#teacher x student bts

[mochilatae]

The Gift (Namjoon x FemReader/YN)

Word Count: 8.4k (ish)

Warnings: Ethically questionable stuff (student/teacher), kissing, unprotected sex, public sex, seduction, slow burn, Namjoon basically propositions you, wall fuck, standing sex, orgasms (his and yours), fingering (a little), dry humping/grinding, dirty/sexy talk, sexy Namjoon energy everywhere, nicknames, praise/praise kink, scratching, rough/intense sex, drinking.

I probably forgot some warnings but oh well.

Genre: PwP

AUs: Professor Namjoon/Professor BTS

Summary: You're an adult and that means working on your birthday, but you're determined to finish your shift and make the best of the night until a last minute customer changes your plans.

Author’s Note: A very happy birthday gift for @askkrisachan. I resurrected this from the past. It was posted before but was lost when I was deactivated for a bit. I felt it was worth bringing back.

If you're into Professor Namjoon, enjoy. If you're not, please skip. I'm doing this for the Namjoon stans.

Ignore typos. This stands as it is, imperfections and all. If you enjoyed it and feel like giving a Kudo or reblog, it's appreciated but not required.

Tag List: @worldwideseal @askkrisachan

“Don’t be mad.”

Your coworker’s pleading eyes matched the sorrow in her tone. At least she was convincing enough, hands briefly clasped as she filled the limited wait station space. 

You leaned a hip into the counter and glanced at the clock, then back to those eyes, now glimmering. Maybe she was working up tears for added effect. 

“That usually means I’m going to be.” 

“I know you’re almost done.”

“I AM done. It’s 5 minutes before clock out time. I was counting on this time to breathe and hide from anything before the end of shift. Somehow, here you are. The news can’t be good. Would you blame me?”

“No..” She replied, taking off her half apron. You watched her empty the pockets. That was a lot of the end-of-shift gestures YOU were about to do but she still had a good 4 hours left. “..But it’ll be worth it.” 

“That’s not computing.”

You went up on tiptoes, glancing over the top of the wall dividing the wait station from the rest of the main dining space. It wasn’t the busiest night but it had cleared out enough you didn’t notice any new heads among the lot. 

Your eyes returned to your coworker, who was glaring at the time clock, her face washed in the computer screen’s pale glow. 

“Make it make sense.” You nudged her with a hip, earning barely a glance and a thinning of her lips.

“...What’s going on?” 

“It’s my lunch break.” True, but in the scheme of things the end of your shift was higher up on the totem. She had to understand that.

“...And you’ve got to see this guy.” She continued.

“What.” You sighed, arms crossing.

It was a strong battle in your mind---both sides in a battle for the ages: push her back out, apron tossed along to finish whatever she started, or be the bigger person and take on what she’d passed your way.

On such a special day in your life. …Which seemed to be forgetten. 

“Listen to me–” You started, cut off by the ding of the computer’s time clock.

Your coworker spun on her heel, flashing a grin. The rising level of her brows had you curious. She looked almost…delighted and it probably had less to do with her now begun lunch break. 

“YOU listen. Table 3–”

“The one in the back corner?” 

“Yep.” 

“The low value table. Great.” Your arms fell.

This wasn’t going to help fix the grievous deed just done to you. Your mood dipped and your head throbbed with the menacing beginnings of a stress headache. “Of all the days–” 

“Y/n.” She frowned, the shimmer in her eyes calculating. Mischievous and unusual, especially on the clock. 

“It’s my birthday.” You reminded her. Like you had when you’d clocked in earlier and she’d given you a tepid “Cool.” 

She shrugged. “Consider it a gift. Trust me.” 

Your coworker passed over a check pad and your favorite pen. The one you’d just put down. It hadn’t even had a full minute of rest, like you. Until this moment, so wrongly snatched away. 

“I don’t trust you.” Still, you snuck another look out, over to the corner where that single table was situated.

A form was there, hard to see much more from this far end of the dining room. You glanced back at your coworker, surprised to find her eyes still locked at that space across the way.

And her face was painted with barely checked desire. 

“Jen..” You sighed, hearing the wobble at the end of the word. Her pat on your shoulder was brief. Not a single ounce of reassurance from the contact and almost fleeting. 

“Happy birthday, Y/n. Get going. Your shift is almost over.” 

---------------------------------------------

Table 3 had never looked more dimly lit. Or it was your dramatic brain at work, already working overtime with how sorry you felt for yourself. 

Smile painted on, you stopped there, noticing the form right away. Head bowed, you could tell enough: male. Tall. Light hair aglow on the ends from the candle light barely reaching the edges of this space. 

You swallowed, shoulders squaring and spine going straight. 

Just get through this, then you’re done. 

“Good evening.. Have you decided what you’d like?” 

The eyes caught your focus first: almost golden. They flinched wide, then narrowed a moment later. The curve at both ends of a lush mouth. 

The menu met the table slowly, pushed closer to the center. You noted he’d moved the second tightly rolled table setting close to the far end of the table. 

“What do you recommend?” 

“Pardon?” You squeaked. You were taken aback. The usual was a question about the specials, but no one had really asked your preferences. As if you weren’t much beyond a warm body to bring drinks and take away plates. 

Delivery and retrieval. Waiting on the whims of a stranger. For fairly good money. Suggestions weren’t the usual request. It was all about the expectations that you met for others. 

The smile relaxed, spreading. You noticed the shift in his cheeks: shaded dents revealed dimples. You rocked back a little on your heels and turned your stare to the menu, face up on the table. No way from this far you’d make sense of that small print–let alone in the limited ambient lighting. 

Still..

“The ah…Bouledvadier.” You could remember the description and found it promising. And it was the first thing to jump out of your memory. 

The man’s brows lowered until they were even. You watched him scour the menu without making a move to lean forward. He had good enough vision but also verified. You liked that, anyway.

“A cocktail.” He mused. A minute later he stared into your eyes again. “Maybe. What else?”

“Well..if you’re a whiskey fan, we have the Sazerac–”

“Let’s go with that.” A quick enough response. Not that you minded being cut off. The softness in his eyes certainly helped as his stare traveled over your form. 

Suddenly the mid-thigh flounce of your skirt and contouring blouse were center stage. Not that a man’s eyes on you had ever been a problem before. Doing this job, you were used to a certain amount of attention and that translated into higher tips. 

But right now something settled into your belly. A heaviness, bringing with it a glowing warmth. 

You cleared your throat with a nod, jotting the order down. Keeping the pad higher in front of you gave something to hide behind as you peered surreptitiously over the top, pen still poised and trembling just a tiny bit. 

“Anything else?” 

The man finally looked back at the menu, then picked it up, holding it out. 

“For now, no.”

You barely grasped the menu, relieving him of it in short order. As you spun away you heard him call out “Thank you..” 

As you exhaled on the way towards the bar it became clear: you'd held the same breath for far too long. And when it came out, your head spun. The world hazed briefly, you heartbeat galloping momentarily. 

What was that feeling in the back of your mind? It was like an itch. Like something familiar was lingering that you’d forgotten but had begun to grope in the dark to remember. If you fumbled and wandered long enough, you’d stumble upon it. 

---------------------------------------------

It was the way he reached out when you’d set the glass down that had you frozen. Your fingers grazed his as they touched along one side of the tumbler. 

You couldn’t look up. You could barely keep from whining at the silky heat. 

“Namjoon.” 

“...W…what?” You barely mumbled, looking at the way his knuckles rounded with his grip contouring the glass. Your hand went to your side. A brief consideration was made towards never washing that hand again, just to savor the memory of his touch. 

“That’s my name. What’s yours?” 

“Mine?” You blinked. It was a trickle of realization and it was loaded with shame: you’d forgotten to introduce yourself properly. The same thing you’d done for hours earlier. Almost without thinking. You forced a polite frown. 

“..I’m ..sure I said my name when I approached.” No need to embarrass him or yourself. You tried the tactful route. 

“I’m sure you didn’t. I would have remembered.” Namjoon wasn’t having it, his mouth even as the glass approached his lips. 

“Of course..” You nodded,woozy from the action, then bowed your head. “Y/n.” The small curtsey was unintentional and yet done so readily. Like part of your brain was out of control. 

Namjoon’s throat worked. You heard the swallow. He licked his lips, tongue retreating behind slightly parted flesh. 

“Y/n.” 

“Yes.” You smiled at your shoes, studying the shiny black toes of the modest heels that had your feet aching until a little bit ago, when you’d stopped here at Namjoon’s table.

For the time being you’d forgotten mostly everything. Except that persistent nibble, still going at the back of your skull.

It wasn’t getting any better, especially when he leaned forward and picked up a napkin, giving you a better view: long neck. Crisp dress shirt. Still neatly done black tie. A very common mode of dress. The tie pin was unique to him---you’d seen THAT before too. 

“Thank you, Y/n.” He turned the glass a few times, not bothering to hide his study of it. 

“Anything else for you?”

A long moment passed, then his head tilted. “The check in–” He paused to check the time on his watch. You noted the lift of his brow.

“--10 minutes.” Another nod and his smile was much more friendly. His tone even moreso, he added “...You’ve been very attentive.” 

THAT was a lie. If anything he’d been the lowest maintenance customer you’d had all night, throwing you off significantly. Why were you lamenting that fact now?

It was your birthday night and you’d been near the point of strangling your coworker for tossing this customer your way so close to being out the door. 

But now you weren’t so angry. The pressure wasn’t from stress. A new energy gathered, hotter and tighter along your navel as you turned away. It flared when you heard your name again, in a low mumble. 

It was only safe to look back from the safety of the wait station’s border wall, your brows and nose barely above the wooden rail. As you gazed, Namjoon’s lean form relaxed. His knees fell wide and his entire upper body relaxed into the shadows spilling across the wall behind his table. 

Like he’d semi-melted into the dark, sinking into some quiet well of sensuality. Charisma. Some magnetic center you knew you’d find yourself going back to. This time your lips broke apart to suck in a breath you had realized you’d been starving for until this moment. Until this man.

---------------------------------------------

“You’re a student.” Namjoon announced when you returned with his check. 

This time he was standing, stretching a little. For a moment panic swarmed your senses. Had you mis-timed the whole thing and kept him waiting for the check?

You glanced at the wall and the large clock there. It hadn’t been that long. Your eyes hadn’t deceived you, even being on HIM most of the night. 

“I am..” You replied, holding out the check.

Almost every student you knew was working some job at the local restaurants or retail stores. You weren’t unique, but you could freely admit you worked harder than most.

Namjoon took his time, studying the check. Seconds slipped by. The single soft line between his brows, furrowed in focus. The flex in his lips, shining from the remains of the cognac and whiskey blend he’d taken an appreciable amount of time to savor. 

It was the way he did it that united loose ends. And knotted your belly. You..knew the look–that focus. 

“..Professor Kim?” You ventured. 

When he glanced at you, then nodded with a charming grin, you vaguely reached for the nearby chair, fingers curling over the top of the back. 

His smile was like a dawning sun. Like opening a door and smelling delicious baked bread. Stepping into the warmth of a spring afternoon, post rain storm. 

“I was about to say. I’ve been sitting here wondering if it was you.” 

“Y…You know who I am?” But why shouldn’t he? 

Namjoon had an exceptional memory–the kind of professor that greeted every student by name, every single class. Unlike him, you only returned the greeting half the time, but not for lack of wanting to. 

It was so far from why you didn’t. Why you COULDN’T.

Namjoon shrugged, hand going to his pocket to dig out his wallet. He passed the check back, a card pinched with it between his pointer and middle fingers, the digits so long your mouth watered. 

The same ones you’d watched follow the words on a page when you stood next to his desk earlier in the week, watching him scan your latest paper.  All you did was wait, head airy and lungs burning from the world’s deepest breath. Even if it wouldn’t begin to give you enough air being so close to your crush. 

“Mmm. Of course I do. How can I not?” 

“I–” 

“You’re one of my best students.” 

You couldn’t begin to debate it. If he saw your GPA he might have to amend that, but for now you didn’t wither further, tracing fingers that relaxed their death grip on the chair. Feeling the nervous energy, your fingertips followed the ornate woodwork while your eyes followed the lines of Namjoon’s arms, right up to his shoulders.

“Thank you.” You murmured. The check fluttered a bit as you held it up and waved the paper briefly. “I’ll…be right back then, Professor Kim.”

“Y/n.” It was a scolding but his words caressed your soul. And you throbbed, dead center between your legs. You couldn’t look back or you’d faint here, on the spot. Your shoulders rose as you barely turned your head, showing him your profile. 

He waited for a beat, then spoke again. 

“Call me Namjoon. No need for that here. We’re not in class.” 

“I can’t help it.” You flagged a bit, praying there was no insult or trouble. The way you addressed this man spoke to the automatic respect he’d earned with his position and power. He’d earned it. 

“I understand. But try, for me.” 

Ask me to do ANYTHING and I’ll do it.

To be so ready for anything his limitless mind could demand. It had you freshly afraid, but fear never felt this good. The way it moved through you as a current, swilling across the tender hairs on your thighs and the nape of your neck. 

Your lip was nearly raw with a few seconds of chewing. You weren’t even aware, biting so hard. In desperation for..something. Heat gnawed at your guts and you nodded.

Eyes trained towards the POS computer screen farther across the way, you clung to the only beacon in an approaching storm Namjoon had easily stirred deep inside.

---------------------------------------------

“Y/n.” 

The voice came from behind you as you leaned over the table, giving it a last wipe.

Namjoon. Again. 

You stood upright, turning slowly. No need to spin, or you’d take yourself out and take the table with you. Not a good idea, even if this place was much emptier than before. You’d hardly noticed, lingering so much between here and the wait station–a soapy bucket with extra rags bobbing around the steaming depths, waiting for your fated return. 

Your fingers curled, damp rag dripping on the floor near your shoe as your lips worked. Your eyes scanned the area in search, but there was no use: Namjoon was right here. Standing in front of you once more. 

Smiling–again. Without a tie, you noted. You’d never seen him without one immaculately knotted, or his shirt unbuttoned as it was now.  

He’d undone the top two.

You wondered when that happened: before exiting a while ago or entering again, on his way to you still lollygagging under the yolky overhead light. 

…But did it really matter now? 

You watched the way Namjoon’s hand went to his slacks pocket. He patted there, then glanced around you, to the table and the seat he’d used. You looked there too, only to find the glossy black leather cushion, bare but probably still warm. 

Your brows twitched. “..Pr—Namjoon? You…” 

You looked again just in case, then came back with the same result: nothing. You twisted the damp rag and ignored the tickle of lukewarm droplets running down your fingers. Probably making a puddle on the floor. 

“I can check the wait station. If someone loses something, we usually bring it there..” 

You motioned, then took a step forward, heading that way. It was Namjoon’s gentle touch–the fingers on your shoulder, folding so easily over the roundness there. It stopped you dead. 

“It hasn’t been that long.” His hand went back to his side but you’d never felt a stare so heavy the way Namjoon’s rested on you now. And there wasn’t a single inch of you that minded. 

“...Was it your wallet? I don’t think you left it here.” You offered. 

Not at all surprising how meek you sounded. You’d clocked out, in your haze, and just gone about your duties, still taking every second to linger where Namjoon had been for a criminally short amount of time. 

But here he was.

You wanted to lean into his touch, if he’d bless you with it again. Your skin still tingled where his fingertips made pressure contact. 

“Not my card.” He wore too big a smile for someone who might actually have lost a card OR a wallet, but you didn’t move to check and confirm.

Especially not with Namjoon taking up the space separating you from the wait station. This man was so broad. Wide enough to block those familiar walls from your darting eyes.

Mutual staring carried on for a few moments, only interrupted with a titter of laughter as a couple far across the dining room got up, then headed for the front hostess desk. They disappeared around that corner, the double entry doors opening and closing, signaling more departures.

A figure moved at the other end of the dining room, from chair to chair and blowing out candles on each table. 

The start of closing duties, even far enough out from official end time. You should be walking home by now, but here you were: stuck like you’d grown roots or Namjoon had tied you immobile. 

Namjoon took a step nearer. Every inch hacked at the hierarchy you both understood each time you crossed the threshold of the classroom door. 

Right now it was a simple fact of nature: he was just a man and you a woman. Years between you were meaningless–certainly nothing to keep a needful pulsation from rising through your middle. 

“You wrote that paper on the Era of the Common Man.” He flashed a brief, easy smile.

You couldn’t forget, having cried plenty about it. You’d never sweated so much like you’d done leaving the paper on his desk a week ago. Then came a new agony as you’d spent far too long checking the online gradebook each day, with eyes wide and praying harder than a sinner on Sunday.

“I did.” You hedged. Prepare for the worst. THAT was it. He’d returned to give you the dressing down of your life for failing so badly. No pretense of a class session to drop the paper on your desk. 

Why ELSE would he come back? 

Your throat tightened. 

“It was exceptional.” He murmured, lids falling. 

Your heart was in your throat as you swallowed against pressure in your throat. The lump didn’t move. You palmed your navel. There was so much fluttering inside, but skin and muscle overtop didn’t move, except for a slow rise and fall. 

“Hmm?” You swayed lightly on your heels, the pain of hours on your feet just..gone. The rag met the floor in a soggy heap. You didn’t bother looking. If there was anything in the world to care less about at this moment…

Namjoon’s brow rose. “You wrote the paper.” No accusation. 100 percent a dare: protest otherwise. Try to lie. 

You weren’t about to do that. If there was one thing about Professor Namjoon Kim, it was his built in ability to detect the thinnest lie or break the strongest one in pieces. Around campus the common knowledge held true: Namjoon wouldn’t have anything but the truth. 

“The best of the bunch, Y/n.” He added, his other brow rising. Both even along his smooth forehead.  

“I…” You trailed off, mesmerized by a flexing shadow at the base of his throat. The way lines moved around that space kept your attention too well. Your exhale seared through the minimal part in your lips. 

Namjoon was nearer with another step, bringing his scent with. Warm, plum sweet unfurled around you. Quite a feat over the pine oil and clove notes filtering through the space all night and since the beginning of your employment history here. 

“You’re an amazing student.” 

“Thank you.” You swallowed back a whine. Was that delight in your chest? It was running rampant, making your breath limited when the thrill squeezed across your breasts. 

You snuck a look at Namjoon, shocked to find his eyes greeting you.

Beaming down at you, even worse than when he’d stop mid lecture and stand facing the class. Waiting for questions. Confirmation. Responses of the verbal variety or the occasional challenge. 

You noted how he took his time looking around the place. You didn’t dare turn your stare away. Your attention was the least of what you wanted to give this man.

It just got more questionable and salacious from there. 

“You work too.” He observed. You nodded. “Is this normally a work night for you?” 

Another nod. You tucked a strand behind your ear. 

“Seems…tough. You balance working and doing so well in my class.” 

“I’m decent with time management.” Hiding a grin almost hurt as your mouth twisted down at both ends. When Namjoon paused to study your face, you went cool. 

“I don’t think that’s all of it but..” You stared at the tips of Namjoon’s leather shoes, shining under the light as they shuffled closer, stopping near the ends of your Mary Janes. Tightness slowly crept up your thighs. The essence of your soul was being squeezed out of you hellishly slow....and it felt SO good.

“You…came back.” You countered, trying to be brave and cool. 

“Mmhmm.” 

“Why? You didn’t leave anything here..” 

“Maybe not.” Namjoon agreed, chuckling. “..Isn’t today a special day?” 

“Hmm?” 

Namjoon checked his watch, then his expression hardened for a split second. You’d seen that look sitting in the front row in your class, during a particularly poor class wide effort on a pre-mid term pop quiz. 

It was a look that had you sitting a few seats back from the next week up until now. You couldn’t take it–your body felt like it’d been lit on fire. You’d just begun to only feel woozy entering class and sitting down to face him, and he hits you with this reminder. 

“Your birthday.” 

You blinked, looking around too. No answers there–especially not your helpful coworkers who were leaving in turn. Just the normal closers, walking around the edges of the space, in the shadows, and as deaf as they ever pretended to be. 

“My–”

“Birthday.” Namjoon finished, then nodded faintly. 

“You shouldn’t be working on your birthday.” He gave his opinion, and like most times he had his say, he was entirely correct.

“Well.. it’s not a luxury I can afford as an adult.” Especially newly minted in the world. But here you were, doing the right thing. Like in school, that was your style. You couldn’t justify the cut to a paycheck just to celebrate a day you hadn’t given much thought to since grade school. You weren’t big on making yourself a big deal, traditionally. 

“I’m sure you do.” You countered and Namjoon laughed, head back to expose his long neck even more. Revealing endless clean, succulent looking skin. 

“I make room for treating myself.” He said it so freely. Plain and simple, like his stare from hooded eyes. 

“I want to do that.” It was frightening how easy you confessed. 

Something about Namjoon felt safe for you to agree with him.

