate - heck now tiffany doesn't seem so bad. Flirting asshole, you mutter under your breath as you begin searching for your teacher.

You only learn a bitter truth, due to the collapsing of the room you had to be relocated into another room and the only person without a roommate was Jungkook. They ‘trusted’ you enough that you would be able to handle it and not to do anything you were not supposed to.

‘We trust you, y/n’ was what she had told you.

You spend your time cursing out both her and Jungkook as you gather your belongings to move into your new room.

You're so caught up in your own thoughts that you don't notice a foot that comes out to trip you.

You look up and see the faces of three stupid bitches.

Tiffany Jessica and Irene.

They seemed to consider themselves above everybody else, though you've no idea why. Aside from flawless looks they seemed to live pretty empty life in your eyes. They were living definitions of empty shells walking around.

You get up quietly from the ground, you'll gain nothing from engaging with them, maybe you'd lose a few brainless. You just want to go back and rest - your head is killing you.

But to your disappointment they begin to talk.

‘Well, well well, if it isn't the school's new slut moving into MY boyfriend's room’.

You have to let a little laugh at this. This one is seriously deluded. Jungkook didn't do relationships you knew that. Everybody knew that. They had hooked up about 3 months ago and even though he does his best to ignore her she still insists that he is her boyfriend. It's just pathetic and a bit sad you suppose. Her obvious attraction to him which he just does not reciprocate.

She becomes enraged at your actions.

‘listen here you little bitch you better not even think of starting anything with my man-’ she spits out at you.

You snap back then, unable to hold your tongue.

‘I am not a slut, and I will not go after your man- which fyi he is not. He is a human and he doesn’t belong to you he never has’

She grows red at your words.

‘you little piece of shit-’

She raises her hand but just then a voice interrupts her and she halts her actions.

‘well if it isn't my new roomie, l’ll take that from you strawberry’ Jungkook says, too cheery for your liking, your still contemplating hitting Jessica.

Jessica begins speaking up, but he ignores her turning to you.

Your mouth almost drops open at his dismissal of Jessica but then again, she is annoying, and he cannot be immune to that.

‘Jungkoooook’ she whines when he doesn’t respond to her the first time.

He still doesn’t entertain her.

He moves to take your things from you, but she speaks again, latching onto his arm.

‘just leave her -cshe's just an annoying stuck-up bitch’.

He responds to this under his breath laughing.

‘reminds me of someone ’

She doesn't understand his comment.

‘huh?’ she says almost comically.

‘who baby?’ she pouts at him ‘my poor baby having to deal with such people, just leave with me and we can-’

‘no’ he sets her with a hard stare.

It's like she has forgotten that you're there, so you decide to use this to your advantage, letting Jungkook deal with them. You move to get your suitcase, but a hand stops yours. Its Jungkook.

‘I don’t think so strawberry - I'll be getting those for you’.

You turn to look at him scowl adorning your features.

‘I don’t need your help Jeon’.

He smirks at you.

‘no no - I insist’.

He dismisses Jessica with a wave of his hand and begins to walk away your suitcase in his hand, which prompts you to follow along.

‘What. Was. That. Jungkook?!’ you say when the door closes, you’re fuming because he had made it seem as though you were dating or doing things together which meant that they would keep bothering you, which is just something that you don’t want.

He turns around to face you.

‘oh, don’t get your panties in such a twist, I just needed to get the fuck away from her’.

He sounds angry and this is the Jungkook that you are more accustomed to. Not the flirty one you have been seeing. Hopefully he had given up on whatever he was trying to achieve with that. He was a rude asshole who was just to used to seeing things come out in his favour.

‘excuse me, you just fuelled her whack ass thoughts and next time don’t use me as your escape route’ you say matching his hostile tone.

‘oh, don’t be such a priss, it saved you as much as it saved me’.

An exasperated noise escapes your throat.

‘well maybe you should have kept it in your pants lover boy’.

He sets you with a hard stare.

‘oh, shut up - you don’t know me’ he grits out.

You cock your head to the side much like he had done to you earlier in the day.

‘hmmm I think I know you pretty well Jungkook, you're not as unreadable as you like to think, Jeon Jungkook the infamous bad boy who uses girls to fuel his ego and is used by girls to fuel their own ego and status quo among their own stupid--’

You do not get to finish you sentence however because you're harshly being pinned to the door. His grip on you is hard and it stings but you meet his gaze.

‘shut the fuck up y/n’ the tone of his voice is almost carnal, animal like.

You seriously had hit a nerve.

‘I go beyond your perceptions of me- you little miss goody two shoes’.

You spit back in his face.

‘I've yet to see you act more like a crazed rabbit Jungkook and to be honest I don’t plan on finding out the depths of your character either. I don’t fucking care about you’.

You push him aside and move to unpack your suitcase.

He mutters something under his breath that you can't hear, and he walks out slamming the door behind him.

‘well, that was fun’ you say and begin to take out your notes and books that you will need through the day.

When you wake up the next you feel like you’ve been hit by a ton of bricks. The painkillers had given you the illusion that you were okay. You look a mess, you're tired, you cannot believe that this happened. You had been looking forward to this for so long, they had told you that another student would be collecting your data. Your new roommate. Jeon Jungkook. He was going to be collecting your data.

This is preposterous! He would probably sabotage you on purpose! This cannot happen, but they wouldn’t budge from their choice. You huff as you look out of the window, where you could be collecting your data along with the other students. Darn you and your curiosity.

They always did say didn’t they- that curiosity killed the cat.

Your walking around the room, pacing- that’s how bored you are. You had reorganised your things 3 times and colour coded all you notes, redrew your graphs, you had done everything that you thought would keep you busy but here you are sitting with nothing to do. You look around the room see Jungkook's things laying on the ground.

You sigh into the empty room again and just lay down waiting for them to come back. You end up falling asleep.

You're stirred from your sleep, quite rudely by a book being thrown at the foot of your bed. You sit up, still groggy and look at Jungkook.

‘what the hell man’

He stares at you blankly.

‘There's your work priss’

You're not bothered by his hostile tone instead open the book and seeing what he had done, or you suppose looking at it what he had not done. The more you look at the work the more the frown on your face deepens.

‘what the hell is this Jungkook?’

He looks up at you annoyed.

‘the work? Thought you were meant to be a genius?’

You scowl at him.

‘this Jungkook? Is unacceptable a nursery kid could do way better than this !’

He rolls his eyes at you.

‘and? That’s what you're going to get priss so deal with it’.

You make an exasperated sigh.

‘you've used the wrong measurement and everything Jungkook’.

‘look - I don’t care. I didn’t want to do this for you anyway’.

‘like I wanted YOU to do it for me’.

You sigh,

You keep bumping into him everywhere, you know he is your roommate but he is always there at the cafeteria taking the last donut which you had been craving pushing in line, making unnecessary comments and he makes the room so messy!

It’s the same thing for the next few outings, Jungkook comes with the same half assed versions of the data you need.

You try, you really you try so hard to use the data sets he provided but its no use. They're absolutely useless, so you decide to take matters into your own hands.

Your going to sneak out early in the morning, you have to sneak past the guards which as you’ve gathered won't be as hard as one may think because they are not good or much invested in their job anyway.

You prepare yourself and head to set out in the morning. You quietly get up so as not to disturb or wake Jungkook. If he sees you, you know that there will be trouble.

You throw on a hoodie and grab a notebook, a pen and your watch. You have to be back before anyone can notice that you're gone. You steel yourself one last time, giving yourself a pep talk and sneak out. You hold your breath as you walk past the room of your supervisor and out the back door of the cabins.

This isn't so bad you think. Once you're out of sight of the guards and you think your safe, you let out a sigh of relief and do a little shimmy out of your happiness. You are so pleased and proud of yourself. What you didn’t know that behind you, watching your every move was a boy covered in tattoos with a cigarette in his hand watching you with an amused face.

Jungkook was, not as you thought asleep when you had snuck out. He was also outside, leaning on the side of the building a cigarette in his hand, he couldn’t sleep that night, it happened to him on most nights so he routinely wakes up to have a smoke. On this particular day there is not the usual eerie morning silence that he is used to, but a few grunts and hisses to accompany it. He furrows his brows.

Is that? He thinks y/n!?!?!?!?!?

No way he thinks what the hell is she up to?

Then he catches sight of your notebook and pen.

'Oh, what a nerd' he mutters under his breath. Then he smirks.

He can totally use this to his advantage.

He stubs his cigarette, pulls his hoodie over his head and follows you.

Your heart is still racing you honestly cannot believe that you. l/n f/n are doing this.

‘What a badass’ you say into the silence.

‘Badass? Sneaking out to do bloody work is your idea of badass?’ a voice speaks up behind you.

You shriek startled and are met with Jungkook.

Why is it always him?

‘what in the bloody tarnation's.... are you trying to kill me Jungkook?!’ you say putting your hand on your heart.

He grins pleased at the reaction he had elicited from you.

He cocks his head to the side.

‘what the hell are you doing here ?!’ you hiss at him.

‘could ask you the same thing strawberry’ he replies.

You look at him.

You were so sure that you had been quiet, how could he be here to ruin everything.

‘you do realise that I actually have name, and it's not strawberry’ you say to him.

He shrugs.

‘Yeah but you always smell like them’.

You scoff;

‘and you always reek of cigarettes.’

He frowns but then asks you again.

‘what are you doing here?’

You think of excuses,

‘I'm - I'm on a walk’ you say.

He lifts his eyebrow up.

‘a walk?’

You nod.

‘that's right for my daily exercise its been a pain to be stuck indoors’.

He snorts.

‘you're on a walk with your graph paper pad and pencil case?’

You curse inside your head.

‘yeah I am a nerd after all’ you say, hoping and praying that he’ll just let you go on your way.

He doesn’t

‘I don’t know, you look awfully suspicious to me, do tell why you're heading to the sight of our data collection points when the trail track is in the opposite direction?’ he says.

You rack your brains for an answer.

‘well, I like an adventure’ you say, standing straight.

‘oh, is that so?’ he says laughter infiltrating his tone.

‘yes’, you say meeting his eyes.

‘hmm’ he says ‘I don’t believe you’ he says.

‘do you wanna know what I think?’ he continues.

He takes one step closer to you.

‘I think that our resident miss goody two shoes is sneaking off when told specifically that she can't’ his gaze burns into yours

You feel yourself going red out of embarrassment.

‘I literally have no idea what you're talking about Jungkook' you say breathless.

He leans closer and you can feel his body heat, he continues to bore his eyes into your own and you almost fall into his gaze until you feel your book being snatched out of your hand.

‘HEY!’ you say reaching for it.

But he holds it higher than himself, opens it to the last written on page.

‘new data collection points’ he reads out ‘and oh would you look at that ! It has todays dates written on it’ he says looking down at you with a squint in his eyes.

You huff.

‘well obviously I had to do this because how on earth could I let your lame ass results and data reading be used for my final piece – I'm not looking to fail’ you say venom laced in every word.

He scowls at you.

‘there was nothing wrong with my results princess’ he grits out.

‘oh, please save it’ you snap back ‘you didn’t even use the same measurements – your hopeless’.

‘well, if I'm so fucking useless you should do my work for me’ he says.

You set him a level stare.

‘what?’

‘you heard me’ he says with a roll of his eyes.

‘and why in the hell would I do that? I don’t care if you fail Jungkook, heck I don’t care if you get kicked out’ you tell him.

He shakes his head.

‘well, I mean I could go back right now and tell Miss Taylor-’ he begins.

You narrow your eyes at him.

‘You wouldn’t dare’.

He holds a staring contest with you.

‘oh, wouldn’t I?’ he says.

You both hold each other's gazes before you give in.

You cannot believe the audacity of this asshole.

‘fine whatever asshole’ you say folding your arms and turning around.

He grins in victory and places your notebook back into your hands.

‘chop chop partner get to it’ he says.

You glare at him.

‘partners pull equal weight Jungkook ‘

He rolls his eyes.

‘I don’t really care – you just need to get a move on’.

You turn around no longer wanting to deal with his annoying ass.

You make it forward a few steps before you stop and turn around.

‘why are you following me?’ you ask him.

He rolls his eyes at your apparent dumbness.

‘well smartass, there is a killer on the loose if you didn’t know’.

You freeze up for a second,

Shit

You had almost forgotten. You don’t let him see that you're scared.

‘and? ‘ you say feigning composure.

‘what the hell are you going to do if he pops out of the woods anyway?’

He shrugs.

‘I dunno actually a lot more than you could do anyway’

You stare at him.

‘I could be a black belt in karate for all you know’.

He laughs.

‘okay princess whatever - I just need to make sure that you're not going to fuck this up’.

So, you turn going to the place you need to, to collect your data pieces.

With having to do Jungkook's work as well, it takes a lot longer to complete than you would have liked.

He is surprisingly bearable in the mornings that you both sneak off though. He doesn’t say much. Just watches you – pretends he isn't though.

You catch him once. Its been about 2 weeks since you started this godawful task, and Jungkook's notes and work were in dire need of help so its taking you time. This time however you meet his gaze before he is able to pull away.

You cock your head to the side.

‘what are you staring at?’ you say placing your hands on your hips.

He says something inaudible under his breath.

‘what was that?’

He snaps at you.

‘do you think you have tie to stand around making idle talk with me? The work ain’t going to do itself princess.’

You huff in annoyance.

How dare he! This was just plain wrong anyway I should not even be doing this, but you knew it was the only way. You couldn't risk getting caught and with Jungkook you wouldn't be surprised if he really did rat you out you to all the teachers. And if he did well, you wouldn’t be receiving a very good reference.

It was during an early morning that you hear Jungkook walk off into the distance. Probably to smoke, such a bad habit you tsk.

But you're also done for the day – so you begin to head back on your own.

You feel the grass brush against your feet as you walk back. You’re humming along to that song that was always on the radio, when you hear it. A little whimper - then a cry. You know that you shouldn’t go to look, you know that you're paying for your curiosity already and you don’t need another thing to happen, but you just cannot help yourself!

You follow the sound, going on a detour from the track.

You do consider yourself somewhat of a badass but a serial killer? Yeah, they kinda scare the shit out of you. You hold your breath and walk as quietly and slowly as you can. You hear the whimper again to your left but its deeper into the woods.

As you walk closer you see a pool of blood - your eyes widen, and your heartbeat becomes erratic.

‘what the fuck?’ you whisper into the silence.

You walk closer to the body of the animal and you can feel your knees grow a little weak you can see a white paper which has been tainted red with the blood of the animal that was killed.

You gasp, taking it up in your hands. Your hands also become stained with the redness.

It's in Morse code.

-.-- --- ..- / ... .... --- ..- .-.. -.. -. .----. - / -... . / .-- .- -. -.. . .-. .. -. --. / --- ..- - / .- .-.. --- -. .

(YOU SHOULDN'T BE WANDERING OUT ALONE)

You look at it for a while and rack your brains to be able to translate it but no such look. Your mind is busy running at 100miles per hour. As you try and clear your head and look at the note one more time, but a noise in the distance pulls you way from any semblance of concentration that you could have obtained.

You frantically look around trying to locate where the sound had come from. Your senses are all on a high right now. You shove the piece of paper into your pocket and begin to go back the way that you came. After the first few steps you begin running your head running wild with the idea of being found dead in ditch. Your nearly at the main path which you had strayed from. You make it onto the path, and you bend over catching your breath when two arms encircle you from behind.

You let out a scream.

A hand is placed over your mouth.

‘shut the fuck up y/n’.

You recognise THAT voice. Its Jeon Jungkook. Why is this motherfucker always trying to scare you? Your turn around and hit him on the chest,

‘what the actual hell Jeon, you gave me a bloody heat attack and a half’.

He doesn’t respond. He is looking at you, his eyebrows are furrowed and his eyes have a glint of anger. He is furious.

‘where the fuck did you go y/n?’ he says, he holds your wrist stopping you from hitting him again.

He holds it in the air holding your gaze.

‘I was.... walking back’ you didn't want him to know what you had found. He would probably tell you it was a bad idea to even translate it. Which it was, but what is life if not for taking risks?

You yank your hand from his grasp.

He looks at you an unreadable expression on his face.

“you’re a fucking liar “he says.

You scoff.

“oh please, what’s it to you anyway jungkook, you left me first “

He doesn’t say anything, but observes you, trying to look for signs of what you’re hiding.

He had found one too, a dead animal and a note written in Morse.

But he could read it and he knew he was in trouble

“Be careful, or your little girlfriend may be snatched from right under your arms “

He swore under his breath as he read it and immediately began to make his way back to you.

“strawberry?” he calls out but you’re not there.

You’re not there and he hates the feeling of dread that sits in his stomach.

He runs back the way you came, but he still finds no trace of you

“fucking hell where did she go?”

He almost gives up and is going to tell the police when you appear before him, out of breath and you look terrified.

He knows you’re lying, if you were where, you said you were, he would have seen you.

He narrows his eyes at you again.

“I left for two seconds and you ran off. Where the fuck did you go? “

He asks, he wants you tell him, needs you to, he’s overcome with this sense to protect you but you don’t trust him. He needs to change that.

He lets you believe that you have him fooled, that he believes your story and he begins to walk back to the cabins right before the call for breakfast is sounded. You follow after him breathing in a sigh of relief that he had believed you.

That night you find it difficult to sleep. You need to find out the meaning of the Morse code, but you don't have access to a book that will help you translate, meaning that you will have to ask around without looking too suspicious.

You decide that a police officer would do nicely, if you seem overly invested in their job, they would just give you the information.

You spot the officer who looks younger than most, you remember his name.

Park Jimin.

You approach him cautiously.

“Officer park?”

He turns around to face you, smiling softly.

Oh, he’s cute you think.

“yes miss?”

You smile at him warmly.

“nothing serious it’s just that I was wondering if you would like some company, it must be a little boring for you out here on your own “

You say to him and you’re glad you asked him because either way his face breaks out into a smile that has your heart fluttering.

“how very kind of you miss! And yes, a little company wouldn't hurt “, he grins at you.

As you strike up conversation, with the officer you fail to notice a figure dressed in black listening in on your conversation. Jungkook listens in as you try and get information out of officer. He knew it. You had also come across the same note, as he had. He wonders what yours said.

He leaves after a bit, leaving both of you oblivious to the fact that he was even there in the first place.

When you get back to your room, you see Jungkook sitting at the foot of his bed frown on his face.

You ignore him and write down the information you'd just got given by Officer Park. You felt a little bad manipulating him when he was so nice but you just had to know what it meant.

Jungkook speaks up.

“that was a nice conversation you were having with Officer Park “

He says,

You whip you’re head up to look at him and closing your notebook harshly.

“What? Were you eavesdropping on my conversation?”

He rolls his eyes

“Why would I be listening to the conservation of the school nerd with a cop? No, I just happened to hear in passing “

You let out a breath that you didn’t know you were holding.

“That’s mighty rude of y-" you begin to retort before he cuts you off

“what’s a biology nerd like you need with Morse code?” He asks.

Your mind malfunctions for a moment until you bring yourself back together.

“A little extra knowledge hurts no one you know?” you say appearing nonchalant.

He narrows his eyes

“I know it”

You look at him

“you do?”

He nods,

“why need something translating?” he tries.

You think about it, but ultimately decided against showing him the note you found.

You have no clue what it says. You don’t want him understanding before you do.

You shake your head,

“No, I don’t “

You say, deciding enough is enough and you need to sleep now to be up in the morning.

The next morning you sleep in, meaning that you couldn’t do the work that was set out for you. You stretch and moan as you get out of bed when you sit up and open your eyes fully your locks onto the Bambi ones from across the room. You let out a shriek!

‘What the hell why were you watching me you creeper!’ you say pointing a finger at Jungkook.

He rolls his eyes at you.

‘oh, please don’t flatter yourself’.

‘why didn’t you wake me up? Its so late !’ you question him.

He looks at you and says words that you don’t think that you would hear.

‘I think that we should lay off for a bit strawberry’

You look at him in shock

‘but why!?’

He doesn’t really give you much of an answer in his usual Jungkook manner.

You sigh.

Over the next few weeks, you rarely bump into Jungkook, you see him sometimes in the cafeteria and you can always feel him just watching you it makes you grow warm when you notice his staring.

Jungkook is also going crazy. You drive him crazy.

You guess that you'll have to work at the same pace as everyone, truthfully you had actually caught up with your work that was missed a while ago, you were just doing extra readings to stay ahead. One step ahead of everyone. But you guess that that is going to be changed now.

It had been a while since you had been on your morning trips with jungkook and though you hate to admit it, you kind of missed it.

He wasn't as bad company as you thought he would be, he was oddly quiet which meant that without him talking as much, you really got to admire his beauty. And good lord was he handsome, you understand why people are attracted to him, when his mouth is closed, he’s fine. Basically, you became a little horny when you saw him, it had been ages since you had had sex even masturbated, since you now had room with him.

Jungkook has such strong sharp features which sometimes go all soft, if he pouts while he’s thinking or a bird catches his attention, his eyes will go big and doe like. It's cute. Everybody had two sides you suppose, yours was your horny side (lol what)

Okay maybe, more time to admire him was a bad thing, you did not need to have sexual fantasies with him, no, that was a big no no.

It's been a few weeks since Jungkook had asked you to lay low for a while and in that time, you had been asking around about the killer to the police. You tried your best not to seem suspicious about it though, if they caught on – well it wouldn’t exactly end well. So, you make slow progress, you did make progress though, however.

You could now understand the note and while it scared you, it also ignited something in you that you didn’t even know that you possessed inside of you. You wanted to outdo him, you want to find him, lead him into a trap or something like that anyway. You want to catch him.

Something in the back of your mind is telling you begging you to stop being so stupid, but you ignore and continue to daydream about catching this bastard.

But it can only cure your boredom for a while – you get bored and what better to do when you're bored than to read erotica novels?

You had packed this book with you – the secrets of the alluring painter in France. You had taken to reading at night time on some nights.

Like tonight.

You need a wind down, so you pull out your book, and it has such racy scenes that leave you clenching around nothing.

Your sexual imagination goes wild when you read the erotica in the book and the way they make it seem so fiery, you were no virgin - you knew what sex was like, but never has it been close to the way it is in the book.

You’ve allowed yourself to fall into this horrible habit, at night, when Jungkook is asleep to touch yourself, play with yourself, pretending it is you who is being touched by Kim Taehyung the painter with many secrets.

You feel yourself growing more frustrated with each passage you read, it becomes a little irritating and, you have to touch yourself or you'll go crazy, the man in the book was doing it so well, so hot.

Kim Taehyung, he was described as an utter beauty, soft black hair and soft eyes, a deep voice that just made the reader swoon, you close your eyes and reach your hands down to your shorts, they slip past the hem.

You wish you could moan, wish that you could be vocal, like you were in your bedroom when it was just you and your pillow, but there was one big problem and that was Jeon Jungkook.

Why did you have to room with him?

You lighten your breathing and listen for signs of him being awake, but he seems to be breathing really deep, he is asleep you assure yourself.

You turn the lamp off, at the side of your bed, setting the book on the bedside table.

You trail your hand down your stomach, much like Taehyung had done to the main character, he slowly lets his fingers flutter over the top of her shorts, and you do the same. You build the tension, like it's his beautiful hands working against you.

You pause and let your fingers slip past the hem of your panties, you trace over the fabric covering you - first over your mound, stroking sensually.

How had Taehyung done it?

Right yes, he had used his nails slightly and grazed over lightly, a slight pressure but nothing that hurt - it was just enough to make you squirm under your own touch.

You feel your own wetness, feel how obscene it is in the darkness of the night.

Jungkook is right there, and while it scares you, it also thrills you, you feel a new wave of arousal and adrenaline when you remember he is there.

Slowly and as quietly as possible you shuffle, moving to take your shorts off, it's a little loud but you think that you're okay, Jungkook is out like a log. After a moment you continue to tease yourself.

Running your fingertips over your lips, pressing down on your hole and clenching, withholding the need to hiss.

You raise your hand further and your fingers land right at the centre of your pleasure.

Your clit. Oh, the beautiful bundle of nerves.

You cover your mouth with a hand to stifle the moan that you almost let out when you begin to rub small circles around the sensitive nub.

When you can’t get enough your panties are next to go, and when the cold air hits your wet centre you have to hold your breath, shaky.

You reach down and gather your slick slowly, spreading it all over your centre, making yourself drown in your own arousal, you use your middle and ring finger to slide up and down at a pace that leaves you edged and eager for more, you need to bring yourself to the very edge to get yourself the release that you’re after, you free hand travels up to your ever sensitive boobs, you play with them, brushing over the nipple, making them perk and then groping them while you rub at your clit.

A dirty thought crosses your mind, when you remember the boy who was asleep across from you.

What if, he was the one to touch, the one touching you, with those beautiful hands of his, those big hands.

You stifle another moan, as you think about him, hovering over you, giving it to you just right. You had heard that Jungkook could actually make a girl cum while having sex, that made you a little interested. It’s just he always opens his mouth and is an ass and ruins everything. But right now, in your imagination, only his looks and reputation matter, you twist and turn his character to be someone that you can gain pleasure from.

You can the pleasure increase and you begin to fasten your speed until you feel the signs of your orgasm and then you pull away. Edging yourself.

