#teacher jungkook | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

junghelioseok · 8 months

Text

miss taken.

↳ you pride yourself on being a professional, but sometimes your students' parents really test your patience.

◇ jungkook x reader ◇ fluff | smut | teacher!au | single parent!au | e2l ◇ 20.3k [1/1]

❛❛ our kids are bitter rivals and the only time we ever meet is when we’re both called to the principal’s office and whatever maybe i think you’re kind of cute but your kid’s a monster and ALSO someone keeps buying the last everything bagel at my favorite coffee shop 2 minutes before i get there in the morning and has heard about my plight and has started leaving me bragging notes about it ❜❜

notes: fic number two in the serendipity series is here at last!!! this took me like a million and a half years to finish because Real Life happened but here we finally are! also, i changed the type of bagel that the story is centered around, because i honestly didn’t come to like everything bagels until relatively recently and i will still only eat it if it’s part of a bagel sandwich because? just having cream cheese or whatever on an everything bagel feels kind of unhinged to me! but that’s neither here nor there and no one is here for my bagel opinions so! hope you enjoy the story!!! 💕

⇢ series masterlist. | inspired by this post.

warnings: dilf!jk, some kissing and hand stuff, ✨sexual tension✨ but nothing too terribly explicit tbh

Silence has never sounded louder.

You drum your fingers against the armrest of your chair, nails clacking against the cheap plastic. On the wall, the second hand of the clock completes yet another revolution, and you glance over when your companion sighs, plucks off her reading glasses, and sets them down on the desk beside the placard that houses her title: Principal Pamela Baker, Hybe Academy.

A woman nearing her fifties, Pam has sandy blonde hair cut into a neat bob and an enviable ability to pull off any lipstick color, no matter how bold. You’re lucky enough to call her both a friend and a mentor, and when she mutters a curse under her breath, you chuckle. “Late again,” she huffs, offering you a wry smile before leaning back in her seat and casting her gaze skyward. “Typical.”

“You know what these corporate types are like, Pam,” you reply, rolling your eyes. “They have zero regard for anyone else’s time. He was twenty minutes late to our parent-teacher conference last semester, so don’t take it personally.”

“Believe me, I know plenty of men like Jungkook Jeon,” Pam says with another sigh, this one heavier and longer than the last. “I even married one, you know. But that was before I came to my senses and divorced his ass. Best decision of my life, right after getting my tubes tied.”

“Three kids was enough for you?” you tease, and Pam snorts out a laugh.

“More than enough,” she replies. “What about you, though? Thinking of having another kid anytime soon?”

“I don’t think so… well, not anytime soon, at least. Ask me again in—”

The sound of a doorknob turning stops you in your tracks, and a moment later, the door to the office swings open with a dull click.

“Principal Baker. Miss {L/N}.” Jungkook Jeon is standing at the threshold in a wool coat the color of charcoal, the buttons of which are undone to reveal the undoubtedly designer suit underneath. His dark hair is parted neatly across his forehead, still sprinkled with lingering snowflakes from his journey here, and you bite back the urge to remark on his tardiness. Instead, you stand when your boss stands up, mustering up every ounce of professionalism you possibly can.

“Mr. Jeon,” Pam says, giving his hand a firm shake before gesturing to the empty chair beside you. “It’s nice to see you again. Please, take a seat.”

You incline your head in Jungkook’s direction as he lowers himself into the plastic chair, the legs scraping against the tiled floor in protest as he adjusts his position. “Hello, Mr. Jeon. Thank you for finally joining us.”

If Jungkook notices the snarky inflection of your tone, he doesn’t let it show. He merely levels you with a cool gaze, blinking lazily before turning to your boss. “Excuse my tardiness,” he says, smoothing down the lapels of his black jacket and straightening his slate blue tie. “I got here as fast as I could. Where is my daughter?”

Pam gestures toward the door. “Daeun is down the hall in the library, under Mr. Kim’s supervision. I thought it best if we spoke without the children first.”

The dark-haired man hums. “What happened, Principal? You were rather vague on the phone.”