You imagined what he did on his birthday to spoil himself: Adorable flashes of cutely self indulgent ‘me’ moments, with all his favorite hidden joys, but that quickly vanished as lurid images snuck through your consciousness.

Ones readily to remind of what YOU’D do for him on his special day.

“When are you done?” Namjoon asked, startling you for the umpteenth time tonight. 

“Um…” You almost didn’t recognize the place, looking around again. Lost, you nearly forgot where the clock was until bearings returned—and THAT took an impressive amount of time. Doing the math was quick enough as you replied “15 minutes.”

“Mmm.” This time Namjoon pulled his dress sleeve back a bit more. He’d undone the buttons on the cuff and pushed the material up. His stare leveled on you again.

“..Let me give you a gift.”

“A gift? You don’t have to.” 

Was there that much shame to admit earning his best student label could be a birthday, Christmas AND graduation gift all rolled into one? Maybe to others. People so far from you they might as well be on the other side of the Earth tonight. 

Your lips tightened, after your tongue slid across them. 

“I don’t have to, it’s true. But I’d like to reward my top student—AND celebrate your day. It would make the evening complete–” He paused with a nod towards the hallway off from the kitchen. The one leading to an exit at the back of the restaurant.

And going to private parking. 

“You finish up whatever you’ve got left. I’ll meet you there.” 

A place you never parked but what if he had? The private lot in the back–reserved for permit and friends of the owners ONLY. Requirements you were sure he hadn’t met.

Namjoon had little room for such nagging details. Not acting like he had any pressing concern about it for a second. 

“If you’re sure…” As you got the words out, heat rose to your forehead, finishing the climb up your body. A visceral reaction, strictly from the power swelling in the air. 

The possessive word choice dug claws in and hung on.

‘My best student’. 

‘MY’. 

His. That felt more than right. Better than amazing. Mind bending. 

Heart and head raced for the absolute limit just watching his hand dip halfway into one pocket as Namjoon’s head tipped to the right. He didn’t bother to hide the once-over of your form, before speaking again.

“Never been more. See you in a bit.” 

---------------------------------------------

You barely paused to slide your coat on when Namjoon’s voice came again. From behind you. Deja-vu, but this time closer than he could ever need, even with the narrow hall width. A ruddy glow from the Exit sign painted the minimal space in a world of red.

You liked the ambience at this moment. It paired nicely with a gentle exhale caressing your cheek with Namjoon, right behind you. That was his form you swayed into, without a single inch of yield on his part. 

One hand collecting your coat, he spoke, voice low.  

“Do you normally drive?” 

Wherever your coat went, captured in his grasp, you let it go, but still tried for a look over one shoulder, until Namjoon made a sound–a variant of a growl. Your body reacted, nipples puckering. It was the biggest surprise since Namjoon came back in OR showed up in the first place.

“Y..yeah.” 

It was mostly about affording gas, insurance and the mental space to stress over a daily commute. There wasn’t much in this town that wasn’t within walking distance anyway.  

Your head turned again and body followed. Namjoon retreated, giving you room. Face to face again, Namjoon closed in until his front pressed lightly. The firmness hiding under Namjoon’s clothes was undeniable. Palpable—like the heartbeat along both your temples.

Namjoon gazed down, lips shaping a warm smile. Further in the depths of his eyes, there was curiosity and expectation. A lot like when he waited by your desk to collect a finished test or check your progress on an end-of-section question set. 

Or like last week, in line at the local campus coffee shop, Namjoon unaware and so placid while you’d been bolted in place, back to him and eyes popping. Breath trapped by a tightness in your chest.

“Should I give you your reward now?”

“Reward?” You mumbled, entirely confused. He hadn’t come in with anything. In fact you were certain he’d shown up with LESS than before.  

Being in this tucked away space was perfect with much you daydreamed about getting Namjoon alone. The need drilled right into the depths of your most private fantasies and fate took care of it, just not in the usual way: on campus, in his office. 

Namjoon’s head bobbed faintly. “That’s right.” 

“Reward….Doesn’t sound like a birthday thing.” You grinned. He mirrored it. “We’re not in class, like you said.”

“True.” Namjoon’s gaze darted back to the doorway further down, leading to the main dining room. More candles out meant more darkness. Your coworkers had dwindled to two other people. Two who knew enough to not come looking for you, or care much about anything other than getting home post-closing duties.

“My best student—I think I’ve got enough experience under my belt to know quality when I read it. I’ve spent years reading A LOT of student papers, Y/n.” 

A needless reminder but still served a purpose in flexing how ravenous his mind was. His palm pressed the wall near where your back touched when you leaned back. 

“I know.” Your voice shrank. The pressure between your legs expanded. 

Namjoon lifted his other hand and traced two fingers along a strand of your hair, then tucked it behind one ear before trailing down your jaw. When your lips slackened, Namjoon squinted at your jawline. 

“Close your eyes.” 

His whiskey infused sigh crossed your lips and his mouth connected a moment later. Your muffled moan disappeared into this surprise kiss. Your body melted against Namjoon as he deepened the kiss. 

Your center clenched and you dug nails into your thighs, gently clawing skirt hem higher in a fevered energy burst. Your breasts perked as you sucked in a deep breath with nostrils wide. 

Namjoon’s lips came away. His palm cupped along your cheek. He sunk teeth into his lip and teased the apple of your cheek with his nose, inhaling your scent deep. Exhaling with a rumble. 

“Yes…” He cooed. “Your lips are so soft. Y/n–”

“D..Dolly.” 

Namjoon let out a brief snort. Soft and shocked, but no trace of derision or shaming.

“What’s that?” 

“Call me..Dolly?”

“Dolly..” Namjoon’s mouth pecked your chin and your head met the wall, chin lifted in offering to his hungry mouth. No way a drink was enough to satisfy whatever appetite dragged him back here.

“I like that. Dolly.. MY dolly?” A few more fingers walked your skin, just above the knee. As your thigh fell wide and that foot left the floor when the knee bent, Namjoon explored up and in, rising higher. 

Going right under the hem of that pleated, flouncy material. Where it got perilously humid, at the apex of both thighs. Namjoon turned his hand over, up to the wrist under the skirt. Guiding the back of a few nails across your cotton clad pussy, his brows drew down. 

“Oh my GOD. You’re so …hot. All because of..me?” 

You nodded so fervently your head thumped and an ache shot down your nape. You whined and he let out a hiss. The blunt pad of a finger circled the top of your folds, finding the point of your clit. Making it rise and harden that much more. 

You couldn’t help it, sinking into the urge as your thigh slid up Namjoon’s side to bring that calf over his hip. You tugged him closer and Namjoon fell against you. A broad palm cupped under your other ass cheek and he curled all five fingers, snagging and dragging material towards the inside of your ass cheek. 

Giving you a half thong. Namjoon slipped his tongue past your lips as your breast crushed against his chest. You grabbed at his shirt, feeling buttons popping open more, heat rolling from the wider spread folds of the shirt front, nearly down to the middle coming open. 

When your nails dragged naked skin, Namjoon stilled, then moaned and rolled his hips against you, making sure you could feel and had no denial about the wide cock testing the reliability of his fly. 

“Wish you had your tie on..” You mumbled as your lips dragged up his cheek. You felt the plump there when Namjoon chuckled in a single grunt. 

“I wanted you to have something better to grab onto.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Mnnnhm.” Namjoon’s fingers probed further between your legs, feeling skin cut deep by the diagonally bunched panty crotch.The wetness against air had your folds cooling enough. 

If he kept touching you, he’d undo your entire mind. You might even cum on the spot. Unraveling here was a far cry from the safe and familiar shadows of your bedroom and an upgrade from nights spent smothering under the urge to give in. To touch yourself to a parade of images of this man.

Now it WAS reality: the pressure in the press of his fingertips against you. The way he spread you and the cotton crotch apart. Separated material from skin enough to tuck two long fingers deep, then curving them around to feel your front wall. 

You shook and Namjoon giggled. Indulgently, fingers curiously beckoning. Your fist gripped on his shirt fell and you grabbed again at his shoulder, finding a hill of muscle, tight and sloping nicely. Your forearm belted across the back of his neck and nails sunk into heated skin along the other side, greeted by cords of muscle. 

“There we go.. Don’t be afraid. You’ll need the leverage.” 

Namjoon’s fingers sawed into you with more purpose and your wall sucked around them. When the digits slipped back and almost came out, you whined. When they sunk back in, your breath left. 

As he worked your muscles loose with a steady thrust of his fingers, he studied your face. All your eyes could really focus on was the hazy outline of his hair and the rising shapes of his cheeks when he offered an easy smile. 

Namjoon wasn’t an easy teacher but he made it so easy to lose focus now. To let your body weight fall down as your leg rose up and he guided that calf over his hip. Even his slacks were silky perfection against the delicate skin along the inside of one thigh. 

He slowed to a stop, fingers halfway lodged into your warmth. Your head lolled and he aligned his mouth. Although you drank in the air with deep, slow breaths, right now you couldn’t breathe. 

Namjoon’s broad chest pressed against you. The fingers eased all the way out and he brought them up, staring at the clinging wetness bridging both tips together, shuddering has he hummed through them. 

“You’re such a good student.” Namjoon repeated. “It’s no exaggeration.” A bigger smile as Namjoon suckled the tip of the longer finger and his brows rose for a moment. He popped off and his tongue traced his lips until the shine was gone. 

He took a quick look down between your bodies and grunted. Clearly he admired how your fronts fit together. Was it too much to imagine he’d fantasized about the way you’d fit along his body, the same way you’d done? 

When Namjoon looked into your eyes again, you couldn’t see anything but the hedonism in those depths. If someone had a gun to your head, you couldn’t pry your attention away. Not if all your coworkers walked right into this hallway, right this very moment.

And saw you like a good little whore, leg hitched over this man’s hip. And his hand, right up your naked thigh, rising towards the other hip. 

Namjoon grabbed the outside of your other ass cheek, forearm deep under your skirt, and pulled your flesh apart with a jerk of his chin. 

“Other one. Up.” 

“W..Where–” You began.

“Around my waist.” Namjoon’s voice sliced through the fog in your brain. 

You bounced onto the ball of the other foot and Namjoon did the rest, gripping hard into your warm skin. Five divots sank in as he collected a handful of you, then pulled that thigh in place. And all with the barest change in the rounded shape of his bicep. 

Your fingers stroked up the back of his scalp and Namjoon’s lids twitched, threatening to drop again. He peered at you, then inclined his head as his mouth brushed your own. 

Your lips fell wide. The kiss wasn’t more than a pec. Your moan disappeared into his parting lips when they moved away enough. 

“I want to give my student a gift.”

“You—”

“--don’t have to? I know. And maybe it’s wrong–all this. Me here, with you. What I was thinking when I saw you coming to my table. Before all of that–in the classroom.” 

Your guts and lids felt heavy. Namjoon’s firmness was grinding so nicely against your mound. You clung on, fingers clutching the opposite wrist at his nape. Whatever it took to keep him this close and talking, you’d obey.

You’d listen, just like in class. Except this time you let that need show on your face–brows twisting up as Namjoon rolled himself firmer into you. The wall could handle it all, you reasoned.

“You could tell me what you want, but I think I know. I’m pretty smart.” He chuckled, then nibbled at your neck, sending your head one side. Namjoon nosed along, just below your ear. 

You could only mewl—helpless, wanton little tart that you felt like. At the mercy of this man.You hadn’t counted on ending the night like THIS, when it’d started out with so much frustration and disappointment.

You loved the way his hair felt, curling through your fingers. The way his scent washed up from his collar as it came away from his neck at the back. Your eyes drank in the lines running down below, into the dark of his dress shirt spread tight over his back. 

Clothing shuffled under your hovering ass as Namjoon fished around with a free hand there. He leaned enough against you to keep your back stationary. And the wall wasn’t going anywhere. It’d seen a few collisions over the years. 

Blunt heat swept your folds as Namjoon spoke again, voice dipping. Then mouth too, hunting for your breast. Finding it through the material just as he slid into you. Whole and entirely with one driving stab of his hips. 

He bottomed out and your world shrank. To say Namjoon filled you was underselling it. He spread your skin perfectly, stopping just at the first pinch of pain. But that pain melted into a buttery buzzing when he pulled back and thrust again with slow purpose. 

It was all the testing he cared to do, and all the prep you really needed. As Namjoon fell into a focused pumping, he braced one palm into the wall under your arm. The other he cupped under your ass, lifting you just a little. 

You’d never fucked like this, against a wall. Or felt so weightless as pressure revolved through you from below. Your pussy rippled and Namjoon cleaved through it, hushing his moan of enjoyment with face pressed between your breasts. 

Your arms hugged around his head as you forgot the world again. Forgot you’d clocked out. Forgot the parking lot beyond the door at the far end of the hall. 

Skin sweated as Namjoon exhaled more regularly. He was panting as his hips snapped. His length rocked in and out of you. While your limbs were feeling more and more loose, and your head lighter, your core was starting to tighten.

It gave a warning clamp and Namjoon faltered, then growled and turned his face up to you. You’d only seen this kind of intensity in his eyes talking about some topic in class that he was particularly obsessed with. 

But it was amazing to be the focus of that now. To KNOW this was because of YOU. Your body and your sounds. You sex, squeezing Namjoon as he barreled through you effortlessly, shaking you like a leaf in a storm. 

Your body tensed as another warning spasm seized your middle. Your eyes popped open as your arms circled his head tighter. Nearby, a framed painting danced as Namjoon gave a boisterous thrust.

“N..Namjoon” You whined, inhaling his scent. A cologne you’d know anywhere.

The cinnamon hint of his office–where he spent mornings, mid days and some evenings. You’d walked by there too many times, seeing that light on at odd hours or his silhouette darkening the frosted glass beyond, with his name carefully stenciled on one side. 

“Yes…” He hissed. Another deep, aggroed thrust. 

Your shoulders slammed into the wall. The painting danced again. Settled with a lingering sway. 

Bliss washed through your mind, then raced down to your pussy. You knew the rush. The coldness in twin bolts. You were going to cum and it was like falling into a bottomless pit. Stumbling over it on your run away from such daring things. 

Things a good student didn’t do with her professor.

Nails dug in again, this time feeling the hair line running just behind his ear. Namjoon tightened when you dragged flesh with an unabashedly whorish groan bubbling up. 

“C…c…umming..” You rasped before your body melted down into his motion. The strength and stamina Namjoon had allowed him to hold firm, crushing you with his pelvis tightly smashed between your thighs. 

Your belly shuddered as the high faded into uneven clenches. Your eyes rolled, searching through the dark. Picking up things along the way: ambient sounds of footsteps. Laughter. 

Skin prickled under the clinging sections of your top, dampening from sweat. 

Hairs on your arms stood when Namjoon’s head finally came back enough and he gazed at your lips. Taking the time to completely fuck into and out of you, Namjoon was moving again. His head tipped down as he looked up at you from under his lashes. 

His brow dotted. Upper lip too. The sweat droplets stood against his neck. A trickle escaped down into the darkness of his open collar when he swallowed and his length dove into you again. The wall gave more protests: something rattled. Wood popped. 

Another thump. Your eyes widened a little as the pleasure woke inside you again. You felt slick and limp but seeing the way he was so intent. He wasn’t done. 

His teeth set as Namjoon forced words through. “Such a good girl.. What else do you want?” 

He was a man on a mission, asking because there was something he saw in your eyes, that still lingered. A need that wasn’t quenched by one orgasm in a dark hallway. 

When you didn’t answer, Namjoon barked, unconcerned that this wasn't a bedroom somewhere. It was his turn to forget the world and his place in it. 

“Inside me.” Your lips quirked. Teacher's little whore had finally peeked her head out.. And you'd been waiting for this kind of moment most of all.

The steady pace that Namjoon employed before had changed. His upper body fell against you as he exhaled with a moan. His lower body drove harder. Swirling his hips, he drew in a deep breath and chewed his lip to buy more time. Like you, he seemed to know pain was a savior as much as a distraction when precious seconds counted.

Your eye contact only broke when his lids fluttered dangerously slow. 

“God..” Your body jostled, mind dizzy in post orgasmic scramble. “..Say ‘Please’..” He was teasing you, grin half cocked. 

“Please..” You played along, twisting the word breathlessly. Your body bounced harder. So did the frame. This time it was in danger of falling off–you were certain. But you were also as uncaring as you could be. 

Right now it was all about Namjoon’s driving cock. Namjoon, close to you like this. It was YOUR day. 

Your senses swirled, tipping you closer to another orgasm. Your thighs convulsed around his narrow waist. Tightened when he kissed your collarbone. He raked nails down the wall nearby, going quiet with a final, single thrust. 

Your fingers circled his neck as Namjoon arched away from you, joined only where your hips met, his neck muscles as taut as steel cables.

Time passed enough you’d begun to focus again on all the small things that had easily faded into nothingness and the shadows beyond your horny mind and the restaurant’s limited lighting. 

More lights went out from the other end of the hall. Footsteps drew closer. Your eyes and head snapped towards the sound. You gasped, hands sliding to the edges of both Namjoon’s shoulders. It was impressive, how long it took for that to happen. 

There weren’t many boys OR men with shoulders that broad. And the dewy condition of Namjoon’s shirt told you he might have made it look easy, but it WAS work. He was still careful, letting you down onto your feet. 

While he swept fingers under the skirt and sorted things in place, your eyes grew in size, fixed entirely on the darkened doorway at the far end. You could swear you saw movement in the shadows. Shapes of people, about to become tangible, and about to make you the talk of the place.  

“You have to go.” You whispered fervently. 

Namjoon brushed your skirt back over your thighs and reached around the back, doing the same over both cheeks. All things considered you were none the worse for wear.

“We.” 

Namjoon stepped back, one hand outstretched and grin shining. Even with a light layer of sweat on the skin you could see, Namjoon still looked even more delectable than you ever managed. You hadn’t taken any post-sex selfies, but could bet the results wouldn’t look this good.  

“No. YOU… Just…” Your cheeks rushed with warmth and your thighs trembled. You waved a hand when he reached for it.

Namjoon’s frown stilled you but he washed it away with a gentle smile. Like he hadn’t heard the approaching footsteps, Namjoon took a step closer. He didn’t have much of a fight, taking your wrist in one large hand this time.

“We..” He intoned with more purpose. This look dared you to defy this time, but you didn’t. Just like you, behind your desk during class hours, waiting. Silent and rapt.

Namjoon tugged you forward, pulling you along as he backed down the hall the other way. Mercifully going towards the door to the parking lot.

His back met the bar across the door and it popped open. The night sky came through the thin slice of the outside work revealed between the door and frame. With it came cool night air that your heat parched skin craved.

Namjoon’s hair rustled in the easy night breeze. He pulled again and you touched the door, feeling the cool metal, skin prickling. 

“I’ll give you a ride back. We’re not quite done, though.” 

“..We’re..not?” At the very least your coat was somewhere back there. You'd have to get that later tonight. Or..god help you, tomorrow morning leaving his place, if the birthday girl in you got ALL her wishes.

“No.” 

Namjoon stepped entirely into the night outside. Cars dotted the lot opening up behind him as his dress shoes crunched over asphalt in another long step back. The night hadn’t been this nice when you’d arrived at the restaurant hours ago. 

“You didn’t drive.” He glanced around and you watched his eyes roving the scenery around. It was hard to tell if he was counting cars, looking for his or just checking for the odd creep lurking past closing time. 

Another weak flutter moved through your walls as you watched his eyes come back and settle on you. When he reached for you this time, he straightened. This was more like the confident man at the front of the classroom. The one you wanted to sit down for… Or even get on your knees. 

“I’ve got a few more things to give you. You like cake? If it were my birthday, I’d be all over it.” 

“I do..”

You didn’t tell him you’d planned on stealing a slice from the kitchen on your way out. It was perfectly acceptable that Namjoon threw a wrench in those plans. 

He nodded and exhaled, throat working. Strong, warm fingers wrapped, all muscle and silk, around your entire palm and held tight. Your hips ached, signaling he’d left his mark. 

“Good. Let’s get that sweet tooth sated, Dolly.”

“Then?” You almost tiptoed towards Namjoon’s looming form in the dark and he only turned when you were about to touch fronts again.

Maybe he wouldn’t mind if you followed him to the ends of campus, or the ends of the earth. You kind of had a ‘thing’ for this man. And he knew it now, if he’d ever NOT known it. If you thought about it, it’d be embarrassing how transparent it would look from the outside, to anyone else behaving like you’d done. 

“..Then we can talk about more presents. Birthdays aren’t meant to be a one present affair.” 

That was true, but you hadn’t hoped for much beyond an ill-gotten piece of cake or a card from your parents. That was probably waiting in the mail slot at home. ...Anything else was a bonus.

Namjoon was heading towards a particularly sleek looking sedan tucked into the corner most parking spot kitty corner from the back door.

You should have known. You’d seen his car too many times.

