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strawbearytae · 2 years
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31. jaegguk: a kink📎
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a/n:thanks for reading! please remember to hit that rblg button as a pat on the head for me for a good job (•ᴗ•◍)!*
synopsis: flirting with your crush of 3 years wasn’t something you thought of when first getting twitter, a nasty breakup wasn’t what you expected either… but why is it that after 3 years and loads of droning on self-improvement and trying to become “that” girl, your gym buddy reminds you of the one person you wanted to forget?
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yoongiofmine · 8 months
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Oh, Darling! | MYG | Series Masterlist
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[MAIN MASTERLIST] | [Membership]
Pair: Professor!Yoongi  x Student!Reader 
Summary: Starting your second semester at one of South Korea’s most prestigious universities should be stressful enough. Between juggling classes, good grades and a social life, your plate was full. Hoping to spice up your academic career, you thought it was a good idea to enroll as an assistant for your literature professor, whom you've held a very secret and very forbidden crush on for the past several months. What will happen now that you’re forced to work closely together? And what if your crush isn’t as one sided as you thought?
Genre: Series, fluff, angst, smut, non idol au, university au.
Warnings: This series is part of the Hyung Line Daddy Collection. Mild age gap (not underage) where Yoongi is in his early thirties and Yn is in her early twenties, power play, since he is her professor, but it’s not toxic or abusive and Yoongi doesn’t take advantage of his position, daddy kink (eventually). Forbidden relationship. Cousin Jungkook, Best Friend Jimin (what is new), art student Tae, literature student reader and Namjoon. Side pairing: ?? and ??. This series has a LOT of smut, in almost every chapter. 
WC: 108k total.
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One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven - Finale
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lovelycupid47 · 5 months
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Yandere! Kim Taehyung College AU! One-shot
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a/n: This is my first fan fiction in a while. I'm trying to get the storyline readable and not cringe. So, if it does, I'm sorry
pairing: yandere!college student! Taehyung x college student! female reader.
TW: manipulation, slight abuse, and one swear word.
Everyone was jealous of you. They envied you. The reason is your boyfriend, Kim Taehyung. Your boyfriend was the most handsome, kind, loyal, and perfect man that every girl wished they had. Your boyfriend made sure that everyone knew that he belonged to you. Always staying by your side, blatantly ignoring any girl that tries to flirt with him, leaving hickeys every time you stay over in his dorm, deleting any messages from women that would try to seduce him, and even tattooing your name on his collarbone. Yet it has become overwhelming for you.
You met him in your first year of college. You were struggling to make friends and were finding adjustment a little difficult. It wasn’t until you met him through a classmate who invited you over to a club. You guys hit off great. You thought he was such a gentleman and handsome guy that befriending had become easy. Oh, how so wrong were you? 
Taehyung thought you were amazing and beautiful. Seeing your smile created a spark in his stomach that he didn’t want to go away. When he saw you in the sunlight, he believed that you were an angel that was sent to him since you were so perfect for him. He was so perfect for you. He knew he had to have you, so he asked you for your number and you being naive, said yes.
It started with texting each other every single day to daily luncheons to dating by the end of your freshmen semester. You guys were the perfect couple and everyone on campus knew you two could never be separated. It’s not like you want to separate. It's more like he doesn’t want to at ALL be separated away from you. At first, it was lovely and sweet, but your friends started noticing some signs that weren’t so lovely. 
“I thought you told Taehyung, you are spending time with the girls.” One of your blonde friends, Nayeon, said.
“I did, but you know him. He gets really anxious when I don’t text him back over 30 minutes.” You defended. 
“Isn’t that a little too much? He has been nonstop texting you since you sat down.” Your Burnett friend, Jihyo, questioned.
“Yeah, but he has really bad anxiety, so if I don’t text him quick enough, there is a chance he can get a panic attack. Last time, I forgot to text him before my test and he ended up calling me 20 times and left 50 messages about if I was okay and if I was in danger.” 
Both of your friends looked at each other wearily and back at you who was oblivious to how manipulative it sounded. Taehyung had never acted like this before, especially since they had known him longer than you. They've seen his previous relationships, and he never acted that way with any of the girls. This raised concerns among the girls and gave them a slight suspicion of something that wasn’t right. Since then they started observing you guys interaction in public. 
What they noticed was how subtly possessive he could get. It started with just grabbing your hand and never letting go unless you need to use both hands. They saw how he would beg for your attention when you were talking to another guy. The worst of all is the death stare he would give to any guy or girl who tries to flirt with you. Instead of voicing their concerns to you, they kept quiet. 
You, Taehyung, and your friend group decided to go eat out since exams were over. It was a moment to destress and eat/drink all of their worries away. It was going so perfectly until your boyfriend took it too far. 
“Who are you texting?” Taehyung asks.
“Oh a relative, they are wondering if I’m coming home during break.” You proclaimed. Out of nowhere, you felt arms wrapping around you and a sudden whine.
“Who told you you can leave me alone? Who is going to cuddle with me at night then? What about our morning breakfast together? You can't leave your boyfriend here by himself.” He whined out loud. Usually, this behavior would be cute to your friends, but now it has become really annoying. 
“You can wait a couple of months without her. It's not like she dying,” Nayeon mumbled, head down and moving her food around. 
“No, that is a crime. I need the love of my life with me at all times. She is my other half.” He defended while slightly glaring at her. 
“Well, have you ever thought that maybe giving her space?” Jihyo argued back with the same glare intensity as him. “It becomes overwhelming when you don’t leave her side, especially when she needs to use the restroom.”
You didn’t like where this was going, especially since it started raising some tension on the table. “Are you tired of me, baby?” Taehyung pouted pulling his most unforgiving puppy dog's eyes. The eyes he knew that you can’t say no to. 
“O-of course not!” You defended, “I would never think like that because I know how much it affects you, and you know how much I love you. I-I love the affection you give me.”
“Yeah, it is endearing, but Taehyung, it does become overwhelming even for us when all you talk about is Y/N. We get it, you are a hopeless romantic and are head over heels, but hearing about it even when she is not with us is getting really annoying.”Jungkook, Taehyung’s best friend, retorted. He heard from both Nayeon and Jihyo how Taehyung doesn’t set boundaries and is always in your space. At first, he didn’t believe it, but he started paying attention and saw what the other two girls were mentioning. Whenever Jungkook and Taehyung hang out with other guys, Taehyung is always gushing about how pretty and wonderful you are. Then he would be stuck on his phone texting you instead of talking to them. There was even one-time Taehyung yelled at Jimin, a close friend of theirs, for telling Taehyung that he could do so much better than you and that you were just going to be a college fling that he would forget about in the future. Jungkook remembered that day being the only time he saw Taehyung almost get physical with someone. The rage he saw in Taehyung’s eyes was something he could never forget and would haunt him in his sleep. 
Taehyung didn’t say anything. He was looking down at his lap staying silent making you even more worried. “Guys, I understand your concerns, but I don’t mind it. Besides, you guys are not considering his separation anxiety. I thought you guys knew about his trauma. So, leave him alone, please.” You begged, it hurts seeing your boyfriend being judged by the people he trusted the most. 
“Y/N, he doesn’t have separation anxiety. He just saying that so you can feel pity for him. I asked his mom two days ago and she said he never experienced any trauma.” Nayeon bickered. At that, it was Taehyung’s last straw. He stood up and grabbed your hand. “We will be leaving. Seeing as none of you guys support our relationship.” And you both left the restaurant without listening to your friend’s protest. 
The car back to your dorm was silent. No words were coming out of him. You tried lightening the mood, but all you got was one-word answers. It was concerning to you because you never saw him like this. It has been close to two years since you guys started dating, and you have never seen this side of him. Yes, there were also arguments between you, but he was always the one asking for forgiveness whenever you made a move to leave the room.  This is something that can actually take a turn in your relationship. 
Once at your dorm room, it was just you and him. Your roommate already left back home once exams were finished, so you had the room all to yourself before you headed back home. “Y/N. Give me your phone.” Taehyung demanded in his monotonous voice. A voice he avoids using on you. He was standing by your bed while you were still near the door.
“Why? Can we talk about what happened back at the restaurant first?” You questioned. In the car, you thought about what Nayeon said. Was it true? Were you being lied to?
“I don’t want to talk about it. Especially with people that want to separate us. Now give me your phone.” He extended his hand out expecting you to oblige to his demand, but you were hesitant.
“Those people are our friends. They weren’t trying to separate. They are just concerned for my well-being because you can become overbearing!” Yeah, you were mad at your friends for ganging up on your boyfriend, but they were your only friends since Freshman year. Besides them, no one wanted to be your friend for some odd reason.
“So you agree with them. You can’t stand being with me... Am I annoying you with my love, babe? Is my affection and love something you don’t like? Do you not love me anymore? D-do you hate me?” Taehyung gave you the most heartbreaking expression that you have ever seen. 
“Taehyung, you know that is not what I mean.”
“Really? Because it sounds like you don’t love me anymore. Is it because Jihyo and Nayeon are brainwashing you to stop loving me.” He started advancing towards you.
“They have nothing to do with this Tae.” You started slowly backing away.
“They have everything to do with this since they started the whole thing. Obviously, they are trying to persuade you to leave me. Unless…” He had you against the wall while gripping your shoulders tightly. 
“Are you cheating on me with Jungkook? After all, he is the only man you interact with and he was quick to make sure to separate you from me.” He was staring straight into your eyes which were diluted with anger while his grip on you was tightening every second. 
“Taehyung you are hurting me! You are jumping to a conclusion. There is nothing going on with me and Jungkook, okay? You know that I love you and only, so why would I want Jungkook.” You try reasoning with him, but it seems like nothing is getting to him.
“Prove it. Block them.” He declared, and from the expression on his meant he was serious. 
“Block them? Do you mean our friends? The one that has been with us since the beginning? Taehyung this is getting out of hand.” You tried getting out of his grip but he ended up digging his nails into your skin.
“The friends that got us in this argument. The same friends that insulted me in front of you, your boyfriend. The same friends that made fun of my condition, Y/N. What about the time that they picked on your outfit because it was too childish? What about the time they talked shit behind your back and yet you forgave them. You know and I know that they are the toxic ones, so I’m going to ask you one more time. Block. Them. Or help me god I will do it for you.” You were helpless because you knew he was speaking facts and you couldn’t argue back. To you they were facts, but to him, they were lies that he made up and manipulated to make sure you believed him. You defeatedly handed your phone that was buzzing with missed calls from your friends. 
He grabbed it and blocked your friends on your phone and any other social media platforms. He wanted to make sure that none of them had any contact with you. Heck, he would even make sure that they don’t even be in the same room with you. 
“See, was that hard.” He cupped your face with his veiny hands and kissed your tears away. You didn’t know you were crying until you felt his lips on your eyelids.
“Don’t worry. We have each other. Isn’t that enough? We can be even more affectionate without the nagging people insulting us.” He wrapped his arms around your shoulders while you wrapped your arms around his waist. His head was lying on top of yours while swaying you both from side to side. 
“It is me and you against the world. Forever.” If only you saw the smirk he had on his face, you wouldn’t be nuzzling his neck.
