JIMIN ONESHOTS VER. 2 (Ongoing)

Phone sex ver. 2

\

Second version of Phone sex. (Not the same storyline)

"So, does anyone here in the class wants to volunteer?" Mrs. Chan speaks, twirling around after she writes an impeccably long calculus equation on the whiteboard. The professor smiles widely, waiting for someone to raise their hand.

"Ma'am," a boy sat in the middle raises his hand.

You could've sworn someone behind you mutter 'what the fuck'. No one can ever answer that! Especially not him—

Mrs. Chan's eyes glint in excitement, "Ah, wonderful! Would you please come he—"

"Mrs. Chan I believe that no one wants to fucking answer that equation because it's nearly impossible." The boy cuts her off with a sharp tone, his eyebrows creased together in frustration.

Quiet murmurs and chuckles can be heard here and there, some covering their mouths to prevent from laughing out loud.

"Goodness me—" Mrs. Chan places a hand above her chest, totally not expecting the sudden outburst.

"I don't even know why I'm in this fucking shithole you call school. I should be out there smoking some pot instead of wasting my time learning about shit that I will never use. God, you don't even teach properly. You teach like you're running a marathon, no wonder why there's literally only ten of us attending your class today." The boy stands up, eagerly grabbing his things as he hastily swings his backpack on his shoulder. "So would I please be fucking excused, professor, 'cause my bong has been feeling lonely these past few days, thanks."

You couldn't believe that this was happening. Right in front of your own very eyes. You knew that Mrs. Chan was not everyone's favorite professor but you didn't expect that somebody would go this far. You cover your mouth with a single hand, heartbeat racing.

Mrs. Chan doesn't speak but only looks at the boy that was busy making his way out the lecture room. Your heart breaks when you see the sadness and hurt that painted Mrs. Chan's eyes. The atmosphere was so uncomfortable and heavy that it made everyone stand up and leave the room as well. But not you.

Sighing deeply, you make your way up front and approach your professor. She scoffs, "What? Are you going to add more to what that kid had to say about me?"

Your eyes widen, placing both of your hands in front of you to reassure her, "No, no! Please, don't get me wrong." Mrs. Chan raises a brow up, waiting. "I know not everyone's perfect, but he had absolutely no right to talk about you like that. It was so rude of him. Don't let his words get to you." You smile as you tried to comfort your professor.

Mrs. Chan returns the smile, tilting her head to the side, "Thank you, really. I'll deal with that kid later with the dean." She stops for a moment to take a good look at you, raking your body up and down with piercing eyes. "You know, I think this is the first time I've talked to you, right? You're...?"

"Oh! Um, I'm Y/n." you grin, crossing your hands behind you.

"Y/n," she drags your name out long, "I don't really notice you in c-class...oh, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have—"

"Oh, no. It's okay." You glance down and chuckle meekly, "I'm not really that, uh, active."

"Well, thank you once again, Y/n, for the reassurance. Sadly, I need to go ahead since..." her eyes scan around the room while her mouth drops into a frown, "Since the class is nonexistent anymore."

You nod your head, smiling. "I understand, Mrs. Chan."

You quickly made your way to the entrance and opened the door for her. She gives you an appreciative smile and exits the room, holding a bunch of textbooks in her hands. It wasn't until you notice that a card comes flying down and landing on the wooden floor.