Watching him, lounged in the driver seat on cooler mornings, reading through a book, or waiting at the entrance of the campus staff parking as you waited for the crossing sign to change at the nearby intersection.

You had it BAD for him. And he was onto you. And maybe that was the best birthday gift of all. 

Finally you smiled as your fingers found their way around Namjoon’s, winding delicately and squeezing in need. Almost..gratefully. 

“Well then.. Happy birthday to me.” 

[byuljoonie]

Heart 2 Heart // jhs

pairing: Hoseok x reader

genre: fluff, drabble, College!bts AU

word count: 1.3k

summary: Your TA is kinda hot and you have a cold

note: I just wanted to write some fun Hoseok fluff…I miss him :333 Have a great week everyone, ily ! -dubu

You hugged your sweater closer to your shivering body as you made your way into the room. Your music blasting through your headphones distracting you from the pneumatic symptoms you were experiencing.

It’s your last class before you can finally go home for the day. The semester wrapping up in the blink of an eye. You walk to your usual spot in the room. Taking a seat in the chair closest to the door.

You were exhausted, you attended 2 classes prior to this one, and barely had time for a lunch break. You regretted even coming today. Hearing your friends’ mocking voice in your head.

“Y/N? Y/N!” You felt someone tap your shoulder. Removing your headphones in annoyance.

“Are you okay?” a familiar voice asked. You turned and locked eyes with Taehyung, your classmate and long time friend.

“Do I look okay, Tae?” You asked sarcastically, sniffling in response to his question. He lightly shook his head, taking the only seat next to you.

“Well, maybe you should have stayed home like I said last night,” he quipped with a cocked brow. A nagging expression sewn to his face.

“I need to turn in this paper. I worked too hard to wait until next week, Taehyung.” You confessed hesitantly, trying to sound normal.

“Yeah right,” he said pulling out a messy blue binder.

“What’s that suppose to mean?” You asked defensively. He shrugged in response, pulling out his essay.

“Oh look there goes your actual reason for showing up,” Taehyung said motioning towards someone walking through the double doors.

You tried to glance discreetly, a blush creeping on your cheeks as you stared at the bubbly man. The cream oversized button down he wore looked spiffing on him.

“Shut up,” you said kicking Taehyung under the table. He stifled a laugh, handing his paper to you so you could look over it.

“Good afternoon, everyone!” Hoseok said cheerfully, walking around the large brown desk to lean on it. He was met with a few unenthusiastic hello’s and a grunt from Taehyung.

“Well, Professor Kim won’t be able to make it today. So I’ll be taking up your essays and checking them.” He announced carefully.

“Thank you for working hard this year.” He said looking around with a smile.

His eyes momentarily pausing on you a few seconds too long. You bit your lip in response, praying you didn’t look like a yearning fool.

“I’ll be around to collect them in 10 minutes. Take your time settling in,” he said sweetly, clasping his hands together punctuating his words.

“Here, read over mine then,” you said passing Taehyung your essay from your Miffy folder. He nodded absentmindedly, placing an earbud into one ear.

You peered over at Hoseok, unknowingly locking eyes with him. You bit the inside of your cheek, looking away in embarrassment. He smiled at your actions, chuckling to himself.

Shortly after your revision, Hoseok began walking around to collect everyone’s assignment. He mingled his way from table to table.

Leaving a trail of warmth and kindness behind, he ended his rounds with you and Taehyung.

“Here, I can’t promise what’s on there.” Taehyung said pertly, giving Hoseok a gummy smile.

“And yours?” Hoseok asked gently, reaching for your paper. He smiled down at you in delight, loving the way your eyes didn’t stray from him. You handed him your work shyly, coughing a little.

Taehyung smirked at the interaction before him. Flipping through his binder as if he weren’t paying attention.

“Thank you, Y/N.” Hoseok said removing the paper from your hand. You nodded, too nervous to speak.

You felt Taehyung lightly kick your foot under the table, urging you to converse. The air seems to hold its breath, mirroring unspoken words between you.

With visible hesitation, Hoseok takes a step back, holding out on his true intentions. His retreating steps carrying him back to his desk.

Taehyung turned and looked at you in amusement. You shook your head at him, daring him to speak. He raised his hands in surrender, letting one last rebuttal slip past his lips.

“You’ll never get anywhere with that attitude, Y/N.”

You woke up the next day with an earthquake of a headache. Your stuffy nose plugging all hopes of comfortability.

You hastily let Taehyung know that leaving bed won’t be possible today. He responds quickly, assuring you that your rest is most important.

“Your boyfriend might miss you,” he texts teasingly, “I’ll be over after class.” You roll your eyes at his first message, trying to push away the thoughts of Hoseok. Rolling over for a well needed nap, you turned off your phone.

Taehyung placed his bag in your seat next to him. Claiming the spot as if you were just arriving late. He scrolled through his phone, not noticing the shadow in front of him.

“Hey, Taehyung?” Hoseok said lowly.

“Hmm?” Taehyung hummed, eyes still glued to his phone screen.

“Will Y/N be here today? I’m just wonderin-“ Hoseok questioned before he was cut off.

“She’s out sick, but she’ll be here Monday. Don’t worry.” Taehyung reassured the concerned man, unmoving eyes glinting with mischief.

The following 3 days go by in whirlwind. Monday afternoon resting in the palm of your waiting hand. You were the first to arrive in class, taking your corner chair unconsciously.

You spent majority of your last class sneakily glancing at Hoseok. Juggling thoughts of courting or cowardice. Professor Kim’s words drowning in a sea of disregard.

Before you know it, he bids everyone a good day and upcoming break. Congratulating you all for completing his class successfully.

Hoseok quips in with an amiable farewell, thanking everyone for welcoming his assistance with open arms.

Students filed out of the room gradually, muttering amongst themselves about arbitrary events. You trailed behind Taehyung, zoning in and out of your discussion about lunch.

He probed you for an answer, stomach growling on cue. You pulled your eyes from the floor, telling him to walk faster.

“Hey! Y/N, can I talk to you for a second?” Hoseok asked, grabbing your arm before you could cross the threshold.

“Oh, sure.” You said skin warming at his touch. You told Taehyung you’d meet him at his place later and suddenly you were alone in the lecture room.

You both walked over to the professors desk, setting your bag on top. Hoseok took a few deep breaths before pulling a small gift bag from his backpack.

“I got you something, Y/N. You’ve worked really hard this year and I wanted to reward you.” He confessed timidly, handing you the purple gift bag.

Your smile lit up in an instant, feeling mounds of gratitude for the hard work you’ve put in this year.

“I was going to give it to you Friday, but I thought today seemed perfect.” He began bashfully, “Our last class, but hopefully not my last time with you.”

You bit your lip nervously, your heart pounding at his every word. His hair falling perfectly on his forehead, cheeks glimmering in the dim lighting.

“Thank you Hoseok, you really didn’t have to do this.” You said opening the bag politely in front of him. You couldn’t contain the squeal of delight that escaped your pouty lips.

“Oh my gosh! A Miffy plush, I love it.” You said excitedly hugging the slender man. His hands automatically found their way to your lower back, hugging you instantaneously.

You pulled apart in embarrassment, not meaning to be overly affectionate. Hoseok’s expression changing to that of disappointment when you pulled away.

“I noticed how fond of Miffy you are.” He said coyly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I might have gotten myself a little keychain too.”

He reached around his bag, showing off the keychain that looked exactly like your gift. Your cheeks grew hot and a small smile graced your lips.

“Are you saying you want to see me again, Hoseok?” You asked playfully, cocking your head to the side at him. He let out a cute laugh, looking around in amusement.

“Yes that’s exactly what I’m saying, beautiful.”

[jeon-s-sins]

Middle Of The Night | Index

Synopsis : In the world you lived in, humans were not the only inhabitants of Earth. For years, you had fantasized about your homeroom teacher without knowing his true nature. At night, you thought and dreamed only of him, unaware of the weight of your actions. What will happen when you finally discover what he is?

Incubus : An incubus is an evil spirit or demon who appears in the masculine form to sexually prey on sleeping women during the night. An incubus is what the stories from ancient myths and folklore also characterize as an entity that could impregnate women or even kill people while they were sleeping.

Warning : teacher/student relationship, age gap, demon!Jk, dom!jk, sub!reader, masturbation, pleasure (mutual), and lot more

n.a : English is not my first language, so it’s possible that there are some mistakes that I missed while proofreading.

Parts

Part I || Part II

n.a : I hope you enjoy this story as much as I do. To make sure you don’t miss the progress of the chapters as well as their release, don’t forget to check out the Working on and Updates section, where you’ll find not only updates on “Middle Of The Night”, but also other stories and “One Shots” that you’ll probably enjoy as well. Also, don’t forget to check out the Masterlist, you’ll probably find something for you among my other stories in progress and those to come.

[xoxiu]

autumn outside the post office - jin x reader

chapter four table of contents masterlist join the taglist

≪ how long will beautiful things last? ≫

summary: it wasn't your fault that dr. kim was the most beautiful man you've ever seen. falling for him was entirely your fault, however. first semester at college and you're already dreaming of a student/professor relationship- so naughty and against the code of conduct. you like the thrill, though.

tags/warnings: smut, teacher!jin, college au, cute yet forbidden romance, daddy dom!jin, love triangles, frat boys jungkook and taehyung, age regression, age play, ddlg, spanking, eating disorders, mental health, first love, exhibitionism, lots of blowjobs, age gap

taglist: @severecatsheep

"Today we're going to be starting our first novel, Our Twisted Hero."

For once, you stared outside the window during literature class, looking at something other than Dr. Kim. You felt too guilty, uncomfortable, and dirty after what you did. He was your professor, and you kissed him.

And you liked it.

What made it all worse is that you wanted more. You wanted to be absolutely destroyed by this man, and then lovingly cuddled immediately after. You wanted him, nothing but him, and all of him.

"y/n?" A voice called out your name- it was Dr. Kim. You snapped out of your thoughts and turned your focus back on the class. Seokjin smiled as you did so.

"Thank you for rejoining us." You blushed out of embarrassment- you had been caught daydreaming.

The class continued with no other distractions. Still, you were in a dazed high from yesterday. Nothing felt real as you jotted down assignments in your planner. Just like that, you were distracted again. Little hearts covered the empty spaces of your planner as you mindlessly doodled on.

"y/n!" Dr. Kim scolded this time, slamming a book against the desk. You jumped in your seat, sitting up straight and giving your full attention to the professor. A blush heated your face as everyone turned to look at you.

"Since some of us don't want to pay attention, class is over now. Remember to have up to page 20 read and your study guide done for Monday." He looked back at you, solely addressing you, "y/n, I'd like to speak with you for a moment."

You slowly began to pack up your backpack as students filed out of the classroom. Dr. Kim made his way to the back of the class towards you, his eyes burning holes into you. He smirked as you kept your head down, refusing to look up at him.

"You really can't keep me off your mind, can you?" He teased, putting a finger under your chin, forcing you to look at him. His stare soon turned cold again, "Look at me when I'm speaking to you, hun."

"Yes, sir," you blushed at the pet name. Looking down, you noticed a growing bulge in Seokjin's slacks.

"My eyes are up here, y/n." He gripped your chin forcefully. "See something you like?"

You opened your mouth, but no words came out. Seokjin released your face and reached behind you to close the blinds. The room grew significantly darker, especially in the back where a fluorescent light above you had burnt out. Wetting your lips, you couldn't keep your eyes off the professor as he leaned against the back wall.

"Knees, now."

Without hesitation, you kneeled on the floor, shuffling closer so you were closer to Dr. Kim. He smiled down at you, running a hand through your hair. You leaned into the touch and closed your eyes.

"Such a good girl, so obedient for Daddy." Seokjin tugged at your hair, forcing a small gasp out of you. Your panties grew wetter from his words. Not a single thought was running through your mind except for Dr. Kim.

The man chuckled above you. "I'm not sure if you deserve this after not paying attention in class. Or was this exactly what you were thinking of?" All you could do was let out a pitiful whine, looking back and forth between his bulge and his face.

"Hmm? What's that? Not as brave as you were yesterday, huh?"

Kissing him felt like nothing; you had kissed guys before this. However, not once were you so close to another person's private area, teetering on the edge of sex. It felt exciting, yet intimidating.

"I-I don't know..." You mumbled, feeling a lot more shy and exposed. You looked away towards the door, anxious that someone may come in. Seokjin seemed to pick up on your worries.

"No one has this room reserved for another hour, don't worry. It's just us." Another hand ran through your hair, gently stroking it and placing a stray strand behind your ear.

You weren't ready for this. It felt wrong. As your eyes darted around the room, you anxiously bounced on your legs. Leading the professor on like this was a horrible thing to do, and for what? All you had was a little crush and now look at you, kneeling in front of your teacher with soaked panties as he palmed his hard-on.

"Maybe you're not ready for this cock, is that it?" You nodded your head, embarrassed tears glazing over your eyes. Your hands came up to cover your face from any more embarrassment or shame.

Seokjin picked you up and placed you on the table next to your bag. You moved your hands away from your face, allowing him to deeply kiss you. Kissing him felt so easy, and when he tugged gently on your bottom lip, you went crazy. Your hands wrapped around his broad shoulders, pulling him deeper. His tongue found its way into your mouth, and your eyes shot wide open. You pulled away from the kiss, not liking the feeling.

"What's wrong?" Dr. Kim asked, his face full of concern. Biting your lip, you stared at his beautiful, full lips, now tinted red.

"I don't like tongue," You felt ashamed to admit, "Sensory thing..."

He giggled at your bashfulness, placing a gentle peck on your lips.

"I'll try to remember that."

————

The Korean Cultural meeting took place in the library. You decided to skip your meeting at the last minute, deeming it pointless. Classes had been going well, better than well in fact, so you saw no point in attending.

As you approached, Dr. Kim sent you a smile. He pulled out an empty chair for you right next to him. All eyes were now on you. You tensed up as you took a seat, looking around the table with a wavering smile.

Jimin and Taehyung sat across from you, hyping up your arrival. 'There she is!' 'The party can start now!' 'As beautiful as ever!' You blushed at their cheers, desperately wanting them to just shut up. They were so nice and friendly, maybe a bit too much, but it always made you smile.

There were many people you didn't know. They stared at you with confusion, questioning who you were and why Jimin and Taehyung acted so excited to see you. At the end of the table sat Cara with another boy. She was all over him, her legs over his lap and arms embracing his neck, basically sitting on his lap. The boy looked mighty uncomfortable and tired until his eyes landed on you. He looked you up and down, smirking.

You couldn't help but notice his shirt with 'TKE' on it in giant letters. Oh, he was in Tau Kappa Epsilon with Taehyung. Upperclassmen had warned you about them, and how they were the unruly frat house constantly on the verge of being suspended from Greek life. Taehyung made you believe the rumors were all exaggerated lies, but one look at the boy across the table only confirmed the stereotypes. He looked like trouble.

By the time the meeting start time came around, roughly 16 students were in attendance. Once the table capacity was reached, Seokjin gave up his seat next to you, opting to stand between the tables the club was using. There was another professor you didn't recognize who lead the meeting, with Dr. Kim commenting every once in a while.

You felt eyes on you at all times. From the boy at your table to Dr. Kim, you knew you were being watched. You tried your best to ignore it, listening to the speaker, but you couldn't help but take quick glances.

The boy looked you over as if examining you closely. He looked impressed by you, making you feel small under his gaze. His eyes watched your every move, focusing a bit too much on your chest area, as if you were a theatre act. He didn't want to miss a moment of you.

Dr. Kim's eyes were softer, more welcoming. He looked almost proud of you for showing up tonight, thankful that you came. You didn't miss his wink as your eyes met, making you blush and quickly look away.

The meeting concluded sooner than you thought- only lasting a solid 15 minutes. A packet was passed out to everyone, detailing upcoming meetings, events, and a study abroad trip to Korea.

Led by Mr. Kim.

You were the last one remaining at the meeting, logging the meetings and events into your planner. A hand on your shoulder made you jump- you swore you were alone.

"Thank you for coming tonight," Dr. Kim looked down at you with a smile. Smiling back, you closed your planner, giving Seokjin your whole attention.

"I'm sorry about earlier," he said, looking genuinely remorseful.

"It's okay, you didn't know."

Seokjin checked the time on his watch. "I think the buses stopped for the day by now. Shall I drive you home?"

Flustered, you stammered out gibberish. You knew the buses hadn't stopped their routes yet, not until 10 pm. Dr. Kim was lying to you, trying to persuade you into getting into his car. Hesitation flooded your thoughts. You knew that if you got in his car, this relationship would cross the boundaries of a professional relationship. Leaving campus with a teacher was a major red flag. There would be no going back.

"Sure."

[hobaworld7]

KNJ - Teach me

pairing : reader x namjoon / student!reader x teacher!namjoon / bestfriend taehyung, maybe he's in love with the reader, he doesn't know yet -and either do i lol-

genre : forbidden relationship, teacher and uni student relationship, all consensual, both adult, really a slowburn, this chapter doesn't have any smut i'm just constructing their relationship

word count : 1880 words

warning : don't hookup with your teacher plz, this is just fiction, just don't do it okay AHHAHA

summary : NamJoon is a new teacher and you are the student president. He notices you after being late a few times in a month and he's trying to get your attention. You both feel an attraction but this is forbidden so you try to forget about it.

a/n : i could write a whole book just with the inspiration that turtleneck-namjoon is giving me. enjoy army. okay i'm lowkey really proud about where this story is going. it will have more then one part.

disclaimer : pictures from pinterest / namjoon isn't mine / just an imagine

**IN REVIEW/REWRITING**

_ _ _

It was the third time you were late this month for Mr.Kim morning english's class. You were never late, it never happen. Except that you just moved on the other side of the city and the buses were unpredictable in traffic hour in Seoul. You were attending one of the most famous high school in Seoul so even if you were to move in another country you would still attend here, it was an amazing school.

You knock two times and readjust your skirt before opening the door. You bowed at your teacher saying sorry a thousand time. ''Go to your place Miss Y/L/N, and stay after class.'' Said the english teacher, Mr.Kim,

''Yeah Mr.Kim.'' You sat in the front row, in your usual seat. You were a student president. You were always attending different meeting for the student life and teacher always loves you. But something told you that Mr.Kim was getting pretty bothered with your delays.

***

The last student left the class and you got up your chair, slowly gathering all your things in your bag. Mr.Kim approach your desk and sat on it. ''Can you explain yourself Y/N? It's the, what, third time this month?'' He wasn't mad, he was just worried because even if he has been a teacher here for a few months only, it wasn't in your habits to be late.

''Yeah, I'm sorry, I just moved to a new house but it's on the opposite side of Seoul. The buses are always crazy in the morning but it won't happen again, I promise.'' He put his hand on your shoulder and look at you in your eyes. ''I hope so, you are supposed to be a model for other students. If it happens again I'll have to give you detention. It won't look good for a student president.''

''Thank you for your understanding Mr.Kim!'' You bowed and left the class. You sigh and grab your bag tighter, hoping that he didn't see your shivers when he touched you. It was his first year teaching at your school, maybe it wasn't sure about the rules but in no way student and teacher should have physical interaction, even just a hand on a shoulder.

***

Today, you arrived an hour early at school. It was the only way, taking the earliest bus, to not be late. You grabbed breakfast from a convenience store and sat in Mr.Kim class. You ate your breakfast and finished some homework. You were so tired, this week has been crazy and you were so stressed out about all the assignment you got in the past few days. You decided to rest your eyes a bit and take a quick nap on your desk before the student arrive. You set up an alarm on your cellphone to be sure to be awake for the class. You were deeply asleep when NamJoon enter the class, the light were still off, only the sun shining trough the window was lightning up the room. He let out a little laugh, seeing you asleep on your desk. It was pretty aware about the rules of this school, it was more strict than every other places he applied. Still, he couldn't stop himself to gently remove the strand of hair that fell over your eyes. You squint your eyes and mumble something in your sleep. NamJoon let out a little chuckled and went to sit at his desk after opening the light. Student will start soon to arrive. You alarm clock went on and you quickly turn it off. You yawned and arrange quickly your hair when you saw your best friend, Taehyung, enters the room. He laugh at your sleepy face and sit near you.''You look horrible, are you okay?''

''I didn't, you yawned again, i didn't want to be late, had to get up at 4am.'' A big sight left your lips and you look at him with puppy eyes. He patted gently your head and hands you his coffee. ''Here, you need it more than me.''

You laugh and take the iced americano out of his hand and take a sip. ''Taste amazing, thank you tae tae, you're really the best.''

You smile at him and take your book out of your bag. You look up to see the professor looking at you. Just a straight up kinda angry look. You blushed and put your hand over your face as you look toward your friend. You cross your leg, make sure your skirt is covering your tights and continue talking with your friend.

