Chapter 1: So High [M]

Chapter 1: So High [M]

Summary: “A manwhore and a junkie… it’s a match made in heaven.”

Pairing: Park Jimin x Reader

Genre: High School au, angst

Word Count: 6k

Warnings: 18+, substance use disorder/drug addiction, PTSD, child abuse, additional warnings might be added as story progresses.

A/N: I swear I spent like a month researching to make sure everything is as accurate as possible, but if you’re more experienced in this topic and see some inaccuracies don’t hesitate to let me know. Also, if you are under 18: do. not. read. I am watching you younglings.

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Just one step at a time Y/N, you're almost there.

You groaned inwardly as you continued to drag your feet along the concrete sidewalk, every bone in your body weighing you down like a heavy truck. Your muscles screamed at you to turn around and burrow back into your bed and even your mind was having trouble focusing. Overall, nothing but pure willpower was pushing you through the empty park, but you had to keep moving if you wanted these feelings to stop. 

So you pushed on. 

Ironically, the atmosphere was a perfect reflection of your mood. Despite how early it was in the morning, there was no prospect of the usual sunlight. Instead, grey clouds and an oddly comfortable hum caused by rainy drizzle surrounded you as you continued. It only made your muscles more languid and you almost caught yourself falling asleep mid-step several times. 

Thankfully, after what felt like hours, your gaze caught onto a lone figure on the other side of the park, rocking against one of the swings quietly. Besides him, the area was largely deserted, probably because of how early it was in the morning. Soon it would be filled with students and parents rushing to their schools and jobs. 

You'd be one of them, but for now, you had more pressing matters to attend to. 

"Yoongi," you greeted idly once you walked up to him. 

Yoongi, who had been staring at the sand below him, looked up at you with a scowl. His black hair was pulled into a half bun while it looked like he had gotten his hair trimmed. Today, he was dressed in an expensive looking black rain jacket that stopped at his knees paired with black combat boots. His silver cross earring seemed unusually dull in the rainy weather. 

"It's Suga when we're doing business," he corrected, pushing himself off the swing while eyeing the security cameras wearily. They weren't working at the moment, due to some renovations or something like that, so you didn't really understand the paranoia. 

You tilted your head lazily at his statement, "it's always business with us."

"Exactly," he frowned, shaking his head in regret, "if it wasn't for- well, you know- you wouldn't have even figured out my actual name, which is already annoying. So no need to rub it in."

"Nope, I worked too hard to get that name just to never use it," you smirked, trying to keep your voice light, but on the inside you were itching to grab what you came for, "so... do you have it?"

Yoongi's hand disappeared into his jacket's pocket and returned with a small white bottle just barely the size of your thumb. Why was it so small?

"What the hell is that?"

Despite your words, it took everything in you not to snatch up the bottle like some savage, but your pleasantries only went so far. The second the bottle was in your hand you didn't bother waiting for him to leave before you opened it and downed three pills on the spot. 

He frowned in response, "I'm low on stock right now."

It was always so typical of him to have such short and concise responses, and although you hated it, it was pretty helpful for when you were going through withdrawals. It was easier for your foggy mind to understand short sentences rather than a bunch of details. But you were going to need the details in this case. Yoongi hadn't been low on stock in a long time, which means something must have happened.  

At your expression Yoongi sighed. 

"Look, I think someone tipped the police off about me so I'm laying low for a while. In fact, the only reason I'm even doing business with you right now is because you're my least problematic client, which I appreciate... and also because I know withdrawal can be a real pain."

You hummed in response, barely paying attention. The pills you just took weren't going to kick in for another 10-20 minutes, so most of what Yoongi was saying was flying through one ear and out the other. 

"Anyways," he sighed, likely noticing your current state, "I'll get the payment after I get the cops off my back."

He hesitated before his next words but ultimately mumbled, "take care of yourself."

You lazily watched as he made his way into a flashy red car and drove off before you realised you should probably get going as well. 

-

-

-

By the time you reached your school, you felt your focus sharpen as the Adderall you had taken earlier finally started kicking in. The black jacket you had been wearing, to hide your uniform from Yoongi of course, was hanging against your arm as you made your way into the school towards your classroom. 

Since you were a little early, the class wasn't entirely full just yet. Students were still milling around, laughing and chatting about things you couldn't care less about. It wasn't until you sat down in your seat when you noticed that your best, and only, friend was already in the classroom. 

Kim Namjoon, with his dark brown hair and dimpled cheeks, gave you a stern look as he noticed your presence. 

"You didn't answer my call yesterday," he stated as-a-matter-of-factly. 

That made you snort, "when do I ever answer your calls for school related stuff?"

"Because you're too busy crashing from all the drugs you take throughout the day?"

It was his tone more than his words that made you turn towards him with a frown. Namjoon has always bothered you about your... recreational activities, that's no surprise. But there was something about the rare harshness in his voice this time that had you taken aback.  

"I'm fine Namjoon, chill out."

But Namjoon seemed unusually persistent today and only his next words gave some insight as to why, "you know there was a death in my apartment yesterday? A guy overdosed on a ton of cocaine and died, Y/N, because he was doing the exact same thing you do."

You shifted uncomfortably to mask your uneasiness.

"I don't do coke," you joked, but Namjoon's face didn't waver. 

"So? Whether it’s Adderall or meth, the result is still the same,” he pressed further, "you know he was completely alone when it happened? And when his family came to the funeral, they barely even cared. Most of them said they hadn't seen him in years."

You scoffed, "Well, I definitely won't have that problem."

His expression softened, "there are people that still care about you, Y/N, but if you continue on the path you're on right now, I can't guarantee that. I don't want you to be like him. I don't want you to end up alone with nothing but a drug addiction."

You could hear the fear in his voice at that last sentence. 

"I don't have an addiction, Namjoon, relax," you said as you heard the bell ring. All around you, students rushed to their seats in preparation for the class, "I could stop if I wanted to, you're just being paranoid."

He seemed disappointed at your response, even a little angry.

"You're high right now aren't you?" He whispered. 

“When am I not?"

"That's not funny, Y/N."

"It's a little funny."

Namjoon's hand grabbed your arm in frustration as his voice lowered, "this isn't a joke, Y/N. If you're not going to take this seriously then I'll have to do things you're not going to like."

You scoffed at the threat, "like what? Tell everyone about it? How would you even convince them? I'm a straight A student that's respectful to all the teachers. Who would even believe you?"

"A simple drug test can change all that," he snapped back. 

Your eyebrow raised, "so you'd report me to the police?"

Namjoon's frustrated face morphed into shame as he looked away quickly. The two of you had been friends ever since you and your father moved here when you were 7 years old. He was practically your brother at this point. When he found out about your using around a year ago, he had been furious, but every time he tried, he just couldn't report you. Maybe it was because he didn't want you to have a criminal record, or maybe it was because he didn't want to hurt you, either way he's been ashamed about the lack of action ever since. 

Namjoon watched the teacher walk into the class with a mixture of guilt and anguish. 

"I should... If I really cared about you I would've reported you the first time I found out. Maybe it wouldn't have become so bad if I did..."

You quietly watched as the students started getting out their textbooks and homework. Namjoon's words, despite not being anything new, should've moved you. You should've felt a need to change, or to do better. 

But you didn't feel any of that. Even hearing about that man, that might even be foreshadowing to your future, didn't instill any fear into your heart. In fact, the prospect of that being your future didn't shake you. 

Honestly, you felt nothing at all. 

-

-

-

The sound of the bell ending first period had never felt more relieving as you finally felt Namjoon’s gaze, which had been drilling into the side of your head the entire time, shift. Thankfully, he wasn’t in your second period class so you’d finally get a break from his constant worry. 

That allowed you to make your way to your second classroom quietly before settling down in your usual seat that was near the back of the class. You were even going to quietly rest your head on your desk for a moment, but the sound of three girls shuffling towards you made you realise that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon. 

It was always comical how fast she approached you the second Namjoon was out of the picture.

"Y/N!" 

You groaned, preparing yourself for what you knew was going to be one of the worst five minutes of your life.

Kim Jiwoo smirked as she peered down at you, two girls, whose names you didn't even know, at her side. Today she had tied her long brown hair into a half ponytail, letting her side bangs frame her face. Most would call her pretty, but you knew better than to flatter a snake. 

"Did you sleep in a barn last night?" She laughed, tugging at a strand of your hair, "it looks like a rat’s nest."

The two at her side laughed as she gasped.

"Wait, who am I kidding," she continued, " your father couldn't afford a barn. Where then? The side of a highway?"

Another round of her friends' laughs filled the room annoyingly. 

"Don't you have anywhere else to be insecure, Jiwoo?" You grumbled tiredly. 

She simply scoffed, "what do I have to be insecure about? Your face is all the self-love I need. Everyday I wake up and am thankful my parents didn't give birth to one like yours."

That made you smile, "speaking of parents, how is your parents' divorce going? I heard your dad was found sleeping with the maid after church, again. Personally I think you take after him the most."

The two girls' eyes widened in surprise as they side-eyed a seething Jiwoo. At this point, the whole class had gone quiet, listening intently to the two of you. 

For a moment, a very dumb moment, you thought she'd leave it at that and make an embarrassing exit. 

But you were never a very lucky one, were you?

"My parents' divorce is going great, thanks for asking," she said suddenly, a snake-like grin on her face, "I'm just glad both of them are still alive."

You tensed as you felt her close the space between the two of you, "how are your parents, Y/N?"

As unaffected as you were trying to appear, it took a lot of self-control not to throw a chair at her face. 

But Jiwoo wasn't done just yet. 

"Oh my!" She gasped, hands flying to her lips, "I completely forgot! You don't have both of your parents, do you?"

You could feel her breath as she chuckled, but the smile dropped from her face as she came closer, "What's wrong, Y/N? Mother couldn't survive a little chemo?"

Distantly you heard some students gasp, while others laughed. It didn't matter, because none of them could stop you when you brought up your fist and slammed it into her face. 

Anyone that says violence will never be fulfilling is a liar. Watching Jiwoo crumple to the ground was all the therapy you needed. 

Unfortunately, that only made her laugh more. 

"You know, if you kill yourself, maybe you can meet mommy in hell," she laughed, wiping the small trickle of blood from her mouth. 

You just scoffed, hiding the second wave of anger by sitting back in your seat, "and see you there too? No thanks."

As Jiwoo stood, the door of the classroom opened, causing everyone's head to snap towards it. The girls swooned as Mr. Kim walked in with light steps. His gaze first fell on Jiwoo, who was standing over you, and then your seated form.  

"Is there a problem here?"

No one answered, either too afraid for reprimand or too immersed in checking him out. Mr. Kim Seokjin was the youngest teacher in the school, not to mention the most attractive according to the female students. Forget the girls, you were pretty sure you've even caught some of the guys talking about how hot he is. 

When no one answered he raised an eyebrow. It was clear he knew something had happened here, something that shouldn't have happened. But after a moment, he must have decided to let it go because he turned around and started writing on the board. 

"Please go back to your seats everyone and turn to page 237."

You watched as everyone scrambled to their desks, except for Jiwoo of course, who gave you a condescending smile first. That was the one thing you could respect about her, she knew how to take a punch without being a whiny baby about it. The two of you had been at each other's throats for as long as you could remember. The rivalry between you was always so excessively vicious because you were cousins, meaning you knew a lot more about each other's familial secrets compared to the other students. In fact, now that you think about it, you probably exposed her parents' divorce to the class. But you'll take it as payback for yesterday, when she tripped you in the hallways and almost broke your head against one of the lockers. 

Mr. Kim continued to speak about the lesson, which you were completely focused on thanks to the pills you had taken this morning. 

Well, that was until you heard distracting whispers behind you. 

"Who's that?" A male voice whispered, seemingly to someone beside him. 

Another voice answered in the same manner, "oh yeah, you just transferred from class A, right? You don't know about the drama here. Those two have been at each other's throats since forever."

The first voice chuckled, "I don't care about that. Who is she?"

"Um," the second voice paused, as if confused, "you mean her? That's Kim Y/N... why? What's up?"

"She's got a hot back," the first voice said. 

You scowled as you turned around to face the voices, "this 'hot back' can hear you, you know."

You were met with two guys sitting next to each other. The first had permed dirty blonde hair, a boxy grin and intimidating eyes. You already knew him to be Taehyung. Although you'd never really held a full conversation with him, you knew he'd been in your class for a while. 

But the one sitting next to him wasn't as familiar, though you knew you've seen him in the halls before. His hair was a bright orange that oddly suited him, while his cheeks were soft yet structured. 

He was attractive, there was no denying it. But there was also no denying that he was the one commenting on your 'hot back' too, which you did not appreciate.

"Oh I know," he replied coolly, "is admiration suddenly a crime?"

"Go admire someone else's back, thanks," you said, turning back to the lesson being taught. 

But the whispers only continued. 

"Such a pretty face too," the orange haired guy said, and you could almost see him smirking. 

You saw exactly that when you turned around once again, but this time towards Taehyung, "could you put your friend on a leash?"

Taehyung, who actually seemed confused, just shrugged. 

"I'm Park Jimin," the orange haired guy announced, "what's your name, kitten?"

It took everything in you not to cringe at the nickname and instead turn back towards the front of the class, "not interested."

