SCHOOL F*CKING SUCKS! | YANDERE!BTS

BREAD IN MY MOUTH, I'M FUCKING LATE!

WARNINGS. none!

🖇

the first time jimin sees you today is when you're running late to class.

he walks in the empty halls with a neat pile of quizzes resting in his palms, graded and ready to be delivered. the classrooms to his left are filled with students listening to their teachers babble on and on about the boring lesson, leaving the halls for jimin and jimin alone. maybe that's why your quick stomps echo so loudly behind him, or why he's confused enough to turn around and catch sight of your stumbling state just before the crash.

technically, the first time jimin sees you today is when you trip on one of your undone shoelaces and come slamming into his chest, violenting knocking his chin with your forehead.

the papers go flying (and so do his glasses). one by one, after drifting in the air for a solid second or two, the quizzes land on the ground with bold and unpleasant pen marks facing the ceiling. student council president jimin thinks that he needs to give a lecture about the code of honor and privacy concerns if you happen to catch sight of jihoon's score of 32. but at the moment, he's more worried about his uniform pants getting dirty from the fall, his painfully sore chin, and a girl who's on top of him, chest-to-chest.

"hey," he says with a stern tone before getting a good (correction: hazy) look at the clumsy student (uh, where did his glasses land?), "running in the halls is strictly...prohi... bited..."

there's a pause in his sentence.

then, a hint of pink rushes up his neck.

"_____?!"

you're no clumsy student; you're the cute class president of mrs. yoo's room.

he almost doesn't recognize you, not because his bare vision is a little blurry, but because it's so unlike you to be like... this: blazer undone, hair a mess, backpack completely unzipped with folders hanging on for dear life.

and you're late. you're never late, always arriving at least thirty minutes before class starts. his perplexity is disrupted when he sees your thighs laying between his legs. he's unable to tear his eyes away from the hem of your skirt that's ridden up a few inches.

"oh my god!"

your exclaim makes him snap his head to your flustered face. you cry out apology after apology, hastily getting up on your knees from the more than awkward position, but a whimper comes out of your mouth after the fourth 'sorry'.

"a-are you okay, _____?" concern paints his features as he assumes that your legs are hurt from the brutal fall.

despite the pain in your thighs, you nod as a response. then, after swiping at his glasses on the floor to hand them over to him, you quickly crawl away and grab the papers on the floor (with your eyes aimed away from the numbers; honor code, remember?). "i'm so sorry, jimin," you repeat for the umpteenth time, "i was just-- i was just in a rush and-- i'm sorry, i shouldn't be explaining, i'm probably keeping you from something--!"

"it's alright, _____, you don't need to worry about it."

you cease your rambling when you see the smile etching his pretty lips. he's looks so put together with his neat uniform, neater chestnut hair, dark rimmed circle glasses that bear no marks at all even after you throttled into him at full speed. this is the classmate you admire; the one who introduced you to the student council, the one who helped you through the projects he assigned. he barely voices his praise for your hard work, but that comforting smile of his never fails to reassure you in all kinds of ways.

until it morphs into a pout. "but you know better than to run in the halls."

you bite your lip as your eyes cast down. "i'm sorry, jimin..." god, out of all the people in the building, jimin had to be the one to see you like this. oh, how painful this pitiful punch in the gut is. and how embarrassing it feels.

by the time you face him again, he's already got the remaining papers in his hand. you hand him your stack before he helps you stand with a gentle pull. "so," he begins with an endearing tilt of his head, "why are you so late?"

it's a simple question, really; much more simple than any physics problem you've ever worked. so why does it make you freeze? why does it make your hands all clammy, make your feet fidget and stutter, make your eyes dart from side to side? "oh... i just.. overslept."

"overslept?"

you aren't lying. you snoozed through your alarm this morning, mind still a mess and body sore all over.

even if you aren't lying, you feel so... shitty. you're not being completely honest with him like you usually are during council meetings and advice sessions, because you know that if jimin were to know the whole truth, he'd surely be much more than disappointed in you, and you don't know if you can take that. scratch that, you know you wouldn't be able to tolerate it. you've worked so hard to be in jimin's favor in hopes of having a settled position in the council. you can't bear to lose that spot. so even if the guilty feeling makes your chest tighten with shame, you force a small nod. "yes..."

he hums, doesn't say that he knows you're keeping the truth from the way you're unable to meet his puppy gaze. he doesn't say it because he thinks it's so cute that you're such a bad liar.

"i'm sorry," you apologize, as if repeating it would make you feel any better, "i know it's my responsibility to get to class on time, but," you finally look up at him, "if you could please understand, then i'll be very grateful. and please, let me help you with the papers; it's my fault that you haven't delivered them yet."

jimin thinks you're so cute without even trying. with your head held high and your eyes now determined to prove yourself better, you're so cute, too cute that it almost makes him giggle, but he suppresses the glee with a smile that turns his eyes into happy crescents. "i understand, _____. we can walk together, since we're both headed to your homeroom. but honestly, i think the one thing you need to worry about is an explanation to mrs. yoo."

although you cringe at the thought of how ugly this one unexcused tardy will look like on your perfect record, jimin's right. the idea of describing your lame excuse to your teacher, in front of the whole class, in front of student council leader park jimin, in front of rich, class clown kim taehyung (that motherfucker), has you wanting to flee as far away as you can, away from this building that once gave you meaning, and now gives you nightmares.

jimin watches the knobs turning in your brain before he looks up in thought. he hands you the quizzes, telling you to hold them for a second as he reaches for a sticky note and pen in his pocket (so like him to keep supplies on himself at all times).

"... jimin? what are you writing?"

he grins at you while he scribbles, nose scrunching and words playful. "something that will get you out of being counted tardy."