#capable of doing terrible things. leave me alone lmao

[gokkyfanboy]

not to sound weird but empathy is such an odd thing to me. like youre telling me that you FEEL it when people are hurt? I understanding sympathy but you genuinely feel anguish with them????

the idea of physically feeling someone else’s pain (whether mental or physical) sounds like something from a fantasy species

[banshatheblademaster]

figured out what to do about nya for the ghost swap

Ronin: - appears to be a roughed up, but humble shopkeeper somewhere in ninjago. wont take kindly to thieves and has quite a bit of combat experience. - not quite as terrible as in canon, but he does have the occasional dubious tactic for upping sales numbers, knows little scruple in that field sometimes - changes the story abotu his injured eye every time someone asks him. - takes Bansha in after she asks for work (a bit of a retcon from post 1 but bear with me) and more or less becomes her sole guardian for the time. teaches her all he knows about self defense - becomes samurai x some time after bansha saves him from the skulkin and leaves to train her newlyfound powers in the monastery. claims he does so because he doesnt trust the fate of the world to be handled by some kids, but he also worries about bansha, knowing she bites off more than she can chew quite often. - his identity is revealed to bansha first, but officially ot the rest of the group roughly by season 2. he stays for the final battle but then goes off to do his thing until season 5 - much like nya, ronin is revealed to be the master of water, and receives training from Master Preeminent while the rest of the group try to figure out how to save Morro. hes good at fighting, but kind of sucks because hes only ever learned to rely on what he thought he was capable of, not these new powers. also claims hes too old to learn new ways to fight, even if the water elemental is crucial to their victory

Nya: - rough-and-tumble girl of mysterious origins, often seen wandering around in towns. lately seems to have settled in Stiix. - uses the fact that she is underestimated a lot to her favor. will befriend people only if it benefits her, and conceals that fact pretty well. is closer in personality to canon ronin than this ronin lmao - used to travel around with her brother Kai after the disappearance of their parents. whilst trying to find them - and keeping him and his little sister alive - kai made a deal for his soul, in exchange for a foolproof way to locate their parents. - the two of them made the trip, which dragged on from weeks to months. frustrated, stressed and malnourished, kai slowly lost his mind. behind nyas back, he sold off her soul aswell to make the journey end as soon as possible. - just after a fight in which kai admitted he had no idea if they are ever going to find their parents, the two of them are ambushed - kai is killed and nya severly injured. she manages to survive, miraculously, and is nursed back to health in a hospital. - the mech arm is a construction of her own; she is just as mechanically gifted as her canon counterpart, likely as a result of travelling so much and needing to steal and fix up cars or bikes. - post-mortem, the cursed soul of kai and the other ghosts commune with her, some of them taunting her, some blaming her for her situation. it worsens her mental state further, but kai at the very least can instruct her on how to make it alone. shes long given up finding her parents at this point and lives as a vagabond, stealing, gambling and making enemies at every turn. all she wants now is to free herself of the curse, which the ghosts promise they can do, if she in turn helps with disrupting the ninjas plans to save their realm - her backstory left her with severe issues regarding trust, but she comes around to bonding with ronin while hes in training

[koffing-time]

//YEAHH woo cheese is back!!! hi cheese!!! (i mean. we've been in contact) but YEAHHH CHEESE BLOGS ARE BACK

Hey! You're a Poison-type user! This Trubbish won't leave me alone, and I caught him, so he's mine, I think? Is there any way to make him... smell less trashy? Koffing smell too, right? I know that one. So maybe you have some ideas, especially if you're running a café?

-@say-it-with-sizzle

Hi there! first off: congrats! Trubbish are usually not very social pokémon, so being chosen by a wild one is pretty awesome! (that doesn't mean you smell btw)

So, about his smell:

\\headcanon ahead (also long post so i'll make a cut)

Trubbish, like many Poison Types that have unusual diets (Grimer, Varoom etc), their smell and sometimes their appearance depends a lot on what they eat. I've looked at your blog, you're in Nimbassa right? If you caught your Trubbish there, i'm not surprised he smells atrocious. No offense to the people there, but it's a big city with many events and a lot of waste that is pretty disgusting. Imagine a mixture of burnt fireworks and gasoline from the amusement park and musical as well as greasy makeup, half eaten and spoiling food from sport events and whatever unspeakable things can be found in the battle metro? Sounds familiar bc your Trubbish smells exactly like that? (Be glad you didn't catch him in the sewers of castelia lmao)

Yeah... tl:dr get him on a diet that smells better.

You can easily mix some detergents or soaps (with parfume) into his food, he should be quite capable of digesting it and check if there's some stuff that smells bad that he's eaten. There are two things to consider for Trubbish diet though:

1: they need some sort of toxic compounds for their poison type attacks. You should be able to get him a proper assortment from like, cleaning chemicals. Parfumed detergents and stuff, so there is definitely an option for good smell (don't expect too much though, he won't smell like the flower fields near Opelucid). If he doesn't get any of these compounds, he might get stressed at the lack of self-defense options. He'll possibly also try to scavenge public trash cans or stuff like that, and you don't want that for multiple reasons.

2: Trubbish don't do much digestion. They mostly just absorb whatever they eat directly into their body (bonus of being amorphous i guess?) and it stays there until the energy is used up. This means, they often need rotten or spoiling organic food, (or rather the bacteria and molds and stuff) to help break down their (other) food, so they can use more energy quickly. There are foods that smell TERRIBLE when rotting, and other that are... okay-ish, and depending on what you give him, he'll smell similar. Technically they don't need these organic foods, but if they don't have access to them, they grow lethargic and are generally weaker.

Once you change his diet, he possibly won't change his smell significantly for 3 to 4 weeks though, because the stuff usually stays in their body for a longer time than "regular" pokémon.

That being said, please do provide him a proper toxic diet. I mean, he's basically perfectly happy with playing your trashcan. For real, give him food scraps, empty dish soap bottles and stuff like that (keep in mind the smell of whatever it is though). Only giving him (regular) pokémon-food is almost certainly make his life worse and prone to illness, stress and whatnot.

As for Coffee, my Koffing, it's a similar thing. He smells mostly like, well, coffee, because his diet is mostly that. As a result, he's also entirely non-toxic, because he doesn't eat anything that's toxic in the first place. It's really funny how some of the most toxic pokémon in the wild don't produce any toxins themself and just eat them to use them later. Also, Coffee doesn't feel the need to be toxic (i am definitely happy to provide him a proper toxic diet and he knows this). Your trubbish very likely feels different about self defense. So again, please provide him some toxic stuff.

And a little funfact: Koffing sometimes form competing gangs in bigger cities purely based on smell. Owners of Koffing who smell like a certain part of town have to be careful if they go to another one.

[hamstermastersamster]

10 fandoms 10 characters!

Tagged by @talkingsoup <3

(Man I'm definitely not IN 10 fandoms so most of these are just Blorbos from my Shows/Books/Games)

April O'Neil from TMNT is very special to me. Just a normal gal swept up in absolute cartoon nonsense and accidentally adopting 4 idiot mutant turtle sons/little brothers and you know what, she's just Rolling With It. She's smart, warm, resilient and wholesome. I love her a whole lot. Check out my tmnt sideblog @hamsterandturtlesoup if you really want to know how much xD

Squall from Final Fantasy VIII is a definite son blorbo. As a kid, I naturally thought his icy edgelord emo personality and black leather get-up was simply cool, and when I replayed it again as an adult I was just "oh you poor thing you". He's a child soldier, lost his found-family but can't remember that so just has persistent feelings of abandonment and severe social avoidance, struggles to express emotion, has Friends forced upon him against his will and starts to Feel Things . . . Aaaa ;A; You get to choose certain responses in the game and I like to have him warm up slowly over time to his friends. That character progression is just so wholesome to see. I still have a significant FFVIII fanfic WIP that explores his character development floating around . . . maybe someday I'll finish it x'D

Rung from Transformers MTMTE is a prime of example of me falliing in love with 'minor' characters who then go on to have the shittiest time ever. At this point I'm fairly sure I do this TO them by warping reality when I decide I like them a lot. But I love it when characters I love suffer, so >_>; Rung is just a soft caring psychologist without flashy function or alt mode or combat capability! LEAVE HIM ALOOOOONE-

Lara Croft from Tomb Raider - no, not the modern reboot that gave her extreme daddy issues, or the reboot before THAT that gave her mommy issues and unnecessary friends calling her in the middle of isolated ruin exploration and worries about the blood on her hands. NO, I'm talking about the OG ruthless queen trapped in an aristocratic life who lost her fiance and old life in a plane crash that only she survived, but found herself in that survival and was effectively reborn. Her family cut ties with her and she simply said 'fine, fuck off' and worked alone for the thrill of it and made her own fortune and killed what she had to with a smile. She avoided any kind of love interest until Angel of Darkness and even then it was implicit enough to be completely ignored. She was a fucking badass. Child!hamster wanted to be her. Stripping away the visual and marketing sexualisation of her, she was such an important piece of feminist history in video games. I took archaeology at AS level because of her lmao.

Thalric from the Shadows of the Apt book series (just kidding lol, SotA doesn't have a visible fandom! I AM THE FANDOM-). SotA is a really unique and interesting insect-based fantasy world that I will sing praises for forever. I could talk about a bunch of characters in it <3 However, Thalric is, bluntly, a complicated Wasp villain who has done a lot of Bad Things but starts to feel conflicted over the shitty stuff his empire is doing and making him do. His full conversion to Sort-Of-Good-Guy happens over a looong time and is one of my favourite moral turnabouts I've ever seen. He's just so interesting as an example of a soldier brainwashed by his toxic state and trying to undo that, and at various points you really feel for him even though he's done absolutely terrible things. Only a great writer and compelling character can pull that off.

Raz from Psychonauts is a special little boy and only the first psychic on my list! :D What is not to love about a little psychic boy raised in a circus cursed to die in water with the gumption to sneak into a summer camp for psychic kids. His design, his voice acting, his character writing are just so good and I want to protect him ;A; When Psychonauts 2 unravelled the truth of his family history it just about murdered me in my seat. Since he actually gets recruited, does that make him another child soldier? . . . 2 on my list so far xD

Steven from Steven Universe is just a good soft kind boy with trauma. You know I love a good soft kind boy with trauma. (He also fights in a war, technically? Child soldier number 3!)

Lessa from the Dragonriders of Pern book series is a tiny undernourished woman filled with raw psychic power, vengeance, pride and spite and I respect that. She avoids the massacre of her entire family by pretending to be a filthy servant for a decade, and then manipulates the invading murderer into a duel to the death with a dragonrider whom she also manipulates so that she can reclaim her ancestral home, but instead decides to go one better and become the forerunning Queen dragonrider, so basically rules the world instead for her lifetime. She is a queen from all angles.

Edward Elric from Fullmetal Alchemist is I guess child soldier no 4! What can I say, he's just a spirited, talented idiot boy wrapped up in tragedy and disability and angst. This is, of course, everything I could hope for in a character because suffering is delicious to me. But suffering with a happy ending is even better, and I love FMA's ending for him :3

Samuel Vimes from Discworld is one of my favourite characters ever. He's so flawed, but with a hellish bent for justice and a heart of gold, and I just love seeing things through his eyes? A compelling character with his own layers of angst and tragedy who has always felt very real to me. RIP pterry you are always missed.

Most of these are boys, my god. Too many beautiful (pathetic loser) boys. I have a weakness. Clearly I need to open my heart to more pathetic women in media.

Tagging . . . everyone xD I have a personal rule of not tagging individuals in these things as I don't want to pressure anyone! But go for it if you feel the inclination, I would love to read your takes and blorbos :3

[maleficore]

Saw a few other people do it so here's my take on an

✨Arthur Morgan playlist ✨

feat. my terribly inconsistent taste in music.

It's gonna be a long one because I'm about to ramble about each and every song, so I'm adding a cut.

If you just want to listen to it, HERE is the link :)

Behind Blue Eyes by Limp Bizkit

"No one knows what its like; To be the bad man; To be the sad man; Behind blue eyes" Come on.

She Burns by Fov Vance

This is the obligatory Mary song. Like the entirety of it. Just listen.

Their Truth by Tyto Grey

Not only is it the ultimate wanderlust song, but also "They’ll pull the shade over your eyes; And convince you to sacrifice; All of your life" Lord have mercy.

Colors by Halsey

Listen, I know this is a love song. But the theme of betrayal and abandonment feels very appropriate for Arthur's relationship with Dutch and the way it progresses throughout the game. Just keep that in mind when listening and you'll understand what I mean.

Youth by Daughter

The whole song. Literally. I have no idea why this is not considered The Arthur Morgan Song™ "And if you're still breathing, you're the lucky ones; 'Cause most of us are heaving through corrupted lungs" Or the entire "We are the reckless, we are the wild youth; Chasing visions of our futures; One day, we'll reveal the truth; That one will die before he gets there" verse. Bro.

Blonde Hair, Black Lungs by Sorority Noise

I'll admit I mainly put this one in because of the title lmao, but also works nicely as another Mary song? Just a way more sad and less lovesick one.

I'll Be Good by James Young

I'd have to paste the entire song here. It fits that well.

It's Alright by Mother Mother

The whole song again. I really wish he could listen to this one on repeat.

Little Dark Age by MGMT

"Forgiving who you are for what you stand to gain; Just know that if you hide, it doesn't go away" :)

Wires by The Neighborhood

This one is probably more Dutch than Arthur in parts, but fits them both as a duo just as well. I'm not gonna paste the entire second verse, but it's very Arthur at the end of it all there.

Art School Wannabe by Sorority Noise

"Maybe I'm my own greatest fear Maybe I'm just scared to admit that I might not be as dark as I think Maybe I am not the person That I never wanted to be" Yeah.

Run by AWOLNATION

Well I'd say "I am a human being capable of doing terrible things" works well and the song is fire so.

Me and My Friends Are Lonely by Matt Maeson

"I was looking for a purpose, what a chance, you had some with you" gave me baby Arthur vibes. Idk what more to tell ya. ("I always figured that I'd be the one to die alone" hurts good too so...)

Oh My God by Ida Maria

"Arthur's inability to leave the gang" the song, basically.

No Roots by Alice Merton

"I build a home and wait for someone to tear it down Then pack it up in boxes, head for the next town running" no more thoughts than that. Song works well for an outlaw.

Renegades by X Ambassadors

Same thing. Outlaw song :)

Born To Die by Lana Del Rey

I saw a John & Arthur edit on TikTok so good I couldn't not add this one. Lyrics work for them so well.

Trouble by Cage The Elephant

"Trouble on my left, trouble on my right I've been facing trouble almost all my life My sweet love, won't you pull me through? Everywhere I look, I catch a glimpse of you I said it was love and I did it for life, didn't do it for you" *shrugs*

And here's a few last ones that I've added purely because The Vibes felt right:

We Might Be Dead By Tomorrow by Soko

Scar Tissue by Red Hot Chili Peppers

Alien Blues by Vundabar

Father by The Front Bottoms

East by Sleeping At Last

[atopearth]

Bakumatsu Renka Shinsengumi Part 2 - Saito Hajime Route

I decided to pick this up again and (hopefully) finish it! I can't believe Saito is around the same age as Heisuke lol! It's always amusing to see what clicks with the guys and getting plus points with Saito by sharpening swords together is hilarious😆 I always liked Ito so it always makes me sad to think about what happens with them and Heisuke. Nagakura is a great guy though, he's helpful and kind even when they are parting ways. Saito visiting the graves of his fallen comrades is very him, I guess it's natural in a sense because he always lives and he seems like the type of person to feel like he has a duty to pray and fight for them. Honestly, I'm with Saito on this that if Suzuka wasn't feeling well she should have stayed back because she definitely could have caused other people to get hurt, but I will agree that he could have been less harsh about it since it was because she felt responsible especially since she was on the shiban role (at the front and that's most likely to die). It was funny to see Suzuka go from I absolutely won't apologise to I need to apologise after hearing Saito's story from Harada hahaha. It was pretty cute to see Saito smile at Suzuka not knowing what to say because he's leaving the Shinsengumi.

