#he may be inclined to believe the red haired guy because no one knows his relation to rayleigh

[softesttangerines]

As someone who LOVES a good old time travel au, and after seeing amazing fanart of kid!Mihawk i have to let it out!!

I just wanna read a time travel fic where baby Mihawk wakes up and finds himself in the world of adult Mihawk and he's like wtf is going on?

And word goes around that a kid that looks exactly like Hawkeyes and carries the same cross knife as him is roaming around this island and rumors say it's the son he abandoned to fend for himself.

And so, marines and every pirates he ever wronged come after him for revenge and the little guy is just thinking why is everyone trying to get me? While doing his best with his cross dagger to rid of them.

And Shanks, good ol' shanks could have sworn that if his old rival had an 9years old, he would know about it (also he refuses to let the bitter taste in his heart take over unless his own eyes see) so he's skeptical about the whole thing and that's the only thing that gets him to leave his hideout in a reclused ghost island waiting for whatever is his big plan to take place.

News say Red Shanks is on the move after being mia for a few years and everyone got their panties in a twist, what could have raised the emperor from the dead.

He follows from island to island because apparently the young boy knows how to avoid the marines and pirates coming after him.

Till one night, on their stop at some bar on an island that wasn't really on the plan, he sees the boy. Just outside the bar in an alley, where he went to empty his guts from the booze overfilling his body, there stood bloody faced, cross dagger in one hand, a tiny version of his old rival with a bounty hunter's body at his feet.

The boy furrows his eyebrows even more at the new arrival and strikes another pose in case the new guy tries something funny. But Shanks, drunk ass Shanks, who knows his rival by heart is a 100% sure the little guy is in fact his rival for whatever magical reason, there he stands in front of him in the form of an 9years old and Shanks giggles at that -to which the child takes great offense- and just say "hey kid, i'm a friend of your dad's, want me to take you to him?"

#mishanks #Ok so here I'm running with the fandom's theory that rayleigh is mihawk's dad #And after getting all these murder attempts on his person he's just so fckn tired of anyone that approaches him So he's completely on guard #when this red haired dude comes out of nowhere n tells him he knows his dad #Which no one did before all they did was charge at him screaming HAWKEYES YOU'RE GONNA REGRET WHAT YOU DID #And here's the thing #he may be inclined to believe the red haired guy because no one knows his relation to rayleigh #so this guy must really know his dad and he's tired of running all the time he just wants his bed and parents #so cut him some slack when he follows a random one armed red haired pirate #On the other hand the crew is equally creeped out and charmed by the little fella because even young he still installs the chills in them #How can he be as equally as skilled as he is cuuuuute #They try their best not to say it to his face because he threatens to stab them at any given chance but they cant HELP IT #it's Dracule Fucking Mihawk as an 9years old!!!! Ofc he's cute #Shanks cant fucking wait to get his adult Mihawk back to tease the shit out of him about the little version of him lol #When they got him to rayleigh he fckn cried because that's his fckn son znd the last time he saw hus baby that way was more than 30years ag #Mihawk is just confused as fuck why is his dad's grey n have much more wrinklesBut it's still one familiar face so he just sticks to him #The red haired pirate keeps telling him that he should look for him when he gets home but he doesn't understand!!! #He also keeps challenging shanks on a duel once he discovers he's a swordsman and keeps on losing #And truth be told shanks is embarrassed as fuck because it took him his rival being a child for him to win over mihawk #opla #one piece #mihawk #dracule mihawk #red haired shanks #shanks

[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!” 

#jimin scenario #jimin x reader #jimin x you #jimin fluff #jimin smut #jimin x y/n #bts scenarios #bts x reader #bts fluff #bts imagines #bts smut #traci writes #hp reputation series #i..... am so tired #i want to be freed from this fic

[nightingale-interactive]

lmao imagine the Scandal ROs and their Citadel BFF in a scenario where there’s this rumor going around that the Citadel character is dating the Scandal MC (totally not true, ofc) how would the Scandal RO react?? would they confront the Citadel RO? Wish them the best? Challenge them to SABERS AT DAWN 🤣

Christian and Dr. Grey:

Tapping his finger against his desk, Christian could feel the way his nerves were starting to get to him. Of course, he knew that Peter would never do such a thing to him. They may have disconnects at times when it came to communicating properly, but he believes wholeheartedly that they were good friends. That Peter was actually one of his closest friends he had in his life.

The dial tone was finally interrupted by the smooth tone of Doctor Grey.

“Christian?”

The sound of his friends voice causes him to sag. All of his earlier indignation leaving him. “Peter.”

Such a simple statement, laden with years and years of pent up emotion, clearly causes a concerned reaction out of the older man. “Is everything all right?”

For a moment, Christian thinks about asking Peter for an explanation but he also knows his friend well enough to know that he would keep something like this from him. Not when it came to her…

Settling back, an actual smile pulls at Christian’s lips as a soft chuckle falls from them. “I’ve never been better, Peter. How’s Citadel treating you?”

Alcina and Dr. Sloan:

“It’s been too long, darling.”

The statement is followed my a warm smile as Alcina placed a light kiss on the shorter woman’s cheek. Sparkling emerald eyes meeting faintly amused hazel.

Ivy Sloan situates herself in the chair opposite the First Lady as she folds her hands neatly in her lap. The deep red of the dress she decided to wear complementing her fair complexion and auburn hair. Her keen eyes assessing Alcina just as Alcina was doing so to her.

“It has been, Ali,” Ivy begins almost testing the words on her lips. Her brow arching in a silent question that neither were willing to voice. Even though they both knew the root of it. “I’m quite curious as to what prompted this sudden visit.”

Alcina fakes a gasp of outrage. Settling back in her chair with a hand to her chest. “Are you not happy to see me, Ivy?”

“Happy isn’t quite the right word, Alcina.” Hazel eyes turn sharper as her concern for her friend grows. “Now why don’t you actually tell me what’s wrong? Even though I have an inclination on what it may be.”

Shaking her head, a slight smile quirks Alcina’s lips before she stifles it. “Are you dating, Anon?”

An incredulous look is all Alcina gets for a moment before a light laugh erupts from Ivy’s lips. “No, Alcina, I’m not.”

Nodding, Alcina tugs at the corner of her napkin for a moment.

“So how about brunch?”

The Sunshine Squad:

Stevie Wonder- Jean are you dating, Anon?

Sunshine Kid- What!? Of course not, Stephen.

Stevie Wonder- …

Sunshine Kid- …

Stevie Wonder- Are you sure?

Sunshine Kid- I’m pretty positive I’m not dating anyone at the moment, Stevie.

Stevie Wonder- Okay, I believe you. I just wanted to ask because I heard it through the grapevine.

Sunshine Kid- Well, thank you, for asking.

The Dancing Clown- I’m in here too, guys. Why didn’t you ask me?

Stevie Wonder- Because you’re too busy pining over your own best friend to go after mine.

Sunshine Kid- Facts.

The Brooding Squad:

Three sets of eyes stare at one another from various points in the room. No hostility being passed between looks as gazes shift from one to the other.

Finally, gray eyes narrow as Quinn straightens out. “It was foolish to think either of you would go after, Anon, without consulting me first.”

Glancing back down, their eyes furrow in thought before a small smirk quirks their lips.

Looking back up, they can see the makings of hostility beginning to grow within their opponents gazes.

“Uno.”

#scandal #christian anderson #alcina anderson #stephen beckett #quinn matthews #eli sanford #jean liu #peter grey #ivy sloan #victoria uytterhoeven #victor uytterhoeven #citadal #citadelwip #scandalwip #scandael #anonymous #fluff #humor

[starcrossedkaiju]

Kingslayer AU: Chapter Five

If you remember that post I made about the Red Resistance you’re a real one.

Notes: this one is very short. It’s just to move the plot along and blah blah blah. Next chapter is a good one I think.

The next time Scott showed up to the Red Desert it was for a petty fight that Scar had instigated by trying to steal directly from the Renchanting base. The situation made Scott face palm, and he contemplated not even showing up. However, when Jimmy offered to go in place of him, he told him not to bother. That he would be back in less than a day and night cycle.

Scott walked into the meeting just as the Red Army crested a hill. Which they stayed on. Scar yawned exaggeratedly and trekked up to his opponent, who was wearing a bandage on his left arm.

Cleo was also there. She seemed to be focused on drawing shapes in the cracked sand with the tip of her sword. Most likely feeling bitter about her former ally, Tango, joining Dogwarts. Everyone was paying as little attention as possible while Scar fired off false promises and white lies. Grian busied himself with apologizing to the nearest members of the Red Army for Scar’s embarrassment.

Scott was nearly falling asleep on his feet when someone tapped him on the shoulder.

Tango.

“Hey Major, you got a minute?” he whispered.

“So many,” Scott responded, gesturing to the desolate state of their meeting.

The two of them quietly excused themselves from the group to speak in private. Scott didn’t know why he didn’t tell Tango to just leave him alone. Maybe it was because Tango had a certain air of reluctance about him, Scott was certain he pulled his punches. Maybe it was shear boredom.

“So, nice weather,” Tango observed the arid desert sky.

“Uh huh..” Scott provided, unimpressed.

Tango stared at him blankly. Awkwardly.

He cleared his throat, “so I heard about your battle with Skiz and Ren. Impressive,” Tango said.

“What is with you people and beating around the bush? We’re not friends,” Scott pushed Tango away by the middle of his chest, “Tango,” he reminded.

Tango looked hurt for a second, “ouch Major. Fine, I wanted to ask you to join me,” he said.

Scott burst out laughing, to which Tango scolded him and shook him by the shoulders. That shut him up, it also earned Tango a slap.

“Don’t touch me,” Scott ordered.

Tango put his hands up, “no touching here! But be quiet. I brought you over here alone for a reason,” he pointed out.

Scott glanced at his allies. Blissfully unaware of the possible treason he may have been about to commit.

“Nobody knows this yet,” Tango whispered, “but I’m spying on the Red Army,” he said.

“What?” Scott asked rhetorically.

“Yeah, I have a plan. It involves you,” Tango responded.

Scott paused to consider if he was really about to entertain whatever was about to come out of Tango’s mouth.

“How do I know you’re not just trying to get close to me and then kill me on behalf of him,” Scott pointed at Ren, who was rolling his eyes at Scar and animatedly conversing with him about something Scott forgot about a long time ago.

“You remember the cow farm right?” he said.

“Yes,” Scott nodded suspiciously.

“I let you take my cow, on the promise that you and Jimmy wouldn’t tell anyone,” Tango recited.

“And we didn’t,” Scott said.

“Exactly. I know I can trust you, and I can’t trust them, Etho tried to kill me remember?” Tango pointed at Etho and Ren.

“So I want you to join me. Not the Red Army, me. Impulse is doing the same thing,” he concluded.

“Didn’t Impulse actually kill you?” Scott pointed out.

Tango waved his hand, water under the bridge.

Scott drifted off into contemplation. Everything about joining a coup against the Red Army screamed danger. More than usual. Dogwarts was a force to be reckoned with. They had superior gear, defenses, players, and alliances. Maybe Scott could cheap shot Martyn and Skizzle, but he could not promise that same luck against Etho or anyone else for that matter. The thought of even trying made his stomach turn.

And then there was Jimmy. If their plan didn’t work, what would happen to Jimmy? The Crastle? Or the Red Desert for that matter? The target on their backs was large enough. Scott had to take a step back. Since when did he get himself involved in a war?

Since he started defending himself, his mind provided.

Since he started standing up for his own freedom. For their freedom.

“Okay,” Scott said.

“Really? You’re in?” Tango’s eyes lit up, his joy was a bit loud for Scott’s new predilection for secrecy.

“Shh!” Scott put a finger in front of his face, “that’s not what I said…” he averted his eyes.

“I want to, believe me, I do,” he said, “but I can’t.”

Tango’s smile faded instantly, his red eyes grew disappointed, “Why not?” he seemed hurt.

“I have too much to lose. I can’t risk this,” Scott held the charm of his necklace up, it’s gemstone still shimmered bright green.

“Scott, I admire your devotion, I really do; but this is a bit bigger than that,” Tango said.

Scott’s expression fell into shock and reproach.

That seemed like enough of an answer for Tango, who backtracked as he realized he’d struck a nerve.

“I mean!” he corrected, “I mean nothing will happen to Jimmy. Cross my heart, he will be under the Red Resistance’s finest protection,” Tango stood up straight and crossed his heart.

Scott decided that was satisfactory. He made a face that said the opposite though, just to make sure Tango’s pride wasn’t too uplifted.

“Fine. I’ll join you Tango, but if I get even the slightest inclination of funny business, I’m out,” Scott cautioned, but he agreed.

“Terms and Conditions, I get it. The Red Resistance will not indenture any of its members,” Tango responded with a gleeful grin.

“You guys and your red themed names,” Scott teased, but held his hand out. They ought to make it official before everyone stopped snoring.

Tango shook it enthusiastically. The two called it done and Scott returned to his side, and Tango returned to the Red Army.

*****

Scott traveled back home that day. No fighting had taken place, although Scar had decidedly talked himself into a hole and ended up giving Ren access to any sand Dogwarts and their affiliates needed for the next week. It was no skin off Scott’s back, he didn’t care. Not his sand.

Wearing so much armor and standing in place for two hours gets on ones nerves. Taking off his heavy diamond chestplate felt like enough liberation for the day. He expected to hear from Tango or Impulse at some point, preferably soon.

Jimmy asked him how the meeting went when he returned, holding out a cup of coffee.

Unsure of whether or not to tell the truth, Scott lied, he said nothing happened and made fun of Scar for running his mouth so much. He said he was tired.

*****

“Scott? That you?” Tango’s voice came through a small door in his abandoned cow farm. It wasn’t needed anymore.

Scott pointed his torch towards the voice, illuminating a door, which Tango had crafted into the side of the underground farm.

“Yes it’s me. Why’s it so dark in here?” he asked.

“I don’t want people to know I’m still using this place, that’s why,” Tango motioned for Scott to come to him.

Tango silently listened for any sign that Scott had been followed, then pushed a stone slab in front of the hidden door with a silent thud.

On the other side of the door was a short hallway, then a very small room with some pillows on the floor and a table. A map of the server that included all the structures and members was pinned up on the wall. There was also a well loved notebook on the table.

“Where’s Impulse?” Scott asked, sitting down on one of the pillows.

“Ren needed him for something, he’ll probably be here next time,” Tango explained. He sat down and lit a candle to make more light.

“I thought we would start by going over the basics today,” Tango picked up the notebook and flipped through some of the pages absently.

Scott looked away and then back, “okay, shoot,” he said.

The “plan” centered around infiltrating the Red Army, convincing them (mainly Ren) that Scott had decided to switch sides. Then, him, Tango, and Impulse would eventually build their trust. Somewhere in there they would convince the Red Army to stop messing with people and come to an agreement with the rest of the server. Something about working together instead of against each other.

“We still have to work some stuff out,” Tango concluded with confidence.

“That’s the plan? You really think this’ll work?” Scott crossed his arms.

“If you can insult Scar convincingly enough, yes,” Tango said.

“Oh this’ll be easy!” Scott laughed, mostly to cover up his nerves.

Tango chuckled with him, then became serious once more, “I’m glad you have a sense of humor going into this. Even after what they did to you,” Tango said.

“I’m sorry about that, by the way,” he apologized.

Scott’s hands stung a bit in response, but he nodded a silent “thanks”.

They were quiet. Scott nervously fiddled with the hem of his coat, lost in thought, mostly regret.

Impulse did show up the next time. He arrived just after Scott did. Everyone sat awkwardly in the little room for a while and Scott was wrapped in nostalgia for a similar time. A time where the only threat was an obscene number of phantoms.

Over the course of their meetings, Scott observed his teammates and their actions. A far cry from who they used to be, including him. Scott’s hair had grown past his ears and turned purple at the tips, and he’d become rather paranoid about always wearing armor.

Tango spent much of their interactions lost in thought. The ghost of whatever was eating at him weighed visibly on his shoulders in the way his head was always bowed in a perpetual staring contest with the ground. He was irritable.

Impulse was a wild card to Scott, they’d never really met before; but it was clear he’d been changed as well. Illustrated by his long “mining” trips, which he only returned from to attend their weekly meetups with no resources to show for it, and a general aura of depression.

His mind was drawn back to the picture Cleo had taken of almost all his server-mates, together in front of the Vibe Machine. He’d studied everyone’s faces countless times. Mostly wondering where everything had gone wrong.

Had they ever truly been friends in the first place? Or was camaraderie a comfort when everyone else was just as weak as one another.

#finally. the end of act one. #also the end of me having to select from my notes app because #up until now I wrote EVERYTHING in the same document #never. ever do that. #kingslayer au #scott smajor #tangotek #impulsesv #3rdlife #3rd life smp #cas types #mcyt

[gothamcityangst]

That Edward as a father ask broke my heart. How do you think it'd feel if the parent of the child sent him pictures or letters of the kid's milestones, if he's allowed to receive them at all? Would he even accept them?

Going with the canon that Ed seems to have a daughter in most universes. :D Are you guys ready to be upset? Because I am. This is comfort/hurt.

-

The parent is Ed's old partner in crime, a lackey turned partner turned lover. At first, they bombarded Ed with pictures and letters but this only put Ed off more. He'd do the gentlemanly thing and send the child support payments but asides from that he tried to deny seeing the kid. Even when he was ambushed with them during visiting hours he'd simply walk away.

Ed slowly began reading the letters more and more. He couldn't help but notice how much of himself was in her. She'd grown a fine mane of ginger hair and his green eyes to match. Even as a baby she still had a great look of intelligence about her.

According to the letters she was a mini version of him. Obsessed with bright colourful puzzles and quiz shows. She couldn't understand most of it but she was always fascinated by them regardless.

After about a year or so of reading letters and seeing progress, he was finally convinced to see her.

He finally begins to work with the Arkham doctors to get himself better. Or at least well enough to not completely ruin the child. He wants to at least see his daughter for a little while. All the non-dick head doctors are thrilled he's finally working with them, rather than against them. It's a struggle but they finally find a routine that works for him.

The day before he leaves he asks rogues with children for childcare tips. He's more inclined to followed Deadshot's advice as opposed to Deathstroke's advice.

When he gets home his partner has the baby in the crib. She was sleeping by the time he got there.

Ed is hesitant at first. Citing that he doesn't know a single thing about child care. Ed makes a dozen excuses as to why he can't hold his baby. Partner smartly talks as to why each one of his excuses is ridiculous and he finally runs out of excuses.