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darkjimxn · 9 days
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Chapter 3: Stalker [M]
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Summary: “A manwhore and a junkie… it’s a match made in heaven.”
Pairing: Park Jimin x Reader
Genre: High School au, angst
Word Count: 7.4k
Warnings: 18+, substance use disorder/drug addiction, PTSD, child abuse, sexual content (not explicit), additional warnings might be added as story progresses.
A/N: Sorry for taking so long to update, my motivation has just been so bad because of uni. And now with exams coming up, I can't really promise anything, but after my exams are over I'll definitely be more active!
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“God, I want you to absolutely wreck me.”
The bedroom suddenly quieted, its dim lighting beginning to wrap around the walls and furniture of the room to form an uncomfortably suffocating atmosphere. Or maybe Jimin was just projecting his own deteriorating feelings onto the innocent space. He was well aware that his mind shouldn’t have latched onto the words of the innocent woman he currently had pinned to his bed, shouldn’t have started picturing her wishes in his head, yet he couldn’t stop it. He’s never been able to stop it. But that didn’t stop him from trying every time. 
The more he envisioned the actions, the more he could feel those familiar ghostly hands crawl up his spine. His mind grasped at something, anything else to focus on. 
In his desperation, his unsteady gaze dropped to the girl beneath him. She was the epitome of conventionally attractive, with long, light brown hair sprawled around his mattress and dainty facial features. Modelling agencies would probably die for this girl if she gave them a chance. 
But at the moment she was just a distraction. Or at least she had been, until she had opened her mouth. 
The logical part of him tried to remind himself that her words were just that: words. She was just a horny girl expressing her preferences. It made sense, considering what they were about to do. And if anything, Jimin appreciated it when women told him what they wanted. It made his life a lot easier. 
But those particular wishes churned uneasily in his stomach as he felt the hands continue to travel up his spine, finding a cosy spot on his neck. His heartbeat, which had been racing for an entirely different reason, now thumped painfully in his chest as it quickened in pace. 
This can’t be happening right now, he thought with a mixture of frustration and desperation. 
Jimin pushed the impending, but familiar, feeling aside, choosing instead to focus on Emily.
That had clearly been a mistake.
“Like, tie me down. Choke me. Use me like a freaking slut. I swear I haven’t been railed in weeks,” she continued while running her fingers through his hair, completely oblivious to Jimin’s deteriorating state.
The feelings he had shoved aside pounded against his poorly constructed dam, fueled by the implications of Emily’s words. He could feel the ghostly hands press harder against his neck, labouring his breathing in the process. It was a telltale sign of the panic that had become so familiar to him. He knew now that there was no escaping this episode, no matter how hard he tried to steady his breathing and calm his nerves. 
What he needed to do was get out of here. 
“Those are a lot of demands to cover in one morning,” he said with a forced chuckle, hoping his voice wasn’t as shaky as he felt, “give me a minute, I’ll be right back.”
Before Emily could protest, Jimin slipped off the bed and half stumbled into his bathroom, just barely managing to lock the door.
And just like that, the dam broke. 
Jimin collapsed onto the tiled floor, desperately trying to get some air into his lungs as memories started to flood his mind. They flashed before him like a montage, nightmare after nightmare stealing his ability to breath. At first, he was back in his childhood home, watching his father push his mother down a flight of stairs while screaming at her like a madman. Jimin could feel his heart racing in his chest as he wondered if she was dead. 
But before he could run to her, his memories moved onto the day his father found out his wife had left. Jimin hadn’t even registered the fact that he’d never see his mother again before his father was on him, shouting at him while his hands enclosed around his neck harder. 
Then he was in his old bedroom, watching the bat in his hands crash into his father’s head as he heard a feminine scream. There was blood everywhere, in the room, on his hands. He tried to wipe it off frantically as it burned his skin, but it didn’t matter. The more he wiped off, the more it spread up his arms. 
All he could do was sit helplessly on the floor of the bathroom, head between his knees, as he shook uncontrollably and gasped for air. But the air wouldn’t come. It was like the ghostly hands had finally succeeded in crushing his windpipe and he could no longer fill his lungs. 
Jimin lurched forward suddenly, feeling his heart hammer painfully in his chest. He swore this time was different. 
He swore this time he was going to die. 
His hand slapped desperately against the counter before it made contact with smooth metal. Relieved, his fingers wrapped around it, pulling it upwards until he could hear the faint sounds of water rushing out of the faucet. He tried to aim his attention to the sound of the water spewing out of the tap, listening intently to the way it sputtered out of the circular piece of metal. Then he focused on the water splashing against the smooth marble sink, running against it momentarily before it was swallowed up by the drain. He could hear the water crash against the pipes under his sink as they whisked the water away. 
It took him what felt like hours to really focus on the sound, letting it sooth him as much as it could. Jimin imagined his memories and panic seeping down the drain alongside it, the black plastic pipes guiding them far away from himself and his house. His breathing started getting a little easier with every passing moment as the memories of his father began to seep back into the locked portion of his mind. 
With small pockets of air now able to enter his lungs, Jimin managed to bring his hand down to the floor. He dragged two of his fingers against it in circles, focusing on the cold of the tile seeping into his fingertips and the rough line of grout between them. He inhaled as his finger met one half of the circle, stalling there for a moment, before exhaling as he completed the round. 
When Jimin finally felt himself calm, only the remnants of a few mild tremors left, he let his back drop against the glass side of his walk-in shower with a sigh. A lingering soreness was spreading throughout his chest as he felt his sweat-soaked shirt stick to his back. Although he was more than familiar with episodes like these, he couldn’t help but wonder why this one had been so particularly bad. 
Either way, the “attack” had left him exhausted, to the point that Jimin almost considered skipping school today. It was especially tempting, considering how much Taehyung had been bothering him recently about the therapy and whether it was working. Jimin had to remind him that he had only gone to one session, though he didn’t mention just how much he had hated it. 
But Jimin knew that there were a few concepts he needed to clarify in his first class, so ditching school was out of the question. 
Not to mention, Jimin’s second period had gotten a lot more interesting when the school had decided to transfer him to a different class because of a few scheduling issues. Particularly your presence had intrigued him, because he was so confused as to how he’d never noticed you before. Sure, Jimin had only been attending this school for the past two years, but he still found it hard to believe that the two of you had never crossed paths. He’d have definitely remembered if that were the case. You were, without a doubt, the most attractive woman he’d ever met, there was no way he would have overlooked a face like that.
Jimin stretched forward, just barely managing to close the faucet without having to get up from his position on the floor. You were fun to tease, and definitely something during sex. Jimin didn’t think he’d ever enjoyed sex as much as he had with you. 
His gaze dropped as he remembered the bottle that had been clutched in your hand that night at Taehyung’s house. It had been a shock to him that you were using, even though technically he was well aware he didn’t know you at all. He wondered if your addiction stopped at Adderall, or did you do more than just that? He hoped you didn’t, for your sake. 
Jimin had wanted to say something about it when he had dropped you off, encourage you to choose a different path for yourself. But he couldn’t seem to find the right words. He had used them all up when his father was still alive, none of which were successful of course. So instead he had walked away, guilt nibbling away at him with every step. 
“Jimin?”
Jimin’s head snapped towards the door as Emily’s muffled voice passed through it. He had practically forgotten that she was still there, too wrapped up in his panic and then his thoughts to remember that she’d probably been waiting for him to come back to his bed. He knew he couldn’t do it. She clearly wanted things that he just couldn’t give her. The prospect of having to explain some lousy excuse to her suddenly made him exhausted all over again. 
But thankfully Emily spoke up again before he could reply, “look, my first class starts soon and I can’t miss it. I guess we’ll have to do this another time.” 
He could hear the disappointment in her tone before he listened to the sound of her footsteps as she walked out of his bedroom, followed by the sound of his front door shutting quickly. When he was sure she was gone, he stood from his spot and made his way to his bedroom, picking up his phone to confirm the time. Emily wasn’t wrong, his first class was starting soon. He would have to get going as well. 
Jimin walked back to his bathroom, standing in front of the mirror above the sink. His gaze scanned the damp, rust-coloured hair sticking to his forehead, and then the beads of sweat travelling down his neck. He grimaced. First, he needed a shower.
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Jiwoo was in a mood. 
You had begun to suspect as much at the end of your first class, when she had kicked your bag while stomping out of the classroom. Although Jiwoo was always pulling stunts like that, she’d usually accompany it with an irritating taunt or mocking expression. But it wasn’t until right before second period, when she had purposely bumped into the open pencil case on your desk to scatter it all over the floor, when you became certain.
Jiwoo was in a mood. 
You watched her drop into her seat near the front of the class with an angry huff, uncharacteristically not even bothering to spare you a fake “oops.” Normal Jiwoo was far from a saint, but god did annoyed Jiwoo unlock a different type of rage in you. Her irritation made you wonder how her parents’ divorce was going. Probably not great, if her mood today was anything to go on. 
With an annoyed sigh, you slipped off your chair and lowered yourself to the floor to focus on collecting your things, trying to calm your raging heartbeat and shaking hands in the process. You weren’t sure whether it was because of Jiwoo or the Ritalin. This was your third day on Ritalin even though you had vowed to never take the stuff again. You didn’t really have much of a choice. There was still no news on Yoongi, which meant you were still out of Adderall. And although Ritalin made you crazy with nerves, it still somehow managed to help you focus on your schoolwork. Not to mention you’d much rather be a jittery mess than the dead zombie that your Adderall crash had reduced you to.
Unfortunately, until you could get your hands on some Adderall, Ritalin was your only option. 
You shoved the last of your supplies into your pencil case, brows furrowing when you noticed that you were missing your eraser. But one scan of the floor showed no sign of the white rubber. 
You checked under your desk and then your chair, wondering where it could have disappeared to.
It wasn’t until a pair of black dress shoes and grey dress pants appeared in your line of sight when you realised where your eraser had gone. 
“Looking for something?” Jimin asked in a teasing tone, holding out your white eraser between the tips of his index and middle fingers. 
Your gaze reluctantly travelled up to his smug face, the feeling of annoyance a natural response to his presence at this point. 
“Stealing my car wasn’t enough? Now you want my eraser too?”
Jimin’s head tilted for a moment before he rested a hand on your desk and leaned forward so that his next words could only be heard by you. 
“Why would I want anything more when I’ve already got you on your knees for me, kitten?”
You rolled your eyes, ignoring the tempting view of his sharp jawline, before grabbing your pencil case and pushing yourself off of the ground. Leave it to Jimin to turn every instance into an opportunity to flirt. 
“Weren’t you the one that said I had to ask for sex the next time I wanted it? What happened to that?” You asked with a low voice before taking back your eraser. 
“I never said I couldn’t be tempting.”
Then, to your surprise, Jimin dropped into the empty desk beside yours instead of his usual seat behind you. It took you a second to register the sudden change, and then another to eye him weirdly. 
But before you could ask him what he was doing, Mr. Kim walked into the classroom just as the bell rang. The students rushed to their seats to bring out their textbooks, some of the girls swooning over the alleged new shirt he was wearing. You took your seat quickly, sending Jimin a glare in the process. 