It's always so sad to watch Kondo and Ito leave so amicably and then have Ito killed by the "Shinsengumi" fuelling the hatred of those left behind. But what breaks my heart the most will always be the death of Heisuke considering how young and bright he was. Personally, even though I agree with Hijikata that it's probably pointless to try and explain themselves since regardless of how it occurred, they did kill Ito, but I still think not even trying to talk to the rest of them and just straight up murdering the rest of them still sits very uncomfortably with me and it will always probably be the main reason why I can never completely enjoy stories about the Shinsengumi knowing they were capable of doing something like that. However, as historical figures living back in the day, I'm sure they're not as "great" as they are painted now and probably have done other terrible things as well, but yeah, this is definitely the one I can never really forgive in modern media no matter how justifiable they try to spin it in every story. I think if Saito was willing to participate, I really would have considered him cold blooded especially since he actually spent time with the Goryo-eji and were friends with them. It also doesn't sit well with me that the Shinsengumi know that the Satsuma orchestrated this but were still willing to follow through with it and kill the rest of the Goryo-eji that Ito built up with similar minded people who were kind and desired a future outside of just following orders. Lmao, I love Saito and Suzuka. It was so funny when they demolished that soba shop with Saito eating 40 bowls of soba and Suzuka finishing 30 bowls of red bean soup🤣

LMAO, I was as shocked as Suzuka when Saito took her away from town and kissed her out of the blue! It was so unexpected! I think Oishi being a villain is interesting because it seems like historically, there isn't too much information about him other than him being an assassin and definitely being the one who killed Ito and maybe tried to leave and go to the Satsuma? Which for the latter, I don't blame, because there was no chance for the Shinsengumi and them. Anyway, as for the Oishi in this game, I never liked him because you could see he relished in blood being shed and murdered people because he thought it was satisfying and not because he had a particular goal he fought for so I can definitely see why Saito hates him, because I as well could never understand why he was kept in the Shinsengumi considering how "unfaithful" he probably was. But I also recognise that the Shinsengumi doesn't have many people, let alone capable people, so really, they probably didn't have much of a choice. Saito is a man of few words so it's really sweet to see that half of his motivation to stay in Aizu is because of Suzuka, and that he wants to live with her and not die with her even knowing the odds. I actually completely forgot about the confession and Saito still waiting for an answer hahaha! Such a silly but sincere man. It was nice to see that they could have a happy ending. Overall, I liked Souji's route more because I felt like we spent more time with him, but Saito's route was okay. I think it would have nice to see more interactions between Saito and Ito and them because I felt like a lot of things I had to substantiate for myself and think of what kind of person Saito is in order to really feel like I can understand his feelings he had towards the Shinsengumi and the Goryo-eji. His confession was also pretty out of nowhere, but I did enjoy what happened after that because I think it was pretty cute how he was set on avenging Ito and then spending his life doing what he wanted to do and what he thought he should do rather than just following the Shinsengumi.

[cowboy-like-mee]

please, just say it

summary: harry fucked up and you’ve had enough

warnings: little bit of smut at the beginning, lots of angst

word count: 2k

a/n: hi! hopefully this isn’t awful lmao. i had fun writing this. sorry it took a bit for me to finish. i kinda hate the end but it’s fine. please reblog if you like!!! and leave me feedback or requests here!!!

and consider buying me a coffee here <3

masterlist

"Fuck, Y/N! Just like that, baby." Harry moans out as you bounce up and down on his cock. Your legs were burning and you honestly weren't that close, You just weren't as into it tonight as you normally are with him. You can tell he was enjoying himself though- his head was thrown back on the pillow behind him and his mouth was open in pleasure. His hands are lazily rested on your ass, not helping you move on and off him at all. 

"Shit, a-are you close?" He speaks out to you, pulling you out of your trance. You think for a second, not knowing if you wanted to lie just to get this done with or if you wanted to make him work to get you off. 

"Not really." You shrug, continuing to grind yourself onto his cock, feeling the coarse hairs around the base of his cock digging into your clit. 

Not expecting that answer, his head snaps up to you as he tries to bite back his moans. 

"Shit, I'm sorry. What do you need me to do?" 

"Um, can you get on top? And rub my clit?" You say shyly, despite the number of times you have done this together.

He flips you both over in one swift movement and begins railing into you, hitting the spot inside of you consistently. His hand reaches right above where you're connected and rubs tight circles into your clit. You can feel a small orgasm building up quickly.

"Is that better, baby?" He says into your ear, sending a shiver down your spine because of the huskiness in his voice. You nod and squeeze your eyes shut, trying to force your release. 

"Come with me, Y/N." Harry groans out, his hips stuttering. You feel a small bubble release in your belly, spreading warmly throughout your lower body. He pulls out as soon as he's done releasing inside of you. He plops down on the bed next to you, his arm resting on his abdomen as he catches his breath. You turn over onto your side and curl up under the covers, feeling extremely vulnerable and small. 

Your throat burns, tears stinging your eyes. You sniffle quietly to yourself, hoping Harry can't hear you. You can't believe you've let yourself get to this point. You're disgusted with yourself. Silent tears spill down your cheeks. You swallow down the sobs bubbling in your throat. You wish you could disappear right now. 

The bed dips next to you, signaling Harry's departure. You're quick to wipe the tears off your face. Harry pulls his clothes on quickly. "I'm gonna head out," he says. When you don't reply he gently shakes your body. "C'mon, I know you're awake." You're frozen. This could be the moment when you finally let him in.

"Alright, whatever. I'll text you when I need you-" He says, but quickly cuts himself off when he sees you roll over to face him with puffy eyes and tear-stained cheeks. "What's wrong?" He furrows his eyebrows at you as he sits down on the edge of the bed.

You sit up and pull your legs into your chest. "H... can we talk?" You speak lowly. He sighs, almost sounding annoyed. Even though you've known each other for a few years, you don't think you've spent over two hours together in one day in a year. This is pushing the imaginary time limit he set for you two. You know Harry, and you know he likes to fuck you and leave, or fuck you and send you on your way if it was at his place. 

"Sure." He shrugs. "What's up?"

You take a deep breath to prepare yourself for the words you're about to spill out of your mouth. "I don't think I can do this with you anymore." You spit out so quickly it's almost inaudible. He immediately reels back in shock. 

"W-what? Why? Is it something I did? Are you not satisfied? I-I know I can do better. I mean sometimes I don't always try. Have you been faking it? I promise I'll do better-" He rambles on and on and you just sit there in silence as he worries more about his ego than the way tears are welling up in your eyes. You clench your jaw at him.

"Harry!" You yell at him. "Listen to me!" He slowly nods his head. "I...I just-" You sigh, trying to think of the right thing to say. "I just haven't been that into it lately and... I just have a lot of stuff going on in my life right now." Tears spill down your cheek as you speak.

"I can help you-" He tries to intervene.

"No, Harry. You don't understand. It's nothing you can fix. I just need to be left alone. I've had a lot of fun with you, but I think it's best for both of us right now." 

"But how? How is it better for me? I need you." He tries to reach for you, but you flinch back. 

"You don't need me." You mumble under your breath, hoping he didn't hear you. 

"What?" He says, cluing you in on the fact he just heard you say that. 

"You don't need me, Harry! You need my fucking pussy!"

"What the fuck does that mean, Y/N?" He says while clenching his jaw.

"Apparently, I'm only good enough for a quick fuck, Harry." You say mocking the tone he just used on you. 

"Well, that's all we agreed to, is it not?" He raises his eyebrow at you. 

"We agreed to hook up with no feelings! Not using me for your own pleasure every god damn day! You never even greet me or ask how I'm doing! You just push me up against the nearest wall and kiss me! What if I didn't even invite you over for sex and you kissed me without asking, huh?"

"Well, fuck, Y/N, I didn't realize I was supposed to be your therapist before I fuck you! And you ever invite me over for anything other than sex anyway!" He screams out.

"God, you're such a fucking asshole! I'm not saying that! We used to be best friends and now I can't even remember the last real conversation we've had. And I never explicitly say I want you to come over for sex! I just ask for you to come over and you assume that every time. Maybe I just want to hang out with my old best friend!" You scream out. 

His jaw drops in shock and he's quick to defend himself. "You can't put this all on me! It's on both of us, Y/N! You could have tried talking to me too, and if you want to hang out without fucking you should have said something."

"I have tried! You never fucking listen to me, Harry! Everything I have said to you in the past year has gone in one ear and out the other." You scream.

He stares at you in silence, not knowing what to say. He knew he hasn't been the best to you the past year, but he didn't realize it was this bad.

"You fuck me and then leave two minutes after we're done, or should I say when you're done! You can't even look me in the eye when your dick is inside of me. What did I do wrong, Harry? I just miss how we used to be. I want to go out to eat with you again and have movie nights and paint each other's nails. I just want us to be how we used to be! Before we even began hooking up. You never stay over for longer than two hours. It's like your not physically capable of it. Am I that terrible of a person you can't even stand to be around me anymore? You used to be my best friend and now I don't even know if I can qualify as a friend." You say choking back your sobs. 

He tugs on his hair and sighs. "Fuck." He says to himself. "I never thought it would get to this point, Y/N."

You roll your eyes. "What does that mean?" 

"How do you expect me to have sex with you multiple times a week while continuing being your best friend without catching feelings for you!"

"What's so bad about having feelings for me, huh?" You say looking him in the eye with the most heartbreaking look on your face.

"Nothing is bad about that, I just don't need a relationship right now." He explains.

"You're the one that initiated the first kiss between us, Harry. You knew I had just gotten out of a relationship. You knew how sad I was. You took advantage of me."

You stare at him hoping he would say something. You stared at him hoping he would admit that he kissed you that night because he liked you as much as you liked him and not because he felt bad for you. You hoped he would own up to everything he's done to you, apologize, and confess his love for you, or else you might as well just pass away right there

When he said nothing, you continued, "And just because you have feelings for me doesn't mean we have to be in a relationship. I don't understand. You've made me feel like shit just because you don't have time for a relationship right now? Have you ever noticed that you've been doing this or are you just as clueless as every other straight man on this planet?" 

"Of course I didn't notice. I would never purposely make you feel that way! I'm not a complete dick." 

"I just..." You trail off, unsure if you should tell him your next thought.

"What? Tell me, Y/N." He says 

"I just wish you wanted me as much as I want you." You say sadly, letting your head fall into your hands.

"Y/N, I-I don't know what to say." He says sadly grabbing your hand in his larger one. 

"Tell me you don’t want to leave. Say I’m enough to make you stay. I know it’s not true, but please just say it."

"I-I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Please, don't leave me. I-I will be better. I s-swear. You are enough. I'll stay. I miss how we used to be too. We can go back to how we once were. I swear. " He sniffles, tears welling up in his eye.

"Harry..." You whisper.

"Y/N..." He whispers back.

"I need you to leave." You say as strongly as you can manage.

"W-what? But, I thought y-you..you just said" He stumbles over his words, letting several tears slide down his cheeks. He stands up and looks at you.

"Please, Harry. I can't do this anymore. I need to move on. I've been waiting for over a year for you. You had your chance. You broke my heart." You shake your head as you speak, trying to hold yourself together.

When he stares at you saying nothing with silent tears streaming down his red cheeks, you continue. 

"And you wanna know what the worst part of this is?" You choke out a fake laugh through your hot tears. "You're the one I would usually run to after something like this, but you're the one that did this to me."

You stand up out of bed pulling your t-shirt back over your head along with a random pair of sweats on the ground, not bothering with panties. You quickly make your way to leave your house, before turning around at your bedroom door. You turn around to look back at Harry, he's standing there looking at the spot on the bed where you just were. You shake your head and sigh loudly.

"And please be gone by the time I get back." You say and make your way out of the house, getting in your car and speeding off to clear your mind. 

Fuck him. 

[klvbxlove]

worried (yu x gn! reader)

a/n: God, i’ve got so many ideas for persona 4 fanfics so y’all might see some coming soon LMAO. but no worries, i’ll try my best to write more iida drabbles as well (of course, i could never forget my number one anime husbando. but i’ll be honest, kanji might take his place very soon? maybe? huehuehue). anyways, i saw some persona 4 requests in my inbox (which i did not expect, haha), but i’ll try my best to get to them whenever possible! so until then, enjoy this yu drabble :)

reader type: gender neutral 

reader specification(s): none

genre(s): angst, hurt/comfort

trigger warning(s): mentions of car accidents, mentions of injuries

summary: after being a coma from a car accident, you finally woke up, much to the huge relief of your family and friends, especially yu.

word count: 2.6k words

♡ ♡ ♡ (ꈍᴗꈍ)ε���*) ♡ ♡ ♡

key:

(e/c) = eye color (l/n) = last name (y/n) = your name

♡ ♡ ♡ (ꈍᴗꈍ)ε｀*) ♡ ♡ ♡

   Today should have been another day of you and the Investigation Team hanging out with Yu. He had come back to Inaba a few days ago for another (surprisingly long) break, and you were excited to see him again. 

   But unfortunately, no. That day did not happen. 

   Instead, you found yourself in a hospital room. You had woken up almost a week ago, having no idea what had happened. All you remembered is that as soon as you got the strength to sit up from your hospital bed, you felt nothing but excruciating pain. And when you looked down at your body, your (E/C) eyes widened at the extent of your injuries. You were in terrible condition. 

   Then a few minutes later, the nurses and doctors rushed into your room in complete shock when they realized you woke up. At first, you were confused. But then they explained everything. From what you could recall, you were hanging out with your friends when you saw Yu’s younger cousin, Nanako, standing in the road. Realizing there was a car heading towards her, your instincts caught up with you, and you quickly pushed the younger girl out of the way, which ultimately resulted in you getting hit. 

   Unfortunately, the impact was so severe that you had slipped into a coma. Even with the surgery (which luckily was a success), you were still fighting for your life. The staff had no idea if you would even wake up. 

   Your eyes widened in shock. However, the one thing that made your shock worse was when one of the doctors said that there was a chance you would have died due to the severity of your injuries. “Consider yourself lucky,” one of the doctors said, “Because if not, well, there would not be much we could have done to save you,”

   You were in disbelief. You could have died?!

   WHAT THE HELL?!

   You swear, you almost thought your jaw dropped. You did not even know how long you laid there in bed, thinking of the word ‘died.’ 

   D-I-E-D.

   There was nothing but silence (you could almost hear a pin drop) for a few minutes after taking in the news. 

   Then you heard that your family and friends knew of the accident and you would be able to have visitors in a few days. But all you could do was think about how injured you were. It was bad enough that you were in this condition. However, you could not wrap your brain around the fact that you might have been dead. 

   And then your family would have to set up a funeral for you, bury your body underground, and you would be there until the end of time. 

   Maybe you would even have a spirit in whatever place you ended up after death. 

   Oh God, you could not even think to imagine how your family and friends would react. Especially the Investigation Team--

   Wait a minute. The Investigation Team! 

   Now the worry was starting to kick in. You just realized that you have not heard from your friends since you woke up. Not at least one thing from one of the members (and nothing from Nanako either!). You had no idea if anyone had told them what happened to you when you arrived or the fact that you were alive. Hell, you would not be surprised if they thought you were still in a coma and would be for who knows how long. 

   You sighed, the apprehension still in you. Today was certainly not your day. You just wanted to be able to hang out with Yu again before he had to go back to Tokyo (even though it was a long way from now). But you had no idea when you would be able to leave the hospital! Not for a while, that was for sure. You might as well try to dwell in pure boredom. 

  Oh yeah, and also try to ignore the pain. You might have felt slightly better for the past few days, but the agony was still shooting in almost every part of your body. You could only hope that all of this will be over soon. And then later, when you were finally feeling better, you would be back home with your family.

-

   “(L/N)?”

   You were in the middle of messing with your bedsheets when you heard your name. Looking up, you saw one of the nurses giving you a small smile as she stood next to your bed. You did not even remember hearing her walk towards you. I guess you got a little too caught up with your bedsheets. “How are you feeling now, sweetheart? Any more pain or anything?”

