Teach Her ✔️

Blackmail Material

When you get home, you throw yourself on your bed and scream at the top of your lungs into your pillow. You feel bad for taking your anger out on your loyal sleeping companion, but you don't have another outlet for all of the emotions bubbling up inside of you.
Your mom's head peeks in the door to check on you, but you simply wave a hand at her without lifting your face.
You hope you accidentally suffocate yourself.
How can someone be so attractive and irritating at the same time? He makes you want to attack his perfect mouth with your own as you simultaneously choke the life out of him. Those stupid cute round cheeks and that idiotically perfect jawline and just...everything.
Park Jimin.
Everything about his is so attractive except for when he opens his mouth.
That's when the murder plans and strangulation come into play.
That's when you want to kill him.
You continue to lay there with your face stuffed in a pillow as you think hard about what you should do. Maybe you can ask to transfer classes. Maybe you should transfer schools.
Maybe you should ask Taehyung for some university blackmail to keep the man off of your back for the rest of the year. He had to have done something stupid in college, especially if he was a friend of your brother's. Some kind of drunken video that he regrets so much that he'll cut you some slack and not watch you like a hawk during class, waiting for you to screw something up.
If things continue on like the past two days have, you'll never get through your final year. You'll be in detention every day, then you'll have to see him whenever Taehyung brings him over.
There's virtually no escape from the man.
Your door cracks open again and your mother enters, hesitantly. The landline phone is clasped in her hand and she eyes you like a wild animal that might strike at any moment.
"It's for you," she tells you and hands over the phone. As you answer it, she scurries out of the room.
"Hello?" you mumble tiredly into the speaker. Your emotions have been completely drained within the last couple of hours of being stuck in the same room with Mr. Park.
"Y/N!" Taehyung screams happily in your ear. You wince and hold the speaker a good foot away from your throbbing eardrum.
"Hi Taehyung," you sigh.
Your brother clicks his tongue at you over the line.
"You should call me oppa," he mutters in a moment of playful bitterness. After that his voice returns to its normal happy volume. "I have something of yours!" he crows.
You frown. "What? What do you have?"
"Well, I don't have it now, but it's on its way here. Jimin's told me that you forgot your cell phone in detention today." Taehyung's voice has a suggestively teasing lilt to it.
You groan in misery as you realize that you did indeed leave your phone.
"I don't suppose there's any chance that you'll bring it to me?" you ask sweetly. "Oppa?"
Taehyung starts laughing hysterically.
You'll take that as a no.
"I'll text mom the address of our house," Taehyung tells you. "You can come get it. Jimin should be home by the time you get here."
Well that's just wonderful.

***

Jimin's POV
Jimin's wrist twists as he rotates the key in the lock, opening up the front door of his shared home.
His head pounds dully after a long day stuck in a room with a bunch of immature high schoolers who, although they're not much younger than him, he far surpasses on both maturity and intellectual levels.
The door creaks open and he enters, closing it behind him and shuffling through the entrance hall. He dumps his keys onto the table beside the door and reaches into his pocket for his cellphone. As he does, his fingers brush a smaller, unfamiliar rectangle flattened against his own
Y/N's phone.
He grins.
Seeing Kim Y/N's flustered and angry expression as he calls her out in the middle of class might become an addiction if he isn't careful. The way her cheeks tint rose and those soft-looking lips of hers part in outrage makes his heart race in a way he hasn't felt before.
Pissing her off is such an adrenaline rush.
And it's not like he'll ever get in trouble for it considering that her brother is his closest friend and roommate and, from what Taehyung's told him, their parents don't pay attention to much.
Happy with his conclusion, Jimin loosens up his tie as he walks straight through the empty common room and into his bedroom. Next door in Taehyung's room, he can hear voices. One sounds feminine and the other masculine. Taehyung must have a girl over.
All of his other hyungs are probably out working or playing, and Jungkookie has night classes tonight.
He guesses he's alone for the evening.
Again.
Sighing, Jimin unbuttons the top few buttons of his dress shirt and wanders back into the living room. Ramen? He nods to himself and starts into the kitchen, stopping abruptly when Taehyung's door opens.
Out stomps an angry Y/N with flushed cheeks and shining eyes.
Jimin's body heats a little at the sight, an involuntary grin spreading across his lips. Why does seeing her angry get him so fired up? He doesn't know, but he doesn't care either.
All he knows is that he wants to see more.

***
Y/N's POV
"Not even one tiny drunk video?" you beg on your knees to Taehyung. "Not even a drunk text?!"
Your brother laughs and shakes his head at you.
"Jimin's got a high alcohol tolerance, Y/N," he says. "He doesn't get drunk very often."
You huff in frustration, standing back up to face your brother. He's not helping at all, insisting that Jimin's a responsible drinker and good at keeping his female conquests private and secret, although Taehyung did admit that he believed there had been quite a few conquests.
You can't believe it, but what did you expect? This is a man that wants to be a teacher for the rest of his life. You guess that being responsible and level-headed are a good qualities for a teacher to have.
"Fine," you grumble angrily. "Don't help me."
Taehyung sighs and rubs his face a little, smile gone.
"Look, I honestly don't even know if there is any dirt to dig up on Jimin," Taehyung tells you. "But your best chance is to look in his little dream book thingy."
"Dream book thingy?" you question.
Taehyung hums in confirmation. "He likes to draw, and he has this little book that he draws all of his dreams in. I guess there might be some dreams, if you know what I mean. He is a man, after all. If you have that and take a picture or something, it might give him some incentive to leave you alone."
You nod slowly. That might actually work.
"Okay," you say. "Where does he keep it?"
Your brother shrugs nonchalantly. "Who knows? I've only heard about it, not seen it."
Of course. Your brother can't actually help you make progress, because that would be ridiculous. You grind your teeth together and glare at him. "What good is it to know he has it but not know where he keeps it?"
Taehyung shrugs again.
"You're no help," you growl, turning to stomp out of his room. His unhelpfulness is too concentrated in the enclosed space of his room for you to stand.
You mumble under your breath in complaint about your brother, not stopping until a pair of black dress shoes land in the corner of your vision.
You gulp.
Looking up, you see your infuriating teacher leaning casually against the doorway to the kitchen, a smirk gracing his lips.
His tie is gone and his shirt is partially unbuttoned, hair messy and sleeves rolled up his forearms. He looks ruffled and rumpled and completely different from his normal clean-cut appearance at school.
"Oh, Mr. Park," you say, eyeing him wearily. "I didn't see you there."
He strolls toward you with his hands stuffed in the pockets of his slacks, looking you up and down throughly.
"Y/N, babe," he murmurs in that soft, melodic voice. "We aren't at school anymore. Call me Jimin."

[A/N]
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