Taehyung hurried into the room just after Mr. Kim, slipping unnoticeably past him before dropping into his usual seat. His eyebrows furrowed for a moment when he noticed Jimin wasn’t sitting next to him, and then they furrowed even further when he realised where he was actually sitting. 
“Come on man, what happened to bros before hoes?” He muttered under his breath. You almost laughed at his sulky expression.
Mr. Kim began writing the lesson on the whiteboard, “please turn to page 245.”
You turned to the page alongside the rest of the class as Jimin did the same, distantly noticing your leg bouncing up and down unconsciously. 
Mr. Kim turned back to the class, beginning the lesson by explaining the concepts on the page he had instructed everyone to turn to. He was one of the better teachers, so you were easily able to understand the seemingly complex concepts.  
That was until Jimin started annoying you, just like he had been doing in class for the past few days. It was always small things, like sneakily drawing random doodles in your notebook when you weren’t looking or stealing your pencil every so often. It took everything in you not to throw your eraser at his face. Instead, you dragged your notebook and supplies to the other side of your desk with a huff.
That just made him laugh, one he had to muffle with his hands so Mr. Kim didn’t call him out. 
The class went on like this, a mixture of evading Jimin’s antics while simultaneously trying to understand the lesson being taught by Mr. Kim. You honestly had to applaud the guy for being able to escape Mr. Kim’s gaze for so long. He was notoriously known for being an observant teacher, and because of that you were sure he knew a lot more student secrets than he let on. 
However, Jimin’s antics had to come to an abrupt end when Mr. Kim placed his whiteboard marker down and faced the class, seemingly finished with teaching the lesson. He called up two students, handing them both stacks of papers to hand out to the rest of the class. 
“Your next assignment will consist of a presentation closely resembling a seminar, where each group will be expected to accurately teach the class on an assigned topic,” he explained, characteristically professional and thoughtful with his words, “since the goal of this assignment will be to facilitate understanding, I will be expecting the incorporation of some creative elements in order to keep the presentation engaging in addition to being informative.”
One of the students that had been handing out the mini booklets finally reached you and Jimin, handing the two of you one each before moving onto Taehyung. 
“The booklets in front of you go over the details pertaining to this assignment. Therefore, I expect you all to read through them thoroughly to avoid losing marks over small mistakes.”
Mr. Kim suddenly smiled, “although, with this being your senior year I doubt you all require such a reminder anyway.”
You watched Jiwoo’s hand shoot into the air as you tried to keep Jimin’s hands off your booklet. Mr. Kim nodded towards her before she spoke, “will we get to choose our own groups?”
“No, I will be assigning the groups, as well as the topics,” he replied, earning him a number of whines and groans. But Mr. Kim merely chuckled, amused, but not willing to change his mind. 
He then turned to the first row of students, grouping them in pairs based on their seating. You groaned inwardly when you realised the pattern he was going by and who, in that case, would end up being your partner. 
“Jimin and Y/N,” Mr. Kim grouped, but then paused when he noticed Taehyung sitting without the deskmate, “and Taehyung.”
“Mr. Kim,” Jiwoo said once again, but this time you rolled your eyes knowing what she was going to bring up, “isn’t it unfair that one group has three students? That will lessen their workload compared to everyone else!”
You noticed Jiwoo send you a mocking smile for a moment, clearly trying to incite you.
Witch. 
“You may rest assured, Ms. Kim. I will ensure everything is as fair as possible,” he reassured with a small smile. But Jiwoo just slid down in her seat, annoyed that her plan to make your life harder had pretty much failed. 
You wished she turned around so you could send her your fakest smile. On one hand was Jiwoo, the most annoying witch in existence, and then on another hand was Jimin, the most annoying jerk in existence. 
What has your life come to?
When the bell finally rang and Mr. Kim dismissed the class, you crumpled one of your rough pieces of paper and threw it at Jimin’s face with a glare. 
It wasn’t much, but boy did it make you feel better. 
“What was that for?” He asked, failing miserably at stifling a laugh. 
“You know what.”
Ignoring Jimin’s amused glance, you packed your bag as your classmates began to chat with each other and started making their way to the cafeteria. You wouldn’t be heading there, though, since you usually spent your breaks in the library studying. It just felt better to get all your work out of the way so you could go home and just sleep for hours. 
You walked out of the classroom, thankful that you could finally get away from the annoying thing known as Park Jimin, and then began walking to the library. The hallways were full of students relaxing and playing around with each other, making you think of Namjoon. He was away on some trip for a maths competition. Or maybe it was for a science competition? Either way, he was off doing his nerd stuff, so you couldn’t invite him to hang out after you finished studying. 
You made it to the library’s front desk, sending a smile to the main librarian who returned it sweetly. 
“Hello, have the study room schedules been made yet?” You asked. 
She answered your question with a nod and, after giving her your name, she began searching the computer for your schedule.  
Since the demand for the very limited number of study rooms in the library was so high, the school had decided to come up with a schedule system for the students that wished to use them, because a first come, first serve approach would be much too “barbaric” for a private school of course. Each student was given a schedule for which study room they were assigned to and when they could use it. 
“Hi, can I get my study schedule please?” A voice asked, “my name is Park Jimin.”
Your gaze snapped to your side, finding Jimin standing right next to you. 
Seriously?
“So you’ve resorted to stalking me now?” You asked, causing Jimin to turn to you with a surprised expression. 
When his gaze fell on you, he grinned. 
“How come I’m the stalker? You could very well be the one stalking me,” he said. 
Before you could reply, the librarian walked back to her desk and handed you and Jimin your printed schedules. The two of you thanked her before walking over to the library’s elevator while looking them over. 
Thankfully, you were scheduled for a study room on Wednesdays during break, so you didn’t have to find somewhere else to study at the moment. 
You eyed Jimin when he followed you into the elevator, watching as he pressed the button to the floor you were also going to. The two of you seemed to be finding yourselves in each other’s presence a lot lately. It made you groan inwardly, knowing that the semester had only just begun.
It was like having a second Jiwoo since you and her were usually thrown together a lot due to your familial ties, but at least Jimin didn’t kick your bag or slap your pencil case to the ground. That earned him at least a few more points in your book.
The book’s name? “The Most Annoying People in Kim Y/N’s Life,” of course.
The elevator door dinged as it revealed the hallway of the second floor. Jimin walked out of it first, unfortunately taking a right into the hallway, which was the same way you were going. 
You followed him reluctantly.
“Who’s following who now, kitten?” He said with a smirk, an eyebrow raised at you. 
You simply huffed, “shut up.”
You didn’t bother to come up with a better comeback. All you had to do was make it to your study room, then you could finally get rid of him. This day had been filled with way too much Jimin, and you were actually looking forward to doing homework in a nice and quiet room over having to deal with his annoying butt. 
Jimin continued through the hallway until he stopped in front of the door to the farthest study room from the elevator. The action made your eyes widen.
“No,” you denied immediately, stomping over to him before grabbing his schedule from his hand, “no way. There’s no way.”
Your mouth fell open as you took in his schedule, almost exactly identical to your own. The only day in which your and Jimin’s schedules didn’t align was Monday. Only one out of the five days of school in a week would you be free of him. No way. There was no way this was possible. Of all the insane things…
While you were distracted, a confused Jimin took your own schedule from your hands, looking over it curiously. It only took him a second to figure out what your issue was, but when he did, he couldn’t help himself. 
Jimin burst into a fit of laughter. 
“Stop laughing, this isn’t funny,” you whined, smacking the paper against his head. That only made him laugh harder as he fell to the floor with a hand clutching his stomach. 
“Guess we’re stuck with each other now,” Jimin managed through his laughter. 
You rolled your eyes, choosing instead to walk past him into the room. Fine, if you were going to be stuck with him, then you were just going to have to ignore his presence completely. It was the only ray of hope in your seemingly continuous misery. 
You dropped into a seat at the large table, spreading your work out as you opened your laptop and began typing furiously against the innocent keys. 
After a few minutes Jimin walked into the room, closing it behind him before he thankfully dropped into a chair away from yours and brought out his own work. You risked a glance upwards, catching a smirk on his lips that made your blood boil. 
Your eyes stayed glued to your screen after that. 
You expected him to annoy you the same way he had during your second period class by stealing your pencils or throwing a paper plane at you, but instead he remained focused on his work for a full half an hour straight. That came as a surprise to you because you honestly hadn’t been expecting him to be very studious. Maybe it was because he had annoyed you during class. Or maybe it was because you had unintentionally believed in the stereotype against guys that slept around. Either way, it was surprising when you managed to get through half an hour worth of work without any disturbances. 
After half an hour, though, Jimin sighed, leaning back in his chair as he stretched his arms behind him. He’d taken off his blazer, so you could see the defined lines of his muscles stretch under his dress shirt. Your straying gaze quickly shot back to your screen, but not before Jimin had noticed your curious eyes. He smirked. 
You were able to work for a few more minutes before Jimin suddenly leaned forward, eyeing you curiously. 
“So,” he said, causing you to turn your head towards him questionably, “how did your dad end up reacting?”
 You furrowed your eyebrows, “what?”
“After the party, when you came home after midnight. I’m surprised he wasn’t already standing on the porch with a shotgun ready.”
You snorted, unable to imagine your dad doing that, “my dad’s not like that.”
“Oh, so he was cool with it and everything?” He asked. 
You shifted in your seat, “no… I mean, I don’t know. He wasn’t home that night.”
Jimin nodded, “business trip?”
“Kind of. He’s a truck driver,” you explained, a little weirded out by the suddenly normal conversation but still appreciating the unexpected break from your work, “he’s usually only home on weekends. Otherwise he’s out driving across the country.”
Jimin’s eyes widened, “so he leaves you alone during the entire week? And sometimes he doesn’t even come back on the weekends?”
You shrugged, finding it odd how surprised Jimin looked, “yeah? I’m not a kid, it’s not that big of a deal.”
Jimin’s gaze dropped to the table in front of him, seemingly deep in thought. But you noticed a slight scowl in his features. 
Weird. 
You shifted to face Jimin, a question coming to mind, “but why are you only asking about my dad?”
Jimin didn’t look up from the table, “I heard what that girl said about your mom last Friday… I just kind of assumed…”
The room quieted into what felt like an awkward silence. You had the feeling that something you said had cut the surprisingly normal conversation short, but there was nothing you said that could have offended him so you didn’t really understand why that was. 
You turned back to your work, brushing against the touchpad to light up your laptop’s screen once again. After sending one final curious glance at Jimin, you went back to your work. 
But Jimin was clearly lost in thought. 
-
-
-
The first thing Jimin noticed when he walked into the room was Lauren, who was sitting on one of the beige sofas situated next to the glass coffee table. She had been looking down at the binder she had shown him in their last session, reading over something intently before the sound of the door opening had her looking upwards and then smiling. 
“Hello Jimin,” she greeted, to which he gave her a curt nod. 
Thankfully, Lauren had already situated herself on the sofa facing away from the door, allowing Jimin to sit on the one that gave him a view of both the entrance and the window at the same time. Even in his sour mood, he was able to appreciate the gesture. 