As you watched Mr. Kim turn towards the board to write something down, the sound of a pencil falling to the ground followed. You were sure Jimin threw one at you to get your attention, like some middle schooler might you add, but you were determined to ignore him, keeping your focus on the board. You could hear the sound of a chair scraping against the floor, a slight chuckle and even light footsteps. 

But a moment later you felt your back start to warm up. At first you thought maybe the classroom's heating had turned up, but then you swivelled around to come face to face with Park Jimin. His chest was so close to your back, all he had to do was move just an inch forward and he'd be pressed against it. 

With Mr. Kim still writing something on the board, Jimin went completely unnoticed aside from one or two curious students. 

But that didn't deter him at all. 

"There's going to be a party tonight at Taehyung's place," Jimin whispered, his lips close to your ear, "you should come. I'm sure you'll have a good time."

Just as his head lifted away from yours, Mr. Kim turned around. 

"Jimin, what are you doing out of your seat?" He asked, crossing his arms. 

Jimin raised a pencil in response, and with a start, you realised it was your pencil that had been sitting on your desk a few seconds earlier, "sorry, I just dropped my pencil."

Mr. Kim nodded and went back to teaching the lesson while you heard Jimin take his seat once again, still feeling the ghost of his lips near your ear. 

-

-

-

For the record, it wasn't Park Jimin that had you driving to Taehyung's house at 10 PM on a Friday night. You had known about the party before he had 'invited' you and had already been planning to go. Of course, most students were attending for some partying.

And although partying sounded good, you had other intentions in mind. 

Your car rolled to a stop a few blocks away from Taehyung's house before you got out and started walking along the dark sidewalk. You could already hear the music and sounds of chatter from your current position, but you doubt anyone in the neighbourhood would complain about it. Taehyung's parents were the definition of rich, and messing with people like that was never a very smart option. The best they could do was pop in some ear plugs and wait the party out. 

"Y/N?!" A familiar voice behind you called out. 

Speaking of ear plugs...

You tried to fasten your pace, but Jiwoo was already in step beside you. There seemed to be no sign of the girls from earlier this time. 

"Where are your goons?"

Her reply was quick. 

"Where's your sobriety?"

You rolled your eyes, continuing to walk in silence. To your distaste, she didn't leave after that. 

"Thanks a lot for advertising the divorce. You know how hard it was to keep something like that on the down low?" She scoffed, actually looking quite annoyed. 

You raised an eyebrow, "you're really going to act like that after the chemo comment?"

"You started it. Don't act like some victim now."

It was your turn to scoff now, "you started it like 5 years ago."

"It was 7 years actually."

"Aww, do you have a calendar you use to mark our fights too? I'm straight, before you get any ideas."

"Oh screw off, Y/N."

Thankfully, there was a beat of silence after that. You cursed yourself for parking so far away from the house, but it was usually useful for when the police were called and they started impounding cars. At this point, you'd rather take the police than Jiwoo's presence. 

After a moment Jiwoo spoke up again, "I saw you with Jimin in second period."

She grinned. 

"A manwhore and a junkie... it's a match made in heaven."

You almost celebrated when Taehyung's house finally came into view. Without even bothering to look in Jiwoo's direction, you scurried into the house, but not before hearing her cackle like some kind of witch. 

You genuinely feel bad for whoever decides to curse their life by marrying her. Maybe she'll do everyone a favour and stay single forever, though you doubt she'd be that gracious. 

Even though it was relatively early for the party, the living room was packed with people. Students you recognized from school were chatting and laughing together while others played games and took shots. You were pretty sure you even caught one or two college kids here and there too. 

As you scanned the room, your eyes were naturally drawn to a head of bright orange hair sitting on one of the couches lazily as a girl sat on his lap with a smile. Jimin looked good, with a simple white t-shirt and ripped jeans. A silver earring, similar to Yoongi's, hung from one of his ears. 

For a second, you thought his eyes caught yours, but you turned away and started walking towards the kitchen before you could confirm. It didn't matter anyway, you weren't here for him. 

The sight of alcohol had you smiling. 

You were here for this.  

You grabbed a cup and filled it with beer from one of the tanks sitting on the counter. There were a few empty bottles of vodka and even wine sprawled around, implying that if you looked hard enough you might be able to snag a bottle. But you weren't very keen on getting too hammered tonight. 

While deep in thought, you didn't notice Jimin slip in front of you until he started talking. 

"Having fun?" He asked, a red plastic cup filled with a clear substance already in his hand. His hair was dishevelled and messy, like someone had run their hands through it many times, and a silver necklace shaped like an upside down spade hung from his neck. 

The necklace forced you to look down at his loose sleeveless white shirt, which did a poor job at hiding his toned figure. The muscles in his arm were flexed as they held the cup, making it hard to focus on the one in your own hand. You turned towards the kitchen's counter, trying to shift your mind to something else. 

But Jimin seemed to notice that, making him smirk.

"Like what you see?" He asked innocently as he slowly made his way towards you. When he finally came to a stop, he was so close you could feel the heat of his chest on your arm while his hand rested on the countertop right in front of you, "you don't have to look away, kitten. I don't mind giving it to you if you want it."

Your sharp gaze met his eyes once again, which were also a lot closer than you had initially thought. With his chest near your arm, his hot breath against your ear and his ruffled hair, you didn't blame yourself when you felt a hesitant shiver run down your spine. 

Park Jimin was a jerk, but god was he a hot jerk.

But was this something you wanted? Although you weren't exactly opposed to the idea, you didn't exactly want it either. It had been a long time since you last had sex, and the thought of doing it again with someone like Jimin, aka someone with a lot of recent experience, was kind of nerve wracking. You'd rather just get high. 

"Believe it or not, I didn't come to this party because of you," you said finally. 

"Oh?" His gaze lingered on your lips before raising back to your eyes, "then why are you here?" 

For the free alcohol, and hopefully free drugs, would've been your honest answer. 

"Why does anyone attend parties? To have some fun of course."

Jimin regarded you for a moment before replying, "there are different types of fun at parties. Which one are you here for?"

You shrugged, "not the type you're interested in."

With that, you filled your cup to the top before walking out of the room, eyes peeled for a dealer. Your talk with Jimin had heightened your desire for some fun, which for you was to feel nothing at all. All you had to do was find a dealer that would be willing to give you a sample. 

Thankfully, with your experience, finding someone was no problem. In less than 10 minutes you had found and flagged down a man that seemed much too old to be at a high school party. You chuckled inwardly at the sudden thought of 'cheating' on Yoongi with another dealer, but Yoongi wasn't always available, especially now that the police were on his back. 

After getting the dealer to trust that you weren't a cop, which was stupid considering your age, he eyed you with a more comfortable stare. 

"Okay, what do you need?" He asked patiently. 

You paused for a moment, thinking it over. You already had gotten some Adderall from Yoongi earlier today, and you were craving something a little stronger. But you were in the mood of something relaxing, not stimulating.  

Then the thought of heroin popped into your mind. You were always careful when it came to opioids since they're insanely addictive, but the last time you had some was a pretty long time ago. You were sure the gap was long enough for it to be safe to take it again. Besides, the feeling it gave was always amazing, like every cell in your body was relaxed and calm. 

You'd like that at the moment, and you told him just that. 

He excused himself for a second, rushing into a room before returning again with a bag of fine white powder. He held it out to you discretely, but not before announcing the price. 

"I want a sample first," you said, but the man shook his head. 

"Sorry, no samples."

That made you scoff, "What? How am I supposed to know if it's good or not? Besides this is heroin I'm talking about, not weed."

"Either give me the money and take it or don't. I don't do samples."

"No thanks, I'll look somewhere else."

You turned and started making your way away from him, feeling a bit irritated, but not very angry. You've never had an issue with finding samples at a party. You just seemed to have picked the wrong guy. 

But soon enough, after dealing with multiple dealers that refused, you huffed in frustration. 

"What is up today with you guys? Why is everyone suddenly so against samples?" You rambled to one of them. He just gave you a tired look. 

"Supply has been low lately. I've heard that the police are closing in on some of our harbour guys- uh, major suppliers, if you don't understand. A lot of them have had to lay low because of it, meaning guys like us aren't getting a lot of supply lately. We can't afford to give out samples right now."

So Yoongi wasn't the only one in a tight spot at the moment. Turns out a lot of dealers are suffering right now. That almost made you groan out loud. 

"So that's a hard no to the sample?" You said, causing the guy to raise an eyebrow. 

"Just pay up, don't be cheap," he said with crossed arms. 

"It's a party. Obviously, I didn't bring any money with me, I've never needed it."

The guy just shook his head and walked away, leaving you alone and needy. 

No samples. No dealers. You couldn't contact Yoongi at the moment either, which meant drugs were now out of the question. So much for having fun. 

You downed your cup of beer, though you knew the most it would do was leave you buzzed. You could always start searching for the vodka you had seen earlier, but your dad was coming back tomorrow and you didn't want to be dealing with a killer hangover when meeting him. 

While your mind did back flips trying to figure out a way to salvage the night, your gaze caught Jimin at the other side of the room. He was laughing with a girl, rarely taking a sip from his cup as he listened to the girl talk about things you couldn't hear. 

You've heard a lot of people say that taking heroin feels like having 1000 orgasms at once. Obviously, there was nothing else that could achieve such a feeling.

But there was definitely something that came close.

As if hearing your thoughts, Jimin's eyes, which had been scanning the room nonchalantly, fell on your figure. When you didn't look away, he tilted his head, almost like he was asking a question. 

Your gaze flickered to the staircase before landing back on him. Hoping he'd get the hint, you started making your way up them, not waiting to see if he was following. 

Asking for sex was one thing you would not grant Park Jimin. If he wanted it, he was going to have to be smart enough to get it. 

After checking in on a few rooms, you finally entered one that wasn't occupied with a moaning mess of bodies. It was luxurious, with a king sized bed wrapped in comfy looking sheets, a fluffy carpet coating most of the floor and a mini chandelier hanging overhead. 

It made you wonder what the hell Taehyung's parents did for a living. 

Before you could ponder any further, the sound of the room’s door opening and then closing quickly pulled you out of your thoughts, which was then followed by the sound of light footsteps treading carefully on the wooden floor. 

When the footsteps softened because of the carpet, you turned around to find Jimin standing barely a foot away from you, his gaze focused on your still form. Now that the prospect of sex was a lot more likely, you let yourself properly enjoy the sight of him. Your eyes first started with his body, taking in the toned muscles that peaked through his white shirt and then his thick thighs that were exposed through his ripped jeans. 

"It looks like you've changed your mind," he said, taking a step closer, causing you to take a step back.

But Jimin simply took another step forward until you could feel the cold wall press into your back. One of his hands leaned against the wall behind your head while the other leaned against the wall beside your stomach, caging you in the process. It forced you to focus on his face now, rather than his body. His orange hair was still dishevelled, framing his face perfectly. Despite the softness of his cheeks, his jawline was sharp, along with his eyes and nose. With how close he was, you could see every dip and pore in his face, yet somehow you couldn't find a single flaw on his skin. 

His eyes scanned your own body and face the same way you had barely a second ago, pupils dilating in desire.

"Can I touch you, kitten?"

Ignoring the nickname, your gaze travelled down to his lips, which looked so soft and plump. You wanted to know how they would feel on your skin, especially on your own lips. 

You nodded slowly before breathing out your answer, "yes."

Jimin wasted no time pulling you closer towards him. He let his hands run down your arms and rest at your waist as his eyes flickered between your lips and neck, as if conflicted as to which one to start with.

As he pulled your waist against him, his lips started on your neck, leaving behind light kisses that gradually became more and more heated. His hand rubbed circles against your hip, in an oddly reassuring manner, while his lips started to lower to your collarbone. 

Your breathing started to intensify as Jimin left open mouthed kisses against your neck and jaw. 

"I was hoping you'd change your mind," he breathed against your neck. A new set of pleasuring shivers travelled down your spine.

"Why's that?"

His hand, which had been resting on your hip, traveled upwards to cup your cheek, "I wasn't joking when I said you had a pretty face."

The hand cupping your cheek suddenly pulled you forward as Jimin connected your lips with his. They were so soft and plump as they moved against yours, causing your stomach to flutter in satisfaction. You never realised just how pleasurable making out was until today.

Jimin’s lips travelled back to your neck as he continued to drop heated kisses against your skin. You could still feel his hand rubbing circles into your hip while the other brushed against your cheek to hold your head steady. 

Feeling a little hazy, your hand disappeared into your pocket to bring out the white bottle Yoongi had given you this morning. As Jimin continued to wreck your neck in the most pleasurable way possible, you opened the bottle behind his back and moved it to down a pill or two. 

But the sound of its opening caused Jimin to look up until he eyed the bottle in your hand. 

"Are those drugs?" He asked suddenly, pulling away from you slightly. 

"No they're just Skittles," you replied sarcastically, moving the bottle towards your lips once again. But before you could pop even one pill, Jimin swiped the bottle out of your hand and chucked it into the trash can across the room. 

"Wh- Hey! What the hell?!" You protested, but he gently pushed you back against the wall.

"No drugs in the bedroom."

Before you could scoff he closed the distance between the two of you once again, letting his lips brush against your ear, "you're in my bedroom, Y/N. That means you follow my rules."

As if to make a point, he brushed his fingers against the inside of your clothed thigh, pulling a heavy breath from your lips. 