When the students hear NamJoon clearing his throat to get attention, they go silent. The lesson goes well , Mr.Kim gave to the class a surprise exam to test their knowledges and it ended a little earlier than usual.

At the end of the class, he say good bye to every students that were leaving. As you were gathering your books and pens, he turn over to face you. ''Miss Y/L/N, could you stay behind. I have something to ask you as the student president.""

Accepting to stay behind, you look at your friends leaving to Taehyung's place to get ready for tonight's party. ''I'll see you tonight Y/N!'' One of your friend say, before leaving to our other classes. English was one of the only class were all of your friends were together.

Your best friend gently tapped your head before heading out. When the class was empty, once again, you get near the teacher's desk. ''Miss Y/L/N, I would need help for the correction of that test you just did, the other professors told me I could ask you, would you mind staying today after school to start this correction task?''

You sighed and push you hair behind your ears. You will unfortunately be late to the party tonight. Unable to say no, you accept this task, as if you weren't already overbooked with all your responsibilities. ''Mh, no, I don't mind. I can be here around 4pm after school, is it okay with you?''

''Perfect, you can go, thank you.'' You swear you could have seen him wink before you turned around. You grab your things and went to your next class, you cheeks completely blushing.

***

The day went well and fast. You friends were a little sad about the fact that you'll be late to tonight's party but school always come first. ''At least the teacher's hot!'' Your friend said, laughing with Jimin and Taehyung. ''She will be completely entertained by just the way his button up fit his muscly arms.'' Jimin added.

They all laugh and your cheek are burning as the assumptions about your after-class session with the hottest teacher on campus will go. You quickly leave the table, mumbling something about seeing them later if you are not too tired. You enter the class, just in time, it was 3;59. ''Hello Mr.Kim.''

''Hello Y/N, how was your day? Not too tired?'' You bowed as a respect sign and answer him. ''No it's alright. I'm glad I can help you with correction.''

''Perfect, you can grab a chair and come here, I'll go over you copy with you so you know how I excepted you to correct and review your classmate's exams.'' Once your bag is on the desk and that you have your pencil case in hands, you grab the nearest chair. You put it just in front of the desk but then the teacher look up at you.

''Come here, he show you the free space next to him, it will be easier to see what I'm doing.'' You shyly grab the chair again and put it next to his. He smiles and open the drawer next to him, taking your copy out first. He slowly went over every questions and without surprise you got no error.

''You did a great job Y/N, I wish I had more student like you. You can go over there, he point the end of the desk, and start correcting, I'll be here if you have question.'' You start correcting, sheet after sheet. Your class was really bad at this, most of them failed it. You were half way through when Mr.Kim interrupted you.

''I'll go grab something to drink, do you want something?'' You denied his offer and look down to the next sheet. ''No thanks Mr.Kim''

''You can call me NamJoon when we are just both of us. No need to be too formel, I'm only, what, like 5 years older than you?'' He let out a little laugh.

He laughed, and it was the most beautiful sound you ever heard. You shyly put your hair behind your ears and bowed your head. ''Perfect I will, Mr- hum, NamJoon.''

He smiles and taps your shoulder gently before heading out. You take the opportunity to update Taehyung about how much time you have left. You continue correcting the exams and NamJoon comes back from his break. ''Anything planned tonight Y/N?''

''Hum, yes, I do actually. Why?'' You look up at him and it was actually the first time tonight that you took the time to examine his feature. He was actually really pretty for a teacher. Most of them being old and disgraceful. But him? He was the complete opposite. He was always so kind and gentle with every students, understandings their needs. He had a soft and comforting voice. His black hair were always a little messy and fall a bit on his neck. And what could you say about his charming hazelnut eyes. ''Just making conversation, don't worry. Do you wanna leave early? You can finish it Monday.''

''No, it's okay, I'm almost done with the first half. It won't be long for the other half, but thanks!'' The rest of the correction went well. You were trying not to look up at NamJoon because most of the time you could feel his burning eyes on you. Only knowing he was looking at you with those eyes made you blush.

An hour has passed now and you were finally done. ''NamJoon? I'm done with the correction, do I need to enter the grades somewhere before going? ''

''No, it's fine, I'll do it! Go enjoy your Friday night. See you on Monday!'' You thanked him and left to get change in the nearest bathroom. It was a farewell party to one of your friend so you brought a black dress with some puffy sleeves to be yet cute but chic too. Before leaving the school, you look in your purse for you cellphone and realize you forget it in NamJoon's classroom. You hated yourself for it and hoping he was already gone. You didn't want to much people to see you like this and specifically the teacher that made you feel hot and shy every days. You really needed your phone so you went back to the class. Gently knocking on the door when you realize the lights were still on.

''Mr.Kim, hum, NamJoon? I think I forgot my phone here? Is it on the desk?'' He was busy entering the grade on his computer, but when he heard your gentle voice he lift his head to look at you. You were looking amazing in that dress and it had clearly some effect on him.

''Yeah actually, you left it on the desk. You should be more careful miss.'' He opens his drawer and grab your phone. He hold out his hand, the phone in his hand. You walk towards him and take the cellphone. You thanked him and bowed at him. You walk back, slightly pushing your dress down, when you were walking it was always going up a bit.

He called your name and you turn around. He was looking up and down at you. ''You look really pretty tonight. Enjoy your night and be careful. Don't drink too much ok?''

''Thank you professor, I won't drink too much!'' You left his classroom and open your phone to see that he wrote his number onthe back of your phone, on a little purple piece of paper.

''if you ever need something you can call me, xxx-xxx-xxxx knj''

You called your friend to let him know you were coming and grab a taxi to your destination. ''Stay calm Y/N, he is your teacher. It can't be happening.'' You mumbled to yourself. He just want to be sure that his students are safe. Nothing more than that. But still you could feel that attraction when you were near him.

Little did you know that the professor was in the same state as you. Completely submerged by your presence, he had to keep his calm all night because you were in front of him. He was too feeling the attraction between him and you.

_ _ _

Next part is coming soon, thank you for reading!

CLICK HERE FOR THE SECOND PART :

___

If you want to read more, here is the link of my masterlist : https://www.tumblr.com/kimtaehyung-taetae-writing/710423978560421888/masterlist?source=share

thank you army!

[wookiecookiesfactory]

mmmh might go back to my she ra phase just so I can ship shadow weaver and micah, I didnt get to do it the first time

[hayls-parkie]

THE SUBSTITUTE (reader x Yoongi)

2nd attempt at writing fanfic 1st attempt for BTS

idk the format to write this shit so yeah

sUmMaRy: Y/n gets a little taken aback (or flustered?) at her school's substitute teacher for music given his odd behaviour that y/n has never experienced before.

Warnings: none

Part 1

I was just your regular music student trying to survive school. While some people called me pretty, some people talked shit about me behind my back. Either way, I didn't care. All I knew was that I was the most average girl who was probably a tad prettier than everyone else, with the most immature boys for exes and the weirdest bitches for friends.

It was autumn. A soft breeze in the air, maple leaves drifting in the wind as the trees are left to go bald for the winter. There I was, in the hallway as usual. I wore a casual sweater neatly tucked into my knee length skirt. In one hand I had my books, in the other my bottle of mineral water. It wasn't common to see teens my age have a water bottle with them since it was more of a middle school thing, but who cares?

I paused in my tracks. I looked down at the transparent, plastic bottle in my hand, and walked towards the bin, tossing it before continuing my walk to music class.

Maybe today I could try to not have water with me...

Why would I need water anyways? __________________________________________________________

I sat down in my usual seat for music, second row from the front, all the way to the right, just beside the dust covered windows.

We always used the lecture theatre. Never the classrooms. There were more than 40 students taking music as a gradable subject in school so I guessed it made sense to use a bigger venue for it. The stale air in the lecture theatre was a clear sign that no one had used it in a few days, probably even a few weeks.

F/n sat down in the seat next to me, placing her tote bag on the vacant seat next to her. We've been friends since the start of high school, and it was a pure miracle that we had ended up in the same college.

"Y/n!" F/n shook my shoulders lightly. I looked in her direction, knowing she had something to say.

"Did you hear about the substitute for music today?" F/n asked. I could tell that she was trying hard to coat the excitement in her voice with a layer of questions. I frowned, shaking my head.

F/n inhaled sharply, leaning in closer to my ear. I shifted closer, curious as to what she was about to say.

"People are saying he's this hot teacher from a private academy that specialises in children who are gifted in music." F/n whispered into my ear before pulling away, a huge grin plastered on her face as she bounced up and down in her seat, eyes sparkling with excitement.

"And why are you telling me this?" I asked, raising an eyebrow in suspicion.

"Are you seriously asking me this question y/n?" F/n groaned in frustration. What, was I supposed to magically know why f/n directed certain questions to me?

F/n leaned in again, but not as close as the first time.

"If he's hot we could date him!" She whisper shouted. I swear I almost choked on non-existent water. I stared at her, wide eyed in shock and...a tinge of disgust. F/n looked at me with utmost disappointment before rolling her eyes.

I shook my head. "We're not going to date any teachers or whatsoever," I paused for a moment. "But then again, who's stopping us from admiring them?"

As soon as f/n heard my words, her entire face lit up again. My lips curved into a smirk. Tricking f/n was always fun.

Within the next 10 minutes, a few more students had begun streaming in from the large ceiling to floor wooden doors, seating in a randomised order. Eventually, everyone had sat down.

Just as the soft chatter slowly turned into loud conversations, a shadow slipped through the now half closed doors. I craned my neck towards the shadow, only to see a glimpse of black hair almost reaching the person’s shoulders.

“Y/n! That’s the substitute for our music class today!” F/n shook my shoulder vigorously like a love sick high school girl (F/n and I are already in college) watching her crush from football walk in. Her eyes were wide like marbles, mouth agape as her eyes trailed over to the figure standing by the door at the other side of the lecture theatre.

I rolled my eyes at her childish behaviour. Why would anyone bother about a hot substitute? He'd just be another handsome man who'd waltz into our lives and walk out the doors, oblivious to the heartbreak the girls just went through watching him leave.

Just as I was in the middle of my thought process, I began to notice the conversations around me turn into hushed whispers and gasps. My gaze wandered over the crowd of students as their eyes stuck to the front of the lecture theatre.

"His hair is gorgeous!"

"He looks so hot..."

"Black's definitely his colour."

All these comments were sickening. Girls fawning over a substitute. The boys awestruck by his sense of fashion. F/n beside me, her breath knocked out of her windpipe as she tries to contain her heart from beating out of her chest.

"Are all of you just gonna sit there like fools?"

His voice was deep as hell.

The shocked voices of everyone were quickly drowned out by the rush to stand up before another insulting word was thrown at us. I stood up, still trying to catch a glimpse of his face.

“I’ll be your substitute teacher for the day as your current teacher is sick. You can call me sir.”

Everyone frantically greeted him with a courteous bow before sitting back down, the murmurs surfacing again. His side profile was the only part of him that was visible to me right now.

Finally, this “sir” walked towards the stand at the front of the lecture theatre, just a few metres away from where I was. He placed his briefcase on the stand as I craned my neck again, hoping to finally see his face. Just as he looked up at the class, I glanced over, looking at him.

He was…gorgeous to say the least.

A man in his late 20s, dressed in a black suit that complimented his tall frame and a head of hair that was a beautifully crafted mess of soft curls that sat on his collar. In the midst of admiring him from afar, he turned his head in my direction, my gaze meeting his.

The moment we locked eyes, A burst of butterflies emerged within my stomach. My heart stopped for a split second, a spark igniting inside of me. My mouth fell open a little, my eyes wide open as we held eye contact for what seemed like an eternity before he looked away.

Was it just me, or was he experiencing what I felt as well?

I couldn't dwell on it. Not when he was taking on the role of a teacher in a class that I was taking.

"Today we'll be doing some vocal warmups." He announced, taking a step in front of the stand.

"B-but sir we're doing theory work-" F/n started to speak.

"You'll be following my instructions today." He cut her off, his tone displaying uninterest in whatever we had to say. He slipped his hands into his pockets, walking down the rows.

Pure horror was engaged.

Projection of our voices, keeping our mouths open, correcting our pronunciation, having to be in sync, blah blah blah.

After a rough 10 minutes of vocal warmups, my throat was nonetheless sore and completely deprived of water.

I raised my hand, looking in his direction.

"Sir may I get some water?" I asked, my voice hoarse and weak.

"No."

"But-"

"We'll continue on with more vocal warmups."

I looked at him in horror, turning to f/n, seeing if she had a water bottle. F/n could only raise her empty one sheepishly, before putting it in her bag.

After a lesson of hell, I couldn't speak anymore. It almost felt like the spirit of those vocal warmups had come and sucked my voice box out of me, leaving nothing but a suffering throat and aching jaw. This "sir" wasn't as nice as I expected.

The bell rung, signaling the end of class. Even though the only thing that I did today was lose my voice, it still felt physically draining to my entire body. F/n was nowhere to be seen now. What a bitch she was now. Her best friend was in desperate need of water and not a single bit of compassion was being shown.

I stayed in my seat for a while, watching everyone making a beeline for the exit.

"Hey!"

I looked around, only to see the teacher walking towards me. I cleared my throat, only to realise there wasn't anything to clear. Sitting upright, I could feel my heart pounding against my chest, the butterflies swarming within me again.

He stood in front of me, hands behind his back. I eyed him suspiciously, noticing his features were rather defined.

"Where's your water bottle?" He asked, his eyes taking the shape of siren ones as he stared me down.

"I threw it out." I replied weakly, my voice fading towards the end of my short sentence.

He sighed, before revealing a matte, black water bottle behind of him. Gesturing for me to take it, he tilted his head to the side, an amused smirk on his face.

I couldn't really bother much as to why he offered it to me seeing as to how I was dying of dehydration. I snatched the bottle out of his hands, twisting the cap open and tilting it towards me lips, the fresh feeling of water gushing down my throat. I quickly emptied the contents of the water bottle, before exhaling in relief.

"Thank you sir." I said meekly, handing the bottle back to him. His slender fingers wrapped around the bottle, hands showing faint signs of his veins as he took the bottle from my hands.

"Why did you let me drink from your water bottle?" I asked him, looking up at his alluringly handsome face. My gaze was then focused on his hands, his fingers around the bottle. What if those fingers were around something else, or better, in...

I bit my lip to refrain my mind from drifting to the darker side of all this.

"You said you didn't have your water bottle and I was being kind." His nonchalant voice and expressionless face seemed to be hiding a deeper emotion, but I didn't question further.

"Thanks I guess." I mumbled, grabbing my bag, slinging it on my shoulder.

"Next time bring a water bottle."

"Next time?" I looked up at him, confused. He didn't bother to answer my question, instead walking back to the stand where he packed his water bottle into his briefcase. What rude behaviour for a teacher.

I scoffed, and walked past him and towards the exit of the lecture theatre.

"Oh, and don't call me sir anymore. Call me Yoongi."

"What?"

I stood right at the doors, looking back at him, butterflies exploding inside me yet again. Heat began creeping up to my face, my cheeks burning. My heart was about to burst out of me chest again. My hand gripped the knee length skirt I was wearing, a perplexed look on my face.

"Y/n?" F/n had come to look for me again. I snapped out of my trance as I swiveled around, looking at f/n. She had mineral watered bottle in her hands, all ready to give it to me. I kindly took it, smiling awkwardly as I turned back to look at him ignoring my presence as he continued to pack up.

"S-sir?"

"You may leave now."

"What?"

"Leave."

A little taken aback, I blinked, only to stumble out of the lecture theatre.

[kiwijoonie94]

Professor Min

Namjoon, with his dragon eyes and sun-kissed skin, was a walking paradox. A notorious troublemaker with a mind sharper than a diamond cutter, he left a trail of bewildered teachers and exasperated sighs in his wake. His latest escapade - bribing a cow onto school grounds - was the final straw. Enter Professor Min Yoongi, a man sculpted from ice and intellect, tasked with taming the untamable Namjoon.

Yoongi's house, a testament to minimalist luxury, became their unlikely battleground. The initial sessions were a tempestuous dance of defiance and control. Namjoon, armed with a repertoire of snark and rebellion, met Yoongi's unwavering resolve head-on. Yet, beneath the bravado, Namjoon's pain flickered like a dying ember. His parents, absent figures lavishing him with money but not love, had left him adrift in a sea of loneliness.

One session, amidst the usual verbal sparring, Yoongi, with a quiet intensity, asked, "Are you okay?" The question, laced with genuine concern, cracked Namjoon's facade. He mumbled about feeling like an orphan in his own home, the words raw and laced with hurt. In that moment, Yoongi, the embodiment of stoicism, saw a reflection of his own childhood neglect.

From then on, their sessions shifted. Yoongi, the disciplinarian, became Yoongi, the confidante. He didn't offer empty platitudes, but a quiet understanding, a steady presence in Namjoon's chaotic world. He challenged Namjoon academically, pushing him to excel, and in the process, chipped away at the walls Namjoon had built around himself.

Amidst the intellectual sparring and late-night talks, an unspoken bond blossomed. Namjoon, for the first time, felt seen, not just for his mischief, but for the vulnerable boy beneath. He started catching himself stealing glances at Yoongi, his heart stuttering at the way the moonlight painted silver streaks on Yoongi's dark hair. Feelings, unwanted and unwelcome, bloomed in his chest.

Yoongi, too, felt a shift. The boy he was meant to discipline had become someone he cared for deeply. He saw the potential beneath the bravado, the loneliness masked by defiance. But the age difference, his position as Namjoon's mentor, were shackles on his burgeoning feelings.

Their unspoken dance continued, a waltz of stolen glances and meaningful silences. One rainy afternoon, as Namjoon helped Yoongi prepare tea, their fingers brushed. The touch, electric and fleeting, sent shivers down both their spines. In that charged silence, both knew their feelings were mutual, a secret blooming in the heart of forbidden territory.