He knew Lauren was studying him, taking in his sudden attitude, but to his surprise she didn’t call him out on it. Instead, she closed the binder and placed it beside her on the sofa, bringing a much thinner notebook onto her lap in its place.
“Did you complete the Impact Statement worksheet I assigned in the last session?” She asked, to which Jimin nodded. 
He had avoided starting it until the last minute, something he knew Lauren wouldn’t approve of considering she had given him that big speech about avoidance and how it wasn’t helping him. He just couldn’t help it, he’d spent years trying to rid his mind of that night’s memories. Anything that reminded him of it was discarded, any person that reminded him of it was avoided. Even the house had been sold the second it was passed down to him. So doing this Impact Statement? Something that would not only remind him about it, but make him think about it to a deeper extent… it had been hard. 
“Could you read your Impact Statement out loud?”
Jimin’s eyebrows pulled together at the random request, confused as to why that was necessary. He wasn’t in kindergarten anymore, where they would make his class take turns reading various children’s books to each other. 
He shifted in his seat, clearly uncomfortable with the request. But he couldn’t make a fuss about it. He needed to give this therapy thing a genuine try, especially considering the enormous attack he had this morning. 
Jimin brought out the statement from his school bag, unfolding it slowly. He cleared his throat before finally following along the hastily written words. 
“This traumatic experience happened because I was stupid and did something horrible. I knew that my father wasn’t himself, I knew that he was under the influence, and yet I still ended up murdering him, my own father, like some kind of psychopath. Saying that that makes me a horrible person feels like an understatement, because being a killer is one thing, but being able to kill your family? That must make me even worse than a murderer. I feel like I don’t deserve anything good because of it. If anything, the world should bring me my karma and just end it already. I think that sometimes… that because of what I did, someone is just silently watching me and waiting for the right moment to get back at me. I feel like I’m never safe, like I constantly have to be on guard whenever I’m out. I feel like people should think the same about me too, they shouldn’t trust me either. My past is evidence enough that I might just lose it and hurt someone. I would hate to do that to Taehyung especially, the only person that’s genuinely been there for me. But anyways, the gist of it is that I’m not a good person. I make bad decisions. I feel unsafe all the time, especially when I’m around other men. Sometimes when I’m out I can imagine every grown man that looks my way hates me the same way my dad did, and that they’d go after me the first chance they got. I don’t want to get close to people because I feel like if I build any kind of genuine relationship, I’ll end up hurting them. That’s why I don’t think Taehyung should have a friend like me, that he deserves better. I don’t know how to make things better. I don’t think I’ll ever be normal again.”
The room fell quiet as Jimin set the paper down on the coffee table, wanting it away from him immediately. He was relieved that he was finally done with this assignment, though he hadn’t noticed how much he had ended up writing despite the limited amount of time he had to complete the worksheet. 
“What did it feel like to write and then read the Impact Statement aloud?” Lauren asked, an expression of complete neutrality. He couldn’t help but feel grateful that she wasn’t disgusted by him. 
Or at least she wasn’t showing it. 
“It was hard,” Jimin admitted, gaze travelling everywhere but her, “honestly I didn’t start the worksheet until just an hour before I came here.”
Lauren surprisingly nodded, “the good thing is that you completed it nonetheless. It is difficult work, Jimin, and you were able to get through it. That takes a lot of strength.”
“But I should remind you that avoidance only helps in maintaining PTSD symptoms, right?”
Jimin nodded. 
“How do you feel after reading the Impact Statement?” She asked. 
“A little less anxious,” Jimin replied, though it was more the fact that he was relieved it was over than anything else. Whether his improved feelings were because the Impact Statement had actually helped or because of the relief he felt from it being over, there was no doubt that he felt better now compared to the anxiety he had been feeling when walking into this room. 
“If doing the assignment in this way made you a little less anxious, then I wonder what it would have been like to have completed the assignment earlier in the week?” Lauren wondered out loud, but she didn’t dwell on it for long. She was clearly keen on changing the topic. 
“Now, earlier it seemed that you might have been upset about something. Could you explain to me why that was?”
“It’s nothing,” Jimin said, shaking his head as he leaned back against the sofa. But he could feel his blood begin to boil once again, his thoughts from earlier apparently the flame. His anger simmered to the surface and, before he knew it, he was blurting everything out. 
“It’s just… I was talking to this classmate of mine earlier today, just a normal conversation, and she told me something about her dad that kind of pissed me off.”
Lauren tilted her head, “can you tell me what she told you that made you so angry?”
Your words from earlier filled his mind once again, bringing the anger along with them. He had been furious throughout the rest of the school day, and all throughout the ride here, with your words and their implications repeating over and over in his head.
Jimin suddenly stood up and walked over to the window, his anger making him want to move around. 
“The thing is, she’s actually this girl I hooked up with at a party last Friday,” he started to explain, not realising that he had begun pacing around, “I’d ended up taking her home that night because she didn’t really seem like she could get there on her own, so I just casually asked her about how her dad had reacted to her getting home so late. She started telling me about how her dad hadn’t been home that night because he’s a truck driver. In fact, she said that he usually wasn’t home at all throughout the week, and sometimes he didn’t even come back on the weekends that he’s supposed to.”
Jimin spun around towards Lauren, who had shifted so that she was still facing him, “can you believe that? What kind of father would leave their kid alone for weeks at a time? And does he even know what his own daughter has been doing in his absence? She uses, you know. I bet he has no clue.”
“But of course he doesn’t,” Jimin scoffed, “just one of the millions of examples of a grown man being absolutely useless and incompetent as a father.”
He turned to look outside once again, trying to focus on anything that could calm down his racing heart. 
“Do you feel that way about your own father?” He heard Lauren ask from behind him. 
“Obviously. He beat my mom, and then he beat me. That didn’t exactly make him father slash husband of the year. Nothing could justify his actions,” Jimin reasoned. 
“Do you feel that your actions that night also can’t be justified?”
He paused, the question catching him off guard. Slowly, Jimin faced Lauren once again, “well yes, I’m not different from him. If anything I’m worse. He beat people. I murdered him.”
Lauren’s gaze bored into him in an almost unnerving way before she spoke, “‘murder.’ That’s a strong word.”
“It’s appropriate in this context.” 
“From what you’ve told me, it seems like you killed your father after he had begun to hurt your girlfriend-”
“Ex,” Jimin said, his gaze not meeting hers, “ex girlfriend.”
“Ex girlfriend,” Lauren corrected, “your actions occurred in a very specific place and time, and under certain circumstances.”
“Yeah, but he still died. And I’m the one that killed him.”
“Yes, he died, and it seems, at least in part, because of your actions. Does that make you a murderer?”
“Yes,” Jimin answered straight away, not comprehending what was so hard to understand, “I took a bat to his head, and then he died. That’s murder. And that’s worse than anything he had ever done to me.”
“Really? You think it’s worse?” Lauren asked, her voice suddenly quieter. For the first time since these sessions started, Jimin thought he might have caught a little sadness in her expression. But the moment he caught it the expression disappeared, tucked back under that blanket of neutrality that he had become so used to. Distantly, he wondered if he had imagined it or not. 
“On one hand, people were hurt. On the other hand, someone was killed. Obviously both situations aren’t good since people were hurt either way. But I killed him, he didn’t kill anyone.”
“It is true that the outcomes are different,” Lauren agreed, “but it’s the context that I wonder about.”
Jimin’s brows furrowed, “what do you mean?”
“Do you think what the intention was in those situations matters, regardless of the outcome?”
“No,” Jimin replied firmly, pulling back on the frustration in his tone,“in one case someone was killed. In another, no one was killed.”
Lauren paused for a moment, seemingly studying him with her characteristically neutral expression. When nothing was said for a few seconds, she clasped her fingers together before resting them over her lap professionally, “while it is true that your father died, and that your actions played a role in it, I think we might slightly disagree on the definition of the term ‘murder.’ It is apparent that his death has been a very difficult thing for you to accept, and that you are trying to make sense of that. From what you’ve told me, the sense that you appear to have made of his death is that you are a ‘murderer.’ I believe this is a good example of one of the stuck points that seem to have prevented you from recovering from this traumatic event. We’ll definitely be spending more time together on understanding your part in his death.”
Lauren then began to explain something about how important it was to be able to identify and label his emotions and thoughts, but Jimin’s thoughts were too stuck on her earlier words to pay any attention. He wondered about how intentions might or might not matter in the context of whether a death is considered a murder or not. When a person participates in an action that ends up with another person dead, he was pretty sure that classified the situation as a murder. He couldn’t really understand where the nuances existed in a situation like this. 
But then again, Lauren’s suggestion hadn’t been too crazy of a thought either. If a person didn’t intend to kill the other, then would it still be considered a murder?
Had he intended to kill his father that night? Jimin wanted to say no and deny such a thing, because he really hadn’t wanted to do that. But he had taken a wooden baseball bat straight to his father’s skull, what other outcome had Jimin been expecting? Maybe intention did matter in general, but in Jimin’s case he concluded it made no difference. 
“How do you feel about the death of your father?” Lauren asked randomly, catching Jimin’s straying attention. He had no clue what the context behind the question was since his thoughts had been elsewhere while she had been explaining it, which had caught him off guard.
“Um,” Jimin paused, having to think about it for a moment, “I know he did horrible things to me, like I’m aware his actions were wrong, but… a part of me felt a little saddened by his death. Maybe not because of losing him as a person, but losing him meant that I had lost the last of my family. It does make me feel sad when I think about it.”
Lauren nodded encouragingly, “and that is a completely natural reaction to have when you feel that you’ve lost something. It’s good to feel that sadness and let it run its course.”
Jimin let a breathy chuckle escape his lips, though there was no humour behind it, “feeling sad isn’t exactly something I enjoy- actually I prefer to avoid feeling anything at all. It’s just easier that way.”
Lauren crossed her leg over the other, continuing to focus on Jimin as she brought her clasped hand over her lap once again, “have you ever allowed yourself to feel sad?”
He shook his head, explaining that he’s always preferred avoiding anything and everything that had to do with intense feelings like that. Even the frustration he had shown earlier was a generally rare occurrence. 
“Then if you’ve never allowed yourself to feel your emotions, how do you know that it would be easier not to feel them?”
Jimin was silent, processing the logic behind her words once again. He was starting to realise that therapy was a lot more logical than what he had initially thought.
“From what you’ve told me, avoiding your feelings hasn’t helped you very much so far. Maybe allowing yourself to feel the natural feelings associated with the traumatic event may help you recover from what happened?”
“Maybe…” He relented, knowing that her reasoning made sense to him. 
But Jimin still couldn’t help but feel anxious at the thought of feeling his emotions. He didn’t even know if he’d ever truly felt them before. With a father that had been beating him for as long as he could remember, it really had just become easier to numb himself to the pain. He was scared of revisiting that pain, he realised. The pain that he’d been trying to run away from his whole life.
Lauren opened her binder to bring out a few sheets that were similar to the Impact Statement worksheet she had given him in their last session, except they clearly had a different purpose. She called them “A-B-C” Sheets, which again reminded Jimin of kindergarten, and explained how to go about completing them properly. She also explained how they were meant to help him begin to identify the things he was telling himself and his subsequent emotions before they had exchanged pleasantries and Jimin had walked out of the room.
