WHEN HE DISTRACT YOU WHILE U ARE STUDYING

---

Jimin emerged from the steamy bathroom, droplets cascading off his damp skin. A towel hung low on his hips, while another he used to tousle his wet, dark locks. The soft glow of the study lamp illuminated your figure across the room, drawing his gaze.

A faint smile curled at his lips as his eyes settled on you-your head buried in a daunting 6-inch-thick textbook. The creases on your brow, the way your fingers anxiously tapped against the pages, and the slight pout of concentration told a story of relentless determination.

Your final exams were in full swing, and tomorrow marked the end-chemistry was the last hurdle before you could bid farewell to college life. Yet, the subject felt like a mountain you couldn't climb. Equations that others solved with ease had always tangled your mind, their logic eluding you. The weight of expectation, of dreams tied to good grades, pressed heavily on your shoulders.

Frustrated, you flipped the pages of yet another thick tome, your fingers trembling as you compared formulas.

"Hell-" you muttered under your breath, your voice heavy with irritation. After hours of relentless effort and practicing the same chapter nearly twenty-five times, you still fell into the trap of a silly mistake. The sting of disappointment shot through you as you smacked your forehead with an audible slap.

The open pages of your notebook stared back at you, scarred with countless red corrections. "It has more red ink than blue," you whispered bitterly, your voice quivering. The rim of your eyes burned as tears threatened to spill over, but you refused to let them fall.

Not now. Not yet.

You wanted a future-a decent job, a life you could proudly call your own. But chemistry was the silent thief threatening to sabotage your dreams, and the thought of it pulling down your aggregate sent a fresh wave of panic through you.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you pushed your chair back slightly, clutching the edges of the desk as if grounding yourself to the moment. You choked back the sobs clawing at your chest, blinking away the tears that blurred the words on the page. This was not the time to crumble.

With a shaky breath, you steadied yourself and read another question aloud, your tone resolute this time. Determination laced your voice, though exhaustion weighed heavily on your every action. The hours stretched before you, a battlefield you were determined to conquer.

Jimin, unnoticed until now, stood at the door, his amused smile fading into something softer. He watched as you soldiered on, oblivious to his presence. In that moment, he saw not just the woman he adored, but the fighter within-the one who refused to give in, no matter how insurmountable the odds seemed.

Jimin observed your frustrated countenance for a considerable duration, a wry smile playing on his lips. As your esteemed chemistry professor, the esteemed Mr. Park Jimin, was acutely aware of your pronounced aversion to the subject, he was nevertheless certain that your diligent efforts would culminate in a satisfactory academic performance.

Despite his repeated attempts to allay your anxieties, you remained in a state of considerable agitation, your discourse punctuated by a cacophony of fretful exclamations. This heightened state of emotional distress frequently led to a precipitous decline in your problem-solving acumen, resulting in a series of erroneous calculations.

His gaze, imbued with a mischievous glint, roamed over your flushed visage, its hue today more vivid than ever before. The nervous habit of gnawing on your lower lip was particularly pronounced, and a wayward strand of hair, escaping the confines of your ponytail, framed your exquisitely oval face, lending you an air of undeniable allure.

An ingenious stratagem suddenly presented itself to him - a means of assuaging your anxieties while simultaneously facilitating a productive question-and-answer session to bolster your confidence.

A mischievous smirk gracing his lips, he strode towards your study table, his presence seemingly unnoticed by you, your attention entirely captivated by the menacing equations that threatened to overwhelm you.

Invading your personal space, he encircled you with his arms, eliciting a minor startle from you, though you quickly acquiesced to his embrace. "Not now, Jimin!" you exclaimed, your attention riveted to the pages before you as you frantically scrutinized your answers. "I am yet to revise fifteen chapters."

"How utterly rude, my dear," he lamented, adopting a posture of feigned indignation. "Now that your collegiate pursuits have concluded, I am merely Jimin, bereft of the endearing appellations of 'darling' and 'sweetheart'?"

You levelled him with a withering glare, your gaze swiftly returning to the perplexing equations. "Indeed," you retorted, your lips twisting into a sardonic curve. "Especially considering that your esteemed professorial self, despite possessing the examination papers, has inexplicably withheld this valuable information from his beloved girlfriend."

He had, in fact, dedicated considerable time and effort to your academic endeavours, providing personalized instruction for each chapter and meticulously reviewing your progress. He had even, with a combination of puppy-dog eyes and persuasive pout, assisted you in completing your assignments, subsequently assuming the onerous task of affixing his signature. However, he maintained an unwavering commitment to academic integrity and steadfastly refused to divulge the examination content.

Ignoring your acerbic commentary, he continued to playfully tousle your hair, occasionally punctuating his ministrations with fleeting kisses upon your nape. Exasperated by his playful advances, you shrugged off his embrace, bestowing upon him a withering frown, which he reciprocated with an irrepressible grin.

You were not, by nature, inclined towards deceit, but your antipathy towards chemistry far surpassed your affection for Jimin. The subject had instilled a profound sense of dread within you since your middle school years, and despite your diligent efforts, your academic performance in this domain remained consistently underwhelming.

Nevertheless, you adhered to a strict moral code and resolutely refused to succumb to the temptation of academic dishonesty, even though Jimin's tutelage had instilled in you a degree of confidence that you would be capable of passing the examination without resorting to such underhanded tactics.

He continued to ignore your acerbic commentary, his fingers playfully entwining within your hair, and occasionally punctuating his ministrations with fleeting kisses upon your nape. Exasperated by his playful advances, you shrugged off his embrace, bestowing upon him a withering frown, which he reciprocated with an irrepressible grin.