Your breathing is a little heavy and your work on controlling it, both your hands go to fondle your breasts and you unconsciously lift your hips, humping the air, you lean down again and enter three fingers easily into your own heat.

The squelching sound heard is deafening in the silent room, your cheeks burn red and you pull out slowly, so that was a no no, you would have to focus on your clit for you orgasm. Which was fine because you were so sensitive from playing with yourself, you know that it would only take a few more strokes to get there.

You press the fingers that were just inside of you, against your sensitive bud and you rub in slowly circles and then fastening your place and then slowing once more.

Jungkook comes into your mind again, ugh, now his lips, his pretty pink lips and the way he licks them, and the way they glisten under the sun. What if they were attached to your clit, if he was using his face to give you pleasure, like Taehyung had done to the main character of the novel, God it was so filthy.

Its driving you insane and you love it, the frustration will only make your release all the more powerful.

After a while you feel the fire blooming in your bottom of your stomach, and you quicken your pace to the point where you feel light and the waves of pleasure rack over your whole body.

You press your hand to your mouth again to conceal the gasps that are escaping you, you sigh and fall back onto your pillow feeling so much better and lighter.

Gosh did that feel good. You were aware that in your mind alarms were going off in your mind. You had thought of Jungkook while masturbating. It was a line you have no idea why you crossed. How would you look him in the eye now?

After a while, you pull up your panties and shorts and you promise yourself a shower in the morning.

What you didn't know was that the raven-haired boy of your fantasies was in fact awake and now painfully hard as he listened to your filthy little moans and gasps, he grabs his own member in his pants, strokes slowly. He spreads the pre-cum over his member before setting the fast pace that he liked, his breaths through his nose – to conceal the way his breathing has become strained. His hair becomes damp from sweat and it sticks to his forehead. He came much faster that he would care to admit the thought of you right there yet unreachable the fact that you were so NAUGHTY under all that good girl.

Turning him on, making him needy.

He breathes heavy, thinking of you under him as he squirts out cum into his pants, Jungkook too showers in the morning after you.

After this Jungkook stays up at night, listening to you, seeing if you would do it again, you do and, on those nights, Jungkook cums at the same time as you. He feels a little pathetic, he knows that he can fuck a lot of girls in the class right, but it wasn't you, God he wants it to be you writhing underneath him.

It’s the next morning and you're getting ready for your shower.

You're gathering your clothes and shampoo and creams into a little bundle and are about to open the door to the shower, when it is opened for you. The song that you were softly humming gets stuck in your throat when you register that the door was opened by Jungkook.

A very naked Jungkook.

Your face grows red, and your eyes wander over his gorgeous body, the tattoos that trail up his arm and a few on his waist, God they looked amazing.

Your ogling comes to a stop when he clears his throat. Oh, shit you think - I was staring. You quickly look up and your eyes meet Jungkook's.

He is smirking at you and as soon as you meet his gaze, he lets his own wander over body – taken in the skin that was exposed in your pyjama shorts and a t-shirt that had been small for you since you turned 13 years old.

He looks up and down your body brazenly before meeting your eyes. He licks his lips, and you zero in on it. God it was so annoying that he was this hot.

How could this be happening now? When you had spent a while avoiding him? And him you? Why did this happen after you were thinking of him last night? Oh god you grow red again and you think what if he had heard you? God, that would be embarrassing. You look at his lips again, avoiding his gaze again but maybe his eyes would have been a better option because as soon as you look at his lips, the same filthy thoughts come back to you - you shift uncomfortably trying to calm yourself. In that time, you don't notice but Jungkook has come closer to you.

You register his closeness when a water droplet from his hair falls onto your cheek. You move away slightly.

You don’t realise it but in your extended silence of checking each other out the both of you have moved closer to each other. There is no longer what people would call a healthy distance between the two of you anymore. He looks down at you and licks his lips again. His hair is wet and the way he runs his hand through it – he looks so good like this. Your dirty thoughts run wild again. Its only when another water droplet from his hair falls onto your cheek that you finally snap out of it. You move a step back.

“You look a little hot strawberry is anything the matter?” He asks you, a teasing lilt on his voice.

It’s way too early for this, you cannot be dealing with this right now, not when your mind has gone on a memory flashback to last night and he was right here in front you, so very naked.

Still, you feign your ever composed self.

“I’m just fine” you say through gritted teeth.

“I need to shower and your kind of standing in my way” you tell him.

He chuckles, a deep chuckle, gosh how are you this horny in the morning? Stop it y/n you think.

“I don't think you really mind though do you strawberry, you seem to have a very different secretive side” he says, cocking his head to the side.

You blush, shit had he heard you?

“I have no idea what you're talking about Jungkook” you say to him “I need to shower though”.

You move to get away from his hearted stare but just before you enter the washroom, a hand grabs onto your wrist and pulls you back.

Jungkook looks at you, a deep and confusing stare.

“Be careful, it’s quite wet in there” he says and then his tongue pokes into the side of his cheek. Then suddenly, he lets you go and walks off to his side of the room, your left in shock at his words and quickly scurry to get into the bedroom before more heated tension breaks through.

You shake your head of all thoughts and quickly go into the shower, what you don’t realise is that you accidently drop something, the note with the raven-haired boy who you had left in the bedroom.

Its later on during this day that Jungkook approaches you.

'Hey strawberry’ he says to you.

You raise your eyebrows at him, what’s with his sudden kindness.

‘hey’ you reply voice dipped in surprised.

‘Oh, shut up, I just came to talk to you’.

You look at him.

‘I didn’t say anything but okay…. talk then’ you gesture your hands between your two bodies.

He lets out an exasperated gasp.

‘The note – did you find one?’ he asks. You still in the next sip of coffee that you were going to take. You feel yourself grow cold. How did he find out?

He looks at you.

‘So, you did’.

‘I didn’t say that’ you say tone slightly higher than normal – you were a terrible liar.

He laughs at you

‘Hmm is that so?’

‘I have no idea what you’re talking about Jungkook’.

He looks at you, more serious this time.

“Listen y/n there's no point playing dumb, I found your stupid note anyway”.

You watch mortified as he pulls out the note that you had thought was in your pocket. Well shit then.

“I- I have never seen that before in my life Jungkook” you can't let him know; he would ruin everything - you convince yourself.

He looks at you, he’s getting annoyed that you're lying to him. He pokes his tongue against his cheek again.

“I suggest you stop lying”.

You scoff.

“Why would I ever need to lie to you your nobody to me Jungkook”.

Something akin to hurt flashes across his face for a few seconds before he slams his hands on the table.

“I don’t think you know what you're even getting into strawberry”.

You gather your belongings getting up, you need to get away from him.

“And I don't think you know what the fuck you're talking about Jungkook”.

You walk off leaving him there, but he follows after you,

“Listen I found one too, you don't need to be miss hero or anything”.

You carry on walking, not bothering to give him an answer, he would want to tell the teachers and everyone, they would cancel the trip and then how would you finish gathering your evidence? No, he was insane.

“I don’t know what you're talking about”.

‘you think your so fucking slick, don’t you? Asking around and acting unsuspicious but your wrong I could sense your stupid plan from a mile away’ he says to you, pulling you on your arm effectively stopping you so you can't walk away from him anymore. You struggle out of his hold.

‘and so, what? So, what if you know? What the hell are you going to do Jungkook? Tell on me? Are you going to threaten to tell the teachers because you know what? I’ve been thinking about it and I think they would much rather take my word for yours and all this work I’ve been doing for you – I could easily go right now and show the teachers and say that you forced me to do it!! ’

He looks at you angrily, looks like he is going to swear or curse you out but then his face relaxes.

‘you say that baby, but the truth is I have money and you don’t if I want to manipulate something I can because I have the means and power to do so, my dad's made himself something while yours totted away in the fucking garbage can’.

You feel the anger come over you and he smirks at you.

‘real fucking classy Jeon, yeah insult my parents – like it's their fault they were born into a world where people are born with silver spoons on their mouth, and at least my parents love me Jungkook’

His eyes flash with hurt

‘how do you now my parents don't love me you little bitch?’

You laugh an empty laugh at his face.

‘just look at you – you’re the very definition of boohoo my parents don't love me so I'm going to kick up a mess, so they notice me for once’.

He groans in frustration at your words then.

Somehow amidst your confrontation with Jungkook you had managed to reach your room, why are you here? Why did your feet have to leave you here?

You walk into the room and as soon as he gets in, Jungkook grabs you by the wrist and pins you against the door, your books and pencils fly across the room and while your mortified - he doesn't even bat an eyelid.

Your breathing is both heavy as you look each other in the eyes, waiting for the other to say something.

You struggle against his hold, uselessly, curse him for doing his workout routine every morning.

“You found the fucking note y/n when you went missing in the woods that day, the note that’s in Morse code, the note that you spent a week trying to decode, don't act fucking dumb” he grits out.

You still try and keep up your act,

“I have no clue in the world what you're talking Jeon, I think you're going fucking insane” you seethe out

He growls, yes, he growls.

“Your seriously fucking pissing me off now, I know you did, I know you found it”.

“Fuck off, Jungkook does it look like I care if I am fucking pissing you off”.

He looks into your eyes again and whispers something like “fucking priss” before he is connecting your lips in a kiss, a kiss that is full of ego, passion and heat. You can feel in searing through your body so fiery, setting your nerves alight.

He is relentless in his pace. His mouth against yours and God indeed Jungkook is good kisser. Before you knees grow weak you move your hands to tangle in his hair and you pull at the end causing him groan against his lips, when he does you swipe your tongue into his mouth getting a taste. You pull harder, and he groans again. It was a sound that you know you would like to hear again.

His hands move from the door and one tangles in your hair while the other presses harshly on your waist. You gasp at the pleasure and at this he takes over, he fights your own tongue for dominance and once he wins, he is rough, he wants all his saliva in your mouth, wants his taste on you, wants you to feel him in every way.

When he knows that your just as enthralled by his kisses he pulls back to taunt you - whispering the words against you bruised lips.

“You act like such a fucking little priss don't you? Act like your better than me? Lying to me? Fuck you drive me insane”.

He attacks your neck now, leaving open mouthed kisses along your ear and neck. He nibbles lightly at a few areas and when he gets to just the right place - where your breath hitches and you move your thighs together he bites down harshly without warning and you try you best to suppress your moans. Not wanting to give him any satisfaction.

“I am better than you” you say to him breathlessly, “I don’t just act like it, I am”.

He bites harder at that and you wince - Jungkook is painting you skin wine and purple and your letting him and it feels so goddamn good. He pulls you back by the hair to look at him,

“You don't look much better than me when you are bending at my will, when you're looking so fucked out and I’ve done is fucking kiss you”.

Your answer is swallowed by a moan that you let out as he takes you breasts into his big hands, and squeezes hard, you pull him up from your neck and kiss him again, his lips, your lips bruising and fighting against one another.

He trails his hand down further and dances around the hem of your pants for a while, and you place your own over his, just as your about to lead him further down a knock is heard at your door.

You both freeze

“y/n?” A voice calls out.

You calm yourself before answering, still a little shaky.

“Yes?”

“Our guest speaker has arrived, I just thought you might like to ask him a few questions before he gives his talk”.

Jungkook swears under his breath, raking a hand through his hair.

“You fucking nerd”.

He pulls you back by your pony tail and the back of your head lands on his shoulder, he tilts you slightly, so he has better access to kiss and leave more marks against your skin.

“Ah- I thank you, I’ll come in an ah- while” you say, and you hear the footsteps walk off, Jungkook spins you around and he goes to kiss you again, but you pull away.

“No, just, stop I have to go and talk”.

He looks at you “you fucking nerd” he kisses you once more, like he can't get enough of your mouth.

You pull away again.

uh what in the fuck just happened you think.

This was not meant to happen.

“Look Jungkook, I did, that is my note and I- I’ll, we can talk just not now, okay? I-I have to go. This is important"

He doesn't say anything, just watches as you fix your appearance in the mirror, an appearance he had ruined, and he smirks a little in triumph. He watches as you gather your books that had been thrown onto the floor and he watches as your ass is on display for him and God, he wishes he could grab a handful, but he doesn’t. He just watches.

You walk out the room, without so much as looking at him again and he feels oddly rejected.

He knows that you had felt good, he had heard you groan against his mouth, grind against his clothed member but he hadn't ever been walked out on before. He's not sure what exactly he is feeling. Its not a good feeling - that he was walked out on and for some old ass lecturer too.

He watches the door close, and he sits and waits for you to finish being a nerd. But truthfully it is a little hot to him that you’re so independent, you do things for yourself, your confidence and your wit, it makes you fun, you piss him off, but your company is nicer than the ones that he is used to.

He sighs what the fuck is he getting himself into.

You take a breath as you exit the room,

What in the fuck just happened? you think.

Well, when you promised Jungkook that you would talk to him you hadn't been in your right mind. Why did you agree to that like fuck? You have no idea what to even say. How do you even start that conversation like...?

"Hey, was just wondering if you would like to you know? Go on a hunt for a serial killer with me?"

Gosh this was so stupid and the kiss, gosh your face heats up as you remember the way he had kissed you - oh so sweet and so naughty!

Gosh you were in bad, as an adult you decide to deal with the problem logically, you'll just ignore him. That will work, Jungkook had a small attention span anyway. You're sure he would forget. You really hope he does.

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van-zieksy · 3 years ago

Note

Hi Ma'amsir Zieksy, hope you're having a good day. Here's a slightly ridiculous question I've been dying to ask: In a modern AU, how gamer do you think the van Zieks brothers are?

Greetings! I hope you are doing excellent! What a delightful ask! :D As someone who thoroughly enjoys games and adores the Van Zieks brothers, I am very happy about this ask.

I see the brothers as being very different in this regard. One might say they are polar opposites.

Barok isn't that much into video games and prefers board games and chess. Video games he does partake in are simulators, logic-based games and detective games where he can solve crimes. He does enjoy playing games like Mahjong or Solitaire on his handhelds. Occasionally he picks up a game with puzzle elements (like Zelda) or point-and-click games. It's not that he is against being invested in games, it's just that he prefers reading, arts and wine making more. Barok sees gaming as something that can enhance other aspects in his life as much as it is a way for him to unwind after a hard battle in the courtroom.

Klint is a gaming nerd to the point that he doesn't draw a line between real life and games anymore. He uses gaming slang when he talks to others without even realising it. The older brother enjoys games from all genres and usually spends his free time locked away in his ostentatious gaming room. A successful streamer, he has amassed a large following with his charming attitude and wits. He met his wife during one of his live streams. She kept sending him super chats to get his attention, and upon meeting in person for the first time, they immediately fell in love. They are now one of the most beloved couples that stream together. Even in court Klint often quotes characters to get his point across. While he's still quite the successful prosecutor, he only does it part-time, as streaming games is now his main job.

The brothers have respect for each other as each one hase their unique strengths, but they just love teasing each other.

Klint: "Dear brother, I have heard of your outstanding performance in court today. However, you can't hold a candle to me, which should go without saying. I am like a big boss. Feared by many and stronger than everyone else."

Barok: "Yet the big boss always ends up getting defeated by the protagonist in the end, who's usually an underdog, I may add."

Klint: "Gaaah, what do you know about games anyway!!"

-----------

Klint: "Hey Barok, look, I just created myself in this brand new RPG."

Barok: "Hmmm...please don't take this the wrong way. I can certainly see the similarities, but he looks more like you on steroids, Klint."

Klint: "Nonsense! I am strong. Look!"

Barok: "I am not denying that. You certainly are well-built and have many admirers, but Klint the Destroyer right there shares a closer resemblance to me."

Klint: "Don't forget I'm still the older brother, baby boy!"

Barok: "Sure. Despite that I am one inch taller than you."

Klint: "Nooo! How dare you! Size isn't everything, you know. I won the Prosecutor of the Year award just last month after I singlehandedly defeated all my enemies!"

Barok: "And it's certainly well-deserved. You are an outstanding prosecutor. But I needn't remind you that I am Director of Prosecutions. And before you can say anything, please don't forget that I was recommended for the position even before you stepped down from your full-time position as a prosecutor, so you can't use your second job as a streamer as an excuse."

Klint: "Aaah!"

(Barok is taller and broader than Klint, even of it's only ever so slightly, so I'd say that would carry over to a modern AU. Unlike in canon, Klint is alive and well here + Barok is older than 23 and already has his own career, so they can be on even ground.)

So anyway. Barok does casual gaming as a hobby. Klint made gaming his profession. Both are happy with what they do, which is what matters most. The brothers sometimes play local co-op games, such as racing games or sports games, together with friends. I like the idea of them both having very distinct habits/preferences, because in canon, one isn't like the other either.

I hope you have a great day/evening! Thanks again! ☺️

#barok van zieks #klint van zieks #ace attorney #the great ace attorney chronicles #tgaac #tgaa #dai gyakuten saiban #whats-a-reading ask #aks #dgs spoilers #tgaa spoilers #dgs

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justanie · 3 years ago

Text

Hoshi Kazeno (Lil' Oc Info):

Birthday: October 5th

Age: 12

Height: 1,49 cm - 4'9,5"

Likes: Singing, music, cute things, butterflies, fashion, shopping, gifts, showing off, being "herself", being pampered, desserts, candies, make friends, Big Hero 6, flowers, jewerly, pay attention, stickers, fruity lip gloss, cute animals, unicorns and rainbows.

Dislikes: Ugly insects, the abuse, that things don't go as she wants, ghosts, studying, "Nerd Things", seeing others suffer, villains and monsters of San Fransokyo.

Family: Liv Amara (Aunt), Fugi Kazeno (Father), Adelaide Amara (Mother), Ima Kazeno (Big Sis.), James Kazeno (Big Bro.), Yoshio Kazeno (Lil Bro.) and Kimi Kazeno (Lil Sis.)

Friends/Allies: Hiro Hamada (Crush onwards), Baymax, Megan Cruz, The Nerd Gang, Aunt Cass, Professor Granville, Chris (temporarily)

Enemies: Di Amara (later) Chris (later), Karmi (regularly) most of the villains in the first few seasons.

Voice Actress: Liliana Mummy.

History:

Hoshi Kazeno is the niece of Liv Amara, moved to San Fransokyo by decision of her parents since not having enough knowledge and getting distracted in her classes around science, she is moved to the city to take advantage of learning more from the high technology of which said city is characterized. Although the care of "Liv" does not help much, since she is negligent with Hoshi's education and instead of helping her to at least start with the basics of science as it was proposed for her, she enrolls her in the SFFI (San Fransokyo Female's Institute) to receive an education worthy of a true young lady believing that her reason for being there is for spoiled behavior (which, also helps, despite not being the main objective of why the girl is in San Fransokyo)

In her establishment, she ends up bumping into Hiro Hamada, who meets him at an event where the most acclaimed schools in San Fransokyo (the SFTI, the SFAI, my invented SFFI, among others) come together in a fair every year. Although her first impression was not something so pleasant, since Hoshi only mocked not him but the entire SFTI for the already reputation they have by being named "the School of Nerds" that by that time even before, Hoshi despised this type of people for no reason.

It is when for the time that she stays and adapts more to her new environment in the city, Hoshi changes her way of seeing science as something boring, to end up impressed by the great work and requirement that the facilities and inventions originating from San Fransokyo, starting to get closer to Hiro and the gang, where she was able to reveal a more friendly and charming face than the egotistical and pampered one that she always has to expose to the world. Her connection to the Big Hero 6 so far, is that she has only been present to see them in action (sometimes she gets rescued by them if danger confronts her) without taking into account that under those armors they are Hiro and the others being those super heroes, it's not until later.

Personality:

I think that by this point you already know what her personality is like: She is initially seen as a spoiled, selfish and pretentious girl, wanting anything on a whim and leaving aside issues that she dislikes. But under that layer of hostility, there is also an outgoing girl, with a sweet and kind heart who has only show if you know her better, worrying about people who matter Hoshi in her life despite continuing with her reputation as a "girly and spoiled girl".

Other Datas:

It is known that she is not originally from San Fransokyo, she lives in the almost neighboring city of this "Santolumbur" (A combination of Kuala Lumbur - Malaysia and Santorini - Greece) together with her family that you met from her parents and her four siblings, despite Since it is a disadvantage to be half ignored for being the middle child, she takes advantage of acting and doing what she wants with her life, even if her parents still pay her the same attention as their other children. Hoshi was born with the rare and peculiar "Alexandria Syndrome" reason why her eyes are naturally purple and not brown or blue like the rest of her family.

Her passionate hobby is a limited variety of what is related to music, preferring the classical, pop and celtic genre. She has a very fine and prodigious singing voice, knowing how to play wind instruments (specifically, the flute and its derivatives) better than anyone, although it can also vary a bit since she is able to play the Lyre and/or Harp and because of her musical likes, she dreams of one day becoming a famous singer in the future.

And that would be the most important thing that I can tell about my OC, that it should be stated that she would be introduced between the end of season 1 and that she would happen if she developed more than half of season 2 with Di Amara as the villain. Actually, i'm edit the part of Hoshi's home ^-^

#big hero 6 #bh6 #bh6 the series #big hero 6 the series #big hero six the series #bh6 oc #big hero 6 oc #my ocs #oc info #hoshi thyella

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andypantsx3 · 4 years ago

Text

statistically significant | 5 | bakugou/reader

length: 23,490 words | 7 chapters

summary: You’re the scientist who developed a neural net to model the value of assists. Now that your work is feeding into the hero rankings, pro hero Ground Zero has a bone to pick with your results.

tags: romance, enemies to lovers, sexual tension, reader-insert

warnings: aged up characters, eventual smut, m/f threats of violence, problematic behavior

The next few weeks were a blur of activity.

When he wasn’t off on patrol or a mission, Mina and Kaminari kept Bakugou busy with dozens of team exercises, all of which needed your analysis. They ran him through any and every scenario that entered their brains, and after the first few rounds, Bakugou seemed to resign himself to their ministrations, his explosions no longer rattling the windows of the training room in displeasure. You’d reviewed footage of the first couple of rounds all together, the trio of heroes jammed into the tiny surveillance room with you, grimy with the ashy residue of Bakugou’s explosions, someone or another’s shirt partly melted off, and all of them looking exhausted but pleased.

Eventually, though, it became difficult for you to spare time in between your meetings with the other agency heroes. Bakugou was not helping matters by kicking the door down in the middle of your meetings and attempting to bodily remove anyone you were in conversation with whenever he wanted an update. You were dedicating almost as much time to breaking up fights and rescheduling appointments as you were to having the actual meetings themselves.

In the interest of maintaining the peace--and health and safety the Miruko agency employees--you wrote a quick script that monitored the training room footage and automatically ran your analysis program any time it keyed in on Bakugou, Mina, and Kaminari together on screen. It forwarded the results to their phones so that Bakugou wouldn’t come stalking in and making any more enemies than he already had.

That seemed to pacify him for a couple of days, and you managed almost twenty blissful meetings uninterrupted, until a Friday morning when no sooner had you flipped the lights on in the surveillance room than Bakugou was ripping the door open after you.

“Enough slacking off, nerd,” he growled, stalking over to loom over you in a vaguely menacing manner. It was early but he looked wide awake, maybe a little mussed like he'd already been training, the same combination of annoyingly handsome and intimidating as always. He was also dressed in some variation of his usual training set, dark fabric clinging to his chest, arms bare. The sight was really way too much for this early in the morning.

His sudden entrance startled you out of a yawn, and you just barely managed to catch your laptop before it slipped through your fingers.

“Good morning?” you hedged, looking up at him in apprehension.

He made an angry, dismissive noise. Before you could dredge up enough energy for a proper eye roll, something small and warm was thrust unceremoniously into your chest, briefly winding you.

You looked down at the item he was attempting to fracture your sternum with and found yourself staring at a white takeout cup.

You looked up at him in confusion but he just glared passively until you looked down again.

“....what is this?” you asked. Your hands raised automatically to take the cup from him.

“Battery acid,” Bakugou said.

You stopped, gaping at him, and he rolled his eyes. “The fuck do you think it is, idiot?” he demanded, gesturing at it forcefully.

You looked down at the cup again, a soft swirl of steam issuing from the opening in the cap. You brought it hesitantly to your face. A cursory sniff revealed very little in the way of poison--not that you had much expertise on the subject--but it did smell suspiciously like the house blend from the nice bakery down the street.

You stared at Bakugou with misgiving. “What is this, actually?”

He made a disbelieving noise. “You spend all this time acting like such a smartass and you don’t even know what a fucking coffee is? The fuck do you think you drink every morning?”

You couldn’t help but stare at him. There was absolutely no way Bakugou Katsuki was bringing you coffee. This had to be some kind of trick.

His threats from a few weeks ago floated to the forefront of your mind. I’m going to win the bet, he’d said, and then you’re in for it. Was this part of "in for it"? What was “it”, exactly, and was it likely that “it” entailed poisoning you in broad daylight in the middle of a hero agency?

The offing you in broad daylight seemed very much his style, but poison seemed a roundabout way to do it. No, if he was going to settle a score with you, it was going to be something much more immediate, and probably obnoxiously flashy.

You brought the cup to your mouth, taking a tentative sip. No acid tang of poison met your tongue, only the rich, buttery taste of the coffee. Though arsenic was said to be flavorless... Damn that was good, though.

Bakugou hovered impatiently, like he was waiting for something, wearing a strangely blank expression. You watched him nervously. Was the poison slow acting or something?