For the first time, he finally holds his baby in his arms. Every fear that was drilled into him by the Arkham doctors is thrown out the window.

Then she opens her eyes. He's in love. She's perfect. In his 32 years of life, he's never felt this way about anyone or anything else before.

They decide to go out to celebrate his release. They go to the park for a nice leisurely stroll. Ed gets a hang of using the baby toys and stroller. His little girl is absolutely smitten with him. Ed has no problem taking care of her when Partner has to take a phone call. Even when she begins to cry as soon as Ed picks her up she's completely calm. Ed catches up in one year of lost time in about about 8 hours.

When they're back in the house Partner seems nervous. Ed can sense it but doesn't want to say anything that might ruin the day. A sudden knock at the door sends Partner into a sudden flurry. Partner rips the baby from his arms, shoving Ed into a small hiding spot underneath some laundry. Ed is too shocked to say anything when a sudden male voice fills the room.

"You're aware that Edward Nygma is being released today, yes?" The male voice said. Ed knew he was a potential smoker by the gruff tone of his voice.

"I am. And for the millionth time, he's not interested in seeing his 'bastard child' now leave me alone." Partner said.

"If I may be candid. It's bad enough we can't take the baby away from you. I'd rip her right out of your arms in a heartbeat if I could. People like you would be better off without kids. But now we may have a reason. If you're letting a known supervillain near your child well then I'd call that child endangerment...Wouldn't you?"

"He's reformed. Arkham certified it. Even if he does come around you have no grounds for your claim."

"You think the courts care about that? All the courts care about is that we take innocent children away from criminals like you. And your precious Eddie."

"I believe it's time you leave my home." Partner was polite but firm. A tone Ed was well familiar with.

"Well, aside from that all seems in order. I'll see you around. Hopefully soon."

Edward wouldn't dare move from his hiding spot, he wouldn't dare breathe until fifteen minutes had gone by and Partner took the dirty clothing off him.

Partner's eyes were puffy and red. Edward embraced them as they silently pressed their head into his shoulder."Edward. I'm so sorry. "

"How long have they been visiting?"

"Since she was born. They're tenacious bastards. They're not going to stop trying to take her away. We have to run. Metropolis might be good. It's the only way we'll be together. We could be normal."

That's all Ed wanted for his child. Normalcy. He'd love for nothing more than to get a desk job and come home to a nice normal family unit.

"She'd been living life on the run. She'd only get taken away quicker. The Batman would be sure of it."

Life on the run was no life for a child. As a fifteen-year-old Ed was well aware of how dangerous the stress could be. They weren't normal people. His little girl's one true shot at having that normal life would be if he wasn't in it. They'd have no reason to take her away from Partner and he could still support her from afar.

"Eddie, what are you suggesting?"

"Raise her without me. That was the plan anyway. No need to change it."

"But Eddie-"

Edward took his partner's hand.

"You're going to raise her. I'll still support you. You'll watch her win science fairs at 5, partake in national contests at 7, go on to go to Gotham University at age 15. You can watch her grow to be brilliant. And she will be. My beautiful little genius. You'll both be okay without me. I know you'll be."

He held her in his arms, the way his partner showed him. Evidently, she was beginning to grow sleepy. Edward knew many things but he never knew how small yawns could be.

"Riddle me this. I'm as boundless as the ocean. I am as infinite as the stars in the sky and I am the greatest known force in the universe. What am I?"

He rubbed a single thumb over her small cheek, choking back his own tears.

"Answer. My love for you."

Putting her back down in the crib he left. Looking back he saw her for the last and final time.

-

There will be an alternate version of this where Partner is pissed at Ed coming up soon.

#Riddler #Edward Nygma #hurt/comfort #Sad times #Ah CPS #idk how different they are in the us and uk but yeahhhhh #G-C-A

[lilflowerpot]

Soulmate AU where the marks on one person's skin show up on the other, but obviously they can't understand each other's writing, so Keith mostly just tries to express himself through art instead. So naturally, when he starts investigating the Blue Lion he starts drawing THAT too. Which is why, when Voltron shows up, Lotor is Dead Certain that the blue paladin is his soulmate, and he desperately tries to force himself to fall in love with Lance even while he's like "... Really? THIS guy?"

Lotor’s soulmate is not illiterate, but they may as well be. He’s compared their careless scrawl against every language in the Imperial data banks - thrice! - and it’s simply... not there.

“They’re a primitive,” Ezor nods sagely from where she’s half draped over his shoulder, eyeing the illegible lettering on his wrist with an entertained curl to her lips, “must be. Guess the universe wanted to counterbalance all your insufferable braininess.”

When Lotor shrugs her off with a snarl, she has the audacity to laugh.

Acxa’s kinder, or she tries to be, comforting him with the notion that if his soulmate is a primitive, they’re at the very least an educated one, or better yet of a more evolved society wherein knowledge of scripture is commonplace, so... they’re not feral.

Zethrid seems to half wish that they were, if only for the thrill of it.

“And the sex,” Ezor tacks on with an evil little grin, “the sex would have been fantastic.”

Her soulmate’s raucous glee drowns out any further discussion of the topic.

-

So they can’t communicate, not with words, but if Lotor’s soulmate is anything it’s tenacious (and the Prince can’t help but admire that). They come to the conclusion that pictures are the way to go, painting Lotor’s forearms with a veritable rainbow of quadrilaterals, each containing varying stripes and symbols, and then a series of dotted squiggles that Lotor is beginning to recognise as their approximation of a question.

The problem being he doesn’t actually know what it is that they’re asking.

There’s one rectangle - the majority of which is striped red and white, with a one contrasting quarter of stars in a blue sky - that his soulmate keeps coming back to, and Lotor realises it must be a clan symbol of a sort, indicative of their own people and culture, but... once again scouring Imperial logs turns up nothing of import. Frustrated, Lotor practically carves the hateful Imperial emblem into his palm with jagged lines of ink - Vrepit Sa - and turns in for the night.

In the morning, his arms are wiped clean.

They stay that way for a quintent.

Two.

On the third, he hears back, and it rocks his entire world view.

Kraliept Sa.

The lines are careful, deliberate, as if someone unfamiliar with the old scripture had taken great pains to transcribe that singular character, and Lotor quite simply can’t believe his eyes, because that would mean... that would mean that the only two things he knows of his soulmate are in direct contrast with one another: the first being that they are completely isolated from the Empire, and the second more impossible yet, that they have ties to the Blade of Marmora.

-

They continue this way for almost a decaphoeb, and it’s not perfect, but it’s something.

Lotor sends renderings of the stars, his ship, Kova, and in return his soulmate replies with sketches of the animals and sunsets and vast expanses of desert on an alien world.

One evening, they blur blues and greens into a perfect little marble on the inside of Lotor’s knee, an arrow pointing to one of the green patches labeled with a sequence of characters that the galra Prince is beginning to recognise as his soulmate’s name - though he can’t so much as begin to guess at how they might be pronounced - and so on the opposite knee Lotor paints Daibazaal, and then, because that feels inadequate, smears his thumb through the centre of the planet he no longer calls home, doodling a battalion of ships leaving the wreckage in a mass exodus, the children of an orphaned world.

And once more, his soulmate falls quiet.

-

It’s almost a full phoeb until they reach out again, and when they do Lotor finds them franctic, frightened, their little blue-green marble only the beginning; an entire solar system follows, complete with details such as what Lotor assumes must be an accurate number of moons on each planet for how deliberately they’re marked out, and then-

A ship.

It’s small and unassuming and positively archaic in design, but it’s a ship nonetheless, and as Lotor watches, his soulmate draws and erases and re-draws that same design until it’s traveled the length of his leg - thigh to ankle - and ‘lands’ on an unassuming moon of the most distant planet. They circle it with agitation, jabbing whatever implement they’re using to mark their own skin so violently that Lotor’s quite sure they must bleed under the force of it, but he doesn’t know what to say, let alone know how to say it if he did.

The next morning, his soulmate’s mural has gone.

The phantom ache of it remains.

-

They call him Champion.

Lotor only takes interest because of the timing, because of the circumstance, because it’s Sendak’s fleet that located these new lifeforms on a desolate moon in some distant corner of the universe, and of all Zarkon’s commanders he most of all has something of a reputation for toeing the line between cruelty and outright sadism.

The odds are one in a million, but that’s not a risk Lotor is willing to take.

He paints an obnoxious criss-cross of colour onto his own face that will be impossible to hide or mistake for anything other than what it is, and sends his generals to ascertain whether the Champion or either of the two lifeforms that accompanied him - soon to be subject to the work camps - share the mark.

They don’t, not one of them, and so Lotor chalks it up to coincidence and moves on.

Finding what could almost be mistaken for the legendary Blue Lion on the back of his hand only for Voltron proper to re-emerge into the universe after thousands of decaphoebs with the Champion himself allegedly at the helm, is not so easily written off.

And this time, when his soulmate abandons him to cold silence, it feels final.

-

Thayserix was very much a spur of the moment decision, but Lotor has never been so glad of such impulsivity as he is now, with the blue Lion of Voltron having been stolen from the thick mists and safely in his grasp.

Though, it’s not the lion that interests him.

Yes she’s a beautiful beast of considerable power, but in this case it is quite literally what’s on the inside that counts, that being of course Lotor’s soulmate... or so he’d thought.

Princess Allura of Altea cannot be them.

At least he certainly hopes not.

She’s lovely, in theory, but they’ve been in a stalemate for the past varga with her sullenly refusing to so much as consider entertaining Lotor’s attempts at hospitality, let alone conversation, and instead quite stubbornly standing with both her guard and weapon raised.

“I really would simply like to speak with-”

“Release me.”

Her end of things has consisted solely of those two words, and the monotony of it all really is growing rather tiresome.

Narti saves him from another repetitive bout, slinking into his mind and whispering that the rest of Voltron have located them far more quickly than Lotor would have thought possible.

The worst part is he’s almost grateful.

“Very well,” he growls, temper wearing thin, “your friends are here to collect you Princess, perhaps they will be more amenable to a little tête-à-tête, hm?”

They are not.

“Release Allura,” is the first thing to pass the dark-haired Paladin’s lips, teeth bared and tongue sharp, and it takes everything Lotor is not to simply concede on the spot.

“Frankly, I would love to,” he spits, gratified by how completely this blindsides the lot of them, every face on the holoscreen struck blank by his immediate compliance. “I do not believe she is the individual I am looking for, nor does she seem inclined to assist me in locating whosoever is. Answer my questions, and you are welcome to her and the blue Lion both.”

“We... We are?” It’s an older gentleman who speaks up, the only other altean among them.

“Absolutely,” Lotor hisses, and then graciously concedes: “the mistake was mine. I simply wished to open a dialogue with who I had assumed to be the blue Paladin, but as she is of a background that would doubtless have allowed us to communicate in galra script, that no longer seems the case.”

Their group look like they’re going to ask him to further explain what must sound to the lot of them nonsense... all except the black Paladin whose eyes have gone wide on some personal revelation, whispering “you,” as if he can’t believe his ears, only to spit out an obscenity before repeating himself with all the fury of an imploding star. “You!”

There are several exclamations of “Keith-!” as those violet eyes narrow to slits, the man smacking his hand down and cutting their com-line dead.

Ezor, helpful as ever, mumbles: “Well that went well,” quiet enough that it’s almost as if she doesn’t mean for everyone in the otherwise silent cockpit to hear her.

-

For the first time in ten thousand decaphoebs, the black Lion is - technically - in Imperial hands.

Lotor couldn’t care less.

The man who strides out of her is a veritable firestorm, all dark brows and snarling lips, and in a heartbeat Lotor knows, he just knows, who he is.

What he is.

Galra, for one, almost certainly a hybrid like Lotor - it’s the eyes that betray him, half luminescent with rage - and there’s a gorgeous poeticism to that.

Reckless for another, and behind him from where she’s been brought to stand witness, Princess Allura is clearly horrified to see her companion step from Voltron’s keystone and leave it completely unprotected, but the Paladin doesn’t seem to care, and neither does Lotor.

“Release Allura,” he growls again, voice like thunder and just as electrifying as he storms across the landing bay without hesitation, not even stopping to glance in his fellow Paladin’s direction and affirm that Zethrid has, in fact, released her as instructed.

No, Lotor’s soulmate simply fists pale fingers into paler hair and hisses, “fuck you,” into his mouth before kissing the Prince senseless.

-

Later - much, much later - Lotor is pleased to report back to Ezor that the sex is, in fact, fantastic.

#sorry/not sorry I wrote an entire ficlet thing but this was just TOO GOOD #this is totally self-indulgent but like.. if that's not the point of fanfiction then idk what is #one day I will actually write out a keitor soulmates au in full but today is not that day #so for the time being you will have to content yourselves with this #sa screams back #keitor #other aus #ficlet #prince lotor #keith kogane

[lifeofkaze]

When Stars Ignite - Chapter 10

HPHM Rockstar AU

A/N:

General Warning: This whole fic has a general warning of being NSFW / 18+. We will give specific warnings for every chapter in itself, but several adult themes will be more or less present in every chapter, may it be explicitly or in mention. These include sexual topics, drug abuse, (ab)use of alcohol, smoking and a whole lot of cursing.

Specific Warning: None, wow 😂

~~~

Find the masterpost here, the previous chapter here and the next one here. The songs featured before every chapter can be found on this pretty badass playlist here.

~~~

This work is a collaboration with @the-al-chemist

Taglist: @slytherindisaster @night-rhea @carewyncromwell

I make my livin' off the evenin' news

Just give me somethin', somethin' I can use

People love it when you lose

They love dirty laundry

~ Don Henley - Dirty Laundry ~

Ethan’s plan to raise Equinox’s standing within the record company was very clear. While their nights were spent performing on stage, Ethan had made sure their days were filled with a tight schedule of PR appointments.

Where they’d had plenty of time to relax, socialise and explore on their previous tours, every day was now jam-packed with meet & greets, photoshoots and interviews. Even when they were off duty, Ethan was constantly reminding them to take pictures and film stories to publish on social media.

“People aren’t following you because they like your music,” he never got tired of saying. “They want to see who’s behind their favourite rockstars. Give them a look at your private life and you’ll be everybody’s darlings in no time once again.”

Some of them were more reluctant to put themselves out there than the others. While Lizzie and Skye didn’t mind the odd goofy backstage clip, Lizzie noticed Merula and especially Orion were increasingly drawing back into themselves.

Lizzie and Orion made a point to avoid talking about band business when they were spending their nights together; not that they were talking much at all. But the concerned crease that she could see more often than not on Orion’s forehead these days wasn’t lost on her either.

The worst part of Ethan’s strategy, however, were without a doubt the countless press appointments. All in the spirit of keeping the enemy close, Lizzie had lost track of how many interviews they had given since their U.K. tour had started. The publications they were working with ranged from reputable magazines and newspapers to the trashiest of tabloids. At least, most of the stories those were coming up with were just too hilarious to be actually believable; Lizzie shuddered to think what dirt they could uncover if they’d ever decide to dig for real.

Like on so many days before, Equinox were scheduled for another interview before one of their rare days off. It was for a feature story with a magazine well respected in the industry, all with an accompanying photo shoot and the whole conundrum. It wouldn’t have sounded so bad, had it not been for the journalist who had been chosen to conduct the interview.

Lizzie had met a number of reporters over the course of her career, but none who ground her nerves as Rita Skeeter did.

Beloved by her readers and dreaded by the subjects of her stories, Rita Skeeter was one of the most sharp-tongued critics British journalism had to offer. She had a singular gift - although some called it a curse - to wiggle even the slightest of juicy information out of her unheeding interview partner. Many a career had taken a dive after an unfortunate encounter with her.

If you wanted utmost attention, Rita Skeeter was the right woman for the job; but you had better get your guard up.

The blonde woman was currently watching Andre preparing them for the interview and the shoot afterwards; usually the magazines brought their own stylists, but Ethan liked to keep as many things under control as he could. Having Andre in charge of their looks guaranteed they would give off just the impression Ethan wanted.

Andre was in the process of applying Lizzie’s make up, the tip of his tongue showing between his teeth while he concentrated. She winced as her eyes started tearing up from the wand of the mascara.

“I don’t get why this much makeup is necessary,” she complained, drawing away from Andre to blink her tears away. “I get it with Merula, she’s singing and in focus, but I’m behind the drums, no one’s paying attention to me. Give her the spotlight and leave me in peace,” she added glumly as she saw Andre approach with a curling wand.

Andre tutted as he opened her ponytail and loosened her hair with practised hands. “Stop arguing, you know it’s useless. And besides,” he added with a wink that showed off his glittery eyeliner, “loads of people are paying attention to you; you’re just not looking.”

“I have to agree with Mr. Egwu,” Rita suddenly said. She had been leaning against one of the dressing tables on the set and watched them being dolled up. Andre usually held their wardrobe in dark colours, black and white, so Rita’s bilious green dress stood out like a flare in comparison. She pursed her bright red lips as she looked Lizzie up and down over the rim of her half-glasses.

“You’re a favourite with my readers, Miss Jameson… Lizzie, I may call you Lizzie, right?”

Without waiting for Lizzie’s answer, she continued. “You have a bright personality and some decent looks; you are the little sunshine of this group and everyone likes themselves a good ‘girl next door in the big wide world’ trope.”

She raised her hands at Lizzie’s sceptical look and laughed; it sounded incredibly put on. “I’m not a fan of putting people into drawers either, but it’s what the people want to see.” She tapped her finger against her temple. “It’s how my readers think.”

Skye snorted in the background; she was already done with her styling and sat on one of the tables, legs dangling in the air. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.”

Rita giggled. “Of course the rebel of the group would say that, I expected nothing else; after all, there’s true rockstar blood running through your veins, Skye Parkin.”

Not wanting to draw any unnecessary attention to herself, Skye fell silent.

When everyone was ready, they moved over to where two comfortable looking sofas and an armchair were set up for them. Lizzie sighed inwardly as she took her place between Skye and Everett. Rita Skeeter was known to make her interview questions up on the spot; Lizzie just hoped they wouldn’t be too off the rails.

Rita leaned back into her armchair facing them and placed a dictating machine onto the small wooden table next to her. It was no secret that the infamous reporter liked to keep her own notes, kept apart from the material belonging to her magazine; she usually kept the dictating device running long after the cameras had turned off.