Unlike the last session, where he had rushed through the door at light speed, Jimin took his time walking through the hallways and out of the building. This time his mind was filled with questions of murder and intention. He thought about feeling his feelings, and how long it had been since he had lost the ability to do so. He thought about you and your dad. He thought about everything.  
There was just so much to think about. 
So much to think about indeed.  
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byuljoonie · 4 months
Text
Heart 2 Heart // jhs
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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
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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.”
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yoongiofmine · 8 months
Text
Oh, Darling! | MYG | One
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Pair: Professor!Yoongi  x Student!Reader 
Summary: Starting your second semester at one of South Korea’s most prestigious universities should be stressful enough. Between juggling classes, good grades and a social life, your plate was full. Hoping to spice up your academic career, you thought it was a good idea to enroll as an assistant for your literature professor, whom you've held a very secret and very forbidden crush on for the past several months. What will happen now that you’re forced to work closely together? And what if your crush isn’t as one sided as you thought?
Genre: Series, fluff, angst, smut, non idol au, university au.
Chapter Warnings: Professor Min, long hair Yoongi (both are good warnings okay?). Smut. 
WC: 9k 
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MARCH 12TH | 21:17
Enrolling on a tutoring program seemed like a simple idea at the time. 
All you had to do was come into class a few days a month, for a subject you had already taken last semester, and help newer students in exchange of extra credit and a hefty recommendation letter that would spruce up your resume. You have done really well in Modern Korean Literature in the past, so you shouldn’t have any trouble helping others learn. 
Every now and then, however, the professor would need your help outside of the classroom; for grading papers, helping format and fact-check exams, plan activities and so on. 
And it was at those times that you really struggled. 
Professor Min was different from the other teachers at your university. 
For starters, he was in his early thirties; unlike most of the school board that were already pushing their mid fifties. And he was gorgeous. The level of handsomeness that made girls fail his class for not paying attention to what he was teaching and some guys would do a double take when he walked past in the Seoul National University corridors. 
Min Yoongi was also a brilliant man. 
With titles and impressive degrees, the man was nothing short of a genius. On top of teaching classes at SNU –ones that had a waiting list for enrolment– he was also a very talented author with best sellers under his belt. 
All that paired up with his gentle nature, sharp tongue and his overall presence did not do well for your ever growing crush on the man. 
And as much as you knew nothing could ever happen between you –the few years apart in age and the risk of losing your spot in the university and his job making it impossible for you to even harbor any hope– you did catch him looking at you every now and then, and you were sure he did flirt with you at least once or twice before. 
“I can’t believe you’re ditching us for this.” Jungkook, your twin flame, cousin, and dorm-mate was saying as he parked his car in the university parking lot. 
“I need the extra credit, Kook.” 
To that, the man sitting behind you in the backseat scoffed. “We both know that’s not true. Just admit you’re in love with your professor and go.” 
“I’m not!” you groaned, turning around to squint your eyes at Taehyung. “You guys are just upset because you won’t get free drinks without me, but you won’t even miss me.”
“Excuse you, we’re perfectly capable of getting free drinks on our own, but it helps when you’re friends with the bartender.” Tae threw back, but Jungkook was still pouting. 
“Just tell Minie I sent you and he’ll hook you up.” 
The noise Jungkook let out at the mention of your bartender best friend was a perfect mix between a screech and a grunt. You most definitely weren’t the only one with an unrequited crush. 
“Alright, see you guys tomorrow. Thanks for the ride, Kook.” 
“Yeah, yeah, goodbye, traitor.” 
You were laughing at his pout as you got out of the car, feeling the cold winds of March kissing your bare legs. 
It was past ten at night as you made it to campus, walking into the building of Languages and Literature to find it deserted. It wasn’t your first time between these walls so late at night, but it was definitely a first for you on a Saturday. 
You should be annoyed, really, since you were really looking forward to the night out with your friends. But Professor Min seemed so desperate when he texted you an hour ago that you had no choice but to ask Jungkook to turn around and drop you off at university instead. 
Your knock on the professor’s private office was soft, but you knew he caught it as you heard steps from the inside. A second later and he was opening the heavy doors with a swish. 
“You’re here, good.” the man offered you a tight lipped smile as he pushed the door open for you to come inside. “I’m really sorry to text you at such short notice, I wouldn’t have if it wasn’t important–” 
“It’s okay, professor.” you assured as you walked deeper into the office, dropping your small purse on the corner of the brown leather couch. “What can I help you with?” 
You turned back around to catch him staring at your legs. It was just for a second, and you were sure it meant nothing, but it still sent a funny feeling up your spine. He also didn’t answer you right away, making you wonder if he paid attention to your words at all. It gave you some time to pay attention to him. 
Professor Min had a style that bordered the fine line between casual and formal. His black pants were tailored, and his open blazer didn’t have a single crease. But the white t-shirt underneath and the same color sneakers broke the formality of it all. His hair was so long it started to touch his shoulders, the fringe pushed back and away from his forehead; a little messy from running his hands through. 
“Were you heading somewhere?” 
His question was clearly aimed at your dress, much shorter than you would ever wear on a normal day at university. It was also lathered with guilt, so you shook your head in a lie that you knew wouldn’t stick. 
“So that’s all for me?” Professor Min asked with a raised eyebrow and tilt of his head, catching your lie, pressing for the truth. If only he knew the effect his words had on you. 
“Don’t people say to dress for the job you want?” 
That made him laugh; a scratchy sound deep from his throat as he walked past you and towards his desk at the back of the room. 
“And what is it you want?” 
Not to burst into flames with the way the man rolled the stiff sleeves of his blazer up to his elbows, revealing pale arms, lean muscles and veins.
“To help you.” you finally said after what felt like a too long staring session. “You seemed a little rushed through the text, Professor Min.” 
“Just Yoongi is fine.” the man said, rounding the table to fiddle with a stack of papers he was clearly working on before your arrival. You were about to protest, and he sensed it when he said: “I clearly messed up your Saturday night plans, the least I can do is let you off from being so formal.” 
“Yoongi.” you repeated with a small nod, wanting to test how it sounded on your tongue. 
The man had been your professor last semester, on the subject you were now helping him with, and you were one of his monitors ever since the start of this term. But you had never called him by name, too scared of what it might do to your poor delusional self.
"I really need to finish this chapter by Monday, and I also need to grade these exams by Monday." the man said with a tired sigh, feeling the need to explain himself: "I'm usually more organized than this… My editor, however, apparently not. He didn't tell me the deadline was cutting close– and you don't care about that, I'm stalling." 
Yoongi’s new sigh made your heart clench for the man. He was clearly stressed and you had noticed the two empty coffee cups by his trash and the half full one sitting on a coaster on his dark wood desk. You knew he was working on a new book, even if he was very tight lipped about what it was. 
Authors and their secret projects, you supposed. 
“I was under the impression that tutors weren’t supposed to grade the exams of other students?” you asked sheepishly, standing in front of his desk. 
“I trust you to not give your friends higher grades than what they deserve.” 
“I wouldn’t.” you assured him, eyes widening a fraction. 
“It will be our little secret, then.” 
Professor Min gave you the stack of papers you were supposed to grade, as well as the cheat-sheet with his own answers so you could base your revision off of them. He let you borrow a few pens, since you weren’t exactly prepared with your backpack and pencil case when coming over tonight, and you moved back to the couch. 
Sharing his desk was out of question, since he had way too many things on its surface and you guessed he needed that kind of organized mess to work. You settled on the floor, between the leather couch and the low coffee table, using it as a makeshift desk. The plush rug felt nice against your legs, stopping the cold of the tiles to get to you. 
Sitting down was a bit of a struggle, since you had to try and keep your modesty, but there was no way you could stop your dress from riding up your thighs at least a little bit. This was your Second Date dress, the one you felt the best in and the one that had guaranteed you getting fucked at the end of the night in every ocasion you wore it. 
You didn’t intend on wearing it for your professor and breaking the lucky cycle, but you didn’t exactly have time to go home and change before swooping in to his rescue. 
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MARCH 12TH | 22:21
The first time it happened, you chucked it off to your own wishful thinking. 
You were distracted with the tenth exam, words starting to jumble together as you tried to make sense of Kim Sora’s chicken scratch, huffing to yourself in frustration when you looked up and to the side. Yoongi had his eyes on you, over the screen of his laptop, averting his gaze way too quickly for someone who had nothing to hide. 
It was still enough to bring a flush to your cheeks, but you ignored it in favor of believing it to be a moment of distraction from his hard work. 
The second time it happened, you had just adjusted yourself on the rug, stretching your legs in front of you and under the table, crossing your heels on top of the other. It was pure curiosity that made you look up at Yoongi again. This time, his eyes stayed on your legs a bit longer, flitting to your face and holding your stare for all of two seconds. 
Two seconds that felt like minutes and made you want to squirm on your makeshift seat. 
The third time it happened, it was your own fault. 
You were about to start grading Jungkook’s exam, holding back the want to text him about it and tease him, when Yoongi groaned. It was a groan of frustration, paired with his knobby fingers running through his already messy, dark hair. But it still made you look up and wonder just what other sounds he might make. 
Like a magnet, the beautiful man kept your eyes stuck to him. More specifically, on the way his pink bottom lip looked a little swollen from all the bitting he was doing on his focus. The noise of his rushed typing on his keyboard helped your entranced state and you couldn’t look away. Not even when his tongue poked out of his mouth to lick between his lips. 
Your heart was trying to beat out of your chest, completely freezing as your gaze traveled up his cute button nose and stopped at his feline-like eyes. Professor Min was looking at you, having caught your stare. And he held it again, but you didn’t run from it. Not when you had caught him twice before. 
Your lips moved of their own accord, as if you wanted to say something, anything. The movement dragged his dark eyes down your face, completely choking you up. Your mouth closed and you knew your face looked as red as it felt. Yoongi let out a small hum, something you could only interpret as satisfaction, and got back to working on his task. 
The buzzing on your lap stopped you from being mortified and you looked down to see a string of text messages from your friend’s group chat. 
Joonie [22:50]: whts this I hear about u ditching us to sit on a professor’s dick? 
You [22:51]: tell @tae to stfu there will be none of that! I’m working 
Tae [22:51]: I take offense to that, how do you know it wasn’t kook??
You [22:51]: bc I’m sure he’s either wasted by now or making heart eyes at Jimin by the bar 
Your confirmation came in the form of a video. The content was blurry and dark, no doubt taken in the bar they were in, and you could slightly see Jungkook’s broad frame and half of his face. Turning the volume of your phone down enough so only you could hear it, you pressed play. 
“Babyyyy, we miss youuuu.” you could hear Jimin’s voice yelling at the phone. 
“No we don’t!” Jungkook was clearly drunk, with the way he got in front of Tae’s phone and blocking your views of the blonde man behind the bar. A second later, your roommate was whispering: “Yes we do, but don’t tell her–”
Your giggle was easy and light hearted as you blocked your screen again without answering. As much as you didn’t regret coming over to take some of the weight off your professor’s shoulder, you did feel a little fomo. 