His scarlet gaze locked onto yours, and it suddenly hit you what he must be doing. You almost dropped the coffee. Was he...waiting for a thank you? As in, he was aware of and actively acknowledging that he’d just done something for you?

You decided to test the waters. “Thank you, Bakugou.”

He made an impatient clicking noise. “Fucking took you long enough.”

You frantically schooled your features into a mask that betrayed nothing of your shock. Christ, he was serious. He’d actually brought you a coffee, and he knew it was a nice thing to do? There was no way he was doing this just to do this. He had to want something from you.

“...So, what is it that you’re bribing me for?” you asked.

Bakugou’s face went dark, the tips of his ears strangely pink. “Fuck you. I don’t need to fucking bribe you for shit, with your obvious little crush on me.” He took a threatening step closer, and that familiar scent of gunpowder and caramel filled your nose.

You felt your face heat, your heart jumping into your mouth. Not this shit again.

So, it was absolutely true that you had a lot of trouble detaching your eyes from the width of his biceps, and that your brain ran wild loops every time he was close. But just because you had difficulty looking anywhere else when he was in a room, didn't mean you had a crush on him. He was way too much of a brat and it was exhausting trying to keep up with his weirdly intense personality. Just because he was pretty did not mean you had a thing for him...

“Why are you like this?” you complained, edging away from him as he moved nearer.

He smirked knowingly, taking another step closer. A small, traitorous shiver went up your spine at the thrill of a man so close. To your eternal embarrassment, Bakugou’s keen gaze seemed to catch it, a darker smile curling his mouth.

You opened your mouth to make some kind of excuse--though what you would have come up with was completely beyond you--when a head of wild pink curls poked itself through the door.

The intruder let out a quiet gasp, but that was enough to break the moment. Bakugou whirled on her, red eyes glaring.

“Raccoon, do you ever mind your own fucking business?” he demanded, in the tones of someone interrogating a war criminal.

Mina’s dark eyes widened innocently. “What? How was I supposed to know this is where you’d gone?” she asked. There was note of something gloating in her voice, however, and you got the feeling that she’d been hoping to catch you in some kind of act.

Your face went hotter. Why did everyone think there was a thing with you and Bakugou, including, apparently, Bakugou?

“Anyway, I’m not here for you,” Mina informed him briskly, derailing your wandering train of thought. “I was gonna ask stats girl to give us a hand this morning.”

She turned to you, her smile slightly predatory. “Blasty’s better at sticking close now, so we started focusing team exercises on victim evaluation. Any chance you can play civilian? Denki was for a bit but he started getting too into it.” A grimace flitted over her pretty features. “I almost lost an arm trying to stop Katsuki from blasting him clear into the stratosphere.”

You looked at Bakugou, but an irritated twitch of a blonde eyebrow was all you got by way of an explanation.

Your thoughts turned inward, wondering if this was a good idea. You’d been hoping to use the morning to get a little work done on a prototype of a productionized model, seeing as you had fewer meetings than usual today. And you hadn’t really come prepared for a potential roll around in the dirt and dust of the city simulation training spaces.

As if sensing your hesitation, Mina chirped, “I’ll let you a spare set of my training clothes so yours don’t get dirty! And you would probably be saving Denki’s life here--don’t you owe him one from the Hero Awards?”

Your gaze cut back to Bakugou without any direction from your brain. Bakugou appeared to be making no attempt to look apologetic about the incident at the Awards. He raised an eyebrow in challenge when your look lingered too long for his liking, red eyes narrowing in on you with a sudden heat. “The fuck are you looking at, nerd?”

“He means please,” Mina said, her voice going honeyed and wheedling. “Plus, it will be fun! I promise you I won’t melt any of your body parts off. Just Blasty’s, I swear.”

You couldn’t help the way your eyes stayed firmly attached to Bakugou’s face. His mouth twitched in obvious irritation at the implication that he would ever say please, but he made no move to correct Mina, limbs drawn in tight, defensive.

You looked down at the cup in your hand, sighing. He’d brought you a coffee and was doing minimal yelling. He appeared to be making some kind of effort here--though to what end you weren’t sure--and you supposed contributing to his training was ultimately your goal here, anyway. You could reward him for behaving himself as well as he knew how, and work towards your promotion at the same time.

“Fine,” you allowed, watching as Mina startled wiggling in obvious delight. “Let me finish this coffee and then I’ll help out.”

Mina clapped her rosy palms together. “Ahh! This is going to be so fun! You’ll see.”

Mina’s definition of fun was any civilian’s definition of fucking terrifying.

It was one thing to see the three heroes using their powers on screen, or safely tucked away behind a meter of quirk-enforced glass. It was another thing entirely to be in the center of the action, acid sizzling mere inches from your feet.

“You said you wouldn’t melt anything off!” you shouted, stumbling away from Mina.

She’d accused Kaminari of getting too into playing civilian--whatever that meant--but you thought she was way too into playing villain herself. A hard look passed over her pretty features, sending a chill down your spine. With that dark look, those unusual eyes and twisted horns took on a more sinister nuance. She looked almost like an alien, and moved like one too, stalking you through the twisting alleys of the training cityscape.

“Accidents happen,” she cooed, almost happily. She threw up a twisting fistful of acid that hardened into a warped wall in front of you. You skidded wildly on the gravel to avoid it. “Now stay still, you’re supposed to be a hostage.”

A choked little noise escaped you. Honestly, thank god this woman was a hero. You might have trouble sleeping at night if you knew a villain like this was stalking the streets, unchecked and unbound by social mores. You’d probably still have trouble getting to sleep tonight, even after she went back to smiling and bouncing all over the place.

“Actually, maybe Kaminari should take over again,” you managed, stepping back from her. “Not really sure if I’m cut out for this.”

A loud boom drowned out her reply, an office front a few blocks away crumbling under the force of the blast. You gaped at the force that shook the street, even blocks away.

Mina used your distraction to her advantage, grabbing the back of your shirt to haul you towards her. “He’s so obvious, my god--how he got to be number eight is beyond me. Now come over here and do your best to look injured. He needs practice evacuating people instead of coming in blasting.”

She fumbled with something on her belt, pulling out several bright red bands that proclaimed various types of injuries in blocky white font. Then she leaned over you, shoving a band up your arm that announced SEVERE BURNS, and another on your left ankle, proclaiming a DISLOCATION.

She clicked her tongue, looking you over. “Would more be overkill? This is enough that he should at least hesitate before trying to blow me sky high…” She seemed to decide against more, shoving the rest back into her belt. Then she gently pressed you down to the ground at her feet.

“This is the part where I get to monologue,” she said, winking down at you. “Do your best to look helpless and make sure your severe burns thing is showing. I wanna see if he can prioritize rescuing you over my trash talk.”

A soft groan escaped you. Fat chance. Bakugou was the most foul tempered little shit you had ever met, and while it was true that his single-minded focus on winning the bet meant he was tolerant enough to be doing this exercise in the first place, you highly doubted he was going to hesitate if Mina was pushing his buttons as expertly as she usually did.

The chance to find out came soon enough. There was a strangled kind of yelp and a crackle of lightning followed a thunderous boom a few blocks away as Bakugou presumably rendered Kaminari’s perimeter defense useless. Then with another screaming explosion, he was rocketing over the buildings separating you, barrelling straight down on Mina.

Mina threw up another acid shield that hardened into a defensive wall. Bakugou’s first attack cracked it but didn’t manage to penetrate. There was barely a breath between the cracking and another explosion, however, and then the wall exploded inwards in a crackling shower of fizzing pieces. Mina crouched over you, breathing excitedly, “This is the fun part!”

Whatever reply you might have given her was drowned out by an angry series of hissing snaps from Bakugou’s palm as he stalked closer to you. The right half of his shirt had been singed off by lightning, it looked like, and a fine veneer of dust layered in his hair and on patches of his skin. It was just a training simulation, but he looked half-wild, teeth bared and eyes bright over the ash on his face. If he looked nearly this intense in real life situations, it was a wonder that anyone would agree to be evacuated by him at all.

Maybe that’s why he sucked at rescues.

“It’s fucking over, raccoon eyes,” he said. “Hand her over.”

Mina laughed, a delicate sound like bells. “Not another step closer, hero, or I’ll melt a hole straight through her pretty neck.”

You twitched away from her minutely. God she was terrifying.

“Quit it with the fucking villain act, fuckwad, or I’ll blow you all the way to hell,” Bakugou growled.

Mina reached for your arm, pulling you up next to her. “Hmm, then I hope your aim is good. She’s already got one set of severe burns.”

Bakugou’s crimson gaze cut down to your shoulder and the displeased twist to his mouth deepened. “Fucking--of course you got yourself fucking injured. Fucking idiot.”

“Hey,” you protested, shifting against the band. “I’m not actually.”

Mina kicked you. “Moments to live, this one. Unless you can pull a healing quirk out of those glorious buttcheeks of yours.”

You choked on your own spit while Bakugou snarled. “I’m gonna fucking remember this, you strawberry fuck.”

“Maybe. But she won’t,” Mina said, and suddenly there was a rosy palm in front of your face, dripping acid. A drop landed deliberately on the fold of the training pants she’d lent you, searing straight through with a loud hiss. Your heartbeat spiked in violent alarm. You reeled back, but Mina was still crouched over you, and you banged into her collarbone.

In the next second, everything went to shit. Something searing hot blazed just over your shoulder and Mina swore, jerking back from you in the blink of an eye. There was a deafening crack and a rush of burning air over you as Bakugou let loose an explosion at the same time he seized your ankle and pulled you straight underneath where he’d aimed the blast, missing you by inches.

“What the fuck,” you gasped. Bakugou grunted, and yanked harder, pulling you straight to him.

“Quit being such a fucking princess,” he growled, shifting an arm underneath you. You froze, suddenly wishing that his explosion had managed to hit you, searing off every nerve ending.

“What are you doing?” you demanded, sputtering in alarm when he hoisted you against him. You could feel every place your body touched his, and smell the sharp gunpowder and sugar scent of his sweat. He hooked his arm firmly around your waist, glaring down at you with one baleful red eye.

“Fuckstick gave you a dislocated ankle so I would have to fight her off with one fucking arm and carry you with the other,” he bit out, whirling when a stream of acid came hissing your way.

You gripped at his shirt, swearing. “Oh my god. What the hell is she doing, aiming for me? This is a simulation! Also, I can walk.”

He grunted. “You can shut the fuck up is what you can do.”

He executed another agile dodge, pulling you with him. “Now hold on, princess, this is gonna be a rough ride with one arm.”

You didn’t have time to ask him what the hell he was on about. He aimed a shot over your shoulder, the heat simmering and boiling in the air next to your ear, and you heard the impact of Mina hitting the pavement behind you. In the next second, Bakugou tightened his arm around you, and aimed a palm for the ground.

The next thing you were aware of was a strangled screaming sound. It took a second for you to realize the mortifying noise was coming from you. But in your defense, Bakugou had literally blasted the two of you clear above the alleyway. You could see the wreckage from Bakugou’s scuffle with Kaminari, and Mina scrambling to her feet, much smaller and further away that you were comfortable with. Your hands fisted in his shirt and you nearly decapitated him with the force with which you shoved your face into his shoulder.

Even with your eyes closed, you could tell Bakugou hadn’t been kidding about the rough ride. Another blast from his palm jerked you sharply to the right, and he uttered a soft swear.

“Hold tight, nerd,” he said in your ear. There was a series of more explosions and you spun violently in the opposite direction. You went careening over a low roof top to land heavily on the pavement, Bakugou twisting at the last second to take the initial impact to his shoulder, rolling over you to distribute the momentum.

You rolled twice more, eventually stopping with his hard body under yours, your face jammed unpleasantly into his shoulder, his arms bracketing your sides. One of his hands was fisted in the back of your shirt, and a tuft of blonde hair brushed your cheek.

He let out a huff. “If you ever let her put the fucking dislocation band on you again, I’ll melt your damn laptop.”

You pulled back from him, hissing into his face. “If you dare, I'll--”

“The fuck you gonna do, nerd?” he demanded, sitting up. Straight into you.

You gripped his shirt so as not to fall right off of him, widening your knees for balance. Then you froze when you realized he was pressed against you everywhere, hard muscle and the heat of his skin bleeding through your training clothes. He was hot like a furnace, ashy and dust-streaked like one too, and his eyes glowed like banked coals. He gazed back at you, his mouth setting with some kind of a challenge.

Then those red eyes trailed slowly and deliberately down your face, stopping right on your mouth. His fingers tightened in the back of your shirt.

You couldn’t help your sharp inhale. Holy shit, was he...going to kiss you?

You sat frozen, locked in place, neither willing or able to move away, like you were being pulled towards him like some kind of magnet. Was he really going to do it? Was he really going to kiss you? Or, no...were you going to kiss him?

You could, you thought hysterically. That’s what it felt like, watching him breathe shallowly, eyes fixed on your mouth. You could kiss him and he would let you.

Had that been what all the your little crush on me shit had been about? Had he been torturing you not because he’d noted the way your eyes lingered over him, but because it was something he’d wanted to happen? Had that been what all the threats were for, what the crowding you against walls and the frigging coffee had been about? When Mina had said he’d been fixated on you, did she actually mean it less like revenge and more like actual attraction?

You let out a shaky breath. Only one way to find out, you thought wildly, leaning forward with your pulse singing in your veins.

And then an explosion rocked the foundations of the building, throwing you forward against Bakugou’s chest. You gasped, the breath knocked out of you, and whipped around to glare at his free hand in accusation. Bakugou pulled you back, however, a hard looking passing over his face.

It was only seconds before Mina and Kaminari came scrambling out of the maze of training buildings, looking worried. Kaminari was already crackling with static, agitated whips of lighting zipping across his skin. Bakugou's palm started to grow hotter against your back.

His next words threw the situation into sharp clarity.

“That wasn’t from a training room.”

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugou katsuki x reader #bnha x reader #my hero academia #bnha #katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou

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sergeantsporks · 3 years ago

Text

Do You Want the Knife You Left In My Back, or Can I Keep It?

Rating: Teen and up, Gen

An injured Hunter wanders into Hexside. What was Luz supposed to do, just let him bleed out on the floor?

Ch1/?: Backstabber

Ao3

“The human must be truly formidable if the Emperor sent both of us to capture her.”

Hunter glanced back at Kikimora. “Nah, he was probably just worried that you’d mess it up, so he sent me to make sure it went smoothly.”

Kikimora studied her claws. “I know it was you that attacked me when I tried to bring the palisman to the Emperor. You and the human.”

Hunter whipped around. “Oh, do you want to talk about that now? Because I know that you knocked my airship out of the sky and tried to have me killed. So you have nothing on me. You tell the Emperor what I did, I tell him what you did.”

“The human really must be formidable if she managed to get the palisman from you.”

Hunter rolled his eyes behind his mask. “She’s really not. I was a little bit busy fighting you to worry about her.”

“Truly a strong foe,” Kikimora continued, “So strong she was able to overcome you.”

“What are you talking ab—”

A blast of magic hit him, and magical bonds snaked around his hands and feet, yanking on him and sending him to his knees. Hunter struggled and tugged against the ties, but they held firm. “HEY! Kikimora, what—”

Something sharp touched his back, right between his shoulder blades, and he froze. “She attacked us from behind,” Kikimora hissed in his ear, “She went for you, first.” Something slammed into his back, like she’d punched him. “She was brutal. Merciless.”

Kikimora twisted her hand, and Hunter felt a tingling shock, and then—

His world exploded. Heat flooded out from the wound, and Hunter heard a guttural, choking scream.

Oh, wait.

That was him.

Kikimora pushed him facedown to the ground, knife still in his back. “I killed her, of course. It was a tough fight, but to avenge a fellow coven member? Of course I didn’t give up until I succeeded.”

Hunter coughed, blood coating the inside of his mouth. “Kiiii…”

“That’s what happens,” Kikimora hissed, “when people try to replace me.”

She walked off, and Hunter just lay there on the ground, his mind fuzzy with pain.

He had to…

Ugh—

Hunter pulled out his staff, and inch by agonizing inch, used it to pull himself up, shaking. He twisted, reaching for the knife, but the movement just tore more, and the world blacked out for a second. He gripped his staff tightly, his knuckles white.

Kikimora could easily kill him in this state, if the wound itself didn’t kill him.

That meant the only thing standing between her and total control over the coven and Uncle Belos’ complete trust was… Luz.

Kikimora would probably go to the owl house first.

That gave Hunter the advantage.

Xxx

“Thorn vault!” Luz called, slamming her hand down on her glyph. The plant erupted outward, pushing her over Skara’s head to the goal. Skara jumped, but missed her by inches. “Ah! Not again!”

Luz touched down. “You’ll get it someday.”

“Unlikely!” Gus called from the bleachers, “I predict never!”

“Zip it, twerp!” Skara yelled back, “Just wave your flags!” She dusted herself off. “One more try?”

“One more try,” Luz agreed, “Amity, you ready?”

“Always!”

Gus screeched, pointing. “Luz!”

Luz whipped around in the direction he was pointing to see an awfully familiar staff moving slowly towards her.

And the person clutching it like a lifeline.

Amity raced towards Luz, skidding in front of her, an abomination already rising out of the dirt. “Stay back!” she warned Hunter, “I beat you once, I can do it again!”

Luz put a hand on her arm. “Wait! There’s something wrong!” She moved cautiously towards Hunter—he looked awful. Residue magic swirled around his wrists and ankles, and…

“Is that blood?!” Luz rushed forward to him, taking his arm. She stifled a scream at the jagged blade sticking out of his back, blood staining his white cape red. “Ohmygosh, what happened to you?!”

His chest heaved with ragged breaths. “Kikimora—never thought—this open—” He slumped against her. “After… you…”

“Find Viney!” Luz yelled to Skara, “Amity—”

“I’m not leaving you alone with him!”

“Okay, fine, Gus, get Eda!”

Luz lowered Hunter to the ground, holding him up so that the knife wouldn’t go further in. “Don’t die!”

Amity hovered over them. “What did you mean, ‘after you?’ Were you coming to hurt Luz?!”

Hunter coughed, blood flecking his lips. “I…”

“Amity, he’s in really bad shape! You can’t interrogate him right now!”

Hunter pawed weakly at her hand. “Kikimora… want… to kill… you… exposed…”

“Okay, okay, I get it. Big bad coven leader wants me dead. Now shhhhhh, stop moving around, you’re going to make it worse!”

Puddles landed next to her, Viney sliding off of his back. “Whoa! You must have been having the most intense grudgeby match of all time!” She knelt next to them, gently turning Hunter onto his stomach. “Oooo, that’s bad. You should have gotten the healing teacher, I don’t know if—”

Luz grabbed her arm. “No! No teachers! Please.”

Viney hissed, examining the knife. “This isn’t just a regular knife—there are some kinds of objects that are enchanted to be resilient to healing magic—in case you really, really want to make sure your enemy bites it.” She drew a circle with her finger, and the knife glowed golden. “This one isn’t too powerful—I can stop the bleeding and put a patch on all of the internal problems, but I can’t seal it up. He’ll have to heal on his own. Where did you even get this knife?!”

Hunter whimpered, and Luz grabbed Viney’s hand. “It doesn’t matter! Just do it, before he dies!”

“Okay.” Viney snapped her fingers, and Puddles shooed Luz to the side, offering Hunter a cloth to bite down on and gently holding him still with his talons. Viney took a deep breath, and the knife glowed again, floating out of Hunter’s back, the cloak floating away, too. Hunter let out a muffled scream into the cloth, and tensed, which just made the blood spurt harder out of the wound. Viney drew a circle over his back, and the bleeding abruptly stopped. Puddles coughed up bandages, and a needle and thread, and Viney nodded to Luz and Amity. “This isn’t going to be pretty. You might want to look away.”

Amity pulled Luz away. “Luz, what exactly are you planning to do now? Just dump him on the doorstep of the conformatorium and run away?”

“No way! What if Kikimora finds him first? We can’t just send him back, she is literally trying to kill him!”

“And he’s trying to catch you!”

“That doesn’t mean I’m going to let him die!” Luz took Amity’s hands. “Amity, you fought him too. You didn’t feel even a little bit bad for him?”

Amity looked away. “Maybe a little bit,” she admitted, “But… if you’re not going to leave him with his coven, what is your plan?”

Luz bit her lip, staring at the ground. “Iwasthinkingmaybehecouldstayattheowlhouse,” she mumbled.

“What?”

“I was thinking he could stay with me,” she said louder, “At the owl house.”

“What?! No way! Luz, are you crazy?!”

“Ooo, hehe, jury’s still out on that one, Amity, you know that.”

“I’m serious, Luz, you can’t let him into the owl house!”

“Look at him, Amity, does he look dangerous to you?”

Amity looked back to where he was lying limp on the grudgeby field, Puddles nuzzling his face. “… I guess not… but still, he doesn’t have to attack you, all he has to do is put a trap, or let someone else into the owl house to bump you off!”

“The only people out for me right now are him and Kikimora. And Kikimora is also trying to kill him. Sooooooo I’m not overly worried about it.” Luz gave Amity’s hands a squeeze. “C’mon. I think I can handle one stabbed guy in a fight, give me that much credit at least.”

“… Fine. But good luck convincing Eda, she doesn’t exactly have the most… friendly of feelings towards him.”

Speak of the devil, Eda flew over the fence on her staff, Gus hanging onto the end. “I heard a kid got stabbed! Luz, you didn’t tell me it was knife day at school, I would have come to watch!”

“Kni—okay, sure, that’s a thing. It’s not knife day, Eda. None of the students got stabbed.”

“What? So what happened?”

Luz pointed across the field. “Uhhhhhhhm, soooooooo?”

“No. Absolutely not.”

“Eeeeedaaaaaa, I haven’t even asked anything yet!”

“Okay, let me set parameters for your next few sentences, then. If you are about to ask me if we can, in any way, shape, or form, take care of the Golden Guard and his lovely new piercing, the answer is no.”

“But Eda—”

“No. Nada. Nein. You speak Spanish, right? No. Any other ways I can say it?”

“Eda, he needs help!”

“Dump him on his coven’s doorstep, ring the doorbell, and run away. We’re not taking care of him.”

“Eda, listen—”

“No, you listen, Luz. That kid is trouble—and not the fun kind. You try to be nice to him, and he’ll stab you in the back. He’s been Belos-ified through and through.”

“I thought the same thing about Lilith!”

“Yeah? Well, I didn’t. My sister’s too much of a nerdy dork to ever be really horrible. This kid’s a nerd, sure, but he’s not Lili. He’s dangerous, he’s desperate, and unlike Lilith, he’s working completely for Belos, not himself.”

“Eda, Kikimora’s trying to kill him!”

“Well, I hope they succeed at murdering each other, and maybe take Belos down with them while they’re at it.”

“It would be murder to leave him at the coven!”

“Guess I’m going to be a murderer, then. Add it to the list of crimes.”

“Wouldn’t you want him to help me if I was in his place? If you were stuck in the owl beast form, and King was trying to kill me, wouldn’t you want him to help me?”

“I sincerely doubt King’s murdering skills, and NO, I think I wouldn’t want you anywhere close to Belos.”

Luz gave Eda big puppy-dog eyes, and her mentor sighed.

“Buuuuut I guess I see your point. Gah. Fiiiiiiiineee. You can take him home.” Eda leveled a finger at Luz. “But you have to feed him, and water him, and clean up after his messes, and keep him entertained, understood?”

“He’s not a pet, Eda.”

“I said, understood?”

“Understood.” Luz hugged Eda. “Thank you!”

“Oh, and if he tries to hurt you, if he tries to sell us out to Belos? I will do Kookymora a solid and finish the job.”

#toh #the owl house #edalyn the owl lady #toh hunter #luz noceda #amity blight #toh fanfiction #my writing

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writersmorgue · 3 years ago

Text

Nightmare Material

15+ for graphic descriptions of violence, blood, and gore

can be read as slash or platonic

not proofread

“SHUT UP DEKU! OH MY GOD, CAN YOU BE QUIET FOR FIVE FUCKING MINUTES?!”

The common room goes silent.

“Woah, Bakubro, he just asked if you were busy,” Kirishima chuckles nervously.

Katsuki looks over to Deku who, as expected, already has tears welling in his eyes.

“Shitty crybaby, of course I’m busy can’t you fuckin’ see? Go bother someone who cares.”

Deku sniffles like the pathetic little child that he is, and nods, “Ok Kacchan.”

“Fuckin’ annoying ass-” Katsuki mutters, ignoring the glares as he stomps out of the room. Taking the stairs two at a time before slamming the door shut behind him, imagining the flinches of his classmates as he does so.

Fuck that fucking nerd, always looking down at him. Asking him for help on math of all things, when he fuckin’ knows that’s Katsuki’s worst subject. Fuck him.

The little shit shouldn’t even be here, he’s not on Katsuki’s level. Just gonna get himself killed.

After a few minutes of grumbling into his pillow, there’s a knock at Katsuki’s door, followed by a meek, “Blasty?”

He groans dramatically and flops over onto his back, propelling himself up with a few controlled explosions.

“Fuckin’ what-” He swings the door open and comes face to face with the entire idiot squad.