Your irritation soon morphed into pleasure as Jimin brought his lips to yours once again. One of his hands was still rubbing circles against your hip, but the other had moved down to your waist to pull you closer to him. 

“Why did you-” he paused at the sight of you as he pulled back for a moment. Swollen lips, messy hair, heavy pants… Jimin didn’t think he’d ever encountered someone hotter in his entire life. 

He cleared his throat, hoping you didn’t notice the pause, “why’d you change your mind?”

You took him in for a moment. His rust-coloured hair was dishevelled, with a few strands falling onto his forehead, while his plush lips separated to accommodate his heavy breaths. 

You shrugged. 

“I wanted to try a different kind of fun,”

“Fun?” He repeated with a grin.

You felt his hand circle your wrist before he guided you away from the wall. From this angle, you got to enjoy his back muscles peeking from his white shirt before he turned back to you. 

“Clothes off. Get on the bed,” he instructed, pulling his shirt over his head and throwing it to a corner. 

“I’ll show you what fun is, kitten.”

Next Chapter...

Tag List: @florabloomgirly

Chapter 2: Nothing Personal

Summary: Elitist Academy is exactly what it sounds like: an academy that focuses on teaching students from elite classes of the magic community. When Y/N is thrown into the academy to learn alongside 8 men, she realises she’ll have to learn to work with them, whether she likes it or not.

Pairing: Reader x OT7 (Choose Your Own)

Genre: Magic School au, mystery, angst

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: domestic abuse, additional warnings might be added as story progresses

“When was Elitist Academy created, and for what reason?”

A few students gasped as the sound of the button going off reverberated around the room, a moment of complete shock replacing the once tense atmosphere. It was like the silence after a storm, the room so quiet that you were sure a pin dropping would have been heard easily.

Slowly, your gaze dropped to your hand. Namjoon’s much larger palm was pressed against your own, which itself was pressed roughly against the bright red button. You smiled. 

Poor Namjoon… he really did put up a good fight. 

But this victory was yours. 

“Elitist Academy was built in 1740, two years after the discovery of the Tree of Life. It was built to protect the tree, as well as to teach the children of the elite to be respectful, humble, and kind members of the magic society,” you concluded. 

You may not have been as cocky as Namjoon, but you were sure of your answer. It would be your win today.

The Professor seemed pleased as she smiled and turned towards the class. 

“That is-”

“Incomplete!” Namjoon exclaimed, cutting the teacher off in his excitement. You watched him laugh smugly, clearly believing that your answer had been incorrect. 

“Excuse me?”

But Namjoon was undeterred as he crossed his arms over his chest, “Park Bogum also built this academy for his sons, so that they could learn magic in a formal and academic setting.”

You scoffed.

“That’s just a personal goal, it doesn’t count as one of the formal reasons for his decision.”

“Of course it counts. It was one of the goals and you didn’t state it. Therefore, you got the question wrong,” he spoke matter-of-factly. 

You could only blink incredulously, “you can’t be serious…”

Was he seriously going to be so petty? Namjoon was many things, but a sore loser was one thing you thought was beneath even him. Why was it so hard for men to just admit when they are clearly in the wrong? Their ego was so unimaginably large, especially the ego of the blockhead standing before you. 

“You lost,” you finally deadpanned, “just accept it.”

“How can you deem yourself the winner when you failed to correctly answer the question?” He stated again, this time a little annoyed, but now your patience was wearing just as thin.

“I did answer the question correctly! Personal goals don’t count in the official creation of the academy.”

Professor Kari stepped forward, “alright, why don’t we try to be a little civilised-”

“We are being civilised,” Namjoon said, turning towards Ms. Kari for a moment before turning back towards you. You already knew the look in his eyes, already knew to brace yourself for his next words.

“It’s the lack of intelligence that’s the issue here.”

“Intelligence?” You replied without skipping a beat, “no one with intelligence would willingly have hair that resembles a porcupine.”

You watched in satisfaction as his cocky face fell, an offended expression taking its place, “Wha- You’re going to attack my hair when you’ve got a mouth like that? I’d expect a little more class considering you’re literally the daughter of-”

“Enough.”

Professor Kari’s voice cut through your argument, a firmness to it that had even the other students sitting up a bit straighter. Her expression no longer held a warm and welcoming smile.

“The answer that was provided was enough to be counted as correct. But since you feel that it is not, I will grant both of you the extra credit,” she sighed, “and remind me to never do any competitive activities in this class again…”

The bell chimed throughout the classroom as she mumbled those last words to herself, while the students waited for the ringing to cease uncertainly, unsure if this was a “the bell doesn’t dismiss you, I do” class or not. Once the classroom quieted again, Professor Kari faced the students. 

“That will be all for today, class dismissed.”

You sent Namjoon a glare before walking off, pissed off at his immaturity. All he had to do was throw a small tantrum and the extra credits were served to him on a silver platter. It was infuriating.

Namjoon, on the other hand, simply matched your glare as he watched you practically storm out of the room.

So she has a few more brain cells than I expected, he thought.

That doesn’t mean she’s anywhere near my level.

-

-

-

You entered the main hall fuming, grateful that the lecture had come to an end and you could finally stop looking at his stupid face. Namjoon had always been a first class imbecile growing up, his cocky attitude mixed with an enormous ego tended to make it easy for him. But boy did he have his extraordinary moments.

You scanned the main hall, eager to get any thoughts of him out of your mind. It was huge, with maroon and gold banners lining the walls and a shiny creme-coloured marble floor. The walls encompassed different shades of rich mahogany with wonderfully carved designs and windows that showcased the lush green grass of the courtyard. But what really attracted attention was the centrepiece, the Tree of Life, which stood proudly underneath the stained glass, dome-shaped ceiling. Its branches spanned almost the entirety of the ceiling above you, and held vibrantly pink petals that seemed to glow under the natural light that entered through the stained glass above. 

It was beautiful.

“First years, please gather in the dining hall for a mandatory assembly in 10 minutes, thank you,” a voice suddenly announced through the intercom. 

The students, which had paused their conversations during the announcement, went back to talking and laughing with each other. The ones you assumed were first years, on the other hand, began searching the halls, clearly confused as to where the dining hall could be.

“Excuse me?” A voice behind you called.

You turned around to find two guys, one enthusiastically waving you over while the other’s gaze studied the Tree of Life nonchalantly. Reluctantly, you walked over to them.

“Hi, I’m Hoseok,” the one that had been waving to you spoke. 

His face, which consisted of soft cheeks but a sharp nose, held a bright smile that you almost felt was too bright. The only thing that dampened it a bit was his brown hair, which had messily been parted at the side. You suddenly recognised him as one of the students in the class you had just attended earlier. 

“You wouldn’t happen to know where the dining hall is, would you?” He continued, “this school is just one big maze to me, I swear.”

“Just go through those double doors over there and it’ll be the first door on your left,” you explained, pointing towards the giant pair of double doors on your right. There was a pause after your words, as if he was waiting for you to say something more.

When he realised you weren’t going to continue, he smiled again, “I see, thank you so much you’re a lifesaver.”

You turned away, ready to make your own way to the dining hall, but Hoseok stopped you with his hand.

“I don’t think I caught your name.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in annoyance.

What did this guy want?

“Y/N,” you said reluctantly, hoping he’d get the hint and leave you alone. 

Unfortunately, he did not.

“Y/N… that’s a pretty name,” he continued, ignoring your flat tone, “we were just in the same History of Magic 101 class. You seemed to know the subject pretty well if the competition was anything to go by.”

Did he really think flattery would get him anywhere with you? 

“Oh! I almost forgot,” he suddenly exclaimed, looking apologetic, “this is my friend, Taehyung. We’ve known each other since we were kids.”

He motioned towards the guy behind him, who had been scanning the room carelessly. At the mention of his name, his gaze finally fell on you. It felt… strange. His hair was messy and almost silver in colour while his skin seemed almost as white as snow. But it was his eyes that uncharacteristically drew you in for a moment. Despite being sharp and unwelcoming, they were a piercing blue colour that seemed to draw goosebumps from your arms. The more you stared at them, the more you felt… chilly. As if there were a thin sheet of ice covering your skin. 

For a moment, you believed it was because you felt intimidated by him. But then your gaze dropped to your hands and your eyes widened at the faint layer of frost coating your skin. 

“What the-” You muttered incredulously. 

Hoseok, on the other hand, raised an eyebrow, “Taehyung…”

Taehyung turned his head and the chills suddenly vanished, replaced instead with the feeling of melted ice trickling down your arms. 

“Don’t mind him, he’s a little intimidated by strangers,” Hoseok said, a bright smile still very much apparent on his face, “but once you get to know him, he’s a great friend.”

“If you get to know him,” Taehyung corrected flatly, his piercing gaze back on you for a moment. 

You scoffed internally. He must think so high and mighty of himself with that attitude, yet the only thing it made him was a jerk. 

“Well, it was really nice meeting you, Y/N,” Hoseok chuckled, as if Taehyung had told a funny joke, “I hope we can be friends.”

He held out his hand towards you, clearly waiting for a handshake. You couldn’t tell what his intentions were, whether he was looking to start some kind of friendship or something more. But either way it only took you a second to make up your mind. 

Instead, you shrugged your bookbag onto your shoulder…

 and then wordlessly walked away.

Surprised, Hoseok watched you disappear behind the giant double doors without so much as a glance backwards.

“Was it… something I said?” He asked.

“Not everyone is interested in being friends,” Taehyung said, his tone a lot more thawed than earlier. 

“Let’s get going, the assembly will start soon.”

-

-

-

Thankfully the assembly had gone by pretty quickly, saving you from having to listen to a long and boring speech from the academy’s principal. He had mostly just gone over all the basics, like obvious rules and regulations. Despite the academy being for the spoiled children of the elite, the rules seemed pretty strict in your opinion. Now whether the punishments for breaking those rules would actually be applied or not remained to be seen. 

After the assembly, you wandered through the residences to look for your dorm room. If you were reading your documents right, it should be on the top floor in room 308. So you walked through the halls of the top floor, taking in the large off-white planters filled with ghost white flowers and the luxurious mini chandeliers that lined the hallway. Similar to the main hall, shades of mahogany coated the walls while the marble floor was covered in a plush, maroon carpet. 

You finally came to a stop in front of your room, taking in the dark brown wooden door and gold handle. With the exhausting day you had endured, you wasted no time in turning the knob.

Your room, to no one’s surprise, was enormous. 

You stood in what seemed like the living room, with high ceilings that held a huge chandelier and a carpet coating most of the wooden floor. A bookshelf spanning an entire wall stood to one side, filled to the brim with various books, while another wall was entirely made up of glass to showcase a view of the city. In the middle of the room, a sofa atop a plush carpet faced the glass wall while a TV stood between them. You could make out two small hallways on either side of the room, no doubt leading to the kitchen and the bedroom. The size of the living room may not have surprised you, but the grandeur of it definitely did.

Was this really all for you? 

You walked into one of the hallways that led to two doors, curiously peering inside one of them. Unlike the living room, it was a simple bedroom with a generic wooden floor, desk, and bed. The academy probably expected you to magic the room to your liking so that it was more personal. 

You walked out of your bedroom and turned to the other door, curious as to what it could be. There was already a bathroom and closet attached to your bedroom, so maybe it was just another closet? You turned the handle to find out. 

“Oh!” 

You startled at the sight of a man who seemed to have been making his way to the door. His hair was dirty blonde and neatly parted, while his lips were pillowy and plush. His eyes were a sparkling blue, not as bright and icy as Taehyung’s had been, but still intense in their own way. Your gaze dropped from his equally surprised face to his uniform, coming to the realisation that he was a student. 

Who on Earth was this guy…?

You looked over his shoulder to see a bedroom identical to yours, with the same simple desk, bed and floor. Why was there another bedroom in this dorm if you were supposed to live here alone?

“You scared me,” the man chuckled, giving you an apologetic look, “you must be my roommate, Han Y/N? I’m Park Jimin, it’s nice to meet you.”

The word “roommate” had your gaze snapping back to him. 

“Roommate?” You repeated incredulously, “what do you mean roommate? I thought the dorms were individual?”

Jimin shook his head, “no, we share the dorm rooms in pairs. Something about creating profound friendships and whatnot?”

Honestly speaking, you didn’t really mind having a roommate. Living in this enormous dorm by yourself seemed lonely anyway. The problem was, why was he your roommate?

“Okay, but how can we be roommates? You’re a guy and I’m a girl…?”

“What difference does that make?” He asked as his head tilted slightly,“in the world of magic, no gender is stronger than the other. We are equal in the face of power, are we not?”

As correct as he was, being compared to someone like him in any way had you irritated. You were nothing like the man standing before you, who was likely hiding his many evils behind a pretty smile and kind words. You wondered what kind of evil you would have to endure this year from him, because ultimately you really were stuck with him for the rest of the year. 

Yet even so, you weren’t going to let him hurt you. He could try all he wanted once he finally showed his true face, but you’ll be ready to deal with him the same way you’ve always dealt with the others. You’d never let someone like him walk all over you. 

Never.

“Whatever,” you finally said, tired and annoyed by the new turn of events and especially your helplessness within it all, “just stay out of my way, I have no interest in people like you.”

Jimin watched you lock yourself in your room with a surprised expression on his face, unsure of why you’d looked so angry. 