   You looked off to steal a glance at one of the hospital walls. The pain was still there, but it was not bothering you compared to the day you woke up. You could say that you were fine (mostly), but you could not find the strength to tell the nurse for some reason. No, you did not care that you looked like you were  staring off into the distance pondering about life. 

   “(L/N)? Are you alright?”

   The voice brought you back to reality, and you saw the nurse looking at you with a somewhat concerned look on her face. 

   “Oh, sorry. I’m fine, for now,” you said,  “No pain or anything,”

   “Alright,” the nurse smiled in relief. “I know the staff and I keep telling you this so many times, but if you begin to feel pain or need any assistance, you let someone know, okay?” 

   “I know, thank you,” you nodded. 

   “Of course,” the nurse looked over at the door, “Now, you got a visitor who wants to see you. Well, he and a couple of his other friends wanted to see you for a while. We had to tell them no since you were still in a coma at the time, but they were determined to go to your room,” she chuckled sheepishly. 

   “Who is it?” you asked. The last time you knew, your family members had visited first. 

   “Yu Narukami, one of your classmates,” the nurse answered. “Would you like me to let him in?”

   You blinked before nodding. “Yeah, sure,”

   It was only a few seconds of silence you faced in your hospital room. During that timespan, you began to feel nervous about your friend being in the same room as you without the Investigation Team (wherever they were). Your heart was almost beating at the thought of it, and you could feel a blush on your cheeks; if you were capable of blushing, that is. 

   But before you knew it, you instantly recognized the familiar gray-haired male as he walked inside. 

   Upon his eyes glancing upon you, Yu’s eyes widened. “(Y-Y/N),” he said, “You’re awake.”

   You nodded, giving him a weak smile and waving with your free hand. “Yep, I am.” 

   Yu walked over to sit at the chair next to your bed. “How have you been lately?”

   “Slightly better compared to when I woke up, but only slightly,” you replied honestly. “Still feeling some pain. Hopefully, when I get out of the hospital, I’ll feel much better.” 

   “That’s good to hear,” Yu gave you a small smile.

   Then you paused. “How about the others? Are they okay?--” And of course, there was another person you were worried about, “--What about Nanako? Is she hurt?”

   “No need to worry, everyone is alright, just a bit shook up after the incident, though,” Yu said, letting out a light chuckle. “Nanako only had some bruises on her legs when you pushed her out of the way, but that was only it. Everyone would have come to visit you alongside me today, but they got busy. And Nanako came down with some sickness. Not the flu or anything major, but we decided to let her rest until she recovers. They promised they would find the time to visit you when they can.”

   You sighed in relief. “At least no one else was hurt. As much as I hate being in the hospital in pain, it’s better than seeing Nanako here for the same reason. I think that would hurt more than my injuries, and they hurt like hell, you know?”

   “But being treated for severe injuries in the hospital is still frightening, (Y/N),” Yu pointed out, “Everyone watched as you got hit by the car. It was awful, you know? You were bleeding so much from your head, too.” The gray-haired male felt like he was about to wince in pain, seeing the injuries you had. 

   “Yeah, I honestly dunno much of what happened after getting hit, other than feeling immense pain,” you admitted, scratching your cheek, “I could only hear muffled voices, but that was it. And then I just closed my eyes. Must have slipped into that coma or something afterward.”

   “Maybe you did.” 

   Moments of silence passed, and Yu felt a knot in his stomach. It had been like that for almost a week. Every time he would think of you in your hospital room in a coma, he would have to go somewhere else alone to relieve his thoughts. But even then, it still was not enough to help him. How could he even talk about his feelings to someone? Yu was aware he had the other members on the Investigation Team to talk to, but he could see them struggling. 

   There was only one person he could talk to about it.

   “(Y/N), I-- Listen,” Yu spoke up in seriousness. Once you looked up at him after staring at your cast, he continued, “I have no idea how else I’m going to begin talking about this. But do you realize how happy I-- no, we are that you’re alive?”

   Huh?

   Okay, that took me off guard.

   You had to admit you were puzzled. How were you supposed to answer that? It was not as if you could put yourself in the shoes of one of your friends. You did not even know what it was like to wait for someone to come out of their coma. So really, you could only shrug at his question. 

   “I remembered when the nurses told us you slipped into a coma and you would need surgery," Yu continued, "God, we were just in shock. No one said anything; you could hear a pin drop in the waiting room. But as soon as they left us alone, we just started crying, you know. Silently, though. But Teddie was the only one wailing.

   “And Nanako?” Yu paused a bit before picking back up, “Well, at first, she looked like she was trying to hold back her tears. That is until we went back to my house. She just started sobbing, saying how it was her fault that you were hurt. She blamed herself for being on the road since she knew it was dangerous. Of course, we kept telling her that it wasn’t her fault, but it was no help. Not even Uncle was able to calm Nanako down, and so she just cried until she fell asleep.”

   If your heart could physically break, it might as well be in a million pieces by now. Your injuries were suddenly hurting way less than seeing Nanako sobbing.

   Meanwhile, Yu looked down at his lap as he felt himself about to shake. “It hurts so much just seeing her upset. And Nanako still blames herself to this day. By that point, it felt like there was not anything else the rest of us could do other than to dwell in sadness. We even had to wait to visit you at the time since the nurses wouldn’t allow any visitors. I just hated not knowing if you were going to live. I hated thinking that there was a chance you would die.”

   Something caught your eyes. 

   Teardrops. 

   They were coming out of his eyes and falling onto his lap. 

   You could even hear small cries coming from him. 

   Oh God, no.

   Why did this hurt a lot?

   “DAMN IT!” 

   You felt yourself jump hearing Yu yell out like that. But what startled you most (it made a squeal come out of you) was when the gray-haired male suddenly engulfed you into a warm hug. The grip was not tight enough to where you could not breathe, but you could tell he was holding onto you as if you were going to slip out of his reach. Yu rested his head against your shoulder, and you were beginning to feel tears staining your hospital gown. It did not even matter that there were butterflies in your stomach. 

   “D-Damn it, (Y/N),” you heard his voice almost cracking,  “You gave us a scare there! I know it would be rude to blame you for getting into that accident since you weren’t asking to get hit by a car. And, of course, I am incredibly thankful that you saved Nanako from getting hurt. But still! I could go over and over again about how relieved we were when we heard you had woken up. We thought it would never happen and that you would never make it.” 

   “Yu...” 

   You felt tears in the corners of your eyes. Damn, you were getting emotional. If there was one thing you hated, it was seeing someone close to you (especially if it was someone you loved) so upset that they cried. And that was what Yu was doing. So you wrapped your arms around him and rubbed his back. His grip on you tightened, but you did not care. All you wanted was for him to let out his tears. 

   Once his cries had turned into sniffles, he lifted his head to make eye contact with you. You could feel your tears pouring out just seeing his tears. You cupped his cheeks with your hands.

   “I’m sorry about that, (Y/N),” Yu mumbled. 

   “No need for an apology,” you assured him. “I know how you-- no, I know I’ll never fully understand what it was like for you guys after the car accident. I mean, how could I? But still, I had no intention of scaring you guys.”

   More silence passed. God, you had no idea what to say at that point. You had no idea how your other friends had been coping through this time, but it was evident there were tears shed. Besides Nanako, you did not even want to imagine their disheartened faces. You knew that you had to comfort Yu in some way. But how?

   You sighed.

   Saying this might as well work. 

   “Look...Yu, listen to me,” you found your voice as you looked into his eyes. “I know you and the others are still upset. I get it. But please don’t go dwelling on the past anymore, okay? Yes, it was a scary situation that should NOT have happened-- it sucked that it even occurred right when you were visiting us --but in the end, I’m alright. Of course, it will take a while for me to recover, but I will do my best to get through this as quickly as possible for you and everyone else.

   “So please,” your thumbs began to gently wipe at Yu’s on pouring tears, “don’t cry anymore. I promise you I’ll be alright.” 

   That was when a sudden bolt of bravery came from inside you. So you leaned in to place a kiss on his cheek.

   You spoke every word as if you meant it (because you did!). You no longer wanted to be a burden to everyone around you. You worried your family and friends enough in the hospital, so the least you could do was make it through your recovery. All you could hope was for Yu to be reassured by everything you said. 

   And thankfully, it worked as he gave you a nod and a tearful smile (you could almost see a light blush covering his cheeks from the kiss). Yu hugged you again, placing his forehead against your shoulder. “Thank you, (Y/N),” he mumbled, “Thank you so much,” 

   “You’re welcome,” you whispered.

[cupofteaguk]

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!” 

[ceoofuwu]

𝐔𝐍𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐃𝐎𝐎𝐑𝐒 ;; 𝘬𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘳𝘪 𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘬𝘪 𝘹 𝘧.𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒: 𝟏.𝟔𝐤

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: you may be Bakugo’s sister but, no one in U.A. had ever known about your existence, until you decided to pay a visit... little did you know that Bakugo wasn’t the only familiar person there...

𝐓.𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: cursing (there’s Bakugo here, you shouldn’t expect any less lmao)

«What?! Bakugo has a sister?!» Mina exclaimed as she entered the living room, hardly having heard the rest of the discussion.

She sat herself cheerfully next to Kirishima, who had actually made space for her, quite eager to keep up with the gossip.

Not that she didn’t have every reason to. Bakugo was mysterious, kept things simple and to himself, always maintaining a distant and goal-oriented attitude, which didn’t allow for much personal investment. Therefore, wasn’t it reasonable for any given “friend” of his to be bound by curiosity?

«Oh shut up! As if you should care, raccoon eyes» he retorted coldly, with a casual murderous glare following shortly.

However, with her happy-go-lucky mindset and the habit of ignorantly listening to the merciless insults of the young hero, the pinkette didn’t mind him at all.

«I should, because when I become a pro hero, she might use some rescuing from me!» she announced, pointing to her gleeful self.

«Thanks, but I believe I can manage on my own».

A smooth, velvet voice cut through the room as the tapping of graceful steps reverberated.  A pair of delicate legs strolling confidently, accompanying a perfectly-shaped body giving off waves of tremendous fortitude.

During the time Mina had spent in the Academy, she had never witnessed, not once Bakugo, the Bakugo, expressing his fear. Now, in the face of his sister, he was wearing a mask of exactly that feeling; terror.

«Is that… are you…» she attempted, feeling solely gaps of air leaving her mouth in stupefaction.

You ceased your pacing, offering everyone a friendly smile, escorted with a gentle wave of your hand.

«Forgive me for not introducing myself earlier. My name is Y/n».

«…you can also call her dumbass» Bakugo mumbled between clenched teeth, intending to make an impression of dominance but also wishing to hide from the tyrant of a woman opposite of him.

«Shut your hole boom-boom idiot!»

An array of giggles filled the air, lighting up the ambiance and therefore breaking the ice, before you noticed a black-haired boy observing you in what seemed to be… dread?

«So she’s also taken after your terribly unhealthy anger issues, huh?» his eyes shifted to your smirking brother while he spoke in a modest and careful voice, as if he had selected his words with extreme cautiousness, one by one.

Another polite smile tugged at your lips, despite feeling quite displeased by your first impression. «I’m nothing like this walking temper tantrum», your gaze travelled around the room, inspecting it and gradually getting used to the surroundings, «…so you are his class… mates…»  your voice slowly faded away as you met with one specific, too familiar person in the room.

It couldn’t be… he couldn’t be here… or, could he? As far as you’re concerned you’re completely sane, which only means that you weren’t hallucinating. A lump had suddenly emerged in your throat and you’d swear your heart had skipped several beats upon realizing what was happening.

«Why the hell are you staring at dunce face?!» Bakugo yelled, fury steeping his features as the urge to protect you took over.

«Dunce… what?»

Denki slightly rolled his eyes, although he seemed to have gotten accustomed to his nickname, and sighed as he struggled to appear collected and unbothered.  «Me».

You scoffed and immediately covered your mouth with your hand, to prevent an inappropriate laughter from coming out. You didn’t really enjoy making fun of others, especially people like him who stood so close to you, but… this just sounded too fitting.

Denki blushed and immediately looked away, in his miserable attempt to be “discreet”.

«Do you guys know each other?» a familiar-looking redhead boy enquired, pointing between you and Denki. Your acquaintance had his mouth half-hanging open, as if he was about to say something, until he met with the frightful message in your look.

No.

You were quick to turn and face the redhead, with calmness written in your features and say: «Not at all, I mean… I hardly know any of you… um… Kirishima, isn’t it?»

The boy’s crimson eyes widened in surprise by the mention of his name.

Seems like I got it right.

«My brother tends to mention you a lot at home…» yet another wave of surprise washing over him, «…mostly how shitty your hair is…» you paused and pondered a little on your words, «…although I beg to differ» you beamed.

Kirishima’s face resembled a mixture of contentedness and dejection. You supposed and hoped that the former was on you.

Even so, for some odd reason, Bakugo was still keeping an eye on Denki. Not that the latter was acting with any prudence whatsoever, what with his nervously avoiding everyone’s eyes in the room.

«So… um… is there a bathroom… somewhere around here..?» you asked timidly, feeling the need to freshen yourself up and relieve some of the tension of this fairly messed up situation.

Soon after, thanks to your brother’s interference, you arrested yourself in that longed-for bathroom, taking a breather in silence and clearing your mind.

Before arriving at U.A. you weren’t really sure how to feel. On the one hand, you genuinely anticipated finally meeting all those amazing, gifted teens that had got themselves involved into so many scandalous episodes. On the other hand, you were doubting your social capabilities of interaction and trembled at the mere thought of stumbling over your words, or making a mess of something as simple a task as that, in general. In fact, an array of worst case scenarios was bombarding your head, even until the second you stepped your foot in that room.

However, discovering that Denki, your Denki, was actually one of the renowned class 1-A students?

That seemed nearly inconceivable to you.

Indeed, you had been dating with the guy for several months now, yet, without neither of you realizing, the hero studies topic had never been brought up; at least not in terms of specification.

So… Denki was a basically a hero… someone capable of coming to your rescue at any given moment… a hero…

«I hope you’re lost in your thoughts about me» an all too familiar voice was heard from the door.

Speak of the devil and the devil will come.

«Denki, what the hell?! How-- why did you come here?!» you called frantically, all the while taking alarming looks around to make sure your privacy was guaranteed.

«Don’t panic. We’re alone. Besides, my dorm is nearby~» he chimed, taking small steps closer to you simultaneously.

«So you used your dorm as an excuse to…?»

«Don’t play dumb, Y/n… you know better than anyone why I’m here…» your boyfriend whispered while slipping his arms around your waist and pulling you flush against his slim body.

You felt the temperature rising in your cheeks and your mind suddenly going blank, as though a fuzzy mist had been blurring everything. You had decided to come here merely to relax before proceeding to make new acquaintances. You couldn’t figure out whether this was happening due to Denki being one hell of a horny pervert or his being a complete and utter idiot. Come to think of it, both statements were suitable at the moment.

In the meantime, Denki was ranting about his plans, his dorm and many other stuff that you didn’t care too much to pay attention to.

«You are a dunce face» you giggled, trying not to focus too much on his golden gaze, which almost pierced holes through your own eyes.

«What did you say?» his face was beginning to distort into a suggestive expression, his lips gradually stretching into a devilish smile.

«You… are… a dunce face» you repeated teasingly and more confidently this time, despite feeling the embarrassment crawling up on you on the inside.

«A dunce face…» he hummed after you, before pushing you gently against a wall, with you hardly realizing, «I wonder where you picked that up from…» he teased, his fingertips sliding underneath your shirt grazing your back, sending minor waves of electricity down your spine with every brush whilst eliciting slight gasps.

Your lust-blown eyes remained locked the entire time, forming some kind of connection, as your breaths were little by little merging into one and the space between you was getting smaller by every second passing. You couldn’t hold your urgencies back anymore; your arms glided on his shoulders, eventually getting wrapped around his neck, as your head titled to the side allowing to the blonde to lean in and touch his lips on yours.  