Sero, Kirishima, Mina, and Kaminari all stand in front of him, Sero nervously wringing his hands, Kaminari avoiding eye contact, and Kirishima giving him a look.

Mina steps to the front of them, patting Kirishima’s shoulder as she does so.

“Blasty, you really gotta stop.” She stares him straight in the eyes, not backing down no matter how hard he glares.

“Stop fuckin’ what.”

Kirishima places a hand on Mina’s chest, stalling her step forward into Katsuki’s space. “You know what, Bakugo.”

Katsuki rolls his eyes, “Oh please, like the little shit can’t handle some yelling. I’ve seen discount hot topic make his ears bleed-”

“This isn’t about Jirou. This is about you. You need to sort your shit out.” Sero’s frowning, a rare sight.

“Oh?” Katsuki quirks an eyebrow, “Or what?”

There’s a tense silence before Kaminari sniffs. “Or- or we won’t be your friends anymore!!” He stutters, bottom lip wobbling.

The rest of the group nods, one by one giving him a last glance.

Katsuki stands there for a few minutes, mainly thinking, but also fuming

How dare they treat him like that, like trash. He’s not trash, and he’s not the bad guy. He’s just trying to save Deku before it’s too late. Stupid idiot won’t last a day in the hero business, even with his new freak quirk. All it’s good for is hurting the nerd.

“Stupid Deku and his stupid protection squad, fuckin’ blind idiots.” He grumbles, slamming the door and returning to his lair.

He changes his clothes, resigning himself to finishing his weekend at the gym instead of on next week’s homework.

Bakugo stomps through the common room on the way to their practice room, a few of his classmates shoot him glares but he’s ignored for the most part. Something noticeably purposeful since he’s not exactly being quiet. Even Kirishima refuses to acknowledge his presence.

Yeah, that hurts.

He runs for two hours, lifts for one, and finishes with core for thirty minutes before his post-workout cooldown ritual. Thoroughly satiated and tired to the bone, he heads back to his dorm. Ignored this way too, he doesn’t bother saying goodnight to anyone. Not that he would usually. Not that he misses Ashido’s “Night blasty!!” on his way up the stairs.

He doesn’t give a shit.

He scrubs at his body with his last bits of energy and brushes his teeth half dead on his feet. Exhausted, he flops down on his bed and passes out almost immediately.

…

Someone’s screaming.

Katsuki lunges toward Shigaraki, whose hand barely grazes Izuku’s neck.

Izuku? When did he ever call the nerd something other than-

“DEKU!!!” Oh, he was the one screaming. He blasts himself forward and pushes Izuku out of the way, his dusted skin flaking off into the breeze as green hair skids to a stop on the ground below.

“Damn BRAT-” Shigaraki mutters, angrily scrunching his hand in mid-air before turning his attention to Katsuki. “YOU.” He points a cracked, pointed finger at Katsuki.

“Yeah, what are you gonna do about it old man?” He snorts, preparing his arms to blast again, he can feel the resistance from his last jump.

“You saved the little shit,” Shigaraki mutters to himself, nails dragging roughly down his neck, “must have a relationship, must be close to my enemy. Must die-”

Katsuki raises his hand, palms crackling in defiance, but he’s geared to go anyway.

Nothing happens.

“Fuck goddamnit!” His one fucking chance to get a drop on the guy and he’s out of juice? Fucking really?!

He’s so caught up in his fury he doesn’t notice the mad glint in the enemy’s eye. The way he smiles brokenly, bloody tongue barely peeking out.

“Poor little hero.” He mutters.

Katsuki jerks his head up just in time to see five fingers inches away from his face.

Well, this was fun.

“KATSUKI-” There’s pressure on his side and he falls, belatedly realizing he was pushed out of the way.

He looks hits the ground hard, hearing the reverberated snap of his ankle as it breaks.

“FALL HERO!! FALL BEFORE ME! YOUR NEW GO-”

Shigaraki falls to the ground as Todoroki whacks him over the head with a piece of rebar.

HIs normally stoic expression is frantic, he’s got fresh tears streaking down his face, and his forehead is covered in dried blood.

He tears his eyes away from the downed villain as Kirishima comes to cuff him, and screams in anguish at the sight of Izuku- Something Katsuki is still trying to wrap his head around.

A startled, almost pained sound escapes Katsuki as he half limps, half runs towards his best friend.

...best friend?

“IZUKU!”

Izuku has long since crumbled to his knees, clutching what remains of the left side of his face. Still slowly crumbling away. Blood pours down his arm and neck, making it difficult to see, but the sight of his eye frantically widening as Katsuki sits next to him is enough.

He removes his hand and sobs, throwing himself onto Katsuki.

“Eih- hgo-” He chokes, blood soaking Katsuki’s own suit as he rocks them both.

“Shh, it’s okay, Izuku.” He whispers, making eye contact with a sobbing Todoroki, who nods in approval.

“Izuku you’re gonna be fine.” The shock has yet to remove itself from Katsuki’s voice, and his words are filled with cracks and sobs, but he hopes it’s what Izuku needs.

“Aa- aah” Izuku’s broken kacchan followed by a fresh flow of blood down Katuski’s neck.

“I love you, Izuku. It’s gonna be alright.”

Izuku whimpers, clutching onto the blond’s neck for dear life.

And then he goes limp.

Katsuki’s eyes bug out, and he pulls Izuku arm’s length away. The gruesome sight that greets him is one he’ll never forget.

Izuku’s left eye hangs loosely down the side of his mangled cheekbone and jaw. Katsuki can see teeth starting to crumble as the decay works its way through his face. His nose is completely exposed, with no flesh left. No cute freckles. No scrunch when he smiles. And his other eye, possibly the worst part, stares lifelessly at Katsuki. The last remnants of tears make their way down his face.

He looks… terrified.

He died scared in the arms of his abuser. Someone who never even apologized to him. For fucking anything. Some vile part of Katsuki reminds him.

He saved me because I couldn’t do my fucking job.

He thrusts Izuku’s lifeless body into Shouto’s arms, who lets out a heartwrenching sob. Katsuki scrambles back, and can vaguely register the sound of pink cheeks vomiting behind him.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck-” becoming increasingly more desperate with each utterance of the word, “FUCK!” Kirishima comes up behind him, picking him off the dust-covered ground and holding him to his chest. “This is all my fault!!!” He wails, “He fucking saved me, I couldn’t- this isn’t right no no NO-”

“Shhhh Katsuki-” Eijirou soothes him through his own tears, always the constant in Katsuki’s life. Well, after Deku.

Deku Deku Deku.

Dead Deku.

Because of you.

Katsuki takes another good look at Deku’s face where Shouto had freaked and discarded him on the ground. The unnatural bend of his arms, the bloody drool escaping his parted- if you can even call that a mouth anymore, his eyes.

And he screams.

He screams and he screams and he screams until someone shakes him so hard he wakes up.

Wait-

“BAKUGO!!! WAKE UP PLEASE-” Shitty hair screams at him, shaking his shoulders desperately as he thrashes in his sheets.

He stills, staring up at Kirishima with a shocked expression.

“Wh-”

“You were having a nightmare,” Kirishima explains, gasping for breath like he just ran a marathon.

Katsuki looks to the doorway where half of the boys in their class stand, expressions varying from worried to shocked.

He looks back at Kirishima, a pitiful whimper escaping his throat, “It- it wasn’t real?”

Katsuki looks to the door, half expecting to see Izuku there.

Missing an ear, you can see his tongue through his cheek.

Katsuki gulps, “Where’s Izuku?” He murmurs into the quiet room.

“Izuku?” Someone in the hallway mutters.

“Uh,” Kirishima catches himself before he can say something dumb, “Izu?- Uh- Midoriya is probably in his room. Didn’t think you’d want him here, but he knows. You kinda woke up the whole dorm.”

Kirishima has barely finished the sentence before he’s jumping out of bed, pajamas be damned, and sprinting toward the stairs. When he gets to Izuku’s floor he makes a hard right, Icyhot shouting something about being nice behind him.

Katsuki can yell at him later.

Running gives him time to think, and the more Katsuki thinks the more he realizes that his nightmare might as well have been a prophecy. Izuku would pull some martyr shit like that, but it was only Katsuki’s fault in the first place that he was put in that situation. He’s the only one to blame. Izuku had done everything right, and Katsuki managed to fuck it up.

Hollow socket, tendons hanging, blood turning his green suit a muddied brown.

Katsuki knocks on the door frantically, scared about what he’ll see when Izuku answers.

There’s some rustling from inside before Izuku peeks out, green curls messy from sleep.

“Wh- I thought Aoyama said you were having a nightmare.” His eyebrows furrow.

“I was,” Katsuki breathes, taking in how whole his rival is. “But it wasn’t real.”

He reaches out hesitantly and brushes an unruly lock of green out of Izuku’s left eye.

“Everything’s where it should be-” He chuckles almost in bewilderment.

He drags his fingers gently down Izuku’s cheek, tracing where the decay had rotted away skin, now whole.

A few of the classmates who followed him gasp in surprise when Katsuki clutches Izuku’s shoulders and buries his face in soft green hair. Completely breaking down as he sobs.

Izuku freezes, terrified of ruining the moment, even though he really wants to ask someone what the fuck is happening.

He gives Kirishima a questioning look as he hesitantly rubs along Katsuki’s back.

The redhead just shrugs.

“I’m sorry Izuku.”

Aaaand the damn breaks.

Izuku sobs as Katsuki clutches him tighter, their friends begin to awkwardly back out of the hallway after witnessing whatever that was.

“Wh- Kacchan?” He pulls away reluctantly, but he needs to see Katsuki’s face.

The blond’s eyes are red and puffy, same as his cheeks, but he’s dead serious.

“I’m so fucking sorry. You don’t deserve any of the shit I put you through, you’re a really good guy.” He heaves in a breath, “And- I know you’ll be a great hero someday.”

“Kacchan… why?”

Katsuki looks away, “I just- thought about some things,” He doesn’t mention that the thinking involved seeing his classmate’s bloodied corpse, “realized how full of myself I am. You really did just want help on that math homework, huh?” He huffs, shaking his head at his past self.

“I did. What else would I have wanted?”

Katsuki sniffs, angrily rubbing at his eyes, “I don’t know, Izuku. I’m a fucking idiot.”

Izuku smiles sadly, “All I’ve ever wanted is to be your friend, Kacchan.

The blond nods, “Yeah, I think I see that now. Can- can we still do that? Be friends?”

Izuku beams, rubbing his own tears away and pulling Katsuki into another tight hug.

“There’s nothing I want more, Katsuki.”

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cupofteaguk · 4 years ago

Text

battle of brains (m)

PART OF THE REPUTATION SERIES

summary: when it comes to academics, everyone knows not to disrupt Park Jimin with his high-standing reputation. but how is a transfer student from Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry supposed to know about maintaining his reputation? spoiler alert: they don’t care.

pairing: jimin x fem!reader

genre: hogwarts au, nerd!jimin, enemies to lovers au | smut

warnings: jimin and yn are arrogant idiots, inappropriate usage of Head Student/prefect equipment, alcohol consumption, the story sort of rushes towards the end because I was (and am) so tired of writing this lmao

smut present in the form of: sexual tension, slight dirty talk maybe idk what i’m doing, light bratty and dom vibes, fingering, unprotected sex, cumplay, overstimulation, bondage, one (1) spank, dry humping, slight voyeurism (they have sex in a bathroom, it’s not as gross as it sounds i promise), yeah idk there’s a lot of filth i lost control lol

word count: 25k

a/n: I have poured my blood sweat and tears (by bts) into this fic and appreciate the patience of everyone on this site. hope you enjoy it xx

Park Jimin enters the school grounds the same way he has for the past six years: smirk on his face, books in his bag, and a knowledge in his heart that he is the smartest student standing within these castle walls.

After all, ever since stepping off the train of platform nine and three-quarters all those years ago, Park Jimin has never slipped below an O on his test grades, on his assignments, and overall grades in his classes. Six years have seen Park Jimin on a first name basis with all of his professors, every conversation plagued with his natural talent and natural inclination to do well on essays and exams. And none of them are overgeneralizations about Jimin either—if those aforementioned Outstanding marks on his report cards are anything to go off of. It’s a good position to be in, one that Park Jimin acknowledges and is proud of. Why wouldn’t he be? He’s spent years buried in the library, combing through as many books as his mind would allow him to, using his knowledge to lead discussions and tests and basically set himself as one of brightest wizards in Hogwarts.

So, pair that intelligence with his charming smile and his highly capable social skills to last in plenty of social interactions—and you get Park Jimin. He’s proud, smart, smug, and currently raising his hand. It’s a normal sight for any student in Hogwarts who has the pleasure (or misfortune, or annoyance) of attending class with Park Jimin or attending class with the same house as Park Jimin. His quick-wit and fast processing brain earned him lots of points towards the Slytherin house. But for every point he earned Slytherin, he took away the opportunity for another house to earn points—hence, where the annoyance from his peers probably comes into play.

But Park Jimin doesn’t care. He doesn’t need to look out for anyone other than himself. That’s why as soon as Professor Binns opened class with his usual first question: “Can anyone tell me what followed the Soap Blizzard of 1378?”, he lifts his hand up.

He waits for Professor Binns to look up and call his name, as it usually goes. Jimin’s usual plan, however, is halted when an unfamiliar voice sounds from the back of the classroom. “I believe it was the Wizarding Economic Bubble Burst, professor.”

A different kind of silence takes over the classroom, one that is plagued with a weight of questions and surprise. Who was talking? Who would answer a question without raising their hand?

But above all: Who would try to overstep Park Jimin?

Jimin overcomes the momentary flood of confusion that pour through him as he lowers his hand. As soon as his hand is back on his desk, he follows what his peers are doing in turning around in his seat, to see who the voice belongs to. At the doorway stands a student Jimin has never seen in his life, dressed in what looks to be new Hogwarts robes. Behind you is Professor McGonagall, displaying no expression to give away who you are or what you’re doing here.

You’ve got your hands in the pocket of your robes, head tilted to the side, looking as if answering Professor Binns question had required no extra mental effort, as if you had the answer ready on the tip of your tongue.

At your response, Professor Binns looks up from his podium. “You are correct. Normally, I require students wait to be called on first before answering my question. But you provided a full answer, which is impressive. Especially for an event that hasn’t been covered for you students in a few years. But no matter. To what do I owe the pleasure, Professor McGonagall?”

“My apologies, Professor Binns,” She says, holding up a slip of paper. “But we have a new transfer student—someone from the Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.” The professor directs her attention to the rest of the class. “I know we rarely get transfer students, especially so late in the student’s life, so I expect you all to be welcoming to help Ms. Y/N get adjusted.”

The room is immediately enveloped in a blanket of whispers. Professor McGonagall is right—it’s not just rare to get transfer students, it’s practically unheard of. Especially during a student’s last year in school. The questions start coming up. Who are you? What type of situation are you in that would call for a transfer across the world? And again, the biggest question of all, how could you overstep Park Jimin?

Professor Binns stares at the two at the door for a moment longer, before he looks back down at the podium. “Very well. Ms. Y/N, was it? Take a seat. Contrary to my previous question, today’s lecture isn’t going to be about the Soap Blizzard, but it is a vaguely entertaining topic to engage in…”

He starts to drone on about something else. Maybe goblins or something? Park Jimin isn’t very sure anymore. The only thing he’s conscious of right now is the whispering exchanges between you and the professor. Professor McGonagall hands you the transfer papers. She asks you a few more questions before turning around and heading back down the hallway she had entered from. This leaves you alone in the doorway, lingering for a moment, before you start to move.

Even though Professor Binns is still going on about the topic for today, it’s clear hardly anyone is paying attention. The weight of their gaze falls solely on you as you enter the classroom. You aren’t doing anything to earn their attention, but questions about you largely outweighs any questions anyone might have about class.

People continue to watch as you brush behind Jimin’s seat, before settling yourself in the only vacant chair in the classroom—a place that also so happens to be Jimin’s desk partner. Jimin watches out of the corner of his eye as you settle yourself in, taking out your notebook, quill, and ink. He thinks about the possibility of you saying something to him—maybe an apology for answering a question he had already raised his hand for. Maybe an introduction. Maybe you would ask him how he knew about the Soap Blizzard. Yet, the longer the pair of you sit there, listening but not really listening to Professor Binns go on and on, the longer Jimin feels himself turn red with irritation. You remain quiet.

The class time goes a lot slower than Jimin is used to, as his mind is reeling too much with questions about his new desk partner to pay any attention to class material. It isn’t until Professor Binns is dismissing the class in his usual deadpan tone, does Jimin turn to look at you.

He pastes on a friendly expression. “Hey there,” He greets, just as you’re screwing on the cap of your ink bottle. “That was really impressive when you knew the answer to the question at the beginning of class. Did you guys over at Ilvermorny just go over the Bubble Burst before you transferred?”

You do look over at Jimin this time, eying him up for a moment before you smile. “No, not really. We went over that shit the same time as you guys.” You turn back to gathering your quill and ink. You flip your hair over your shoulder when it starts to get into your face. “I just have better memory than most.”

Jimin blinks, having not expected such an answer from you. You didn’t even thank him for the compliment, nevermind that you weren’t giving him anything to make a conversation from.

You flash him one last glance before you straighten up from your seat, making your way to the front of the room. It’s probably to ask Professor Binns about bringing you up to speed with any potential assignments or readings you need to fulfill in order to do well in the class. But just like with the whole encounter the pair of you experienced thus far, it further continues to rub Jimin the wrong way. As far as first impressions go, the one you leave behind is absolutely—!

“Terrible,” Jimin reports as he sits himself down in the courtyard, book bag thrown onto the ground and catching the attention of the other boys who are already situated around the area. He plops down next to Jungkook, running a hand through his hair and looking irritated enough that it halts any outside conversation that may have occurred before his appearance.

Namjoon raises an eyebrow at Jimin’s arrival. “You doing okay there?”

Jimin gives a heavy sigh. “You should have been in class with me today. We have a new transfer student from the Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and she is—!”

“A new student at this time of year?” Yoongi interrupts, already proving to be uninterested with the direction of the conversation as he’s writing something down in his notebook. “During our last year?”

Jungkook perks up at the mention of ‘new’ and ‘student’. “Is she cute?”

Hoseok giggles, elbowing the boy. “Trying to find someone who doesn’t know what it’s like to be fucked over by you, huh, JK?”

Jimin shrugs a shoulder, raising an arm into the air with the palm of his hand upturned, furrowing his eyebrows at the question. “I don’t know. Our conversation didn’t exactly highlight the charming aspects of her personality.”

Namjoon whistles. “She must have really done something for you to be annoyed.”

“She was just…” Jimin trails off, trying to find the right word to describe the current feeling setting with him. “She just—she answered Professor Binn’s beginning of class question without raising her hand. She didn’t even wait for Professor Binns to call on her! Can you believe that?”

There’s a lapse of silence as his friends take a moment to take in Jimin’s explanation of his day.

Jungkook is the first to realize that Jimin is finished, and is the first to speak up. “Is that it?”

Yoongi looks up from his notebook. “But you hardly ever wait for the professors to call your name.”

“Hey!” Jimin calls, pointing a finger at the Head Boy. “Whose side are you on?”

“Yours, of course,” Yoongi says, brushing the hair from his forehead. “But you seem to be upset for a minor reason. Even from my perspective, it doesn’t seem like she did anything wrong. She knew the question, so she answered it.”

Jimin pouts slightly. “Doesn’t seem like you’re on my side though! How can you say something like that? For a Head Boy, you’re not good at paying attention to rules.”

“Maybe participation is measured differently at Ilvermorny—you expect me to write up detention to someone because they broke rules they didn’t even know existed in the first place?” Yoongi asks. The corner of his lips turn up. “I admit I can be a little harsh with giving out detentions, but the students I target have known about the Hogwarts rules their entire life. They should know better. The expectation on that transfer student is a little much, especially coming from you. Are you sure you’re not just mad that someone who wasn’t you got to show off?

Jimin glares. “Of course not,” He protests, done in a way that is overly exaggerated and implies that he’s definitely mad he didn’t get to show off.

“Of course he is,” Namjoon grumbles under his breath. “The spotlight is taken away from him for two seconds and he’s already pouting like a baby.”

“I’m not pouting,” Jimin scowls. “I can’t believe you guys aren’t on my side. Someone answering a question before me is like someone catching a Golden Snitch before Jeon.”

Jungkook shakes his head. “You trying to compare us or something, Park? Besides, a question given at the beginning of class is different from a whole Quidditch game. I guess it’s more like someone doing better than me during Quidditch practices? I’m not at my best, just like how you aren’t at your best during questions asked in class that, frankly, don’t mean shit.” He reaches into his bag and pulls out a piece of bread he had taken from the Great Hall earlier that morning. No one questions it. Jungkook is known to sneak snacks around. He takes a bite of the bread. “And just like how I’m at my best during Quidditch games, you’re at your best when you’re prepared and focused.”

“Jungkook is right,” Namjoon says, slinging an arm around Jungkook’s shoulder. “So what if a transfer student gets one question right? You’ve gotten six years worth of questions correct. When the tests start coming around and the professors congratulate you on another high score, I think you’ll realize how much you’re overreacting.” He holds up a finger when Jimin opens his mouth. “You are, but that’s fine.”

Jimin sighs. “Okay, okay, you’re right. It was just one question. It’s not that big of a deal. You’re right. I’m fine.”

His friends exchange glances, but Jimin pretends he doesn’t see them because he’s too busy trying to engrave the previous reassurances into his mind. He was totally fine. He could brush past this minor irritation. It’s not like other students never got to answer questions delivered by a professor over his student career, because they had. This was just another person, and you are just another student—a new student, but a student nonetheless. In a few weeks, you’ll just become someone he’ll pass by in the hallway.

The mental note that in the long run, your small interaction would become a hazy memory, relaxes Jimin. After all, it’s not a big deal. It was fine.

Spoiler alert: It was not fine.

Rumors have a habit of flying around Hogwarts quickly. After all, when students are more-or-less trapped in a castle for nine months of a year, the amount of entertainment available becomes limited to homework, friends, a handful of outdoor activities, and participating in the creation and distribution of gossip. Kim Namjoon knows all about gossip—he’s part of the foundation that creates that business.

And it’s all driving Park Jimin crazy, not because of the act of gossip itself, but because the rumors are circling around an individual he thought would have been pushed to the backburner by now. That individual, as could be guessed, is you. And he can’t believe it.

In all honesty, he should have known better. A student from the Ilvermorny school comes in during the final year, answers a question seamlessly right off the bat, and makes no attempts to befriend any students. What kind of person wouldn’t be curious about that?

The answer is no one. Everyone is curious about you, and it shows.

After all, it just takes one week for everyone to know about your quick response to Professor Binns question, and even less time for assumptions about your education level to come into discussion.

“I hear she was the top student at Ilvermorny,” Namjoon says by way of greeting as he slides across from Jimin in the library.

Jimin barely looks up from his textbook. “And that’s supposed to make me feel better because…?” He trails off.

Namjoon blinks. “It wasn’t.”

Jimin scowls. “Fuck off.”

It’s hard to pretend someone doesn’t exist when their mere presence can cause so much discussion and debate. Besides, he already had an inkling that you weren’t just any normal student from Ilvermorny. Your knowledge of the material being taught in class has shed a light to two things: one, it highlights your ability to retain topics from years ago and two, it shows how quickly you can follow your professors advice on readings or essays needed in order to be up to date with the curriculum.

Conclusion: you are smart. Really smart, actually. Smart enough to be the top student at Ilvermorny. And the seeming lack of effort on your end to accomplish so much with little work is what Jimin realizes is the most irritating aspect of this whole thing. That may have slid by at Ilvermorny, but this is different. Because you being the top student at Ilvermorny is equivalent to Jimin being the top student at Hogwarts. And if you took over his spot, where would that leave Jimin? The second best student at Hogwarts?

Yeah, he doesn’t think so.

The feelings only dig themselves in deeper when the first few weeks pass and test dates start being scheduled, announced, and distributed. Jimin studies the way he has for years: he buries himself in his notebooks and holes up in the library for as long as physically possible. He smiles at some pretty girls that walk by, that park themselves in a table just a few rows down from his own. They giggle at the smiles he sends and the glances he steals with them. He doesn’t start a conversation with any of those girls, however, he continues to keep to himself as he rummages through his notes to stay on top of his study schedule.

After a few minutes of organizing and filling out study guides, Jimin realizes that there is a question he hadn’t taken note of during his previous classes. With a sigh, he straightens up out of his desk, heading towards the aisle filled with Charms textbooks. His eyes narrow on the spines of the books, already having a vivid image in his mind of what he was looking for.

His fingers reach out, hovering, until a movement next to the corner of his eye stops him. He lowers his hand, and glares. “I’m a little surprised to see you here,” He notes by way of greeting.

You give Jimin a smile with no teeth. “Is that anyway to speak to your seat partner, Park Jimin?”

“I was just making an observation.” He frowns. “What are you doing here?”

You don’t comment about him answering your question with a question. After all, this kind of conversation is a normal occurrence between the two of you—as it has been ever since your first encounter.

“Just grabbing a book,” You say, reaching into the shelf and sliding out a copy of an advanced seventh year Charms textbook. “Those bonus questions on the charms study guide are a real bitch, am I right?”