“People like you…?” He muttered. 

What did she mean by that?

-

-

-

You threw yourself onto your bed with a frustrated sigh, annoyed by today’s events-or rather today’s people. You hated that guy that got bullied this morning. You hated Namjoon. You hated Hoseok and Taehyung. You hated Jimin. 

But really…

You just missed your mom. 

You knew you sounded like a child saying it, but it was true. A rotten feeling had been eating at your heart ever since you left your home and arrived at this school. A part of you felt like you had left her behind, and being alone in that house… with him…?

She must have been miserable at this moment, all alone. You felt like a horrible daughter to do that to her, but what other choice did you have? Ultimately, you were helpless in front of-

“Y/N?!” Jimin’s voice suddenly exploded from what seemed like the living room. 

Your eyebrows furrowed at his tone, which sounded demanding and urgent. So he finally decided to reveal his true colours? Yelling for you as if you were some kind of servant that was made to tend to his needs. If he was one of those men that will make you do all the chores in this dorm,

you were going to beat him to death with a frying pan. 

You pushed yourself off your bed angrily, storming out of your room and into the living room. If a piece of your mind was what he wanted, then a piece of your mind he would get.

“Okay listen up, Park Jimin,” you said angrily, “I thought I told you t-”

You came to an abrupt stop at the doorway of the living room, eyes widening at the scene in front of you. 

On the ground was Jimin, with his eyes closed and motionless. But the rest of the room was empty and entirely untouched. Why was he passed out on the floor? 

Did he have a heart attack or something…?

“Oh my god,” you panicked, running towards him. You had no clue how to handle a medical emergency like that. Sure you may not have liked him, but that didn’t mean you wanted him dead. 

You started to shake him, trying to get him to wake up, “Jimin-?”

A hard object suddenly slammed into the back of your head, causing stars to burst in your line of sight as you fell to the floor, finding yourself in the spot next to Jimin. The pain was unbearable, as if your entire skull was imploding in on itself. You had to blink a few times to get your bearings and keep yourself awake. 

The sound of footsteps made you turn around, but you could only take in a pair of gold and black school-issued shoes. Your headache and blurry vision prevented you from looking up any further. 

You opened your mouth to speak, but the person snapped his wand forward, slamming your lips shut immediately. 

“Sorry, but we won’t be having any of that,” they said. 

Damnit.

How were you going to get out of this if you couldn’t speak?

Your head suddenly began to throb even more painfully, probably from the hit it had taken earlier. You could feel black spots begin to invade your vision as you started to blackout. 

The person’s shoes thudded against the floor once again, getting closer and closer to your helpless form. From your blurry vision, you could only make out long blonde hair. 

“Sorry kid,” the person said, but his voice felt far away. You felt your eyes close and your mind shut down, but not before one last sentence. 

“It’s nothing personal.”

Just finished writing and editing chapter 2 for Unless It's You and chapter 3 for The Sex Contract, so now I don't know which one to post first (I never thought I'd ever have this kind of problem with how slow I update lmao)

Chapter 3: Princess

Summary: Elitist Academy is exactly what it sounds like: an academy that focuses on teaching students from elite classes of the magic community. When Y/N is thrown into the academy to learn alongside 8 men, she realises she’ll have to learn to work with them, whether she likes it or not.

Pairing: Reader x OT7 (Choose Your Own)

Genre: Magic School au, mystery, angst

Word Count: 4.3k

Warnings: domestic abuse, additional warnings might be added as story progresses

“Dude! What are you doing?!”

“Let go of her! What are you a creep?”

“Come on man, why are you-”

“Stop it! I’m not doing anything to her!”

What was going on?

You groaned at the loud voices surrounding you, the sound hurting your ears as you managed to open your eyes slowly. But when you were met with a midnight blue sky, you bolted upwards with a start, gaze immediately scanning the area around you. You were sitting on the ground of what seemed like a forest, sparsely filled with large coniferous trees that reached for the glittering stars. Small animals flitted through their branches in the dark, seeming more like mere wisps of shadows. Soft green grass brushed against the palms of your hands while you squinted, trying to figure out if there was anything else lurking in the dark. 

Anything that you should actually be worried about.

“Oh look, she’s awake.”

You turned towards the sound of the voice to find a man towering over you with his thick arms crossed over his chest. His hair was blonde, and long enough for him to manage a part of it into a short ponytail while the rest of it fell to frame his face and neck. His eyes were a deep green colour that seemed to practically glow in the darkness of the night. Your gaze also caught onto two silver cross earrings dangling from his ears. 

Offhandedly you thought he looked like a bunny. 

He was dressed in the Elitist Academy uniform, a clear sign that he was also a student. The only thing that wasn’t clear at the moment was what was going on?

“Glad to see you’re alive sleeping beauty,” he spoke again. You caught slight amusement in his tone, “for a second we thought that Mr. Creep here really killed you.”

Your gaze followed his to another man that you hadn’t noticed had been standing beside you this entire time. His hair was the same shade as the first man that had spoken, but his was a little longer and messily collected into a hair tie, only a single strand free to frame his face. He was also dressed in a uniform, its colours darkened under the night sky. 

Your eyes widened slightly when you leaned forward to catch a glimpse of his face. A black eyepatch hid one of his eyes, but the intense blue of the other was enough to make up for it. It was like a feline’s eye: sharp and calculating. 

Despite the accusation, eyepatch guy remained standing silently with his arms crossed over his chest. 

As your gaze drifted around the forest, you realised that there were a lot more people present that you hadn’t noticed. You recognised Namjoon leaning against a tree, observing everyone closely from afar, while Hoseok and Taehyung stood watching you and cross-earrings guy. Jimin stood beside them with the guy you had saved from being bullied earlier huddled behind him despite being taller. 

You moved to speak but paused when you realised a cloth had been tightly wrapped over your mouth, preventing you from saying even a word. Okay… this did not look good. You were alone, with seven men, in a forest in what seemed like the middle of the night. As the alarms started blaring in your head you pushed yourself off the ground, reaching to remove the cloth, only for a firm hand to grab your wrist. 

“That stays on for now,” eyepatch said, voice solid and gaze unyielding. 

“You could at least try to sound less perverted,” cross-earrings snorted, though his gaze was fixed on eyepatch’s grip on your wrist. 

Eyepatch ignored him just like he had done earlier, not even sparing a glance his way, as he gave you a hard look. The message behind said look was clear: obey me.

With a scoff, you tried to snatch your wrist back, but his hold on you didn’t budge. All you could do was send him a withering glare as you fought his grip, trying to speak through the cloth despite how muffled your voice came out because of it. Maybe a small part of you was scared too considering the situation, but you pushed that fear from your mind. You weren’t going to let any of them hurt you. 

You weren’t going to let any of them hurt you. 

Eyepatch frowned when you finally managed to push him backwards. It was barely a step, but it was enough to get him to realise you weren’t going to back down. He sighed frustratedly, clearly irritated by your lack of compliance. But he was stupid if he thought you were just going to blindly let someone like him keep you here in a dark forest with a gag.

“Fine,” he relented after a moment, finally coming to terms with the fact that you weren’t really the docile type, “but only if you don’t use it.”

That made you pause. 

“Use what…?” You heard Hoseok mutter, clearly confused. Everyone else’s face mirrored his, equally perplexed. Except for Namjoon, of course. 

If glares could kill, eyepatch would have been completely decimated by now. You were sick of him trying to tell you what to do, who did he even think he was? However, you were also just as sick of having your ability to speak taken away from you. 

So you nodded slowly, still irritated by his audacity.

Even then eyepatch seemed to hesitate for a moment before he reached over and removed the piece of cloth. 

“It was you wasn’t it?” You said immediately, “you’re the one that knocked Jimin and I out. Why?”

You couldn’t remember much after the hit you took to your head, but the blurry images of the blonde man standing over you before you passed out seemed to resemble eyepatch greatly. 

“Don’t bother,” cross-earrings said lazily, “we’ve been trying to get answers out of him for an hour.”

“And I deeply apologise for his lack of communication,” a voice suddenly explained from behind the group, “I made Yoongi promise to let me explain everything.”

The group whirled around to look behind them, their eyes widening at the man standing before them before quickly straightening themselves. 

Standing in the centre of a clearing between the trees was Principal Park, the principal of Elitist Academy. He was a man of average height, with short brown hair and a big face. He looked stoic as he stood with his hands clasped behind his back and head held high, with a posh black suit seemingly ironed to perfection. 

“I also apologise for the seemingly drastic measures,” he continued, holding the gaze of each and every one of you, “I’m sure you all must be terribly confused.”

“I promise that none of you are in trouble, nor will any of you be harmed. I simply wished to speak to the eight of you privately as this matter does not concern the rest of the student body.”

Your confused expression mirrored the rest of the group’s expressions. Except for eyepa- Yoongi. He seemed completely unsurprised by the turn of events. But then again, he was the one that had brought you all here in the first place. 

“As you are all aware, Elitist Academy is an academy that was created for the magic society’s upper class, for the sons and daughters born into power and riches so that they may be taught humility, gratitude, and responsibility.”

Principal Park’s gaze swept over you all once more, “but you all are a different type of upper class. You are the elite of the elite.”

You noticed his gaze fall on you during the last sentence. 

Of course…

“When I think of the future of this country, as well as the future of magic, I see the eight of you leading us, hopefully, to success.”

“But in order for such an achievement, you must be provided with training of the highest quality. You must be taught the intricacies of how to be a leader and how to handle the responsibilities that come with it. Which is why you all will be placed in a separate curriculum in comparison to the rest of the students. From now on, your classes will be specialised to prepare you for your distinct future roles.”

“Wait,” you blurted out suddenly, a sinking feeling in your chest. Principal Park’s gaze landed on you, “you’re saying they’ll be the only ones in my class for the rest of our degree? No one else?”

“Yes, that is correct.”

Your chest dropped at the confirmation as your gaze reluctantly scanned the boys around you once again. This couldn’t be happening… You couldn’t be stuck with seven men for the rest of your degree. 

Oblivious to your deteriorating thoughts, Principal Park turned back to the group once again.

“All of you have travelled from different regions of the country, away from your homes and families to receive the finest education available. In a way, you will only have each other during your years here at Elitist Academy. So I hope you find comfort in each other.”

In the midst of your dread, you couldn’t help but catch onto a hint of nostalgia behind his words. But you scoffed inwardly at the thought.

Comfort? In them?

“Well, I suppose I will let you introduce yourselves to each other now, but it is already past midnight,” he said, “I wouldn’t advise you to stay out for too long at this hour.”

The eight of you watched Principal Park turn around and walk deeper into the clearing, hands still clasped behind his back during his confident strides. When he paused, you didn’t have enough time to shield your eyes as a flash of bright light blinded you for a moment. 

It was only when the light had receded when you noticed that the clearing had disappeared, replaced by the entirety of the academy now standing before him. Your eyes widened, wondering what kind of magic had made the school appear in front of you in the blink of an eye. 

“Also,” Principal Park added, back still facing the eight of you, “I did not have Yoongi kidnap you all without reason. It was a lesson to show you that even within the academy you are not fully safe. Always remain vigilant.” 

He turned his head to look each and every one of you in the eye one last time, “it was frightening just how easy it was for Yoongi to capture you all.”

With those comforting words, he turned around once again and walked back to the academy, leaving the eight of you stunned to silence in front of its gates. 

The other’s were probably stunned by the implication that there may be people out to get you even within the academy’s walls, but your silence was for a completely different reason.

The problem… was them.

Principal Park had just thrown you into a class full of men like it was nothing. Not even one girl in the class to make things at least slightly more tolerable. How could he have done it so casually, too?

You could almost hear the laughs of whoever controlled your fate.

“Well, the principal did have a point. We might as well introduce ourselves if we’re going to be stuck with each other from now on,” Namjoon spoke first, to your surprise.

“You make a valid point,” cross-earrings agreed immediately, “I’m Jeon Jungkook, and I can tell when people are lying.”

Your mind, which had been drifting far from the conversation, was suddenly reeled in by Jungkook’s words. They were going to reveal their abilities? Just like that?

“I’m Park Jimin,” your roommate said next, “I can… um, make people feel good?”

Jungkook smirked. 

“Anyone can do that with the right skills.”

Jimin, clearly amused, rolled his eyes, “I obviously didn’t mean it like that. Here, let me show you.”

He walked up to Jungkook and placed his hand on his shoulder, earning a confused expression from Jungkook.

“Dude, what the hell? Don’t touch m-”

You watched Jungkook suddenly quiet, pupils dilating as a calm expression suddenly spread through his features. His lips pulled into an almost dream-like smile. 

“Woah,” he breathed, his voice almost sounding like he was in a daze, “I feel so… calm, and at peace.”

A breathy laugh escaped his lips as his gaze jumped from one thing to another joyously, seemingly seeing his surroundings in a new light, “this is amazing.”

But the serenity in his composure dropped the second Jimin removed his hand from Jungkook’s shoulder. He blinked a few times, as if waking up from a dream, before straightening himself out once again. 

“That’s what I meant,” Jimin explained, “I can control how good I want a person to feel. I can even go as far as making a person drunk on happiness.”

“I have never wanted to make a dirty joke more badly in my entire life.”