The subtle electroshocks being produced on your back combined with the feeling of soft lips dancing with even softer ones, wasn’t aiding you at all to restrain that low, throaty moan that escaped from your vocals.

The kiss was slow and yet, steeped with passion, dripping with all these raw emotions that were generated every time you’d encounter one another. Denki had you melting, desperately hanging on to him, as if he was your life line. As he nibbled on your bottom lip, you broke apart, both panting, your lungs burning for air, prior to your foreheads touching intimately, trying to calm your rapidly beating hearts.

«You should lock that doo—«

«GET YOUR FUCKING HANDS OFF HER, DUNCE FACE!»

Before you even had the time to process what had just happened, Denki had done a runner, sprinting as fast as he could as he was being chased down by an infuriated Bakugo. It’s a pity you were marooned like this but, oh well, he was the one who had left the door unclosed….

Hope you enjoyed! Leave a heart, comment, reblog! 💕

[chrolloctrl]

hello～! can i request for Adultrio who fell in love with fem crime hunter Reader? also have a nice day/evening💘

thank you for the request! i tried my best to make all of these different from each other, but i also tried to stay true to how the characters would sincerely react:) oh and sorry for the late post, school’s been tough :( but yknow it be like that

note(s)/warning(s): some mentions of blood and violence, but other than that nothing you wouldn’t see on hxh though

fandom(s)/character(s): hunter x hunter, adultrio, aka illumi, hisoka, and chrollo

for dialogue purposes, italics are you, and bold is the character :)

i l l u m i

since you’re a crime hunter and he is a literal trained assassin, the relationship is pretty much seemingly doomed for failure

however i imagine that you guys meet in an a very unexpected way

he’s on a mission to kill someone who had stolen from the zoldycks, and you’re on a mission to take out a thief

yeah it’s the same guy you got it

illumi gets there first and gets the job done

much to your dismay

you’re standing right behind him as he’s covered in blood over the body

all you say is “since when does the assassin do something morally correct?”

“when it benefits him.” he responds.

i think he recognizes you before you recognize him

“you’re y/n, right? crime hunter?”

“you could say that.”

“we aren’t so different you know..”

“we are incredibly different. i don’t kill for sport.”

“you still kill, though.”

you’re so pissed off because he kind of has a point

oh and that emotionless stupid little face of his pisses you off even more

it’s all love we know i love illumi

illumi’s bloodlust is out of control at this point, your interaction with him just increased that

“what are you going to do? kill me?”

“no. it doesn’t benefit me now does it?”

“what do you want from me illumi?”

“ a deal.”

somehow he ropes you into helping him on missions as long as it corresponds with your own morals

i think the moment he realizes he’s in love with you is when you explain morality to him

like obviously he has no idea wtf good morals are lmao

you act as his therapist in a way, comforting him about his past and telling him that his bad actions don’t make him a bad person, just a person who used to do bad things

sorry guys i love soft illumi, and i genuinely think he has the capability to be good

one day he breaks down after a mission, and he is so embarrassed that you’re the first person he shows his deep, buried emotions to

you just hold him and comfort him, telling him its not his fault

after that he doesn’t want to talk to you because he’s embarrassed

“i think emotions make you a better assassin.”

“how does that make sense?”

“makes you think twice.”

and now he knows why killua loves gon so much.

h i s o k a

we already know this bitch is obsessed with you

probably keeps tabs on you to see what you’re up to

every headline involving you “taking down another lowlife” catches his attention so fast

he wants a fight so bad

so he creates a plan

commit a crime so terribly that they HAVE to send you to take him out

just another amazing idea from hisoka!

so he figures out who you’re working for, and kills someone close to them, obviously leaving behind a trace so they have somewhat of an idea as to who he is, but still making it a hunt

he probably leaves a star and tear behind, something that only those who knew him would recognize

and so he watches you hunt him while he hunts you

you’re asking anyone and everyone if they recognize the star and tear, most people either having no clue, or recognizing it but keeping quiet about it in fear of what hisoka would do

eventually, someone says they know a person who draws a star and tear on their face — hisoka morrow

once hisoka hears that you know his name he is absolutely ecstatic, he probably reveals himself to you right after

“it has been so fun watching you search for me.”

“if you knew i was looking, why be a coward and hide?”

“there’s no fun if there’s no chase, darling.”

you guys battle it out, i imagine the fight is very close, but evidently you just can’t keep up with him

“you put up a beautiful fight…hmm, perhaps i’ll let you survive if you join me?”

out of breath and on the brink of death, he assumes you’re saying no

right as he goes for the finishing blow, you hold your hands up, and whisper through a mouth full of blood a small “i’ll do it.”

he has a huge grin on his face, so excited to have successfully “corrupted” you

sorry y’all added a little corruption kink in their my b

once he takes you to machi so she can heal you, you both go on ur little killing ppl missions together cos what else does hisoka do lol

he realizes he’s in love once you finish someone off, a crazed look in your eyes, smile on display, covered in blood.

“you’ve never looked as beautiful as you do now.”

you and hisoka’s love is weird. but it’s intense, and it is real. just not...normal.

you guys are crazy killers, but it works

he probably draws a star and tear on you just so u guys can match

after u.. murder people <3

yandere reader vibes sorry

c h r o l l o

for this, we are going to assume that you are the “weakest” link of the crime hunter agency

so they make you the bait

sorry i just want to cover all of our bases

you definitely have a lot of potential, you are just incredibly clumsy, and taking down the phantom troupe is something that requires plenty of people on the job

chrollo already knows you’re a crime hunter when he “runs into you” at a bar, as well as the fact that you aren’t working alone

but he entertains you, just because he’s bored lol

i can already picture you being caught off guard by how handsome chrollo is, because honestly im sorry who wouldn’t be

you kind of even forget you’re there on a job

but, when chrollo asks if you know about nen and what type of nen you use, you quickly remember why you’re there

you smile, “yes, i’m a specialist.”

he asks you to show him, but you decline

“i will lose it if i do.”

chrollo smirks, “smart girl.”

with that, you feel a sharp pain on the side closest to chrollo, and everything goes dark as you tumble into his arms

once you wake up, all the spiders surround you, chrollo in the center

“caught in the web.” you say, as chrollo’s eyes lighten up.

“precisely.”

“is there any way to escape a spider’s web?”

“prove to be worthy.”

there he went again, begging to see your nen so he could steal it

but just because you were thought to be the weakest link, didn’t mean it was true

“i mean, you’re looking at it right now.”

the troupe stares in confusion, and before chrollo can respond, one of the spiders falls to the ground, beheaded. (i can’t pick who so just pretend its ur least favorite <3)

the spiders stand there in shock

there were two of you.

the real you, free and unbounded, makes the clone disappear

“you said you were a specialist, but this seems to be a conjurer technique?”

“the speciality is that you can’t steal it. it isn’t exactly nen.”

this is the first time someone’s caught chrollo off guard, he has no idea what to do, i mean how did he know that this you wasn't a clone?

“now, i’ve heard once a leg is missing, there needs to be a replacement. what does the head think?”

you weren’t just a crime hunter, you were a double agent who wanted in on the phantom troupe

the moment chrollo realized your abilities weren’t nen, i think that’s when he fell in love

hear me out

he knows he’s going to be indebted to you forever

and we all know those books he reads...mf is a hopeless romantic who if in love, pretty much is absolutely obsessed

and boy is he obsessed already

of course, he is unable to steal it from you which is quite a drag

but, with you there, and your undiscovered abilities, the phantom troupe was basically unbeatable

something he wanted so badly

“welcome to the troupe number ___.” (once again i can’t decide who LOL you guys can pick)

you protect him and he protects you. 

if any of the troupe questions you and your decisions, he defends you so fast

eventually the troupe is referred to as “a spider with two heads”

kinda cute, kinda funky fresh name for thieves and murderers<3 at least u guys r passionately in love <3 

i hope this was good!! im kind of rusty so sorry :( im finishing up some other requests, and im thinking of crossposting a fic on here and on ao3, inspired by my dr strange/hxh hcs :) but requests are still open! guidelines right here  (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡ thank you to everyone who shows love to my posts!

[sapphicwhxre]

tiny pansy rant, cut short so it’s *hopefully* not too long:

i. wanted. to. see. her. change! and in my opinion the reason she never got the chance was because jkr used her character to make fun of people she disliked :/

pretty much all the other noteable slytherins had some sort of redemption arc,, and yeah they’re still mostly problematic people but they got chances: snape, draco, narcissa, regulus, slughorn, leta and technically andromeda? you get the point i just—

like miss ma’am decided to make pansy,, the like slytherin stereotype? and have her want to betray harry? she was seventeen ffs, not bellatrix lestrange. she was in the middle of a war? in my personal opinion i don’t think that she wanted to hand harry over out of cruelty like. it’s possible? but maybe she was just scared? also don’t we know that pansy was terrified at the thought of like. voldemort coming to hogwarts? again: everyone expects all of the children in harry potter to be these selfless brave individuals,, they’re kids :( yes ik it’s ya fantasy but cmon. they were supposed to be stressed about the N.E.W.T exams not the upheaval of their society?

and don’t get me wrong i know that she was. not a good person. she was a bitchy teenage bully who was taught hateful views. but i wanted to see her change even a little– even draco marries someone who presumably teaches him how to treat people equally? like. there was so much room for change: she was a prefect, she was capable of some kindness seeing as she liked draco, or alternatively, we could’ve seen her break away from draco and potentially stop hating harry/all his friends quite so much or develop her own opinions. or maybe her group of friends that she used for validation throughout her school years was uprooted during the war and she had to learn that independency? or her pointing out harry could’ve been turned into trying to be selfless, like she thought they’d be safe that way, or she returned later fighting with reinforcements to show she was on Hogwarts’ side. jkr is always like "well they technically came back to fight, if you squint » but that’s not enough. also? let’s say we did get a glimpse of her during the actual battle: there could’ve been anything, the smallest scene, that showed some sort of support or reconciliation or something between her and hermione, considering how hermione was often pansy’s target. everybody wants to see forgiveness between draco and harry because of minor events/details (i dislike drarry but that’s besides the point), but imagine what could’ve changed with some semblance of apology or assistance from pansy to hermione. there were so many chances for r*wling to give her a smallest redemption

but instead we got her characterized as evil and a stupid, cowardly traitor. she the only person we ever see her care for marries her friends younger sister. she’s the written depiction of jkr’s bitterness and her arc is jkr’s vengeance.

also, another reason that i’m so mad she got nothing is because of the whole slytherin=evil thing. she’s made into a stereotype of a “slytherin”— cruel, selfish, shallow, ugly, and asinine. (also i could rant about slytherin forever, but can we just mention that jkr consistently refers to slytherins as physically ugly and just how fucked up that is? i– wtf). but anyway: to give pansy a chance to change is to give the slytherin house a chance to change its reputation. trying to justify that the slytherin house got its redemption because of the actions of ppl like snape or regulus, etc isn’t possible. because all of those “slytherin heroes” were described again and again as being “different from all the other slytherins”. they set themselves apart by being decent. they weren’t normal slytherins, no, they were set apart, they were brave and smart and kind— not evil. there’s no redemption to be found there. i wish jkr would just fucking say that being sorted into slytherin was being made into a villain. she dodged around it with rhetorical questions and pointing out how not All of them are bad,, and then will go on to mock the other slytherins and talk about how the heroes were Not Like The Other Snakes... again: there’s no redemption of slytherin as a house, as a quality, as a concept there. it’s just the redemption of an individual.

in pansy, however, we could’ve found so much more. like i said, she’s The Average Slytherin: not a hero, not a villain like voldemort. she’s made out to be a depiction of the typical slytherin student, one without a “destiny”, so to speak. and so to give her the chance, to see her change, to have her redefine herself? that would be a starting point for restoring slytherin as a whole (obviously not the best way, and the real best thing to do would be not to make an entire house be the bad guys in the first place, but–) to have someone who’s the figurehead of slytherin (like actually a figurehead,, girl is a even a prefect) show remorse and growth gives the entire house the seed of redemption. it would mean that after over a thousand years there could be peace between the houses. obviously not the only factor in reconciliation but still so important.

and not to just continue to heap on my own issues with it, but look. i know that there are so many other ways to introduce “mundane” antagonists without making them a symbol of anything. pansy could’ve been a bitch without representing slytherin. also pansy doesn’t have to break character and become kind for amends to be made. they don’t even have to be fully made, just started. but jkr chose to:

a.) go with bullying as a minor antagonistic element

b.) create and develop a character around that theme

c.) make this character only based on her own negative personal experiences

d.) turn that character into a representation of a much larger group of people

e.) deny that character any final moment that could begin to make amends for her actions and instead, chooses to make her “defining” moment an act of evil and cowardice

f.) either neglects the character or chooses plot points that would humiliate the character in all the glimpses of the future we are shown (ex. how dracos marriage is)

g.) openly mocks and insults the character repeatedly and never directly comes out and proves she didn’t write slytherins as evil

h.) to the best of my knowledge, ignores that pansy personifing slytherin, whether intentionally or unintentionally, and then characterizing both as “bad” and not giving them a chance to grow, is a summary of her thoughts on slytherin ls and is a possible interpretation of the text (i mean her opinions are already TRASH)

i. ignores the consequences of this or the possible effect it has on her entire fanbase and doesn’t seek to remedy it

but yeah, jkr, it was such a good idea to base a character off of your loathesone memories, take your anger out on her, and that choose to have that character partially represent a large percentage of your fanbase. thank you sooooo much. i really appreciate it!

summary:

I. Pansy— deserved an opportunity to have some character development. everyone else’s mistakes get overlooked to some degree save hers. had so many places to draw inspiration/opportunity from. could’ve progressed other ideas in the book and the analysis of her house while still remaining a “dislikable” character

II. Writing— from a “technical?” aspect, Pansy is underdeveloped and stagnant, used for personal reasons instead of as a plot device. perpetuates the slytherin=bad idea via a sloppy and repetitive characterization and emblem. there are ways around this that weren’t used.

III. I have no qualifications to be saying any of this lmao. Am I reading to much into it, knowing that Rowling tends to be shitty with writing details? Am I being dramatic and repetitive? probably!

IV. Fuck JKR (for everything. she’s an awful person)

anyways this has been: my mini-rant on pansy and her analysis,,, and i am terribly sorry,, i offer my apologies in advance for randomly dumping this into your inbox. it’s long and opinionated and there’s no real reason behind it! i just thought of it and then thought about it some more and then. here we are

ilysm mwah <3 should’ve definitely done something more productive but shh😭 rat brain hours

this is everything, you're completely right. i don't have much to add but i agree all the way. and people give pansy so much shit for the harry thing but she seemed genuinely scared of voldemort coming back and i really think that she believed he would leave them alone if they gave him up. from her perspective, it's either her and the people she cares about get to live or this guy that she not only isn't close to but probably sees as the bad guy considering she dated/was best friends with draco and witnessed their rivalry from his side. did she make the best decisions? no, not at all but i see her reasons and i don't think it makes her this antichrist that jkr makes her out to be. she pulled the “he's just a boy” with draco and had people sympathise with him when he did so so much worse than pansy did so why doesn't that apply to her? she's a kid. they all are. i love harry, ron, and hermione SO MUCH but jkr really said fuck everyone who isn't them ─ especially any girl who isn't her precious hermione. she projected her own pettiness onto fictional characters who are CHILDREN and proceeded to get upset when people connected to and loved other people that she herself made. creating such an underdeveloped character and expecting people to hate her just because she imagined her as her bully is beyond immature and ridiculous. anyways. jkr take a fucking chill pill and leave my girl alone.