He stares at you. “I can’t say for sure. I haven’t gotten there yet.”

“Wow.” You grin. “And I thought you were one of the smart ones, Park Jimin.” You bring the book to your chest. “I should get back to my seat.”

He hums, about to let you slip past his fingers, but a thought stops him. “Hey,” He calls out, watching as you turn back around. Your eyes study him—gaze observant and unwavering.

His own eyes momentarily flicker down below your face. From the collar of your school shirt to your waist, to the line where the fabric of your skirt meets the skin of your leg. He swallows, dragging his eyes back up to you. You raise an eyebrow, a corner of your lips turning up, as if you know what he’s thinking. “Yes?” You ask, making yourself comfortable again against the shelf.

“Listen,” He starts, trying to mentally form his words. “I know you’re new, so I’m giving you the benefit of the doubt. But ranking first on tests and grades is sort of my thing. I’ve been here since I turned eleven, so I think as a newcomer you should learn your place now before rumors get spread and your life here as a student gets very complicated.”

You huff in disbelief, taking a step towards him. “Is that a threat, Park Jimin?”

“It’s whatever you want it to be,” He returns.

You’re standing at an arm’s length away from him. “I don’t know what kind of game you think you’re trying to play. Trying to enforce something that only benefits you, because it seems like you can’t handle when someone is smarter than you are.” You smile again, no teeth. “I’m not scared of you. You think I give a fuck about what your little gang of friends have to spread about me? Yeah, I know about your group. If you think bullshit like that is going to stop me from doing my best, then you better start doing some actual research about me. I think you’re in over your head. I was the best at my school, so don’t think I don’t have what it takes to be the best here.”

Jimin remains unwavering, choosing to keep his gaze on you. “We’ll see about that.”

You raise an eyebrow at the challenge, looking amused rather than annoyed. For a moment, neither of you say anything. Your gaze switches between his eyes.

And down at his lips.

They flash back up just as fast as they had looked down.

Your tongue quickly darts across your lower lip. “I guess we will,” You say, taking a step back. “I’ll see you around, Park Jimin.”

His gaze trails down your backside as you leave.

The Charms exam is the first test of Jimin’s final year at Hogwarts, and he goes in with high expectations for himself—as he always does. He answers all the questions, recalling them from the study guides or various readings he had done in preparation. All in all, it’s a regular Charms exam in all its short answers and detailed explanations, but one he has full confidence in doing the best in once again.

So imagine his surprise when Professor Flitwick stops in front of your desk, produces your test from the collection in his arms, and utters the following words: “Congratulations to Ms. Y/N for making the top score in the class. She went above and beyond for all the questions, including the extra credit, and is therefore very well deserving of her Outstanding score!” He claps. “Yes, yes, very good Ms. Y/N! Keep up the good work!”

You smile, looking down at your practically unmarked test, taking in the O at the top of the paper.

The way you slide your eyes towards Park Jimin does not go unnoticed by him, who looks down at his own test. There is a single mark on his test, a -½ at the top, with points marked off from one of his last extra credit questions. Missing a half mark on a test isn’t unheard of with a Charms exam, which can be long and tedious and requires thorough paragraph-length responses.

However, Park Jimin not scoring the highest score in the class is unheard of.

And now you know it, as the students looking around the classroom is anything to go off on. You are not looking at the students around you. You are looking right at Park Jimin, with the corner of your lips turned up, a look of pride written all across your face.

He doesn’t know what he’s going to do next, but maybe he’ll try to take a note from Jung Hoseok’s book about putting a damper on someone’s day—he wonders if you like hiccough sweet in your morning tea.

Park Jimin never gets to find out if you like hiccough sweet in your morning tea, because he gets called into Professor McGonagall’s office before he can figure out the best way to give you a taste of how rough he could make your life.

Not only does he get called into the Headmistress’ office, he gets called in with you.

He sees you about to pull open the office door, and cannot seem to help his impatience. He rushes towards you, brushing past you in an attempt to reach the handle first. “Excuse me sweetheart, I have an appointment with Professor McGonagall so if you could let me go ahead, I’d appreciate it…”

You move forward to block him from opening the door. You give him an eyebrow raise, thoroughly unimpressed. “Sweetheart?” You inquire, referring to his nickname.

He blinks. Normally, his peers would be flustered at being cornered in such a way and he cannot help his further frustration—because just what is your problem? Do you not have any weaknesses?

Since people are usually flustered following his whole ‘sweetheart’ role, he doesn’t know how to respond to someone who isn’t flustered by his role. Which, in turn, leaves him slightly flustered. “Well…” He starts.

You scoff, rolling your eyes. “I have a name, Park Jimin, and I’d appreciate it if you called me that instead of whatever bullshit you think I’ll bend over for.”

“Duly noted,” He grumbles, deciding to let you have this one. “I wasn’t trying to be difficult though, sweet—Y/N.” He corrects himself upon seeing your glare. If he thought you weren’t serious with your threats, he definitely doesn’t think that now. The glare you give him makes him wonder if maybe you’ll slip hiccough sweet into his morning tea. “I do have an appointment with Professor McGonagall right now.”

That makes you furrow your eyebrows, but not in a way that’s directed at him. “Huh,” You say, mostly to yourself. “I do too. That’s weird. Does she want to see both of us at the same time?”

Jimin crosses his arms over his chest. “Why are you asking me? I’m just here to get this meeting over with.”

“So am I, I’m just trying to figure out what this means! Don’t be an ass about this,” You snap back. You swear you’re about to go for the neck before the office door opens of its own accord.

“Y/N! Jimin! Please come in.” It’s Professor McGonagall.

You sharply turn to Jimin. “Great, she heard your squawking.”

Jimin glares at you. “You’re the one who’s talking about bending over for me!”

You flush deeply at that. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Y/N? Jimin?” Professor McGonagall appears at the office door. “You may come in, that’s why I opened the door for you.”

“P-Professor,” You say, stammering slightly and Jimin blinks at the sight—having never seen you look nervous before. “Whatever you heard outside, it’s not a reflection of our actual conversations…”

“As if we ever have any actual conversations,” Jimin grumbles under his breath, and you give him a look that could cut glass.

Before you can continue, the professor holds up a hand. “I just happened to open the door because it’s the time both of you should be here for your meeting anyways.” She shifts her gaze between the two of you. “Regardless of who is offering to bend over for whom.”

Even Jimin has to admit the hotness on his cheeks. Neither of you say anything to that, although you kick Jimin in the shin before entering the office. The pair of you are gestured to take a seat in front of Professor McGonagall’s desk.

“I do apologize for the last minute call,” She says as she laces her fingers together and places them on the desk. “But an assignment has come up that requires attention from both of you. It’s something that the top senior students are asked to do every year, but I wanted to make sure Y/N got adjusted before assigning her with a new project.”

“Forgive my bluntness, professor,” Jimin speaks, hands on his lap. “But is asking the transfer student really necessary for what project you have for me? Since I’m the top student, I’m sure I can shoulder this by myself—!”

“The project requires the top male and female student,” Professor McGonagall interrupts carefully, but she’s giving Jimin a look. “And since Y/N was the top student at Ilvermorny, her involvement in the project was requested by a member of the Ministry.”

Jimin notices the way you stiffen at that—he sees it in the tightness of your jaw, the way you sit a little straighter. The scoff overpower his curiosity, seeing your reaction as nothing more than a student trying to land a job with the aforementioned Ministry of Magic, and he hates it.

Neither you nor Professor McGonagall comment on his reaction, you just nod at her words with the kind of eyes that say you know exactly which member she’s referring to. Jimin decides not to ponder too deeply over it regardless. Any question, sarcastic or not, would not be received well by you.

“And what exactly is the project about, professor?” You ask after a moment.

Professor McGonagall readies herself at that. “It’s a project created by the Ministry of Magic,” She starts. “The project basically asks the top two students at Hogwarts to present a report about their time at the school—anything you two may have learned, from your classes to the extra curricular activities you might have enjoyed. We like to keep a good relationship with the Ministry of Magic, mainly to maintain career opportunities and internships open to the students here. The Ministry also likes to learn about what we’re teaching to either help fund programs and also keep other schools up to date with curriculum. Of course, the students who complete the project are allowed to opt out of their NEWT exams and are offered careers for those specific NEWTS. The project is given as an incentive for the top students to take advantage of the opportunity to jump start their careers—it’s also meant to serve as a reward for working so hard.”

“So, we have to…” Jimin trails off, looking at you. “Work together?”

“Yes, Mr. Park,” Professor McGonagall says. “The two of you will need to work together to come up with something cohesive, and professional. Y/N is still getting adjusted to life at Hogwarts, so I’m sure you’ll do well in showing her around the castle.”

“Yeah, Mr. Park,” You add in, wearing a smile across your lips. “Guess this means you have to accept me as your equal, huh?”

“When would we have to give this presentation?” Jimin cuts in, ignoring you completely and seeing the way you exhale through your nose in amusement.

“It’s after the fall quarter,” The professor answers, eyes flickering between the two of you. “If there’s any problems that come up, or if either of you have any questions—I am available to answer them. Although I hope you both will be able to sort through most problems, like adults.”

“I’m sure Mr. Park and I can figure something out,” You say, voice sugar sweet and eyes bright with attention. There’s a teasing tone, something you always seem to have during your encounters with Jimin. The boy merely sighs, mostly to himself, with the knowledge that this is something that has been handed to him. And therefore, it’s something he cannot outsmart.

“Wonderful,” Professor McGonagall replies, looking relieved. “You both may go if you don’t have any further questions.”

You straighten up, bowing to the professor, and purposely allowing your skirt to brush Jimin’s arm as you leave the room. His jaw sets further, because he could have sworn the skin of your leg touched his shoulder and the thought only annoys him more. Did you have to be such a brat—?

“Do you have anymore concerns, Mr. Park?” Professor McGonagall asks, beady eyes looking right through him. She seems to be challenging him. The Headmistress is, after all, no stranger to Jimin’s constant hustle to be the top student at the school. Jimin wonders if his nerves and him feeling threatened by a new student is showing. If it is, she doesn’t say anything.

Jimin slowly gets up out of his chair. “No, professor,” He says, tilting his head slightly. “No concerns, no problems.”

“Alright, well, you better get going,” Professor McGonagall says, picking up her quill. “I assume you have meetings to arrange with Y/N.”

Jimin doesn’t say anything to that. He just watches the professor for a second longer before turning around and exiting the same way he had entered. A lot of thoughts enter his mind in that moment, mainly thoughts circling around what in the ever fuck was he going to do about being confined to working with someone he honestly could not stand—!

“Just to let you know, I’m just as excited about this project as you are.”

He stops short, lingering just outside the door to the office. “What are you doing?”

You uncross your arms, remove yourself from your position against the wall. “I’m just expressing my excitement for this assignment.”

“You’re sticking around just to spite me.”

“Contrary to popular belief, not everything is about you. You’re just upset because you have to acknowledge that I’m smart enough to challenge you. Not only that, but smart enough to warrant a request for someone at the Ministry of Magic,” You say. “But that’s okay. I don’t need your acknowledgment—I’ve been doing fine all on my own.”

He turns to look at you. “Hey, what was all that bullshit about being requested anyways?”

You readjust the bag at your shoulder. “Hm, let me see… oh yeah. It’s none of your business.”

“Does that specific member at the Ministry have something to do with your transfer?”

You meet his gaze, eyes narrowing. “What part of ‘it’s none of your business’ do you not understand?”

“Oh, I understand it completely.” He takes a step towards you, hands in his pocket. “Since, you know, you’re all excited about us working together, I think the least you can do is give me some answers so I have a good idea of who I’m working with.”

You eye him up. “This is a presentation, Park Jimin, not a date.”

“What’s not a date?” Kim Taehyung slides up to the pair of you. He looks between the two of you glaring at each other. “Hold on, is that code for something? Are you guys planning a rendezvous? Either way, this is a really weird way to flirt…”

“We’re not flirting,” Jimin cuts in, sighing again when he seems to process who is next to him. He runs a hand through his hair. “What are you doing here?”

Taehyung blinks. “I saw you and thought I’d say hello. If I had known I’d be walking into this very angry form of eye-fucking then I’d—!”

“Do you have selective hearing?” You cut in. “Your friend already said we weren’t flirting. Which is true, we definitely aren’t.”

Taehyung looks at you, seeming to realize who you are right off the bat. This is probably because Taehyung is popular and charming and generally knows all the students who reside in this castle. Not being able to identify you gives him an exact answer to your name. “Hey, you’re—!”

“Leaving.” You turn around. Damn you, for twirling in a way that makes your skirt spin around. And damn Jimin, for watching that.

“... the new girl,” Taehyung says to nobody, voice lowering considerably as soon as you gave both boys your back. Knowing he won’t get his answer from you, he turns to Jimin. “That was the new girl, right?”

“Yes, Taehyung,” Jimin answers. “That was the new girl. And my life is officially over.”

Jimin hadn’t been exaggerating when he delivered the news to Taehyung. The universe setting you and Jimin up to be partners on an assignment that circled around being on the same page and constructing something cohesive? That in itself, especially with two individuals with such strong opinions, is just a recipe for disaster.

To be fair, the first meeting you and Jimin have isn’t a disaster.

Not immediately, at least.

“For the last time,” You say, rubbing at your temples. “We’re not going to do a presentation about your study habits and the grades you’ve received since your first year. Actually, not only are we not going to do that, I refuse to follow along in something that stupid.”

Jimin feigns an innocent pout. “But the assignment is to talk about our experience at Hogwarts—and I really think my own history is the only thing we can go off of! And my experience is getting good grades, so it seems like the shoe fits pretty well on that one.”

“Because you have nothing else better to talk about,” You grumble underneath your breath, straightening up and leaning back slightly when Jimin turns to glare at you. You hold up your hands in mock defense.

“Ha, ha, very funny. At least I would have something to talk about. You’ve been at Hogwarts for, what, a few weeks? What would you talk about? Interrupting class lectures and bending over for the smartest student at school, like what’s that about—?”

The flat of your palm goes straight for his collarbone. “Will you shut up about that?” You hiss.

“Ouch!” Jimin whines, running his own hand over the place you hit him. “What the fuck—!”

“Excuse me,” Madam Pince interjects from behind both of you. “Mr. Park, I’m surprised that I need to remind you of all people that the library is not a place for noise!”

Jimin winces. “Sorry Madam Pince.” He waits until aforementioned Madam Pince is out of earshot before whipping back around to face you. “Nice going, fucker. You’re lucky I’m not a mean person otherwise I’d make your life a living hell for that stunt.”

“‘I’m not a mean person’ he says,” You quote. “While he yells at me and calls me a fucker.”

Jimin leans forward to rest his head into the palm of his hands. “We’re never going to get anything done, are we?”

“And, by the way, what is your obsession with talking about me bending over for you?” You bring up, shoving one of your textbooks out of the way. You are able to turn more comfortably this time, resting your elbow on the table with your body facing towards Jimin. “You like watching people squirm or something?”

At that, he peeks out through the gaps of his fingers to look at you. Immediately, his eyes land on your bare knees, where your skirt probably would have been had you not been moving around previously in a way that caused the fabric to rise up. The fabric is now at your thigh, with your legs spread enough due to your quick movements. His eyes flicker down to the junction, darkened by the shadow casted by your skirt, leaving enough to the imagination.

He shuts his eyes, the previous flickers undetectable because of his hands blocking the way, but he cannot help the racing of his heart. He feels as if he just did something risky, thrilling, dirty.

Although who is he kidding. He did, in fact, do something risky, thrilling, and dirty all in one subtle glance. The knowledge of this only frustrates him further. Did you position your legs like that on purpose? Did you know that he would notice—just as he’s noticed you since your very first day in class? Today, though, it feels different. Beyond just the normal bounds of frustration, there’s a curiosity. More than curiosity, there’s a flashing image behind his eyes.

One of what it would feel like to have your thighs around his waist.

There’s a twitch between his legs.

“Not just anyone,” He returns instead.

You’re looking at him, legs still parted. “You wanna give me an idea of what that’s like, Park Jimin?”

Jimin continues to look at you, taking in your amused, curious, serious expression and the realization pings through his mind. You are doing this on purpose. You’re trying to test him, mess with him, and you are enjoying it—as you have been since he threatened you in the library. Just as you’ve done with staring at his mouth, when you brushed the hem of your skirt over his arm, and especially now. You aren’t stupid. You’ve seen his lingering eyes in the same way he’s noticed yours. You’re trying to see how far you can push him before he snaps.

He decides to ignore the fleeting distraction between his legs as he turns back to the opened textbook on his desk. “Unfortunately for you, you don’t fall in that category. Your curiosity is cute, though.”

“Hm.” You hum, finally turning back towards the desk and finally closing your legs and finally removing the distraction from his line of sight. “That’s a pity.”

He shrugs. “Since it seems like you do enjoy the thought of squirming around for me, maybe stay out of my way and I’ll consider showing you what that could be about.”

You actually laugh at that, a soft sound—appropriate, considering both of you were in a library, but something almost… whimsy? And pretty? What was happening?

At that, Jimin cannot help his own exhale of air, as he looks at you with eyebrows furrowed. “What’s so funny?”

You hum again, shrugging as you pull your school bag forward to stuff it with parchment and books. “Oh, nothing.” You straighten out of the seat, shouldering your bag. “You just admitted that I’m in your way. And that’s exactly where I intend to stay.”

He flickers his gaze down to your bag. “Hold on, where do you think you’re going? We still have a whole presentation to draft.”

“Oh, I’m just doing some extra credit for Professor Binns,” You answer. “Besides, we basically have a whole fall quarter to work on it. Besides, your ideas aren’t exactly thought-provoking as they are. More than that, they suck. Come up with something better.”

“What, so it’s my job to come up with the different topics we’ll have to cover?” Jimin huffs.

You give him a vaguely surprised look. “You’re the one who said you were the only one with relevant ideas.” You glance down at your watch. “Listen, I really have to go. Come up with something better. Or ask me for my opinion next time and actually be willing to listen to it.” You deliver a sickly sweet smile, one that he wishes to wipe off. Maybe with some harsh words.

Or maybe his mouth—!

He tells himself it’s not creepy to watch your hips sway side to side as you leave the library.

Once you are gone, this leaves Jimin by himself, surrounded by people but alone in his thoughts. The banter has left him with a racing heart and, quite frankly, a semi in his slacks that he doesn’t think is going away anytime soon. Everytime he thinks he has a handle on what just happened, he gets a flash of your skirt or your lips or your hips and the memory of you being an absolute fucking brat—and that feeling comes back.

That feeling is one of pure frustration, a desire to just shove you against a wall, to see if he could swallow up all those words that do such a good job of riling him up.

He grits his teeth before moving to collect his own items of books and paperwork. Stuffing them into his bag, he begins to exit the library, hoping that each step he took would be a step away from that terrible idea. He couldn’t let you win—he couldn’t let you get to him.

The second meeting he has with you couldn’t entirely be defined as an actual meeting. But it’s an encounter, and it involves a conversation about the project—which fits the requirements of what a meeting technically could entail.

It happens a week after the first meeting, of seeing each other in classes but both of you making an active attempt to ignore each other. Both doing it for different reasons, but doing it nonetheless.

However, this changes when Jimin gets an idea for the project that he knows he needs to run by you. Assuming you don’t bark at him for lacking originality and assuming he could get through a proper interaction without shoving you against the wall. That latter thought has been getting increasingly more difficult as the week dragged on. You, with your stupid mini skirts and tucked in button-ups, your stupider display of legs that has piqued his interest more than any other member of the female population prior—a feat that is unbelievably stupid given that legs in itself isn’t a novel thing—along with your even stupidest strut down the hallways. Whether those things have been intentional or not, he honestly feels as if one wrong move could crack this facade he’s spent the week putting together.

He decides to pursue you after the shared Muggle Studies class you have together, when you’re out in the hallway and he’s following close behind. He doesn’t know your next destination, assuming you have one—because honestly, it’s been a few weeks since your official enrollment and he has yet to see you with a group of friends.

Instead, he elects to just ignore that internal question, and make his way towards you.

He matches stride with you. “Hear me out.”

You groan immediately. “Haven’t I heard enough of you already?”

That is true. The lesson in Muggle Studies had involved watching and talking about a muggle film and, naturally, Jimin had a lot to say.

Jimin grins. “Are you saying that none of my discussions were enticing enough for you, sweetheart?”

You glare at him. “What did I say about the sweetheart thing?”

You had warned him plenty. However, it’s worth seeing the angry flush along your cheeks. He tries at an answer too. “That you would bend over for me if I kept calling you by it?”

Your eyes narrow. “I’d choose your next words carefully, Park Jimin.”

“So serious,” He remarks, tearing his gaze from you.

You sigh. “Anyways, what are you even doing right now? Talking to me once a week to pick a fight seems desperate, especially for you.”

“I’m not trying to pick a fight—!” He cuts himself off. “I really did have a reason for catching up to you.” He stills. He really did forget what he had approached you for. “Shit, okay, give me a second.”

“Don’t hurt yourself.”

He ignores you. “Oh! Right! For the project. Actually here, let’s talk somewhere else.” Without a warning, he grabs your arm and practically drags you into one of the empty classrooms. It’s a room for astronomy labs—an open-spaced classroom with a high ceiling in case Professor Sinistra needed to recreate certain astronomical events not available during specific quarters or times of day. The ceiling is a navy color, dusted with tiny stars and constellations at the top, and rows of desks and empty seats around.

You and Jimin settle yourselves near the front of the classroom—close to the door but not close enough where a wrong move would send you out into the hallway.

When Jimin closes the door, you’re still watching him warily with arms over your chest. “Is your idea that good that you have to pull me into an empty classroom for it?”

“Well, I’m just saving you the embarrassment in case my idea happens to be good, you start cheering me on.”

You sigh. “Well, try me then, Park Jimin.”

“Alright,” He starts. “I hear you when you tell me just talking about my grades isn’t enough.”

“I didn’t say it wasn’t enough, I said that idea was dumb as shit—!”

He ignores you again. “So how about we talk about different aspects of Hogwarts. We can talk about things like the classes, Quidditch, spell-casting, the newspaper, and the role of the Head Boy.”

You do actually ponder this for a moment, but you’re extremely observant. He knows immediately that you’re about to spit something from the way you narrow your eyebrows. “Why be so specific? And what am I supposed to talk about from that limited pool of topics?”

He gives you a straightforward look. “I thought we already established that you would have nothing to talk about.”

You raise your eyebrows. “I didn’t think you were serious about that.”

“Well, as you should know sweetheart, I’m very serious all of the time.”

“Are you fucking stupid?” You’re glaring now. “Do you not remember Professor McGonagall telling us that this was a team project? We have to work together. If the Ministry comes to the realization that, no, we did not put together a cohesive presentation highlighting our own personal journeys and no, contrary to your pea brain, the presentation should never have centered around you in the first place, we’re going to be in deep shit. Professor McGonagall will probably have us shunned for the rest of the school year, we’ll definitely lose that internship opportunity with the Ministry and my father would—!” You cut yourself off immediately, wide-eyed at your own slip of the mouth.

Jimin raises an eyebrow at that. What does your father have to do with acing the presentation at the Ministry? The realization hits him pretty quick at that. “Oh, okay I see. So daddy was the one who requested your involvement on this team—?”

Your eyes, once wide with emotion and tinged with vaguely defined fear, harden. “How about you mind your own business and not resort to asking really inappropriate questions about my family life?” You snap.

“Woah, alright, I’ll stop,” Jimin interjects, raising both hands up. “If this is what I get for trying to be your friend.”

“For the last time,” You grit between your teeth, stepping closer to him, getting all up in his face and completely distracting him with the wash of lavender that overcomes his nostrils. There’s that delicious flush along your cheeks once again. “We are not friends. And don’t hold your breath because we’ll never be friends. I would never associate myself with anyone at this school, much less a vile, arrogant, disrespectful, terribly overrated individual like you—!”

Jimin doesn’t have an explanation for what he does next. He almost doesn’t even have control over his actions, like his body has a mind of his mind. One moment, he’s staring at you, far enough to still see your entire face but close enough to see the fire in your eyes.

And then the next moment, his eyes are closed and there’s something soft and warm against his lips. He’s kissing you.

The following seconds feel like minutes or hours, ticking slowly in contrast to Jimin’s thrumming heart. His fingers curl around something soft and textured: your hair. His lips, on his own unawareness, are moving frantically against yours—either to get his frustration out or get you to respond, he isn’t too sure.

It isn’t until his tongue pushes against your lips that he hears a whimper from the back of your throat that stirs up his insides like nothing else you’ve done to him before. He feels your fingers at the back of his neck, in his hair, nails digging into the skin, all before you part your lips. His boldness increases at the gesture, pressing harder against you.

The weight of him makes you take steps back, until both of you are moving about the classroom completely unaware of your surroundings. But Jimin doesn’t care, hardly even notices that you’re backing up. Every step you take back is matched with a step forward by him as he continues his attack on your mouth.

That is, until you hit one of the desks and the legs of the table scrap against the floor. The noise is like a bell that sets off in Jimin’s head. It goes off in your mind as well, actually, because you’re both quick to separate and push each other off. You stare at each other, wide-eyed and face flushed for entirely different reasons in comparison to a few seconds ago. Your lips are a deeper shade of red, and wet, and you look shocked. The expression is so opposite of the usual stern and stark that paints your face, so you appear surprisingly vulnerable.