Hoseok scratched his head as he seemed to ponder on something, “I’ve heard that Principal Park’s son has the same ability…”

“That’s because I am his son,” Jimin confirmed, turning to Hoseok.

Jungkook gasped, “you’re Principal Park’s son? Wait! You have to tell me, is it true you have an evil twin? I’ve heard so many rumours about it! And I swear I saw this guy that looked just like you in class earlier!”

“Okay,” Namjoon intervened with a judgy eyebrow raised, “I think we’re getting off topic. Would anyone else like to introduce themself?”

“I’m Jung Hoseok,” Hoseok said, “my ability is healing. Pretty basic, I know, but very useful.”

Then he pointed to Taehyung, who was standing silently behind his shoulder, “the one behind me is Taehyung, he can control ice and frost. He’s not very talkative to strangers so don’t mind him.”

So that’s why you had frost on your arms when they had spoken to you earlier today.

“There seems to be a lot of quiet ones amongst us,” Jungkook teased, sending a glance towards you. But at that moment, Jimin spoke up, almost apologetically.

“Actually my brother can’t really help it,” he said, pointing towards the guy that had gotten bullied this morning. He had been practically hiding behind Jimin the entire time you all were here, “this is Kim Seokjin, my brother. He has a speech disability.”

“Wait, what?” You blurted out before you could stop yourself.

“Well who would have thought, she actually speaks!” Jungkook said playfully. 

“He lost his ability to speak when he was younger,” Jimin explained, “not even the magic healers could find a way to help him speak again.”

The guy that you had saved from being bullied earlier… was mute? No wonder he didn’t say anything after. He couldn’t have, even if he wanted to. 

It made you feel kind of… bad, for blowing up on him. 

“That’s weird,” Hoseok spoke up, “magic can usually heal physical illnesses like that.”

“The healers found it weird too, but there was still nothing they could do about it,” Jimin said, but then an edge appeared in his voice, “but it doesn’t matter because either way there’s nothing wrong with him. He’s still my brother, whether he can speak or not.”

He looked around the group, as if daring anyone to object.

“Relax Jimin,” Namjoon said, “I don’t think anyone would stoop that low as to bully someone for that reason.”

You snorted at his statement, earning an odd look from Namjoon. School hadn’t even started yet when you had found Seokjin getting bullied by a bunch of students. 

“That guy is right,” Jungkook said, “you don’t have to worry about that from us at least. What’s his ability though?”

“He, um,” Jimin hesitated.

“He doesn’t have one.”

Everyone’s gaze snapped to him in surprise as Jimin’s words rendered them speechless. 

One of the major reasons why Principal Park had excluded all of you from the rest of the students was because you came from special families. These families, unlike the rest of the magic users, were special because they had a history of being born with unique abilities. Normal magic users couldn’t be born with those abilities, nor could they acquire them in their lives. They would always be dependent on a wand in order to use magic. But you all, coming from special families, didn’t need a wand to perform magic and were each born with unique abilities that made you “stronger” than the rest. 

The thing that was so shocking was that Seokjin was a part of a special family and didn’t have a special ability. You don’t think you’ve ever heard of a child from a special family being born without some kind of an ability. It was honestly the first time hearing anything like this for you and, judging from the others’ expressions, they were thinking the same. 

Namjoon cleared his throat, clearly ready to change the subject, “anyways, my name is Namjoon. My ability is a little complex to explain to others so, in a nutshell, let’s just say I’m extraordinarily smart.”

Jungkook crossed his arms over his chest with a frown, “did he just call us dumb?”

“That question in itself proves my point,” Namjoon deadpanned. 

He then turned towards Yoongi, who had been standing to the side quietly with his arms crossed over his chest the entire time, “what about you?”

Yoongi just gave him a blank stare before stating, “Min Yoongi.”

The rest of you waited for him to continue, but it only stretched the silence. 

Guess not everyone was willing to share their ability…

When the guys had given up on him, their gaze then fell on you. It took you a moment of silence to realise they were waiting for you to speak. They had all happily given their names and abilities to bond in that way guys seemed to do easily. 

And now they were expecting you to do the same to join the club. 

But you didn’t want to be part of this boys club, because, ultimately, it didn’t matter if they had a smile on their face or an expression that told you they didn’t care. It didn’t matter if they were cold or friendly. Shy or confident. 

All men were the same. 

And you would much rather go through this school year alone than risk being hurt by them. 

“Yeah, this isn’t happening,” you finally said, tone flat, “I want nothing to do with any of you or this family.”

You turned around, starting to walk back to the academy.

“Just leave me alone.”

The boys all watched you disappear behind giant double doors that led straight into the residences. 

“I’m getting a sense of deja vu right now,” Hoseok mumbled, watching the double doors close shut. 

Jimin nodded in agreement, “you’re telling me.”

Namjoon couldn’t help but burst into laughter, “god, she’s so predictable.”

“You know her?” Jungkook asked.

“Her name is Han Y/N,” Namjoon explained, “our father’s are close friends, so we practically grew up with each other.”

“Didn’t seem like that to me,” Taehyung said, voice as icy as his gaze. Namjoon frowned, slightly annoyed by his attitude.

“I said we grew up together, not that we were childhood besties. Besides, Y/N would never be friends with someone like me.”

“Because of your arrogance?” Jungkook asked with an eyebrow raised.

“Because I’m a man.”

Everyone’s brows raised at his words, partly surprised and partly confused by his answer. 

“What?” Hoseok finally asked. 

“Y/N hates men,” Namjoon explained, “it’s like her quirk I suppose. She’ll be the kindest and most caring person until a man shows up. Then she’ll be about as caring as a brick wall.”

Seokjin shifted unnoticeably behind Jimin, letting his gaze drift to the floor.

She wasn’t the nicest, but… she still stood up for me against those bullies, he thought, she can’t be that bad.

“It’s why she didn’t even bother staying here to get to know you guys.” 

“Did something happen to her that she’s like that?” Jimin wondered out loud, surprised by the revelation, “there’s no way it’s for no reason.” 

Namjoon shrugged, “if there is a reason I don’t know it. She’s been like that ever since I met her.”

“What does it even matter?” Taehyung said, growing tired of the conversation, “she’s just a little girl that throws a tantrum every time she sees a man.”

“Little girl or not, she’s anything but harmless.”

The boys all gave Namjoon a questioning look, urging him to explain the ominous comment. 

“I’ll tell you her ability, but only because I’m warming up to you guys,” he said, “she can command anyone to do anything she wants. As long as she says it, and you hear it, you’ll have to do it. Even if you die trying.”

The others’ eyes widened, slightly horrified by just how bad a power like that can be for them. But Jungkook’s eyes were widened for an entirely different reason. 

“Wait…” he said slowly, turning to Yoongi, “that’s why you gagged her? Because you knew about her ability?”

“Got any other assumptions you want to make about me, mafia boy?”

Jungkook chuckled sheepishly, “oops.”

Yoongi then turned to the others, “I, for one, think she's smart for not wanting to waste her time here.”

“Should’ve left when she did,” he muttered under his breath before turning around and making his way back to the academy. 

“Isn’t he a treat?” Jungkook said sarcastically, watching Yoongi disappear behind the double doors of the residence. 

“Yeah,” Namjoon agreed, studying Jungkook, “but why did he call you ‘mafia boy’?”

Jungkook just raised an eyebrow, “wouldn’t you like to know, porcupine head.”

“Anyways,” he said, clapping his hands, “it looks like this party's over. I’ll see you guys later.”

The last four boys watched Jungkook take the same route Yoongi had.

“I agree,” Jimin finally said, “it would be best to call it a night considering how late it is. I’m sure Y/N will warm up to us eventually.”

“I’m sure as well,” Hoseok said, a hopeful smile on his face, “we’ll be studying together for an entire degree. Her view of us will have to change over time!”

“Good luck with that,” Namjoon snorted. For as long as he’d known you, you’d always been set on blocking yourself from every man you met. Namjoon had his own theories on why that was, but he’d never actually been able to pinpoint the exact cause. 

He met the hopeful gazes of Jimin and Hoseok.

“Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

-

-

-

You walked through the empty hallway towards the dorms, fuming at the recent turn of events. Your entire life you’ve spent trying to avoid men like the plague and yet life just had a way of making sure you were stuck with them regardless. 

Namjoon’s presence was especially annoying, like a rotten cherry on top of a rotting cake. You bet he’s been waiting for your downfall ever since he stepped foot in this school, that arrogant bastard. You’ll never give him that satisfaction, even if it’s the last thing you do. 

The sound of muffled footsteps behind you had you pausing in the centre of the corridor. 

Did one of the guys really decide to follow you after you left? 

You had been hoping Namjoon would tell them about your ability and that would be enough to scare them off. But it seemed that you were mistaken. 

Typical men. Too busy listening to their ego than to reason. 

You turned around, only to find the hallway completely empty. With furrowed brows, you slowly made your way to the end of the hallway.

Was this some sort of elaborate prank? The guys hadn’t really seemed like the type, except for maybe Jungkook you supposed. He seemed to have an air of mischief around him. 

What exactly was going on?

Another muffled sound reverberated around the hallway, as if someone had clanged something metal against a hard surface. It took you a second to realise that the sounds were muffled because they had been coming from the main hall, so you pushed against the large double doors to enter it. 

Your eyes widened at the scene. Under the moonlight that was entering through the stained glass ceiling above, the pink petals of the Tree of Life glowed a mystic violet colour. The glow spread throughout the dark hall, lighting it up beautifully. 

But right in front of the stone barrier encasing the tree’s base was a figure hunched over on the floor, wrapped in the academy uniform. The person mostly had their back to you from what you could make out in the hazily moonlit hall. 

You wasted no time in pulling out your wand and aiming at them. Compared to most students, you were already quite skilled with magic, so hopefully it would be enough to deal with whoever this was. 

“Hey, what are you doing?” You asked after taking a few steps towards the person you were starting to realise was a boy. When you watched him pause, you tightened your grip on the wand, “who are you?”

Then he stood.

And your eyes widened in confusion. 

It was Jimin. The same plump lips, small nose, and sharp jaw. But… it wasn’t him, because the man standing before you had eyes that were sharp… and red. A deep red that reminded you of blood. It was fitting even, since his gaze felt more like a knife slowly slicing into your skin, rather than the warmth that seemed to always accompany Jimin’s soft gaze. His hair was a deep purple, messily parted at the side. 

“Jimin…?” You said, uncertainly. Your eyes were saying that this was clearly Jimin standing before you, but your mind…

Your mind was screaming anything but him.

“Tsk,” Jimin said, an arrogant tilt to his head as he scanned you callously. Watching his mannerisms only grew your uncertainty even more. 

“Guess again, princess.”

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Chapter 2: Busted [M]

Summary: “A manwhore and a junkie… it’s a match made in heaven.”

Pairing: Park Jimin x Reader

Genre: High School au, angst

Word Count: 8.9k

Warnings: 18+, substance use disorder/drug addiction, PTSD, child abuse, additional warnings might be added as story progresses

A/N: Sorry for taking forever to update, a lack of motivation and school are to blame :( On another note, thanks for that anon's kind words, comments like that really help to keep me motivated!

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Jimin lurched upright as the sound of the door shuddering violently reverated around the room, his heart hammering wildly in his chest. For a fleeting moment, he was back in his childhood bedroom, watching his door be slammed against repeatedly while his father let out a string of threats from behind the wooden structure. 

But instead of his father bursting into the room, it was Taehyung, who looked exhausted and distressed. 

“Party’s over, get out,” he announced, pausing when he noticed who was sitting up on the bed, “oh, it’s just you.”

Taehyung looked into the hallway for a moment, shouting at someone to hurry up, before poking his head back into the room, “are you staying over? My parents won’t mind, you already know they love you more than me.”

Jimin chuckled, trying to mask his erratic heartbeat, “they won’t mind me, but what about her?”

Their gazes both dropped on you, who was still sleeping peacefully beside Jimin under the soft covers of the bed. He found it funny how Taehyung’s incessant banging hadn’t even caused you to stir in your spot. 

“Yeah no, definitely not. She needs to go.”

Jimin nodded, expecting as much, “I guess I can stay over tonight, just let me wake her up.”

“Great!” Taehyung declared, clapping his hands together, “but when you’re done that, sleep in the second bedroom, not this one. My parents would kill me if they thought I made you sleep in some random guest room.”

“Because I have parents!” He raised his voice suddenly so everyone rushing in the hallways could hear him, “I’m not one of those frat boys whose parents go on week-long business trips! Mine will be back in a few hours from a date, so everyone get out of my house!”

After watching Taehyung scurry back into the halls, Jimin turned towards your sleeping form. 

You were completely passed out as you laid on the mattress with the comforter covering half your face and a pillow fixed snuggly between your arms. The part of your face that Jimin could see was puffy from the few hours of sleep the two of you had managed. 

“Y/N?” He tried, repeating your name a few times. 

But the most you did was shift in your position, and even that had been at his last repeat of your name. With a sigh, Jimin shuffled closer to you, letting his hand rest on your bare arm tentatively while he called your name once again. 

It was only when he shook your arm when you finally shifted, “hm?”

“The party’s over, you have to go kitten,” Jimin answered. He felt you slipping back to sleep, causing him to catch your arm and pull you into a sitting position. 