The story can take many paths from here. Will Namjoon confess his feelings, risking their bond and facing potential consequences? Will Yoongi acknowledge his own desires, jeopardizing his career and reputation? Or will they continue their unspoken dance, forever yearning for what they cannot have? The choice is yours, dear reader. Let your imagination paint the ending, where love and forbidden desires collide in the heart of an unlikely

[hellbornsworld]

JUNGKOOK FANFIC RECOMMENDATIONS(4)๑‿︵‿୨

.⋆｡⋆ ༶ ⋆˙⊹ع˖⁺ ⋆ ୭ .⋆｡⋆༶⋆˙⊹༺⋆｡⋆༶⋆˙⊹.⋆｡⋆ ༶ ⋆˙⊹ع˖⁺ ع˖⁺

✿ When She Loved Me | CEO!JK X Reader | One-Shot | @jungkookstatts

✿ Sleepaway | Yandere!JK X Reader | Series | @flowesona

✿ Mine | Jungkook x Demon! Female Reader | One-shot | @playmetheclassics

✿ Your eyes tell | Yandere!JK X Reader | Twins AU | @angellgguk

✿ Noir | Daddy!JK x Little!Reader | @bonny-kookoo

✿ Love Is a Game: For Political Enemies | JK X Reader | @lleldey

✿ petals with luv | Emporer!Jungkook x PalaceWoman!Reader | Hanahaki AU | @hisunshiine

✿ a lover’s bond | jungkook x female reader | greek mythology! AU | @latetaektalk

✿ love in the dark | Ceo!JK X Reader | One-Shot | @spideyjimin

✿ Like I’m Famous | Idol!JK X Reader | One-Shot | long distance au | @softyoongiionly

✿ I’ll Be Home for Christmas | Pilot Jungkook x female OC | One-Shot | @bluewhale52

✿ Falling | jungkook x female reader | Soulmate AU | @starshapedkookie

✿ Pick Your Fighter | gamer!jk X gamer!reader | @jikookiekosmos

✿ angels like you | Jungkook X Reader | S2L | One-Shot | @aquagustd

✿ Killing me softly with his touch | JK X Reader | One-Shot | @borathae

✿ Bad Man | Badboy!JK X Reader | @bonny-kookoo

✿ The Monster in the Dark | yandere!sleep paralysisdemon!jjk X fem!Reader | One-Shot | @themochiverse

✿ S O U L M A T E S | Crackhead!Jk X Reader | Series | @smaubts

✿ bad romance | badboy!jungkook x goodgirl!reader | One-Shot | @noteguk

✿ No Guardian Angel | The Crow!Jungkook X Reader | @jiminstonic

✿ Love Letters | Prince!Jungkook × Maid!Reader | @bonny-kookoo

✿ LESSON I | YandereTeacher!jungkook x bully student fem!reader | Three-Shot | @redsaurrce

✿ RED | demon!jk x fem!reader | Series | @armpirate

✿ Follow the White Rabbit | idol! jungkook x idol! reader | @youthguk

✿ Ｎｕｍｂ ｔｏ Ｔｈｅ Ｆｅｅｌｉｎｇ | Dark! Shitty! Yandere! Jeon Jungkook x Fem!Reader | One-Shot | @pynkgothicka

✿ Delivery Date | pizzadeliveryboy!jungkook x reader | One-Shot | @dntaewithluv

✿ Who is in control? | jk x reader | Drabble AU | @ctrlsht

✿ sweetest apparition | nerd!jungkook x popular!female reader | @jeonfiles

✿ m y s t r a n g e a d d i c t i o n | professor!jk X student!Reader | One-Shot | @joonberriess

✿ to err is to love | dilf!jk /ex husband!jk / ceo!jk x afab reader | Series | @jungkookschin

✿ polarity | BestFriendBF!JK X Reader | Series | @darkestcorners

✿ KILL TO KISS YOU | Yandere!Jungkook x Prostitute!Reader | One-Shot | @chummywchimmy

✿ Ode To The Nature Of Romance | Jungkook x Reader | @yeoldontknow

✿ Cabin in The Woods | Werewolf!Jungkook x Human!Reader | One-Shot | @girl8890

✿ Nothing was gonna stop me | Jeon Jungkook x Reader | One-Shot | @wildestdreamsblog

✿ Teacher’s Pet | professor/dilf!jungkook x student!reader | Series | @axigailxo

✿ prima nocta | king!jungkook, virgin!reader | royalty au | One-Shot | @yoon2k

✿ End of Time | Jungkook x Reader | Series | @deepdarkdelights

✿ ��𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬 | Yandere!JK X Reader | @euphoricfilter

✿ Paint | painter!jungkookxassistant!reader | @hongjoongscafe

✿ 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆 & 𝑷𝒆𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒔 | environmentalist! jungkook x college student! reader | @miraclesatnightfall

✿ The Broken Vow | Husband!JK X Reader | One-Shot | @lleldey

✿ Euphoria | bad boy jungkook x librarian yn | @btsydtrash

✿ White Pearl | CEO Sugar daddy Jungkook x stripper sugar baby reader | @lovelyspring7

✿ just a little bit of your heart | JK X Reader | @chemicalpink

✿ imminent danger | jungkook x reader | @whatifyoulivelikethat

✿ Knockout | boxer!dad!jungkook x pregnant!reader | Drabble | @jvngkook97

✿ Please Love Me! | Frat President Jungkook x Succubus Reader | @icedmatchatae

✿ The Boyfriend Experience | Escort!Jungkook x Fem!Reader | @shina913

.⋆｡⋆ ༶ ⋆˙⊹ع˖⁺ ☁⋆ ୭ .⋆｡⋆༶⋆˙⊹༺⋆｡⋆༶⋆˙⊹.⋆｡⋆ ༶ ⋆˙⊹ع˖⁺

OTHER POSTS:

JUNGKOOK FANFIC RECOMMENDATION(1)

JUNGKOOK FANFIC RECOMMENDATION(2)

JUNGKOOK FANFIC RECOMMENDATIONS(3)

ALL BTS MEMBERS WATTPAD RECOMMENDATIONS(1)

BTS X READER WATTPAD RECOMMENDATIONS(2)

[flowersdiceandlove]

hi @allpiesforourown I just saw your Winx Club fandom Binghe post and it made me think of an au. So, modern au, both Shen Yuan and Binghe are involved in multiple fandoms and are both legendary posters in each of them. The thing is...they hate each other. Their online fights go down in fandom history. The Epic Battles of Peerless Cucumber and the Heavenly Pillar. There are fan accounts and Youtube videos dedicated to explaining their messy fights. There's a whole wiki page about it. Binghe has the most unhinged takes and Shen Yuan drives himself mad trying to reasonably dismantle those takes and why they are stupid and what is wrong with you?!?! But, Binghe comes back with somehow solid sounding arguments? That are somehow so crazy and make you lose all sense of right and wrong and turn everything on their head that you actually are like "wait, this guy might be onto something" until you actually remember the context and go "this guy is batshit insane! lock him up!"

So, they go head to head. A lot. Across many fandoms because they actually have the same taste in media to the point that they feel they can't escape each other. Every time they enter a new fandom, they see the comments and posts in the online communities and are like "you got to be effing kidding me!! That guy is HERE too?!?!?!!" Binghe also posts the same type of scathing reviews that Peerless Cucumber is infamous for, which are good, except for the unhinged takes sprinkled in with the logical. And that's what drives Shen Yuan so crazy. Because this "Heavenly Pillar" is actually a good critic and able to comprehend complex themes that so many others miss or misunderstand. He also completely misconstrues stuff with his unhinged takes.

And Binghe, he's just gonna fight to the death to defend his blorbos and ships.

The thing is, Shen Yuan is Binghe's tutor or something irl and Bingbing's got the biggest crush on him. Obviously. And, they talk about shows and books sometimes, and have good, deep discussions about them, finding they have a lot of the same tastes. Shen Yuan will lend Binghe a book or recommend a show and vice versa. They have fun. They do not share their online handles. Shen Yuan does not want this sweet little white sheep he's been tutoring since middle school knowing about some of the stuff he reads and messing up his image (he has an irl reputation to uphold!), and Binghe doesn't want his crush to know exactly how crazy he is and about all the teacher/tutor x student stuff he posts about, thinking it will dash his chances with his precious, sweet Yuan-gege. He's in college now, he might finally have his chance! So, they keep their online lives separate from their irl ones, not just with each other, but with everyone in their lives. Best not to mix them.

And so, things continue until one day, Peerless Cucumber suddenly becomes the Heavenly Pillar's number one supporter. He's going back and ripping apart everyone who's calling the heavenly pillar a lunatic and to lock him up saying "you don't know what's been through! there could be reasons he's like this! and are those takes really that bad!?!?" (yes. they are) People are reeling at the 180 seeming overnight that came out of nowhere after years of rivalry and hate thrown between them. He's also backing the Heavenly Pillar's takes and headcanons up by saying "yeah, I can see how it could be viewed that way. Totally valid." and then presenting a bunch of canon moments and bts and creator interviews to support it. (It's still all totally insane. But now there's two of them) It makes people actually start to question their sanity because Peerless Cucumber is normally the voice of reason, so if he's agreeing with the Heavenly Pillar, then are they the ones that are actually crazy??

Meanwhile, Shen Yuan is in his apartment, reading webnovels on his phone with his new boyfriend's head resting in his lap, idly petting his fluffy hair. Binghe's never been happier.

And, in case you were wondering, Binghe's Heavenly Pillar account has basically turned into a Peerless Cucumber Fan Account. He gushes in his replies to Peerless Cucumber, praising him, and saying how amazing his analysis' are. He'll also, in his own comments and posts, reference Peerless Cucumber posts constantly.

Yes, people are shipping them (they have for a long time, but now it's becoming a more widespread thing). Yes, they have wiki ship page. Yes, their ship name is PillarCum.

[jeon-s-sins]

Middle of the Night | Part Two

Synopsis : In the world you lived in, humans were not the only inhabitants of Earth. For years, you had fantasized about your homeroom teacher without knowing his true nature. At night, you thought and dreamed only of him, unaware of the weight of your actions. What will happen when you finally discover what he is?

Incubus : An incubus is an evil spirit or demon who appears in the masculine form to sexually prey on sleeping women during the night. An incubus is what the stories from ancient myths and folklore also characterize as an entity that could impregnate women or even kill people while they were sleeping.

Word count : 5.8 k

n.a : English is not my first language, so it’s possible that there are some mistakes that I missed while proofreading.

↤ Previous | Index │ ☕️

It had been three months since the strange dream with Mr. Jeon. That dream had turned you upside down. When you woke up, you were confused. You didn't know if what happened was a dream or reality. But everything seemed so realistic. You could feel his touch on your body even after you woke up. 

Every millimeter of your skin still remembered his big hands, and the shivering proved it. The lips between your thighs were swollen from the abuse of his cock. Your clitoris was sensitive from the pleasure Mr. Jeon had given you.

Although you wished it was more than a dream, you had to face the fact that it was all a dream. You had an erotic fantasy with your teacher. This was not so surprising to you. Unfortunately, it was not the first time you had an erotic dream with that man. 

No wonder, Mr. Jeon was a walking fantasy. Any woman could be at the mercy of his charm. Mr. Jeon was more than a muscular body and a sharp, square jaw; he was sensitive, empathetic, devoted, and helpful. As the years passed, her feelings for him only grew.

You didn't have time to answer her because you were interrupted by the sound of your classmates' chairs scraping the floor, signaling the end of class. You rushed to put your things away to avoid being the victim of your roommate's interrogation. But it seemed Chung-Ae, knowing in advance that you wouldn't answer her, had decided to let it go.

"Besides, I have to hurry. I must go to the store before I go to Garry's." Garry, her boyfriend. By the way, you had to go shopping too, the end of the week was coming, and you had almost nothing left in the fridge and cupboards. Of course, when Chung-Ae said she had to go shopping, she was referring to the blood bank.

Every week, volunteer nurses manned booths where generous souls devoted themselves to donating blood so that our vampire friends could feed themselves. As for you, you had no choice but to do the mundane business.

You ran down the steps of the amphitheater to leave the room. Unfortunately, you were sitting in the middle row, and to get to the exit, you had to walk past your professor's desk. "Hey, YN." You were just standing before your teacher's desk when Chung-Ae called you.

"I won't be at the dorm this weekend. Garry texted me during class and asked me to spend the weekend at his house. I hope you don't mind." You assured her that you didn't mind, but that she owed you a pepperoni pizza to make up for it. Without further ado and pretending she didn't hear you, only to annoy you, she quickly left the classroom, leaving you behind.

"Miss Y/L/N," You turned to the person the voice belonged to and were surprised to see your teacher, Mr. Jeon, standing before you. "Sorry. Did I scare you?" Indeed, he had surprised you a little, the last time you turned around, there was no one behind you, and now here he was, standing in front of you after not even a few seconds had passed. But of course, you didn't want to admit to your teacher that he scared you a little. "Oh, Mr. Jeon. Not at all." He hadn't answered anything, but a smile had appeared on his lips.

When the last student left the lecture hall and closed the big door behind him, you were left alone with Mr. Jeon. It was enough to make your heart race and your hands sweat. "May I ask why you didn't come yesterday?" Unbelieving, you didn't know how to answer. Last night? You had nowhere to go, so you didn't understand the reason for his question. "Forgive me, sir. I'm afraid I don't quite understand your question."

"Yesterday, we were supposed to meet in my office for a routine interview to follow up on your academic career." Shit. Shit. Shit. So that's why you had this terrible feeling that you had forgotten something the day before.

Fuck!

"Damn it. I totally forgot." You tapped your forehead to show that you had forgotten your appointment with the man who haunted your thoughts day and night.

Such occasions are not forgotten. Besides, you had written it down everywhere to ensure you wouldn't forget. "I'm so sorry, Mr. Jeon." Mr. Jeon, who hadn't said anything until now, just looked at you to blame you for the little mistake you had made.

No, he didn't like to see you 'torturing' your mind, but something about you, the way you ran your hand through your hair in frustration, made you attractive. Because of your gesture, your hair had been pulled back, giving your teacher a great view of your neck.

It's a good thing you weren't a mind reader. Your teacher was sure you would have been shocked by all his thoughts about you if you had been. Long before his claims were confirmed, something about you had intrigued him, but he hadn't figured out what it was for years. Now that he knew, he couldn't help but imagine all sorts of scenarios with you.

"Relax, Miss Y/L/N." He had said as he placed his tattooed hand on your shoulder, sending several waves of shivers through your entire body. "Forgetting happens to everyone. If you're willing and able, we can reschedule our rendezvous from yesterday to tonight in an hour and a half, if that's okay?"

Mr. Jeon had not proposed to you earlier because he already had a date with another student, which was supposed to be his last follow-up date of the semester. Without any hesitation, you accepted your teacher's proposal. You didn't have to do anything anyway.

Your roommate wasn't going to be home tonight or this weekend. You didn't have anything important planned, just some groceries. You probably wanted to take advantage of Chung-Ae being at her boyfriend's house to monopolize the bathroom with a nice warm bubble bath.

You would use the bubble machine in the bath for the first time and the LED lamp under the water to turn your bathtub into a Jacuzzi. And maybe even use a bath bomb. One thing was for sure, you wanted to watch Netflix, eat some fruit, and drink wine while bathing.

What could be better than a relaxing bath to transition between a long week of classes and a lovely, relaxing weekend?

Just thinking about it relaxed your body; all you wanted to do was go home.

"Yes, it's perfect. An hour and a half seem perfect." You had replied, aware of his presence and the circumstances of your exchange. Besides, it was perfect. It gives you time to do your shopping. In any case, it did not take long to do it. You already knew where everything you wanted to buy was, which undoubtedly saved you time.

After shopping, you still have time to go home and drop off your purchases. You also dropped off your school supplies and warmed up with a lovely homemade hot chocolate before leaving Mr. Jeon's office. In front of his office, Mr. Jeon was saying goodbye to the student he had an appointment with before you. When he saw you arrive, he smiled at you with that smile you liked. The one that showed his bunny teeth.

"Miss Y/L/N, come in." As you walked past him, your arm brushed against his, and at that moment, a soft electric current invaded your entire body. You felt your heart rate increase from the tiny contact between your two skins and the thought of being alone in a room with this man, the man of your dreams.

"Please, sit down."

The faculty office was on the top floor of the main building. Thanks to the enormous bay window, you could see a good part of the campus. The advantage was that there were no buildings across from the one you were in. Mr. Jeon's office was relatively modern. You could see that he was the kind of person who wanted his place to be well-kept and presentable.

Unlike what you might expect from a university office, with lots of papers everywhere and a bland brown decor, Mr. Jeon's office was far from that image. The ceiling was white with two large black lines running parallel, one above Mr. Jeon's desk and two above the white two-seater couch and armchair. A modern LED light with a black dimmer was in the middle of the ceiling. The wall behind the rolling chair in your teacher's office was two-toned. While the middle of the wall was white, the ends - about forty centimeters - were black. There were three black wooden shelves with some books and decorative items.

The rest of the furniture and the door were made of oak. The floor was covered with white tiles. In front of the sofa and armchair were a soft cream-colored rug and a glass coffee table. And in the corner was a black Gubi Gräshoppa floor lamp.

As soon as Mr. Jeon sat on the sofa, while Mr. Jeon sat in the chair diagonally to you, he finally broke the silence. In his hands was a brown folder with your name and a notepad. You remembered seeing this file before. Every time you had an interview with Mr. Jeon. It contained all the school information he needed to know. He has collected your schedule, notes, documents, and other things for the past five years.

You have imagined those veiny hands running all over your skin in many scenarios. And other more sensitive and pleasurable parts. In your most obscene fantasies, these hands grabbed your hair, wrapped perfectly around your neck, cupped your breasts and tweaked your nipples, spread your thighs, and sank into your swollen, wet pussy because of him. You could feel your underwear soaking up your wetness just thinking about it. The sensation of his fingers repeatedly going in and out of your pussy was handled in your southern region, and without holding it back, you let out a soft moan that you quickly tried to cover with a throat clearing.

Mr. Jeon was not fooled. He had clearly heard your moaning, which you tried to cover by clearing your throat. True, the moan was not high or very distinct, but the man in front of you had excellent hearing and could hear a moan from a mile away if he wanted to. He thought it was adorable how you tried so hard to hide your crying, the flush in your cheeks giving you away. But being the perfect gentleman, he didn't say anything, not wanting to make you feel any more uncomfortable than you already did.

"So, Miss Y/L/N, how is this semester going?" Mr. Jeon had placed the folder on the coffee table in front of him, giving you his full attention before opening his notebook.

"I must tell you, sir, this semester is a little complicated. Not the classes themselves, but the schedules and the workload." The classes weren't complicated, but the schedules were a mess. Some days, you start at eight in the morning and finish at eight at night. You had five-hour breaks in between, which sometimes made you not want to go to class, especially on days when you finish late at night. Since the beginning of this new school year, you have been skipping some classes. This would undoubtedly be detrimental to you soon - during midterms - but fortunately, you were in a tight group with your classmates. It was common for you to pass notes to each other in the chat group you had created in your first year of the Master's program.

"It's exciting that we have speakers. Professionals in the field. From my point of view, it allows us to have more relevant information and tips that will have a sure impact when we students move from theory to practice." Besides, whatever you told him, all your classmates shared the same opinion as you. You had all discussed it more than once while waiting for the teacher to arrive in the classroom.

"But," Mr. Jeon knew there would be a 'but.'

"But," you had picked up on the beginning of his sentence. "It has a significant impact on the schedule and the learning - for some of the teachers, I mean. We know they are not trained teachers, and their teaching method is not yours. But honestly, sitting there, sometimes for more than four hours straight, without a break, listening to someone recite their PowerPoint, I'm telling you, it's not very interesting. You get tired of it after a while. I don't want to speak for my classmates, but for myself.

"And then," you had continued. "They choose the times that suit them, but not necessarily us. The break times are long - not that I'm complaining, but you have to understand that six hours of classes in a row at the end of the day after that long break demoralizes us a bit." As you spoke, Mr. Jeon wrote notes in his notebook.

"Okay, I'll take notes." He said as he put his thin round glasses back on his nose.

Mr. Jeon was dressed in white pants that hugged his muscular thighs perfectly. He also wore a loose white t-shirt. Over that, he wore a light blue blazer, while his feet were covered with thick, white-soled shoes. The sleeves of his blazer were rolled up at his elbows, giving you a good view of the tattoos on his right arm. It was the first time you had seen them clearly.

Usually, Mr. Jeon was careful to hide his tattoos during class. Only the ones on his right hand were visible. In addition, his hair was short at the bottom and a little longer at the top, split in the middle to show his forehead, making him even sexier.

Mr. Jeon was definitely the most attractive man in the world. That's why it was hard to follow his classes without having erotic and sometimes - many times - taboo ideas and visions. Every time you went to his classroom, you sat in the front row, unlike other classes where you sat in the back row. Too obvious? Sure. Did it bother you? No, not at all.

You spent half an hour reviewing all the points Mr. Jeon had prepared to discuss with you during your interview. He had made a few notes here and there to add to your file or just to remember to make changes later.

"Well, one more thing."

Your professor had taken off his glasses before putting them on the coffee table, along with his notepad. You didn't know how to explain it, but you could feel a change in the air. A tension had settled in the room in an instant. There was something different about Mr. Jeon, as if he was another person standing before you.

His facial expression had changed entirely from the man you were used to seeing before you, charming, friendly, and smiling, to a more, how could you say it? More severe and mysterious. His eyes had also changed. Deeper and darker, as you could see, his jaw - square and well-defined - contracted.

Mr. Jeon had changed his position in the chair. He had moved his body forward, resting his forearms on his thighs, using them for support. His gaze was intense. The kind of look that lights an ember in another. Not threatening, but a little intimidating. Your cheeks couldn't help but heat up. You couldn't even look in his direction lest he sees your condition.

"I've noticed that you seem distracted during my classes lately."

Stay calm, and everything will be fine.

"Since the holidays, you're less involved in the class. Not to mention that you seem to be somewhere else most of the time. Lost in your thoughts. Not to mention that you can't look at me without blushing."

Automatically, you raised your head to look at him. Your breath was caught in your throat. You did everything you could to regain control of it, but it seemed to have become an impossible mission. Especially since your heart had also started to disobey you and increase your heart rate.

You were hot. Autumn was on its way to winter, so the days had cooled down, and you had pulled the sweaters and jackets from the back of your closet. But you knew that the heat you felt had nothing to do with the layers of clothing you wore, but with the man sitting in front of you.

"Why are you acting like this, Miss Y/L/N?" What did he want you to say? By the way, sir, I've had a crush on you since freshman year. And to top it off, my roommate told me during this holiday that there is a good chance that you are an incubus. A demon of sexual lust. And this information had reached the point that I had an erotic dream with you. He would probably - no, definitely - think you were a pervert. There was no way you were going to tell him anything.

Seeing that you were still silent, Mr. Jeon spoke again. He knew very well what was happening in your mind during moments of absence. Much more than you knew.

"Is it at the waterfall? In the cave? In my office? Or in your room, in your vacation home?" He had said.

At that moment, everything stopped. Her brain had stopped working correctly. "How?" You were so shocked that you couldn't fully comprehend what was happening. He might have heard you telling Chung-Ae in the corridors or even during his lessons, but the thing was that all the intimate experiences you had with Mr. Jeon were your little secrets. You didn't tell anyone about them. So how could he know about those places?

"I know you know what I am, YN." The drastic change in your teacher's behavior stunned you. You didn't understand how everything had changed so quickly. "So say it. Say what I am." He had left his comfortable seat to kneel before you. "I want you to say it out loud while looking me straight in the eye."

You were still trying to figure out what was going on. But the question was: How did he find out?

His tattooed hand had found a home on your cheek. Coming to your senses, you finally dared to look him in the eye. "You-you're a demon." You had finally managed to say it, not without difficulty. A smile appeared on your teacher's lips. 

