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Oh, Darling! | MYG | One

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. 

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. 

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. 

A/N: How do we like Professor Yoongi so far? 💜 Let me know.

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Honestly , kind of cute and fluffy in the beginning.

Prodigy - Teacher AU

“Could you just close the door and come over here? You have no reason to rush out, I didn’t post your grade. I want to discuss it in person.”

You swallowed hard at his words but did as you were told, closing the classroom door and going over to his desk. He was looking through the stack of students’ sketchbooks on his desk, presumably for your own. He pulled one of of the stack and laid it in the middle of his desk, and you froze. 

You could feel all color draining from your face once you noticed which sketchbook he had pulled out of the pile. There was a Hello Kitty sticker stuck to the top right corner of it, indicating it was your sketchbook.

Your personal sketchbook.

word count: 10.1k

genre: fluff & smut (a lot of soft/domestic stuff, concludes w smut)

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Detention - Teacher AU

“Answer me kitten, be respectful towards your teachers.”

word count: 5.6k

genre: smut (dom/sub, spanking, daddy kink)

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You Never Walk Alone | Chapter 17

Genre: Werewolf!AU, Poly!AU?, Mate!AU, romance, fluff

Pairing: OT7 x Reader

Characters: Student!reader, Omega!Seokjin, Alpha!Yoongi, Beta!Hoseok, Alpha!Namjoon, Omega!Jimin, Beta!Taehyung, Alpha!Jungkook

Summary: You live a quiet life in your late grandfather’s cabin in the woods. You go to school just to graduate and get your diploma, not to make friends or stand out from the crowd. That was until one day, you enter your home to see a pack of wolves that need shelter.

It’s time to find out the truth. The truth about everything that has been hidden from you. And maybe, the best people to tell you that are the very people who knew your grandfather before you did. 

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GUYS IM BACK AFTER A LONG, 2 YEAR HIATUS

And i am doing requests so pls pls pls send me some cus im in the mood to write baes 😋

Am currently taking requests for mainly mha/bnha because i am stuck in an obsession with it atm

I will write for aizawa (i mainly like to write platonic fluff with like a sad student reader or something though) but ill write smut too (just not with a student 💀

I will also write for shinso, denki, katsuki, izuku, todoroki and iida

I also prefer angst with a happy ending, i wont do x dead reader because i just dont have the heart 😧

But plsplspls gimme some random requests to do and ill have fun with them <3

I can also write for yu yu hakusho and bleach! Dont hold out on requests please, i want to be absolutely flooded with them! 😍

You want more Dadzawa you said right? Aizawas sees students accidentally or purposely mislabeling NB! Reader as a female cuz reader is AFAB and he notices reader looks sad whenever someone says "she's so pretty", "she's adorable", "she's too perfect!" But reader has told aizawa they're preferred pronouns. -Shuu

ofc!

Masterlist&lt;3

Aizawa x Enby!Student!Reader (Platonic) - Misgendered

"You're so pretty! Isn't she so pretty?!"

You can't help but feel a little dejected at the complement, Mina's loud, energetic and enthusiastic voice filling the room, accidentally misgendering you in the process. Aizawa looks up from his papers at his desk, giving you an unreadable look.

A forced smile presses at your lips while you fight the dysphoria, rationalising it in your head by telling yourself that you haven't gotten around to telling everyone yet. Yet, part of you is a little disappointed that you don't look as enby as you feel.

Your teacher notices this easily, bothered by the saddened flash in your eyes that noone picks up on, and he feels bothered that one of his students is facing such a problem on their own. Aizawa is the only person that knows out of the entire class full of people, because you had opened up about why you'd been distracted and unhappy for the few days before. From then, he made it his mission to bring the class closer together and encourage teamwork to show you that you have friends who won't see you as anything different.