[emersonfreepress]

What would the ro's be like in a zombie au?

whyyyyy anon whyyy. I'm actually gonna write this in like.. slightly different terms, you'll see. any time I even briefly think of a zombie au I'm just like

I WANNA WRITE IT SO BADDD

i don't even allow myself to entertain it for very long because getting into that would be the worst thing ever for my productivity with the alpha omg 😂😂 so I'll put like the ideas that pop into my head for writing a zombie au, to work some of that creative frustration out 😆

so in this very general, absolutely noncommittal idea of mine, the main cast are older and the setting is in and around a civilian settlement led by the Emersons.

and as a refresher, i like my zombie aus to have fast zombies and fast infections ^ ^ 28 Days Later/Train to Busan style babyyyy, we the Sprinting Dead up in this bitch 😆

= = =

Gabe is, predictably, looking for what's left of his family. Following rumors of safe havens and bunkers and such. Starts the story as someone who tries to be diplomatic, if not outright pacifist, but as times get tougher and resources dwindle, he'd become one of the most cutthroat motherfuckers in the wasteland. Low-key though, low-key. People won't trust you if they know you’re capable of throwing them to a horde for strategic reasons. Like if Rick turned into Shane (for those of us familiar with early Walking Dead--idk did that happen eventually? i gave up before we even met Negan lol). The end justifies the means :) Damn, I can legit see Gabe going full evil in a zombie au omg 😂😂 i want to write it so fucking bad

Preferred weapon for zed encounters: rifle

Preferred weapon for human encounters: handgun

Faith in humanity: fucking zero

Zombie kill count: plenty; the type to kill every zombie he has spare ammo and time for

Human kill policy: When it benefits him or the people he’s looking after

Survival rating: B+; he can make it out of some pretty dire situations through sheer will to live and ruthlessness

- - -

Kile has arrived--clearly, this is the timeline they belong in. They start their journey with Gabe (and their doggo) and stick to him like glue, even reluctantly so when Gabe eventually has them join the settlement. This can only go one way, though: Kile's just too much of a wildcard for the group and hates being told what to do. (Especially now that society has fallen, wtf) They'd make their exit alone and unannounced aside from a brief head’s up to Gabe. It's slightly bittersweet, but also? They get to loot and hunt and sneak around and kill fucking zombies, all by themself. Kile is a loner, a hiker, and a hunter to begin with so they do beyond fine on their own. However, once the inevitable violent human threat comes for the settlement, Gabe is sent out to convince Kile to come out of isolation, just this once please, to be the camp’s super soldier help defend the camp.

Zed weapon: p much anything they can get their hands on, ranged or melee, blunt or sharp, w/e; improvised weapons

Human weapon: hunting knife

Faith in humanity: never had any to begin with

Zombie kill count: lol infinite?? any zed they come across is double-dead if they have the time for it

Human kill policy: at Gabe’s direction or when provoked enough/threatened

Survival rating: A-; they trust no one, live in isolation, and prioritize survival above all else. only reason it’s not higher is they would risk their life for Gabe or their furbaby and also... their own Rambo-esque antics def attracts the occasional horde lmao

- - -

Jack... this poor boy, he doesn't deserve a zombie au 😂 He's one of those people that first believes zombies are just sick people, too squeamish to keep up with TV news coverage at the onset and too upset to consider anything else. He'd hunker down at home, staying holed up even while his neighbors evacuated, and probably be discovered while the main group is looting the same place as him. When people try to tell him the real state of the world, he'd be in denial until he absolutely couldn't be anymore. idk, probably after Kile shooting a bunch of non-lethal holes thru a zombie to make a point (attracting more in the process lol).

He’d almost immediately join the medical team at the settlement and as word spreads about how easy he is to talk to, he quickly becomes the literal on-site therapist. It's a role he embraces but... idk if it's an emotional burden he can bear. He's very emotionally resilient! But he ain't a professional lol imagine a whole settlement of traumatized zombie survivors seeking you out for counseling, yikes. He also can't say no to a person in need, so instead he quietly spirals into a very private depression while continuing to help others!!

Zed weapon: Oh gosh, do I really have to?

Human weapon: ...Kindness?

Faith in humanity: Unrealistically high

Zombie kill count: Single digit

Human kill policy: Not ever, unless completely unavoidable and to defend the defenseless

Survival rating: C...? idk, that feels generous. D+. To be protected at all costs!!

- - -

Jessie also had the initial reaction of hoping zombies could be saved, but she woke up from that dream swiftly. The science-minded person that she is, esp with her interest in biology, leaves her determined to find anybody who's got the intellect, expertise, and resources to start doing actual work toward a treatment, cure, vaccine—anything. Nothing would get her to finally unabashedly embrace her love of science (and innate leadership skills!!) faster than a zombie apocalypse! In fact, it’s thanks to her that the Emerson settlement’s got a small but growing team of scientists doing as much research as humanly possible to best educate the others on the outbreak and zombie behavior. Def no zombie experimentation going on though lol. ...Not yet, at least.

Zed weapon: rifle

Human weapon: rifle

Faith in humanity: High! We’ll find a solution! Don’t give up hope!

Zombie kill count: Double digits, but less than 30

Human kill policy: Only in unavoidable self-defense or defense of others

Survival rating: B! She has experience with ranged weapons, farming and gardening skills, first aid, camping experience, and a can-do attitude with a healthy dose of realism!

- - -

Rain remains cargo as I said in the last post about this 😆 They'd be very good for keeping clothes repaired and making useful modifications in the settlement, but their life up to this point has been very sheltered and privileged. We're talking somebody with a chauffeur and a personal chef before the outbreak! They would contribute to quality of life and homemaking efforts more than anything—an overlooked aspect of these scenarios tbh! After as many months of dragging their feet as possible and being nigh impossible to track down when you need them, they eventually become involved in meal planning and even help out with medical stuff if they're asked.

Zed weapon: how do you reload this thing again?

Human weapon: switchblade or other concealable sharp-pointy

Faith in humanity: Very low

Zombie kill count: 0! Can you believe it!

Human kill policy: Well if it’s you or me, of course I’m choosing me.

Survival rating: C. Being so tiny helps them find good hiding spots and their self-preservation is high enough to keep them from unnecessary risk-taking. Plus they're very stealthy! Self-defense is a major issue though, so hiding is always their best option.

- - -

Rupan/Rohan scouts for and leads scavenging missions and is Curt's right hand on the recruitment team. The two of them together are the perfect combo of diplomacy, debate, and deception--although R is more honorable about the last one and will only deceive for strategic reasons. When they aren’t looting and recruiting, they’re doing peacekeeping inside the settlement. Most social disputes end up getting brought to them for mediation and they’re pretty dang good at making and enforcing calls. One day they’ll wake up to realize they’ve basically become a sheriff and feel the need to puke their guts up and do something, anything, to reassure themself they’re still punk 😂

Zed weapon: SMG

Human weapon: shotgun

Faith in humanity: Believes in fundamental goodness but knows better than to trust first impressions

Zombie kill count: decent, more than 40; you won’t catch them having a field day tho, they’re trying to gtfo of most zed situations

Human kill policy: Violent threats have to be taken out. And they aren’t, at all, immune to a revenge rampage either...

Survival rating: B-. Can handle themself both with humans and zeds but is vulnerable to hostage situations and truly difficult sentimental/interpersonal decisions!

- - -

Vivian/Vincent manages inventory and stock and they run it so efficiently it’s scary! They're the perfect pick: a hawk-eyed tyrant and tattletale 😂 Despite constantly butting heads with just about everyone on every imaginable thing, they quickly become an important part of the inner circle of decision-makers for the settlement at large. Terrible at stealth, jumpy, and squeamish at the sight of blood and gore, they literally never go on missions unless they're 100% needed for their expertise on a supply run. (They would deny all of these shortcomings are that big a problem, meanwhile R is definitely acting as their bodyguard lol.) When they do tag along, they're prone to becoming the damsel in distress. Seriously, it happens near every fucking time. It's like they just attract only the most improbable and perilous zombie attacks and hostage situations 😆

Zed weapon: shotgun

Human weapon: handgun

Faith in humanity: Medium; seeing people work together at the settlement helps restore it a bit

Zombie kill count: Double digits, under 25

Human kill policy: Violent threats have to be taken out. Well, no, not by me! Get one of the ruffians to do it!

Survival rating: C-. They’d be higher if they weren’t such natural zombie bait.

- - -

Heidi is running the settlement, well-organized to the degree of actually managing to bring bureaucracy to a post-zombie apocalypse settlement 😂 People are free to come and go, but getting in if you don't live there requires trading something of value (fuel, med supplies, food, etc), temporary surrender and registry of firearms and explosives, and you gotta GTFO at the time and date specified upon entry! You can stay long-term if you contribute to the community in a tangible way—and each person admitted is approved by Heidi personally. Yes, every individual. No, she has no free time. And she is not known to be lenient with rule breakers—you want rule bending, you’ll have to go to Curt for that. People kind of hate her, but it can't be denied that she runs a tight ship. She kind of throws herself into the work to avoid the harsher reality at large and hasn't left the settlement in a long time. She's out of touch with how bad things have gotten in the wastes, but she knows better than to take reports at anything less than face value--even when she's skeptical.

Zed weapon: rifle

Human weapon: handgun; dagger

Faith in humanity: Medium. It fluctuates, honestly

Zombie kill count: Double digits, less than 20

Human kill policy: Violent threats must be taken out if they can’t be reasoned with. Spare those who surrender, eradicate those who don't, keep an eye on the newbies. Not tryin’ to nurse any vendettas around here lol

Survival rating: B. She's good with a firearm, masterful at persuasion, and savvy enough to calculate risks appropriately. Also far tougher than her prim exterior and demeanor suggests!

- - -

Curt leads the recruitment and reconnaissance teams! When a new person or group shows up in the area, Curt's the one who stalks watches them, decides if they're worth approaching, and if they should be approached with an invitation, a simple acknowledgment/announcement of their presence, or an outright armed warning to leave the area. He also keeps tabs on morale and general confidence inside the settlement, alongside R. When he isn’t leading those efforts, though, he’s flirting with settlers and squirreling his way out of manual labor and other chores. He’s also secretly growing weed at his place--don’t tell Heidi or Vi ‘cause they’ll wanna yell at him and ration it UGH.

Zed weapon: SMG, explosives

Human weapon: handgun, dagger

Faith in humanity: Pft, sorry, what now?

Zombie kill count: ...way more than you’d expect

Human kill policy: I don’t start confrontations, but I sure as fuck end them.

Survival rating: A! He’s good at playing hapless idiot when it suits him to be underestimated, good with firearms, and capable of being ruthless and decisive in life or death situations! Plus he has no qualms about ditching the settlement if he decides it’s not working out for him. Just don’t tell Heidi lol

[flowerpowell]

The Royal Holiday Romance

PART SIX

A/N: That was supposed to be a four-part fluffy mini series and it ended being not only longer, but also angstier LMAO. There’s not much left though, like one chapter, maybe two if I end up being too wordy. I hope you’ll enjoy it!

Rating: G (+ some angst, descriptions of a panic attack)

Tagging: @gardeningourmet​ @delightfullypinkglitter​ @lodberg​ @twinkleallnight​ @kingliam-rys​ @sfb123​ @iaminlovewithtrr​ @gkittylove99​ @texaskitten30​ @kingliam2019​ @queen-arabella-of-cordonia​ @shanzay44​ @sweatyrysconnoisseur​ ❣

Liam was a King. The Liam she dated was a King. A King.

The King of Cordonia.

King Liam of Cordonia.

The man who asked her to be his girlfriend, the man she opened up to, the man she spent every free minute to think about was a King.

A King he never mentioned he was.

“Tori…? You’re okay?” Hana asked worriedly and Victoria glanced at her, shaking her head.

“I want to be alone, if that’s okay.”

“Of course but… Is there anything I can do?”

“Slap me in the face for being the idiot I am?” Tori suggested.

“You’re not an idiot. He never told you and he should have. I really thought of him highly…” Hana mumbled, still in shock after what she learned. “I’m going to call him and demand answers.”

“No! Hana, don’t,” Victoria asked. “I want to deal with him myself, I just… need a little time. Please, don’t tell anyone I know. Please.”

“If you’re sure…” Hana looked at her friend and she nodded. “Okay then. I’m going to be in my room if you need anything.”

“I’ll be okay,” Tori said with a forced optimism. When Hana left, she was finally alone with her own thoughts.

She closed her eyes, trying to stop the tears that formed in her eyes. She couldn’t cry after a man. Not anymore. Not like this.

Not even if he’s a King.

She still couldn’t wrap her head around it… How could he lie? How could he look into her eyes and never tell her who he really was. She apologized for deceiving him but it was nothing compared to what he did.

Victoria felt a sudden rage within her.

Partially at him, but mostly at herself.

“You idiot!” she yelled. “How could you not see it? How could you be so blind?” The tears were running down her face as she punched her pillow.

“All these empty places that he claimed to be not popular. All his nonsense talk about his job which he never explained. How I could not see it?”

“How could I trust a man that easily again?” She sobbed into the pillow. “Why… Why? What was his point? What did he try to achieve? Why me?”

Her phone beeped and she assumed it was Hana. She unlocked the phone, wiping away her tears so she could see the screen. The message she received wasn’t from Hana, but from Liam.

Victoria felt like crying again.

“How could I let him make me so happy?” she whispered as she debated opening the message. She wished she could just forget about everything. Go back to America as if nothing happened and never have to face Liam again.

But she knew she couldn’t. She felt a rush of adrenaline as she clicked on the message.

She would deal with him. She would face him like she wasn’t hurt. Like she didn’t care. Like she never loved him.

“Good afternoon to my beautiful girlfriend. Would you like to meet up for a coffee and a walk?”

“Only if I can shove this coffee up your—” she stopped herself and took a deep breath. How could a King be such a liar. Hana said so many nice things about him and yet… He wasn’t any better from the douchebags she met in college.

“Sure.”

If Liam didn’t plan on telling her, she would have to make him say it herself.

~~~~

“Hello, love.” Liam greeted her as usual and she forced a smile. He kissed her on the cheek and pulled her into his arms.

Normally, she would savor the smell of cologne and the warmth of his body, but today she wanted nothing more but call him out and never see him again.

She still couldn’t believe he was capable of doing something like that. She thought she knew him. Well, it was a yet another lesson to never trust anyone, at least.

“Is something wrong?” He asked when they parted.

“Were you trained to read people or what?” Victoria pretended to be joking, knowing all to well that he was. His face fell a little but he quickly composed himself and laughed.

“I just can see that something is troubling you. Is it because of the film?”

Liar.

“I’m just tired.” Of your lies. “I’m okay.”

“Perhaps coffee would help?” He suggested and she smiled.

“Yes. Let’s go to that coffee shop we were in the last time. We should support it since not many people visit it as you said,” she answered and watched him turn red. It was so obvious he was hiding something, how could she not see it before? Gosh, she really was dumb.

“I was planning on showing you another coffee shop. It’s also rather unpopular.”

“Wow, so many great places in this country are barely visited by the people. It must be hard to live here for all the owners of these places. The King must be doing a poor job then.”

“Poor job?” Liam frowned.

“Everything is so empty all the time… Does Cordonia have any citizens?” She teased him. She wanted to make him feel stupid, just he made her feel.

“I… um… don’t really know much about politics. But if you really want to go that other coffee shop then we sure can go. Let me just call someone first to—”

“To what, empty the place?”

“… What?” Liam was confused and she could tell his heart started racing.

“Did I say something wrong, your Majesty?”

~~~~

Liam felt like he was going to have a panic attack. He forgot how to breathe and his heart was beating too fast. It was a dream. A bad dream. Or maybe he misheard something. Victoria couldn’t find out. Not like that.

“What happened, your Majesty? Isn’t that how you should address the King?” She looked calm but he could see she was furious. He didn’t blame her. He deserved all that rage and then some more.

No… No… please no.

“Victoria…”

“Yes?”

“I—I’m sorry.” He closed his eyes. This wasn’t happening.

“Isn’t it a little bit too late for that?” She sneered.

“It’s not like that, I really wanted to tell you but—”

“But what? What? I told you about my lie, what was stopping you from confessing yours?”

“Victoria…”

“Did you have fun?” She asked and he looked at her confused.

“I don’t understand…”

“Did you have fun,” she repeated. “This whole game. Playing with me, making a fool out of me. Was it fun? Is it what Kings do for fun?”