“That your boyfriend?” Yoongi’s raspy voice pulled you out of your own thoughts, making you jolt a tiny bit. 
“Uh, no.” you pretended not to understand your need to clarify: “I don’t have a boyfriend.” 
“Mm.” 
His little hum told you absolutely nothing. Was he relieved? Disinterested? Only asked to be polite? Before he could close himself inside his bubble again, you asked:
“Do you like jjapaguri?”
“Yeah.” 
“With pork or steak?” you pulled your phone again, opening the food delivery app. 
“Pork– wait, why?” 
His attention was on you again and you lifted yourself from the floor, shoes getting lost a while ago, to sit on the couch. 
“I know a good restaurant nearby and they deliver until pretty late.” you explained, scrolling for the menu items you just mentioned. 
“Miss Yn–”
“I thought we didn’t need to be so formal tonight, Yoongi.” you stopped his denying with a crooked smile. “Besides, you messed up my Saturday night plans, the least you could do is have dinner with me.” 
You knew you were pushing a bit, didn’t know if he’d take your small tease as petulance or as a joke. You’d never talk like this to any of your other professors; but then again, you never stayed past midnight on a now-sunday with any of them. 
Yoongi regarded you for a moment, stretching his legs in front of him and making his chair creak when he leaned back against the backrest. 
“I could use a break, I guess.” his agreement made you smile and resume your ordering. “But at least let me pay.” 
“It’s fine.” 
You did live on a budget, and had to pay more to have a room for yourself in the co-ed dormitory you resided in. But you could still afford to buy two bowls of noodles from a restaurant down the street. 
Feeling pretty bold, and hoping Yoongi might catch the implications behind your words, you said:
“You can pay for dinner next time.” 
“Okay.” 
Not even twenty minutes later you were already making it back to Yoongi’s office after picking up the food from the delivery guy at the front door. The string-bean like man told you he thought it was a prank order, since no one had ever ordered food this late to be delivered at the university and that he was thankful you weren’t a ghost. 
You were still laughing about it as you pushed the heavy doors to the office with your hip, almost stilling in place when you watched your professor ridding himself of his blazer. 
“I got the drinks.” the man said as he pointed to the two cans of soda on top of the center table that had been ridden of all the papers you were grading before. 
“Good, thanks.” 
You sat on the couch, leaning over the small table to place the take-out bags and pull out the plastic bowls of greasy noodles. Yoongi sat next to you, only half a cushion between the two of you. 
“It’s just from the vending machine down the hall.” he said nonchalantly, as if it wasn’t a big deal. “I remember seeing you drinking Sprite, and I didn’t know what else you liked, so.” 
“Sprite is perfect, Yoongi.” you said with a smile that you tried to contain. “It’s my favorite, actually.” 
“My best friend loves it too.” he said with a small scoff and a roll of his eyes. “I like coke better.” 
“At least one of you has good taste.” your scoff slipped out as you handed the man his bowl. “Diet coke?”
“When you get to a certain age, you have to start looking after your figure.” 
You had to bite your tongue to stop the comment that was about to jump from it. With the way the white t-shirt fell over Yoongi’s thick shoulders, straining against his arms, and resting over a clearly toned chest, you doubted he had much trouble staying fit. 
You ate in silence at first, savoring the noodles and munching on the pork meat. Albeit greasy, it was surprisingly tender and practically melted on your mouth. Yoongi seemed to be enjoying himself too, with the little hums he kept letting out, eyebrows kissing high on his smooth forehead. 
“I didn’t realize I was this hungry.” he commented while pausing his chewing in order to drink from his can.
“When was the last time you ate?” you wanted to know. 
His forehead creased as if deep in thought, until he said: “I honestly don’t remember. Does coffee count?” 
“Absolutely not.” you reprimanded. 
“Time flies when you’re hating absolutely everything you write.” he mused, almost bitterly. 
“Is your new book giving you trouble?” you asked before pushing a chunky piece of meat past your lips. 
“Hm. Yeah.” Yoongi seemed to ponder his answer for a while, finally admitting: “Trying to write my first novel is going a little harder than I expected.” 
“A novel?!” 
You couldn’t stop your excitement at the news. You read three of Yoongi’s previous books; one of them was on the reading list for the class you took with him, and the other two were purely for selfish reasons. They were all textbooks talking about Korean literature, modern and classic, and it still hooked you up on every word. Surely having seen the man behind the words helped a lot, but you still enjoyed them. 
But to know he was working on a novel? That absolutely interested you, not to mention how curious you were to ask about the plot and genre. 
“Don’t get so excited, it might never see the light of day.” his scratchy laugh made you squirm a little and you had no reasonable explanation as to why. 
“I don’t believe you’re having that much trouble.” you said as you opened your can of Sprite, holding it away from you and from him to avoid any spilling; never one to trust a vending machine can. 
Yoongi chewed for a while, forehead still creasing from the taste, before saying: “I wasn’t struggling at first, but my editor had me rewrite the whole thing. Well, the whole five chapters I had so far.” 
“I can see why that would stress you out…” 
“It’s a mystery book. Hoseok wants me to add romance to it.” it sounded like a complaint more than sharing, but you guessed he was holding onto those feelings of frustration for too long, so you let him talk. “But I guess sex sells. And I know he has a point, I just wish I wasn’t struggling so much.” 
“I could… Take a look at it for you?” you offered, bracing yourself for the rejection that was clearly coming when he didn’t answer right away. “I mean, I am a literature major and I took a course in creative writing–”
“Okay.” 
“–but if you don’t– wait, really?” you blinked and he almost looked… endeared? 
“There’s a reason I picked you over the dozens of applicants for this spot, Yn.” Yoongi admitted, finishing the last scoop of noodles. “You can read a bit of it and I’ll finish grading the papers.” 
You nodded, closing the lid on your half finished bowl of noodles. “I already finished it, but wrote the scores with a pencil so all you have to do is cover it with a pen. I thought people might notice if they got them back with another handwriting that wasn’t yours.”
“Smart.” 
“Didn’t wanna get you in trouble.” 
Yoongi smiled softly and went back to his table, leaning over his computer and clicking a few things here and there while you cleaned up the coffee table of any trash and leftovers. 
When you joined him on the other side of the desk, Yoongi looked like he was ready to bolt. 
“I won’t be too mean about it.” you said in what you hoped would be taken as a joke. “I’m sure you have nothing to worry about anyway.” 
“Hold that thought.” 
The man let you sit at his desk as he took your place on the couch. He had his back to you as he picked up the exams, most likely scared to see your reactions to what he wrote. And as much as his back muscles called to you, straining against the fabric of his shirt, you wanted to read the first chapters of the novel. 
Focusing on it was a tricky task at first, when you were surrounded by so many of Yoongi’s things. If you took anything other than a shallow breath, you were engulfed by the smell of musk, grapefruit and something woody that was just so Yoongi it made you a little dizzy. 
You weren’t a particularly slow reader in the first place, having read the fifth Harry Potter book in less than forty eight hours, but you were whooshing through this. Yoongi had a way with words that really captured you, that put you inside his pages and that really painted a picture. There were cliffhangers and parts that made you chuckle and others that made you gasp. 
In fact, you let out so many noises that made Yoongi turn around and stare at you again. 
“Oh, it’s over already?” you pouted when you got to the last page of the document, wanting more. “Okay, I see what you mean.” 
“It’s shit, innit?” 
“No, Yoongi.” you chuckled at his dejected face, getting up from his chair and immediately missing his scent. “But I can tell that you added the love interest as a second thought. It’s not so… Natural for the reader.” 
“I know.” 
He groaned in frustration for the tenth time tonight, hiding his face on his hands, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. You sat next to him, nibbling on your bottom lip. 
“I think it would help if you added subtle hints that they are attracted to each other. It would make it easier for the romance to blossom down the line.” 
“Subtle hints?” 
You nodded while you wanted to laugh. Clearly Yoongi didn’t read enough romance novels to know what you were talking about. It didn’t seem like his style either, but if he wanted to write about romance, he had to read about it. Or he had to experience it. 
“Yeah. Like furtive looks when someone thinks the other doesn’t notice it.” you stated and his cheeks gained a slight pink hue you didn’t miss. “And small touches.” 
Yoongi sat against the back of the couch again, hands resting on his thighs, fingers twitching. He still looked utterly confused. You didn’t really blame him, having a theory that when your professor wanted something, he went after it. You could read him like a man that didn’t waste any time beating about the bush, he was honest and sometimes brutally so. Why would he be any different when it came to his love life? 
Biting the bullet, and before you could really think about how much of a bad idea this was, your said: 
“I think it’s getting a little late and I should go.” contradicting your words, you placed a soft hand on his forearm. It was only there for a moment, but you made a point of dragging your thumb over his heating skin. “Let me know if you need anything else, okay?” 
Yoongi seemed dumbfounded, you had never touched him like this. Or in any other way for that matter. This whole night passed as a blur to him. 
From the moment you were knocking on his door wearing this damn dress, to the way you didn’t mind how much shorter it got as you moved about his space, to your gentleness and care when ordering dinner for the both of you. Everything was too much, while simultaneously not enough. 
Yoongi wasn’t blind, much less dumb. He knew the effect he had on students, and he knew the effect he had on you. From the way your face and neck gained a cute pink shade whenever he complimented you for a job well done after one of his classes, or how shy you seemed to be when you first started working together on the monitoring program. 
But he didn’t expect you to make the first move like this. To touch him like this. It was fleeting and it was barely there, a touch so subtle that he barely missed it. Still, it was enough to set his nerve endings on fire, send his brain into overdrive and a rush straight to his–
Hold on. 
Subtle hints. Small touches. 
Oh. 
Ohh.
You got up from the couch, your bare legs brushing his knees as you passed by him and Yoongi didn’t know if he should feel relief or disappointment that you were only showing him what you meant when it came to your advice about his book. 
It most definitely wasn’t the first option. 
But he wished for it to be, because the alternative was much too dangerous for him to even entertain the idea of. You were his student. He was in a position of power over you in so many ways, he didn’t want to force you into anything you didn’t want. 
He couldn’t find out if you wanted the same thing as he did. 
And Yoongi actually appreciated how much you helped him, and he really appreciated this job. While getting involved with you wouldn’t be illegal –you weren’t a minor for a few years now– it was imperative that he didn’t think of you in any way other than his best student. 
“See what I did there?” you turned around to face him, dropping whatever act you had put on to show him the subtle touches you were on about. 
But you looked so happy while at it that he didn’t hold back his own smile. One that would give him a lot of shit for if Hoseok was there to witness it. 
“Yeah, I think it’ll help.” he nodded, wiping his sweaty palms on his pants. “But you’re right, it is quite late.” 
“Oh, yeah, I didn’t really notice it.” you looked around to check the digital clock on the cream wall, the blue LED light marking 00:37. “Guess I can call a cab, it’s still too early for my friends to be leaving the bar.”
“So you were going somewhere.”
You smiled sheepishly, offering him a little shrug as he got up from the couch to close up his notebook and gather his things so he could leave too. 
“Don’t you want to go meet them?” Yoongi wondered while placing a fountain pen on the breast pocket of his discarded jacket. 