The change in posture had you blinking lazily as Jimin’s figure appeared before you, top exposed and sitting up in the bed the two of you had apparently spent the night in. His orange hair was sticking out in multiple directions while his eyes were slightly squinted due to his sleepy form. 

The party’s over…

Party? Yes, party… there had been a party and then you and Jimin had sex and then the two of you had fallen asleep. 

Reluctantly, you turned to take in the rest of the room, which was still dark aside from the bedside table lamps and a sliver of moonlight which had escaped through the window. If the moon was still out, then that meant the two of you must have only slept for a few hours. 

“Hey,” Jimin spoke up after a couple of seconds, noticing your groggy form, “you good?”

You blinked a couple of times cluelessly, wishing instead to just burrow back into the sheets and sleep for days. Your body felt like an anchor: heavy and unwilling to move until a sturdy metal chain was ready to drag you out of the bed. 

“Did you come here alone?” He asked when you didn’t answer, assessing your state carefully. Your nod came after a few moments too long as your mind struggled to process his question. 

That made Jimin’s eyebrows furrow, “okay, I’ll take you home. It’s still pretty late in the night and I don’t think you can drive in this state.”

With that said, he pushed himself out of bed, the blanket falling to the floor to reveal his toned back as he began throwing on his clothes. It wasn’t until he was pulling his shirt over his head when you forced yourself to stumble to your feet and do the same. 

-

-

-

The cool air felt fresh against your skin as the two of you walked along the road quietly side by side. It had taken Jimin forever to get your address and car keys in order to drive you home, but once he had parked your car in front of your house, he only needed one look at the abnormally long distance between the separate driveway and the front door to decide that your exhausted form wouldn’t last two steps without him. 

Your house wasn’t like most, slotted between a row of other houses to form a crowded and organised community. Rather it was located far away from any neighbourhoods, and instead nestled between large acres of grassy land. Jimin would’ve guessed it was farmland, but in the dark he found it hard to make out any crops or barns with animals, so he couldn’t say for sure. 

That led to the two of you walking along a dirt-packed footpath, with Jimin keeping a firm hand on your arm to make sure you wouldn’t fall from exhaustion. It still irked him as to how you could still be so tired even now. Sure, you weren’t exactly running on a full night’s sleep, but the few hours you had managed should have been enough to ensure you weren’t a walking zombie. 

“Was it the sex?” He finally asked, “How can you be this tired?”

Even in your exhausted state you still managed to shoot him a withering glare. 

“If you had just let me take the Adderall earlier, I wouldn’t be like this.”

Jimin’s expression fell quickly, a sinking feeling in his stomach, “why? You don’t need it.”

“How would you know? I have a prescription,” you lied smoothly, “do you not believe in mental health, Park Jimin?”

You tried to remember what Adderall was actually used for to really sell your lie, but your mind was much too hazy to manage that level of thinking.

An amused scoff escaped Jimin’s lips, “really? What do you take it for?”

You almost groaned out loud as you went back to racking your brain. BPD? ASPD? IBD? Ugh, why did so many disorders exist in the first place?

“It doesn’t matter,” you finally huffed, giving up on the ability of your thoughts, “I don’t owe you my medical history anywa-”

Before you could finish your sentence, a pebble caught between the edge of your shoe and the dirt-packed ground, causing you to stumble. With how sluggish you felt, your face would have gotten some serious reshaping if it wasn’t for Jimin’s hand that kept you steady,

“The bottle didn’t have a prescription label with your name on it,” Jimin said, pulling you up, “you don’t have to lie to me.”

That made you groan, “if you’re going to tell me about the dangers of drugs and how I’m going to die alone I don’t want to hear it. I have no energy to deal with that right now.”

But to your surprise he didn’t say anything, even after the two of you had arrived at your front door. Instead, Jimin turned towards you, an unreadable expression evident on his face. Or maybe you were just too tired to make out the meaning of his facial features.

For a brief moment, his lips parted, hinting at an unspoken thought he might have wanted to express. But after a moment of silence, he ultimately closed his mouth, choosing instead to look away.

“Sleep tight, kitten,” he said finally, turning around and making his way back to the car without another glance, “I’ll see you on Monday.”

You watched him drive off, much too tired to think any more of the recent events. 

-

-

-

The next morning the shrill sound of your alarm was quick to spring to life, causing you to groan irritably. You slammed a pillow over your ear in a desperate attempt to block out the deafening noise, hoping that it would at least be enough to get you a few more seconds of sleep, but the soft barrier couldn’t do much to dampen the piercing screech. Frustrated, you threw the pillow off of you, letting it’s useless form fall to the floor. 

With the pillow gone, the first thing that hit you was the sunlight. It travelled into the room through your window, setting fire to your surroundings as if someone had accidentally brought the sun in here. It was too bright. Everything was too bright and too loud and too hot. 

Wishing for some semblance of peace, you finally turned towards your bedside table to pick up your phone and shut off the annoyingly loud alarm. It felt a little better, but it wasn’t enough. The sunlight was still so bright it hurt your eyes, while your body still felt heavy. And you were hungry too. So hungry you felt like you could eat a whole cow if you were given the chance. 

“God Adderall crash is such a pain,” you whined as you turned towards your bedside table and began rummaging through the drawers. You pushed past safety pins, hair ties, hairbrushes, some old papers…

Your eyebrows furrowed as you continued searching, but ultimately failed to produce a small white bottle that was your salvation at the moment. You just got a new bottle from Yoongi, where could it be?

You forced yourself to recount yesterday's events, ignoring your rumbling stomach and sore arms. The bottle had been in your pocket as you were leaving school, so it couldn’t still be there. Then you attended Taehyung’s party where you drank some beer and failed to find some drugs, so instead you had sex with Jimin-

You flopped back into your bed as the realisation came crashing down on you. Jimin. Park Jimin had taken your bottle and thrown it away. Your last tiny bottle of Adderall was now in a trash can in Taehyung’s house. 

Your body suddenly felt ten times heavier at the thought. The last time you were out of Adderall, you had to go through a week of fatigue, headaches, and an intense desire to eat everything in sight. You could not go through that again.

With newfound determination, you stumbled out of your room and down the stairs to enter the kitchen. Your goal had been to search the cabinets for some Adderall you might have stashed in the past for later, but the sight of the fridge had derailed that goal. You couldn’t help but grab yesterday’s leftover noodles and shovel them into your mouth as you simultaneously began searching the cabinets. You had to have at least one stash hidden somewhere in the house. 

Though the more you rummaged through the cabinets, the more frustrated you were becoming. They were filled with nothing but decade old spices and some granola bars you couldn’t help but eat alongside your noodles. 

Ultimately you huffed in frustration as you shut the last cabinet and collapsed onto the floor of the kitchen, still no Adderall in hand. Yoongi couldn’t contact you until the police were off his back and you didn’t have any other dealer you could go to. It had already taken you so long to find someone as trustworthy as him. What were you going to do?

Could you get your bottle back from Taehyung’s house? There’s no way that rich kid with a bunch of maids wouldn’t have already replaced all the trash cans in his house, and there’s no way you’d find your small white bottle in all that trash after a party. 

You munched on one of the granola bars as you tried to figure out some other solution to your problem, but with your mind going through withdrawal, it was pretty much useless. There was no hope.

As you sat tiredly on the kitchen floor, biting at your granola bar and finishing up the noodles, your gaze suddenly caught onto a flash of white near your fridge. Confused, you scooted closer to it.

Your eyes widened in excitement as you noticed a small white bottle wedged between the bottom of the fridge and the counter. You knew it. You knew there had to have been one bottle left.

But as you grabbed at the small container, it became apparent even to your unfocused mind that the bottle of Adderall was completely empty. Not even one pill for you to at least get through the day. 

Tired, still hungry, and mind foggier than ever, you just wanted to burrow back into your bed and sleep for the rest of the week. And you were about to do just that until the sound of the kitchen door slamming shut behind you caused you to flinch. 

“Y/N?”

The mind that was struggling to form even one thought suddenly froze altogether at the familiar voice. Eyes wide and bottle in hand, you slowly turned to find your father standing near the kitchen’s doorway. There was a white plastic shopping bag hanging from his hand as he first scanned your form on the kitchen floor, the granola bar wrappers on the dining table…

And then the empty bottle of Adderall in your hand.

Crap.

-

-

-

When Jimin thought of therapy, the first thing that usually came to mind was a minimalist living room with two neutral-coloured sofas, a matching coffee table, and an intrusive woman that was hell bent on finding out ‘how he feels.’

The sofas and coffee table were definitely no stereotype, confirmed by the beige couch he was sitting on now and the glass coffee table standing right before him. 

The intrusive woman, on the other hand, remained yet to be seen. 

Jimin’s gaze jumped around the room anxiously as his arms leaned against his knees, taking in the tall bookshelf that he assumed was filled with self help books, an abstract painting filled with strokes of blue, black, and white, and a window displaying the vast view of the city’s many buildings. 

He had been so preoccupied with scanning the window that the sudden sound of the door opening made him flinch. His head snapped towards the door behind him, revealing a woman in her late twenties walking into the room. She was dressed professionally, with a simple white blouse tucked into black dress pants, while her straight brown hair flowed freely beneath her shoulders. 

“Hello Jimin,” she greeted with a smile when she noticed his seated form, “you’re early. That’s good.”

Jimin greeted her back politely as he watched her take a seat on the identical sofa in front of him. Her sudden entrance had only increased the anxiety he felt towards the fact that he couldn’t see the door. If someone else were to walk through it quietly enough, he wouldn’t even know. Anyone could just sneak up on him just like that…

“I’m sorry,” he finally spoke up, unable to contain his anxiety much more, “could we- um, switch seats?”

Instead of confusion, there was only understanding apparent on the woman’s face, “of course.”

He thanked her as they changed seats. With both the window and the door in his sights he felt a little less anxious. 

Once everything had been settled, the woman gave him a warm smile, “my name is Lauren, and I will be your therapist for the duration of your sessions.”

“How long is this going to take?” Jimin couldn’t help but ask. He didn’t want to be rude, he knew Lauren was only doing her job, but for some reason her presence made him anxious. He felt like she could see through him and reveal every part of himself he’d much rather stay hidden. 

“This, as well as your future sessions, will be around fifty to sixty minutes long. During this time, we will be focusing on your feelings in reaction to the traumatic event, but we won’t be focusing on that too much today since I’ll be doing most of the talking.”

Lauren held up a binder that was sitting on her lap,“I’ll have your treatment manual in my lap and will be referring to it throughout our sessions to ensure I deliver the psychotherapy as it was prescribed. Please don’t hesitate to ask questions as the session unfolds.”

Jimin simply nodded, eyeing the beige pendulum wall clock that had barely moved since she had walked into the room. Seeing as only a minute or two had gone by, he knew this was going to be the longest hour of his life. 

Oblivious to his apprehension, Lauren began to give him an overview of what would normally go on in their sessions before she explained the outline of their current session. It wasn’t until she had moved onto a different topic when Jimin’s straying attention was caught once again. 

“According to your CAPS score, you met diagnostic criteria for PTSD, which is a mental health condition that often develops after experiencing a distressing event. PTSD is characterised by three clusters of symptoms: re-experiencing, avoidance and numbing, and hyperarousal. Could you give me some examples of symptoms you experience that would fall under any of these clusters?

There was a moment of silence as Jimin shifted uncomfortably, “I get frequent nightmares- that would fall under re-experiencing. And last night, for a moment, I thought I was back in my childhood room and my dad was banging against the door. Sort of like a mini flashback.”

Lauren nodded, encouraging him to continue.

“For avoidance and numbing… I try to avoid thinking or talking about what happened altogether. I also kind of feel detached from others, but I couldn’t really explain that in detail even if you asked me to.”

“As for hyperarousal symptoms…” Jimin paused, “Taehyung always tells me I keep my guard up a lot. I’ve also noticed that small things tend to startle me as well.”

Lauren nodded, “re-experiencing symptoms, like your nightmares, are related to hyperarousal symptoms, like your hypervigilance. Both of these symptoms usually elicit a desire to either avoid, become numb, or both. Ironically, trying to avoid or numb your feelings ends up maintaining, or even increasing, your PTSD symptoms. Which is why the more you avoid or numb, the worse your condition gets. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah, I guess,” he responded, eyeing the clock once again as her words flew over his head..

“Everyone has existing beliefs that encompass how they see themselves, others and the world. When these beliefs are challenged by things like traumatic events, people respond in different ways. Some might change their perception of the event to make sense of it and essentially blend it into their existing beliefs. This is a process called ‘assimilation.’ Another reaction can involve a process called ‘overaccommodation,’ which involves an individual drastically changing their entire belief system to make the traumatic event fit. Trauma usually affects various areas of beliefs, including safety, trust, power or control, esteem, and intimacy.”

“Another important thing to note is that if someone already had negative beliefs about these aspects before the traumatic event, the event could further reinforce those negative beliefs. Make sense?”

Jimin simply nodded, not entirely understanding much of what she was saying; he just wanted the session to be over with faster. It felt like his brain was going to explode with all the new information that was being thrown at him and his distaste only grew when she asked him to describe his upbringing. 

Even though he knew talking was all therapy was about, he really didn’t want to talk about his crappy past. He’s done a great job of pretending it didn’t exist up until now. 