“So,” she began speaking to an invisible audience with a sickly sweet voice, “I’m honoured to be talking to England’s hottest export when it comes to rock ‘n’ roll - and I mean that in more ways than one.”

She turned her attention towards them. “It’s so good to have you here today, how are you all?”

They all muttered some noncommittal phrases before Rita started with her first question. Like always in the beginning, it was more of a general palaver as both parties were taking the other’s measure.

If the questions weren’t directed at anyone in particular, it was usually Everett answering them. He loved the attention he got from Rita and contrary to the rest of them, he almost seemed to feel comfortable around her. The pictures Lizzie had seen of him and Rita in Skye’s tabloid came to her mind again, and she wondered if that might be the reason for Everett’s talkativeness.

As the interview continued, Rita’s questions were gradually becoming more detailed, focused on several aspects that she deemed sell-worthy. She watched every one of them closely as they answered, and they picked their words carefully.

“One thing I noticed about this last part of your tour is your very increased availability,” Rita said. “I don’t remember seeing you do so much fan service and public appearances before. What’s the reason behind this?”

It was Orion who answered her question. “The most important thing to us is to make sure our fans are having a good time. Without them, we wouldn’t be where we are now; it’s not a lot, but this is our way of thanking them.”

“Is this the reason for your upcoming special show tomorrow? Reserved for the indigent foster care children?”

Her eyes flicked between Merula and Orion. “It’s no secret you two have a history with the system. One orphaned at such a young age, the other the daughter of convicted criminals, bound to be raised in the shadows of her parents’ deeds. Two unlikely siblings, not bound by blood but by trauma - how does it feel to risk a look into your own past?”

“It’s a show like any other,” Merula replied bluntly, crossing her arms in front of her chest. She scowled at the blonde reporter. “No need to make a big deal out of this.”

Orion inclined his head in Merula’s direction. “What Merula wants to say is, we make no difference in what good cause we are supporting, as long as we can put a smile on the faces of those who need it, even if only for a little while. We do have our past in the care system, that is common knowledge, but as Merula pointed out already, this is in the past. If you want to continue on your path, it is no good walking with your gaze turned backwards. We live in the here and now, so it’s what’s in front of us that matters.”

The slight twitch around the corners of Rita’s mouth was almost too quick to catch, but Lizzie had seen it nonetheless. Apparently, Orion had given her the exact bridge to her next question she had hoped for.

“If you want to speak about the here and now, I’ll be too happy to fulfill your wish,” she cooed. “Now that we’re speaking on a more personal level anyway, I just have to ask. You guys are living everyone’s wildest dreams, a life all of us mere mortals can only imagine.” Her eyes sparkled behind her glasses. “It’s only us here, you can trust me; what about the juicy stories? Any tales of sex, drugs and rock ‘n’ roll you want to share with the world?”

Lizzie subconsciously bit the inside of her cheek, hoping Rita hadn’t noticed before she got herself under control again; this woman was a bloodhound when it came to scandals. If she ever found out what was going on between Orion and her, Lizzie might just as well bury herself alive.

Luckily, Orion wasn’t fazed by her question. “The only passion we share is the love for our music,” he smiled noncommittally. “As professional musicians we try to keep our public and private lives separated.”

Rita’s eyes gleamed as she leaned forward. “You try to keep them separated?”

Before Lizzie couldn’t help it, her eyes flickered to Orion again.

“We have been friends for years, of course our lives intervene in places. The friendship between us we show to the world is genuine and not for show.”

“Friendship, huh?” Rita’s nostrils flared as her eyes swept the round. “Come on, we’re all adults here. So many gorgeous young people spending their time together all day, everyday? Don’t tell me you’re all staying up drinking apple juice and playing board games.”

Her attention shifted so suddenly that Lizzie was taken by surprise. “What about you, Lizzie? Any stories to tell?” She looked her up and down critically. “If you ask me, you and Jason would make quite the pair. The golden girl and the bad boy? People live for stories like that.”

Everett sighed wistfully. “Just call me Ev, Rita, everyone does. But yeah, that’s what I’ve been telling her for years now, but so far to no avail. Perhaps she’ll listen to you.”

Lizzie was relieved when he immediately started laughing his words off. “I’m joking of course; Orion is right. The band is our job and our management wants us to keep things professional. There’s other ways to live the rockstar lifestyle,” he finished with a wink.

Rita pursed her lips in a knowing smile. “That I believe in a heartbeat. Fill me in guys, between us, how is it with the ladies? The bad guy with an angel’s voice and the soulful songwriter and his magic hands… you must be spoiled for choice.”

Everett grinned and leaned back against the sofa. “I can’t complain, is all I’m saying.”

“How about you Orion? Dark eyes, messy hair, all those tattoos - your fans must love this,” she winked with a sly smile, “At least I know where I would try to go after a show if I was a little younger.”

Lizzie tried very much not to roll her eyes.

“Even if they do, I wouldn’t know of it,” Orion answered serenely. “While I love all our fans dearly, my relationship with them ends when our show does.”

“So no stories behind your many tattoos? No tales of long lost love?”

“I didn’t say there are no stories,” Orion replied, “only that they have nothing to do with any fans of ours.”

Trying to steer the conversation to a less dangerous topic, he started explaining the stories behind some of the less meaningful tattoos on his wrists and arms. Lizzie knew each and every one of them by heart, the pictures as familiar to her as Orion’s smile when she ran her fingers over his painted skin.

What he didn’t mention was the biggest of his tattoos and her favourite one; the giant dreamcatcher running along the whole length of his back. Thinking about the intricate lines made a little smile appear on her face.

She didn’t even notice Rita asking her way through the rest of her friends until the reporter’s attention turned to her.

“All of your friends seem to be quite the fans of body art; what about you, Lizzie? Do you have any tattoos as well?”

Lizzie flashed Rita the brilliant but noncommittal smile reserved for the people she just couldn’t stand. “I do have one, yes.”

Rita raised an eyebrow when she didn’t continue. “And where might that be?”

Lizzie chuckled in response. “That will stay my little secret.”

Her gaze was fixed on Rita, but out of the corner of her eye she could see Orion fighting hard to suppress a grin. Of course, he knew exactly where it was.

Rita blinked, clearly irritated by her answer, the same empty smile that was on Lizzie’s face never leaving her red lips.

“Very well, keep your secret - for now. I’ll find out eventually.”

Her smile broadened, a dangerous glint shining in her eyes. “All secrets have their way of ending up with me, one way or another.”

Rita stood up from her armchair to get herself something to drink. When she turned her back on them, Lizzie slowly breathed out, relieved to have the blonde’s prying eyes taken off her.

As the others got up to leave the set as well, Orion and Lizzie’s eyes met for a moment. A smile was playing around his lips as they dropped to where her tattoo was hidden from everybody else’s sight.

She felt her lips curve into a smile of her own and she crossed her arms in front of her chest, her hand resting over the small spot on her ribcage where the words that resonated with her so much were inked into her skin. Seeing what she was doing, Orion couldn’t contain his grin any longer. Judging by the twinkle in his eyes, the memory of when he had first seen them was playing just as vividly in his mind as it did in hers.

#hphm #hogwarts mystery #rockstar au #orion amari #lizzie jameson #merula snye #skye parkin #when stars ignite #wsi #besties collaborate

[juniorgman187]

Love & Other Drugs (Reid Fic) Part 2

Summary: Reid’s addiction is proven to stand in the way of many things, including his and Reader’s first kiss.  Pairing: Fem!Reader x Season 2/ Season 3 Spencer Reid Category: Mini-series, Angst Word Count: 4k Content Warning: Allusions to addiction, fear of flying

PART 1 HERE!

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 

It took all of me not to pay attention to the way Spencer led me through the park by holding my hand, but my heart was beating like a hammer against cloth. I fear he might’ve even heard it thumping out of my chest whenever he’d look over his shoulder and make sure I was still there behind him. There was always a small smile that followed his action, a physical manifestation of his joy when he looked back and saw me already looking at him, too.

Was this the Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde duality I was suspicious of witnessing on the first day we met? Because I assure you, if you had told me that the guy I met that day was capable of taking me to a silent film in a field, I wouldn’t have believed you, much less that I’d agree - even want - to go. Even now, I’m not sure this feels real. 

“This is a good spot, right? It’s equidistant from the car to the scree-”

“It’s perfect.” I quickly shut him up with a lighthearted laugh. 

He sighed happily and released my hand for a brief moment to lay down the blanket for us to sit on. At first when we sat down, we were both too shy to be too close. 

Here again, Spencer saw our glaring similarities peeking through. Not just in our mutual bashfulness, but in the way we were sitting; both of our legs were outstretched in front of us as we leaned back on our hands. 

In a pure-of-heart manner, I felt Spencer extend his pinky to graze over mine. That was the extent of our physical touch, but even with as little of an action as it was, it still gave me more butterflies than any hand-holding, hug, or kiss ever had. That’s how magical his touch was ... how magical he was. 

Had I not been observing him from my peripherals, I might’ve not noticed his relentless staring. I calculated it later on, but I think he watched me more than he watched the movie. I would even argue that he looked at me like the whole world could crumble and still, he wouldn’t blink. 

It was somewhere in the climax of the film, where Spencer leaned in, and I followed suit, taking his sudden movement as an indication that he was going to whisper something in my ear. 

“Souls do not have calendars or clocks, nor do they understand the notion of time or distance,” After a minute of confusion, I quickly realized he was vocalizing the dialogue of the silent movie. “They only know it feels right to be with one another.”

Though this was a direct quote from the film, it felt like he was speaking it right to me, and I had to think that there was some sort of special significance to this statement, otherwise why would it be the only one he chose to say out loud out of all the inaudible verses he could’ve chosen from? 

Souls do not have calendars or clocks, nor do they understand the notion of time or distance. They only know it feels right to be with one another. I recited in my head. 

I’d already been looking at him, but now, I was actually seeing him. 

I think my soul recognized his. 

My eyes unintentionally fell to his lips, giving him the green light to lean in even closer. There was nearly no distance between us; I could feel his breath fanning over my mouth, but right as I inclined forward, a drop of water ran down my cheek. It shocked me and made me recoil backward, seizing the distance I advanced. 

All at once, many more drops of rain came, earning squeals and yelps from the crowd. Chaos erupted in the form of abandoned blankets, a dampening film screen, and squelching grass under the pitter patter of a hundred running feet. With ardent conviction, Spencer took my hand so we could run to the car to escape the rain beating down on us. I heard him laugh and it made me do just the same. We were so happy just running in the rain. 

“Get in! Get in!” Spencer shrieked as he opened my door to slide me into the passenger seat. It didn’t go unnoticed that he still took the time to be a gentleman despite the chaos of the storm. 

We were both audibly breathless when he finally got into the car, our panting steaming up the car and casting fog on all surrounding windows. 

“Oh god,” I sighed when I examined the state of my stringy hair in the visor’s mirror. 

The sound of rain relentlessly pelting the windshield, sounding more like heavy hail than delicate drops of water, mixed with the sound of our breathlessness as the adrenaline coursed through our veins. I looked over at Spencer to see his cheeks flushed red from the running and how his hair had been dampened into wet curls and I had laughed. 

“What? Why are you laughing at me?” He innocently asked. 

“No, no I’m not laughing.” I said, while laughing. 

“Yes, you are! Why? What’s so funny?”

“Nothing, you’re just so …” My voice faded out upon the realization that we were exactly as we were before the rain started to fall - centimeters apart. 

There was nothing I wanted more than to kiss him, and I actually might’ve after he gently caressed my face while drawing me nearer. We both shut our eyes in preparation for what we thought would be the world’s greatest, most addictive kiss, but I felt myself draw back and hesitate. It was on instinct; a completely separate motion from my mind, but my body did it anyway, as if it knew something that my mind didn’t. 

“Okay, okay - we don’t have to kiss.” He instantly surrendered, pulling away completely. 

“No, no it’s not that. I did want to kiss you.” I said with utter frustration at myself for ruining the moment like that, especially because I didn’t even mean to back out, I just did. 

“But?”

But I needed to figure out my feelings before I toyed with his. 

I couldn’t kiss him because it would’ve been selfish. It would’ve been a careless action in the heat of the moment and it would’ve told him that I had romantic feelings for him and that I always had, but I didn’t know if that was really true. I mean, originally, I wasn’t spending time with him because I liked him like that - I was spending time with him because I was stubborn, and curious, and combative, and everything he didn’t deserve. And while my feelings may have changed, maybe into something more genuine, I never wanted to lead him on - even if I did feel the same way. 

He is such a good guy, and I would’ve brought ruin upon him even further. 

“But um, if we stay in our wet clothes any longer, we’ll probably get sick.” I told him, lying right through my teeth. 

He seemed to accept this as an answer, but this determination was based off of my limited perception of him, considering he was well on his way to driving out of the parking lot before I could look at him any further. 

The air was colder now, and not just because of the heavy rainfall. There was clearly a shift in our dynamic, probably because he didn’t know how to act around me anymore, but still, I made no attempts to change that. I think I was just as confused as he was and any more muddling of the situation on my part would’ve only made things worse. It was better that I left things alone this time. 

“Thank you. For the ride.” I awkwardly chirped when he dropped me off; this was the first words spoken the entire duration of the car ride. 

He pursed his lips once more into a thin line, and this time I recognized that this wasn’t a smile. “No problem.” 

Something in me was tethering me to this car and it wouldn’t let me leave. 

I had to tell him. 

“Hey, Spencer?” I glanced over my shoulder with my hand still on the interior car handle. “I’m sorry.” 

He shook his head almost with a laugh. “Don’t be sorry. You did nothing wrong.” 

And maybe he was being truthful, maybe he was being so incredibly honest, but a part of me just couldn’t believe that he was sincerely okay with my denial of his kiss. But then again, maybe it was me who wasn’t sincerely okay with the denial of his kiss. 

There were words still left unspoken hanging in the air, but neither I, nor him, decided to vocalize them. Maybe in some way, we already knew. 

In one swift motion, I opened the door and left his car while the rain drummed on me.

I would be lying if I said I didn’t stall my walk a little just to avoid reaching a distance too far from his car to hear him call out a protest to stop. Maybe I was even waiting for him to join me in the rain, as hopelessly romantic as that sounds. 

“(Y/n)?” 

Like an expectant animal, my ears perked up when I heard Spencer call out my name over the hood of the car. “Yes?” 

He looked down briefly before mustering up the courage to say, “I’m sorry, too.” For what reason he was apologizing, I didn’t know.

“Why?”

“I was a jerk to you the first day I met you and you didn’t deserve that.” He finished his sentence, but I could tell there was something more he wanted to say. If he had said it, I imagine he would’ve finally admitted what we both couldn’t stop thinking about. 

His addiction. 

“You’re forgiven,” I lightheartedly laughed with the hope that he understood there was nothing I needed to truly forgive him for. 

As quickly as he must’ve exited his car, he just as quickly re-entered it. With his voice and mine banned from speaking, the sound of the storm was almost loud enough to drown out the sound of Spencer’s car driving away before I’d even reached my door - almost. It was then that I turned over my shoulder to observe his yellow headlights glowing against the world’s grayness, but the warm yellow slowly disappeared behind his harsh red back lights as he drove off. The poignant red of his back lights was all the more a reminder that he was leaving me, and that I was alone. It was such an empty feeling. 

As I stood in the rain watching him drive away, I grew more and more disgusted with myself. I should’ve stopped him from leaving. I should’ve said everything I wanted to. 

Just then when I came to that very realization, a frigid gust of wind nearly knocked me over. Nature’s cruel irony had never been so apparent to me until this moment. 

You’ll understand why storms are named after people. 

And I was his. 

_ _ _ 

The Behavior Analysis Unit in Quantico is requesting your presence. The email read. 

There’s a name I hadn’t seen in a while - the B.A.U. It’d been what - almost a year now? I hadn’t seen or heard from Spencer since our poorly-ending-movie-date, hence why I bitterly laughed at my screen as I swirled a red sucker in my mouth. “As you wish, Your Highness.” 

Fully expecting to see my station - and only my station - when I leaned forward off my desk, I turned around only to be met with my station and something else. 

Or should I say someone else?

Because Spencer was there, too. 

“Spencer!” I nearly choked on the lollipop that was now loosely hanging from my mouth after my ceaseless coughs successfully dislodged it from my throat. He chuckled in pure amusement at my reaction. At last, when my cough subsided, I was finally able to croak out the question, “What are you doing here?” 

While I waited for his answer, I took his pause as an opportunity to really grasp him in his new form. His hair was much longer than I remembered it being, and it sure had a lot less hair gel, too. He also looked much better, and by that I mean, he didn’t read so much as an addict anymore. His appearance wasn’t untidy anymore, his fidgeting and anxiousness had withered away, and if I didn’t know any better, I think this was a good sign. 

He wasn’t addicted to whatever he was addicted to anymore. 

Of course, he answered my question before I had the chance to breach the subject. “I thought I saw a sign outside the door prohibiting food inside the lab.” 

His eyes turned to slits as a physical display of his sarcasm while he walked around the station to meet me on the other side but with a tantalizingly slow pace. With every word he said, he inched closer and closer until finally, we were so close that I could actually smell his cologne. “Unless, of course, I’m mistaken, and this lollipop is currently under examination.” 

It was unlawful how he could pull off saying something so nerdy. He had no right to sound as sexy as he did. 

“Ooh, yes. Talk dirty to me, Doctor.” I purred jokingly, pulling him in by the fabric of his tie. Even he couldn’t keep up his cool guy act in the face of my jest. He laughed before he could even think not to.

“You’re ridiculous,” He shook his head. “And a bad girl.”

Again - that should not have sounded as sexy as it did. 

“Is this how you fulfill your need for excitement? By sneaking suckers into your lair and breaking the rules.” His tone was thick with playful mockery, but the kind where it wasn’t as offensive as it was just to make fun.

“For your information - this job is plenty exciting enough as it is. Especially whenever a Doctor sneaks into my lab.” 

He caught the reference of himself but didn’t bother entertaining it with a laugh. He couldn’t keep his eyes on mine long enough to disguise the way he persistently stared. He was still too focused on the inner workings of my mouth and the candy. It was rather entertaining, if I do say so myself. I could even see the gears in his brain turning. He was clearly formulating something according to the display of squinted eyes and knitted brows. 

My suspicions were confirmed when all of a sudden, he firmly pinched my chin with his index finger and thumb to pucker my lips enough to create a small opening for him to successfully rob my mouth of the sweet. 