"Aw.. t-thank you, Mina... I guess we could be two pretty best friends, huh?~"

Mina's cheeks go pink... Well, more pink than they were already. She's blushing and it's absolutely adorable. Flirting and complementing others is your love language after all, and you definately think she's one of the prettiest people you've ever met. She has the heart of an angel too, it's just a shame that you don't know how to come out to her and tell her that you're non-binary. It really sucks.

Aizawa looks at you dryly as you shamelessly flirt with everyone in the class, his eye twitching as he deadpanns, an expression on his face that seems to say something along the lines of "kids these days..."

He huffs and continues with his teaching, separating your little group as the break ends and carrying on with the lesson, planning on pulling you aside after class to talk about what happened.

Though to his surprise, you had come to him of your own accord after everyone had filed out of the room and he doesn't even have time to speak before you're interrupting him.

"I want to come out... I- Can i make an announcement during our next period?"

"... It's rude to interrupt your teacher, problem child. Yes, you can make an announcement. Is this about Mina's comment earlier?..."

You pout as he gives you the same monotone voice and stares straight into your soul, nodding your head and feeling yourself deflate a little as he still reprimands you for interrupting him and flirting during class.

"Jeez, i get no special treatment, huh? Not even for your favourite resident creature? Damn."

Your sensei can't stop himself from chuckling at your antics as you hang your head down in an act of disappointment, shooing you away and telling you to go and hang out with your friends.

By the time next period rolls around, it finally dawns on you just how scared you are to actually come out for real, and you almost entertain the thought of backing out until you make up your mind at the sight of Izuku and Kirishima being absolute cinnamon rolls. There's no way such kind hearted, genuine heros could have any kind of prejudice in their heart. What were you even thinking?

That's it. You're gonna tough up and face it. So when you stand up in front of the class as they all file in, you ignore their curious and confused looks and spill your secret.

"Uh- guys? Sorry, I just wanted to say something- uhm... Im enby, a-and my pronouns are they/them. I've felt this way for a while now... and i'm sorry it took a while for me to say anything..."

With that, you stay quiet, anxiously waiting for any kind of reaction until you hear Kirishima and Denki interrupting eachother with words of encouragement, though you don't really understand because they're speaking at the same time and you're getting confused. A small smile plays at your lips as Mina nearly knocks over her desk to embrace you, squealing as you almost fall down, excited and encouraging chatter erupting in the room while Aizawa looks on with the tiniest smile.

None of you know just how proud he is of this class. And he decides that you never will because brats don't get that kind of positive reinforcement from him. He's oviously going to keep working you all to the bone and making sure you all suffer for being problem children. But for now, he can be proud, and watch on with hidden relief while you get flooded with reassurance.

Hi hi :)) can I request Erasermic x reader (platonic) hurt/comfort when the readers’ bio parents die? A little lore for this ask but you don’t have to include this- basically readers mom was a vigilante and villains wanted to get revenge on her, so reader was taken in by UA to keep her safe and she ended up joining class 1-A. Fem! Reader pls Thank you so much <33

Hi hi! <3

Of course I can! I poured every bit of talent I could scrape outta my system for this one lol cus I wanted it to be good omnskdn

Lemme know if you want a part 2! I have loads of ideas for this!

Y'all listen to Scott pilgrims fairy fountain theme slowed down for this please I promise you it just hits different in so many ways ah-

Also have I been calling present mic "president" mic before this fic? 💀💀

Masterlist <3

𝐄𝐫𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐌𝐢𝐜 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐜) - 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐈'𝐯𝐞 𝐃𝐨𝐧𝐞

Bright eyes wander over the ground below from a distance, stare unwavering and expression cold. The floor dances with the fall of each raindrop, concrete becoming an expanse of colour as the light from nearby streetlamps reflect off the water.

The world looks so untouched from here, stories above ground at the height of UA's rooftop. Noone's around in this kind of flooding rainfall, and kids and parents alike take cover from the raging storm from above. It's a magical sight.

The only drop of colour radiates from the dancing reflections of the floor, like a TV gone static. The sky is clouded and there's no sight of sunlight, casting a gloomy blanket over the skyscrapers that try so desperately to touch it.