“Nah, at this point they are mostly too drunk to be fun when I’m this sober.” you chuckled, fixing your shoes on your feet. 
“I’ll just drive you home, then?” 
Your breath got caught on your throat. It wasn’t a question, Yoongi was doing what he wanted and he was driving you home. The assertiveness made the butterflies go a little haywire on your stomach, and you had no option but to nod. 
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MARCH 13TH | 01:09
The Languages and Literature department wasn’t that far from your dorm building, especially not at this hour of the night, when streets were empty and students were either already sleeping or out enjoying the city nightlife. 
Yoongi’s car was clean and comfortable, nothing flashy or ostentatious, but he did have a built-in GPS and a very modern sound system. He kept a mellow R&B playlist low on the background as he drove and you couldn’t help but stare at the veins in his arm as he held the steering wheel with one hand. 
In such a small space everything seemed heightened. From the sound of your own heavy breathing, to the rustle of the plastic bag with your leftover dinner resting by your feet. But it was Yoongi’s soft hums when he liked a song and the amplified scent oozing off of him that was making you go a little crazy. 
When the car came to a halt a few stops away from your building, slightly hidden behind a large tree and away from the nearest street lamp, you wanted to find an excuse, anything to stay there and prolong your goodbyes. You wouldn’t have another class with Yoongi for a few days, since he liked to rotate his two assistants, and you didn’t know when you’d have a one on one session with him again. 
The professor didn’t seem eager to let you go either, when he turned the engines off and cut the lights. 
“I hope your wife won’t mind you staying out so late.” you heard yourself saying, heart beating quickly on your chest at the prospects of a confirmation you didn’t want. 
Yoongi let out a breathy laugh, pushing his hair away from his forehead again. “Don’t have one.” 
“Your girlfriend then?” 
“Not that either.” 
If Yoongi thought your questions were invasive or out of line, he didn’t show it. When you removed your seatbelt and let it slide back into place, the man turned slightly to the side. To stare at you. To wait for your next move. When you didn’t make any motion of leaving his car, he clicked his own seatbelt free. 
Was he expecting you to invite him up? You doubted it, since he was careful enough to park so far away from the entrance of your dorm building, where it was safe from prying eyes. 
“Yn.” he said, and you liked the way your name sounded in the solitude of his car. 
“Yes, Professor Min?” 
Whatever question he had seemed to die on his tongue and you basked in the way his gaze grew darker. You licked your lips out of habit, a movement that caught his sharp attention immediately. 
You couldn’t tell when you started leaning into his space. Maybe it was before his warning call to your name, even. Your heart was pumping so much blood through you that your pulse was buzzing in your ears. 
“Told you to not call me that when it’s just the two of us.” his tone was low, teasing almost, and it sent a pool of heat right between your legs. 
“What do you want me to call you?” you were a breath away from whimpering, begging him to close the distance before you leaned all the way over the console of the car, you needed him to give you something. “Sir?”
The grunt that escaped his pretty lips made a new wave of arousal course through you, every cell on your body buzzing from the possibilities. 
Rationally, you knew you shouldn’t be this close. You should have left his car as soon as it parked, wished him good luck with his book and thanked him for the ride. But something was keeping you stuck to this seat, maybe the same thing that made him take off his seatbelt and not ask you to leave. 
It was pretty obvious to the two of you what was happening right now, the tension too thick to pretend it wasn't there, the elephant in the room too obnoxiously colored to ignore. 
“We can’t.” the man said, pale hand resting on your shoulder as if to stop you from coming any closer. 
But his thumb brushed your collarbone, his digits pressed against your skin, his eyes dropped to your lips. You wanted him so much. More than you ever wanted anything in your life. 
“Yoongi–” 
It was erotic, the way his name fell from your lips. A whine, a plea. 
One he didn’t have the strength to ignore. 
The hand on your shoulder slipped to the back of your neck, gentle, yet firm, pulling you closer to him the rest of the way so your lips could clash together at once. It was mind numbing and electrifying. His lips felt so soft against yours, but full of purpose as he slowly moved them over yours. 
Your hand rested on his thigh as you looked for balance, fingers digging into the hard flesh as you heard his groan against your lips. The hand on the back of your neck slipped into your hair, tilting your head to the side and you were gone. 
A soft gasp left your lips, giving Yoongi the perfect opportunity to push his tongue past your lips, licking into your mouth, rolling it over yours with so much want it left you breathless. It took you a few seconds for your brain to catch up; just as Yoongi was starting to pull back, you chased his lips again, taking his bottom one between your teeth. 
Maybe you were blinded by your crush on the man, drunk on desire, intoxicated by the thrill of making out with your professor, but you didn’t think that any other kiss you ever had compared to his. The way he had control over his tongue, how he knew exactly how to flick it, how fast or slow he should go. You didn’t want it to end, but you were losing your already short breath. 
“Tell me what you want.” Yoongi’s request was a low blow and he knew that. 
It was his way to alleviate his guilty conscience, letting you ask him what you wanted, instead of imposing his wants on you. It just so happened that apparently you both wanted the same thing. 
“Want you.” you told him meekly. As if you weren’t just biting on his lip two minutes ago. 
“‘m here.” 
You seemed to think about your options, looking around his car, to his lap, then at the steering wheel. He could almost see the calculations you were making behind your eyes, until you threw a glance to the back seat. Your silent request was understood and Yoongi let go of your neck so he could squeeze his way to the back of his car, falling to the middle seat with a less than attractive thud. 
You started giggling and Yoongi wanted to wipe it off your pretty, tantalizing lips. 
“Come here.” 
Despite your short dress, you maneuvered yourself with a lot more grace than he had, making him wonder just how many times you had done something like this before. It was a thought he quickly shook away. 
“Eager, are we?” you teased, settling over his lap, with a knee on each side of his narrow hips. 
“You’re one to talk.” was his comeback, and he knew he had to do better than that. But it wasn’t really his fault that all the blood seemed to be moving down and settling on his crotch. 
You laughed, all pretty and sweet, sitting your ass on top of his bulge and holding yourself by his shoulders. Yoongi’s hands were on your thighs and he didn’t know legs could feel this smooth and soft. The more his fingers inched up, the more he realized just how much your tiny dress has ridden up and laid bunched on your hips. 
The car was dark and the murky windows made it hard for the outside light to filter in, but he could still see the light material of your small panties. Pink and lacy. Cute. 
“Wanna kiss you again.” you were impatiently asking, slipping one of your hands into his hair. “God, always wanted to do this.” 
“Kiss me?” he asked with a cocked brow. 
“That too, but I mean your hair.” 
His chuckle was nice, all the way from deep in his chest. “You like it?” 
“So much.” 
This should be weird, you thought to yourself. You were sitting on your professor’s lap, about to have his tongue down your throat again. His hands were inching closer and closer to your ass, until he grabbed handfuls of it and pressed you harder against him, tearing a moan from you. 
But it wasn’t weird at all. 
Maybe you had imagined and fantasized about this so many times that it felt natural to you now that it was actually coming true. Surely you pictured Yoongi fucking you on a bed –or in the shower, or bent over his desk–, but the backseat of his car was just as exciting. 
“Still waiting.” 
Yoongi said with a lick to his lips, beaconing you closer and closer until you could feel his breath on your face. As he tried to close the rest of the space and reach for your lips, however, you held onto his long hair. Your pull made it impossible for his head to move any closer and the sting to his scalp made him growl. He liked that.
You giggled at the way his bottom lip pushed out just for a second and he caught himself pouting, rolling his eyes as if that reaction surprised even himself. 
“Yn–” 
The reprimand was interrupted as your lips searched for his tongue, latching onto it so you could suck on it slowly, head bobbing as your hips rocked on top of his lap. One of Yoongi’s hands stayed on your ass as the other continued up your back, testing his luck and moving to your front to rest on your ribs, the tips of his fingers brushing against the underside of your covered breasts. 
“This okay?” he asked breathlessly after retrieving his tongue from your mouth. 
You instantly missed it, but nodded. Pushing back from him, you took it upon yourself to slip the straps of your dress off your shoulders and pulled the top down, allowing your tits to spill and bounce free. 
You were used to boys ogling your chest, had gotten very positive reactions when revealing them. You were proud of what you had. But when it came to Yoongi, you guessed he had seen a lot more tits in his life than the younger men you were used to hooking up with. Thankfully, you didn’t have time to let insecurities get inside your head, not with the way his eyes widened ever so slightly as he cursed:
“Fucking hell.” 
“You like them?” you mirrored his question from before, grabbing your own tits and squeezing them together. 
Yoongi’s hips rutted up into you on pure reflex and you bit your bottom lip to stop a louder moan from escaping you. 
“You’re driving me crazy, you know that?” the man finally acted as you let your tits go to tangle your fingers in his hair again. His swollen lips touched your collarbones and both of his hands held your breasts. “Been teasing me all night with this fucking dress.”
“Yoongi–” 
You moaned his name as his pretty lips wrapped around one of your nipples and you cursed the car for being so dark so you couldn’t really see his face as well as you wanted to. But you could feel his tongue swirling around the bud, the scrape of his teeth, and you could hear the sucking noises mixing with your own pants. 
Both of you froze when another car drove by, his head lifting to look around as your heart sped up incredibly fast. It was enough to break the daze you were both under, the reality of what you were doing and where you were doing it hitting you right across the face. 
For a second you saw something akin to doubt crossing Yoongi’s face and it terrified you that he’d tell you to leave. What he said, though, lit up a whole new fire within you.  
“Wish I had all night to fuck you, but–” 
“I know.” your hand rushed to the buttons and zipper of his pants, lifting your hips from his lap so he could push them down to his knees alongside his underwear. “I don’t mind if it’s quick.” 
Yoongi didn’t want this to be quick, he didn’t want to rush it. He wanted to take you in every position imaginable, over and over again until he ruined you for anybody else. He was going to hell anyway, and he did not want to think about his conscience tomorrow morning –when he was sure reality of what you were doing would hit him like a fucking wrecking ball–, but his future was doomed anyways. 
He just didn’t know how much. 
You didn’t seem to have a problem with rushing, apparently, as you were balancing yourself in one leg, back pressed to the roof of his car as you pushed your underwear down your legs, letting them pool at your ankles. 
“Fuck.” he was cursing again, hand wrapping around his throbbing cock. 
Yoongi felt like a horny teenager all over again, only he was too damn awkward back then to have many experiences like this one. Someone like you would never have looked his way back then either. 
“Oh god, you’re big.” you were saying as you sat next to him on the backseat of the car. 
“Bet you say that to every guy.” Yoongi teased, finding his voice again. He leaned closer to you, lips chasing yours. 
You let him kiss you for a while, a new rush of slick flowing between your thighs with each new flick of his tongue. Even with your eyes closed, your small hand found his thigh, following it up until you found his cock. Yoongi groaned into your mouth as he let you keep the hold of it, palm rubbing at the head and spreading the pre-cum up and down his shaft as you stroke him languidly. 
“Only when I mean it.” you hushed, taking his bottom lip between your teeth and biting lightly. You let it wobble back into place before saying: “Really want to suck you off. And I don’t think I ever meant that before.” 