Pam nods, and you exchange looks before she turns her attention back to Jungkook. “Yes, well, as I explained on the phone, there was an incident. Daeun forcefully took her classmate’s book during the free reading period, and refused to return it when asked.”

At that, Jungkook casts you another glance. “I see. And I presume the classmate was Miss {L/N}’s daughter?”

“It was,” you confirm, taking care to keep your tone even despite the irritation simmering in your belly. “This is the second time Trixie’s been targeted by your daughter, Mr. Jeon. Do you think that’s a coincidence?”

Jungkook’s eyes narrow, his lips twisting into a displeased frown. “I'm not sure I like what you’re implying, Miss {L/N}.”

The iciness in his voice is unmistakable, but you have fifteen minutes’ worth of annoyance festering in your belly—annoyance that has amplified with every second that he made you wait. That, combined with his behavior last semester is enough to stir that annoyance into full-blown anger. He’s been short with you every time you’ve called to talk about his daughter’s progress in class, and you very nearly canceled his eight o’clock appointment to meet with you during December’s parent-teacher conferences. You remember pulling up his contact information nineteen minutes after eight, thumb hovering over the call button on your phone when he finally burst into your classroom. No preamble, and no apology. He just sat down, as if nothing was amiss, and began asking about Daeun’s grades in math.

It’s no wonder you’ve never heard so much as a word about a Mrs. Jeon. The nosy part of your brain wonders about Jungkook’s home life on occasion, and the more vindictive part relishes in the fact that he’s no doubt a single parent. Any woman would have to be a saint to put up with Jungkook Jeon, you reason, because as far as you’re concerned, he’s the devil.

The devil dressed in head-to-toe Armani, who is currently fixing you with a look that could temper steel.

“Mr. Jeon.” Pam, as always, is quick to diffuse the sudden tension that’s settled over her office. “No one is implying anything here. We just want to have a frank, civil discussion about Daeun’s behavior, and see if you can think of anything that may be causing her to act out. A recent change in her life, perhaps? Something new that she hasn’t quite adjusted to yet?”

You take a deep breath, releasing it through your nose before putting your professional mask back on. “Her shift in behavior was extremely sudden,” you chime in, watching out of the corner of your eye as Pam inclines her head in agreement. “Laughing when Trixie and another classmate slipped and fell on the ice, and now this? I don’t believe for a minute that this change came out of nowhere—something must have caused it. Daeun is a smart girl, Mr. Jeon. She’s outgoing and a little rambunctious, but she’s always been kind to her classmates in the past. Today’s behavior was incredibly out of character for her.”

A beat of silence passes, as your words fade into silence. Then Jungkook shifts in his seat, crossing one leg over the other as he turns his full attention to you. “We keep talking about Daeun as if she was the only child involved in this incident, Miss {L/N}. Why don’t we talk about your daughter instead? Trixie, is it?”

And just like that, your mask begins to splinter at the edges. “Trixie was reading quietly at the table when Daeun approached her,” you reply coolly. “She didn’t instigate anything, Mr. Jeon.”

“Oh, and I’m supposed to take your word for it?” Jungkook huffs out a humorless chuckle, leaning back in his seat. “I think you, of all people, might be a little bit biased.”

Fury flares in your belly, hot and bright. “I am a professional, Mr. Jeon,” you manage between clenched teeth. “I care about all of my students equally, and treat them as such. But I don’t expect you to understand that.”

Jungkook opens his mouth to retort, but your boss stops him before he can utter a single syllable. “I think that’s enough for today,” Pam says, rising to her feet and stepping around her desk to shake Jungkook’s hand. Even in heels, she only comes up to his chest, and you would have laughed at the height disparity if it weren’t for the rage still bubbling through your veins. “Like I said before, the girls are just down the hall with Mr. Kim. If you’ll follow me…”

Pam ushers Jungkook out of the office, chattering mindlessly about the cafeteria renovations that are underway—funded in large part by Jungkook himself, you’re certain. As much as you’ve grown to dislike the man, you know that he cares deeply about education and donates a rather large sum to your school every year. Trailing after them by a few paces, you listen as Pam points out a row of plaques hanging on the wall, honoring distinguished students and teachers alike.