For a moment, neither of you say anything. You simply stand there, taking in each other, as Jimin asks himself the same question over and over again. What the fuck just happened?

Unable to conjure up an answer to that, Jimin draws in a shaky breath. “Don’t tell anyone about this,” He whispers, immediately turning around and shoving open the door to the classroom and letting it slam shut behind him. He doesn’t look back, refuses to picture your expression in his mind because picturing it would make him second guess his decision.

Instead, he maintains his quick pace down the hallway, ignoring the calls of his name by peers and friends. His gaze is hyper focused on being somewhere other than here. So much so that he ends up shouldering his way into the boy’s bathroom, pacing past the row of toilet doors until he reaches the sinks and mirrors along the edge. He goes to one of the sinks as his palms come up to grip both sides of the sink. His eyes flint up, gazing at his reflection and taking it all in: from the flush of his own cheeks, the deeper red tint of his lips, the craze look in his eyes—like he wants more. Like he wanted more of you.

With a scoff, he rips his gaze away from the mirror and instead turns around to lean against the edge of the sink.

It’s not like he’s never kissed girls before. He has. Just never anyone who makes him as annoyed as you make him. This type of dynamic is new and involves unsure elements, a new game that he doesn’t know how to play.

Apparently, it’s one you don’t know how to play either.

It’s another three weeks of awkward stares, no eye contact, and one of you dashing out of classrooms first to avoid having to see each other in the hallway, until Professor McGonagall calls you back into her office. The space is naturally very reminiscent of the first meeting the three of you had together, but the tone is weighed down by tension and the obvious fact that you and Jimin are avoiding each other and have been avoiding each other for weeks.

The fact that the two of you refuse to look at each other is the first sign of this emotional conflict. Pair that with the lack of snappy banter, and all that contributes to the raised eyebrow Professor McGonagall gives both of you.

You look at Jimin out of the corner of your eye and seem to come to the conclusion that he isn’t going to participate. Which you are right, he has no intention of opening his mouth.

“Is something the matter, Professor?”

“I just thought I would have a little meeting to touch base with the both of you,” Professor McGonagall answers, shifting her gaze thoughtfully between you and Jimin. “I was seeing you hold meetings in the library on a few occasions, but there’s been an absence of that recently. During classes, I notice that neither of you engage in discussion and one of you is always the first to leave the room. Has there been a conflict of interest going on regarding the project?”

Jimin exhales a breath, wondering if you were going to spill the beans. Not explicitly, but you’ll probably start talking about how recent developments made you feel too nervous or too cautious to continue working with him—that you’d rather stop, or that you’d rather have Jimin step down. The kiss had been his fault, after all.

You take a few seconds to come up with your answer. “We were having some disagreements about the direction of the project,” You say at last, saying the words slowly and carefully and surprising Jimin. “So we haven’t talked for a little while, I think we just needed to collect our thoughts and come up with individual ideas, and then actually meet up and discuss rather than trying to grow something together.”

Professor McGonagall nods at that. “I understand. Well, if that’s the case. It seems the only advice I could give you both is to work through your problems. In other words, figure it out. There’s a lot riding on this project.”

The pair of you are then dismissed with a finality in her words. A warning.

Unlike previous interactions like sharing class together or running into one another in the halls, neither of you make a move to separate to run away. You linger near each other, awkward still, knowing that you both need to make amends and move past the incident but not sure how to do so.

“We should probably talk about this,” You say after a moment. You aren’t looking at him.

Jimin thinks about this. He sighs. “You’re right. I know a spot we can talk.” Turning around, he starts down the hallway. Your shoes echo against the castle walls, the high ceilings and long hallways that twist and turn. It’s much later into the night—the dinner crowd has dispersed back to respected common rooms or to the library for last minute studies. As a result, most of the hallways are devoid of students. The hallway routes around Professor McGonagall’s office are even more empty, given that a lot of classes are not in this corner of the castle and most places don’t invite loiters.

Jimin continues past closed doors, tall stained glass windows that bring in the moonlight. There’s a silence between you, not as awkward as it had been, but definitely filled with a veil of tension and lots of unanswered questions.

Finally, Jimin stops at a door not unlike the several other doors the pair of you had passed in your quest to get here. You’re about to ask what he’s doing and where he’s leading you and if he plans to kidnap you—because this kind of location in this kind of space would be perfect—before he’s muttering a password under his breath and opening the door. He keeps it open for you to enter the space first.

It’s a small classroom, only big enough to house a whiteboard at the end of the room, a long table right in front of the board, and a few desks in the middle for students. There’s a long window along the other side of the wall, and curtains draped in front of the glass.

You turn to look at him. This place is too suspiciously perfect for private conversations. “What is this place?”

“It’s a space for the Head Boy,” Jimin explains, closing the door behind him. “It kind of doubles as a private study and a place for Yoongi to run detentions. But he lets me come here sometimes when I need more privacy.”

“So not only do you have professors up your ass, but the school’s Head Boy too?” You ask, whirling around to give him a judgmental glance.

“Don’t come in here just to insult me,” Jimin snaps back. “You’re pretty dead set on putting up walls; that doesn’t mean I’m not either. So, not that it’s any of your business, but I’ve been friends with Yoongi for years. No ass kissing in that.”

You stare at him for a moment longer before turning back to look at the room. “You’re right.”

He figures it’s the best apology he’ll get from you.

“Alright,” He says after a moment. He watches the way you turn around to face him. “I’m just gonna put this out here, because we need to get our shit together. I do apologize for kissing you. It was rash and inappropriate. If you want me to step down from the project, I’ll understand.”

You raise an eyebrow at him. “By you understanding, does that mean you would step down?”

Jimin stares at you. “Well, I mean, no, but it would be more of an incentive to talk about this.”

“Of course,” You grumble, running a hand through your head. “Well, you’re in luck. I have no intention in asking you to step down from the project. I might even go as far to say that I think you’re mildly attractive, which is why I didn’t have a problem with you doing that.”

“Well, that’s good to hear. I think you’re vaguely attractive too.”

You nod. “Always reassuring to hear it like that.”

“But see, this is good. We’re getting this out here,” Jimin says, gesturing between the two of you. “I kissed you because of this tension between us, but because it ended abruptly that tension never got any closure. We’re still in this limbo phase.”

You keep your gaze on Jimin. You seem to be pondering his words. Somehow, he’s able to tell that you’re not entirely turned off by his conclusion—probably because you’re still standing close enough to him that your Hogwarts ropes were touching. “You make a good point.”

“Mm, well of course I do,” He says, keeping his gaze on you. “I’m Park Jimin.”

You wrinkle your nose at that. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

He smirks, still looking at you, and shrugs a shoulder. “I should be able to flatter myself a little. I kissed you, didn’t get snapped out by you, so I’d consider it a worthy endeavor.”

“Well, you shouldn’t waste your breath just yet,” You interrupt, voice growing progressively softer given the proximity. “I’m not sure if that should really count as a kiss considering the inappropriate and abrupt nature of it all.”

At that, Jimin turns hot. “I already apologized for that.”

You smile, a mere curl of your lips, as your hands find their place on his shoulders. At the gesture, his hands automatically go to your waist—a natural place, given the memory of the last time you had your hands around his neck. “And how about you ask to kiss me the way a normal person who is attracted to another person would ask—?”

Your voice cuts off when Jimin shoves you even closer to him, bodies pressed against one another. “You really know how to be a brat, don’t you?”

Your smile widens. You lean towards him, nose brushing against his. “I don’t see you asking, Park Jimin—!”

He shuts you up by slamming his lips against yours. Fingers curl around the back of your neck to keep you in place. He kisses you roughly, lips pushing against yours and sucking the air from your lungs. He pulls away moments later, lips still brushing against one another, heavy breathing filling his ears. “For someone claiming I needed permission to kiss you, you definitely know how to keep your mouth shut to help me get what I want.”

You groan. “You really have to have the last word in everything, don’t you?”

“Not true.”

You sigh, digging your nails into the nape of his neck. You kiss him this time, parting your lips right away as Jimin becomes distracted with sliding his tongue into your mouth. His desire for control comes up again, stepping forward and continuing to move with every step backwards you take.

Hitting the teacher’s desk at the front of the room is so unlike the last time. The scrap of the metal against the floor had awoken Jimin from the reality of what could have happened—but now it heightens his senses, leaves his heart racing because he knows what will happen next and he desires nothing more.

Eyes still closed, he uses his hand to leave your waist and feel down the length of your skirt. He confirms that he’s reached the hem by tugging at the end of the fabric. “I hate this thing,” He growls. “You’re always making it sway when you walk, always drawing attention to this damn piece of clothing.”

You smirk against his lips. “I made you look, though…” You trail off, voice pitching into a sigh when Jimin pulls away from your mouth. Immediately, he kisses at your jawline, down your neck. “Jimin—ee!” You squeal as Jimin’s hands go from on top of your skirt to underneath, fingers dancing up your bare thigh. “I thought you were going to fuck me.”

The actual four letter word makes Jimin groan, makes his blood boil, makes his slacks feel a little tighter. “What happened to asking?”

“Oh, because you were so good at that—!” You choke, the breath catching in your throat as you jump at the sensation of Jimin’s fingers pressing against your clothed clit. Your eyes develop a foggy complexion.

“What was that?” Jimin asks, smirking at the dazed look across your features. Seeing you look like this is so different and intriguing, considering the rarity of seeing you off your guard. He wonders how far he can take it, how much he can do to make sure it’s not words of insult that are passing lips.

You press your lips together, shaking your head. The whimper comes back as Jimin starts drawing circles against the bundle of nerves, slow paced but small movements. The fabric of your panties are thin, enough so that he can feel your clit, and enough to come to the realization that you’re—!

“Wet,” Jimin grumbles.

Your cheeks heat at the realization, something you hadn’t even been entirely sure of yourself.

Jimin leans forward to peck your lips once, twice. “It’s hot.” He deepens the kiss, distracting you as his finger curls around the underside of your panties.

You suck in a breath as he runs a finger up and down your slit before sinking a finger into your heat. “Nn—Jimin,” You whisper, moving one of your arms to curl the fingers around his bicep. It’s a shallow thrusting of his finger, more about preparation and feeling than actually trying to make you cum. But the sensation floods your nerves all the same.

“You’re so hot, I can only just imagine what this’ll feel like wrapped around my cock,” Jimin comments hoarsely, pulling his one finger out. The next time he slides in, it’s two fingers and the slight stretch makes your eyes squeeze together.

“J-Jimin,” You choke out. The wet sounds of friction between your legs begins to fill the room. “That feels so good, fuck…”

“Mm, does it now?” Jimin inquires softly. With every upward movement of his fingers into your pussy, the sensation of your walls tightening against his digits goes entirely to his head. It feels like he’s making mental notes of your reactions. You’re a sensitive little thing, and it’s a fact he really wouldn’t mind testing out more. “You still want me to fuck you?”

“Yes, yes, I do, come here,” You urge softly, bringing him forward to kiss you again.

Slowly, his fingers slide out of you, and you whimper at the emptiness he’s leaving you behind with. His hands leave from in between your thighs, traveling out of your skirt and resting at your waist. Without a warning, he hoists you up onto the desk. He moves you back just enough to give you instructions:

“Put your feet on the table for me.”

Legs twitching slightly, you do as you’re told. Your heels rest on the edge of the desk. At the gesture, the hem of your skirt moves downwards, flashing your panties right at Jimin. He has a momentary flashback to that first meeting in the library—your legs spread atop a chair, the skirt casting a shadow between your legs.

Now, he no longer has to wallow in that curiosity. Black panties flash right in his line of sight, and his dick feels even more constrained as he steps forward and reaches out to tuck his fingers underneath the waistband. With a nod from you, he pulls the fabric up and down your legs, and past your shoes. He pockets the material.

You notice the action immediately. “Need a spank bank collection, Park?”

At that, he shrugs, even though both of you know the answer to that. “Depends on how good this is,” He says casually. You and Jimin know this is a lie. He already knows this is going to be good. Above anything, the tent in his pants is a clear giveaway to that. You watch as he pulls his belt from out of the belt loops, tugs the leather off of his waist. He barely brings his pants down, he just reaches in and comes back out with his cock, pretty and leaking at the tip. His thumb brushes at it, spreading the pre-cum across his length.

You whine at the sight, tossing your head back slightly as your legs come out to drag Jimin towards you by the waist. “I’ve seen enough, please fuck me, please—!” You whimper as Jimin pulls your legs off his waist. He brings his arms underneath your legs, bending it at the knees as he inches forward to rest his hands on the table. Untouched, his dick hovers right where you want him the most, and you whine again.

“I’m just preparing, baby,” He explains softly, almost patronizingly, but you don’t seem to mind the tone. “Don’t want to hurt you before I even get the chance to fuck you.”

“You’ll never know until you put—it—in—oh!” You gasp, the tip of Jimin’s dick hovering at your entrance. One of Jimin’s hands moves from underneath your leg to wrap around the base of his cock, running it up and down your folds. He takes one last look at your expression: wide eyes and parted lips, before he looks back down between your legs. He watches as his cock disappears between your folds, immediately enveloping him in your hot, tight walls, a pressure that increases when you clench around him.

Jimin grunts, tilting his head back. “Fuck, you’re tight.”

You’re breathing heavily now. Your arms are resting behind you to keep you level, allowing your fingers to tighten around the edges of the desk. Your toes curl in your shoes. “Jimin—shit.” You jolt slightly when Jimin’s hand moves from the base of his dick to your clit. His thumb rests on the nub, immediately drawing circles against the nerves to relax you through the stretch. You whine, a noise from the back of your throat that makes the blood rush even quicker through Jimin’s body. It fills him with a desire to fill you up, to make you scream.

He continues to push in until he reaches the hilt, the feeling of you around him is so snug and warm that he cannot help his own groan. His finger moves from your clit and curls around the knee of your unoccupied leg. Using his arm to keep your knee bent, his hand travels back to its original position on the desk, allowing both of your legs to be spread apart for him.

Jimin looks up towards you, leaning forward to kiss you. “You still with me?”

You nod. “Yes, fuck, you can fuck me now.”

The permission makes his head spin as he nods. “Fuck, okay.” He begins to pull away until all that’s left inside you is his tip. With a snap of his hips, he drives himself back into you.

The full sensation against your walls lights up your nerves, allowing it to pass through your entire body as your legs twitch and you throw your head back. “Fuck,” You whisper, mostly to yourself as your walls start to tighten and untighten at the sensation.

This, in turn, drives a choke from Jimin’s throat. “Stop clenching around me!”

You level your gaze with Jimin’s once more, but you have a hazy look in your eyes. “Gonna prove to me that you’re a one dump pump or something, Park?”

He stares at you, long and hard. “I’m gonna make you regret saying that.” He pulls out again, all the way to the tip, and thrusts back in sharply. You gasp. But it doesn’t stop this time. He picks a pace, not too fast but he goes deep. The snark in your eyes is gone. The noises in your throat are no longer words but noises instead: whimpers and whines.

The coil starts to tighten in your belly. “J-Jimin,” You wail, using what little strength you have in your arms to push yourself into a straighten sitting position. This brings you closer to Jimin. Without a warning, you wrap your arms around his neck, burying your face into the collar of his robes. It seems like this is to muffle the sounds coming from your throat. “Ngh, Jimin, feels so good, fuck…”

His fingers curl around the edges of the desk as he picks up the pace. Your knees start to twitch above his arms. “You trying to escape me, sweetheart?” He asks right in your ear, breath against your neck. “Look at you. You just have to take what I give you.” That’s true. He’s keeping your legs spread, leaving you unable to escape or move away.

You’re gasping now. “Jimin, I’m gonna come.”

Jimin hums, pulling his hand away from your arm once again and returning his fingers to your clit. When he rubs at you this time, it’s quicker and faster and you clamp up immediately. “Then come.”

“Mmmm,” You sob, arching your back right into his body. For a brief moment, everything is tight, hot, and overwhelming, before the coil snaps and you wither in his arms. One of your own hands slam down onto the desk, as you try to grip onto the smooth surface of the table either to give you a new sense of bearings or pull away from him, he doesn’t know. He doesn’t acknowledge it either, too focused on thrusting into you until he’s finding his own release.

He grunts, pushing into you until he’s at the hilt as he spills himself into you. The blood is no longer in Jimin’s ear, no longer drowning up the sounds of pleasure and desperation. Instead, it fills the air with the sounds: the gasps and heavy breathing. You, halfway lying on the desk. And Jimin, hovering closely over you, still joined together.

“Shit,” You whisper, untangling your other hand from Jimin’s neck and freeing you to lie entirely on the surface of the table. Jimin watches you carefully, gently putting down your legs so they can rest against the table.

“Lift your bottom for me,” Jimin instructs, lifting the hem of your skirt up to bunch the fabric at your waist. With your entire bottom exposed, he’s able to see himself inside you all over again. Slowly, he pulls himself out. You whimper at that. But Jimin doesn’t say anything. He watches, throat dry, as he watches the white substance of his cum spill out of you. He reaches out, collecting it around his finger, before going back up to your slit and pushing his finger into you.

You arch your back at that, crying out softly at the overstimulation. You push yourself to your elbows, watching him sink his finger back into you. “What are you doing?” You ask breathlessly.

“Trying to make as small a mess as possible,” Jimin explains, pushing his finger in as far as it could go. “You wanna go back to the common room with stains over your robes?”

You stare at him, some of that haziness gone and replaced with your usual thoughtful expression. “You make a good point.”

Jimin is able to wipe the rest of the stains on the sleeves of his white polo, something that will be hidden underneath his robes. He watches as you hop off the desk, smoothing down your skirt and down your hair.

You look over at him. “How do I look?”

He gives a careful once-over. “How about this: if I saw you in the hallway, I wouldn’t have assumed you just got fucked.”

The corner of your lips curl up. “Well, that’s probably as good as it’ll get—!”

“Plus I’m sure other people don’t have the same observational skills as I do, so you’re probably fine.”

“There it is.”

“And how was it?” Jimin asks as he opens the door to the classroom and allows you to walk back into the hallway of the castle first. “Do you think we got that closure to the tension?”

“We are talking,” You point out as you walk side-by-side with Jimin. “And you don’t have that look in your eyes anymore.”

He stops at that. “What look?”

You stop alongside him and give him a smirk. “That strained look, like the one you gave me before you kissed me.”

Allowing your eyes to linger on each other for a moment longer, you break that connection by turning your head and continuing down the hallway.

For someone so good at calculating and organizing his life, Park Jimin missed out a whole factor in his equation to success at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

That factor is you.

Now, he’s had his fair share of flings, makeout sessions, and sexual encounters with members of the female population. Of course he has. He isn’t friends with jocks like Jeon Jungkook or pranksters like Jung Hoseok for nothing—he’s been to those parties in the Room of Requirement and has held up his own in conversations with flirtatious qualms. As someone who trumps logic over emotion, it has never been hard for Jimin to set aside his emotions when something is meant to be a one time thing.

But you. You. You. He really hasn’t accounted for you to linger about in his life the way you have. Mostly, he hasn’t accounted to think about your insults, your sighs, and your whimpers the way he actually has.

It’s hard to tell if you’re feeling the same way. When you’re in study labs together for any class such as charms, muggle studies, or astronomy, he could always swear that your gaze would linger on him for moments too long before switching away. When you two are paired up for potions, the conversations are vague and pertain to the lessons, but it all feels layered with something new. A new unspoken desire, perhaps?

He can’t really get a read on the situation, and that’s the most frustrating aspect of it all.

“Park Jimin?” It’s Professor McGonagall’s voice, one that startles Jimin out of his trance. Jung Jaehyun ducks to hide his laughter.

Jimin blinks, looking up to realize that Professor McGonagall is standing right in front of him, a stack of parchment in her arms and a curious look in her eyes. He’s currently in the middle of his transfiguration lesson. The professor raises an eyebrow, but still pulls a parchment from the stack and passes it down to him. A -1 stares him back up at him, and Jimin feels his heart beat. Although this score is for a mere homework assignment, the grade seems like a weight on his shoulders.

“Is that a minus one, Park?” Jaehyun asks, leaning over and getting into Jimin’s space. “On a homework assignment? What happened there?”

Jimin looks over the assignment. “I guess I didn’t add enough detail to one of my answers.” He looks back at Jaehyun, watching Professor McGonagall hand him his graded assignment. The corner of his lips quirk up. “You’re one to talk, Jung. Minus five? You better keep your grades up if you want to stay on the House Team.”

“Hey, you should see JK’s grades,” Jaehyun retorts. “I swear, that boy was hanging by a thread on some of the recent assignments. Did you know he didn’t even realize he had an astronomy essay due for class until that waitress at the Three Broomsticks had to remind him?”

Jimin grins. “That I remember. You’ve done good keeping an eye on your competition.” Almost unconsciously, he finds himself flinting his gaze towards you only to find that you’re staring right back at him.

You raise an eyebrow at him. Just from a look, Jimin knows what you’re asking him. What did you get?

Feeling vaguely embarrassed about his score, he shrugs. Instead of answering, he jerks his chin towards you. What about you?

You seem to know the reason behind his desire to keep his score a secret from you. You smirk, turning over your parchment and flashing it towards him. A -0 reads at the top. “Pretty good, huh?” You mouth to him.

Jimin flicks his wand underneath the desk. A gust of wind comes out and the parchment flies forward to smack you on the face.

A burst of laughter rings through the classroom as Professor McGonagall whirls around. Having not seen the events leading up to the smack, she narrows her eyes at you. “Miss. Y/N, I don’t believe your perfect grade called for a hit to the face.”

You sink into your seat just enough. “Sorry professor,” You grumble, turning to give the side eye to Jimin.

He is wrong to think that you wouldn’t do anything about his little spell.

“You think you’re clever, don’t you?” You ask as soon as you catch up to Jimin after class is dismissed. Ever since the “Tension-Easing Experiment”, as Jimin liked to label it and no it wasn’t something he had run by you since you’re both not really eager to brush on that topic in detail ever since it had happened, you’ve both been pleasant enough to each other. This conversation starter falls under that list. “Casting spells on me, I thought that task belonged to Jung Hoseok.”

“Perhaps I have learned a thing or two from him.”

You hum at that. “Guess there are some things you can’t fully grasp just from reading textbooks all day.”

He glares at you. “Did you need something today?”

You look back at him. “We have our weekly project meet-up.”

He blinks. “What weekly project meet-up?”

“Well, when Professor McGonagall gave us the assignment, we were meeting up once a week to exchange ideas,” You say slowly. “We stopped because…”

Oh right, I kissed you in the astronomy lab room, Jimin thinks when you trail off.

You clear your throat. “But since we’re talking again…”

Because we had sex.

“I figured it was as good a time as ever to get back into it. Besides, I do have an idea I’d figure I should bounce off of you.”

Jimin stares at you for a moment. Takes in your eyes, your lips, your robe and the clothes you’ve gone on underneath the thick material. You’ve got your hair up into a half-up-half-down ponytail today. Dare he say, you look nice today. “Alright then. Should we go to the library?”

“Actually…” You cut in, shrugging and not meeting Jimin’s eye this time around. “I was thinking we could go back to your friend’s private study room? Since we are talking, and it is exam season. You know, I wouldn’t want to disrupt the other students trying to go over their class material.”

This is true. Midterm season at Hogwarts is underway and lots of peers are starting to lose the light in their eyes. There seems to be a hidden weight in your words, plagued with an idea of ulterior motives, but Jimin is suddenly taken by curiosity to mind. “Uh—right. Sure. Pretty sure Yoongi isn’t running a detention today.”

Even if Yoongi had assigned a detention, which he probably did considering this was Min Yoongi, it was unlikely he’d use his private study. In fact, Jimin vaguely recalls Yoongi saying he had a meeting. So he leads the way down the hallways and past the large windows. The pathway is familiar to him, given how many times he’s taken this route, and it’s not long before he’s uttering the password under his breath and entering the space.

It’s empty when he enters. Actually, it’s hard to tell if Yoongi had even used this office during the days between the “Tension-Easing Experiment” and today. Not that it matters, as you and Jimin push two desks together and take a seat. You slide your robe off this time and rest it at the back of your chair.

“Alright, so what’s this idea of yours?”

You lean back in the chair. “It’s brilliant, if you ask me.”

He smirks. “I’ll be the judge of that.”

You smile slightly at that, turning back towards your desk and curling a finger around your hair. “I thought we might as well keep it simple and play to our strengths.” You look at him. “You’re known being this really charming guy, and from what I understand you’re friends with lots of different guys who are talented in their own unique ways. I think we need to split our presentation into two parts. Your section would be talking about growing up at Hogwarts—how you’ve made your group of friends and how you’ve centered yourself in activities and conversations. Then I’ll come in and talk about how despite transferring during the last year of school, everyone and everything is really adjustable and nice about being a new student.”

“Hm.” Jimin ponders this. You’ve figured out a way to take what he had mentioned, albeit jokingly, and organize a way for you to be involved yet still be connected to his original topic. “It’s not bad, you can be smart sometimes when you want to be.”

“I’m always smart—a lot smarter than you, so it seems,” You return back. You angle the chair towards Jimin and sit back. “Speaking of, what happened with your homework assignment today? Didn’t want to show off your own -0? Or perhaps did you get extra credit out of thin air?”