It's at this point where you lose a sense of yourself, drenched in rain down to the bone, hair flattened and clinging to your forehead. It feels so good to feel so raw like this, each raindrop stinging your skin as it hits you, grounding you in a way that nothing else ever could. Grief weighs on your chest like an asthma attack, restricting your breath through the lump in your throat. You're can't even distinguis between the rain and the tears that you assume are still falling.

It wasn't raining when you had first sat down here, and although the sky was clouding and the atmosphere was heavy from an oncoming storm, you didn't really mind either way. You would guess it's the perk of having a water reliant quirk. Sitting in the rain brings you relief that eases something deep inside, and you find yourself drawn to it like a month to flame.

You needed something to use as a crutch, and the rain was a good enough substitute for you. It would make a good enough substitute for the embrace you'll never get from your parents again. The thought has another strained sob wrenching itself from your chest. The corners of your mouth pull into a half-frown, like you're trying to avoid fully breaking down. Or like you're afraid of what might happen if you did. Your front teeth worry at your bitten up bottom lip, trying to keep any other involuntary cries stuck in your throat so they can die there.

You'd gone past the apathy of denial a few days ago, but at this point, you can deny no longer the fact that they're gone.

Now, you have nothing.

Your thoughts are interrupted by the sound of the hinges of the rooftop door creaking loudly, no doubt rusting from the heavy rain over the years. You don't even turn your head.

"__...?"

Aizawa sees no movement from you. It's not like he was expecting you to be bouncing off the walls, anyway.

"Come on, it's time to go."

His tone is grave, heavy with the weight of your parents on his mind. President mic stands a few feet behind him, eyes filled with remorse at the sight of you like this. You're almost catatonic, stricken with heartbreak. Noone's ever seen you so lifeless before. Not even the most intense depressive episodes have left you like this.

Aizawa leaves the shelter of the doorway without an ounce of hesitation, the black of his clothes saturating with the onslaught of heavy rain, which soaks into the shoulders at first, and then hits him from the from with a change in the wind.

From the corner of your vision, you see a hand reaching out to you, willing to pull you from the depths of despair and into a state of recovery. Your chewed up bottom lip wobbles for a second as you take the hand blindly, and suddenly you're enveloped in your sensei's warm embrace. It's so sudden, and it's just the comfort you needed to let go of your inhibitions, warm tears bonding with the streaks of cold rain that travel down the planes of your face.

"I didn't- I didn't think it would end like this! Is it all my fault?! 'Cause whatever I've done- I- I promise-... It wasn't supposed to end like this!"

Aizawa is no stranger to comforting those going through the loss of a loved one, though he never thought he would have to deliver such a harsh truth to his own student. It reopens a few old wounds, but it's not something he's worried about right now when you're in this state.

"I promise, there was nothing you could've done. You were put here to avoid you possibly suffering the same fate as your parents. They wanted you safe."

As much as you wish it wasn't true, you know it is. There's nothing you can do now. Was everything supposed to feel so hopeless and empty when you're training to be one of the strongest heroes there is? Shouldn't it be the opposite?

You can't stop yourself from crying into Aizawa's chest while he guides you back inside, careful not to have you slipping over. Neither teacher say anything as you descend the school stairwell after hours, and you're left with a comforting silence that's much less desolate than before.

Oh, Darling! | MYG | Series Masterlist

[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.

One

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Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven - Finale

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You really don’t catch hints, aye?

Librarian! and former student! Namjoon x student!reader 

Warnings: None

Genre: Idk, nothing?

Summary: Namjoon is just a librarian, but when he sees you struggling with studying he offers to help. However, it seems as if he really can’t catch your hints of flirting with him.

A/N: Joonie really looks like he can’t catch on with things like this

Word count: 844

“What the heck is this and when the fuck was I taught this?”

I yelled, momentarily forgetting I was in a library.