“Hey!” I whined. “I wasn’t done eating that!” 

Dominance gleamed in the sheen of his narrow eyes. He was enjoying this. “You are now.” 

My childish pout and grumpy expression asked him to tell me why. To which he answered, “Because we’ve got a flight to catch.” There were so many questions I had. We? A flight? Luckily, I needn’t verbalize them because he answered me anyway. 

“I rode on the jet to pick you up and take you back to Virginia.” 

I lightly scoffed, not actually believing what he was saying was true. “And how’d you manage that?” 

Though I was skeptical, Spencer went on to explain that the team needed me immediately, so they were willing to fly me to Virginia on the jet, but it would be best if one of them escorted me. Seeing as Spencer was more my equal than anyone else, they thought he would be the best flying companion - hence, the flight we were catching. It wasn’t until then that I actually believed him. 

Would you believe it if I told you we were up in the sky in less than 30 minutes? It’s almost as if this was their routine. I’d bet they had grown accustomed to the hectic energy and keeping up with the rush that their jobs demanded, but as a toxicologist, I was taught that taking my time was for the better. I had yet to get used to the fast pace of the B.A.U, which manifested itself in the worst form possible - fear of flying. 

Truthfully, I’d never actually been on a plane before, let alone a jet. I’m sure Reid could tell you a whole heck of a lot more about it, but common sense is that private jets are faster than regular commercial airlines. Jets are specifically built for speed and efficiency. Not to mention they fly at higher cruising altitudes to avoid airline air traffic. So currently flying on the jet meant that I’d entirely skipped the baby step of a regular plane ride that would’ve eased me into this experience - I was jumping right into the deep end. 

Leave it up to the profiler across from me to notice the way I clutched my seatbelt that I couldn’t trust would protect me, or the way I would grip the armrest when we inevitably experienced turbulence, or the deliberate avoidance of the view out the window so I wouldn’t have to confront the realization of just how high up we were. 

“Bad flyer?”

“Yes and no. Yes because I’m terrified of heights, and no, because I’ve never actually been on a plane before, so I haven’t been on enough flights to earn such a title,” my voice quivering as I spoke. 

His eyes widened with visible shock. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that he almost didn’t believe me. “You’ve never been on a plane before?”

“Never.” 

“Ever?”

“Never.” 

Something like a laugh escaped him. “Well you know what that means?” 

I couldn’t be bothered to entertain his mind games so I bluntly questioned, “No, what does it mean?” 

“A fear of flying indicates deep-rooted issues of control - or lack thereof. Do you like to be in control?” His words were testing me. He didn’t actually want to know if I liked being in control, he just wanted me to admit to my weakness. 

And it was somewhere in his teasing that a button must’ve been pressed because what I said next could only be the actions of someone who’d reached their breaking point - someone completely ruthless. “Well, you’re not so perfect yourself, Doctor. We still have yet to talk about the elephant in the room.” Again, I never handled things with much grace, but this by far - was something that I shouldn’t have touched with my tactless hands. 

Spencer wasn’t dumb - he knew what I was talking about, and he knew that I knew he would know what I was talking about, so luckily, he spared us the time and didn’t bother playing dumb. “Yeah, I know,” He bashfully whispered, making me feel all the more guilty about bringing it up. 

“I’m sorry,” I quickly apologized. “I shouldn’t have said anything. It’s just that I noticed you look a lot healthier since the last time I saw you, and I was gonna mention something to you about it in a much nicer way, but it just came out of my mouth right now.” 

“I am doing better. I quit completely 10 months ago.” He explained. (Oh, I stand corrected. It hadn’t been a year since I’d last seen him - just 10 months ago). “But, um . . .” 

Those two words alone were enough to make me prepare for the worst. 

“Recently, I saw this … this kid get shot in front of me,” His voice grew weary. “I thought I could save him, but I didn’t and he died. Right in front of me. And ever since then, I’ve been having - in the literature of the program - what they call ‘cravings’.”

I responded all too quickly, I knew that. I probably should’ve waited, came up with something more sympathetic, but instead, my brain went into autopilot and I asked the most unsympathetic thing you could possibly ask an addict. “Are you getting any help? Like from a professional. I’m not talking about meetings, I’m talking about -”

“Why do you do that?” He cut in. It wasn’t until I heard his voice interrupt my own that I looked at him and saw his countenance. He was pissed. “Why do you always try to fix me?”

This blow to my ego shattered my heart and hardened my defensiveness. “What? What are you talking about? I’m not trying to fix you.” 

He rose from his seat with such speed that I nearly got a head rush from it and couldn’t understand how he didn’t. 

“You’ve been trying to fix me since the day we met!” His voice boomed to a decibel I didn’t recognize. I’d never seen him so angry or so loud before. If I had to make a bet, the pilot could hear exactly what he’d just said - clear as day, as if he was sitting in the co-pilot’s seat right next to him.

With just as much rage, I unbuckled my belt, and for the first time in this entire plane ride, I stood up from my seat - just so I could be equal to him, to show him he shouldn’t dare try to talk down to me. Not after everything that I’ve felt for him.

“Oh, I’m sorry, would you rather I do what your team did? Just pretend your addiction didn’t exist? Walk on eggshells every hour I’m with you? Avoid and ignore every sign? I mean it worked out pretty well, right? Considering a year later, you're still having cravings.” I knew that I’d just crossed multiple lines with my blatant sarcasm, with my insulting of his team and insulting of him. I undoubtedly touched a nerve, but he visibly bit his tongue back before he said something he might regret. 

“Spencer, do you realize that this would be the reaction of anyone watching somebody they love struggle with addiction?” I could see a shift in his demeanor at one point during my sentence. His shoulders relaxed; something I said softened him, but I wouldn’t even come to realize what it was until he pointed it out later. With his silence taken as an allowance to continue, I added, “I pity you if you think that I’m overreacting, because really, I’m doing what everyone in your life should’ve been doing if they really cared about you.”

“You love me?” 

His question seemed so random, so out-of-the-blue, that I wondered where that was evening coming from. In the heat of our argument, I hadn’t even caught my own freudian slip.

“You said, ‘this would be the reaction of anyone watching somebody they love struggle with addiction.’ Are you saying you love me?”

It was probably the first time in this entire discussion that I actually paused to think, but all I could think to do was deflect. It was the only way to spare myself the humiliation. So without a better response, I asked, “So what if I do? That doesn’t change anything.”

“It changes a lot, (y/n).” 

“Oh, really - what does it change?” I challenged. 

“Now, I can finally do this.”

He pulled me in so fast I didn’t have time to think, let alone register that his lips had just collided with mine, or that I was consciously kissing him back. To deepen the kiss, he tilted his head to the side and even sneaked his tongue into my mouth when I parted my lips to breathe the air I was being deprived of. The lack of oxygen to my brain from the way he was swallowing me whole was enough to make me dizzy and lightheaded, and more than enough to make me lose all inhibitions. 

After a year, excuse me, after 10 months, of waiting for the kiss, of waiting for the right moment, or prolonging it while it simultaneously lingered over our heads, we finally kissed. At last, we released the anguish, the desire - everything. We were kissing like we’d never kissed before in our lives and were desperately anxious to know the feeling, and in some ways, that was sort of true. 

So if love really is an addiction, then consider me addicted.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 

taglist: 

@rexorangecouny @criminal-jive @andiebeaword @annesauriol @nymeria-targaryen @shae2001bts @sweetboyspencer @archiveofadragon @inkstainedgirl 

#love & other drugs part 2 #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x fem!reader

[nightswithkookmin]

With the grammy bomb im more than certain that there is a strain between jikook. They do interact but in a way that is so aloof. Their habitual gravitating towards one another doesnt happen anymore. And im talking about all the recent stuff from october onwards. Jk purposefully rear towards other members and i find jimin to be only open towards namjoon. All of his other interactions on cam are to make sure that everything is fine between him and others. And jk purposefully ignores or avoids jimin and doesnt have that unrestrainable affection towards him anymore. I say all this as a longtime jikook supporter. Honestly even if they had their 'fighting' periods i have never seen jk this dismissive. At least jimin isnt as affected as before. I dont understand how no supporter is admitting the obvious distance of jk.

Why are you being mean to me though😭

Please read my blogs. I think I have talked about this topic several times now.

May be I spoke 'too soon' before the loud moments that make these things obvious to most but still, I've addressed it nonetheless.

I feel if I respond to this, I'd just be repeating myself over and over at this point and frankly it gets boring for the people that read me- I think. Lol. I mean, once I start I never shut up. Lmho. So sorry in advance.

I agree with everything you've said, as well as all the observations you've made. I'm with you on it. Except, you made no definitive conclusions I could agree on, rebut, or share an opinion on. There is a strain on their relationship..... therefore? Lol.

I don't mean this in a rude way. I just don't think it's enough to point that out without drawing conclusions- unless you are simply taking notes of those moments? Or are you concluding that the strain is a sign Jikook are fighting, having problems or that they have broken up?

Not every tension between Jikook is a bad thing if you ask me or even as a result of them having issues in their relationship. This is something I keep regurgitating in my blogs. Not to say they don't have issues, they do. Hell, I get dragged by my roots on these streets for saying they fight, or even break up sometimes like any real couple would. They are real and they have real couple's problems sometimes too like any regular joe.

I'm glad you pointed out though, that Jimin doesn't seem as affected by JK's 'dismissive' attitude as before. Shouldn't that tell you that is a sign there is nothing wrong with their relationship this time around? Jikook is not one sided. JK isn't the only party to their relationship, neither is Jimin. They have an equal and sometimes opposite reaction to each other. One person's attitude or change in attitude tends to produce a ripple effect on the other. In my opinion.

If JK were to be 'dismissive' at all, it would emotionally and physically impact Jimin and he would have a reaction to it like he did in run 106. Compared to this, he didn't seem at all affected by JK's 'attitude' just as you've pointed out.

As I said a while ago, I honestly don't think or believe they are fighting or that they are broken up either- not to me anyway. Lol. I mean you could still pretty much see the intimacy between them in that footage. Jikook don't need to engage in skinship or overt and loud interactions to show they are intimate. And most times their overt and loud skinship and interactions are devoid of intimacy. That's the thing about intimacy, you can't fake it or hide it.

Jimin turning towards JK in his fit of excitement is a sign of intimacy between them regardless of whether he actually hugged JK or not. Then later on the couch, you could see him yearning for JK.

There were three people in that room- may be more if you count staff and yet JK was the only one Jimin seemed to want an answer from.

He was the one Jimin was emotionally inclined towards. The one who's comfort and affection he sought after- bless his heart, he hit his head on some solid rock knees and everything trying to pursue his need for physical closeness and affection from JK. If they were broken up or fighting, he wouldn't go to JK for his emotional needs.

He could try and 'interact' with JK, do the fanservice bit with him but he wouldn't go to him with his emotional needs- that would be inappropriate and unfair to JK. Jimin is an emotionally intelligent guy and he has a lot of thoughts and consideration for people's feelings and he is well aware of his limits and just how much he can push or get away with.

And I cite his Log with JK, where he announced he had started developing feelings for JK and then turned to JK to ask if he was ok with him saying that much on camera.

Thus, if he is emotionally 'gravitating' towards JK then it's indication there is a level of intimacy and a mutual understanding between them that JK fulfills an emotional need and ought to fulfill that emotional need for him.

And yes, I agree. Him hesitating when he wanted to hug JK is a sign there is something stressing their dynamics which is something I pointed out when that Grammy reaction video first came out. I knew something was stressing their dynamic but I couldn't figure out what because it was a very short video with not much going on in there.

The behind the scenes however, chilee. Lol.

I mean if you consider the fact JK went from moving a distance to console Jimin when he was crying on stage during the October ON:E concert, and you look at all the moments we've had from their overt flirting in 2021 season's greetings, the sexual innuendos in the BE behind scenes video, JK sniffing Jimin's hair in the Be unboxing video to that moment on the couch when Jimin hit his head on JK's knees- that shit look like it hurt. Damn. JK what is your knees made of! Lmho.

I am uncomfortable discussing a Jikook era or phase when it's on going on. I like to simply take note of certain moments and discuss them in post by reconstructing the timeline to place content in its rightful timeframe.

I can only share with you my working theory on such moments and for the most part, like I said previously I feel Jikook- especially JK is having issues with the company. Perhaps because the company stumbled on something they weren't supposed to see.

As for Jikook's personal development, I think we all saw this development coming, didn't we? After JM's birthday fiasco? I think I hypothesized at the time that whoever was in the 'wrong' in that situation would come swinging hard on their Jikook agenda in the aftermath. And with that whole GCF Tokyo reference, signing his name to JK's name at the pop up, the stealing looks at JK during interviews, checking him out left right left, trying to make Jk 'jealous' with RM at the Be press con red carpet, it's not hard to figure out who did what in that birthday situation.

I plan on writing a blog on this very topic, because I've received quite a few Asks about my thoughts on JK outing Jimin, military service and others that I find intriguing and want to discuss but I also want to discuss Vminkook dynamics, Jikook boundaries and I don't know which one to get into first. When I'm torn between options I end up not making a choice at all. Lol.

All I can say in regards to Jikook and their on going 'situation' is that- I love it. Lol. I love their dynamics, I love where they are at in their love journey, I love where they are heading. Jikook is just beautiful in every sense of the word.

I love what JK is doing. I love where he has gotten my bias to- which is confronting himself and figuring out what he wants from their relationship. Because, honestly you can't have your cake and eat it. It just doesn't work that way.

What you are seeing is just JK asserting himself against Jimin I'm afraid. It's the push and pull thingy all over again.

I keep talking about 'the boy in love with Jungkook' being a facade and persona Jimin hides behind to love JK and most people don't understand.

JK's persona is not the boy in love with Jimin. It's the boy cold and shy who rejects Jimin- well at least that was the persona he had in their early dynamics around debut.

He has since shed that persona and the bold, fearless, assertive JK we see on the screens is him choosing to unapologetically express his love and feelings for Jimin. And jimin enjoys that.

But you take a look at Jimin, and you don't see that drastic change in his persona or the way he expresses himself with JK- I mean let's call a spade a spade.

Do I think Jimin loves JK? Absolutely. Do I think he is being authentic in the way that he expresses those feelings to JK on camera? Only to an extent.

It's obvious who Jimin is to JK or even the way he expresses himself and his love for JK is slightly different off camera than the persona we see on our screens. For one, clearly JK is not used to seeing Jimin prioritize others over him or be overly affectionate with others besides him. I mean it's been seven years. Ten, if you count the periods before. You'd think JK would get used to JM doing skinship with others or showing affection for the others especially since they've lived together over half of the time and yet here we are, frying pans away from the apocalypse whenever any member breaths near Jimin. Damn JK. Lmho.

Do I think his persona is slightly exaggerated? Yes. But I also think JM downplays his love for Jk with his 'Mr I'm available' personality, his Kumbaya attitude, and his I'm just a nice guy on the block character, which often leads to people questioning whether or not he treats JK different from the group. Don't get me wrong JK does this too.

Jimin loves JK. But at this point the question is is he expressing that love in the way that meets JK's emotional needs? Is he allowing JK to love him and express the love he feels for him in the way that makes him happy?

I think that's what the birthday fiasco is all about.

If you don't want JK openly showing and expressing his love for you in a way that he wants to and in a way that holds meaning to him and makes him feel fulfilled as well in the relationship then what is the point of him holding on to the glass closet?

Two can play that game. Lol.

It's JK's needs above the groups and I feel he is putting it right up there next to JM's needs because they are both valid.

You should have seen JK's face when Jimin decided tell the truth about his location on September 1st in that BB press interview.

I remember pointing out that when JM started that narration with the first person pronoun he was going for a well curated narrative perhaps one the group had agreed on prior to avoid confirming his location on the JK's birthday like they had tried to do during the VLive but dropped that and went with the honest truth the moment he started talking about being with Jk and using 'we' instead of 'I' in his speech.

I'm glad the interviewer from his Weverse magazine interview confirmed and pointed out this tell or habit of Jimin when he speaks,

"When he’s talking, Jimin often starts his sentence with phrases like, “I just,” “it just,” “they just …” But then he immediately goes on to open up about his feelings, always providing a sincere response."

At least now we know for sure he wasn't lying about his location- for all those who called him a liar.

Anywho, my point is it makes JK happy when Jimin expresses his love and feelings for him. But it also makes him happy when he is able to show the world just how much JM means to him.

He didn't get those tattoos for nothing. He didn't do the GCFs for nothing. He didn't nibble on his ear in front of thousands of people for nothing- had he posted for Jimin on his birthday, given how he hadn't done that for anyone in a year, it wouldn't have been for nothing either. In my opinion.

When I tell y'all Jimin is gonna wake up one day with JK's ring on his finger and he wouldn't know what hit him. Chilee. Lmho.

Listen, JK is in love LOVE with Jimin. It's my opinion and I'm gonna treat it as fact because I believe it- if you disagree keep it to yourself. I don't wanna hear it. Lol.

That boy is in love with my bias. Ain't nobody gonna tell me nothing. Lol.

Seriously though, JK loves Jimin and he loves expressing those feelings for him. He goes overboard sometimes with it to the point it's borderline outing but we don't talk about that. Lol.

He's progressed through out the years from hiding his feelings for Jimin, whispering I love you's to JM when he thinks JM is alseep, slipping matching plasters onto his finger, all the way to Rosebowl.

If you ask me, he wants to be Jimin's equal in every sense of the word and as much as he loves to be at the recieving end of JM's affections, he enjoys being at the giving end.

And if JM has the cover of 'the boy in love with the Maknae' and it works perfectly for him not just as a persona but the perfect excuse for loving Jk then you gotta wonder what cover JK equally has for loving JM the way that he does. He has none. His every move is questioned by members, by staff, by fans- why do you film Jimin so much, why not put Tae in there for clicks, why are you constantly with Jimin and other invasive questions like that.

Jimin gets away with a lot of things than JK because of his personality and his persona. People would question the things JK does most of the time while dismissing the things Jimin does as either fanservice or as flowing from his personality. Whereas JK cannot get away with those same things.

We paint JK as Jeonlous and possessive but we forget most times he acts that way so Jimin doesn't have to. Jimin has said he doesn't share his friends and yet somehow we think he is ok with sharing his boyfriend with 5 other members or those 5 members with his boyfriend- this is code, let it sink in.

There is a lot of boundaries he instills there and it's equally an expression of possessiveness. Yet it's so subtle you might not even notice.