“Ha, ha, very funny,” Jimin snaps. “Contrary to that, I actually got marked off a point. Forgot to add some details to one of my answers, so it was a minor thing.”

“The Park Jimin I know doesn’t forget to add minor details to his answers,” You point out. “What’s up with you? Does Professor McGonagall have to pull you from the project, and leave me as the sole smartest and brightest student at Hogwarts despite only being here for a month and a half?”

“I think your critical thinking skills have to be checked,” He retorts, but it’s a half-hearted attempt to start an argument. You’re much more observant than you let on, if you’ve taken note of his behavior despite not really being his friend. Getting marked off points for minor details is something both of you have been guilty of on rare occasions, so the fact that you still notice something off leaves a strange feeling in his stomach.

Jimin stares at you for a moment longer, only to find you staring back. Should he indulge you on the thoughts floating around in his head? Would it be worth it?

When you raise an eyebrow, it gives him enough courage to open his mouth.

“Actually, I have a hypothetical situation I’d like to go over with you.”

You don’t say anything to that. It’s a sign to keep talking.

“Say you’ve just slept with someone because you thought it would quell that seemingly moment’s sparks of attraction,” He starts. “But it’s been a few days, and you, hypothetically, can’t stop thinking about that moment. As in, you wouldn’t find sleeping with that person again. Do you indulge that curiosity? Or just leave it be, assuming that the person doesn’t feel the same about you?”

Something flickers in your eyes. “Hm, I’m not sure, you’re being so vague it’s really hard to tell who you’re talking about.”

He groans at that. “You’re being a brat again.”

“You must enjoy that, don’t you?” You say back right away. “Otherwise you wouldn’t be thinking about trying to sleep with me again. Unless you ‘quell momentary sparks of attraction’ with other girls on a daily basis.”

“You think you’re so smart, don’t you?” He retorts. “You like to think you have all this control over this situation and my feelings, but who was it that was begging me to fuck them just a few nights ago?”

You laugh a little. “You got a point. But who still fucked me after that begging?”

He’s quiet for a moment. “Do you really want to play that game, sweetheart?”

You keep your gaze on him. “What game am I playing, Park Jimin?”

Jimin looks right back at you. After a moment, he wraps his fingers underneath his chair and angles himself so that he can face you. He reaches forward until his hand rests on your thigh, right above the hem of your skirt. “Well, I have something in mind, if you’re willing to hear it.” When you don’t pull back, he continues. “Since you seem set on this idea that you’re in charge, I think I should prove to you otherwise.”

He watches the way your jaw clenches at that.

“First, I would ask you to slide off your panties and your skirt this time, so there’s nothing in the way of me fucking you this time,” He spells out, keeping his eyes on you for signs of slippage. The slight twitch of your thigh is the first tell. “Then, I’d get behind you, turn you around, and press you against this very desk.” He taps the desk you’re sitting in front of. “Depending on how bratty you decide to be, I’ll find a way to keep you where I want you to be. If you’re still a brat, only one of us will be finishing today—and I will tell you right now that it won’t be you.” He leans forward towards you, your eyes flickering towards his lips. “Just tell me no. Tell me you’re not interested and that you don’t look at me the same way. I’ll back off.”

You swallow thickly at that. “What if I don’t want you to back off?”

Things happen very quickly after the question leaves your lips. You’re the one who leans forward, you’re the one who kisses Jimin first. He responds immediately after, pulling you up by your waist until you’re straddling his lap. Gently biting at your lower lip, Jimin still has enough wit to kick the chair you were sitting on away from the desk. It scraps against the classroom floor, a noise that goes loudly unheard of over the roaring of blood in Jimin’s ears.

Jimin pushes you off his lap, forcing you back onto your feet with Jimin following behind shortly after. You barely have time to adjust before his hands are on your waist to spin you around and pin you onto the desk in front of you.

Jimin tightens his hold on your waist. “Look at you, little girl,” He says. The nickname brings color to your cheeks. “You talk a big game but I think when it comes to it, you like being told what to do.” After he’s gotten you settled into position, his hands leave its original position to reach the zipper of the skirt at the small of your back. “Well, since I’ve riled you up this much, we might as well follow through on one of my check-ins, huh?”

His fingers slowly drag down the zipper of your skirt, each movement downwards rings like a bell. Jimin is so close behind you that you can feel his warmth radiating into your body, your legs. He doesn’t take his time. He pulls down the skirt and your panties until they drop at your ankles.

A finger lingers at your entrance, checking. Jimin makes a noise in the back of his throat. “Looks like me spelling out what I was going to do to you was more effective than I thought.”

You whine, pressing your cheek into the wood of the desk. “You don’t always have to report it like that!”

Jimin stills at that. For a moment, the tense silence makes you think that you’ve said something wrong. But all thoughts fly out of the window when Jimin brings his hand down to slap against the back of your thigh. The gesture isn’t too hard or too loud, but it’s enough to make you whimper. “You trying to out-smart me again?”

“N-No, I’m sorry,” You stammer, probably having a brief flashback to his threat about not letting you finish off.

Still, Jimin scoffs. “You seem to think today will end up just like the first time: where you tell me what to do and I’ll do it—would you agree with me?”

You clench and Jimin feels it with his fingers. “Not intentionally.”

“Hm.” Jimin ponders, both of his hands leaving your frame to tug at the tie around his neck. He loosens it and brings the thin fabric down towards you. “I think we should really establish that I’m the one in charge today. Give me your hands.”

Your neck turns slightly to try and catch his eye. “Jimin—!”

“Hands, c’mon little girl, I thought you could follow directions.” Nevermind that this is probably the first time you’ve said his first name as a standalone and there’s something really intimate about that.

You don’t say anything to that, you merely shift your body weight so you are able to rest your hands on your back. Jimin takes your wrists, bringing them together, and loops the fabric of his tie around them. Tight enough that there’s no way you could escape from it, but loose enough to provide some wiggle room. Once your wrists are secure in the tie, Jimin tugs on it to ensure it won’t undo itself.

“This okay?” Jimin asks, albeit a little softly, but his question brings the ghost of a smile across your lips.

You nod. “Yes.”

“Alright then.” There’s the sound of his belt becoming undone, his fingers pulling his cock out of his pants. He lines himself up, his fingers guiding the way before he’s pushing in. The stretch is a little tighter than it had been the last time due to lack of proper foreplay. But there’s enough to get by.

The stretch makes you feel him all the way in your gut, making your head spin as a groan emits from your throat. Your fingers curl into fists at the small of your back. “Fuck,” You let out between teeth as you shut your eyes, knowing that you just have to take what Jimin is giving you.

Soon, the room fills with the softest grunts and groans, the desk rocking in time with his thrusts. His hands stay on his tie, on your wrists, where your fingers curl around his hand—whether for reassurance or to hold onto something solid, it’s hard to tell.

All that matters is that Jimin notices and his heart races for something other than the physicality of what is going on.

That day in the classroom seems to create a new label in Jimin’s relationship with you. Given that both of you have seen the other person naked (twice), it brings a new level of casualness between the two of you.

It shows in how Jimin slides rather gracefully into the library, rolls of parchment in his bag and a smirk across his features. He finds you rather quickly, right by the window in a secluded part of the space, and has no problem approaching you and slapping the top of his parchment on your desk. It lands right on top of your books and your own roll of parchment.

There’s a pause. “If the ink on my roll wasn’t dry, I will honestly not hesitant to stab your eye out,” You say right away.

“Charming,” Jimin returns, sitting in the vacant chair next to you. “But I just wanted to show you something. We got our grades back for that Defense Against the Dark Arts essay. As you can see, here’s my plus two extra credit score at the top.”

“What?” You react immediately, leaning over your desk to catch a glimpse of the score. “Damn, what the fuck. How’d you get two extra credit points?”

Jimin is grinning. “What’d you get then?”

You give him a side glare. “One point five?”

“Wow.” Jimin places a hand on his heart. “Did I beat you on an assignment?”

Your side glare has evolved into a full glare.. “As classy as that brag was, beating me on one assignment doesn’t reclaim your place as the smartest student at this school.” You brush some of the hair out of your face as you turn in your seat. “But I guess there’s no harm in congratulating you for this one. Do you want a celebratory blow job?”

Jimin’s heart stutters in his chest at the words. He does whiplash at your question. “I-I’m sorry, what?”

You grin. “A little nervous there, Park Jimin?”

“W-Well no, I just…” He trails off, trying to collect his bearings, trying to make sure that he hadn’t misheard you. “I-I think I wasn’t able to catch what you said…”

“No, I think you heard me pretty clearly.” You’re right. He had heard you perfectly. After all, there’s no reason for him to have not heard you clearly. You’re both in the library for goodness sake—not just the library but a quiet section of the library. “I just figured you want some sort of congratulatory gesture on my part, since we have a little competition going on between the two of us. You scored better today, so I’ll blow you.” You pause for a moment. “Unless you don’t want me to blow you, and you asking questions like this is just you trying to deflect…”

“No! I mean…” He sets his teeth when your grin widens. “Shut up, you’re so annoying.”

“You’re not saying no,” You point out.

“Of course I’m not. Get your stuff, we’re going.” He grabs your wrist as soon as you’ve packed up your school supplies, and he doesn’t let go.

Your laughter echoes all the way down the hallway.

It continues like this. In terms of your social relationship with Jimin, it turns into a rivalry boosted by sexual encounters. Depending on who scored better on tests, essays, or homework would get to lead the sex in the empty Head Boy classroom near the abandoned corners of the castle. The atmosphere between you two, while still plagued with banter, has turned into something more light-hearted and conversations have lower defenses.

That’s what one gets after seeing the other person naked for weeks on end.

The improvement in your relationship leads to more open conversations about the project, something that Professor McGonagall has noticed an improvement in.

She says this after calling you and Jimin in for a meeting. It’s the beginning of November now, and the weather has cooled down and the sky reflects the bleeker tone in its dark shades of gray. You and Jimin have been in this strange relationship for about a month and a half now, and you didn’t think there would be any physical changes, until the professor opens her mouth.

“I have to say, Ms. Y/N and Mr. Park, that I’ve noticed you two taking more enjoyment in each other’s company. It’s rather refreshing to look at, considering the way you guys used to always be at each other’s throats beforehand.”

“Definitely agree, in more ways than one,” Jimin says, and you kick him under the table.

The meeting with the professor is short. It’s more of a touching base encounter if anything, where you’re explaining the details of your presentation and continue going more into detail about what each of you will be covering. It ends soon after, with a parting ‘just keep going with what you’re doing’ before both of you are dismissed from the office.

“That went well,” You report as you’re exiting the office together. It’s the middle of the afternoon on a considerably bright Thursday morning, so the castle is a little more alive today with activity. Most students are outside, taking advantage of the sunny weather to sit around in the courtyard or have a picnic or study session with friends on the grass. These are the options that are available to you and Jimin, considering your classes are done for the day and you have nothing else scheduled. Except to study and keep working on essays and study guides.

“I’m glad it’s going well for her, at the very least,” Jimin grunts, rolling his shoulder as he tilts his neck back. “So what are your plans for the rest of the day?”

You shrug. “Not sure.” You narrow your eyes at him. He never really asks you this question unless—“Do we have a meeting in Yoongi’s office?”

‘Meeting in Yoongi’s office’ is the key phrase the pair of you coined to replace the much more lewd question: “Did you want to fuck?” Not only is the former much safer, but it keeps away those unsafe, unwanted, dangerous questions. All of which are things that neither of you want to answer. Neither of you would probably know the answer to them anyways.

Normally, Jimin isn’t shameless about what he wants. When he’s straightforward, he’s eager and demanding and doesn’t like to beat around the bush. You’ve walked out of that classroom with bruises on your neck and a wobble in your knees to prove that. This time, however, feels different. He smirks. “Sweetheart, we had a meeting yesterday.” Translation: we fucked yesterday.

You raise an eyebrow, not acknowledging the nickname. It’s normal in your conversations together, anyways. “When has that ever stopped you before?”

“Touche.” He pauses, and runs a hand through his hair. “But we shouldn’t today. I have an essay for our History of Magic class that I haven’t started.”

“Isn’t that due tomorrow?”

“Yeah, I’m aware of that,” Jimin protests. “Listen, I’ve been helping JK with that waitress.”

You bite your lip, vaguely aware of the aforementioned Jungkook and that waitress from the Three Broomsticks. Jimin refuses to spill any details to you. “How’s that going?”

He adjusts the strap of his bag. “She showed up to his Quidditch practice yesterday, which was a plus.”

“Not entirely a plus, it seems. You have a whole ass essay to work on. At this point, it seems like I’ll be in charge of the agenda for the upcoming meeting.” The quirk at the corner of your lips grows slightly.

Jimin smirks, reaching over to tap your nose. “Don’t get cocky, sweetheart.”

You try to ignore the gesture. He’s been getting more handsy with you, ever since he pinned you down on the desk and tied your hands at your back. You look away from him. “Well, regarding what my plans are,” You start. “I should get started on the upcoming Transfiguration report.”

He nods. “Seems like we’re both in for rough afternoons.” He pauses. He runs a hand through his hair, a gesture he only does when he’s pondering something. “How about we suffer together?”

You blink, having not expected that question from him. You did spend a lot of time together, provided all the hours that go into planning the big project and ‘attending Yoongi’s meetings’, as Jimin liked to say, but studying with each other was never on that list. “Do you mean, like, we study together?”

“Hey, if it was such a stupid idea then you should have stopped me immediately,” Jimin retorts, turning red with embarrassment.

“I didn’t say it was a stupid idea!” You say back, eyes wide. “I don’t mind us studying together.”

“Well, that’s really great because I—!” Jimin cuts himself off, clearly not having processed your last sentence before opening his mouth. He looks at you, as it sinks in that you’ve accepted his offer to study together. “Alright, okay, cool. You wanna go to the library?”

You laugh. “Sure, but I gotta ask something. How could I even stop you, since I didn’t know you were trying to ask me on a date?”

He surprises you with a step forward, as he wraps an arm around you and pinches your waist. “I’m not asking you on a date. You’re annoying.”

“And what of it?” You shoot back. You aren’t really expecting an answer, and Jimin doesn’t give you one. Yet, there’s no awkward pause because of it. It’s still just you and Jimin, and it stays that way as you both walk to the library and maintain a casual conversation about your assignments and outside activities.

It’s the middle of December when you scribble on the final flashcard and practically slam your quill onto the table. Jimin jumps slightly, but his startled expression eases into a slight smile when you hunch over and press your head into the desk. “Finished?”

“Finished,” You repeat, lifting your head back up and looking at the array of notes and organized flashcards that are scattered across the table. Each flashcard is covered from top to bottom in your handwriting, all meant to help guide your speech for the project you have spent months agonizing over. No stone is left unturned, every single aspect of your experience is covered upon, per the request of Professor McGonagall.

Immediately, you move to collect your flashcards and ensure that they are in the proper order. The little numbers you have written in the top of the parchment help with that.

There’s another silence that overtakes the air, but it’s a comfortable one. It’s filled with the scratches of Jimin’s quill against his own parchment, it’s filled with the crumbling sound of papers stacking atop one another as you organize your flashcards. Once they’re all together, you look at the top piece of parchment. “Even with a late enrollment that brings you to Hogwarts in your last year, the welcoming environment makes the transition to different classes, social groups, and activities extremely easy and exciting…” You read quietly to yourself.

After a few minutes, Jimin puts his own quill down. It’s much gentler than what you had done a few seconds ago, but it’s still more than enough to fix your attention on him.

“Finished?” You ask him.

He nods, before sighing and running a hand through his hair. The locks are slightly overgrown by now, which leaves his hair in strands that stick up all over the place.

“Is it perfect?” You ask.

Jimin tilts his head back. Your eyes linger on the column of his throat before returning back to your notes. “Honestly, we’ve gone through so much editing and revisions that I would just throw myself off the astronomy tower if it wasn’t perfect.”

You laugh slightly. “That’s true…”

“You look nervous,” Jimin notes, placing his elbow on the table and resting his head in the palm. “Worried about impressing daddy at the Ministry?”

You close your eyes and let out a huff. “Why do you have to say it like that?”

“Am I wrong?”

You sigh. “I mean technically you’re not.”

He feigns an over dramatic gasp that earns him the attention of some other students littered around the library. “So I was right this whole time! What the fuck!”

“Jimin, keep your voice down,” You hiss. “Why don’t you ask that Namjoon friend of yours to publish a whole article about it while you’re at it?”

“You know, that’s actually not a bad idea—OW!” Jimin jumps when you suddenly reach over to pinch his thigh. He flashes a guilty look to the other students around him who shoot glares that could kill. After a moment of apologetic expressions and mouthing ‘sorry’ to anyone who would listen, he turns back to you. “You’re really going to get it tonight.”

“During our meeting with Yoongi, you mean?” You ask back, giggling into your palm.

He shakes his head and goes back to his flashcards. “You better watch yourself, sweetheart.” He pauses for a second, watching you out of the corner of his eye before he resumes his attention back on you. “So what does your dad do at the Ministry?”

You look at him, thinking about how you’re going to answer for a second before you sigh. It’s probably because Jimin actually addressed your father as ‘your dad’ as opposed to ‘daddy’. “He works in the Department of Magical Education. That’s why he asked that I be a part of the presentation group. It helped that I was one of the top students at my old school.”

Jimin is quiet for a moment.

It’s long enough for you to kick him underneath the table. “Why ask me if you’re not going to ask anything?”

He looks away. “It’s not that—I guess I wasn’t expecting you to actually tell me.”

“Oh.” You stop, turning red. “W-Well,” You continue, staring holes into the table in front of you. “I-I guess we’re f-friends?”

Jimin smirks. “Friends, huh?”

“Don’t make me regret saying that!”

“Hm.” Jimin hums. “So, your dad works in the Magical Education Department. Is that why you transferred to Hogwarts?”

“You could say that…”

He whines your name, scooting closer to you to wrap his arms around you. “Hey, you can give me a straight answer. I thought we were friends.”

You make a noise of protest in the back of your throat, nevermind the way he’s so natural about his physical touches with you. “Fine, fine, yes, his new job is the reason why we transferred. Now let go of me, you’re going to get us kicked out of here!”

“Let Madam Pince kick us out, we’re basically done with our project anyways.” But he does let go of you, the finality of your words probably that pusher. He does not, however, move away from you. He keeps an arm curled around the back of your chair. “You going home for Christmas break?”

“Yeah,” You say, not saying anything about his still close proximity. “I do miss my parents—plus I’m sure my father would want to hear about how the presentation will go.”

He nods. “Sounds like it’ll be a stressful Christmas.”

You look at him. “What will you be up to, Park Jimin? Sneaking through the restricted section?”

He pouts. “I don’t need to sneak through it—I’m not a first-year. I can actually get a note from a professor. Dark Arts is cool to read about.”

“If you say so,” You tease back. “Anything else?”

“Well, there’s actually a party I’m throwing with my friends to celebrate making it up to this point. It’ll be in the Room of Requirements.” He ponders the next thought for a moment. “You should come.”

You blink. “I’m going home for the holidays?”

“No, you dork.” Jimin flicks your forehead. “The party will be before the holiday break starts—so everyone who wants to go can enjoy one fun thing before going back home.”

You tilt your head. “That sounds exciting. But, well, I’m not a huge drinker. It should be fun for you, though.”

He pouts again. “What if I wanted you to come? What do I have to do to convince you?”

You give him a look. “Nothing, Park Jimin, I’m not a party person.”

“You really are,” Jimin agrees, sliding away, looking disappointed in your answer. “I hope you’ll be able to sleep tonight knowing you just crushed all my dreams.”

You roll your eyes. “You’re so dramatic, Park Jimin. What’s this about?”

He shrugs. “I thought it’d be cool to see you do something fun for once in your life.”

“Wow, he’s dramatic and rude,” You say, watching as he smiles a little at your usage of his pronoun despite the fact that he is right here in front of you.

“Well, I guess I just have to accept your answer,” Jimin says after a moment, leaning back in his chair. “You’ll be missing out. I think Hoseok is pulling out all the stops. Alcoholic butterbeer galore.”

“And I’m sure you’ll tell me all about it, no matter if I want to hear it or not,” You return, looking at your water. “Oh shit, I gotta go.”

Jimin watches you collect your parchment and books, and the way you stuff them into your bag. “Where are you going?”

You look at him, blinking. “Uh—Actually, I don’t think I should tell you.”

He pouts, again. “What? Why not?” His curiosity only grows when you just give him a meek smile, and turn to rush out of the library. He calls your name. “Shit, hold on!” He doesn’t bother to organize anything, he just throws everything into his bag before he’s dashing to catch up to you. He also doesn’t bother to check around him before he’s throwing his arms out to encircle you around the waist.

“Jimin!” You exclaim, both of you slowing to a time. “You’re needy today.”

“Where are you going?” He tightens his hold. “I took some workout advice from Jungkook, I won’t hesitate.”

You still at that. “What the fuck? Are you implying that you’ll crush me otherwise?”

“Don’t change the subject!”

You sigh, reaching into the pocket of your robe. “I may or may not have gotten an offer to get extra credit from Professor Flitwick for Charms.”

He pauses. “Aren’t you and I having a bet about who can get the higher grade in that class?”

“Uh, perhaps?” Suddenly, you bend your wrist slightly to poke your wand in his stomach. “Rictusempra.”

A silver light beams from the end of your wand, and Jimin bursts out into laughter. He releases his hold on you immediately, falling to his knees as the giggling that escapes his lips fills the air and takes the energy out of his knees. “A—giggling—charm?” He manages in between breaths.

You whirl around to face him, twirling your wand. “Sorry Park. I saw an opportunity and I took it. Hopefully one of your friends can help you—preferably after I’ve made my way down this hallway.” You turn back towards your original direction and actually run away from him.

Jung Hoseok is eventually the one to find Jimin on the floor, laughing, crowded by students who were intrigued to see the great Park Jimin at his wits end. Although those same students help him onto his feet, there’s still the mark of amusement in their eyes, and Jimin’s cheek heat nonetheless.

The next time he sees you, he’ll get you back for this.

Jimin’s party is the night before the winter holiday begins. All the classes are done, all the essays and tests are submitted. The snow has become a permanent decoration to the school, all compact white blanketing the grass and exterior castle walls. The chill has settled more deeply in the air, bringing up the heavy scarfs and heavier coats. Breaths come out in puffs of air. And you are near the fireplace.

Actually, more specifically, you are finishing up a last minute extra credit report for Astronomy. Not that your grades need the extra boost—Professor Sinistra had offered to provide you with the assignment that allowed you to indulge a little deeper in star placement and you weren’t going to waste away that chance. It’s due tomorrow morning, right before you take the train back home, so you are wasting away, scribbling all the research that you can recall onto the parchment.

You’re finishing up your conclusion paragraph when you hear the door to the common room slide open, announcing the presence of a student. You don’t pay attention to this. Judging by the darkness clouding the sky, it’s getting late and you assume that the students who had gone to Jimin’s party should be heading back by now. When it gets too late, even though classes and henceforth school are paused, there are still certain punishments on the line.

You don’t pay much attention to the student, until you notice that figure now standing right in front of your table near the fireplace. You look up. It’s Jung Jaehyun—Seeker for the Slytherin team. And, as you are aware of, an attendee to Jimin’s party.

The thing is, however, that you and Jaehyun have interacted a grand total of exactly zero times. Neither of you ran in the same social circle—if the friend you’ve made that spends more time in the greenhouse than in class could be considered a social circle.

Jaehyun looks just as uneasy as you do, with the way he’s shifting back and forth on his feet. “Y-You’re Y/N, right?”

You straighten slightly. That is, obviously the first time Jaehyun has ever said your name. “Y-Yes. And you’re Jaehyun?”

“Yeah…” Jaehyun starts, scratching the back of his neck. “Listen, I know this is totally out of line for me. But would it be too much if I asked you to come with me to the Room of Requirement?”

“Uh…” You trail off. You hadn’t been expecting much upon seeing Jung Jaehyun standing right in front of you. But you really hadn’t been expecting this. “Is… there a reason why…?”

“Well…” Jaehyun tries again, but trails off. He seems to be having trouble figuring out how to explain his story. “I think you know that Jimin and his friends were having a party down there, right?”

You keep staring at Jaehyun. “Did something happen to Jimin?”

“N-No, not really, it’s just, he drank a bit and he’s refusing to leave until he sees someone…”

You press your lips together, having a vague idea of where this could be going but refusing to make assumptions. “Was I that someone?”

“Well, okay, he didn’t mention a specific name. He just kept saying he wanted to see his girlfriend before he left…”

“Okay, then why don’t you take his girlfriend down there?”

Jaehyun looks pained for a second. “Jimin doesn’t have a girlfriend. His friends and I were trying to figure it out. You’re the only person he spends all this time with besides his core group. We figured asking you to come down would be a good place to start.”

You swallow at the thought. You’ve never really set foot into Jimin’s world, it wasn’t really your scene. Even back at Ilvermorny, you were well known because of your grades, but you weren’t a popular student. But more than that, Park Jimin calling you his girlfriend? The thought seemed highly unlikely. You aren’t even sure that he feels that deeply for you—rather, your relationship was formed as a byproduct of forced participation. Without that presentation to the Ministry, you’re sure you would never have had a proper conversation with Jimin.