"Don't worry, I won't hurt you. You know what I am." Mr. Jeon not only wanted you to tell him what he was, but he wanted you to tell him precisely what kind of demon he was.

"You are an incubus." Your voice was so low that you doubted your teacher had heard you. Of course, he had heard you, but you didn't know it. And Mr. Jeon would tease you by asking you to repeat it a little louder, pretending he didn't hear you very well. "An incubus." You said a little higher.

"See. It wasn't that complicated." His thumb gently stroked your cheek as he laughed softly at your current state.

On the one hand, Mr. Jeon loved his power over you. Without doing anything - yet - he had control over you. You were so nervous before a predator, arousing his predatory instincts. A sexual predator. Because, like it or not, Mr. Jeon's nature was that of a sexual predator. This was the role that demons of his kind had to play. To feed on the fantasies and energies of pleasure-seeking humans.

"I'll tell you a secret." His face had come close to yours. The distance between your lips was the size of a hairline. "I know your deepest desires."

"I know you can't resist me. You get lost in thought during my classes, imagining the two of us doing inappropriate things." His thumb stopped moving against your cheek, giving way to his index finger, which slowly traced a path from your jaw to your throat to the top of the valley of your breasts.

Under your black leather jacket, you wore a soft white sweater with a low-cut neckline, but not too much. Just enough to show just enough. "I am a pleasure demon, YN. I feel the energy emanating from every person in my classroom. I can sense when someone is thinking erotic thoughts." Mr. Jeon had moved his face all the way into your neck. He went the same way as his finger a few seconds before, but the difference was that he had replaced his finger with his lips this time.

"You don't know how often I missed making you mine in front of all your classmates. I could barely concentrate and contain my excitement when I smelled the scent of your excitement between your legs. My erection pressed against the walls of my clothes. You could see it, I know. I could hear your dirty thoughts." He had lifted his head from the nape of your neck to look at you.

Taking your chin between his fingers, he shook his head and clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. "Naughty girl, as soon as you saw my excitement, you wanted me to take you hard right then and there, not caring if it shocked your peers. You wanted to be mine."

Then he sealed your lips. Electricity coursed through your entire body, like that night in your room during summer vacation. His lips were warm, soft, and delicious as in your dream. If it was a dream, you did not want to wake up. Finally, what you had been waiting for years was happening here and now. But it was not good. In fact, it was terrible.

This was your teacher, and you were just his student. This was not supposed to happen. Not that there was a law against a teacher-student relationship, but you knew what would happen if caught would be very unpleasant. So even though you cursed your conscience for deciding to be responsible and reasonable in a moment like this, you knew it was right.

You had put your hands on his chest, ready to push him away, but your teacher had growled before you had a chance to do so. "No," he had said as he broke your kiss momentarily before joining your lips again. This time the kiss was more demanding and more passionate. It was too late. You had crossed the thin line that separated your conscience from your recklessness. 

Come what may.

Finally deciding to surrender body and soul into the arms of your teacher, you wrapped your arms around his neck and joined in the kiss. For all the times he had held back from giving in to his desire to make you his, Mr. Jeon finally felt free and fulfilled.

But the best part would be when he had claimed and possessed you once and for all. All he had to do was to come inside you. To claim you, he had to paint the walls of your pussy with his seed. Once this is done, you will become one. You can communicate through the mind link, feeling and sensing what the other is feeling. And if you wish, Mr. Jeon would be willing to make you immortal.

Mr. Jeon had stood up and tipped you backward. You expected your back to hit the back of the couch, but it didn't. You found yourself with your back pressed against something soft and firm. You found yourself with your back pressed against something soft and strong simultaneously.

You were no longer sitting; you were lying down. As you broke the kiss with your teacher, you quickly looked around. You were no longer in Mr. Jeon's office, but in a room. It wasn't completely dark, but you didn't have enough light to see the room in detail.

"We're in my bedroom." Taking advantage of the fact that your saliva exchange had been interrupted, and without wasting any more time than you had already wasted, your lover hastily undressed you.

You gasped. Your mouth had dropped open at seeing his huge, thick, swollen cock, rock hard against his well-defined abs. Your contemplation and reaction to the sight of his member had flattered him and boosted his ego. If there was one thing Mr. Jeon was proud of in his physique, it was his genitals.

Being an incubus had something to do with it, but genetics had more to do with it. Your teacher came from a great line of Incubus, the first generation. Because he belonged to the first generation of incubi, Mr. Jeon had traits and powers that other incubi did not have.

His fingers gently penetrated you, eliciting a moan of pleasure from you. Your pussy was smooth and tight. His fingers had hit the perfect spot, making you gasp as you threw your head back. Your fingers had wrapped around your teacher's sheets.

The view before you was like the hottest scene you'd ever seen, not even on those hot nights with your teacher in your dreams. He was between your legs, raised and wide open, three fingers plunged into your pussy while his other hand was wrapped around his cock. He stroked himself gently to the beat of his fingers inside you.

His hand rubbed up and down his shaft, and it didn't take long for his pre-cum to be released. Clear, viscous fluid dripped off the swollen head of his cock before running down his shaft and making its way to his heavy, cum-filled balls.

"You see that, baby? That's because of you. This is how hard you make me, YN." He growled as he looked into your eyes. "Now I want you to lie down with your legs wide open while I taste your little pussy." He leaned forward and cupped your chin before plunging his lips to yours to kiss you hard. You moaned against his lips as your body liquefied while his thumb played with your clit.

You screamed as his mouth finally found the sensitive area between your thighs. His hot wet tongue trailed down your pussy, from your slit, until it hit your clit. Your hips bucked against his mouth as he grunted and moved his mouth against you. His tongue moved up and down, traveling between your slit and clit. Sometimes your lover would plunge his tongue into you, doubling your moans.

"Mr. Jeon." You screamed his name as his thumb touched your clit, and his tongue took refuge in your orifice again.

"Jungkook." Mr. Jeon - Jungkook - had looked at you when he corrected you. "My name is Jungkook, baby. Repeat after me, Jungkook." Jungkook didn't want to always have this student-teacher status at times like this. He wanted that soon, when you are no longer within the university's walls, you will be YN and Jungkook, not Miss Y/L/N and Mr. Jeon. A teacher and his student. But rather a demon and his mate.

"J-Jung Kook." You had moaned his name between moans. It was strange, you had never heard his first name, only his last name, and somehow his first name fit him perfectly.

"Good girl." Then he had plunged his mouth back into you when he was satisfied. His name leaving your mouth in a moan had made his cock even harder. It was a sound that would be etched in his memory forever. And God knew how good Jungkook's memory was.

He licked you hard while his thumb continued to work on your clit. His circular movements brought you to the brink of orgasm. If he continued like this, you would come soon. In fact, that was precisely what Jungkook was looking for. He wanted to make you come, to give you pleasure like never before.

He sensed that you were not far away, so Jungkook accelerated the movement, licking and teasing your clit to give you a little boost to your ecstasy. You moaned as your whole body shook on the mattress, rocking against his mouth, seeking more pleasure as you came.

"Oh fuck!" You had tried not to cum immediately, but his tongue and thumb worked wonders on your pussy.

He moaned, still with his mouth on your pussy. His hands held you to the mattress, while his shoulders undulated as he spread your thighs. He opened your thighs and ran his tongue over your pussy, licking your opening. Jungkook didn't want to waste anything. He swallowed every drop of your juices as they dripped from your hole. To ensure he'd swallowed everything, he moved his tongue up to your clit before swirling the tip of his wet muscle around your nerve ball. You threw your head back and screamed with pleasure, filling the room with your cries.

His tongue moved faster while his hands still held you in place. He moaned and grunted inside you as his lips closed around your clit again, sucking on it as his tongue swirled in a circle. You had exploded a second time, and Jungkook had gotten what he wanted, your wetness that he had rushed to swallow.

"That's very good, baby." Your body was convulsing from the intense pleasure Jungkook had given you. Your breathing was fast, and your head was spinning. But there was no time to recover from the shimmering orgasm as Jungkook took over your lips again.

"I'm proud of you, honey." His hand had cupped your breast and sucked on your nipple. "But I'm not finished with you." He had said softly.

Standing at the foot of the bed, he motioned for you to join him, which you did. "Now it's my turn, baby. Take me in your mouth."

You had opened your mouth as he caressed your lips with the hot, bulbous head of his big, long cock. Jungkook tilted his head back with a moan and pushed his cock past your wet lips. You moaned around it, swirling your tongue around its length. You sensed a salty and sweet taste as you ran the tip of your tongue over the opening of his large glans.

Unable to get it all in your mouth, you used your hand to fill the gap. Your hand pumped Jungkook's massive cock as you continued to swirl your tongue around his cock. Looking up, you saw that Jungkook's head was thrown back, his eyes tightly closed, and his mouth open. You loved the feeling of control, having the power over his pleasure. But that pleasure was short-lived because Jungkook had undressed.

Jungkook grabbed you by the shoulders before throwing you onto the mattress; without wasting any time, he quickly found his way back between your legs. You felt him play with your pussy, rubbing the large head of his glans along your dripping slit. He looked at you with a mischievous smile on his delicious lips. Jungkook would deliberately graze your clit as he slid down your slit, making you moan and lose your mind. Then, once his tip was sufficiently lubricated with your juices, you'd feel pressure on your slit, spreading it around his red, swollen head.

"Open up for me, baby. Let me feel that tight little pussy open up for me." He continued to push the rest of his cock into you. "Feel your pussy stretch for me, baby. It feels good, doesn't it?" He was on top of you, using his arm to support his weight and not crush you. "Just imagine how good it will feel when I'm all the way in."

With a low moan, Jungkook rocked his hips forward, making you scream as half of his cock slid inside you, stretching you further. He continued to thrust every last inch, and you had moaned in pleasure when Jungkook had grunted low, his face grim.

"Fuck, baby, your pussy is the perfect combination of silk and velvet." He had whispered as he leaned in to kiss you. "You were made to take every inch of my cock. To take every drop of cum in my balls." His dirty words, moans, and grunts made you moan yourself. And the throbbing of his cock inside you didn't help.

Your cries and moans of pleasure filled the room. The soft, wet, dirty sounds of your two sexes meeting oozed into Jungkook's ears and made his blood boil. Your hot little pussy swallowed him repeatedly, swallowing his cock every time he pulled out of you. Jungkook's fiery words made your pussy tighten around his cock. It made the desire grow deep in both of you.

You kissed his bulging biceps softly, enveloping you in a protective bubble. He was everywhere. Around and inside you, protecting you from the outside world. His lips tasted yours in a slow, deep kiss, mimicking the movements of his hips. Your hands went to his hair, your fingers tangling in the thick strands as you surrendered to the pleasure.

"Fuck, YN," he had moaned. "I'm going to fill that tight little pussy with my cum. Do you want that? Do you want my cum to fill your tight little pussy until it leaks out?"

You were ready to accept, to take everything he had to offer. You were about to climax, knowing he was at the same point. His cock throbbing in your pussy told you so. But now you needed him to move inside you, increasing the pace of his hip movements.

"You need to feel me move inside you, don't you? You need to feel me taking over your body as I make you mine?" You didn't have the strength to answer him with words, so you started to wriggle underneath him. Furthermore, you let your hips meet while Jungkook was still buried inside you.

"I like the way you squirm for me."

Taking your wishes into consideration, Jungkook increased his speed. You clung to each other as if your lives depended on it. Jungkook worked for both of you, looking for your pleasure, and soon he had found it. Your pussy tightened around his cock, making Jungkook's movements impossible. Your head was thrown back, buried in the pillow, while Jungkook's head was buried in the hollow of your neck. His balls emptied their fluids into you, painting your walls with his thick, white semen.

"You're mine now, baby." Jungkook had moaned into your ear. "No one else will be able to take you away from me. I promise to protect you with everything I have and everything I am. My life belongs to you, and yours belongs to me in return." He had kissed you breathlessly. The kiss was soft and slow, but deep and full of feeling.

You finally got what you wanted for so long. Jungkook, on the other hand, had found what he had been searching for, for too long. His partner. Now you would be visited by your favorite personal Incubus, and not just in the middle of the night in your dreams.

n.a : I hope you enjoy this short story as much as I do. To make sure you don't miss the progress of the chapters as well as their release, don't forget to check out the Working on and Updates section, where you'll find not only updates on "Middle of the Night", but also other stories and "One Shots" that you'll probably enjoy as well. Also, don't forget to check out the Masterlist, you'll probably find something for you among my other stories in progress and those to come.

If you enjoyed the chapter, please consider buying me a coffee.

[xoxiu]

autumn outside the post office - jin x reader

chapter three table of contents masterlist

join the taglist

≪ how long will beautiful things last? ≫

summary: it wasn't your fault that dr. kim was the most beautiful man you've ever seen. falling for him was entirely your fault, however. first semester at college and you're already dreaming of a student/professor relationship- so naughty and against the code of conduct. you like the thrill, though.

tags/warnings: smut, teacher!jin, college au, cute yet forbidden romance, daddy dom!jin, love triangles, frat boys jungkook and taehyung, age regression, age play, ddlg, spanking, eating disorders, mental health, first love, exhibitionism, lots of blowjobs, age gap

It was a downpour of rain while you waited for the bus. Everyone around you remained somewhat dry under their umbrellas, except for you. You were the dumbass who didn't have an umbrella. Alas, you had to brave the elements and hope you didn't get sick the next day.

The rain was so thick, you couldn't make out any of your surroundings. The post office across the street was just a blur, and the police office wall you leaned against was your only marker indicating you were at the right location. Car headlights shined brightly, reflecting off the water on the road. It was all quite calming, except for the fact that you were freezing and wet.

Thankfully, the bus came slightly before its scheduled time. You scurried on and took the closest available seat. Your sweatshirt stuck to your body as if it were glued on as you tried to remove it. Eventually, you managed to remove it, feeling less like a trapped wet dog.

The bus ride was 45 minutes to the main campus. Quickly, you ran to Hanson Hall with your sweatshirt over your head, trying to protect yourself from the rain. Of course, it did nothing. But it was better than nothing.

You arrived inside and immediately entered one of the giant lecture halls. You always sat in the back near the aisle for easy access to the exit. Chemistry was long and boring, so you took frequent 'bathroom breaks' whenever things got too slow.

Shuffling around in your backpack, you found your student ID for attendance. You went to the front of the lecture hall and scanned in, the teacher assistant smiling at you as you did so.

"Good morning, y/n," he said. He sat at the table where the card reader was, the professor standing at the podium only a few feet away. You liked the TA, Taehyung, and often saw him hanging out in your hall with Jimin. He always had an infectious smile on his face.

"Good morning!" You cheerfully replied before heading back up the stairs to your seat. You were rather early to class- students from the previous class were still piling out of the lecture hall. That didn't bother you too much, as you used the few minutes to catch up on emails on your phone.

One email caught your eye. It was from Dr. Kim, reminding the class about his office hours today. You completely forgot about stopping by to see him today. Thankfully, it was still a few hours until the designated time, so you didn't feel too bad about forgetting. As you scrolled through your inbox, you kept fantasizing about having that one-on-one time with Seokjin.

Class ended a few minutes late, at ten minutes to 1 pm rather than fifteen. That didn't bother you, it just meant less time to wait for Dr. Kim's office hours. As you exited the lecture hall, a loud crack of thunder echoed throughout the building. It was still storming outside. Lucky for you, you could get to Seokjin's office through the skywalks connecting Hanson Hall, the computing building, and the humanities building. It was quite the walk between the three buildings, so you would arrive perfectly on time.

You listened to your music as you walked through the buildings, trying your best to stick in with the other students heading for class. No one ever stopped and talked to each other in the busy halls, everyone rushed to the classes or stood along the walls waiting for the previous class to dismiss. It was nice, you thought, as it eliminated the bullshit that happened in the halls of your high school.

Finally, you arrived at Dr. Kim's office on the third floor of the humanities building. Taking a deep breath, you softly knocked on the metal door.

"Come in!"

You tried to tone down your happiness and excitement as you opened the door. Seokjin sat at his desk, staring intently at his laptop, wearing his eyeglasses. He gestured for you to sit on the chair opposite him, and you did as instructed. His office was filled with books- bookshelves surrounded his office that were filled with books amongst other knick-knacks. Next to your chair was a beanbag chair, and on the other side of you was a dog bed. Did Seokjin have a dog? He seemed more like a cat person. Another chair was located next to Seokjin's own, but it was currently stacked with papers.

"Ah, y/n. Thanks for stopping by," Seokjin leaned back in his chair with a smile. He stared you up and down with half-lidded eyes. You felt as if he was mentally undressing you. Blushing, you shuffled in your seat under his gaze.

"Hi, Dr. Kim. I just had a few questions about some things."

"Hmm, is that so?" You squirmed in your seat, mouth slightly parted in a pout. Seokjin was making it quite obvious- he was interested in you. Or maybe you were just projecting your own lust onto him. What you couldn't doubt were the wandering eyes as Dr. Kim looked you up and down.

"So, you, uh, mentioned that women wrote many works during the Joseon period. I was just curious as to what they wrote about," Seokjin nodded and smiled as you spoke, intrigued by your question. He cleared the papers off the chair next to him, placing them on top of another stack on his desk.

"Come sit over here. We'll look together."

You quickly moved over to the little yellow chair, desperate to get closer to him. He fiddled around on his keyboard, typing eloquently in Korean. You understood nothing that was on the screen, making you wonder why he wanted you to change location. Once he stopped typing, finding the website he was looking for, you looked up to see his face.

He looked very happy, almost excited to share his knowledge with you. It made you feel giddy inside- you were the one making him feel this way.

"Many of the women writers were royal and noble women. They wrote down details of their daily life, private thoughts, and personal situations. And then there were female storytellers. They didn't write down their stories, only told them orally. I found a few I'd like to translate for you."

You listened as he read off a poem in Korean. His voice sounded so soothing and beautiful as he spoke, so animated and passionate. Your heart fluttered with every word and syllable- and you thought you couldn't be more infatuated with him.

"Who'd say I'm not a beauty enough, and I'm good with a needle and loom," Seokjin began translating the poem, his voice just as silky and sultry as before. You felt him shuffle in his seat next to you, scooting his chair closer to you.

"But for I come from a poor family, no good matchmaker will see me," At this point, you weren't even paying attention to his words, only the cadence as he spoke. Looking up at him, you saw his beautiful dark brown eyes behind his glasses. They were so, so dark, but this close up you could see the tint of amber brown.

"Weaving without pause into the night, the loom sobs with cold clicks, the swathe of silk on the loom shall make some lucky lady's clothes," An arm snaked around your shoulders. Seokjin's hand rested on your shoulder furthest from him, embracing you in his warmth.

At that moment, your fate was sealed. In your heart, you knew Seokjin wanted you just as much as you wanted him. You thought back to your previous two class sessions with him, and couldn't help but remember the way his eyes would always linger on you a bit longer than normal. When you looked down to write your notes or read a handout, you felt his eyes watching you. It all made sense now.

"But with the scissors in hand, my ten fingers grow stiff this cold night-"

In a blaze of passion, you turned and held Seokjin's face in your hand, turning it ever so slightly to face you. You closed your eyes, giving him a gentle and passionate kiss on his lips. His eyes grew wide in surprise, backing away from the kiss.

You panicked- was this not what he wanted? Maybe he didn't like you, and he just had a very flirtatious personality. Fearful, your eyes widened as well as you lowered your hand. Apologies spilled from your mouth, only to be hushed by his mouth back on yours.

The kiss deepened, his hands reaching towards your bottom, massaging it roughly before picking you up. He placed you onto his lap, never breaking the kiss, and you now straddled him. Eventually, Seokjin pulled away, both of you breathless.

"Dr. Kim, I-" you spoke first, trying to further apologize as embarrassment overcame you. You sat on your literature professor's lap- this was not normal.

"God, you're fucking beautiful," he placed his forehead against yours, giving you another quick peck on the lips. "I've been waiting for this, y/n. I'm so glad you took the initiative."

He brushed a hand through your hair, admiring your soft curls from the rain. He took a moment to take in the sight of you. Your red face, plump red lips, and glassy brown eyes. Perfect and disheveled, just for him.

A knock on his office door made you jump. Both of you quickly turned towards the door, hoping whoever was out there didn't barge in.

"Just a moment!" Seokjin called out. He looked back at you with a smile, making no attempt to remove you from his lap. One last peck on the lips, and you removed yourself from him.

You straightened out your clothes and grabbed your bag, giving a quick goodbye before exiting his office. On the other side of the door was Cara, who looked equally as surprised as you.

"y/n, I didn't take you as the type of student to come to office hours!" Cara said, her voice leaking with fake niceties. "I guess you should be going, huh?"