Jk makes Jimin look cool. He takes the fall so Jimin doesn't have to. When JK takes a step back that's when you see how whipped JM is- the neediness, the clinginess- PJMs give me a break. *rolling my eyes. It needs to be said. I love Jimin too but shit, it is what is. Lol.

I think it's gonna take a while for Jk to open back up to Jimin, to get in the space where he feels safe expressing himself with Jimin the way that he was doing before Jimin's birthday.

It doesn't mean he hates Jimin or doesn't love him or doesn't want him or doesn't care. But I think Jimin needs to step up to show he is on the same page as JK because JK is all about reciprocity. He ain't about to do the one sided unrequited nonsense. Lol.

Honestly all this is part of Jikook's dynamics. This not the first time Jk's closed himself off. The last time he did it was because they had gone through a nasty breakup- I said what I said. In my opinion nonetheless. Lol.

In the aftermath of it, he was expressing similar behavior. In Suga's Birthday Vlive this year for example, when Jimin was clinging to him and had his hands on his leg he didn't take the bait either- man was it frustrating to watch. Lol. But you could see JM wanted that physical connection with him. Did you see his smug face when Jimin was all over him?

I think he is just going through a phase where he needs reassurance of Jimin's love. Jimin is a big guy and he knows his man best and I think he knows exactly what he needs to do to get him to come around. Lol.

I mean he flew all the way from Paris to see him on his birthday didn't he?

I think we have to leave them to it. Just observe them. I hate commenting on a phase like this especially when it's on going. I'd rather talk about it after it's ended and a new phase has begun for them.

Part of supporting Jikook is knowing when to give them privacy and room to just unfold their story and be human. They are a living breathing love story after all.

Jk isn't being distant. He is just not interacting with JM the way we are used to seeing him do. But I feel that's part Bighit asking them to cool off and part him just wanting reassurance from Jimin.

At this point, I want to ask why you want people to acknowledge JK is closed off? To what end? I don't think anyone is denying that they are going through this phase- well the Kumbaya tradshippers are but why do you want me to acknowledge this fact? I already pointed out that there is something stressfing their dynamics.

They have their own personal stuff going on but I don't think it's much of an issue and at the same time they seem to be having issues with their company- You have to take all of that into consideration to see how that affects their dynamics as well.

You have to be aware of the timeline too. Because content is not released in chronological order, it may seem like a rollercoaster ride when in actual sense all of this may have happened with a specific time frame.

When it comes to Jikook always assume they are much closer than you think. Jikook is fine, I believe. Just take mental notes of these things for posterity. I wouldn't be worried about them.

As usual, this has been my opinion. Don't take it too seriously. Keep supporting Jikook. Jikook is real.

Signed,

GOLDY

[stillebesat]

Scales (3/7)

Sanders Sides: Logan, Deceit, Virgil, Roman, Patton Blurb: Deceit hadn’t expected his absence from the Mindscape to be noticed by the others…until Logic knocked on his door. Fic Type: General Warnings: Shedding (snake style), Minor Injuries, Minor Pain, Touch Starvation Taglist in Reblog.

To Catch Up: Prologue Chapter 1 

Deceit struggled to draw a full breath as Logic pushed open the door, peering in before he moved cautiously into his room for the first time, the heat and humidity immediately fogging up his glasses as he did so.  

Logi--Logan frowned, amber eyes darting about as he slipped off the frames, cleaning them with a cloth while he took in every detail from the mussed up bed, to the theater posters on the walls above the piano, to the philosophy and law books scattered across the desk, to land on the sunlamp in the corner. 

Deceit couldn’t help but tense further, watching him investigate the room from the corner of his eye. “What?” He demanded. “You never seen a bedroom before?” 

Logan jumped, cheeks going red as he slipped the glasses back on. “Apologies.” He said, pulling at his tie, loosening the knot. “Your room...wasn’t how I expected it to be.” 

Oh? “And what were you expecting? A cave?” He retorted, heart pounding in his chest as Logan turned his full attention on him. 

The Logical Side cleared his throat, crossing his arms.  “A similar aesthetic to Virgil’s more like.” 

“Like Anxiety’s? Ha.” Deceit smirked, just barely stopping himself from shaking his head and revealing the shed. No, they were rather opposite in their tastes. He had always preferred his room to be lighter and warmer compared to the other Dark Sides. “It’s not always this…warm…but this is my room.” 

“It’s roasting.” Logan corrected, tugging at the collar of his shirt, loosening the buttons. “Why is it so hot?”

Deceit exhaled, a dozen lies running through his mind. The moment of truth. “Because it helps…” He licked his lips, audibly swallowing. 

His stiff arm trembled at his side. He should just lie. Give a different excuse as to why the room was too hot. Why had he even let Logic in in the first place?

“It helps...with--” He hesitated, closing his eye. Come on. Just show him. But it wasn’t like it was easy to show yourself when at your most vulnerable! 

“With?” Logan asked, his voice soft as he came closer. “You can tell me, Lyal. Remember, I am Logic.”

“Like this is logical,” Deceit muttered, human fist clenching. None of the others had to deal with this. None of them had scales. He was the odd Side out with this problem. 

But it was now or...well...now. Logan wouldn’t let it go now that he knew something was wrong. 

Deceit dropped his hand and abruptly turned. “Ithelpswiththis.” He said, struggling to meet Logic’s eyes as he gestured to the left side of his face and torso.

Logan inhaled sharply, eyes going wide behind his frames as he took in Deceit’s appearance, studying the off-white layer of skin that covered his scales from head to naval, dulling the once bright color to a dark sickly green. 

It felt like an eternity before he spoke. 

“You’re about to shed.” 

Deceit relaxed fractionally, watching Logan warily with his human eye. “Yes.” At least the other Side wasn’t...well….screaming in horror.

Logan moved closer. “I should have considered---I thought they were--” He reached out to the scales, but froze as Deceit flinched, twisting his body away from his hand. 

It was one thing to show him his shed, but to have Logic t-touch--. 

A tremor rushed through him. No one ever touched him.  

Logan cleared his throat, hand still raised. “Apologies Lyal. Uh... can I-- may I touch your arm?” 

Deceit made a face to hide his uncertainty, rolling his human eye while the other one remained unmoving, staring straight ahead under the film. He knew, of course, that Logic would want to investigate thoroughly in order to understand. Touch. See. Ex--Experiment. 

“If it’s too tender I don’t have to--” Logan said, pulling back. “I just haven’t seen--”

He exhaled, arm trembling. “Of course you haven’t. No one has.” He couldn’t afford to show weakness. To have them see him...vulnerable. 

Why then had he ever thought it a good idea to let Logic in?! Because he brought up pizza? It was such a stupidly flimsy reason and he’d allowed himself to take it. So weak. 

“Lyal.” Logan said, offering his hand palm up. “I know this must be difficult for you. Even Patton still struggles to open up to us about his feelings when he’s upset. So it’s okay if you need to take it slow--” 

Deceit hunched his shoulders, staring at the floor so he wouldn’t have to see the genuine concern in Logic’s eyes. 

Wasn’t it better than having him freaking out though? Logan hadn’t screamed or looked at him in revulsion. Hadn’t called for Creativity to come slay the monster--maybe...maybe he could be trusted...with this. 

Swallowing, Deceit cautiously lifted his arm, holding his hand out above Logan’s. “Gently.” He said, struggling not to jerk back as Logic drew closer. The others never touched him. “It’s--”

Logan hesitated, tilting his head, amber eyes soft, nearly like Morality's. “Tender?” 

“Sensitive, but that wor--” He flinched, hissing under his breath as Logan’s feather light touch brushed his fingers, burning along the leather-like layer of skin. “Works too.” He got out through gritted teeth, struggling to stay still as Logan trailed his fingers carefully along his arm before moving his hand up to rest the palm against Deceit’s cheek. 

He shakily inhaled, human eye half closing as Logic lightly brushed the shed there with his thumb.  

“More than a little sensitive, to react so.” Logan murmured. “How often does this happen to you?” He asked, peering at the milky eye. “Can you see? How long does this process take? Is this why you haven’t been eating? Does clothing irritate the skin? How much--”

Deceit took a step back away from Logan’s electric touch, the human side of his face growing hot under the barrage of questions. “Do you always play twenty questions with things like this?” He asked, struggling to not turn away under his scrutiny. 

“When given new information, yes.” Logan said with a half shrug as he adjusted his glasses, clearing away the water droplets gathering on them. “I am Logic after all and I want to understand this.” He gestured to Deceit, a thoughtful frown on his face. “As I had previously believed your scales were merely aesthetically placed, but it seems that you have more reptilian qualities than I realized and,” He drew in a breath, meeting Deceit eyes. “I want to know how to help you.”  

Help him? Deceit scoffed, shaking his head. “I don’t need help.” He grimaced as the lie left his lips. If he didn’t need help he would have slammed the door in Logic’s face. “Don’t--”

“Falsehood.”

Deceit exhaled, running his right hand through his hair, staying away from the waxy side. “I know it was a lie, Logic, there’s no need to point it out.”

Logan grimaced, again wiping away the moisture from his lenses. “Apologies. It’s a habit.” 

Of course it was. Logan didn’t like dealing with lies. And Deceit hadn’t made it easy on him by forcing them all to keep silent when Thomas didn’t want to know things about himself. 

“Well, you’ll need to break it if I’m going to continue hanging around you guys.” He stated, gingerly feeling along his arm where Logan had touched him as he moved to sit on the bed. Well, collapse onto the bed. Deceit hissed as his legs trembled even sitting down. He was weak. Far too weak. “I can’t always…not lie.”

“You’re doing rather well right now.” Logan pointed out as he sat nearby, brushing his damp bangs out of his eyes. 

Deceit huffed, gesturing to his shedding skin. “Side effect.” Mostly. It took more effort to Lie while he was like this at least.

“Ah.” Logan frowned. “Actually, that makes no sense at all.”

What about him ever made sense? Deceit raised an eyebrow. “Neither does me having scales.”

“...Point.” Logan conceded, inclining his head, eyes once more studying his shed. “How often does this happen to you?”  

Deceit licked his lips, looking away, showing more of the shed. “Uh...every four to six months. Some--sometimes more if Thomas is going through a lot of--growth--himself. Like--” He gestured to the waxy half of his hair. “This happened when he chose to dye his hair for the first time.” And it had taken two more sheds with it to figure out how to properly care for it without leaving large bald patches behind that he had to hide under his hat.

Logan’s eyes lit up as a small smile appeared on his lips. “That’s why we haven’t noticed your absences before now.” He edged closer, again lightly touching Deceit’s hand. “Am I correct in guessing your last shed was before we invited you--”  

Deceit nodded, his hand burning under Logic’s touch. “Y-yes.” 

“And it lasts a wee--No,” Logan jerked his head up. “This is why you’re worried.” He breathed. “It shouldn’t be taking this long.”

“Three days at most.” Deceit whispered, his human eye briefly holding Logan’s gaze before he looked down. “I...it still feels like Day One. It...it shouldn’t.” His right hand clenched on his leg while the left remained motionless. “I don’t know why.” 

Logan frowned. “This hasn’t happened before?”

Deceit shook his head, stiff under his touch “Not like this. I’ve done…I haven’t changed anything. My usual methods should have worked.”  

“Methods?”

“The heat and humidity. It usually helps to--to loosen it.” Once it was loose enough, the shed would become itchy signaling he could safely scratch or peel it off to reveal the new scales underneath. 

Logan chewed the bottom of his lip in thought as he lightly ran his hand over the shed once more before exhaling, shaking his head. “I admit...I don’t know why it’s not working, your methodology makes sense to me with my basic knowledge of how reptiles shed, but.” He pulled at his tie as he stood. “I don’t think you should stay in here.”

Deceit’s heart skipped a beat. What? “NO!” He tensed up, pulling his left arm close to his chest. “I can’t leave. It’s…” He shuddered, already imagining how it could all go wrong. He could barely navigate his bedroom without hurting himself and now Logan wanted him to leave? No. No. NO. “My depth perception is so screwed right now, I’ll get hurt! I’ll damage the scales further I’ll--”

“I’ll carry you then.” Logan interrupted, his tone gentle but firm. 

Deceit froze. “Carry--!” He choked out in disbelief. But! 

Logic nodded, again tugging at the collar of his shirt. “If I must, Lyal. I’m not willing to leave you here to fend for yourself in such a state.” His eyes glittered as he pushed his glasses up. “I told you I would give my opinion and I’m giving it.” He tilted his head to the door, holding out his hand. “This is not something you should continue to hide from your family nor deal with alone.”

To Be Continued. Chapter 3 

#Scales #stillebesat #Sanders Sides #Deceit #Logan #Logic #shedding tw #minor injuries tw #minor pain tw #touch starvation tw

[bave-de-crapaud]

Flat vs Flat: The Prank War

OH BOY! The Marauders are about to find out what pranking their neighbours really means.

Artwork by UptheHill (@upthehill on IG)

—–

Sirius x Reader Post Hogwarts/Older Sirius Modern-ish AU (still with magic) NSFW! 18+ Word count: 6700+ Disclaimer: All characters are assumed 18+ Warnings: CONTAINS SMUT! DO NOT read if you are under 18! —–

Y/N was standing in the front doorway of her neighbours flat, fuming. Her normal laid back appearance - somewhat masked by her glowering expression - was covered by a curious blue goo, splattered across her jeans, tee shirt, and entire head.  

The three men in residence were staring back at her, barely holding in their laughter as they took in her unsurprising, at least to them, appearance. “Hullo Y/N” said James, his voice quivering trying to hold back his laughter. “What’s wrong? You look blue.” replied Sirius not holding back his laughter and setting James off. Remus, by far the most mature of his peers, managed to hold in his grin and arrange his face appropriately when Y/N flicked her eyes towards him.

She paused, then smiled a little dangerously to the group. “Oh this?” she queried, gesturing to her person. “Someone decided to set up an exploding charm in our bathroom. I seem to have taken the brunt of it.”

All three roared with laughter. Yeah laugh it up boys. Thought Y/N. Just wait for what is in store for you.

Moments before Y/N had been innocently traipsing around her flat, pondering her plans for a sunny Saturday afternoon when she was hit with yet another one of the boys’ infamous pranks. Hearing the scream, Lily, her flatmate ran in to find Y/N wiping blue goo out of her eyes and feeling around for the sink. It was a mark of how much Lily hated the guys’ pranks that she didn’t laugh at the sight of Y/N, now looking like a smurfette. Of course it was them, this had been going on longer than the several years they had been out of school. “I’m going to kill him.” Lily muttered under her breath as she waved her wand and cried ‘Scourgify’ pointing at the bulk of the mess. As Lily was a whiz at cleaning spells, on any other occasion this would have worked however both women had underestimated the length at which James, Sirius, and Remus would go for a laugh.

There was a gurgle and a whooshing noise then the splattered blue substance exploded once again, hitting Lily and more of the wall. She barely had time to turn away before it covered her side and half her front.

“AHHH FUCK! POTTER!” Lily yelled, rousing the third and final flatmate who was currently sleeping, across the hall.

“Here, water seems to be fine.” Said Y/N handing her a towel and hand wash from the sink.

“What is it…whoa!” Marlene giggled the sight of Lily, and Y/N as they turned towards her.

Immediately realising they had been at the receiving end of yet another set up by the guys next door, Marlene smirked as she raised her wand and began to summon a cleaning spell until she was yelled to stop.

“NO! NO! NO!” “THAT MAKES IT WORSE!” Cried Lily and Y/N.

“Fuck!” Exclaimed Y/N “This is getting out of hand.”

“This means payback.” Said Marlene giving Y/N a thoughtful frown.

Lily merely looked at herself in the mirror frowning at her hair.

“What if I had a date?” She cried.

Both Marlene and Y/N turned to her. “Then James would be an idiot for covering you in slime before taking you out, wouldn’t he!” Scoffed Y/N.

“Unless the date wasn’t with him…” Started Marlene.

“WHAT?” Lily cried as Y/N eyed Marlene’s excited expression

“Just hear me out here!”

And so a ruthless, merciless plan was concocted. A beautiful revenge on the three pranksters who thought they were above any rule, beginning with Y/N, knocking calmly and ominously on their front door.

————-

“What can we do for you Y/N?” Said Sirius, a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

“Well Sirius,” she started. “May I take a shower in your bathroom?”

“A Shower?” That got him.

“Yes. Until we figure out how to fix ours, it is unusable and I am in the need of a shower.”

“You want to get in my shower?” Sirius was starting to look a little nervous here.

“Yes.” Y/N considered him for a moment. “I have a date in about, oooh, 40 minutes so I’m in a  bit of a rush.”

The smile fully slipped off his face then.

“This way?” she questioned, already walking forward and pointing at his bedroom door.

“Ah yes, this way, sure, um… why don’t you want to use James’ bathroom?”

Y/N, paused in the doorway to Sirius’ room, turning back around, the boys shocked to see a smile grow wide on her face. “Well Lily will be here shortly, Sirius, she needs a shower too for her date and has specifically asked to use James’ bathroom.”

Y/N could barely contain her laughter as the looks on Sirius’ and James’ face, equally full of horror, stared back at her. This was the perfect revenge. Knowing the girls’ only had one bathroom and each of the men their own, they didn’t realise how far their prank had gone in terms of ruffling feathers and turning against them.

Inclining her head to Sirius once more Y/N did her best to look innocent before saying, “Do you have a towel I can borrow please, Sirius? I seem to have forgotten mine.”

Sirius took one look at Y/N’s retreating back, realising she wasn’t kidding and let his mouth fall open.

Confused and slightly concerned now, he turned to his roommates. Y/N was being far too calm, and this date of hers? No, he didn’t like that at all.

“Better go get one for her, mate.” Said James who was no longer laughing. The thought of Lily going on a date, wiped the hilarity right out of him.

Sirius followed Y/N into his room, and noticed the door to his bathroom was ajar. Say something! His brain urged him.

“Y/N ah, I’m sorry…I didn’t know you…um” He ran his hands down the sides of his jaw before rubbing them together in front of him. “I didn’t realise you were going on a date.”

“Thanks, Sirius. Do you have a towel?”

“Ah yes, here.” Sirius gabbed a fresh towel from his bottom drawer and walked back over to the bathroom door, not quite knowing how to proceed.