“Fuck” I whispered expecting to be kicked out.

A young man, probably one of the librarians here, approached me and I got ready to pack my things and find another place to go when I want to study, but he just sat opposite of me.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll collect my things and I’m not allowed to come back here.” I mumbled and opened my bag to put my books in.

He grabbed my hand, gently, stopping my actions.

“No, I’m here to help. But seriously, you need to be quiet.” He said with a small smile. 

He has such a calming voice.

“Help? I’m doing homework, for uni, are you sure you can help?” and he seemed offended at my comment.

“I finished this uni 2 years ago! I know this stuff!” He whined and pulled my book towards him.

“How do you know which uni I’m in?” I asked a little creeped out.

“I told you, I finished this uni two years ago, you were a student back then and I had seen you around the campus and here.” He shyly admitted and I felt bad, because I never noticed him, but also because how the fuck didn’t I notice a dude this handsome?

“Oh, right. So, you think you can help me with this? Mr Lee is teaching us this.” I said hopefully.

“Of course, it used to be my favorite class, but I gotta admit, Mr Lee is terrible at teaching it, and makes it seem boring.” He said and turned to book towards me again.

“Look at this,” He pointed at something he had underlined. “This is really helpful, and you can use it in every question he gives you. He actually loves this so much, he will lower your grade if you don’t use it, because ‘it’s easy and only dumb people avoid it!’ So go on.” He slid some white papers for me to do calculations there.

I started solving the homework I was given, surprised at how fast I solved them.

“No, no, no, read this carefully.” The man, who I realized I didn’t even know his name, pointed at the last and hardest of the exercises.

“It clearly says the same thing as every other question!” I whined.

“No, it clearly says the opposite!” He pointed out.

I stuck my tongue out, not wanting to admit I was wrong. He sighed and shook his head, a small smile forming on his lips.

“There, done!” I exclaimed, checking phone, only to see it took me an hour. I was pleasantly surprised.

“See? It only took you an hour for that many questions and exercises!” He looked so proud of me.

“Thank you so much, um…” I trailed off expecting him to tell me his name but he didn’t really catch on.

“What?” He asked confused.

“Um, your name?” I shyly asked. And he looked so embarrassed.

“Ah, Namjoon, but most people call me just Joon, as a nickname.” He said.

“Imma be unique and call you Joonie.” I said with a giggle, collecting my things.

“That’s not unique, but I’m cool with it.” He once again talked back and got up slowly.

“Well, Joonie, you really seem like a know-it-all.” I sassily said and zipped my bag and placed it on my shoulder.

“Oh, do I?” He teased. “Yes.” I giggled wanting to drop this subject.

“Seriously though, Joonie, thank you so much for your help. I don’t know how to pay you back.” I said giving him a hint to lead the conversation on.

Please ask me out, please ask me out!

“You don’t have to pay me back, I felt like doing it and I did it.” He said and I frowned disappointed.

This boy is either oblivious, or he just doesn’t like me.

“You really don’t catch hints, aye?” I teased and shook my head.

“What?” He looked genuinely confused and I wanted to hit my head on a wall.

If he can’t ask me out, I will.

“I’ll treat you coffee, when are you free from work?” I bluntly asked and pulled out my phone for his phone number.

“Oh, you really don’t have to, but I have Thursdays and weekends free.” He replied, cheeks blushing, and he looked like a woman that doesn’t know how to put make up on. (Every teacher at school)

He typed his number in and handed me my phone back.

“I’ll call you, because if I let you do it, you’ll probably never do it.” I teased and he blushed harder.

We walked towards the door both silent, his coworker having a teasing smile on his face.

“Bye Joonie, call me.” I blew a kiss, really not wanting to make him look dumb to his coworker.

“Of course.” He said with a teasing smile.

I left the library, heading home, texting Joonie a “you finally caught on” with a wink emoji.

Ahh, he’s gonna be the death of me.

~~~~~~~

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