“My dad did drugs all throughout my life,” Jimin forced himself to say, reminding himself that he had to at least give this thing a try if he wanted to get better, “ they were really hard ones too. They would make him have these hallucinations where he was convinced my mom was cheating on him, or that she and I were planning his downfall or something.”

“Because of that he used to beat my mom a lot, so badly she’d end up in the hospital sometimes. He tried to beat me too, to ‘teach me a lesson,’ but my mom would always protect me by diverting his attention onto her. She did that for the first seven years of my life before she decided that she’d had enough of being my human shield and ran away. My dad’s drug use got ten times worse after that, and with no one to stop him, he began beating me instead.”

Jimin’s gaze dropped to his fidgety hands, “I wonder if my mom left because she had gotten sick of raising me as well. I guess I was a little hyper for my age, maybe if I had been a more quiet and obedient kid she would’ve taken me with her when she left.”

He noticed Lauren write something down in her binder, but decided not to voice his curiosity. When she finished, she looked up at him with sympathy evident in her eyes. 

“I’m sorry you had to go through that Jimin, you didn’t deserve what your father did to you all those years.”

Jimin merely shrugged, though his gaze wouldn’t meet hers. 

“Many people experience traumatic events in their lives, but not everyone develops chronic PTSD symptoms. This is because of a concept commonly known as ‘stuck points.’ Stuck points refer to certain ways of thinking about trauma and about oneself, others, and the world that act as barriers to healing and moving forward. These patterns of thought basically keep a person ‘stuck’ in their distress and contribute to the persistence of PTSD symptoms. This is why the main goal of these therapy sessions will be to figure out what prevented your recovery.”

“But in order to achieve this goal, we’ll have to explore your trauma. Could you provide a five minute account of the traumatic event you experienced?”

That made Jimin scoff, “I got beat up several times a month for years. How am I supposed to pick one?”

“Which of those events do you think about the most? Which event do you dislike thinking about the most? Remember it doesn’t need to be detailed, just a brief overview of what happened.”

Jimin’s dread intensified as his restlessness only increased. But the session was close to ending soon. The faster he got this over with, the faster he could leave. 

“I get the most nightmares about the night my dad died,” he recounted emotionlessly, the pace of his words quickening, “I was in my bedroom with my girlfriend when my dad suddenly started banging against the door. I let him in, but realised he was hallucinating some insane story which made him hurt my girlfriend. I ended up taking a bat to his head which eventually killed him.”

“You did a great job sharing that with me,” she praised, “how do you feel after sharing that memory?”

“Like I want to leave,” he said honestly. 

Instead of taking offence, Lauren simply nodded in understanding. 

“‘Natural’ emotions are feelings that are proportionate reactions to experiences that have occurred. For example, if we’re placed in a dangerous situation, it’s natural to feel fear. The diminishing course of these emotions means that allowing ourselves to feel these natural emotions will eventually cause them to naturally dissipate. ‘Manufactured’ emotions, on the other hand, are emotions that we contribute in making through the frequency of certain thoughts. For example, if a person tells himself he’s ugly again and again, he will likely feel more and more anger towards himself. This is why another goal of therapy will be to figure out how you have been manufacturing emotions that are unhelpful to you.”

“So to summarise, the three major goals of therapy will be to, one, remember and accept what happened by not avoiding those memories and associated feelings. Two, to allow yourself to feel your natural emotions so that the memory can be put away without such strong feelings still attached. And, three, to balance beliefs that had been disrupted or reinforced so that you can stop manufacturing unhelpful emotions.”

The mention of ‘feeling his emotions’ made Jimin want to crawl out of his own skin. 

Lauren then put up a strong case for how important it would be for Jimin to do the out-of-session practice she’d be assigning him at the end of every session, emphasising that not doing those assignments would mean that Jimin would only be spending 1-2 out of 168 hours a week on his recovery, and that doing the assignments would help him reduce his inclination towards avoidance. His nods felt automatic as his gaze stayed fixed to the wall clock, urging its hands to move faster. Recounting his past had left him jittery and all he wanted to do now was lock himself in his room, away from the world and especially away from the therapy that he was disliking more and more every minute. 

But seemingly satisfied with his response, Lauren handed him a worksheet anyway, “your first assignment will be to write an Impact Statement about the meaning of the event you recounted today. This is not a trauma account. Rather, it’s simply designed to get behind the meaning of the event in your life and how it impacted your belief systems.”

He took a look at the worksheet, seeing that it only reiterated what Lauren had said to write in more detail, before hesitantly taking it from her outstretched hand. The two of them then exchanged a few pleasantries as he rushed through the doorway. 

Jimin couldn’t seem to run out of that place fast enough. 

-

-

-

Your muscles stayed frozen as your father continued to stand in the doorway of the kitchen, glare directed towards the white bottle in your hand. You couldn’t believe you had completely forgotten that he was coming home today, your mind too occupied with finding a solution to your current Adderall predicament, and now here he was catching you in the kitchen with an empty bottle of Adderall in your hand. 

You were so screwed.

Your father finally walked deeper into the kitchen before snatching the bottle from your fingers and inspecting it thoroughly.

“Is this what I think it is?”

“Listen dad, I completely forgot you were coming home tod-”

“We had a deal, Y/N,” he interrupted, crossing his arms, “what do you have to say for yourself?”

You pursed your lips, unable to put up any defence. He seemed to study your form in silence as you pushed yourself off the floor and opted to lean against the dining table instead, still much too tired to even stand on your own. Whatever he saw must have been pathetic enough for him to simply sigh instead of scold your ears off. 

“Forget it,” he huffed before turning around and making his way towards the porch. 

“Come on, I brought some food.”

-

-

“God, you know I hate the smell of weed dad,” you whined, waving a hand under your nose like it would do anything to dampen the putrid smell. 

The two of you sat on the porch overlooking the vast acres of land that surrounded your house comfortably, making use of the white plastic table and chairs that were at least a decade old. Usually you would appreciate the beauty of the view, with its luscious green grass, bright blue sky, and fresh airy breeze that were completely absent in the city. 

Today though you were miserable with withdrawal, so the green grass and blue sky were much too bright for your eyes, and the fresh air was obscured by the smoke coming out of the fat blunt between your father’s fingers. 

“I already told you the smell goes away after a few minutes,” your dad responded, “here, take some. It’ll help you feel less crappy during your Adderall Crash.”

Normally you would decline. You weren’t a fan of smoking, even if it was weed, since it always made you cough your lungs out. But with your current Adderall withdrawal and the prospect of having to feel this way for the next week looming over your head, you uncharacteristically accepted your father’s blunt before taking a long drag of the thing. 

Just like always, you had to cough it out for a moment.

“Ah, I feel like I’ve failed you as a father for not teaching you how to smoke properly.”

“Most fathers wouldn’t let their kids near this stuff in the first place,” you deadpanned. 

Your father was much too high at that point to take any offence to that and instead laughed. 

“So,” you began, wanting to change the subject, “how was work?”

He took a moment to answer, “work’s work. I drive a giant truck here and then I drive a giant truck there. Drove a little farther away than usual yesterday. The view was incredible, like something straight out of Narnia”

You nodded, beginning to feel your mind and body relax from the drag you had taken earlier. You watched your father open the white plastic bag and bring out some takeout, announcing that he had gotten it on his way back home. He handed you a burger and fries as he brought out one for himself.

“So, care to explain to me why I found you on the floor of the kitchen with an empty bottle of Adderall in your hand?” Your father asked, taking a bite out of his burger. 

You threw a few fries into your mouth, chewing on the crunchy exterior while the inner softness melted on your tongue. Maybe weed wasn’t your thing, but even you had to admit that eating when high on the stuff was just another experience in itself. It had the power to turn even the worst fast food into the most delicious, five-star food known to man. 

“I’m out of Addy,” you finally admitted.

“Addy?”

“Adderall.”

“Right,” your father said, “I can’t keep up with the slang you kids keep inventing nowadays. But anyways, I figured that much. I meant to ask why?”

“I’m sorry dad, I know I promised that I’d get some for your friend since he’s been asking for it, but my dealer had to go in hiding because the police had been tipped off about him and now I don’t have any for myself much less your friend.”

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” your dad shrugged, not as annoyed by it as earlier. You weren’t sure whether it was because he’d gotten over it or because he was high. 

It was probably the latter.

“You wouldn’t happen to know anyone that could get some for me would you?” You asked hopefully, though the weed was making you feel a lot less concerned about it at the moment. 

Unfortunately your dad just shook his head, “my plug doesn’t really deal the small stuff like Adderall. I can give you some Ritalin though? I have a prescription for it for my job. I heard it’s basically the same thing.”

“I’ve heard the same,” you thought for a moment. Honestly you were desperate for anything at this point, “I’ll take it then. Thanks.”

“No problem, sweetheart.”

The two of you sat in silence for a moment, your relaxed minds taking in the scenery before you. Unlike earlier, you were starting to enjoy the sight of the fields, with its soft green grass and glorious sky. The soft breeze felt fresh against your skin as you continued to bite into your delicious burger. 

“By the way, what happened to your car? Did you take it to the mechanic or something?” Your dad asked absentmindedly, “I didn’t see it in the driveway.”

“What? Are you sure?” You asked as your eyebrows furrowed. Your car should’ve been parked in the driveway since the party last ni-

You suddenly stumbled to your feet, grabbing onto the railing when you felt a wave of dizziness hit your head. You hadn’t driven your car back home last night, Jimin did. But he had left your house driving a car too. That meant…

A gasp slipped from your lips as you rounded a corner, scanning the empty driveway now standing before you. Aside from your dad’s enormous truck, your black compact Toyota was nowhere in sight. 

“He stole my car,” you realised incredulously. 

That bastard stole your car.

-

-

-

“Jeez Y/N calm down, you’re shaking the whole table,” Namjoon whispered, eyeing the teacher as she continued to lecture the class.

You were seated in your last period classroom, practically counting down the seconds as you waited for the bell to finally dismiss the absolute nightmare of a day you were having. When you had asked your dad for some Ritalin, you had expected him to hand you Ritalin. Whatever he had actually given you had to be far from it though, because there was no way anyone would subject themselves to what you were going through. 

Since the morning you’ve felt like a ticking time bomb, too much energy packed into a single human being. You couldn’t stop moving, which was evident in your persistently shaking leg and constantly fidgeting fingers. Technically you did manage to focus in class, but it had taken a lot more energy than you usually needed to compared to when you were on Adderall. 

At this point, you were just waiting for the awful effects to wear off, but you didn’t know whether your father had given you the extended-release form or the immediate-release form. You hoped it was the latter because you could not endure this for another 7 hours. 

“Are you okay, Y/N?” Namjoon asked, laying a hand on your finger. You hadn’t even realised you had started tapping against your desk anxiously. 

“God, I’m so jittery right now,” you admitted, willing time to go faster, “I shouldn’t have taken that Ritalin.”

Namjoon’s gaze narrowed as he let out a frustrated breath, “of course it’s the drugs. Why should I even bother thinking otherwise at this point?”

Choosing to ignore the comment, you tried to calm your shaky hands to no avail. As if you weren’t anxious enough, now Namjoon’s frustrated, and slightly worried, gaze drilled into the side of your head. 

Thankfully, the sound of the bell reverberated around the classroom a few minutes later, signifying the end of the period. The second the teacher dismissed you all with a wave of her hand, you were out the door, ignoring Namjoon’s inquiries about where you were going. You may have been the most energetic you’ve ever been in the past few years, but you still hadn’t forgotten that there was something important you needed to do. 

So you pushed past the hundreds of students beginning to crowd the hallway, searching through a sea of maroon and dark grey uniforms for a certain orange-haired menace. You’d seen him in your second period, taking advantage of his seat that was directly behind you by annoying you to no extent throughout the class. Then the coward had left class 5 minutes early so that he didn’t have to face your wrath after the bell rang. 

Your only option now was to search for him after school, which you did in the cafeteria, gymnasium, and a bunch of classrooms, but he was nowhere in sight. You were even debating checking out the principal's office in case the idiot had gotten himself detention. 

Fortunately you didn’t need to make a fool of yourself in front of any school faculty when you turned into a relatively deserted hallway and noticed a flash of orange. 

You found Jimin standing with his back towards a row of lockers, speaking casually with a frustrated-looking Taehyung. He looked really angry, though you weren’t close enough to hear what they were talking about. Despite his friend’s evident irritation, Jimin seemed completely nonchalant. The first few buttons of his uniform had been undone, revealing a sliver of his toned collarbone while his tie hung loosely from his neck. 

But you pushed Jimin’s good looks and Taehyung’s frustration aside, opting instead to march up to the man you’ve been searching for. 

When you were close enough, his gaze finally noticed your form, eyebrows raising for a moment before a smirk overtook his features. 

“Well, look what we have here. What’s wrong, ki-”

But you had no desire to entertain the jerk for any longer than you needed to. Instead, you grabbed his collar, surprising Taehyung who hadn’t even realised you were there, and dragged him through the hallway before entering the school’s only gender neutral bathroom. The door slammed shut behind you as you focused your glare onto him. 

Jimin merely chuckled.

“If you wanted round two so badly, you only had to ask, kitten.”

Maybe it was the Ritalin that was fueling your irritation, because the sound of that nickname had you a lot more annoyed than usual. 

“My car.”

Jimin leaned against the bathroom wall, crossing his arms as he scanned your form. 

“Come again?”