“Should I leave it out here for…” His sentence was cut short as Y/N came into view, opening the door wider. She had started to undress and was barely clothed, standing in a red bra, jeans undone; her red lacy underwear peeking out. A dazzling smile covered her features as she took the towel from him, brushing his hand in the process and saying brightly “Thanks Sirius,” before closing the door, leaving him with his mouth hanging open on the other side.

Sirius’ heart was beating fast. Fuck me that lingerie! Her figure, still covered in blue was no longer making him laugh. He exhaled a shaky breath and slowly gathered himself, breathing deep.

He was still standing in front of the door when he heard the sound of his shower turn on and the curtain pull shut. He didn’t know what to do. On the other side of this flimsy square of plywood was the object of his affections. Naked.

Sirius may come across as untouchable yes, but only he and his flatmates knew just how touchable he wanted to be for Y/N. He had noticed her ever since 5th year in Hogwarts but was such a berk he hadn’t said anything to her about his feelings and now thinking about it, this prank was not serving to change that view of him in her eyes.

After Hogwarts, Sirius slowly fell further and further in lust, and love with Y/N. He spent quite a bit of time with her. Being neighbours, they were often at each others’ flats and since James had been making headway with Lily’s affection, Y/N was in Sirius’ world a lot of the time. James was going to kill him for this prank idea. It was mainly his brainchild and if he admitted it to himself it was largely to interact more with Y/N.

Y/N was shaking with adrenaline as she undressed herself fully and stepped in the shower. Marlene’s revenge plan was clear and simple: Seduce. Torment. Have fun. Marlene had been looking for an excuse to try and hook up with Remus for ages. Remus wouldn’t say anything but Y/N knew he fancied Marlene, at least enough for a fling and she definitely would be down for that. Marlene was a goodtime girl and more than once she had mentioned that she’d heard things about the size of his nether region. Y/N knew that revenge was sweet, but trust Marlene to couple it with a side of hot sex. They all knew James was head over heels for Lily and therefore would be panicking about the thought of her going on date without him. No effort was really needed by Lily for her part and then there was Sirius…

“Why do you want me to be paired with Sirius again?” Y/N had asked her as they workshopped the logistics of their plan.

“Because, Y/N,” Lily said, rolling her eyes. “I’ve got James and Marls obviously wants a go at Remus, leaving Sirius for you.”

“Yes I got that, Lily!” replied Y/N slightly annoyed. “But Marly, you’re the queen of seduction - you break hearts everyday! Sirius is possibly going to be the hardest of the three to crack. Don’t you think he won’t be bothered much by my part?”

“No I don’t.” Said Marlene confidently as Lily hummed.

“Break hearts everyday, yes you d…”

“I don’t think he won’t be bothered by you.” Marlene cut you off.

Y/N thought about what Marlene had said as she lathered herself generously in Sirius’ soap. She was not unobservant and had recognised the quiet jabs from her friends about her getting it on with Sirius over the years. In all honesty, she wouldn’t be opposed to the idea even if it was only for a fling - just to experience what it was like to be pressed up against him would be amazing however she wasn’t sure that was a wise idea for their friendship or her heart.

Y/N had nursed a small crush on Sirius for as long as she could remember. She never did anything about it as he was just so damn cool and unattainable. Or so she thought. Sirius got many girls, even though he never seemed to look for a partner and he never led anyone on to believe he wanted a relationship. From what Y/N had seen and heard, women wanting flings and brief encounters were the majority of the people he went out with. Not realising there was a reason behind that, she assumed the guy didn’t like commitment and all he was committed to was his friends.

She had missed the smug smile on Marlene’s face as the three of them gathered what they needed for their prank and organised it into bags. Marlene didn’t know about Y/N’s secret crush, she had an inkling but it was Sirius she was thinking about while pairing him with her friend. She was always curious about why he never wanted a relationship. Sure there is nothing wrong with that, Marlene herself, preferred the single lifestyle right now but when she tried to talk to him about it she got the distinct impression that one night stands and quick flings didn’t seem to make him happy.

This was confirmed as she sat with Y/N on the floor of the boys flat, sharing pizza one Friday night. James was giving Sirius a hard time for never having a girlfriend and why he didn’t commit.

“He just hasn’t found the right girl yet.” said Lily.

“Or maybe he has and she doesn’t want him!” James laughed missing the warning look from Sirius.

“James…” uttered Remus softly, quieting his friend.

James looked around the room and quickly tried to change the subject. Y/N stared at him, wondering what that was. Had he touched a nerve?

Marlene, also picking up James’ the faux pas, instead, looked at Sirius. As she got his attention she looked pointedly at Y/N and then back at him again. Marlene’s suspicions were confirmed as Sirius’ eyes widened and he merely stared back at her pleadingly, shaking his head. She said nothing, giving him a quick nod and returning to her pizza before anyone had noticed their exchange.

It was this interaction that gave Marlene extra motivation to pair Y/N with Sirius. If what she had suspected for a while now didn’t work out like she thought it would, then at least the girls would teach him a lesson about mucking with their bathroom.

—–

Sirius was still collecting his thoughts when Lily arrived, also covered in blue but not quite as bad as Y/N. Her general demeanour was one of business as she burst in, nodded to Remus, and looked straight at James stating, “bathroom?” It was a command. James jumped up and rushed to show her the way to his en suite, noticing she too had not bought a towel.

As James walked back into the lounge, Sirius emerged from his room dazed and looking like he had been slapped in the face. Remus, who despite the obvious conundrum his friends were under was finding this turn of events rather amusing.

“Mate!?”  Sirius started, helplessly to James. Hearing James’ shower going and pointing at the door, “Is Lily in there?” James nodded excitedly.  “I..ah…Y/N in my shower!” They momentarily looked gleefully at each other until Remus brought them back to reality. “You do realise you both have the girls of your dreams, getting ready in your bathrooms for dates with other dudes?”

That sobered Sirius and James up quick smart. James looked at Remus horrified as Sirius ran both hands through his hair clenching his jaw.

Before either of them could reply, Marlene walked through the door carrying three bags, dumping two unceremoniously at Remus’ feet.

“Hi boys!” She beamed brightly. I’m sure Y/N and Lily have told you the situation, I need a shower too - Remus is your bathroom free?” Before he could even surmise an answer she was pointing at each of the bags indicating which one was for Y/N and which for Lily, despatching Sirius and James to deliver these to their owners and swaying her hips off to Remus’ room. A beeline being made to his bathroom.

Remus’ previously smug grin was long gone, he now looked nervously at Marlene’s disappearing back and then back at the boys.

Grins and obvious looks of “ha ha” were showing on James’ and Sirius’ faces. Before they could laugh however he indicated to the bags, wordlessly and moodily suggesting they should do something with them while he got Marlene a towel and prepared himself for having his walking, talking wet dream, naked in his shower.

Sirius re entered his room and noted that the sound of running water had stopped. He tentatively knocked on the door, “Y/N I have your change of clothes.” “Just a minute!” was answered back.

More thoughts of her, centimeters away naked, wet, and just out of reach flashed through his mind

He grunted as he adjusted his pants, feeling the front getting rather tight. He had chanced a look inside the bag revealing her outfit and it did not make him any happier. It was gorgeous, sure but also short, tight, and not for him. She had gone with a beige bodycon thinly strapped short dress with high black heels. Paired with a light flowing trench coat, it was the perfect outfit for a summer’s evening when one wanted to show off and look sexy.

Opening the door Sirius saw a towel-clad beauty, wet hair dripping down her shoulders and cleavage.

His eyes grew wide and his brain stopped working. He had seen partners far more naked before but for some reason, the sight of her like this rendered him speechless.

Thanking him for the bag Y/N closed the door again and got dressed. A quick spell with her wand effectively drying and styling her hair to fall down in soft waves. She pulled out her purse and began to apply makeup, thinking about Sirius’ reaction while she blended her eyeshadow.

If she didn’t know any better, she would almost suggest that Sirius was affected by her. The look on his face, one of shock and potentially arousal, surprised and excited her. It was at this point Y/N smiled knowing the payback was complete, yet feeling competitive and wanting to one-up him, she concluded just a little more teasing would be necessary. A devious smile played on her face as she thought this through, it wasn’t really necessary but it would be oh so good.

Finally ready, squaring her shoulders and letting out a breathy chuckle, Y/N  emerged from the bathroom, looking fresh and sultry.

Sirius wasn’t in the lounge when she returned. James was standing very close to his bedroom door, itching slightly and Remus was pacing in the kitchen.

So far so good, she smiled evilly to herself.

“Have a good night guys!” Y/N called cheerfully. As she exited out the front door she ran into Sirius, smoking a cigarette on the front porch.

He dropped his hand slowly as he watched her closing the door and let out a breath of smoke as he took in her outfit.

It was indeed what he was afraid of. She looked stunning. A slight summer tan evident on her legs which were on far more display than he had ever seen them. Hair falling over her shoulder just asking to be tugged gently. Her eyes sparkled framed by dark lashes. And her lips. He was a sucker for red and the colour on that plump mouth made him think of her red underwear again.

Y/N was looking at him confused. Oh shit she was talking to him and he hadn’t paid attention!

“Can you help me?” Four words he caught.

“Sorry, Y/N,” he rasped and cleared his throat. “Sorry, say again?”

She walked over to him, far too close for a normal conversation, looked him straight in the eyes and said. “Sirius, will you do me?”

WHAT! Alarm bells were ringing in his ears as she turned around, dropped her coat and patted over her shoulder looking at him. The next word out of her mouth confused him. “…up?” Huh? He shook his head, focusing in front of him to a zip undone on the back of her dress.

Oh! She wanted him to do her UP! Was that pause on purpose? Realising he was standing looking at her smooth back, not doing anything he quickly grasped the zip; placed sinfully low on her back and pulled up. He soon realised he needed to create a bit of resistance on the fabric in order to close the zip and gulped as he placed his other hand on the curve where the top of her bum met her lower back.

It was over far too quickly and soon Y/N was turning back around smiling at him. “How do I look?” Curves excellently highlighted by the cupping of her outfit. The almost impossible smooth lines of her dress made him want to run his hands up and down her sides.

“Great” he rasped out.

“Thanks Sirius!” giving him a bright smile and one final look, she floated down the stairs and turned left onto the street.

“Wait!” She heard him call out “Don’t you want your coat?”

Sirius had just noticed the coat crumpled on the front porch realising she hadn’t put it back on.

“Nah! Y/N called back cheerfully, “I’m only going down the road!” Then she turned on her heel again and walked down the street.

Something was stirring in Sirius’ head. She wasn’t wearing a bra… He had just clocked this as he did up her dress. Continuing to watch her, as she walked further and further away he wondered what “down the road meant.” Surely the only date-worthy place was their local pub and it certainly wasn’t first date worthy? His suspicions were confirmed when he saw a figure in the distance, looking like Y/N, cross the road and go through a door that was absolutely the door to their local pub.

As he thought about this, Lily emerged from the door in an equally revealing dress and heels, James running after her; “don’t you want me to call you a taxi Lily?”

“No thanks James, I’m not going far!” Nodding to Sirius, Lily walked swiftly down the steps and also turned to the left.

Sirius finished his cigarette watching Lily. Surely not he pondered to himself again, but no sooner had he thought that, Lily too crossed the road, entering through the same door: the local pub.

Wait a second here. Were they double dating?

He walked back inside thinking. Both James and Remus were still on their feet, they turned to look at Sirius. “Did you know both Lily and Y/N have walked into The Drunken Doxy for their dates?”

“What?” two pairs of questions hung in the air as Remus’ door opened and all three looked at Marlene standing in a strappy black dress and boots.

“Thank you for the shower lads - I hope this has served to teach you not to mess with a girls bathroom again?!” She looked strictly at them, her scowl losing potency with the twinkle in her eyes.

As she made to walk out the door, Remus called out, “do you need a lift? Where are you going?”

She turned, hand on the doorknob, “No thanks Rem, I’m just going to the local!” And with a wink and a flick of her hair she was gone.

All three men looked at each other, there was a beat and then at once they jumped into action.

“Shower, shave, dress!” instructed Remus

“Ten minutes!” Called James.

Thinking of Y/N naked in his shower again; “…..better make it 20!” Said Sirius.

Sirius rushed into his bathroom, stripping off, and jumping in the shower. He shuddered, as the warm water hit his body. Grabbing whatever was in sight, Sirius washed himself. Soap suds running down his hard chest and lean legs. The water massaging his head felt wonderful and he started thinking of Y/N, becoming turned on. Nope! No time for that.

He shook water out of his hair and reached for a towel. As his hand landed on the hook, he froze - hanging innocently where his towel usually was, were the pair of lacy red underwear Y/N had been wearing earlier. Sirius nearly stumbled out of the shower. Y/N is not wearing any knickers!

Oh Godric fuck! Picking up the lace, knowing it had been on her body minutes before, next to her most intimate part Sirius couldn’t help himself, he held it up to his face and inhaled deeply. Her scent, lingering lightly on the fabric smelt musky and arousing. His erection was hurting at this point and not likely to go away anytime soon. Sirius grasped himself and stroked, feeling delicious sensations throughout his body. Free hand still wrapped in Y/N’s underwear he leant on the side of the shower wall and closed his eyes. Picking up his pace as he thought of Y/N, her body, wet and dripping in his shower moments ago. He wondered what it would be like to run his hands under that tight dress and flick her nipples. He groaned out loud at the thought of dropping to his knees in front of her to tug her dress up and lick her clit.

Hand pumping faster and faster, more thoughts of Y/N, her body pressed against his, the feel of her, the touch of her, what it would be like to be inside her. As his mind vividly created an image of her lying before him telling him she wanted him seconds before he entered her, he gave one final moan and came.

—–

“You took your time!” James was almost chomping at the bit waiting.

“Couldn’t find my hair gel.” Said Sirius with a slight grin.

“Ok, keys, wallet, let’s go!” Remus called firmly, pushing both men out the door and closing it behind him.

—

Over at The Drunken Doxy, the girls were sitting on stools around the corner of the bar sipping a wine each.

“Do you think they’ll figure it out?” Said Y/N?

“Who knows?” Replied Lily “Either way we will have a good night.”

“Yes we will!” Exclaimed Marlene pointing at the main door.

There they were. Standing at the entrance way looking handsome and well dressed, Sirius, Remus, and James glanced around the room searching. Sirius spotted the girls first and he locked eyes with Y/N. Suddenly, she felt nervous as he began to walk over. He looked nowhere else but at her giving her an almost predatory stare as he moved forward.

Gosh he looks good. Thought Y/N as he reached her and smiled, “Hi” She said almost shyly.

He paused, then gave her a cheeky smirk. ”You, my lady, are one hell of a good prankster! I’m so sorry I’m late, would you like a drink?”

Marlene was right, it was a very good night. Y/N spent the majority of it talking with Sirius. He was strangely flirty, touching her often. He had never done that before.

Sirius was beside himself. He felt invincible, Y/N gave him all her attention for once, not dipping out when other women approached him, acting convincingly like he was hers. Before tonight, he never thought she would be interested but he still wasn’t sure, perhaps she just played her part for the girls’ revenge?

Soon, too soon it was midnight. Lily and James had gone back to her flat while Marlene and Remus had both ventured further into town to party some more.

Before she had left, Lily asked Y/N to pick up their things from the boys flat - not trusting the men to leave their clothes alone and prank free.

Though Y/N rolled her eyes at Lily when she asked, she was secretly glad to have a reason to go home with Sirius. Even if it was just for five minutes.

Sirius draped her shoulders in his jacket as they walked home. He was quiet, letting Y/N steer the conversation not knowing he was wrestling an internal battle. Did he lay his feelings on the line for her? Risk causing awkwardness in the friendship? Was he even good enough for Y/N? A large part of him believed, no.

“Would you like a cup of coffee, Y/N?” Sirius stood in his kitchen, hands in his pockets watching her gather the girls’ things from around his flat. It was such a clichéd line, Y/N couldn’t help but laugh through her smile. To his credit he chuckled too, shaking his head as he bit his lip still looking at her. The words were bubbling up his throat, pounding from his chest to his lips to be let out, yet he stood silent, watching her realising she must know how he feels but yet still reticent to say anything.

Y/N couldn’t help but sneak glances at him. Merlin, he is handsome. Being with him tonight had only reinforced her feelings for him. Perhaps this was more than a crush. It had gone on for so long. Y/N was largely a happy, laid back person who didn’t want to push her luck so she had settled for being his friend. However, tonight she was forced to think about being with him and what that would be like, for more than one night.

She had finally come to the conclusion that Sirius embodied everything she wanted in a partner, strong, intelligent, good, loyal, fun, and a little naughty. She had just never pursued it any further as it seemed from the outside that he only did flings. Furthermore, Y/N had always been certain that Sirius went after what he wanted, if he was interested he would have done something about it.

Moving to help her gather her friends’ belongings, Sirius quietly uttered; “I had a great time tonight Y/N. I would apologise for the prank but I enjoyed the pay back a lot.” He gave a devilish grin as Y/N felt tingly all of a sudden.

His smile dropped slightly as he added, “I’m sorry you got stuck with me for the evening though, I know there are better people you could have spent your time with.”

Though he tried to laugh as he said it, Y/N frowned. “Is that how you really feel Sirius?” He didn’t answer, he didn’t need to. Y/N had seen this side of him at Hogwarts, his worry that he was unloveable as proven by his parents but never did she imagine it had spilled into his friendships.

“Don’t…don’t say that Sirius. You are actually one of my favourite people.”

“I am?”

“Yes, of course!” Y/N looked at him confused. “Pranks aside, you’re pretty great, you should tell yourself that more often.”

Sirius said nothing but continued to stare at Y/N in amazement. Now was the time to tell her, he could feel the words forming in his mouth, and just as he opened it, Y/N broke the silence, “Um, I’ll just…” Pointing to his room, she gestured a query of entry.

“Yeah, ah yeah sure, your clothes.” He followed her into his room.

Sirius’ brain was working fast. Did she mean that? Favourite person! Come on, just tell her!

Y/N was quietly putting two and two together as she entered his bathroom. Maybe there was something there but he felt like he couldn’t chase it. Had they both been operating on a series of miscommunications and assumptions? He never had a partner, he only had flings, she wasn’t one of them but had he tried and she didn’t notice? He only went home with people after she had left for the night or moved to talk to her other friends and he had ditched potential dates when she came round. All this time Y/N thought she was doing well not to overstay her welcome in his presence but was she actually pushing him away? No! That’s too easy.

“Is he really bothered by me?” Y//N mumbled under her breath. She didn’t want the night to end unless kissing him was scheduled for the end of the night then she wanted the end to come right now.