The evil, jealous glare on her face was evident, hidden behind the mask of faux happiness. She knew what you were up to because she was trying to be the same way. She shoved past you, giving Dr. Kim a pretty smile.

As you went to close the door, you took notice of Cara's outfit. She wore a white button-up blouse with a little black bow and a black skirt that rode up to mid-thigh as she sat down. Her shirt, however, was completely wet. It was now see-through, allowing everyone to see her little pink lace bra, and how her boobs spilled over in them. You gave one last glance to Dr. Kim, who now gave his attention to Cara.

Dr. Kim was a hot commodity.

[hobaworld7]

KNJ - Teach me - pt2

pairing : reader x namjoon / unistudent!reader x teacher!namjoon / bestfriend taehyung, maybe he's in love with the reader, he doesn't know yet -and neither do i lol-

genre : forbidden relationship, teacher and uni student relationship, all consensual, both mature and over 21. the reader is a v!rg!n and kinda innocent. really a slowburn, it start to get into the real thing tho in this chapter. some romantic rapprochement you know winkwink

word count : almost 3k

warning : don't hookup with your teacher plz, this is just fiction, just don't do it okay AHHAHA

summary : NamJoon is a new teacher and you are the student president. He notices you after being late a few times in a month and he's trying to get your attention. You both feel an attraction but this is forbidden so you try to forget about it.

a/n : i could write a whole book just with the inspiration that turtleneck-namjoon is giving me. enjoy army. okay i'm lowkey really proud about where this story is going. it will have more then two part.

disclaimer : pictures from pinterest / namjoon isn't mine / just an imagine

READ PART ONE HERE

_ _ _

''Hum, hey, I don't know who you are but Y/N just collapse in my arms, completely drunk. I saw your number on the back of her phone. Are you her boyfriend? Anyways, could you come get her. Her friends are all gone or fast asleep. Here is the address.''

Namjoon wasn't asleep yet. It was past midnight but he was relaxing while watching his favorite show on the couch. His cellphone was on the table in front of him, facing the wood. He was surprise to hear it buzzed at this hour. The thought of you needing him was enough to jump off the couch and grab it.

He read the text and got up to go grab some shirt to cover his naked chest before grabbing his key and leave his apartment. It was only fifteen minutes away. He put on some music and check his phone while driving to be sure you were still okay. When he arrives in front of the house, he grab a hat and some sunglass so the students doesn't recognize him. He turn off his car and walk to the door. Hearing the loud music, he understood that the party was till going on for a few of them. It was strange to see his student drunk and high, dancing or sleeping every where they could find a comfy corner. He recognize Taehyung on the couch, sleeping, the mouth open, completely black out. He walk around the house, to find you sitting outside, near the pool. He rushes over you.

-Namjoonie oppaaaaa. You're hereee.

You difficulty get up and tried to put your hand around his neck but the alcohol was quite running into your body so you loose balance. He rushes over you and wrap his hands around your hips and you fell against his chest. The sound of your laugh made his heart skipped a beat. Even your laugh was more than beautiful. You rest your dizzy head against him.

-I think, I think, I may have drink a littleee too much oppaaa.

A little chuckle leaves his lips. He help you stand up straight and walk you toward his car.

-I'm gonna bring you home okay? Can you tell me your address?

-Oppaaa, do you think I'm pretty? Because I think you are really sexyy. Oops, I think I shouldn't be saying things like that. But you now, Mr.Kim, when I see your arms though your shirt when you teach us, makes me want to take private lessons with you.

He stops his walk to look at you. You cheeks were burning red because of the alcohol and you were laughing uncontrollably. He had to take a deep breath and remembering you were drunk.

Since his first day teaching your class he notices you. The student president, always studying, these cute glasses on the point of your nose, the way your skirt was revealing your thigh when you cross your legs, everything about you made him crazy. He tried telling himself that he was a teacher and couldn't think that way. The age-gap wasn't too big and the way you were looking at him earlier this day. He had to take a hot and long shower as soon he got home, making sure to pleasure himself a bit because he couldn't get you out of his head. Since he was a responsable adult so he won't try anything on you tonight, but your confession made his heart skip a beat.

He helps you sit in the car and buckle your belt so you stay safe under his responsibility. You finally gave him your adresse and he was surprise to heard you were living alone.

-My dad left when I was young. It was only my mom and I but she got sick last year and died this summer. I was able to stay at this school since my situation but had to moved out on the other side of the city. That is why I was late quite a few times.

Your drunken confession surprises him. You shaky hand grab his.

-I'm alone. I'm alone and no one notice. Not even my friends.

You leaned your head on the window, keeping his hand in yours, fidgeting with his finger, lost in your thoughts. The more he drives, the more he realize you weren't living in a particularly safe neighbourhood. He let out your hand once he was park in front of your apartment building. You stumble out of his car, your sickness taking over your drunkness. You fell on your knees. He rushes out to reach you in time to grab your hair before you throw up on the street.

-That's... That's embarrassing.

You let out a little laugh and he grabs a napkin to wipe the corner of your lips.

-Y/N, are you okay to go inside or you need help?

-I think I-I can do it.

You get up but end up stumbling in your own feet. He grabs your arms, saving you once again to fall.

-I'll help you. Here, lay on me.

He put his arm around your waist and notice that you knee were scratch, bleeding a bit. He helps you into your apartment and once you're able to unlock the door, he enters with you. You were living in a small studio, not luxurious but it was comfy enough for you. You stumble to your bed and lay on it, your back on the soft comforter. NamJoon stays in the entryway. He'll just help you getting in bed and leave after, he told himself. He took off his shoes and walk towards you, kneeling in front of you. He gently took off your heels and put them by the door. He walk his way to the kitchen, wetting a tablecloth and walking back to you. You were already fast asleep. He gently rub your hurt knees and made sure to clean the scratches so it won't get infected. Finally, he put one of his arm around your back and the other under your knees so he could get you comfortable under the comforter. Once he was sure you were okay with a glass of water and an empty bucket on your night stand, he lock the door and went back to his place. He was happy knowing you were safe in your bed.

***

On Monday morning, you were fully recover of your hangover. You did, indeed, remember everything that happen with Namjoon and the anxiety to see him today had keep you up all night. You put on your uniform and seeing the scratch on your knees, you decided to put on some knee-long socks to cover them. You grab your bag and left your apartment at 5 in the morning, making sure to not be late to class. Once you arrive at school you stop at the coffee shop and grab yourself breakfast and a coffee. Before leaving you thought about your teacher and decide to go back so you can buy him something to drink and eat as a way to say thank you for helping you Friday night. You weren't starting with his class, you had it at the end of the day, but you still walk in and put the food and coffee on his desk, writing a little note, signing with only your initial so others don't get suspicious.

The day went well, you were a little tired but the insane amount of caffeine you drink kept you up for the day. It was time for your last class. Namjoon's class. You joined your friends for the break and Taehyung wrap his arm around your waist.

-Sorry I couldn't get you home safely Friday. Were you able to get home safe?

-Yeah, I-I called an Uber and went home. And you?

-I woke up Saturday morning still buzzed but yeah.

Your friends laugh and you lay your head on Tae's shoulder, trying to get some rest before your last class start. He gently stroke your hair.

-Hey Y/N, what's with the sock? You never wore them. One of your girl friend said.

-I fell Friday night, my knees are all scratched.

You let out a little laugh and Taehyung put his hand on your thighs, putting down your sock a bit to see the state of your knees. They were still red and sore. Your teacher walks in front of you and you friends at this moment. Your cheeks went red and you rapidly put your sock back up.

-Mr.Kim is so hot right? I wish we could fucked our teacher without consequence.

You turn over to the friend that said that, surprise by her speech.

-Are-Are you serious right now? You want to fuck your teacher?

Your cheek start to burn a little but your friends didn't seem to notice the redness.

-Come on Y/N, every one had that fantasy at least once with a teacher!

Before you could answer, the bell rang, alerting you to start walking to your class. You say bye to your other friends but Taehyung stays by your side since you were in the same class. His arms around your waist, you enter the class. You could feel NamJoon's look on you. He let out a little cough and you took this sign to get away from Taehyung and sit at your designated place. Taehyung went to the back. The class went well. He started by teaching some grammar rules and after that you had an hour to work on an essay. You wrote almost half of it when you decide to lay your head on your desk to rest your eyes a bit. Unexpectedly, you quickly fall asleep.

The bell rings to notice the teacher and student that it was the end of the class. Before Taehyung could wake you up, Namjoon tell him to get closer so he could talk to him.

-I'm not leaving yet, I'll let her sleep a bit. I need to talk to her about the correction she did last week anyways. You can go.

He bowed respectfully and left the class. It was only you too now. As he said he let you sleep for an hour. He finished all your work and decide to come wake you up. He pulls a chair near your desk and at the tip of his finger, put your hair behind your ears. You mumble something in your sleep. He let out a little laugh and weakly say,

-Hey sleeping beauty, it's time to wake up now it's already 5pm.

You open your eyes, blinking a few time to adjust to the light. NamJoon continue stroking your hair.

-Did you sleep well? You fell asleep during class. Is your draft done? I need to take it and correct it tonight.

You look at the paper to see it only half done. You look up to NamJoon who has now lay back in his chair, crossing his arms on his chest. You bit your lips, staring at him in the eyes.

-Hum, if you can give me half an hour, I can get it done.

-Mh, perfect, I'll be at my desk.

He smiles and get up before walking to his chair. He sits down and start working on his computer for the next thirty minutes. When you finish your draft, you get up and walk to his desk. You stop in front of it and hold out your draft. He looks up and take your essay.

-Y/N, come here. He gave you a sign to come next to him.

You walk around and stop when your a few step away from his desk. He turns towards you and grab your hand, pulling you closer.

-Sit on the desk, Y/N.

-W-Why?

-I wanna look if you knees are healing right.

You hesitantly sit on the desk. He closes his laptop and put it away. You weren't in front of him and he didn't like that idea. He wanted you the nearest he could. He put his hand on your thigh and pull you towards him. You clench your legs together, your body heating up at the sensation of his hand on you.

-Can I look?

You nod and he slowly put down one of your sock after another. His finger slightly rubbing the side of your legs. A spasm runs trough your legs. He let out a little chuckle, proud to see you react under his touch.

-Are you okay Y/N?

-Hum, yes, I'm really okay Mr.Kim- Namjoon.

His eyes were still locked on your legs.

-And is it okay if I do this?

He slowly moves his hand up your bare thigh. A shiver runs through your body and you let out a little yes. He put up your skirt a bit and lean toward you to kiss the bare skin of your thigh. A little whimper get out of your lips out of surprise. The tension was heating up the room. He put his other hand on your left thigh. He slips his other hand between your legs to spread them a little. He looks up to your face. You were biting your lips, trying to control the sound that could possibly get out of your throat.

-N-No one ever touch me like this N-NamJoon.

-You've never been touched before Y/N?

You shyly nod your head.

-Tell me then if you want me to stop okay?

-O-Okay.

He wanted to devour you. Kiss all the part of your body and tear off all of your clothes so he could see your pretty naked body right now. He needed to be patient. He wanted to be gentle and not scared you off, especially with the confidence you just did. He was pleased to know he was the first man touching you, and he wanted it to mean something for you.

He put one of his hands around your waist and pull you so you could sit on his lap. When you suddenly feel his muscular thigh under yours, a little moan get out of your mouth. His hand then gently went up your back, leaving a trail of shivers against your spine. He finally grab the back of your neck, so he could pull your face closer to him. He smiles at the sight of your blushing cheek and put his lips against yours in a heated kiss. Your arms wrapping his neck, leaning closer to him to feel his chest against yours. You were hungry for his presence and his touch. His other hand were caressing your inner thigh, making your body shiver under his touch. He slowly rub his thumb on the already wet fabric of your painty. A spasm of pleasure crosses your body and you lean your forehead in the crook of his neck, letting out a little moan. You were so fragile between his hands and under his touches. He wanted to take you right here; right now. But it wasn't safe on a Monday might to fuck a student here. Especially not you since you already showed him how sensible you were under his touch. His hand then subtly reach your hips and rubbed circles on your waist as his mouth travel to your neck, kissing and slightly bitting your skin.Your eyes travel along his arms, silently admiring the way his muscle was shaped in his shirt, angling your head up towards him. You roll your hips on his crotch, feeling his moan vibrating against your skin.

-We can't- We can't continue this here baby.

Against his wishes, he distants himself a little so he can look at you in your eyes. His hands caressing your cheek.

-Not tonight, not here. They are still a lot of personal working, especially on Monday night.

You heard a knock on the door, thankfully Namjoon locked it and closes the blind subtly at the end of the class. He put his index up against your lips, giving you the order to stay silent.

-Yes, give me a minute, 'coming.

He lean towards you and whisper in your ears.

-Go to your desk and work on your essay. And straighten your skirt baby girl.

He helps you get off his laps and gently smack your ass before you go sit at your desk, pretending working on your essay. He walk to the door and open it.

-Sorry I have a student redoing today's assignment, is it important?

You subtly heads up to see the principal in the doorframe.

-No it's not, just wanted to remember you about the teacher's reunion tomorrow night. Work well Y/N.

He smiles at you and you bowed your head to the director. He left the class and Namjoon closes the door.

-Get your things baby girl, I'll drive you home, it's getting late.

_ _ _

SEE YOU AGAIN IN PART 3!

[respectthepetty]

Upcoming Taiwanese BLs

We are over halfway through 2024, and as usual, I've only had two Taiwanese BLs (Unknown, Anti Reset), so even though I'm sitting on a stack of BLs to watch every single week from other countries, call me Smaug because I need MORE!

Honorary Korean BL: Uncovering the Curse of Taekwondo (2024)

Former friends (and possibly lovers) reunite at a funeral after going their separate ways for over a decade, but, honestly, I don't care about the plot because this comes from Hwang Da Seul who was behind Blueming, To My Star, and Where Your Eyes Linger, so I know it's going to be amazing. There is a movie and a series version, and the movie already premiered at the Bucheon International Fantastic Film Festival in South Korea at the beginning of July. The runtime was 154 minutes, but the series is eight episodes around thirty minutes each and is currently seeking distribution.

First Note of Love (August 2024)

My most beloved, Charles Tu, from my favorite BL HIStory 4: Close to You is finally returning to me in the form of a washed-up singer who stepped away from the spotlight due to a tragic event only to be dragged back in by an up-and-coming composer who is also a longtime fan. It is a joint production with Thailand's Star Hunter Entertainment (the company behind Big Dragon, Love Senior, City of Stars, and Sunset x Vibes) and features a side couple of a Thai singer and a Taiwanese agent. It will involve singing, but I'm already too comfortable in my seat with my snacks to care.

Fragrance of the First Flower Season 2 (2024)

The lone GL holding down this list finished filming late last year and Gagaoolala has been releasing BTS images since filming began, so it'll likely land there once it is released. The series is a continuation of the 2021 first season, which people were not thrilled about because of the ending, so this season should solve some of the angst we were left with by exploring the two women actually coming together to navigate life as a couple.

The Only One (August 2024)

Directed by Liu Kuang Hui, who directed Your Name Engraved Herein, written by the same folks behind The Untamed, and based on Mu Su Li's novel A Certain Someone which is about two boys whose parents are dating and move in together, so the mains go from enemies-to-??? and the only reason for the question marks on a Taiwanese BL is because the word on these BL streets (and his MDL page) is one of the actors works heavily in China, so this might be the reason this one has been was in limbo even though filming finished earlier this year, but the socials are still posting it's coming this year.

See Your Love (Filming Complete)

This co-production with Japan is about a rich man who falls in love with his hearing-impaired caregiver. It finished filming at the end of May and will have those sweet sweet Taiwanese BL cameos from some Be Loved in House: I Do and Plus and Minus folks PLUS it will be the first cameos for the Kiseki: Dear to Me guys since the company that produced their show is the same one for this show.

Impression of Youth (Filming Complete)

Very little is known about the plot of this teacher-student romance, but it comes from the same folks who produced DNA Says Love You and one of the mains, Muji Hsu, was also the lead in 2020's Because of You. Filming finished at the end of May, and the company stated it would be out before the end of the year.

Islanders (late 2024/early 2025)

This is based on a novel, Islands, by Lolita Hu, features some well known Taiwanese actors, and for a bit was under the name Sea of Intimacy. It's being presented as an 'older BL' but the MDL summary is sparse of the BL-plot: Hung, a successful entrepreneur, has three intimate relationships: his wife, his mistress, and his girlfriend. The lives of these individuals in their 20s, 30s, 40s, and 50s are intertwined because of romance, but their story extends beyond that. When Hung faces criticism on social media and loses everything, the way they react tells us how they see the world.

Wishing Upon the Shooting Star & The Young Gangster (2025)

These two deal with completely different plots but are together because of one reason: Ray Jiang. He is the director for these two and was the director for Unknown, My Tooth Your Love, and We Best Love. The companies behind them have stated the series are coming next year, but the guess is Ray's busy schedule is part of the hold up since he has a Netflix series in the works and apparently a film featuring Sam Lin (We Best Love) on the way. The Young Gangster is based on a novel and deals with a research assistant gathering information on the mafia (and we know how the mafia works in BLs), while Shooting Star deals with a man wishing that nobody notices him once he returns to his hometown after being fired. The wish backfires and nobody recognizes him, not even his dad or the boy he confessed to in high school! BL Mafia, Sideways Wishes, and Ray Ray are my favorite types of snacks!

Pray in Love (2025?)

A police officer falls in love with a man only to realize that man is the son of a prominent leader on the day of his arranged wedding in which he was hired as security for the event. The series already released a short film of the basic premise for fundraising efforts and festival rounds. Apparently, filming has started on the series, but there is no concrete confirmation from the production company.

Eternal Butler (2025)

Edited to add thanks to @cankersoregirl! This is a sequel to VBL's Anti Reset and began filming in early July. It focuses on Ever 4 who is sent to be a bodyguard for a young rich man only to encounter a rebellious man.

That Year, 162 Rainfalls (In Production?)

Is this a movie? Is it a series? Is it happening?! Who knows, but last year, it finally got funding and a director attached to it, but the real kicker is Lin Pei Yu is the screenwriter, and she is the writer behind all of my favorite Taiwanese BLs: We Best Love, HIStory 3: Trapped, My Tooth Your Love, Kiseki: Dear to Me, and so much more. Basically, the company struck gold getting her for this story about two archers and best friends. One gets confessed to but admits he actually is in love with his best friend, but before love can happen, the best friend has an accident and falls into a coma. It is based on a novel of the same name, and the plot is way more hefty than this, but I know Lin Pei Yu will make it work!

Four Seasons (Pre, Pre, PRE-Production?)

This is supposed to be four different stories focusing on different seasons, and is rumored to be VBL's next group of shows since the company has stated it wants to continue its formula from last year of releasing slightly connected shows. VBL/Vidol was behind Stay by My Side, VIP Only, You Are Mine, and Anti Reset. Winter is about a scrooge CEO and a florist who is hired to decorate for the CEO's Christmas event. Spring is about two boys meeting on a bus and falling in love over music. Summer is about a market owner and a chef falling in love over food. Autumn is about two former best friends seeing each other ten years after graduating and exploring their hometown together.

Connecting to You (Pre-Production?)

It seems to have gotten funding, but it's been quiet since which isn't surprising because when it comes to Taiwanese BLs, nothing is really heard until filming begins or even after it ends. I still have my hopes high because this is *THE* BL for me as it deals with a man who can see colored threads connecting people and one day runs into a policeman whose thread connects to him. The thread between them begins to change color, from silver-grey to yellow, representing friendship, and even to red, representing love. If I have to sell an organ or two to fund this myself, I. Will. Do. It. I NEED THIS!

And this wouldn't be a Petty Post if I didn't include this final one:

HIStory 15: Freed (GIVE IT TO ME!)

I don't care if this a long shot. I don't care if I seem crazy always asking for this. I. Deserve. It. HIStory 3: Trapped ended with our best mafia boy in prison, and it's time he got out! The HIStory franchise has not had a series since 2022's HIStory 5: Love in the Future, and although there have been rumors that a HERstory story might be next, I think bringing back a popular story would be just as good. I will ask for this every chance I can until I get it, and I plan on living a long life, so I got time!

[simp4eshal]

main masterlist

Masterlist

Criminal minds

daddy issues (aaron x reader)

mornin sweetheart (spencer x reader) smut !!

we fell in love in october (spencer x reader)

Yes ma'am (spencer x reader) suggestive !!

The boy is mine (spencer x reader masterlist)

Reassurance (spencer x reader) suggestive !!

As your husband, I declare you mine (spencer x reader) smut !!

Solace (spencer x reader)

If being lovable was a crime (spencer x reader) suggestive !!

BTS

Have you ever tried this one? (Taehyung x reader c jungkook) smut!!

Ryd (seokjin x reader) smut !!

ocean's laments (taehyung x oc/reader)

"she’s a maneater" masterlist suggestive !!