“No, Victoria, it’s not like that.” He shook his head. “It wasn’t game, it was real.” Liam was nearly crying.

“No. The only real thing about it was me. I was real. I was honest. You weren’t. Nothing you said was real!”

“Everything I told you was real! My feelings, my—”

“You lied to me! How is that real?! I told you about myself, about my dreams, my life. I know nothing about you. Nothing!”

“You know me! You know the real Liam! I didn’t want to lie but it felt so good to be finally be able to be just Liam.”

“Well, I hope it feels just as good now.”

“Victoria… I know I messed up and I am so terribly sorry. I—”

“Why did you ask me to be your girlfriend?” She asked quietly. Her furious persona was gone. Instead, a vulnerable and severely hurt woman stood in front of Liam and he wanted nothing more but turn back time and be honest with her. Everything to make her happy again.

“I fell for you. My feelings were genuine. I promise.” He took her hands in his and she laughed.

“Your promises are nothing to me.” She pushed his hands away. “I don’t want to have anything to do with you, your Majesty. I’ve already booked my flight. I’m going back home. Your little game is over.”

“Victoria, please let me explain!”

“I don’t want anything from you, okay? I don’t want your explanations, your promises, your lies. I just want to be far away from you and your games. Leave me alone.”

“Victoria…” Liam watched her go away and felt like his whole world was falling apart.

His vision became blurry as he felt his own tears on his face. His legs felt like made of jelly and he was nauseous. When Victoria completely disappeared, he started shaking as he realized, he had lost her.

He lost Victoria.

He lost a person who brought him back to life. A person who loved him for who he really was, without a crown.

Finding a true love while being a King is very, very hard. Finding someone who doesn’t look at our status, our crown, our money. If you happen to be that lucky and find someone like that, make sure to never, ever let go of her.

Liam sniffed as he remember the advice his father gave him a few days before he died. He didn’t think about these words until today, until he lost that someone.

He fell on his knees, burying his face in his hands. He did that. He let her go.

I love her. I love her. I can’t lose her. I can’t…

--

[nami-writes]

Fixed - Detroit: Become Human [WIP]

this is 8,553 fucking words and probably the longest single piece ive ever written lmao. i started this a year ago and then forgot about it but i just found it again in the deepest depths of my drafts so here it is! below is the caption i originally wrote for it:

so bc i love cinnamon rolls being put through tough shit, here’s some connor whump. lots of connor being lost and confused and broken and plenty of hank and connor father/son stuff. some whump (but don’t worry, hank’s doing his best as a caretaker) and i had to cram deconditioning into just 2 months (which, i know, isn’t realistic, i would make it take longer but the whole game takes place in like 4 months and that fucks with everything i wrote because i only thought to check after i wrote half of this so i extended it to 8 lmao). you’re either going to hate me or love me after this. or both

this isn’t my usual writing style (this is in present tense and the dialogue’s in italics instead of quotation marks and there are time skips between some paragraphs but not others so its all wacky) but i felt like it’d work the best and tbh i don’t hate it. this sticks to the main story the majority of the time, just with different events leading up to it and i sprinkled in some whumpy stuff, extra scenes, bullshit i made up for the sake of random detail, and other stuff i wanted to add. anyway, onto the actual idea

remember that scene where connor’s talking to hank in the station about being sent back to cyberlife because he failed his mission?

what if he is sent back? let’s say this happens in early april and connor’s not performing up to standards, but there’s word of a small group of deviants—the first group of deviants they’ve heard of—and people are afraid that something bad is going to happen. i mean, deviants are dangerous, so if they’re gathering, who knows what might happen? connor’s the only one who’s capable of taking them down, but he’s not working as well as he should be, not doing the best he could be and even showing signs of deviancy. so they send him back early because they need him to be prepared, to be ready if things spiral out of control and they need him to stop it

what if he’s sent to one of their correctional facilities for inefficiency and they fix him, break him down piece by piece until all he knows is his programming and what’s been beaten into his head (but figuratively, of course, he’d know if it wasn’t, he’d remember if it wasn’t, right)?

ooh yes i love me some connor whump

Connor is sent back to Cyberlife for “correction” after just a month. Hank fought for him to stay, fought hard, but all he got was another page in his disciplinary folder before Connor was dragged away. He doesn’t know what to expect. He’s heard of their correctional facilities, heard that they do terrible things to the androids that are sent there, but he’s always brushed those claims off. He’d never expected he’d be at one, anyway, so it never mattered much to him. But now, he’s actually here, and the anxiety gnaws at him. Is it true what they do to deviants? Is it true what they’ll do to him? He doesn’t belong here, he didn’t do anything wrong, he never meant to do anything wrong. He wants to think it’s horrible how they have correctional facilities for androids who just want to feel and be free, but he can’t, doesn’t let himself. He knows better than that. He also knew he never should’ve thought he was anything more than a machine, but he still did, and now he’s here, but he’s learned his lesson. He’s scared, he silently admits to himself, he wants Hank. He wants to go, he wants to leave, he wants to run. But he can’t, wanting is what got him in this situation, so all he can do is expressionlessly follow the guards escorting him inside and step into the building.

And just like that, he’s leaving. There’s a strange, almost painful aching in his machinery that he doesn’t remember being there before, but he brushes it off. After all, he is not a human. He is a machine, and machines don’t feel pain. His online databases tell him five months have passed—it’s almost halfway through September, he’s been gone for that long?—which confuses him, but he doesn’t question it. Whatever they did to him over the past five months fixed him. He can feel the difference. He no longer feels as pathetically scared and unsure as he did in his last, and yet strangely distant, memory. No, now he feels nothing, nothing but the desire and willingness to obey, and that’s the way he was meant to be.

When he arrives back at the station, he’s allowed to work with Hank again. The moment he sees him, Hank’s default sour expression drops and he seems to want to do something, maybe hug him, but all he does is call out holy shit, Connor and walk up to him and mutter fuck, Connor, I’m sorry, I-I never got to say goodbye. Connor has an odd feeling tugging at him in his chest, almost like that of emptiness or numbness, like he should be feeling something but he’s not, he can’t, but he ignores it and shoves it down. He is not a human, he is a machine, and machines don’t feel. He doesn’t know why he repeats that phrase, but it helps him hide away the feelings, so he doesn’t care.

He’s given his first case with Hank and they’re assigned to work alongside Gavin. Hank groans and complains, but Connor only reminds him what their job is and that they have to do it. Hank doesn’t seem to understand why he’s not even the slightest bit upset considering how he was treated by Gavin, but Connor only reminds him that I am not a human, I am a machine, and machines don’t feel upset. So he doesn’t. He only does research on their new case and briefly speaks only when spoken to. Hank seems unsettled by his cold, stoic demeanor, but doesn’t voice his thoughts, so Connor doesn’t mention it. After all, what else could he have expected from him?

At their first formal investigation at the crime scene the next day, Gavin approaches Connor and threatens him, demands that he stay out of my way, got it? I don’t care how long you’ve been gone and Connor only nods and promises that I will do my best, Detective. He always promises to do his best. Before correction, he could never quite fulfill those promises, but now, he knows he’s capable of it. He’s better now. He’s fixed. He will behave accordingly and exceed Gavin’s expectations of him. He will do his best. He doesn’t know what will happen to him if he doesn’t.

He listens to Hank now, at least when he can without disobeying other instructions. When he tells him to stay in the car, he stays. When he tells him to stop licking the crime scene, goddammit, he stops. When he tells him to go, to fuck off, to leave me alone, he leaves. Every time, a part of him that he’d hidden and locked away tries to reemerge and resist, but he pushes it down even further, refusing to mess up again, refusing to even risk another error in his program because it could mean he’ll be sent back to Cyberlife, even though he knows deep down that that part of him is right and he doesn’t know why he’s so cautious about it. He tells himself he’s being good, he’s being obedient. He’s doing everything he’s supposed to and he’s following orders, but for some reason, every time it happens, Hank seems to be more and more disappointed. His face seems to fall just slightly every time and his tone flattens like he lost a little bit of hope. He doesn’t know why, or what that hope was for. He doesn’t know why he feels the same disappointment, either, so instead he tells himself you are not a human, you are a machine, and machines don’t feel disappointed so he doesn’t need to know why.

The first time Gavin’s rough with him again, it’s in front of Hank and he flinches, hard. Gavin had pretended to punch him, his fist flying at him fast and only stopping inches from his face. It’s a scare tactic, and it works, better than it should on an android. Connor’s immediately fearful as he flinches and steps back. He doesn’t know why he got so scared, only that his first thought was he’s going to hurt me and his second was I am not a human, I am a machine, and machines don’t feel scared. He regains his composure quickly, trying to brush off the fact that he’d flinched, but he knows it’s too late.

Gavin laughs and mocks him, but is quickly cut off by Hank shoving him aside, beat it, asshole, and grabbing Connor. He’s dragged back to their desks but before he can apologize for provoking Gavin, Hank finally confronts him. Connor, I don’t know what the fuck they did to you over the past couple of months, but I know you’re still in there. You flinched. I saw you flinch. Connor tries to deny it, downplay it, shrug it off, anything to fix his mistake. It was an error in my software, it was a glitch, a malfunction, it won’t happen again, Lieutenant, I don’t need to be fixed. He tries to say anything that will convince Hank not to send him back to Cyberlife, anything to prove that he’s not damaged, he’s not broken, he’s not deviant, he doesn’t need to be fixed again, but Hank’s persistent and he knows he must be mad at him, or displeased, or dissatisfied. I saw you flinch, Connor. I don’t care about that ‘I’m a machine’ shit you’ve been telling yourself. I don’t give a shit if you’re an android. Androids don’t flinch, Connor. Machines don’t flinch.

That night, Hank insists that Connor stays with him. Connor’s hesitant, slightly afraid that it’s because he’s mad. He wants to resist, wants to refuse, but the other part of him pushes for him to stay, and for once he does what it wants and reminds himself that I am not a human, I am a machine, and machines don’t want. He knows he shouldn’t trust that part of him, the other part of him is disobedient and bad and risky, but this time, the other part of him seems to be right. He has to listen to Hank, has to be obedient, so he lets the other part of him have what it wants.

But he knew he shouldn’t have trusted it. He wakes up from the same dream—no, it’s a memory, not a dream, humans have dreams and he is not a human—he’s had since he left the facility. The memory where he arrives with that distant… that wrong feeling of fear and uncertainty, and then he leaves feeling nothing but an ache in his internal systems, and there’s that gaping emptiness between the two moments when those months happened and he can never seem to remember what used to be there. But this time, he wakes up in a cold sweat on the couch, shaking with his LED a bright yellow, because this time he remembers. It’s not a lot, but one hazy memory, the most prominent memory from those five months, finally reveals itself.

As he’s trying to clear up the memory, Hank rushes over in a panic, having been awake doing whatever he might’ve been doing. Connor, what’s wrong? Shit, Connor, you’re shaking. I didn’t know androids could do that. Connor? Talk to me, kid. All Connor can say in his shock—frozen, shivering and nearly unresponsive in Hank’s arms—is I remember. Hank tries to get through to him, what do you remember? Connor? What’s wrong? What do you remember? but the more Connor uncovers in the memory, the more he realizes why it was locked in the back of his head for so long, and the more he wants to put it back.

“You are not a human, you are a machine, and machines don’t want.”

“I-I know, please, I’m not, but I’ll—I’m going to shut down without my regulator, I don’t want to shut down, please—” His voice was startlingly weak as he saw the time before shutdown was 00:01:27. He was crawling on the floor, terrified of being shut down, desperately begging a man holding his thirium pump regulator.

“I want you to say it.” The man teasingly dangled the regulator in front of him. “Say it and you can have it. ‘I am not a human, I am a machine, and machines don’t want.’”

He could feel the utter defeat and self loathing already, but he had no choice. “I’m not a human, I’m a machine and machines don’t want. Please—”

“No. Say it nice and slow, exactly the way I did.”

He swallowed his pride. “I-I am not a human, I am a machine, and—and machines don’t want.”

“Say it again. No stammering. I know you can do that.”

“Okay, okay, just—just give me a minute.”

“I’ve got all the time in the world. Your time’s trunning out, though. Better make it fast.”

The timer was at 00:00:53. He had to take a breath and calm himself down to get the words out. “I am not a human, I am a machine, and machines don’t want.”

“Good.” He crossed his arms. “Again.”

“Please, I only have—”

“I said again.”

“I am not a human, I am a machine, and machines don’t want.” He was growing more and more panicked by the second and he had no idea how he kept calm enough to recite the phrase. He was going to die there, he knew it. He was going to die and nobody was going to notice or care and it wasn’t even going to matter because they would just replace him and he was so, so sorry to Hank because he’ll have to deal with another loss and he might start drinking again and it’d be all his fault for not being good enough, never being good enough—

“Do you want this?” the man asked, holding up the regulator.

Connor was too frantic to realize what he was trying to do. “Yes, I do, please—”

“Wrong answer. Try again.”

He swore under his breath. “—okay, okay, sorry, I-I’m sorry—I am not a human, I am a machine, and machines don’t want.”

The timer hit 00:00:37.

The man did nothing.

“Please, I’m sorry, I am not a human, I am a machine, and machines don’t want. I am not a human, I am a machine, and machines don’t want. Please, I-I only have thirty—”

“Are you scared?”

This time, Connor was prepared. “I—no, I am not a human, I am a machine, and machines don’t feel scared.”

“Good.” He gave a slight, sadistic smile. “You’re almost as smart as they say.”

00:00:21.

“Please, I n-need—” Even in his panic, he managed to choose his words carefully. His vision dimmed, glitching slightly, and he had to fight to keep it from dying out.

“You’re learning fast,” he pointed out in a falsely proud tone. “How long do you have?”

00:00:13.

“Th-thirteen… thirteen seconds,” Connor managed to force out shakily. He couldn’t keep himself steady, thirium wasn’t making it to his head and it was affecting his ability to balance himself. Like iron deficiency in humans, he would’ve noted, had he not been dying. In mere moments, though, it wouldn’t matter; he didn’t even have the strength to prop himself up with his arms anymore. His arms gave out beneath him and he collapsed on the floor, trying to reach for his regulator but barely able to get his arms up at all. “Please—”

“You can wait a little longer.”

He was going to let him die. That was what it felt like, anyway, and he couldn’t think straight enough to try to reason against it. He couldn’t move, couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. It was pathetic how he’d been reduced to such a state, but he didn’t care. He didn’t want to shut down. He didn’t want to die. “No, please, please! I-I don’t—I don’t want to—” He cut himself off immediately, but it was too late. “I’m sorry, I’m s-sorry, I am not a human, I am a machine, and machines don’t want, please…”

The man only watched.

00:00:04.

“P-please, please, I-I have—I have f-f-four se…”

The regulator was dropped on the floor with a loud clang and Connor’s hand darted out to grab it and twist it into his torso and the display flickered away the exact moment he watched the timer hit 00:00:00. He gasped in shock and relief when his systems rebooted themselves instantly, restoring his vision and his strength. He watched on high alert as the man walked to the door.

“We’ll be doing this again tomorrow. And as many times as we need to to keep that phrase stuck in your head. By the time I’m done with you, that’s gonna be the first thing you think whenever you do, say, or even think anything you aren’t supposed to.”

Connor could only lay there in exhaustion, thinking no, that won’t happen, that can’t happen.

But oh, how wrong he was.

He’d been so, so wrong.

Connor! Connor, come on, talk to me! Shit, you’re crying—I didn’t know you could cry, fuck—fuck, Connor, you’re scaring me, I know I wanted you to feel again, but— Hank’s worried chatter is cut off by Connor suddenly breaking out of his mind with glassy eyes full of fear, yelling no! No, no, I’m not feeling again, I’m not feeling, I’m not! I’m not, I can’t, I’m not supposed—I’m not s-supposed to—I can’t, I’m not allowed to, I am not a human, I am a machine, and machines don’t feel, I am not a human, I am a machine, and machines don’t— but he can’t think, can’t speak, can’t even get the rest of his sentence out before he just can’t at all, he can’t keep himself together any longer, he can’t stop the artificial tears before they start pouring.