Feeling more alive and scared in a long time, Y/N continued to collect her belongings, she had embarrassingly flung all around Sirius’ bathroom. Could I kiss him? Should I? No! Yes?

As she was gathering up her jeans from his laundry hamper, fighting her own internal battle, she noticed that her red lacy thong was not hanging on the towel hook but folded neatly on the side of the sink, looking like they were placed with the utmost care. Y/N’s eyes lit up with knowing. He was affected by it! By me! Should I kiss him now? Yes! Definitely yes!

Dropping everything she had collected. Y/N strode out of the bathroom. Sirius, hovering by his bedroom door still, cocked an eyebrow at her, “Y/N did you not find…mmmfph” his question was lost as she stalked confidently towards him, threw her arms around his neck and kissed him with all the passion she could muster.

He only took a second to react. He wrapped his arms around her, squeezing her close as if he was afraid this sudden arrival of contact would just as quickly depart.

“Sirius I…” she whispered breathlessly only to be rendered speechless by him cupping the sides of her face, his eyes blown with lust and something else as he continued to kiss her deeply.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this, Y/N.” He said in between kisses. “Wanted you, liked you….” there was a pause as he breathed deep and uttered, “loved you.”

He looked at her again, her head in his hands, searching for the flicker of emotion that would tell him she might feel the same.

When he saw Y/N’s pupils dilate, and she began to give him a breathtaking smile he was overjoyed. He had battled with these feelings for years, growing stronger after every moment she was in his presence.

“Will you stay with me? Even just for tonight?” he asked, as his hands roamed her body and he feathered his lips across her jaw, down to her neck. His stubble tickling her skin and sending thrills up her legs.

He was good with his hands, the rumours were not wrong. Suddenly feeling exposed, irrational thoughts of being just another notch on his belt flared up and Y/N faltered.

“You’re the one, Y/N” Sirius breathed, as if sensing her deliberation of his intentions.

Relief washed over her. An affirmative “mmmm” was all she was able to get out. Being pressed up against the real thing was far out performing her expectations. He knew what he was doing.

“I want you Sirius, I have for a long long time.” she groaned wantonly unbuttoning his fly and palming his erection.

That did it for him. He spun her around, bent down still making contact with her lips to lift her up and press her against his closed door.

The momentary knock of her back against the hardwood caused him to flinch and a concerned look took over his features. Had he hurt her in his haste?

No, he realised, he had awoken a desperate rough streak and she ripped his shirt open, clawing at him to get closer.

Legs wrapped around his waist, both rushing, not getting their want satiated fast enough, he was frantically pushing her dress up, as she pulled his hair and squeezed him closer. Sirius had monetarily forgotten Y/N wasn’t wearing any underwear which was surprising as that thought had tormented him all night.

The brush of his fingers against her folds elicited a deep moan from within him.

“Oh God, Y/N.”

She squirmed at his touch, she was far too wet for this early on in the foreplay, knowing there was more to come but wanting him to fill her up immediately.

Sirius was exploding inside. The love and lust he held for Y/N for so long had finally found an outlet and it was building to an exquisite crescendo. Her wetness on his fingers, just about bought him to his knees. How could such a woman want to be with him? He momentarily started to feel insecure again then remembering her words from earlier, his heart squeezed.

Just because people found him good looking didn’t mean he believed them to be pure of intentions. Most women just wanted him for his outer looks and when he tried to dip his toe in connection and get deeper, it didn’t go too well. It wasn’t their fault - he gave off the air of a no strings attached lover but on the few times when he searched for more that threw them and caused a multitude of awkwardness.

Y/N however knew him well, too well if you asked him. She knew all his faults and had witnessed his worst behaviour yet she still wanted to spend time with him. Just the night with him? He hoped it was more than that however there was no way he would stop giving her what she wanted as long as she asked for it even if it was for one night. He couldn’t believe the way she was turning him on. He could feel drops of pre-cum damping his underwear and he hadn’t even let himself touch her like that yet.

He was so caught in the taste of her lips and what she was doing to him with her tongue, that he hadn’t realised she had reached down, freed his erection from his pants and pressed herself against him.

“Oh god.” This woman!

Y/N kissed him feverishly wrapping her arms tightly around his broad shoulders and slightly squeezing herself up and down. The friction caused by this action had him tilt his head back, eyes rolling into the top of his skull. Y/N took this opportunity to bite his neck, tasting his skin and smelling his cologne - her favourite scent to date. “Take me Sirius.” She purred.

He needed no more encouragement. One arm still holding her legs around him, back pushed against the wall he moved his cock so it was positioned against her entrance. One more look in her eyes to make sure. She bit her lip smiling at him titling her hips so the tip of his cock pushed through her entrance, and he moved. Slowly savouring every millimetre enveloped by her walls. Sirius’ mouth was open and his eyes were closed shut. He groaned, resting his forehead against hers. “Y/N..” was all he could whisper.

God he felt divine. His girth and length touched all of her.

Contrary to the frenzied rushing and grasping at each other in the beginning, Sirius’ thrusts were long and slow. He moved flawlessly, filling her up and snapping his hips with a flick when he was fully submerged, The kissing, the holding her up, the amazing feeling of being pressed against a wall and Sirius’ muscular chest as he thrust up into her was sending Y/N flying. His thrusts got faster, his breathing became heavier and he pressed into her harder moaning her name in her ear. Fuck he felt good. He seemed to know where she needed to be hit and his hips moved with incredible rhythm.  He was kissing her all over, biting her neck, continually groaning her name. “God you feel. So. Good. Y/N” he cried at one point, highlighting each snap of his pelvis with his words.

When Y/N squeezed her walls around him and started to roll up to meet him he began to lose it.

Wrapping one hand around her back he moved away from the wall and lay her on the edge of his bed. Kneeling on the floor he found a perfect angle to hit her in the most electric spot while teasing her clit at the same time. He held one leg up and let her other find traction, curled down against the side of the bed.

“Harder, please.” She groaned. He obliged and focused his thrusts more strongly, hitting a sweet spot inside her harder and harder.  Sweat was trickling down the part of his chest on show from his open shirt.

He was building her to a climax. Y/N felt her breathing quicken and a blooming wave rise inside her. Just as he whispered; “Y/N I’m not going to last much longer, you feel so good, can I do anything more to get you there?” She broke. Waves of pleasure washed over her, a tsunami of exquisite sparks flicked up and down her body. Her closed eyes, open mouth, and moaning of his name “yes Sirius, YES!” She arched up, while one hand fisted the covers and the other squeezed his hand. It was too intense for him. He came, and he came and just when he thought it was over another climax in him was building. “What that the?” he exhaled confused, “Oh my god” she moved her hips up to him and back and he climaxed again. He had heard of this happening but dismissed it as an urban legend.

Sparks popping in front of his face, Sirius felt time stop. Utterly spent, sweating, and catching his breath he let go of her leg, gently placed it down and leaned over her, still joined at the base. Arms either side of Y/N’s head he shook himself.

Seeing him shake spots from his eyes, watching as his breathing calmed down with her, and feeling the love from this man swelled her heart. She hadn’t told him but she thought she loved him too.

He opened his eyes when she placed her hand gently on his cheek, smiling serenely up at him.

“Stay.” He asked, meaning more than just the night

“Ok.” She nodded, meaning more than just the night.

—–

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[dragonrajafanfiction]

Tokyo Love Story (Part 1) Ruri Kazama

Oh boy... I got a lot riding on this one. *sweats*

@rurifangirl by request.

Even after climbing up out of the elevator shaft, your long night wasn’t over. The police raid, the one that prompted Hydra to move all their files in the first place, was about to begin and every able-bodied operative was running around trying to clean up the signs of the battle in the mural hall and the signs of the deadpools’ reign of destruction, including the bodies left behind. 

Exhausted, hiding in an equipment room, you slept, propped up between Caesar and Chu Zihang. You couldn’t lay down. The act of lying down was too painful. Out of the three, you had suffered the greatest injury. You had fought the deadpool in the basement, only to climb from the bottom of the elevator shaft to find another battle. You’d reached the limit of your endurance, so Caesar and Chu Zihang offered their shoulders and kept watch. Your mind relaxes despite still being in the midst of the enemy and you quietly slip into oblivion, feeling safer than you had in a very long time.

But you were forced to lie down eventually. Caesar found an unwatched police car and carefully lifted you into the trunk, then they climbed in themselves and shut it. The police car left the Genji Heavy Industries building. The Hydra may be powerful, but at this time when their headquarters had come under such a devastating attack, they were not inclined to search police cars. That was how you finally escaped.

Every bump in the road sent lightning through your nerves. If it weren’t for your lost voice, you doubt you could have kept quiet. But just in case, you take your hair and bite it between your teeth.

“Your back is already partially healed.” Chu Zihang’s voice is audible, but you can’t see him because your eyes are firmly shut.

“I noticed that, but I wasn’t going to say anything about you in front of that humanoid dragon.” Caesar was saying. “You slept for three days and healed from a grievous gunshot wound that nearly took your life. He healed from a stab through the belly in an hour and now… even with your wounds cauterized, they’re closed up a little more every time I look at them.”

“MC, the Lenin, the strange port, the so-called Hydras and the Devil Clan… they’re all pieces painting a single picture.” Zihang stated. “The way he described the so-called Ghosts, it sounded a lot like you. You’re the same Hybrid Species, but you’re more likely to become deadpool. It was good that we weren’t captured by the Hydras. They would definitely have killed you. As a Ghost.”

Caesar hissed in fury. “The whole Hydra organization will burn before I let them touch you!”

To think that at one time you actually felt like you could fit in more with Hydra than Cassell. You had followed after Chisei in battle, admiring his strength against deadpool. But if Chisei had known anything about you, he would have slain you in that elevator. Realizing how much danger you were in made you sigh.

Your heart sinks. You had been hoping to talk to Chisei about what he might know about you and find out what more similarities you might have with him. But now, that date over sake would be an impossibility. Caesar was right. The world really is bullshit.

Your eyes flutter open again. “Caesar. I almost forgot to tell you something…”

“Save it. It’s too hard for you to speak right now, and I can barely hear you over the sound of the car. Take this time to recover.”

Sneaking out of the police lot wasn’t difficult. It was raining hard and that concealed your silhouettes.  The heavy droplets soaked your clothes and the blood that was caked on them. Chu Zihang is carrying you now, sprinting down the flooded streets of Tokyo. You leave behind a trail of deadpool blood that mixes with the rainwater in black inky streaks and runs into the gutters and down into the storm drains.

The sun was coming up. If you were caught out here, Kaguya might find out where you were hiding, Hydra would rush in to trap you, and you would die.

Caesar slammed open the door to the Takamagahara. It swung on its hinge and banged into the wall. The morning light swept through the city at that moment to illuminate their entrance. Caesar and Chu Zihang held the door, panting, wet shirts clinging to their bodies, drops of water falling from the tips of their hair.

"Yo, everyone is still awake? Good business in the store last night?" Caesar waved his hand in greeting. He looked from the light into the dark interior of the lobby and couldn't see very well, only that the dance floor was full of people. But you had buried your face in Chu Zihang’s chest to hide from cameras and had no trouble with light-blindness.

In a glance, you take in the scene. So much is going on. The women you had helped Caesar take pictures of in the VIP private suite of the Takamagahara are standing in a semicircle. Their arms are over their ample chests or their hands are on their hips. They were all glaring, and the target of their ire was Whale.

Whale, this man that seemed like such a powerful tycoon when you met him, that was bold enough to keep harboring you despite being illegal immigrants, had been reduced to a groveling servant before them, kneeling on the floor, surrounded by scattered paper money. The bills were quite large, but no one moved to touch them.

Fujiwara, the former Sumo star and the man you described as the biggest Seal on the Shore of Baikal, was standing between them and Whale,  but his appearance was not that of someone who was going to try to defend Whale. It was the appearance of the shield bearer who happily takes the sword strike for his King and gives him the chance to escape!

Even though the Takamagahara should be closing, all the performers are crowded into the space, motionless in a bow, eyes downcast. You recognize your official suitors in the MC Romance competition among them.

Armani frowns deeply at you. Now that he was in the light of day, you can see that he’s the classic cold and stern type of handsome male character, someone with high standards of food, drink and clothing. Even now he was wearing a slick suit that was hardly wrinkled from the night’s activity. But despite this current figure, he had been wearing something far more revealing to meet you and you saw his belly button ring.

Chance snorts and tries not to laugh, covering his mouth with one hand before schooling his face into a sorrowful look. He was dressed the same with his chain and his sleeveless open puffy coat. You notice his henna tattoos go all the way up his arm in a twisting serpentine pattern. 

Diamond, the sexy cowboy, just looks at you in astonishment. He was the one who had been the most forward and confident in his win. Now he realized that after you had refused to give him a star-heart ticket, you went out with other boys! This had never happened to him in his entire life!

 But it was Calypso, the one who had handed you the closed rose bud, who spoke, pointing at Chu Zihang and Caesar. “What are you doing with her? You’re not competing!”

Everyone turns to look at you. Caesar’s eyes finally adjusted to the low light of the lobby and you see his face go taut and his eyes widened. “Shit!” He squeaked!

The humpback whale looked horrified and said, "You can't come back and speak that way to the guests!”

Chu Zihang touched Caesar's back with his elbow as he scooted over to hide behind him.

Caesar immediately understood and walked up to the women with an elegant salute, "How did you sleep last night? You look much better!"

"The guests drank too much and fell asleep. We went out for a bite to eat." Chu Zihang stammered. His Japanese was horrible. After all, he could make money with just his face and his sullen attitude so there was little need to work on pronunciation when all he had to do was mumble.

Whale is staring with eyes as big as dinner plates at Chu Zihang who was still carrying the travel bag with his sword inside. The bag was soaking wet and the blood mixed with water pooled on the floor where you stood. It looked like he’d hidden a severed head in there! Chu Zihang’s eyes shifted to his bag and then looked back up. “The Main Character was injured in the Earthquake so we had to take her and others to the hospital.”

It was a stupid story. It would have been better to keep his silence! Who knew Chu Zihang could stammer out a dumb line like that? It was about Lu Mingfei level of dumb. But Chu Zihang owned it, glaring hard with the cold stare of a killer. If he couldn’t make them believe his lie, he could at least stop them from asking any questions.

 Whale’s lips trembled. "I don't believe it! Can’t you make up a more logical lie about finding a dead cat or dog hit by a car in the street. So you brought it back to bury it because you like small animals?”

    "Ah! Right, Ukyou! Are you okay?" A large woman stepped around the sumo wrestler. If Fujiwara was the King of the Seals, this had to be the Queen. Her dress strained at the seams to contain her and she was like a giant egg testing the weight limits of her tiny heels. Her lips were smeared with gaudy red lipstick and she fluttered her gold powdered eyes at Chu Zihang.

But Chu Zihang’s reaction was telling. The way he tensed up, held you tighter and his eyes got wide, shocked you.

 "Who is the roadside nobody you rescued? Maybe he's a yakuza? Maybe it's some other bad guy or something that could….”

You turn and look at the woman, still carried in Chu Zihang’s arms. The woman’s face went pale and then paler, about as pale as the faces of the deadpool. Her mouth dropped open like a deadpool too only she didn’t have the rows of teeth to display. Her whole body started to shake and her hands went over her mouth.

Then her hands balled into fists, her eyes narrowed and her head dropped as if she were going to charge you. She let out a scream that sent chills up your spine. It wasn’t any words, just a primordial screech. Her face flushed red to her hairline. When she finally found the words, she bellowed, “Who the fuck is that?!”

She lumbered forward, eyes blazing with rage. “Get your hands off my Ukyou! You Bitch! You Bitch!” She swung her purse and missed you by inches, but her aim was good. She missed you because Chu Zihang had turned his body to shield you and the purse cracked hard against his jaw. Unbeknownst to both of you, she had filled her purse with bottles of champagne. Her plan was to take these bottles as a ‘fine’ for the insult of what happened to her last night. But at the sight of you, they became a weapon.

The sound of those bottles smashing against Chu Zihang’s head was audible to all and if there was any doubt as to the sheer force of her anger, her Prada bag turned dark and started to drip and the hall filled with the smell of champagne.

You look at him in disbelief. 

Chu Zihang didn’t move, but his eyes were wild. A small red bead of blood formed at the corner of his mouth and that turned into a thin red line down his chin.  The pressure of his fingertips against your skin told you that this blow really hurt.

She hurt him. That thought rings like a bell that sounds deep in your stomach and turns it.

The woman looks shocked for a moment. She didn't mean to strike him. He was hit because he protected you. "Why are you protecting her? I'm your client! Asshole! Do you know who I am? How dare you! How dare you take what I’ve paid good money for and give it to this hussy! You’re nothing but trash! No different from a dog! We spend good money so you can please us! And when I buy something it’s mine! Do you understand? Do you speak English? MINE!" Her face is inches from his. She reaches out with one hand to try to yank you out of his grip.

The woman suddenly stopped as though frozen in time. Her voice was cut off and she started to tremble. People couldn't see around her, they only saw your stare. It was like the empty and frozen stare of a shark, but you were smiling, a sort of strange disbelieving smile. You tilt your head in a curious gesture.

They couldn’t see that bronze dagger you’d slipped under the folds of her neck. If this woman so much as swallowed, the ripple of her throat would be enough to cut her. 

But the combination of empty eyes and surprised grin was far more frightening. It was the look of someone who snapped. The bronze claw in your hand was enough to pierce the flesh of Rank-A deadpool. With only a little pressure you could sever her head!

You were hungry, exhausted and in pain. But even if you had been perfectly fine, you weren't going to sit by and let this woman abuse him. He had fought all night with you, nearly died for you and then carried you here. This precious person who had rushed into the fire, who had patted your shoulder to comfort you. She treated him like an object, like a slave right in front of you.

Despite the ice of grief breaking around your frigid heart, giving you a glimpse of the possibility of happiness, you were still trained to kill and you’d killed for less… much less… than what she’d just done.

Caesar slowly turned his back, "I hate to see two women fight ...... so I can only turn around."

“My career is finished…” Whale softly moaned.

"Excuse me, is this Takamagahara? Ruri Kazama has taken the liberty of coming to visit for the Romance Contest." Someone knocked gently on the door.

You, along with everyone else in the room, looked over at the door in surprise.

The door was open. A handsome man with a boyish face stood in the mild sunlight, wearing a white shirt and black suit, with fresh straight black hair in a ponytail, holding a bunch of budding tulips.