“You stole my car,” you spat, trying to contain your annoyance. You felt like you had so much energy, mixed with anger that was a dangerous combination.

“Your car,” he said finally, a hint of amusement in his voice, “I have it, yes.”

His nonchalance wasn’t helping either. 

“Just because you drove me home that night, doesn’t mean you have permission to steal my car. You think you get to have something like that just for being a decent human being? I could’ve called a cab if I wanted to you know-”

You paused when you noticed his smile widen, clearly amused by your anger. This jerk…

“I can call the police for this, Park Jimin. Just because you gave me a good time once doesn’t mean I’ll feel guilty for having you arrested for taking my car. Have fun in jail you as-”

“I didn’t take your car because I wanted it,” Jimin interrupted, pushing himself off the wall before making his way towards you. It was only then when you realised that he wasn’t wearing his blazer, only the standard white button up that struggled to hide his toned body. 

“I took your car,” he continued, stride ending right in front of you, “because I wanted you.”

That made you scoff.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

You hated the way his proximity made it so much easier for your gaze to travel down his neck and linger at his collarbone. It was bringing back memories from the party, so much so that you could practically feel his plush lips on your skin as you stared at him now. The ghost of his hand rubbing circles into your waist also did not go unnoticed by you. 

“It means that I wanted to see you again,” he reiterated, his own gaze dropping to your lips, as if he were having the same thoughts. 

You watched his hand disappear into his pocket and return with your car keys before placing them in your hand.

“Your car’s in the parking lot,” he said in a low voice, still focused on your lips, “you can go to it right now.”

But you felt stuck under his gaze, unable to rip your own away from the movement of his plump lips as he spoke. You remembered the feeling of them on your lips, how good it felt when they had brushed against the bottom lip roughly.

Seeing that you weren’t moving, Jimin let his arms trap you against the door, bringing his face closer to yours as he whispered, “or you could stay here with me. Would you like that, kitten? To stay here with me and see what happens?”

At this point, he was so close you could feel the heat from his body on yours. The images from that night were fueling your lust. There was no doubt that that night had been amazing, and now here Jimin was giving you a chance at feeling that all over again. 

Hesitantly, your fingers hovered just above his shoulders before you let them slowly travel down to his chest. You watched his muscles tense under your touch, an oddly vulnerable reaction from a guy like him.

You shouldn’t…

You really shouldn’t…

But why? Because Jimin is a prick that you can barely stand? Because the thought of giving him exactly what he wants makes you want to put yourself in timeout? He stole your car for god’s sake. He annoyed you during class.

But he’s so hot. 

How could you be expected to ignore the sharp lines of his jaw? The muscled expanse of his strong shoulders and chest? The deep resonance of his voice? You can’t. Not when all of it is standing right in front of you, shooting you with a gaze that could light you on fire. 

It’s not like you’re agreeing to date, you thought. Sex is just sex, and you’re sure Jimin has it with a bunch of other girls all the time. It would barely mean anything to him. It would definitely mean nothing to you. 

You felt your hand continue to travel up his skin until it stopped at his neck, waiting for you to make another move. You probably should’ve pushed him away. Told him you weren’t that easy. 

But instead your fingers wrapped around his already loosened tie and slowly pulled him closer until his nose was barely an inch away from yours. The words that left your mouth next had a hint of a whisper in them. 

“You’re a jerk, Park Jimin.”

That was the closest to a ‘yes’ he was going to get from you. You had to keep some semblance of dignity. The man stole your car after all. 

The bathroom reverberated slightly at the sound of a click as Jimin locked the door behind you before you pulled him closer, allowing him to finally catch your lips with his. 

Your stomach burst at the feeling of his plump lips gliding against yours in a heated frenzy, one hand holding your cheek steady as the force of his kiss pushed you against the bathroom door. It was clear that the Jimin before you today was eager and impatient, unlike the Jimin that had taken his time that night at the party.

Right now, you couldn’t help but like it.

The hand holding your jaw pulled your face closer to his, deepening the kiss, while his other hand travelled down, brushing delicately against your neck, before grabbing at your waist. In that moment, Jimin’s tongue slipped into your mouth, exploring the space with a hunger that only rattled the butterflies flying wildly in your stomach. You felt him trace the inner lining of your lips, caressing your tongue- the action causing you to yelp unexpectedly in his mouth. As surprising as it was, you wanted him to do it again. 

Jimin pressed you against the door once again, the rough surface hard against your back, but this time all you could do was pull him into you more, encouraging him to continue dragging his tongue across your mouth. You basked in the heat of his chest so close to yours, the feeling of his hand on your waist, the sensation of his tongue on yours. You couldn’t seem to get enough. He knew exactly what to do and how to do it. Every passing second had you regretting your decision less and less, no matter how annoyed you still were at him. 

Distantly, you felt his middle finger rubbing circles into your waist. 

Jimin broke the kiss for a moment, filling the bathroom with heavy pants as the two of you were allowed to catch your breaths. Your fingers hovered over the buttons of his dress shirt, desperate to start opening them for the view you knew wouldn’t disappoint. 

Jimin, clearly noticing your impatience, let a breathy laugh escape his lips, “relax, kitten. I’ll have you moaning my name like a broken record soon enough.”

That had you scowling, which of course only seemed to amuse Jimin even more. You huffed, knowing your next words would come out weakly before they even left your lips. 

“We’ll see about that.”

-

-

-

“You were such a jerk for that.”

You faced the bathroom’s mirror as you finished adjusting your uniform so that it at least partly resembled itself before you had walked into the bathroom. Jimin had, unfortunately, succeeded in his earlier promise and more, which had you too embarrassed to turn around and face said man who you knew was just a few steps behind you. He'd practically taken every ounce of dignity you had left, and you had given it to him on a silver platter.

If only dignity felt as good as him. 

As if Jimin had heard your thoughts, he replied, “I made it worth your while, didn’t I?”

You could see him in the corner of the mirror, a sly smile plastered over his face as he peered at you through the mirror the same way you were watching him. It didn’t occur to you until now just how good his face would look with a soap dispenser thrown at it. 

To your surprise, he didn’t leave right after he had fixed up his uniform. Instead, he walked over to you before slightly pressing into you, the heat from his chest spreading to your clothed back as he leaned his arms on the sink. You could feel his breath on your neck as his lips brushed against your ear. 

“But let’s make one thing clear, kitten,” he breathed as the words caught your attention, his focus intense even though he was still holding your gaze through the mirror.

“The next time you want to go a round, you’ll have to ask for it. No ambiguous sex bathrooms or calling me a jerk to imply you want some. Just you. Asking me. Using your big girl words.”

“Only in your dreams will I want this again, Park Jimin,” you shot back so quickly you didn’t even have time to wonder what the hell ‘sex bathroom’ was supposed to mean. The fact that he thought there was going to be a next time was laughable. 

You simply got caught up in him and his looks this time. That’s all. This was not going to be a regular thing. You’d never let that happen. 

But Jimin gave you a knowing look, throwing your earlier words back at you, “we’ll see.”

You watched him reach in front of you, grabbing a few paper towels from the dispenser, before drying the hands he had just washed with them and then throwing them in the trash. Once that was done he finally stepped away from you, walking towards the door of the bathroom. 

He glanced at your state momentarily before opening it, “until next time.”

And, just like that, he was gone.

“Jerk,” you muttered, the word starting to gain a familiar spot on your tongue. 

After fixing yourself in the mirror one last time you walked out of the bathroom as well. To your surprise, Namjoon immediately ran up to you not a moment later. 

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” he panted, readjusting the strap of his backpack on his shoulder. But then his gaze shifted to behind you, seemingly noticing where you had come from, “why’d you use that bathroom? The only time people use it is for sex, you know that right?”

You turned to look back at the bathroom’s door, only now realising what ‘sex bathroom’ probably meant. Did Jimin think you had brought him in there on purpose? As some kind of ambiguous way of saying you wanted sex?

Oblivious to your thoughts, Namjoon ignored your silence, “whatever. Anyways I came here to tell you that you’re coming home with me today.”

That had you snapping back towards him, “what? No, I just want to go home and sleep off this Ritalin.”

Namjoon was shaking his head before you had even finished the sentence.

“Nope, you’re coming home with me and we’re finishing this math assignment together. Come on.”

“Wha-” He grabbed your arm before you could whine anymore and began dragging you behind him.

“Namjoon!”

-

-

-

“Where have you been?” Taehyung asked frustratedly as he watched his best friend make his way towards him. He had no clue where you had dragged him off, and honestly? He was too mad to care.

Jimin, on the other hand, seemed perfectly untroubled, ignoring Taehyung’s furrowed eyebrows and crossed arms to instead open up his locker. The question floated aimlessly in the deserted hallway for a moment before he huffed loudly.

“Don’t you have anything to say?”

Taehyung’s eyes widened as Jimin brought a textbook out of his locker, closed it, and then began walking towards the school’s exit. 

“Dude?!” He huffed incredulously, trailing Jimin from behind, “I’m talking to you!”

“And I’m ignoring you,” Jimin deadpanned. Taehyung felt himself take several steadying breaths to calm himself down, trying for a less aggressive approach.

“We were having a conversation before.”

“No, you were being tenacious. And I was trying to ignore you.”

“You’re not fine, Jimin!” Taehyung suddenly exploded, secretly thankful that the hallway was deserted, “you think I can’t see it? You think I’ve been blind these past few months?”

That had Jimin turning around, eyebrows furrowed, “what are you talking about?”

“Don’t act oblivious,” Taehyung spoke sharply, “you haven’t been sleeping properly. You’ve been pushing me away. You haven’t been okay for months- wait, no. Who am I kidding, you haven’t been okay for the past 3 years. But it’s never been this bad, Jimin. It’s been getting wor-”

“Okay,” Jimin interrupted, holding up a hand, “where is this coming from? I’ve been sleeping fi-”

“I heard you that night. At the party.”

“Wha-”

“When you came back from dropping Y/N off,” Taehyung admitted, eyes softening, “I could hear the nightmares, all of them. It’s never been this bad, Jimin.”

Jimin froze, eyes wide for a moment before he forced out a hesitant laugh, “you sure it was a nightmare? Because nightmares aren’t the only kinds of dreams that can have someone panting li-”

“Stop it,” Taehyung snapped, his voice nearing anger now, “stop using that mask on me. You can be carefree and flirty with anyone else, but we’re best friends. I know you better than that. Don’t insult me.”

Jimin let out a frustrated breath, very much tired of this conversation, “then what do you want, Taehyung?”

“What do I want? I want you to open up to me. Things have been getting worse, and yet the worse they get the more you shut me out. Just talk to me, man. Get some stuff off your chest. You can trust me. You know I’m not one to spill secrets to others.”

“I’m fine, Taehyung.”

“No, you’re not.”

Jimin ran a hand through his hair frustratedly. Taehyung has always cared about him so much, too much, for so many years. He gave Jimin a place to stay every time his dad kicked him out of the house. He never judged him for the bruises and scars littering his skin. He’s always made himself available for Jimin whenever he needed to vent about how crappy his life truly was. 

And he’s continued to help Jimin, even after his father died-

No.

After Jimin murdered him. 

Taehyung, of course, knows what went down that night. Maybe not every exact detail, because Jimin had just barely managed to tell him the watered down version of the story before he was a shaking heap of laboured breaths on the floor. But Jimin knew. He knew the look Taehyung had given him after hearing the story. 

Taehyung had judged Jimin. 

Taehyung had seen Jimin for who he really was that day. 

A murderer. A cold-hearted killer that had murdered his own father like it was nothing.

And yet, still, he’s been determined to stay by Jimin’s side. He’s always cared for him despite what his true thoughts of Jimin were. Taehyung’s heart was too big. And Jimin knew he was too undeserving of it. 

“As if the therapy wasn’t enough,” he mumbled, pushing the thoughts out of his mind. It was harder to push the mixed emotions starting to strain his chest.

Taehyung rolled his eyes, “as if you’re actually going to that.”

But Jimin’s silence had Taehyung’s eyes widening suddenly.

“Wait… You actually went?”

Hiding his hands in his pocket, Jimin nodded, feeling kind of vulnerable admitting that out loud. But he might as well let Taehyung know he was taking it seriously considering his parents were the only reason he could even afford to think about therapy. 

To his surprise, a wide grin suddenly replaced Taehyung’s prior frown. He rested a hand on Jimin’s shoulder, “that’s great, dude! I’m really proud of you, seriously. I’m sure it’ll really help.”

Jimin couldn’t meet his eyes.

He hoped Taehyung was right. 

Next Chapter...

Hi just wanted to lyk that your writing is really really good and enjoyable and i actually do think that you are really talented, which makes me really excited to see how your writing style will evolve as you keep posting new pieces.

One thing I want to make sure you know is that the fact that you really tried to understand your subject better (I'm referring to "the sex contract") actually shows and it's smth that I for one, but I can guess other readers as well, enjoy a looot !

So yeah. Keep up the good work and be happy ! I'm waiting for the next chap :)

Stopp I'm literally blushing rn, thank you so much T-T I definitely researched a ton before starting this story and I'm glad it shows and you're enjoying it! While writing the second chapter of TSC, I was a little worried that the therapy scene would bore you guys, but I just couldn't help but make it so detailed anyway lmao

I'll try not to take too long to write the next chapter, but with school I can never promise anything :')