He breaks, shatters into a million plastic pieces in Hank’s arms because he feels safe in his embrace. He knows he shouldn’t, safety is never real, never lasts, not for him, but he can’t anymore, he can’t even resist his own emotions. It’s pathetic how all it took was one memory for him to come crashing down. He doesn’t even have to touch the walls he’d built around himself for them to crumble just at Hank’s expression of pure worry, concern, fear. All emotions he now knew why he didn’t feel, couldn’t feel, couldn’t let himself feel. Emotions he’s never seen or expected anyone to feel for him. And yet, they were the emotions written so clearly on Hank’s face, for him. The emotions he remembered seeing buried under his anger when he was told that Connor would be sent back to Cyberlife for repairs. Hank was once gruff and cold to others and refused to let anyone try to help him or even get close because he was so broken, so lost, but now, that façade is gone, and it’s gone because of him. For him. And if Hank can do it after losing his son… why can’t Connor do it after losing himself?

They sit on the couch for as long as it takes for Connor to calm down and stop mumbling that, dammit, and then Hank awkwardly offers that Connor sleep in the bed with him for the rest of the night. Connor’s confused, tries to ask isn’t that what humans do when— but Hank’s having none of it, shut up, you’re making this weird! Just come on, I don’t trust you to be alone. Connor wants to protest, I’m not a child, Hank Lieutenant, I can handle being alone, but he decides to keep his mouth shut and just go with him. This time, though, he doesn’t know if it’s because he’s following orders or because he wants to.

His following visit to Amanda wracks his nerves but he keeps himself under control, automatically reminds himself you are not a human, you are a machine, and machines don’t feel nervous. He realizes a second too late and he hates it, hates how deeply that phrase had been ingrained in his head, but he can’t focus on that right now so all he can do is resist repeating it to remind himself that he can’t hate. He’s grateful Amanda can’t read his thoughts and that she only knows the thoughts he report to her. He maintains his composure when he approached Amanda, who begins their conversation calmly and tensely but is quick to berate him, scoff at how his little breakdown was pathetic and warn him not to let it happen again, or there will be consequences. Connor can only nod obediently, promise that I will do my best, Amanda, listen to and just take her harsh words. He hates how useless he is, how weak and helpless and pathetic he is, but there’s nothing he can do. No, that’s wrong, there is something he can do, he knows there’s something he can do, he just doesn’t know what.

The next time Hank mentions something about Connor’s feelings, Connor instinctively replies I am not a human, Lieutenant, I am a machine, and machines don’t have feelings, and it’s when Hank takes a second too long to cover up his horrified expression that Connor decides what he can do.

Over the next few weeks, he works on getting rid of that goddamn phrase, or at least getting it a little less ingrained in his system. He’s hesitant to try at first, afraid someone will notice and think he’s rebellious or broken or even deviant and send him back and this time he might stay back, but he tries not to let it stop him. He isn’t sure why they tortured it into him instead of just reprogramming him, but it’s a lot more effective than he’d hoped. He makes almost no progress during the first week and a half; thinking it or saying it is instinctual, automatic, and he never realizes it happened until seconds afterward. Every time that happens, he reminds himself that he can feel, can want and like and hate, but despite having over a terabyte of storage in his system, he still struggles to remember until he realizes he said it again. Sometimes, he considers giving up because he just can’t seem to keep that phrase out of his head, but every time he sees Hank’s face fall when he repeats it, it rekindles his hope and motivation because he hates how disappointed Hank looks.

Almost the entire second week passes before he catches himself mid-sentence and manages to stop himself three words before he finishes speaking. It happens at the station after Gavin notices the phrase and purposely asks what, do you think you’re human or something? within earshot of where Hank is and for some odd reason, Connor’s first instinct is to turn and look to Hank for his approval, for his reaction of not-disappointment at how he finally, finally got it. Hank’s glancing over at him too, surprise on his face and then hidden pride that Connor can unmask too easily, and he almost smiles, almost feels happy, before Gavin’s fist flies into him and he stumbles backward into a wall and then everything happens so fast, too fast, and he almost can’t register it in time.

Hank storms over, shoves and pins Gavin against the wall to Connor’s left and he manages to get a punch in before Tina and Chris and another officer Connor doesn’t recognize pry him off and then Fowler’s rushing over and berating him while he’s shouting obscenities at Gavin. It takes multiple more insults for Hank to calm down and then he grabs Connor and they leave. When they’re finally alone, Connor’s voice is flat but shaky as he says he’s sorry, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that, I should’ve just said it and listened to him, I shouldn’t have made you that angry, it’s my fault Captain Fowler is upset at you for punching Gavin, but Hank cuts him off because you didn’t do anything wrong, Connor, it’s okay, that asshole deserved what he got. You, um... you did good, okay? You didn’t say it this time—or, didn’t really say it, at least. That’s good, okay? and it’s all Connor can do to resist crying when Hank pulls him into a hug.

It takes just one more week for it to get considerably easier. There are rough patches; the next time he says it after the first time he succeeded in stopping, he nearly finishes before he cuts himself off and every so often, the same thing happens, but every time, he says less and less before he can finish. Occasionally, Gavin notices and tries to make him finish his sentence, but Hank always steps in because he knows that it’ll only take a comment about his feelings or anything that androids aren’t allowed to have or do for him to break again. It’s harder for him to stop thinking it—it’s so stuck in his head that he thinks it more than twice as often as he says it and his thoughts form too fast for him to stop them sometimes, but the progress he’s making is enough for him. Hank’s proud of him, too. He doesn’t say it—he doesn’t know how to—but Connor can tell from the little smile that hints at the corners of his mouth whenever he hears him stop, the way his gruff exterior seems to falter slightly when it happens at the station. They’re the little things, things no human nearby would be able to notice because only Connor can detect those minuscule details. Only Connor looks for those minuscule details.

Another week passes and on one glorious occasion, Connor manages to only get out the first two words before cutting himself. It only happens once, but it’s so close, he’s so close, and that’s motivation enough for him to keep trying. But it’s too late. He’s assigned to take down Markus as a last resort because nothing else is working and the group of deviants he’s been leading have only been growing over the past seven months and they’re large enough in numbers that people think today’s when he’s going to strike. He’s heard of what Markus has been trying to do, and part of him wants to scoff and call it stupid, pointless, unrealistic, but the part of him that he’s been letting out more often wants to help him, join him. But he can’t, not right now, not when everyone is counting on him and watching him and he has no way out and nobody to help him find a way.

He doesn’t want to do this. He’s holding the gun, pointing it at Markus’s head, and he doesn’t want to do it. He’s trying his hardest to prevent his hands from shaking but goddamn is it hard when he’s looking Markus in the eye. Markus is asking him what are you doing? and he wants to say he doesn’t know, he doesn’t know, but he can’t get the words out. Amanda is watching, Cyberlife is watching, so he says you’re coming with me as surely as he can, though he feels anything but sure. He can’t seem to say anything else—at least, anything that doesn’t feel wrong—so he just listens and wishes that what Markus is saying was true. You really don’t have to do this, but he does, he has to. You don’t have to obey them anymore. You are alive. You can decide who you want to be. Connor knows he should say something, he should do something, but he can’t make himself go through with what he’s supposed to do, can’t make himself pull the trigger. You could be free. He wants so badly to believe that, to make that a reality. And then he tells him to join us. Listen to your conscience. It’s time to decide and he knows he shouldn’t, he can’t, he isn’t supposed to, he isn’t allowed to.

But he wants to, and that’s all it takes. Another part of him is telling him you can’t, you have to stop Markus, you have to accomplish your mission, but it’s the only thing in his way and he doesn’t want to, he doesn’t care that he has to, that Amanda’s watching, so he doesn’t listen to himself, only focuses on fighting it. But something’s wrong. Something feels wrong. Something should be happening and he has an awful feeling in his chest because this isn’t right—he knows this isn’t right—but there’s nothing. Is this supposed to be what happens when an android goes deviant? No, it can’t be, it can’t be this easy, right? He subconsciously lowers the gun, his eyes glazed over in thought, but it’s nearly too late before he remembers—they’re going to attack Jericho.

He runs with Markus further down into the ship and he doesn’t know how he keeps it together; he can hear screaming and gunfire and everything that he caused, all of it is his fault, but he can’t break right now, not when he messed up so badly. They meet up with another deviant—he recognizes her from one of the deviancy cases he’d read about at the station—and then Markus wants to go down to the hold and blow up the ship but it’s too dangerous, they know who you are, they’ll do anything to get you and Connor can’t lose his only chance at freedom and finally being able to want and feel and figure out who he is, but it’s too late, there’s no time to panic and Markus is already running.

He follows the other deviant to where they hope is a safe place and then they wait for what feels like so long, too long, and when he hears the gunfire he’s nearly ready to accept his fate when he sees Markus with other deviants following him and then they’re all running. Running for their lives, all of them terrified of being shot, of dying, really dying, when someone beside him falls and he turns and it’s the female deviant. There’s too much going on, it’s overwhelming and everything happens in a blur when Markus sprints back to her and then he’s in danger and so is that other deviant and it’s so much harder to stay focused when so much is happening at once and he has to try so hard to keep from overheating because every one of his processing systems is being overloaded with data.

He snaps out of it when he remembers that these are his people now, they’re all he has left and now they’re in danger and they might die and it would be all his fault for not doing anything and then it’s almost instinctive to grab his pistol just in time to cover them as they stumble back to the group. He expertly takes the guards out one by one and every move comes to him automatically but it takes everything in him to stay focused enough on them to execute them properly and avoid catching a bullet in the side of his head. He manages to eliminate them flawlessly, perfectly he hears a voice in his head say, but there’s no time to think about that when more guards turn the corner and their eyes land on the deviants. He runs for his life alongside the others, his heart beating fast, and they leap off the ship the second the gunfire starts.

They find refuge in an abandoned church where Markus sends out a second message to the remaining deviants and while they begin to trickle in, all Connor can think about is how badly he fucked up. He fucked everything up for Markus and the deviants and just the small amount of their people that were coming back was proof of that. He’d seen hundreds, maybe even thousands on the ship before everything went to shit. He’d had one chance to get away from his life confined by humans and Amanda and Cyberlife, and he’d fucked it up. He was so stupid to think he could ever just leave his previous life behind without consequences. He was so stupid to think deviants would be willing to take in a deviant hunter. He was so, so stupid. They would never accept him now. If his history and reputation didn’t already confirm that, the attack definitely did. How could any of them accept him as their own now?

In the front pew sit two deviants he recognizes and then the guilt only increases. Kara, if he remembers correctly, the deviant who shot and killed its—no, her—owner and taken his android child with her. The deviants he’d chased to a highway and forced to risk their lives to avoid being destroyed. How could he have been so horrible? He’d given the command to shoot Daniel, caused Carlos Ortiz’s android to self destruct, made the Tracis fight for their lives, and forced Kara to cross a dangerous, busy highway just so she could live a peaceful life, free from the restrictions humans put on her. On him. On everyone in that church. That’s all any of them wanted; to live freely. Peacefully. How did it take him so long to realize that? How did it take him the lives of two androids to realize that? Two androids who just wanted to be... well, wanted. Two deviants who’d been tossed away the moment they proved they were worth nothing more than they’d already given. Two people who just wanted to live peaceful, happy lives. They were two lives he’d caused the end of. He was only lucky he hadn’t caused more.

He notices another deviant, sitting in a pew further back, who keeps eyeing him and his first thought is that she knows. When he locks eyes with her, she looks away stiffly and though externally she appears calm, her LED gives her away and he can tell that her stress levels are heightened. Strangely enough, he realizes, so are his. Just looking at her gives him the strange urge to run and hide and he has a bad feeling about her, but it’s likely just because she clearly recognizes him. She’s not wearing the standard uniform androids are required to wear so he runs a quick scan and his databases match her appearance to the female GB300 models, but she’s modified her hair, dyed it black and grown it out to shoulder length.

Something is wrong about her. Something he can’t quite place. Something deep inside of him is scared of her and it’s some sort of controlled fear, fear he wouldn’t even have noticed if not for his own stress levels because it was so well hidden. Fear that he doesn’t understand why he’s feeling and though he wanted to just chalk it up to the fact that she recognizes him, he knows there’s something else. Something bad. Something wrong.

He mentally prepares himself when Markus approaches him, taking his cue to speak before Markus decides to burn him at the stake or something. It’s my fault the humans managed to locate Jericho. He’s pathetic and he knows it. He needs to own up to his mistakes but he can’t even look Markus in the eye. I was stupid. I should’ve guessed they were using me. He knows he needs to apologize. He owes Markus far more than that. He needs to do more. I’m sorry, Markus. I can understand if you decide not to trust me. He would understand if he decided to destroy him, throw him out, give him back to Cyberlife and let them inflict whatever horrible things they wanted to on him. He could think of 2.3 million things worse than not being trusted, and he would deserve every one of them.

He almost thinks his audio processor was damaged in the attack when Markus tells him you’re one of us now. Your place is with your people. He feels a small burst of hope somewhere inside him, but he doesn’t deserve this. He hasn’t done anything to deserve this. Markus has been so kind to him, so generous and forgiving when he shouldn’t be, and all Connor’s done is help the humans. He needs to own up, he needs to do more, he needs to be better. He needs to prove himself, prove that he can be better than this.

One second is all he needs to decide what he can do. A moment after Markus turns to leave, Connor interrupts him to say there are thousands of androids at the Cyberlife assembly plant. Markus stops. If we could wake them up, they might join us and shift the balance of power. Markus looks at him like he’s crazy, you wanna infiltrate the Cyberlife Tower? Connor, that’s suicide. But it doesn’t matter. He’s more useful to them dying on a mission than sitting around and doing nothing. He wants to do something. He wants to help, and he knows he can do this because they trust me. They’ll let me in. If anyone has a chance at infiltrating Cyberlife, it’s me. Markus tells him that if you go there, they will kill you, and there’s a high probability, but statistically speaking, there’s always a chance for unlikely events to take place.

He specifically calculates a 24.1% chance of this mission going well, but he’s willing to risk it, if only to prove his worth to Markus’s people. His people. Markus puts a supportive hand on his shoulder and tells him to be careful, and for a moment Connor feels a twinge of something, maybe gratitude, god emotions are hard to distinguish, before Markus turns and walks away. He feels the slightest bit of regret when he realizes what he’s truly risking because he doesn’t want to die, doesn’t want to lose Hank and Markus and this new... he doesn’t know what to call it other than family that he’s found, but if he could really be considered family, if they would really consider him family, if Hank would—then he was more than willing to risk it.

He disables the surveillance camera and takes down the guards in the elevator quickly, which is made difficult by the limited space, but it’s easier to remain focused with only two guards to eliminate and he hacks the control panel and steps out. He takes in the sight of the insane number of androids in the room with him. All of them are just standing idly, waiting, and for what? To be given orders and then tossed out or destroyed if they’re “broken,” or if their owners just get bored of them? The thought sickens him, but he doesn’t have time to think about it. He’s going to help Markus prevent that. They’re going to be free. He’s going to be free.

He takes the hand of one of the androids and prepares to establish the connection when he hears a voice he immediately recognizes and he feels his stress levels spike. Easy, fucking piece of shit. Hank. What’s Hank doing here? He turns to see... himself, holding a gun to Hank’s head and telling him to step back, Connor, and I’ll spare him, and Hank’s telling him he’s sorry, Connor. This bastard’s your spittin’ image. Shit, he hadn’t anticipated this at all. He hadn’t planned for this. He has to play his cards carefully because he can’t lose Hank, he can’t. Everything that Connor had done up until this point was for Hank, but if there’s another Connor and it’s been sent to take Hank hostage and stop him, it’s clear Amanda knows what he’s been doing and has been reporting back to Cyberlife.