Still, Jaehyun looks like he’s about to fling himself off the Astronomy tower. The more time goes by, the higher the chances of Jimin and the rest of his friends getting caught and getting saddled with detention. You figure: what’s the harm?

“W-Well, uh, sure.” You straighten up, placing your items into your bag and taking a second to drop that bag off on your dorm bed. Jaehyun is still in the common room when you get down, and leads the way to the Room of Requirement. The walk there is another maze of walls and windows and firelit pathways.

But instead of the Room of Requirement entrance you see, you notice a group of boys lingering outside the blank wall Jaehyun had told you let to the party. For a moment, you wonder if the group were attendees of the party. But the closer you get, and the more you start to hear voices that sound vaguely familiar saying names that sound even more so, you realize that this group is The group—Jimin’s group.

“Taehyung!” Jaehyun calls as soon as the two of you are in hearing range.

The boy, you assume is Taehyung, looks up towards the source of the noise. His eyes land on you and he visibly looks relieved. “Hey, you must be Y/N.” He nods towards you, and tilts his head towards the boy leaning heavily against him. “Hey Jimin.” He calls for the boy, but he looks unsure. Probably because he too isn’t sure if you’re who Jimin is describing as his girlfriend. “Uh, we brought your girlfriend?”

It sounds more like a question than an actual statement. But Jimin doesn’t seem to notice. He lifts his head up from Taehyung’s shoulder and locks his gaze onto you. At once, his eyes turn into half moons with how brightly he is smiling at you. It’s like the sun has come out, with the light glimmering in his eyes and his cheeks rounding out. He calls out your name. “Baby, you showed up!” He cries, managing to untangle himself from Taehyung and latch immediately onto you. You might have stumbled, had Jaehyun not helped catch some of Jimin’s weight. “I thought you weren’t coming!”

“Uh…” You trail off, mind going haywire. How could it not? Jimin, someone who is definitely not your boyfriend, is calling you his girlfriend, calling you baby, and hugging you like his life depends on it. The two of you just have sex! Under unestablished rules, sure, but that type of situation calls for an actual discussion beforehand. “Well, your friends said you wouldn’t leave the party unless I showed up. Why don’t we all head back to our Houses, before we all get detention?”

Jimin nods, cheek against your cheek. “That sounds good. Look at my Y/N—so smart and wonderful.”

“Y/N… didn’t he want to rip her neck off at the beginning of the year?” One of the boys whispers. You, of course, hear it, because Jimin’s friends lack indoor voices and it shows. “And now he’s admitting that she’s smart? What the fuck?”

“Shut up, Hoseok.”

Another boy turns to you, an appreciative smile on his lips. It’s Min Yoongi—Head Boy, and fellow Slytherin. “Just ignore Hoseok. And I’m sorry this is how we’re meeting you—from what Jimin says you’re super smart and it drives him crazy, so naturally I’m your biggest fan. I’m Yoongi.”

You nod, trying for a smile. “I know. I would shake your hand, but…”

“You’ve got a Jimin attached to you, I got it.” Yoongi waves his hand dismissively, whirling around to face his group. “Alright, you bitches. You better be in your Houses before I finish my first round of the castle otherwise you’re all getting detention.” There’s a momentary wave of protests before Yoongi interrupts it. “Or I don’t have to do a round and can just give you all detention right now…”

“No, no, okay, we’re going.” It’s the boy who had called Hoseok out, telling him to shut up. He winks at you as he brushes past you, and flashes some finger guns at Jaehyun.

“Fuck you too, JK,” Jaehyun returns, before leveling you with a gaze. “We should get going, huh?”

“Yeah,” You manage, adjusting Jimin on your shoulder before you and Jaehyun practically drag Jimin down to the Slytherin common room. As soon as you enter, you dump Jimin onto the couch, where he slumps backwards and remains unmoving. He laughs, eyes wide as they gaze up at you.

He brings his arms up, bringing his fingers together in a grabby motion. “Y/N, come sit with me.”

Jaehyun coughs, running a hand through his hair. “I’ll, uh, leave the two of you alone. Thanks for coming out with me, you really saved us.”

You nod. “No problem, although it seemed like Yoongi could have handled it.”

“Nah, that punk is a Head Boy through and through. Loves his friends to death, but wouldn’t hesitate to give detention. Anyways, I’m off to bed. It was nice to meet you.”

You smile. “You too.” You watch Jaehyun and he disappears up the stairs, into the boys room.

A tug on the hem of your skirt pulls you back. Jimin is still gazing up at you. “Come here!” He pouts, pulling a little too hard and sending you stumbling forward right onto him. Your legs end up on either side of him, effectively straddling his waist. His arms curl around your body. “Isn’t this better? This reminds me where we were just a few weeks ago—!”

“Jimin,” You cut in, flushing at the thought of aforementioned few weeks ago. “What are you doing?”

He blinks, the haziness from his drinking still glimmering in his eyes. “I’m just hugging you.”

“No, Jimin.” Your hands find a place on his shoulders. “What are you doing? I’m not your girlfriend, so why would you say that down there in front of your friends?”

“Wait, you’re not my girlfriend?” He’s still looking like a deer in the headlights. “But… I really like you, so I thought that something was going on…” He looks lost.

A lot is pinging through your head—did Jimin just confess to you? “Jimin, you like me?”

He nods. “I do, I really do.” His nod is lagging, it’s a little slow as he probably doesn’t want to make himself sick with movement too fast. “You’re so funny. And smart. And mean. But I like it. It’s not too mean, but mean enough to make me laugh.”

You laugh a little. “You’re drunk, Jimin, you don’t know what you’re saying. You would never admit that I’m smart.”

He sighs, tilting his head back until it rests on the back of the couch. “I would never say it out loud, but that doesn’t mean it’s not true. Fuck, my head hurts…”

“You should get some sleep,” You say, instead of trying to push the topic further. “Do you need help getting into the boys dorm room?”

“I don’t think I can make it up there,” He retorts softly. “I might have to crash down here.” He gazes up at you. “Will you stay down here with me?”

You waver slightly, lots of questions running through your mind. If you slept down here with Jimin, surely someone would wake up and catch the two of you. Rumors would fly, questions would be asked.

Still, Jimin looks so cozy and vulnerable—an absolute rarity. And who knows, perhaps if things don’t go the way you want them to, you could use this moment against him. A reminder of when the great Park Jimin, a rock of stubbornness and arrogance, looked at you like you were the stars.

So you sigh. “Sure, I’ll stay down here with you.”

You don’t need to tell anyone that the smile flashing across his face makes your answer worth it.

You awake rather abruptly to the movement that happens next to you. Every muscle in your body is aching, so completely sore from the position you’ve rolled into. You open your eyes to a collarbone, a flash of the Slytherin green tie. You blink sleepily, disorientated, as your gaze slides up—!

To see Jimin staring down at you.

You jump slightly. “Shit, sorry.”

“No worries.” Jimin groans, stretching. Or, trying to stretch. The couch you’re both on top of offers very little space for movement. It also explains your sore neck. “Ugh, fuck.”

You sit up, rolling your neck and hearing the satisfying crack of bones. “How are you feeling?”

“Gross,” He answers, sitting up as well. You’re sitting between his legs, the close proximity allowing you to see the tiredness in his eyes. That isn’t surprising. The sun has barely started to rise over the mountains. Given that the sky is a very vague shade of orange, you can only assume it’s five or six o’clock in the morning.

You look up at him. “You hungover too?”

He presses fingers to his temple. “A little headache, but it’s not too bad.” He lowers his hand, and looks over at you. “I wasn’t that drunk, Y/N, I do remember what happened last night. Maybe I was a little more transparent than normal, but…”

You raise an eyebrow, egging him on. “But?”

He stares at you for a moment longer, before he laughs a little, tilting his head backwards. “Aw, Y/N, don’t make me say it!”

You can’t help but smile back. “No, I think I want you to say it. Otherwise I’ll think you’re pulling my leg.”

He lifts his head towards you, pouting. “I would never pull your leg.”

“Then say it,” You say leaning towards him.

As soon as you’re close enough, Jimin’s hand comes up to trap your chin in between his thumb and index finger. The gesture is done to keep you close, to keep your eyes fixated on his, all so he can gauge your expression. He seems to be debating on how truthful he wants to be for this. “But… I wasn’t lying when I said that I liked you.” His eyes flicker between your own. “Even though you’re annoying all of the time.”

You can’t help it. You start to laugh. “Takes one to know one, huh?”

He brings you forward, shifting your center of gravity and bringing you forward towards him. You gasp as your hands come out to rest on the arms of the couch, on either side of Jimin. The gesture, however, brings you closer to him, so that your lips are hovering right over one another. “You’re being a brat again. Shut up.”

You quirk an eyebrow, although he’s too close to see it properly. “Make me, Park Jimin.”

He groans. “Don’t say that. I’m too gross to fuck you right now. And aren’t you going back home today after you submit that report to Professor Sinistra?”

You smile a little, touched that he remembers your report. “I finished the report. And…” You trail off, pulling back enough to look at your watch. You were right: the current time reads 6:15AM. “There’s still five hours before the train leaves…”

Jimin looks up at you. “I’ve got an idea. You have to be quiet though.”

You raise an eyebrow. “I didn’t know you were into voyeurism, Park, but if that’s what you want…” You start to unbutton the polo of your shirt.

Jimin’s eyes widen. “H-Hey, stop, I didn’t mean here! Button that back up!”

You gaze over at him, two buttons on your blouse undone, more than enough to expose your collarbone. “What’s wrong?”

“Why do I like you so much, you’re nothing but a brat,” Jimin grunts, mostly to himself as he reaches out to button back your shirt. “I meant somewhere else. You have to be quiet on the way to the place, you idiot. Come on.”

He takes your head, lacing the fingers together, and making your heart jump in your throat as Jimin guides the pair of you out of the Slytherin common room and up the stairs. Making your way up to the fifth floor, he turns into a corridor with statues along the wall. He finally stops at one, the statue you recognize to be Boris the Bewildered.

“Pine Fresh,” Jimin whispers to the statue, which moves to the side and allows Jimin to drag both you and himself into the hidden room. At the detection of movement, the candlelights along the walls light up which further heightens the place Jimin has just taken you into.

It’s a large bathroom. The first thing you notice are the stained glass windows that surround the entirety of the room. Each window paints a different picture of mermaids across the surface, all of which are moving around the space much like every other piece of artwork in this castle. Some of them wave to the pair of you, but most of them continue to mind their own business of looking out the window and enjoying the view of the mountains surrounding Hogwarts.

The moving pictures of mermaids, however, isn’t where your attention has fallen. Your eyes flicker all over the place, trying to take in more of this place Jimin has taken you to.

Located on the left side of the room is a row of squeaky clean, polished and shiny toilets in stalls with a row of sinks, mirrors, and makeup counters on the other side. Located on the right side of the room is a lounging area, couches and cushions in the space and a row of bathrobes along the wall.

The middle of the room houses the main attraction of the space—it’s a large bathtub, as big as a swimming pool with how wide and deeply the hole has been cut into the ground. The tapping for the bath surrounds the tub, each tap with a different colored jewel atop the metal piping. Along the edge of the tub are different baskets, each basket holding a different shaped container and bath product.

“Shampoo, conditioner, soaps, bath oils, and bath salts,” Jimin explains, seeming to notice your lingering gaze upon the baskets.

“Cool, uh…” You pause, trying to gather your thoughts properly enough to ask the biggest question of them all. “What is this place?”

“Oh! Right.” He gestures to the entire room. “Welcome to the Prefects’ Bathroom.”

You turn your gaze towards him, eyes wide. “The Prefects’ Bathroom? Shouldn’t we not be here then?” You’ve heard of this place before back at Ilvermorny. It’s considered a secret location that only Head Boys, Head Girls, Prefects, and Quidditich captains. Definitely not a place for you or Jimin to be in.

He grins, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. “Relax, baby. I got the password from Yoongi. And it’s six in the morning on the first day of winter holiday. I doubt any of the people allowed in there wouldn’t think to come in right now.”

You exhale, unable to ignore the quickening of your heart race. It was one thing to fool around in Yoongi’s private study. But being in this type of place that increased the chances of getting caught makes you nervous.

Jimin can see that, because he steps closer to you and rests a hand on your waist. “Hey,” He says, not speaking again until you’re looking up at him. “It’s okay. I don’t want to suggest anything that’ll make you uncomfortable. I just thought of this place because it’s, for the most part, secluded and unused. We’re both tired and groggy, so I thought we could use the bath.”

You take in a breath, before making your decision and wrapping your arms around his neck. “Alright, I’ll decide to trust you on this. So what’s your plan, Park Jimin? What are you gonna do to me?”

He laughs at that, leaning forward to press his forehead against yours. “Well, sweetheart, we can go about this in two ways. Number one: we’ll go right on that couch and we’ll have a celebratory fuck on some actual cushions for once. Then, after that, we’ll take a bath. Or number two: we skip the fuck and take the bath instead.”

You feign a gasp. “You would skip a fuck for me?”

He mirrors your gasp. “Of course. That’s what you get for making me fall for you.”

“Charming,” You say with a smile. “Lucky for us, I like you too. In fact, I like you so much, I can feel your boner against my leg so I’ll even have sex with you just for that.”

His smile widens. He sighs dreamily, which makes you laugh. “Wow, are you the girl of my dreams or something?”

“Hm, what happened to trying to skip my neck off?”

“You really know how to keep up a mood,” Jimin mumbles. “I’m just gonna kiss you before you ruin this any further for us.” So he does, covering his lips with yours.

There’s something different about this kiss. Normally, with your escapees or ‘meetings with Yoongi’, the kisses you share are frantic and haphazard and not really the main purpose of your interaction. The kisses are short-lived and bruising. But this kiss is different. It’s softer and slow-paced enough that it allows for exploration. It’s a kiss where your fingers gently brush over Jimin’s collarbone, where his own fingers settle at your jawline in order to trace over your cheeks and your neck. The sensation as light as it is makes your head spin.

You aren’t even aware the pair of you are moving throughout the room until you feel Jimin hit something in front of you, and behind him. The back of his knees hit one of the cushions on the right side of the room, and he falls back. You fall on top of him, straddling him. It’s a similar position to where you were less than a day ago, but the intent is different. You hardly register any potential pain or jolts. Jimin just brings you back to kissing him, fingers moving down to curl around your waist instead.

Only when it feels like it takes too much energy to kiss and breathe properly at the same time does Jimin pull away to dust kisses along your cheek, before moving down to kiss along your jawline, down your neck. Your tilt your head back, eyes closed as you let out a breathy sigh. Your hips start to move of its own accord, grinding down on the already stiff junction between his legs.

Jimin groans at that, tightening his hold on your waist and guiding you to move deeper and faster. The bathroom fills with the noises escaping between your lips and the rustle of clothing.

You and Jimin seem set on fixing that problem right away. Being in this position on a couch is so much more different than sex in a classroom on top of tables and chairs. It brings a comfort neither of you have experienced before. With that comfort comes this desire to just go all the way, to feel skin beneath fingertips. It happens too. First the sweater vests go, then the ties and the shirts.

Jimin goes quiet at the sight of your chest, hands encircling your breast and thumb running over the nipple. His mouth replaces his hand, circling the nip with his tongue. The warmth of it brings chills that hit every nerve in your body. You arch your back, as Jimin’s hands at your waist keep you rooted to the spot.

You start to claw at the waistband of his slacks, one thought pinging through your mind—and that was to see this through to the end. “J-Jimin,” You whine, already filling to wet and foggy. Jimin pays you no attention, merely switching to your other breast to wrap your nipple in his mouth. You whimper, grinding a little faster. Your fingers make their way up to his hair, curling the digits around his locks. You pull him away just enough for him to look up and make eye contact with you, but not enough. His mouth is still around your nipple.

He hums, and the vibration sends through your body.

He pulls away from you. “What is it?”

You look down at him, pouting and whining.

He cups your face with one of his hands. “You have to use your words, baby.”

You let out a sigh to calm your nerves. “N-Nothing,” You manage. “I just, I really want you right now. And I’m glad you like me too.”

Jimin quirks the corner of his lips, before his fingers are curling under the waistband of your skirt. “C’mon, let’s get you out of this.”

A few tugs and shift adjustments later, you’re both naked atop the cushions. Hands are running over skin, and Jimin’s hands remain at your sides to lift you up just enough until you’re hovering over his cock—long and hard.

At this, Jimin brings your upper body closer until your ear is hovering near his lips. He kisses below, a spot that makes the shiver travel up your spine, before he goes back to hovering at your lobe. “You wanna show me how good you take dick?”

You nod, brain still fuzzy as Jimin starts kissing down your neck again. It’s a very distracting sensation, the feeling of his pillowy lips against your skin. Your toes curl on the couch when his cock hovers right above your slit, right where you want him.

With the guidance of Jimin’s hands, he starts to push you down, the stretching sensation forcing a sigh past your lips. Even though you and Jimin have had sex for awhile—even the most recent ‘meeting with Yoongi’ had occured a week ago—something about this feels different. There’s a deep rooted passion in his kisses, in the bites he’s littering across his neck. Almost as if Jimin had been holding back for that month and a half of casual sex, and now has let his full love and admiration of you loose.

Every inch of Jimin inside of you is another euphoric wave that washes over you. You had thought today wouldn’t be too different from previous encounters, but the shaking of your knees tells you otherwise. “J-Jimin—!” You whine. “Fffuck…”

“Look at you go,” He praises, eyes fixed on your spot of connection until you’re filled to the hilt. You feel so impossibly full. “Made just for me.”

He waits for you. He waits until you stop clenching around him, until you relax. Only then does he hold onto your waist again and slowly start bouncing you on his cock. Your grip around his shoulders start to tighten as the friction makes your head spin. You let yourself be led, breathy moans turn to gasps. “Nn, fuck, feels so good…”

He feels you start to randomly clench around him again. Having spent so many late evenings and early afternoons with you, he knows your signs perfectly. You’re close.

He finishes you off with a thumb at your clit, circling at the bundle of nerves just right until your gasps turn into cries and you’re spazzing around his cock. The sensation is tight and warm, and Jimin chokes as his fingers dig into your skin to keep him grounded as he spills up into you.

The blood-rushing physicality of what had just happened starts to settle in, leaving the two of you against the couch with mismatched breaths and his dick still inside of you. “Oh shit…” He whines. “You like me too.”

You lift yourself off of him, raising an eyebrow. “Is that the only thing you got from that?”

His hands on your hips keep you from moving around. His cock is softening around your walls, all helping his heart rate return to a comfortable pace. “Well, had I know us liking each other meant mind-blowing sex, yeah, I get to be a little salty I didn’t say anything earlier.”

You laugh. “You’re unbelievable.”

He smirks. “That’s right.” He readjusts, helping you up and off of his dick. His cum, white liquid, spills out of you.

You cup yourself immediately. “Oh shit, that’s gonna get on this cushion.”

“Oh shit.” Jimin cups your pussy too. Extra barrier, he would say. He turns towards the long bathtub. “How about a bath now?” He flashes you a grin when you nod.

Keeping one arm around your waist to keep you steady, he leans down to dig through the pile of his clothes until he produces his wand. Turning towards the tub, he waves his wand. At once, the water from the tabs go off, each flow of water a different color. Some emit a string of bubbles, giving a formy texture to the bathwater currently in the tub.

Given the size of the bathtub, one might have assumed it would take a long time to fill the space, so it’s a surprise to see water nearing the top after only a matter of minutes. Jimin waves his wand again to stop the water coming out of the tabs.

Jimin removes his hand from you and allows you to straighten into a standing position. He stands too, guiding you to the edge of the bathtub where he lets you step into the water first.

The water is the perfect temperature, warm and wonderful as it envelops your body. As you sink down, you sigh as you feel your muscles relaxing, where you don’t stop adjusting until your butt hits the appropriate step to sit on. Jimin follows in after you, not stopping until he’s sitting right behind you.

“Ahhhhh, shit, this is perfect,” He says quietly, wrapping his arms around you. The only sound in the room is the rustle of water that splashes around softly in time to the movements both of you make.

You move your head slightly to dip strands of your hair into the water. “Wow, no wonder Yoongi takes his job so seriously. I’d hate to lose out on this.”

“Well, just stick with me, baby, and we’ll keep sneaking around for the rest of the school year.”

You turn slightly to look at him. “Do you mean… sneaking around Head Boy equipment, or sneaking around the school?” There’s an implication in your question. Do you plan to keep me a secret?

However, Jimin quells that worry rather quickly. “Sweetheart, I’ve been chasing you around for a month and a half—emotionally and physically. Do you really think I’d be able to keep my feelings a secret in front of other people?”

You smile, relaxing back into his arms. “I’m glad to hear that…”

“Plus when I kick your ass in our classes, I think that it’s more satisfying to hear that I beat my girlfriend instead of that transfer student from Ilvermorny. Makes it more personal. Just how I like it.”

“There it is.”

He laughs, nudging himself further into you. It stays like this for a little bit, both of making conversation, but mostly just done in the privacy of this space you’ve carved for yourselves. You aren’t too sure of how much time has gone by until you’re hearing the statue behind the entrance to the bathroom move, followed immediately by a voice. It’s Min Yoongi.

“Hey, who the fuck is in here—oh shit, Jimin?” A pause, both of you immediately spinning around to look towards the source of the noise. Yoongi notices you immediately, eyes widening as he turns around to face the wall. “Is that Y/N? What the fuck are you doing here? This is the Prefects’ Bathroom!” Another pause. “Wait, hold the fuck up—are you guys together?”

You, however, don’t hear any of those questions. You’re too busy squealing in surprise, immediately dipping your body lower into the water to avoid having Yoongi’s eyes wander to places they don’t belong. You cover your breasts to further avoid that.

Jimin shifts towards you to block your body. “What the fuck? What are you doing here? It’s Saturday morning!”

“Hey!” Yoongi whirls around, red-faced, purposefully avoiding your gaze. “Don’t answer my question with a question! And I’m Head Boy, I’m allowed in here!”

“You gave me the password!”

“Yes, in the case of an emergency! Is snuggling up to your girlfriend really an emergency?”

“Well, in that case no, but having a celebratory bath with my new girlfriend could be classified as an emergency?”

“JIMIN.” Yoongi runs a hand through his hair, whirling around. “Holy fuck, if Flinch saw you in here… if he knows that you’re in here thanks to me…”

“Uh…” You say from behind Jimin. Only your neck is visible above the water, so your voice and arm raising are extremely meek. “Yoongi? I’m sorry… we were both tired and gross, and Jimin had a hangover…”

“No, uh, Y/N…” Yoongi cuts in, albeit more gently. “I don’t blame you.” He looks down at his watch. “I should probably let you know, however, that it’s almost eight o’clock and I’m aware that you have a report to submit to Professor Sinistra before the train leaves back for home?”

“Oh shit!” You startle at that news. “I have to go do that now…”

Yoongi glares at Jimin, then looks back at you, and sighs heavily. “Okay,” He starts slowly. “I’m just gonna stand outside and pretend that I didn’t see any of this. You guys better be out there in five minutes though. Both of you.” Without another look at either of you, Yoongi exits the room.

Immediately, you and Jimin scramble to dry yourselves off. Both of you decide to just leave your hairs damp and wet, electing that just getting the basics of your attire on is more important. In the end, you’re both just in your appropriate bottoms, and messily put together blouses and tops. Yours isn’t even buttoned all the way, leaving your collarbone exposed and littered with Jimin’s marks from earlier.

Jimin grabs your waist before both of you could make it out. “I’ll be able to see you before you get on the train, right?”

You hum, arm around his neck. “Aw, will the baby miss me?”

He glares, pushing you away slightly. “I’m just asking.”

You laugh. “Most likely, I just need to submit the report. And pack—I didn’t really get to do that yesterday.”

“Okay, okay.” Jimin lets you go. “I just wanted to make sure.”

Flashing him one more smile, you lead both you and Jimin out of the room. True to Yoongi’s word, he’s waiting outside with his hands in his pockets and his eyes averted. They, however, fix themselves on you as soon as you emerge from behind the statue with Jimin.

“I was this close to tipping you off to Mr. Flinch…” Yoongi trails off, studying the two of you. His eyes settle on the hickies at your throat. He freezes. “Wait, did you guys fuck in there?”

“Uh…” Jimin looks at you, the realization settling in both of your gazes. “WELL, Y/N, the love of my life, it was great knowing you, how about you run off to Professor Sinistra while I try to outrun Yoongi’s rage.”

Yoongi pales, looking like his soul has just departed from his body. “So that means…”

You nod, corner of your lips smiling despite the potential outcome of the situation. “I’ll write to you once a week.” You look back at Yoongi’s increasingly stony expression. “I’m sorry Yoongi.” You say this before turning around and practically running down the hallway.

Just before you turn to go down the stairs to collect your report, you make out one last sentence: “JIMIN, YOU MOTHERFUCKER!”

#jimin scenario #jimin x reader #jimin x you #jimin fluff #jimin smut #jimin x y/n #bts scenarios #bts x reader #bts fluff #bts imagines #bts smut #traci writes #hp reputation series #i..... am so tired #i want to be freed from this fic

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