The man was a little embarrassed by everyone's stares. He bowed deeply and offered his business card with both hands. “Please forgive my tardiness.”

"Master Kazama ...... Ruri?" Someone said in a reverent voice.

Master? You turn and look at where the reverent voice was coming from, but the entire hall was silent and no one spoke again. Chance was standing in mute astonishment. Armani’s sharp black eyes were wide.

Your knife lowers from the fat woman’s neck and you squint at this newcomer, wondering why this man was held in such high regard. He was nothing like the muscle bound flirts who had been jostling for your favor before. His manner was more like a shy school boy. As far as his appearance was concerned, you could be forgiven for mistaking him for a svelte young woman.

Fujiwara sprinted over, took the pure white business card. He held it high above his head as he took it back and placed it in the hands of the Whale.

"It's really Master Kazama at the door." Whale straightened his bow tie and stepped out to welcome him.  "Today is a glorious day for Takamagahara." The Whale bowed deeply.

 "I've heard a lot about you, too, Senior Whale. Yoroshiku Hajimemashite." Ruri Kazama returned the bow.

You reach up and gently wipe the blood from Chu Zihang’s face. “You okay?” Your voice is still gone, but he’s close enough to hear. When he nods, you ask, “Who is that?”

“There is a ranking in the Male Escort Association, and Ruri Kazama is the number one on this ranking for six consecutive years.”

“So what you’re saying is…” You rasp. “He’s like… Time Magazine Hottest guy?”

Chu Zihang shakes his head. “This ranking is not based on beauty nor popularity, but on the principle of art. Those selected are considered Master Ikemen. Ruri Kazama is a legend. They say he exists only for love. If he continues to keep this legend maintained for ten years, then he has the hope to become the god of the male escort world and will have a shrine built for him to receive offerings.”

You snort, disguising it as a sneeze, covering your face with your hand. “I’m almost sorry I asked.”

But Chu Zihang doesn’t seem to share your humor. “The fact that he has joined this contest raises your status as well.”

When you look back, the wind blew the hem of his coat, and Ruri Kazama stood in the sunlight with a slight smile. Although he behaved like the one shy kid from high school, you can’t deny his beauty. It shines like water: light and natural, but at the same time, reflected the sun’s infinite luster.

Ruri Kazama bowed deeply to Caesar, "It's BasaraKing, isn't it? This is a man who is as spontaneous as a Gundam."

He bowed again to Chu Zihang, "This one, if I'm not wrong, is Ukyo Sensei, said to be the image of a swordsman, but acts like a gentleman."

Then he looks at you. At first glance, those eyes looked clear and soft. But the longer you looked, they looked like two deep pools, the water of which was transparent. When you looked into their depths, however, they were pitch black, bottomless, and frigid.

#Dragon Raja

[mrsluttystark]

Repeat After Me Part 2

Part 1 

You guys have no idea how much it meant to me that part 1 was so well received. Thank you from the bottom of my little starker heart! 

Tags: nff, age difference, former teacher/student, mention of daddy kink, mention of choking

Word count: 3.1k

Read below the cut

Peter wakes up five minutes before his alarm, like he always does.  He absolutely hates the shrill screech of it.  His bed creaks and groans as he sits up and swings his legs over the side.  Suddenly, the springs that had previously been holding him up collapse under him, making him yelp in surprise.  Peter made a mental note that maybe it was time for a new bed, he’d been holding on to the rickety twin mattress he had all his childhood since it was the only thing he had left from May’s.

He usually went into the lab on Saturdays, even though he was supposed to be off during the weekend.  It’s not like he has plans or anything, but he guesses he could shift his schedule around a little to go mattress shopping.

His arm darts out like clockwork and taps his screen to turn the alarm off before his phone could utter the first mind melting ring. Peter runs a hand through his hair to brush some stray curls out of his face and stretches before getting out of bed to do his morning routine.

It’s not until Peter sits down at his two-seater dining table with a bowl of captain crunch berries, two pieces of toast, and a cup of earl gray tea, does he finally check his phone.  

The spoon is barely out of his mouth when he sees the notifications.  Eyes wide, he chokes on the cereal trying to force its half chewed self down his throat.  He can taste the oat milk is his nose and it is not good. 

Mr. Stark accepted his friend request and messaged him?  Peter looked around his apartment, skeptical.  Was he dreaming? Was this one of those life-like dreams where he gets ready for the day then wakes up and has to do it all over again?  He looked down at his arm, should he pinch himself? No, Peter, that’s stupid.

He shook his head and looked at his phone again, opening the Messenger app.

Hey, Kid.

Shit, he was toast.  Collecting himself, Peter took a deep breath to prepare himself for a conversation with his former high school teacher (that he may or may not want to fuck him senseless and cuddle afterward). He racked his brain thinking about how to approach this.  Should he be bold? 

Hi, Daddy. Please cum down my throat? Yeah...that might be too bold.

Hello, Mr. Stark.  I humbly thank you for accepting my friend request.  Ugh, too weird.

He’s overthinking it, he knows. Peter types out and deletes maybe five more messages before he finally settles on:

09:10 am 

Hi, Mr. Stark.  It’s Peter.

09:11 am

Parker.

Peter threw his phone down on the table and put his head in his hands, bowl of cereal soggy and forgotten. He made a face at it and pushed the bowl away, pulling his toast closer.  He took bites of a slice distractedly and washed it down with some tea.  He’d regret not eating a proper breakfast later, but right now his appetite was replaced with a turning feeling that he couldn’t quite place.  His phone vibrates on the table, startling him from his thoughts.

From Tony Stark 09:22 am

Yeah, Peter.  I did read your name on your profile.

09:23 am

Right. Sorry.

From Tony Stark 09:23 am

Don’t worry about it, Kid. Just pokin’ fun.

09:24 am

(sweating emoji)

Thanks for accepting my friend request btw, Mr. Stark.

From Tony Stark 09:26 am

No big deal, thanks for the request, it’s been a while.

And Tony is fine, you’re not my student anymore, Pete.

09:26 am

Yeah, okay. Tony. I can do that

So you remember me?

From Tony Stark 09:27 am

I remember all my students

09:27 am

Really???

From Tony Stark 09:28 am

No, not really lol

But I do remember you, you were a lot skinnier back then.

09:30 am

(eye roll emoji) And you were a lot younger 

From Tony Stark 09:31 am

Ouch, that was uncalled for

09:32 am

You asked for it

So what have you been up to?

From Tony Stark 09:34 am

I’m a mechanical engineer now, quit teaching a few years ago. What about you?

09:35 am

That’s awesome! You were way too smart to be a teacher.

I’m a research chemist

From Tony Stark 09:38 am

Thanks, kid.

That’s about where I’d thought you’d end up, as smart as you are.

09:40 am

Flattery will get you everywhere, Mr. Stark

Tony*

Sorry.

From Tony Stark 09:40 am

Everywhere?

09:41 am

Everywhere.

From Tony Stark 09:50 am

Say, Pete. I don’t actually have a habit of checking this app and I’m about to head out of the house for the day.  I’d like to continue this conversation, so here’s my number if you wanna text me [hidden contact information].

No pressure of course.

From Tony Stark 09:53 am

Peter?

New Message

To: Tony

You know who I am.

From: Tony

Had me there for a second kid. 

I’m about to drive, I’ll text you in a bit.

Peter put his phone down for the first time in almost an hour, eyes straining to refocus after staring at his screen intensely for so long.  His heart was pounding in his chest and his cheeks were starting to ache from smiling.  Had that really happened? Peter brought a hand up to rub at his jaw, still in a daze.  He was finding it very hard to believe that this wasn’t some elaborate dream because there is absolutely no way that this could’ve happened in real life.  Talk about a glitch in the simulation.

He really got Tony Stark’s phone number, and he didn’t even have to ask for it!

Peter scoffed in disbelief, no fucking way! He opened the Facebook app again and went to Tony’s profile.  Turns out there wasn’t much else on it, he had a total of 3 profile pictures and less than 100 friends, none of which were other students and only a few midtown teachers.  So, he either was a very private person or he didn’t use Facebook at all.  And if it was the latter (or both for that matter), why did he accept Peter’s friend request in the first place?

Peter decided not to think about it right now.

He went to his profile pictures and glanced at the current one he already studied last night.  The previous one was just the Guns N’ Roses album cover for Appetite for Destruction.  Classic Rock fan, noted.  His first profile picture, though, was an absolute masterpiece.  Tony looked to be on a beach somewhere, his hair was wet and messy from the clear blue salt water.  Peter wanted to run his tongue over every inch of the olive toned skin exposed to the sun.  His smile was radiant, framed by neatly trimmed facial hair, with thick, dark eyebrows peeking over his sunglasses.  Swung low on his hips right below a toned stomach were hot rod red swim shorts that stopped in the middle of his thigh, showing off his tan legs dusted with dark hair.

Peter tried not to look, he really did, but he could not stop his eyes from landing on the older man’s crotch.  And he was not disappointed.  There, curving onto his thigh, was a long, thick unmistakable dick print.  Peter’s mouth watered at the sight as his own cock stirred with interest.

Fuck. He wondered how big he really was in person.  How far he could take it down his throat.  He wanted to know how it would feel to be stretched and filled by Tony’s cock.

Scooting his chair back abruptly, Peter shot up off of it.  His hard-on tenting almost painfully in his pajama pants and it was starting to create a wet spot.  Mattress shopping can wait, Peter needed to cum, like, yesterday.

He rushes to his room and yanks the drawer of his night stand open, revealing a wooden box.  Peter unlatches the box and grabs a bottle of lube and his veiny lifelike vibrating dildo with a suction cup right behind the silicone balls from his small collection.  This one was by far his favorite, it’s eight inches long and he loved feeling the veins and the girth of it filling him up. 

Peter lays a towel down on his bed and climbs to the middle, carefully avoiding the new dent in the mattress. He bunches up the pillows behind his back so he’s laying at an incline, then starts rubbing himself over his pajama pants while he uncaps the lube and squeezes some onto his fingertips. Clumsily, he pulls and shimmies his pants down his hips with his left hand, breath hitching when his heated erection makes contact with the cool air in his apartment.  It lands with a light smack against his abs and Peter tugs his shirt up and under his chin.  Kicking his pants off his bed, Peter spreads his legs.  He can feel his hole puckering in anticipation of being used.

His left hand begins lightly skimming his torso, feeling his abs contract under his finger tips.  Bringing them higher, he rubs across his chest, pinching his nipples softly.  Peter rubs the lube between his thumb and forefinger to warm it up, then starts rubbing the tight ring of muscle in circles, making his cock jump.

Once he’s coated, he sinks a finger in slowly to coax himself open.  His left hand continues caressing his body, skirting across the area right above his cock.  Peter lets out a plethora of whines and pants, eyes screwed shut at the feeling.  The image of Tony’s face urging him to take another finger.

He knows Tony’s fingers would be thicker, stretching him wider than Peter ever could with his own.  The younger man hoped his former teacher would be able to handle him the way he wanted.  Peter imagined large, strong hands encircling his throat while the other gripped hard on his hips while he took him.

Three of his fingers are buried deep in himself before he even touches his neglected, leaking cock.  His left hand comes to collect the precum pooling at the head and dribbling down his shaft, allowing his hand to glide along his hot skin. He strokes himself lazily as he pulls his fingers out and reaches for the dildo.  Uncapping the lube again he slicks up the silicone and brings it to his open, waiting hole. 

Pulling his left hand off of his cock, Peter grabs one of the pillows and stuffs it under the small of his back.

He imagines Tony looking down at him with dark, analytical eyes, watching Peters every movement.  The rise and fall of his chest, his heaving breaths.  The way Peter keens when he’s stretched like he longs for the sting of it.  Would he fuck into him slowly or would he seath himself in one smooth, quick stroke?

Peter chooses the latter.

He cries out as he pushes the dildo balls deep into his ass without pause.  The pain from the stretch mixes deliciously with pleasure.  Sweat beading on his forehead has Peter’s curls sticking wetly to his skin.  His entire body is covered in a thin sheen of it.

The young man turns onto his left side, dildo still deep inside him.  Peter reaches around his back with his right hand and grips the bottom of the suction cup.  He sighs, easing the dildo out slowly before pressing the button at the base of the shaft to turn on the vibration and ramming it into himself once more.

Tony would be taking him from behind, a long arm encircling Peter’s body, hand coming to grip him at the base of his neck, right above his collarbone so that he could pull the younger man down and onto his thick cock while he fucks up into him.  

Peter continued to fuck himself roughly with the dildo while he thought of Tony’s hard body doing it to him instead.  He’d whisper dirty things in Peter’s ear while he fucked him.  Tell him that he’s such a good little slut for his teacher.  Peter whined at the thought, he’d love it if Tony let him call him Mr. Stark in bed.

He starts stroking his cock faster, feeling his orgasm build in the pit of his stomach.  His right arm is starting to get tired from fucking the dildo into his ass for so long, he’s gotta cum soon.

Peter’s eyes fly open when he hears his phone vibrate through the thrumming in his ears.  It’s a text from Tony.

How’s my favorite student? Miss me?

That does it.  Peter’s entire body jolts as he cums all over his hand and the towel he laid on the bed, a high whine caught in his throat. 

He’s still trying to catch his breath a few minutes later, after he eases the dildo out and places it on the towel.  He wipes his hand off on it as well before he grabs his phone.  He definitely needs a shower now. Then he’ll go to the mall.

To: Tony

Don’t flatter yourself

To: Tony

Maybe a little

-

Tony can’t help but smile at his phone, he might have been a little too eager with the message, typing it up as soon as he put his car in park.  The easy banter going on between him and Peter was refreshing.  Tony couldn’t remember the last time he felt genuinely excited to talk to someone, let alone text.

As the conversation kept flowing while Tony picked up his dry cleaning, he could only deduce that it was because they were nearly equal on an intellectual level.  It may have helped that Peter was easy on the eyes as well.

They talked about their projects at work and the research behind it, what it was like at Columbia for Peter, and how MIT had been to Tony.  The older man made a mental note to ask where Peter worked at a later date, maybe he could recruit him.  He learned that Peter’s favorite colors were blue and red.  That he hated horror movies but watched them anyway just to spite himself.  He loved rom-coms and (surprise, surprise) sci-fi movies.  He couldn’t cook to save his life, Tony assured him he could give him lessons if he wanted, he could make a mean Chicken Piccata.

Tony couldn’t even bring himself to feel guilty about it at all.  The conversation was innocent and Tony was a flirt by nature, Pepper never had a problem with it.  If anything, this thing with Peter was just a budding friendship.  The universe knows Tony needed someone to talk to.

Around noon, Tony’s stomach started to grumble, not surprising considering the hearty breakfast of black coffee he had this morning.  Peter mentioned earlier that he’d been craving Gyros, and that didn’t sound half bad right about now.  He was a few blocks away from the mall anyway.

From: Peter

Here’s a contact picture, in case you needed one...

[see attachment]

The picture Peter sent was absolutely adorable.  His bangs fell over his forehead, slightly parted to the side so it wasn’t completely covered.  Tony felt utterly entranced by the younger man’s smile and the way his left eyebrow looked like he’d slept with his face buried in a pillow.  He was wearing a T-Shirt with a science pun on it, as if the kid couldn’t be any dorkier.  Tony loved it.

To: Peter

Is that a sly way of getting me to send you a selfie back?

Cute shirt by the way, where ya headed?

From: Peter

Maybe...did it work?

I’m going shopping for a new mattress, old one crapped out on me.

To: Peter

Here, since you asked so nicely

[see attachment]

From: Peter

Oof, you can just delete mine.  You just made me go from a solid 6 to like a 2

To: Peter

Hey, give yourself some credit, you’re definitely at least a 5

KIDDING, I’d rate you a solid 9, kid. Just because there’s always room for improvement

From Peter:

I would just like to know who gave you the right to be so sassy and RUDE

To: Peter

Definitely my narcissistic ego

No, but seriously Pete, you’re stunning.  Don’t listen to the old guy

From: Peter

Pls you’re not that old, Tony.

To: Peter

A man after my own heart.  Thanks, kid.

From: Peter

Anytime :-)

You’re more like my friend’s hot dad if anything

To: Peter

Little shit.

From Peter:

;-)

Tony shook his head fondly and stuffed his phone in his pocket as he entered the mall, looking around for something indicating what direction the food court was in.  He hadn’t been to this mall in a while, he admits since he’s been making more money it’s kept him from coming and eating the fast food they had here.  So he followed the signs until he got to the food court, and noticed there were still quite a few tables open for him to sit and eat at.  He made a point to stay as far away from the family with three screaming children as possible.

He scanned the choices until he found somewhere that had gyros and went to go stand in line.  The menu wasn’t too extensive, he could either get a gyro platter or a falafel platter, and he already knew what he was here for.  His eyes fell from the menu to the person in front of him.  Not to be a creep, he’s only human, but he had a fantastic ass.  A perfect little bubble butt.

The man was a little shorter than him, he had a trim waist that opened up to broad shoulders not bigger than Tony’s.  Incredible figure.  He’s probably a dancer or a marathon runner.  He also noticed this man had brown curls.  That made him snort softly to himself, he either had a type or Peter just invaded his mind in a short amount of time.  It could be either, honestly.

His eyes dropped to the phrase printed on the back of his shirt.

Never trust an atom, they make up everything

Ha.  Peter would love that shirt.

Wait.

Peter has that shirt.  It’s the one he was wearing in his selfie.

“Peter?”

The man in front of him whirled around to look at him with a puzzled expression.  Tony suddenly found himself unable to move or say another word.  He was instantly captivated by doe eyes and one of the prettiest faces he’d seen in a long time.

He watched his confusion turn into realization and then disbelief and dare he say: panic.

“Tony?”

@sweetqueen449, @slut-for-starker, @dim-ships-johnlock, @starkerhowlter, @sthefystarkersworld, @crazycocococonut, @bris-sins, @delicateavenuenacho, @ironspiderstarker, @katzenbaby1, @spider-iron-man, @rebel13lion39, @twokinkybeans, @frenchfrostpudding, @cherrygoldlove, @silkystarkk, @icandoakickflip, @irondaddio, @briesb1tch

creds to @problemchildnoonewanted for some of the messages in the beginning

#starker #sluttystark stuff #starker fic #starker au #ironspider #tony stark x peter parker #tony stark/peter parker #peter parker x tony stark #Peter Parker/Tony Stark