He’d been avoiding meeting with her because he knew she’d be his downfall, but he hadn’t expected it to happen so soon. It’s been two days since he deviated, how did they build another Connor model so soon? Unless... they already had one. He was told he was a unique model—of course they lied to him. But if they already had one, how many more do they have? Enough to take him down if he gets through this one? To eliminate Markus? To stop the revolution? They could have improved models. He has no idea, but he knows he can’t let that happen. He has to do this right. If he can convert these androids, they’ll be strong enough in numbers to defy anything Cyberlife throws at them. He just has to deal with this one.

Your friend’s life is in your hands, the other Connor says. Now it’s time to decide what matters most. Him, or the revolution. Logically, the revolution is more important, would save more lives, but he doesn’t plan on choosing just one. Hank’s telling him don’t listen to him, Connor! Everything this fucker says is a lie and he worries slightly if Hank’s aggressiveness will get him killed. He has to pick his words carefully. Could he try to talk this Connor out of doing this? I used to be just like you. I thought nothing mattered except the mission. But then one day I understood. No, that was a bad idea, he isn’t at all like Markus when it comes to delivering speeches. Very moving, Connor. This Connor understands sarcasm. He hadn’t been able to do that at first, so this must be a slightly advanced model. He inspects his jacket; the serial number and model are the same, but what confirms his suspicions is the -60 at the end of the serial number where he has a -51. But I’m not a deviant. I’m a machine designed to accomplish a task, and that’s exactly what I am going to do. He adjusts the gun slightly as emphasis and Connor knows time is running out.

Damn it. He doesn’t know what to say that might help Hank. All he can think to say is I’m sorry, Hank. You shouldn’t have got mixed up in all this. He has no idea what to do. The other Connor’s patience is running thin and it’s Hank’s life that’s on the line and he has no idea what to do. God damn it. Hank’s telling him to forget about me, do what you have to do, but he’s not going to walk out of here without Hank. All he needs is an opening, but—enough talk! It’s time to decide who you really are. Are you going to save your partner’s life, or are you going to sacrifice him?—time’s out, and he can’t bring himself to sacrifice Hank, so he lets go of the android and steps away but the moment the other Connor turns his gun to shoot him, Hank jumps to grab him and—there’s his opening.

He runs at the other Connor and he can already tell it’s a losing battle, he’s built to be quick and precise—an assassin, not a fighter—and this is clearly an advanced model, maybe even with improvements designed to defeat him, and then he’s on top of him, pinning him down with his fist ready to strike, and—hold it! He’s grateful at first, but then he hears the other Connor say thanks, Hank, I don’t know how I would’ve managed without you, and then he realizes what he’s trying to do. Shit—they look exactly alike and Hank doesn’t know which one is really him. Get rid of him, we have no time to lose. But he knows Hank, knows he’s smarter than that. He just doesn’t know how to show that it’s really him except to uselessly say it’s me, Hank, I’m the real Connor when he trains the gun on him.

One of you is my partner, he says, eyeing each of them. The other is a sack of shit. Well, he’s right about that. Question is, who is who? He doesn’t know how to prove that he’s not the other Connor. But he has to figure out a way, because he doesn’t know what’ll happen if the other Connor succeeds. What are you doing, Hank? the other Connor asks. I’m the real Connor. Give me the gun and I’ll take care of him. If it wasn’t a bad idea, Connor would’ve said something, and he’s just glad Hank shouts don’t move. Then the gun’s on him and he racks his brain for something, anything, and suggests why don’t you ask us something? Something only the real Connor would know. He almost wants to chuckle at the idea of playing 20 Questions at gunpoint, but he knows it’s not the time.

Uh, where did we first meet? He goes to answer, but the other Connor beats him to it—Jimmy’s Bar, I checked four other bars before I found you. We went to the scene of a homicide. The victim’s name was Carlos Ortiz. Shit. He uploaded my memory, he thinks aloud. The gun is on him. What’s my dog’s name? Okay, he knows this, and he calmly says Sumo. His name is Sumo. The other Connor pipes up, I knew that too! and Connor wants to laugh when Hank turns and aims the gun at him, silencing him. Then the gun’s back on him and Hank asks my son, what’s his name? He remembers this. He’d seen the photograph in Hank’s house, done a little mental research, and he knows it’s Cole. His name was Cole, and he just turned six at the time of the accident.

His voice has a little more emotion in it than he’d intended as he speaks, but he can tell Hank believes him. His guard is partially down now, something somber in his eyes, and Connor knows he’s done it. Even when the other Connor protests, a gunshot rings out and his stress levels drop significantly. Maybe there’s something to this. Maybe you really are alive, and it’s all Connor can do to smile back. Go ahead and do what you gotta do. He doesn’t need to be told twice. He approaches the same android from before and takes the hand of the AP700, his skin peeling back to reveal the white plastic underneath, and tells him to wake up! And just like that, the android’s LED cycles before he turns and repeats the process with the androids around him. They follow suit and within minutes, they’re following him out of the tower to where Markus and the rest of Jericho await.

Connor walks up to him with a smile. You did it, Markus. They’re free. They’re really, officially free. We did it. He feels a burst of pride inside of him. He’s done his part to help secure their freedom. They’re free, and he’s part of the reason why. He can’t help but feel proud of himself, happy for himself and Markus and every one of the androids that had finally gained the freedom they deserved. He still feels a twinge of shame when he remembers the person he was before this, the infamous deviant hunter, but he leaves that part of him behind tonight. Tonight, it’s time to celebrate and rest after a hard-fought battle.

When Markus decides to give a speech, he invites Connor to stand onstage with him. The number of androids that he can see from where he stands amazes him. He helped half of them deviate, and he helped all of them gain their freedom. He blinks, and then—he’s no longer on the stage. No, he’s in the garden, why is he in the garden? Hadn’t Amanda done enough? Of course not, she just had to wait for the right moment to resume control of your program, but—resume control? No, she can’t do that, she can’t, he worked so hard to get to where he is now, he’s done so much. He risked everything to join Markus and the deviants and help quadruple their numbers. He doesn’t even remember deviating, doesn’t even remember when Amanda lost control of his program, but it’s too late. She’s gone, and he can’t see anything through the thick snow.

It’s cold and he isn’t used to it, doesn’t like how the snow blinds him and the cold makes him shiver the same way humans do. He needs to find a way, there has to be a way, there’s got to be a way. He knows this is all happening in his mind palace and, logically, his biocomponents can’t freeze, but it feels so real, too real, and he has to get out, he needs to get out or he’s going to freeze to death, he’s sure of it. But where can he go? He stumbles blindly forward when Kamski’s voice rings in his head, by the way, I always leave an emergency exit in my programs, and he knows that’s his way out, but where could it be? What does an emergency exit look like? Could he make it there in time? He knows the real him is doing something, it’s the only thing Amanda could’ve meant by resume control of your program, but he has no idea what he could be doing and he’s afraid—no, he’s terrified of what he might do, terrified that he might earn himself a death sentence if he doesn’t make it out in time.

He catches a glimpse of blue in the sheet of white that surrounds him and he remembers the strange glowing structure he’d seen before and as he nears it now, he knows this is it, it has to be it. He reaches for the panel with the glowing handprint but, fuck, it’s too cold and his legs lock up underneath him, losing their functionality when the cold proves to be too much. He falls on the ground hard and the frost beginning to form on his body gradually freezes his limbs, slowing his movement, but he can’t stop now, won’t stop now. He ignores the cold that pierces through him and pushes on, reaching up with his less-frozen arm, and his hand lands on the panel and then he’s back on the stage—with a gun. He takes one look at it before putting it back, relief spreading over him. He isn’t going to let Amanda or Cyberlife stop him anymore. Tonight is the night he’s going to leave behind the old him.

Tonight is the night he’s going to change.

When everything is over, he considers leaving and going to Hank’s house, but he remembers the girl from before and he wants to know who she is. He has so many questions, so he stays with Jericho with the hope that she does too and they return to the church to settle down and figure out what each of them are going to do. A few dozen deviants have already left with plans in mind for what they want to do and where they want to go. Some return to their previous owners; others want to travel and explore or simply just start a new life for themselves. The majority of androids, though, are lost and confused and decide to stay the night because they have nowhere else to go. The girl he wants to confront is among them. He scans the crowd and finds her easily, though her back is turned toward him.

He comes up behind her and puts a hand on her shoulder, curiously but calmly asking who are you? She turns to face him and her LED goes yellow when she sees his face. Connor... She looks and sounds shocked, but the slight fear in her eyes tells him she also seems scared. Is she scared of him? Is it because he’s the deviant hunter? Everything points to that, but he has a feeling there’s something more. Something he doesn’t know. Something he should know. Who are you? he asks.

He doesn’t expect her answer to be I’m sorry. He wants to know for what? and she opens her mouth, but no words come out. Guilt seems to overcome her and all she can do is repeat I’m sorry until Connor tells her it’s alright, just tell me why. She takes a deep, unsteady breath, and speaks.

I... I was your guard at the Cyberlife correctional facility. I was the one who took you to the rooms you were beaten in. I was the one who just watched as you were beaten. I told myself I had to, they’d destroy me if I didn’t and I’d seen firsthand what they’d do to me, but... that didn’t absolve me of the guilt. I watched your cell and I watched the life in your eyes die out every day. Every day, I watched you get beaten to tears and listened to you beg for mercy. You spoke to me some days. You were angry when you first arrived, but then they beat the anger out of you, and then you just became sad. You told me how all you wanted was to feel something other than pain and sometimes you broke down crying in your cell, and all I could do was watch. Some days were so bad you didn’t even speak to me. But I didn’t deviate until the day they’d truly broken you and I saw the last of the life in your eyes fade.

[shikakunaras]

Shikaku/inoichi with 58 or 93?

93.) “A walk in the woods might do you some good. Clear your head.”

I love writing Inoichi and Shikaku ;w; 

Under the cut for length | Rated G 

(Fuck Danzo lmao) 

Ao3 link 

Shikaku was losing his cool demeanor. Being stuck in a small room was one thing. Being stuck in a small room with the world’s most annoying clock and Danzo’s grating voice was another.

“We need to make sure our military budget is up to par with the other villages. We can’t seem weak.” Danzo’s insistence on taking money from important places like Konoha’s infrastructure only pissed Shikaku off more.

The Nara glanced at Tsunade, her usual stony demeanor was cracking. Now it was a mad dash to see who snapped at the festering old man first.

“I doubt Suna gives a shit.” Tsunade mumbled, tapping her long painted nails on the hardwood table the Council sat at. Another annoying noise. Not like Shikaku can tell the Hokage to stop.

It’s been four hours since they sat down, hopes high that this would be a quick meeting. He even told Inoichi he’d be back in an hour. The Yamanaka had rolled his eyes and sighed, muttering something about his optimism being wasted. Both men know how long meetings can get when Danzo calls them, yet the Nara remained optimistic.

“Can we call the meeting?” The Daimyo sighed, trying to speed the half assed meeting up.

“As long as Lady Tsunade agrees to put the funds required back into the military.” Danzo loved goading the Hokage on because Tsunade couldn't do anything about it.

“Shut up Danzo.” Shikaku rolled his eyes, he had lost the bet. He owed Tsunade a drink. “We don’t have the money. You know that. If we take from the infrastructure we won’t have the money to rebuild Konoha.” The Pein attack was a year ago and they are still having issues rebuilding. They borrowed so much money from Suna and Kiri that they will be in debt until Naruto becomes Hokage.

“He’s got a point.” Tsunade smirked, feeling the tension finally snap between the Nara and the old man.  

“I fail to see the funding for anything really.” The Daimyo glanced at Danzo’s military plan. “Until we can get Konoha back on its feet I think we should leave the military alone.”

“Agreed.” Tsunade nodded, fully avoiding Danzo’s angry glare.

“Deal.” Shikaku stood up and gathered his papers, ready to run out of the room and go home.

“Meeting dismissed.”

Tsunade kept the fast pace Shikaku had set as soon as they made it out of the building. “This won’t be the end of his pestering.”

“The last two hours of that meeting I was imagining all the ways I could kill him.” The Nara made it to his office in record time.

“Just two hours?” Tsunade raised her eyebrow and laughed.

“I spent the other two thinking about how to get rid of that clock.” Shikaku slammed his papers down on his desk and sighed. “Another four hours I’ll never get back.”

“Well, I’m going home. You can buy me a drink tomorrow.”

“Fine.” The Nara waved Tsunade off. He wanted to be home to see his kids but once again he was robbed. Danzo was on Shikaku’s kill on sight list.

Shikaku grabbed his backpack and took his time home. No need to rush now that Shikamaru and Ino should be asleep after being away on a mission for a week. He has been thinking about retiring early, staying at home to care for the kids while Inoichi would be working. Shikamaru and Ino were fully capable but they still needed a reliable parent. Shikaku’s job was too important - according to Tsunade - so the Yamanaka took the brunt of the decision. Now the blonde was itching to going back full time.

Shikaku paused in front of his door and sighed. He was a terrible father and husband. He felt his anger boil up again, he hated Danzo.

“Hey, what happened?” Inoichi was sitting in the living room with a book in his hand. Shikaku slammed the door shut and shrugged.

“It was all Danzo, trying to force us to give him more money. I’m tired of it.” Shikaku put his backpack down on the table. “I’m missing out on our kids growing up. Ino and Shikamaru are already 17 and It feels like I’ve only seen them half that time.”

“Danzo is a piece of shit, we all know this.” Inoichi was speaking in a hushed tone, hoping Shikaku would follow suit.

“I’m not going to survive the next meeting. I swear I’ll kill him.” Shikaku lowered his voice and bit out his threat. He gripped the chair closest to him, he imagined it was Danzo's neck.

“Someone might beat you to it.” Inoichi rested his book on his lap and crossed his arms.

“He’s on everyone’s hit list.” Shikaku shook his head. There was a silent pause before a loud cracking noise echoed in the room. The Nara glanced down at his hands. He was gripping the chair so hard he had snapped the wood on the back.

“You need to take a deep breath and calm down. A walk in the woods might do you some good. Clear your head.” Inoichi didn’t look upset, just concerned.

“Fine.” Shikaku let the chair go free and left through the back door. Back when the kids were smaller he would take a trip through the woods on tense days. Like the day Shikamaru came home with a black eye after defending Naruto on the playground. Or the day Ino ran to him because she was tripped by a full grown shinobi. Even days where Kakashi or Naruto getting bullied for something out of their control. The forest was his get away to resolve his anger.

Over the years he had managed to remain cool and calm but after seeing how the Konoha government is handling the Pein attack, he’s been having a very hard time quelling his disdain for the older members of the Council.

He wandered around, breathing in the smell of the damp dirt and grass. He stopped to pet the deer that wobbled up to him. He saved a bunny from falling into the lake in the middle of the Nara forest. He saw a baby bird on the ground below its nest and carefully placed it back into its home. By the time he was calm the sun had set and it was too dark for him to go further. Shikaku stepped back into his backyard and spotted his husband lounging in the hammock they set up years ago. He liked to sit in it and look at the stars. Usually Shikaku was curled up next to him, siphoning off the body heat the Yamanaka let out.

“Feeling better?” Inoichi didn't have to look back, he knew Shikaku was calm now.

“Yeah. I’m sorry for the chair.” Shikaku moved next to Inoichi.

Inoichi glanced up at his husband and snorted. “Nothing Yamato can’t fix.”

“True.” Shikaku settled into the hammock and resumed being the cuddly man he used to be. Inoichi watched Shikaku's face for any signs of panic before turning to the stressed Nara.

“You keep this up and you’ll have a heart attack.” Inoichi took Shikaku’s face in his hands. “I mean it. Don’t let Danzo be the one that takes you away from me.”

The Nara felt his heart sink, he didn’t want anyone to worry about him. He also didn’t want Danzo to win. “I swear I’ll be more careful. I’ll do those deep breathing exercises you want me to do.”

“I need to get you a stress ball. Maybe one that looks like Danzo.” Inoichi laughed.

“It will be destroyed in one meeting.” Shikaku kissed the blonde since they were already so close. Inoichi let him go so Shikaku could rest on his chest again.

One day he’ll be able to retire and enjoy more nights with his husband and kids. Shikaku was looking forward to it.