2022 masterlist

Death herself was a beauty part 2 suggestive !!

Death herself was a beauty

Others 

Aaron Taylor Johnson x reader - Your lips my lips, apocalypse

Count Vronsky x reader - Ballroom - Anna Karenina smut !!

Anakin Skywalker x reader- Silent treatment - Star Wars

Teacher x student imagine smut !!

OC x reader - Baby you're the meanest - (childish gambino inspired) smut !!

kiss kiss xx

(the art is not mine)

[perfectlyoongi]

THE NUMBERS BETWEEN US

ㅤ↬┊synopsis ... you had a little habit that had been with you since you were little: you loved to count, everything. but when yoongi went to visit his future university and left you alone in the city, this little habit became more addictive.

ㅤ⚘.fandom ... bts. ㅤㅤಇ.ft. ... yoongi x gn!reader. ㅤ⚘.genre ... long-shot. ㅤㅤಇ.content ... fluff, pre-college!au, kinda ocd reader, shy best friends with feelings. ㅤㅤಇ.word count ... 4.2k. ㅤ⚘.cole's note ... dont ask how and why i thought of this, i dont have an answer for u lol i hope u like it tho ♡

You had a little fascination with numbers.

Since you were little, you felt involved in the tender and delicate lines of numbers, finding a little pleasure in counting everything that surrounded you, everything you did, everything you said.

Your life was a routine that revolved around infinite numbers. It was all you knew and it was all you needed. Every day you ate exactly four slices of apple and two cookies and drank a glass of milk; before leaving the house, you always gave your mother two kisses and, when you came home from school, you hugged your father for exactly three seconds. It was all a routine that had been created for a long time and that you couldn’t break.

Numbers have always been important to you, captivating you in the complexity of the vast numerical world since you were little, always leaving you enchanted by their magic.

However, as you grew up, you realized that a lifetime dedicated to numbers and routines was quite complicated – and painful.

Your first heartbreak was when you turned eleven: the typical hug and three seconds with your father had turned into a bitter touching of arms that couldn’t even reach the first second. It was a small disappointment, your first, but it was the only one you needed to start seeing the world in a different way. Maybe numbers aren’t that important after all.

So, even before you entered high school, you had already stopped counting how many steps you took to school, how many minutes you remained silent in class, how many ‘kids’ your teacher said. You believed that now, free from your habit, you could have a normal life, a life that would expand with your enrollment at the university.

However, in your first year of high school, you met Min Yoongi.

In a room full of students, the probability of you pairing up with the new student was a little low, but, perhaps due to your numerical history, the odds were in your favor and, in an English class, you and Min Yoongi met for the first time.

Yoongi’s cordiality invited you to get to know him better. Amid study sessions, a friendship between you began to slowly germinate; your English work was finished almost immediately, but that didn’t stop Yoongi from continuing to send you messages through texts – he always felt more comfortable behind a screen.

The complicity that was created between you and Yoongi was something unusual for you, something you didn’t know how to deal with. In a certain way, you felt that the seed planted by Yoongi in the middle of notebooks and books was taking root in your heart, branches of comfort and security drawing an extensive tree of friendship within you.

In the space of two months, you and Yoongi became inseparable.

But, no matter how much comfort Yoongi provided you, no matter how much warmth Yoongi fed your heart, Yoongi also brought with him a kind of anxiety, a nervousness that forced you to return to that annoying habit of counting – you couldn’t understand why.

And everything went back to numbers.

And everything went back to being a routine.

Every day it took you exactly eleven minutes and four seconds to get to school. Every day you always waited three minutes for Yoongi to appear and offer you two simple words that, in a way, brightened your day. Every day you spent five classes writing exactly thirty lines of notes using just a pen. Every day you had exactly an hour and a half for lunch, which was always shared with Yoongi. Every day, at the end of classes, you always waited five minutes for Yoongi to meet you at the school gate and walk the eleven minutes and four seconds with you to your house.

But, no matter how routine your life was, no matter how many days passed, your little habit brought by Yoongi began to irritate you: you felt like you had gone back in time and been that naive child – but it was stronger than you, you couldn’t help it.

Was there a way to break this habit?

The reality is that during the three years you shared with Yoongi in high school, your life had become a routine surrounded by numerical sequences that you repeated day after day after day after day aft–

No matter how much you thought, you couldn’t understand why Yoongi had such an impact on your life to the point that your heart raced exactly two seconds every time you were with him. This behavior of yours was strange to your heart and year after year it only got worse, reaching the point of confusing all the numbers in your mind.

You blamed Yoongi.

Your heart was unstable whenever Yoongi’s energy approached you. It was practically difficult for you to follow a logical thought because of Yoongi: so quickly your heart beat exactly sixty times a minute, and then it accelerated to a crazy ninety heartbeats.

All because Yoongi was, in reality, that person you always dreamed of.

And now, in the last year of high school, when universities were mentioned and futures were planned, everything seemed redundant, everything seemed meaningless.

“It doesn’t feel real.”

Yoongi’s words were embellished by an intense sunset, the vibrant colors in the sky guiding your path to your house.

“What doesn’t?”

“It’s our last year,” Yoongi had a sad smile on his lips, as if that thought alone carried with it all the negativity in the world. “High school.”

“Yea.”

You used the same smile as Yoongi and, after blinking your eyes twice, you tilted your head a little to watch the sky: among the vibrant colors of reds and oranges, you could make out small white clouds that were trying to create a shape, a story.

“It seems like it was yesterday that we met.”

Your words were covered with pure longing. As if carrying all the memories shared between you and Yoongi, your words caressing Yoongi’s lips, giving truth to that shy smile of his.

Two seconds passed and Yoongi’s smile expanded on its own.

Lost in his thoughts, Yoongi didn’t realize that he was now smiling widely, letting the warm air of the day kiss his lips, his brown eyes shining brightly.

“I’m grateful you’re in my life.”

Yoongi’s confession took exactly three seconds to settle in your heart and five seconds to be processed. Yoongi’s words repeated exactly three times inside your head and lit a single fire inside you.

He was grateful. Because you’re in his life. You.

“Your presence in my life,” every syllable uttered by Yoongi was bathed in longing, peppered with the memories of three long years filled with pure happiness and understanding, “made high school an experience worth living.”

Every word Yoongi released made small palpitations in your heart, your heartbeat becoming irregular when commanded by your best friend’s honesty.

“Having you with me brought me so many emotions, so many dreams, so many…”

“Dreams?”

You couldn’t control yourself. At that simple six-letter word your lips curved into a perfect smile full of curiosity and enthusiasm.

Yoongi told you everything.

There was an desirable complicity in your relationship.

It seemed natural, something that slept inside you and Yoongi and woke up only when the first words were exchanged. Yoongi swore it was timeless. Just two months of your friendship were enough for Yoongi to be sure that the complicity that existed between the two of you was too strong to be new. In other lives, Yoongi used to say, in other lives we shared memories and dreams. In other lives, you used to say, in other lives we had a lasting relationship. In other lives, however, in other lives you weren’t together. But Yoongi believed. You believed.

“What dreams?”

“None.” Yoongi took exactly two steps away from you and, after holding back a smile for exactly one second, he spoke again, his voice full of amusement. “No. It doesn’t matter.”

“Yoonie!” your best friend’s name sounded in laughter, your hands looking for Yoongi’s arm to hold him. “Tell me, what dreams?”

“None, no. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Please!”

Your voice had dropped in timbre and, as you gently pronounced those six letters, Yoongi sighed.

Two blinks. A smile.

“I want to join the university basketball team.”

Yoongi’s secret was exposed. Painted with the fire of the sky, Yoongi’s secret flew gently into your ears, basking in your mind, racing your heart.

Ninety-two heartbeats.

Basketball. Yoongi dreamed of basketball. Yoongi dreamed. Basketball. Os course.

“And… I would like you… I would like you to come and watch me play.”

Ninety-seven heartbeats.

You. You were in Yoongi’s dream. Your presence. Your soul. You. In Yoongi’s dream.

You smiled.

“If you make the team, I promise I’ll watch your first game.”

“You don’t need to go. It’s just a dream.”

You could tell from Yoongi’s shy tone of voice that he was embarrassed by his confession, feeling exposed for having told a simple secret.

But it was Yoongi’s dream. It was Yoongi’s genuine and only dream. You. You. You.

“I promise.” your promise was joyful, sprinkled with the sundust that illuminated your conversation. “I want to cheer for you. I want to see you doing what you love most. I want to see my best friend happy.”

“But I’m already happy with you.”

One second. Ninety-four heartbeats.

Two seconds. One hundred heartbeats.

Three seconds. Happy with you. Yoongi was happy. With you. Yoongi was happy with you.

“I’m happy with you too.”

Two perfect smiles. Two genuine smiles. Two silent seconds.

You and Yoongi looked at each other, letting the intense shine in your eyes speak for you. You and Yoongi looked at each other, letting the soft breeze of the day caress your faces. You and Yoongi looked at each other, and the entire world had disappeared.

“My days feel incomplete without you.”

A confession from you.

Seventy-eight heartbeats.

“I can only be myself when I’m with you.”

A confession from Yoongi.

Ninety-one heartbeats.

“Yoongi?”

Your voice came out in a thread, shaky. It didn’t matter how many times you repeated your best friend’s name, the reality is that your heart beat exactly seventy-eight times a minute whenever you thought of that name, whenever you pronounced that name, whenever you waited for that name to respond to you.

Yoongi’s eyes focused on you, a small, shy smile appeared on your best friend’s lips, that curve expanding as if automatically – it was the effect you had on Yoongi.

He didn’t utter a word. Only Yoongi’s gaze spoke for him, shining with the happiness of that moment, showing you the contentment he felt in that moment.

For a instant, your heartbeat dropped to exactly forty-two heartbeats per minute.

“Do you think we will continue to be friends?”

Your question was carried by the breeze at the end of the day, your words spreading across the street as if wanting to drive away all the fear you carried with you.

“I hope so.”

Yoongi’s confession stuck on the sidewalk, his words settling on the street as if cementing all the hope they carried.

“But… you’re going to Seoul, aren’t you?”

“Mhm,” Yoongi seemed unable to utter any statement, it was as if in that single monosyllable he hid something that he was afraid to show.

You continued to walk in silence, the sunset painting you a picture of anxious reds and shy oranges. An entire city graced your walk, where every car and every person played an urban melody that was already well known to you.

“I need to tell you something.”

Yoongi stopped walking and you stopped exactly two steps in front of him.

You were curious. When Yoongi said exactly those six words to you, the possibilities were endless: he could talk about the team of that sport he really likes, he could talk about a restaurant that just opened, he could talk about so many possibilities that the numbers started to jumble inside you.

Yoongi looked at you nervously.

Two blinks. A deep breath. A blink.

“I like you…” Yoongi sighed again and looked at the ground, searching the sidewalk for some of the courage that might have been lost there. Scratching the back of his neck, taking a deep breath once more, Yoongi looked at you again, still nervous, still without courage. “You know I…”

“Yoongi,” you let out a small laugh that hid itself in Yoongi’s ears, resonating over and over and over again. “Don’t be nervous. You know you can tell me everything.”

“Everything, yes.”

A blink. A deep breath. Two blinks.

“You know you’re my best friend,” Yoongi’s voice was low, hoarse, still nervous about the words he was choosing in detail. “You know that I… that I really like you, don’t you?”

Four words.

I really like you.

One word.

Really.

“Yea…”

Pathetic. What a pathetic word. What yea so pathetic. What was happening to you? Why did you let those four words affect you so much? No. One. One word.

“There’s something I didn’t tell you. I didn’t have the courage.”

Courage. Why did Yoongi need that one word?

Forty-five heartbeats.

“There is a program at the university. Where first-year students can receive extra credit and get used to the university. And I am in that program.”

“That’s it?” you laughed at your best friend’s speech. Why was Yoongi so nervous about saying those five words? “You didn’t need to be so nervous.”

“It’s this summer.”

Three words.

Three words that were carried by the wind to distant lands to surprise as many people as they could. Three words that were heard by you with amazement and nervousness. Three words that simply won’t leave your mind.

“It lasts three months.”

Three. Three. Three.

What could you do? What could you say? Was Yoongi waiting for an answer? For a reaction? Nothing crossed your mind other than the number three. Your whole world had collapsed, everything had disappeared, total darkness painted you inside leaving the number three floating, floating, floating, floa–

But you just smiled for exactly two seconds as the last rays of the day gently painted Yoongi’s figure and you waited exactly another two seconds to speak.

“I hope you have fun.”

Your smile was genuine, quite wide and captivating, the kind of smile that would make anyone else smile too. But Yoongi didn’t smile. Yoongi just stared at you, blinking exactly five times before turning his sigh into a small, shaky smile “Thank you.”

In a way, you thought those two words hid more than they showed. In a way, you thought those two words were a disguise for Yoongi’s true feelings.

But you couldn’t say anything. You couldn’t force Yoongi to talk. So you just continued walking with Yoongi by your side, silently casting prayers to the sun to keep Yoongi safe.

You knew Yoongi’s program would be long. What you didn’t know was that the program forced your best friend to disappear completely for three months.

No.

It wasn’t three months.

Ninety-two days, four hours, three minutes, ten seconds since your last hug.

Thirty seconds since his last smile.

Forty seconds since your last goodbye.

You were lying in bed counting precisely the seconds that were ringing loudly on the clock hanging on the wall.

You were trying to distract yourself by following the clock, naming the various seconds that passed. You were simply using that habit of yours to comfort yourself; you were looking for some relieve to protect you from the longing you felt for Yoongi.

Your body was completely relaxed on the mattress, trying to calm your mind a little.

But it was unnecessary. And you knew that. As much as you wanted to, you couldn’t overcome the physical lack that Yoongi made you. Yes, you continued to talk almost daily, only when he could and had free time; but talking via texts couldn’t make up for the lack of Yoongi’s laughter, to make up for the lack of Yoongi’s jokes, to make up for the lack of Yoongi.

You sighed and got up from the bed exactly four seconds after letting your sigh of frustration wander into the emptiness of your room, of your heart.

You approached your desk and looked longingly at the last letter you had exchanged with Yoongi.

You let out a small wistful smile.

Yoongi knew how much you liked to count, especially the words, the minutes of waiting, the various spelling mistakes he made on purpose just to make you smile, to give you something more to count.

And that letter was, in fact, something very important to you – not because it was the last one you had received, but because those simple eight words had touched you in a way that you didn’t even know you missed. However, although Yoongi’s ‘we have to talk when I come home’ had moved you, the reality is that it wasn’t in the good way you were used to, but to the point of making your anxiety reach extreme peaks every time you saw that sheet of paper.

You read those words exactly five times before deciding to keep it in the blue box that Yoongi had offered you before leaving. After counting the thirteen letters that rested silently there, you closed the box and placed it on the shelf.

You sat on the bed again.

You counted the seconds on the clock again.

You thought about those eight words again.

What did Yoongi have to say? You thought of exactly eleven scenarios before you heard your cell phone ring and, before you saw who was calling you, your heart dropped to exactly fifty-three beats per minute.

But when you read the name, oh!, when you read Yoongi’s name shining on your small screen your heart accelerated to hundred and eleven heartbeats per minute and you needed to take four deep breaths before gained courage and answered the call.

“Hey.”

Yoongi sounded exactly as he always did: calm with a hint of joy trapped in the syllables. You immediately relaxed, as if that greeting was the magic word to control all your nerves.

“Just got home. Do you want… Do you want to meet me?”

Oh. Yeah. The eight words. Those words were still something you should worry about.

 At the mention of that possible meeting, your body became rigid, your heart slowed down significantly and you simply forgot to breathe.

Yoongi needed to talk to you and you couldn’t decipher what he wanted.

During these long three months, nothing serious had happened to you – but what if something had happened to him? What if he found someone else to share his life with? What if he found someone else who made him feel the same way you once made him feel? What if he had found another best friend?

“Are you still there?”

“Yea, yea,” two yeses, one omission; you were hiding something, you were hiding what you really felt, you were hiding what really worried you. “So… let’s meet at the cafe in twenty?

“See ya.”

You hung up the call and stared at your phone screen for exactly one minute and two seconds.

Silence fell in your room, no thought running through your mind other than those eight words from Yoongi and his request. You couldn’t think of anything else, no matter how hard you tried – and it was slowly destroying you.

You sat in your room for five minutes and thirty-two seconds.

You didn’t want to meet Yoongi. You didn’t want to find out what he wanted to talk to you about so much. Your heart raced just at the thought of Yoongi saying that he found someone different, someone better.

You didn’t want to lose Yoongi, you couldn’t afford that luxury.

But he was here... Yoongi was here and these ninety-two days, four hours and fifty-three minutes were too much – and it was what moved you.

You got out of bed and got ready for that meeting you were dreading so much.

Walking to the agreed location was like a walk to purgatory. Your feet were slow, your mind was thinking fast. The day was hot, the end of August arriving proud in its majesty and warming every corner of the city, every building in the city, every person in the city – except you.

Wrapped up in your worrying thoughts, the sun of that day found itself unable to tear you away from that block of ice that you had created in your mind with those eight words from Yoongi.

You walked with your head down, hands moving frantically with your fingers looking for a distraction other than the numbers.

But it was needless.

After exactly three steps, you started counting the number of cars that passed you. The number of steps you took. The number of people who were on their cell phone. The time: ninety-two days, five hours, twenty-eight minutes and forty-nine seconds.

Ten more steps and you arrived at the cafe. You knew you had to wait for Yoongi, but you preferred to arrive early rather than spend endless minutes anxiously in your room. Still, you made those ten steps last, dragging them out and distracting yourself with everything you could.

One step, three more people on the cell phone.

Two steps, the memory of your first hello to Yoongi.

Three steps, a couple holding hands – the first that day.

Four steps, your first hug.

Five steps, three pigeons flying.

Six steps, that day he gave you his coat because you were cold.

Seven steps, another person on the cell phone.

Eight steps, when he said he really liked you.

Nine steps, a boy riding a bicycle.

Ten steps, Yoongi.

Ninety-two days, five hours, thirty minutes and two seconds was how long it took you to see Yoongi since your last goodbye.

Two seconds was the time you couldn’t breathe after seeing Yoongi’s relaxed figure.

Forty-five were your heartbeats per minute.

Two minutes was the time you and Yoongi needed to assimilate that reality.

You were together once again.

You ran exactly four steps until you found yourself in Yoongi’s strong arms who, thinking that the world could ruin that moment, didn’t let go of you. Yoongi just held you tightly against his body and you could smell his sweet perfume, the perfume that you missed so much.

That hug lasted exactly two minutes and forty-three seconds. Your breath stopped for two seconds. Your heart beat seventy-eight times a minute. For two minutes and forty-three seconds your mind was blank. Your only thought was to focus on the feeling of comfort you felt being in Yoongi’s arms once again after not seeing him for so long.

No.

It wasn’t ‘so long’.

You knew perfectly well how long it had been.

Ninety-two days, five hours, thirty minutes and two seconds contained a profound eternity of fear and longing.

It didn’t matter. Finally you were in Yoongi’s arms. Finally you were being welcomed by Yoongi’s tenderness. Finally you were being touched by Yoongi’s affection. Finally you were with Yoongi – that was all that mattered.

But, after two minutes and forty-three seconds, Yoongi broke the hug and looked at you, his brown eyes always shining, the smile that only you gave him beautifying his face.

You trembled because, looking at Yoongi now, you remembered why you had met at that moment, without giving Yoongi any time to rest.

Yoongi wanted to talk to you.

“So? What do you want to tell me?”

“I missed you so much,” was all Yoongi said to you, cutting off your question, your reasoning, leaving you looking at him in shock, completely confused by what he told you. “I missed you so, so much.”

You stood there staring at him. You repeated those five words to yourself in total disbelief, confused with what was happening, with what could happen after those words from Yoongi. “You… You missed me?”

“I know you like to count,” Yoongi smiled wistfully, blinking with each word, looking at you with tenderness and a lot of… love? “But I also know that you like being with me. I thought it was more… special… to tell you… in pers…. Nevermind. It’s stupid.”

Yoongi let out a weak laugh and you waited exactly four seconds before answering him, your voice coming out in a slurred, shaky, shy thread.

“No. It’s not stupid.”

Because it was true.

Those five words had a different impact when said in person and you never realized it. In ninety-two days, five hours, thirty minutes and two seconds. In thirty hours of calls exchanged with Yoongi. In thirteen letters written with Yoongi. In two thousand, one hundred and thirty-four messages with Yoongi. In three months you never realized that Yoongi never, not once, said those five simple words to you.

I missed you so much.

Yoongi smiled fondly, a light and shy shade of pink appearing on his cheeks when he, very unsure of the situation, slowly touched your hand for exactly two seconds.

And you smiled back, slowly opening your fingers and waiting a second for him to intertwine his fingers with yours.

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