"For heaven's sake, Jimin," you exclaimed, slamming your pen against the desk with a resounding thud. "Permit me to concentrate. My academic success in this examination is paramount. Or perhaps you harbour a secret desire for me to fail, thus necessitating an additional year of your esteemed tutelage?"

"Certainly not, my dear," he replied, resuming his original position. "This is hardly an effective method of encouragement," you retorted, attempting to push him away, though his formidable physique rendered your efforts futile. "Assist me with this infernal revision!"

"Very well," he conceded, his breath fanning your ear. He then proceeded to sweep you into his arms, your feeble protests proving ineffectual. In a matter of moments, your form was ensconced upon the mattress, while he hovered above you.

"This will be your final chemistry examination, my dearest," he murmured, his voice a low, seductive growl. "Do you not yearn for a memorable farewell?". You opened your mouth to protest, but he swiftly silenced your objections with a searing kiss. It was not a gentle, tender embrace, nor was it intended to be. He claimed your mouth with a fierce intensity, his tongue exploring every crevice with a predatory grace.

Your hands instinctively sought solace against his torso, your fingers tracing the contours of his taut, muscular abdomen. He acknowledged your touch with a triumphant smile, his kiss deepening. This, he realized, was precisely the manner in which he intended to render this revision session truly unforgettable.

He reluctantly severed the kiss, leaving you momentarily breathless and chilled. You yearned to reciprocate the intimacy he had initiated, to explore the depths of his passion as you had done countless times before. However, your body, now ruled by primal urges, seemed to have betrayed your better judgment.

You encircled his neck with your arms, your fingers entwined within his hair, and you re-established contact with his lips, this time with a fierce determination. "I can never satiate this insatiable desire," you whispered, your voice husky with longing.

He responded with a playful spank upon your undergarments derriere. He once again broke the kiss, this time to descend upon your body, his lips tracing a trail of fire across your skin, exercising meticulous care to avoid leaving any telltale marks.

You arched your back, a low moan escaping your lips. The stress that had been plaguing you moments ago had vanished without a trace, replaced by an intoxicating sense of euphoria.

Your body, weary from the emotional turmoil of the past few hours, surrendered completely to his ministrations. He reveled in your surrender, savoring the sounds of pleasure that escaped your lips as he explored every inch of your skin.

Trailing a long, sinuous path of kisses from your neck to the most intimate recesses of your being, he successfully transformed you into a creature of pure, unadulterated desire. He discarded your lacy undergarment with a practiced ease and bestowed a lingering kiss upon the most sensitive part of your anatomy. A throaty moan echoed through the room. "Oh, God, yes... Continue..."

He fanned your arousal with his breath, his voice a low, seductive purr. "If you wish to experience further delights, you must first answer my question. Understood?" He emphasized the final word with a distinct inflection.

He fanned your arousal with his breath, his voice a low, seductive purr. "If you wish to experience further delights, you must first answer my question. Understood?" He emphasized the final word with a distinct inflection.

You frowned, your attention momentarily diverted from the burgeoning storm within you, but you quickly acquiesced, your mind clouded by a haze of desire. "My dear," he began, his voice assuming the authoritative tone of a seasoned professor, "please define Lucas's reagent."

"Ha...ve me, Jimin," you pleaded, your hands instinctively reaching towards your most intimate region, eager to continue the exploration he had so skillfully initiated.

He swiftly intercepted your movements, his hand firmly restraining yours. "Behave, and answer the question... or you will be denied the pleasure your body so fervently craves," he warned, his voice retaining its authoritative pitch.

He gently brushed his fingertip against your most sensitive point, sending a jolt of pure ecstasy through your entire being. Without further hesitation, the answer tumbled from your lips, "Anhydrous zinc chloride in concentrated hydrochloric acid."

A triumphant smirk played upon his lips, and he rewarded your compliance by resuming his exploration of your most intimate regions.

★--★

You had no recollection of when sleep had claimed you, but as your groggy mind stirred, you instinctively searched for your clothes-only to find them mysteriously absent. Blinking several times to adjust to the soft morning light filtering through the curtains, your heart leapt into your throat.

"Books. Chemistry. Revision," you muttered, your thoughts scrambling. Whipping your head toward the clock on the bedside table, you exhale in relief. "Two hours until the exam. Thank God. I thought I'd overslept."

"Good morning, love," came Jimin's raspy, sleep-laden voice from beside you.

Your gaze snapped toward him, his disheveled hair and half-lidded eyes doing little to quell your rising irritation. "Oh, sod off!" you spat, grabbing a pillow and launching it at him with all the energy you could muster.

He caught it with ease, a devilish grin spreading across his lips. "Now, now, that's not the tone you were using last night. If I remember correctly, it was more along the lines of..." He deepened his voice mockingly, "'Ahh, Jimin... please... don't stop...'"

Your cheeks flushed crimson as you grabbed another pillow, this time determined to silence his teasing. He dodged, laughing wickedly. "You absolute bastard!" you barked. "You'd love for me to fail this bloody exam, wouldn't you? Just so you can keep me tethered to your side for another year!"

His grin softened into something more tender as he shifted closer. "Fail? You?" He cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly over your flushed skin. "Darling, I was merely testing your knowledge, and trust me, you passed with flying colours." His wink was playful, yet his gaze held an undeniable warmth.

Before you could muster another retort, he pressed a gentle kiss to your temple. The lingering scent of his cologne and the warmth of his lips melted the sharp edges of your frustration.

"Don't worry," he murmured, his voice a soothing balm to your frazzled nerves. "You're going to ace it, love. I'd bet my life on it."

His lips found yours in a slow, reassuring kiss, his unwavering confidence in you somehow grounding your scattered thoughts.

"Thanks," you whispered against his mouth, your irritation fading as determination took its place.

This was it. Time to conquer the day.