“Next time, I promise.” 
If you were being honest with yourself, you knew there wouldn’t be a next time. You could hardly even believe this was happening right now, let alone a second chance of fucking the hottest professor of SNU. But you’d take what you could get and if a quickie at the backseat of his car was all you had, you’d make the most of it. 
“Do you have a condom?” you asked him, ignoring the stubborn butterflies in your stomach. 
“If I have a– oh, shit.” Yoongi looked pained enough for you to know he didn’t have any protection on him. 
“Really? Don’t guys carry it with them at all times?” you mused, arching an eyebrow. 
“I wasn’t really planning on fucking anybody tonight.” he scoffed, making you bite your lip. 
“Aww, is that not why you called me over?” 
You fake pouted and his snort was cut off with the way your hand sped up its movements on his cock. Yoongi’s head fell back and you never saw a more delicious neck, or heard a more delicious whine. 
“I have one, hang on.” 
Reluctantly, you let his cock go, leaving it heavy and leaking resting against his lower stomach. You had to lean over the console of the car to reach your bag, ass practically on Yoongi’s face as your hip was stuck between the two front seats. Getting the damn thing was almost impossible with the way Yoongi’s hands went to your thighs and his face leaned in to lick between your folds. 
You had no warning, letting out a cross between a gasp of surprise and a moan of pleasure. 
“Stay like this for a bit.” he asked with a mumble. “Gotta taste you.” 
Yoongi held your hips in place as he lapped slowly, licking your pussy and sucking on your lips. Your position wasn’t the most comfortable, but you balanced yourself as best as you could, wanting to rock on his face to have more of whatever he was willing to give you. 
When his lips wrapped around your clit and really sucked, you bit your lips to stop a cry from being too loud. 
“Yoongi, I need you, please.” you somewhat begged.
“Come here, baby.” 
He gave your ass cheek a kiss and held your hips harder to pull you all the way to the backseat again. It wasn’t fair how your mind was swimming in bliss from that pet name alone. 
“Here.” you handed him the square packet and let him rip it with his teeth as you settled on his lap again. 
“So you were planning on getting fucked tonight?” 
You shrugged, ass on his knees as you watched his deft fingers roll the transparent latex down on his cock. 
“It was a hard week. Professor Hwang was really on my ass.” you said and scooted closer to Yoongi once his job was done. “And not in a fun way.” 
Yoongi laughed heartily, shoulders shaking as he held you up to hover over his cock. 
“Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you.” his lips touched your chest again, tongue searching for a nipple as his hand brushed the tip of his covered cock between your folds. Yoongi dragged it up and down, flicking your clit to make you tremble. You couldn’t take this teasing anymore, taking him in your own hands and lining him up with your entrance. “Wait, let me prep–”
“No time.” 
Yoongi watched you shake your head and he felt the way his tip breached your little hole. It was a sensory overload; you felt so fucking tight around him, the noise of your cunt swallowing him little by little was obscene, the whole car smelled of sweat and sex. 
He could tell you were putting on a brave face, but his eyes were used to the dark by now and he could see the frown on your forehead, the slight tremble on your thighs as you tried to pace yourself. 
“You’re doing so well.” he praised, soothing you with gentle kisses on your breasts and soft squeezes to your ass. “Just a little more.” 
“Not a little more–” you breathed in sharply. “Too big…”
“Shh, it’s okay, baby.” 
It was your own fault how much the stretch was stinging, Yoongi had offered to prep you. But you were stubborn and impatient, and each minute you stayed there was a minute too long. You didn’t plan on saying anything, but the campus security guard was famous for doing his rounds and making sure students weren’t doing anything illegal. 
And fucking inside a car, in the middle of the street, was definitely illegal. 
You hugged Yoongi by his neck, chest against chest, and bottomed out. Yoongi was thick and long and you knew he must be as pretty as the rest of him. It was a shame you wouldn’t get to see more of him; he still had his shirt on, for fucks sake. 
Resting your head against his shoulder, you took deep breaths, willing your pussy to get used to the stretch quicker. You needed him to move, you wanted him to pound you into next life and you really fucking needed to cum. You didn’t lie when you told him you had a long week; all the pent up stress and the many hours of sexual tension tonight were driving you up a figurative wall. 
“‘m good.” you told him. 
“Don’t lie.” 
“Don’t care.” you lifted your hips and sunk down again, whimpering the discomfort away. “Just fuck me, Yoongi.” 
“Remember that if you can’t walk tomorrow.” 
His warning was a contrast to the way his hands grabbed your ass again, keeping you in place as his hips started moving to fuck his cock into you. He started slow, but hit deep. The noise of skin hitting against skin was a distraction enough from the pain of the stretch and when Yoongi’s fingers slipped between your bodies to roll your clit, you completely forgot all about it.
You were squeezing him, moving in sync with his thrusts, alternating between bouncing up and down and rolling your hips. When you took control of your movements, rocking back and forward, Yoongi’s head fell backwards again, resting on the backrest. His long hair was sticking to his slightly damp skin and you just had to finally kiss his beautiful neck. 
You leaned in with purpose, moans being muffled by his skin as he took control of fucking you again. You covered his neck with open mouthed kisses, licking his salty skin, feeling his pulse under your lips. You kissed your way up to his ear, never having noticed before how he had two earrings dangling from his lobe; usually hidden by his hair. 
Taking them into your mouth, you let your tongue lick around his ear and you sucked on the lobe, pulling on the hoops with your teeth. Yoongi was a whiny mess under you, with deep groans and grunts as his thrusts became sloppy. 
“Not gonna last long–” 
“Please make me cum!” you begged in desperation, which made him laugh. 
“Don’t worry, baby.” his fingers found your clit again, rolling and rubbing it quick enough to make you see stars. “If it was up to me, I’d make you cum twice before I did.” 
“Fuckfuck–” you were holding onto him for dear life, nails sinking in on his shoulders as your open mouth pressed against his neck so your moans wouldn’t alert anybody outside. “So close, please, please–” 
“You’re milking my cock so hard, that’s it… Such a good girl–” Yoongi’s voice was hoarse, words delivered right to your ear as strong arms helped you ride him harder as he abused your bundle of nerves with pinches and flicks.  
His name fell from your lips like a prayer as your orgasm hit you hard. You choked up a sob, hugging the man harder, trembling in his arms as you felt wave after wave washing over you. Your release milked Yoongi’s own and you could feel his hips sputtering as a cacophony of ‘ah ah ah’ and heavy pants barely reached your buzzing ears. His swollen cock seemed to expand and throb inside of you, as he spilled into the condom. 
“That was so good.” you were more than breathless, whining with a high pitch as you moved off his lap and his softening cock slipped from your cunt. 
Yoongi had his eyes closed, head still resting back, not making a single move of getting dressed. You might think he fell asleep if it wasn’t for the slow blinking of his eyes as he fought for his breathing. It was your giggle that brought him back from whatever dimension his orgasm sent him to.
“You okay?” you checked and he nodded. “Want me to throw that out for you?” 
Yoongi blinked, brain taking a while to catch up to what you were offering. Then you nodded towards his dick, the messy and full condom having no trouble staying on with his natural girth. “Ah, no, it’s fine, I got it.” 
“Alright.” 
Your smile was so sweet and free of any guilt and responsibilities that it was easy to pretend you were someone he met at a bar and not someone who could potentially ruin his whole damn life if you told anybody about any of this. 
Stop. 
Not now. 
Yoongi just wanted to bask in the bliss a little more, he wanted you to stay a little more, too. Because he knew the moment he was alone in his car, his world would come crashing down on him. But how could he ask you to stay without giving you the wrong idea? Did you even want to stay? 
Maybe not, with the way you were pulling your dress back up to cover your chest. He watched with a lump in his throat as you looked around his floor to pick up your discarded underwear, not bothering to put it back on. You reached the front of his car again, picking up your purse and the leftover take-out, ass on full display again, making his cock twitch as he finally removed the condom and tied it up in a lazy knot, rushing to pull his pants back on. 
“Good luck with your book.” you were saying as you checked if you had every one of your belongings. “Let me know if you need any help, okay?” 
“Mhm.” 
“Goodnight, Professor Min.” 
Walking out of that car brought a pang to your heart and a coldness to your stomach that you couldn’t really explain, nor did you want to analyze it. Chucking it off to your post-orgasm neediness, you pulled your dress down to make sure it covered your ass, instantly feeling the cold of the night. 
Not only was it really late, but the inside of Yoongi’s car was a lot hotter than the outside, and the abrupt change in temperature made you shiver. 
The walk to your dorm building was a little shameful, but you didn’t see a single soul as you made it to your bedroom on the second floor. Unlocking the door, you left your belongings on the desk parallel to your bed, walking to the windows to close the blinds as you were ready to pass out from how tired you were. 
Yoongi’s car was still there, just as you left it. The only difference is that now the headlights were on. You wondered if he was waiting for something, or just cooling down with the air conditioning. 
Not thinking much of it, you looked for your phone and got back to the window, ignoring the texts from your drunks friends in order to type:
To Professor Min [02:11]: I didn’t get lost on the way up, you can go now. 
He didn’t reply to your text, but you knew he read it. Looking out the window again, you saw his headlights blinking twice. With a small giggle you clicked the light switch twice as a reply. 
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A/N: How do we like Professor Yoongi so far? 💜 Let me know.
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yughostlavia · 10 months
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72/100 days of productivity • 060923
take two by bts dropped and i'm SOBBING. at least today i can work from home and spend a bit of time working on my thesis wink wink.
to-do:
upload spreadsheets
go over reports
rewrite tufting theory for thesis
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zzzzzestforlife · 19 days
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🌸 that girl diaries // making the most of a week off ☺️
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i have a week off and i'm so excited!!! (to do nothing 🌝) i will indulge and at the same time have bursts of productivity, no doubt, like today. i considered doing a one-week challenge, but eh, i deserve this time to live in the moment a little and not plan everything in advance 😌 (goodness knows my extremely J-type tendencies will jump out and subconsciously create a plan anyway 🙈)
❤️ guided meditation but it's really more of background noise to focus on while i meditate
📝📝📝 Japanese lessons
📝📝📝 Chinese lessons + unit exam
🎧 BTS World stories because we all know i'm k-pop trash 🙊
🥰🥰 warm-up + cardio 🏃‍♀️💨 so happy to be finally pain-free enough for this~
🎧 Seventeen One Fine Day because ofc i'm soft for our baby sebongies 🥺
📚 read 2 chapters of Sophie's World
💌: oh! i also got my midterm grades back and i got an A+!! 😎 on a completely different note, this video on cardio routines was also super motivating (i love her channel in general) ok that's all for today, byeee!~
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jeon-s-sins · 1 year
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Middle Of The Night | Index
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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.
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Parts
Part I || Part II
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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.
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likeawildflower · 2 months
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Question: What was Namjoon like in high school?
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myork · 2 years
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gtkm | 7/50 days of ksj ☽
biases [2/2]: kim seokjin being my the nations husband material
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accio-victuuri · 10 months
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my favorite chaotic duo xzwyb 🫶🏼 // source
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