The library, when you reach it, is empty save for three figures seated at one of several rectangular tables that occupy the middle of the room. Taehyung Kim, the copper-haired librarian, springs out of his seat upon your arrival, and you wave tiredly as he approaches with a warm, affable grin.

“Welcome!” Taehyung says, adjusting his gold-rimmed glasses before extending a hand for Jungkook to shake. “You must be Daeun’s dad. I’m Taehyung Kim, the librarian here at Hybe.”

“Jungkook Jeon.” Then Jungkook’s gaze flits past him to where the two children are seated opposite one another. Daeun is a slender, petite girl with dark hair braided neatly down her back and round, brown eyes that are narrowed in concentration as she colors in a picture of a lion. Quietly, Jungkook strides over to his daughter, kneeling down beside her chair until he’s eye-level. “Hey, Daeun,” you hear him murmur. “What happened today, hmm?”

You, meanwhile, join your own daughter at the table, sitting down in the chair Taehyung abandoned and taking in the paper and coloring utensils scattered across the surface “Hey, jitterbug,” you murmur. “Were you nice to Mr. Kim while I was gone?”

“Tae read us a book about butterflies,” Trixie replies, shrugging her little shoulders. “He taught us about migration.”

You chuckle. “Migration, huh? That sounds interesting. You want to tell me all about it on the drive home?”

Trixie nods, her pigtails bobbing in time with the movement. Then she glances over to where Jungkook is instructing Daeun to pack up her backpack, tucking books and notebooks neatly inside while Daeun collects her crayons and puts them into a sparkly little pink case. “Are we going home now?”

“Soon, bug,” you promise. “I just have to finish up with Mr. Jeon and Principal Baker, okay?”

“Okay,” Trixie says agreeably, returning to her drawing. Pam gestures for you to join her and Jungkook near the library doors, and you meet Taehyung’s gaze as you brush past where he’s pulling a few books down for a display. Good luck, he mouths, and you suppress the urge to make a face. Instead, you mouth a quick thanks back, offering Daeun a quick smile as well before joining her father and your boss at the door.

“Mr. Jeon,” Pam says, casting a surreptitious glance toward Daeun and Trixie before lowering her voice. “I don’t think you should ignore this behavior from your daughter. If there’s something in her home life that is making her act out, I can recommend a few counselors who would be more than happy to speak with the two of y—”

Jungkook shakes his head, a lock of dark hair coming loose from whatever gel he’s used to style it. “With all due respect, Principal Baker, I don’t appreciate my parenting abilities being called into question. I think it’s probably best if Daeun and I take our leave.”

Pam sighs. “Mr. Jeon, I don’t mean to offend. But Daeun did take a book out of Trixie’s hands.”

“And I’ll be sure to discipline her for that,” Jungkook replies. “But if this is all over a book, Principal, I think the solution is simple. I can easily buy her whatever book she needs.”

“I’m not so sure it’s about the book itself,” you point out. “Tae—I mean, Mr. Kim—has multiple copies of Charlotte’s Web available for the students.”

Jungkook hums and turns up the collar of his wool coat, pulling it snug around his throat. “Nonetheless, I think we’re done here. Daeun, we’re leaving.”

The six-year-old looks up from the book Taehyung has checked out for her and immediately runs over to grab her father’s extended hand. “Are we going home?” she asks quietly, and he nods.

“Yeah, we are, sweetheart. Come on. Say bye to your teachers.”

Obediently, Daeun waves to you and Taehyung before bidding Pam goodbye as well. Jungkook offers you a stiff nod, and Pam resignedly offers to walk the duo out. They depart together, and you watch as they disappear around the corner of the hall before turning to Taehyung with a heavy sigh. Trixie is still engrossed in her coloring, and you lower your voice as you join Taehyung where he’s begun re-shelving books from a cart of returns.

“Thank god that’s finally over,” you murmur.

Taehyung glances both ways, ensuring the coast is clear. “Yeah. That Jungkook guy is a total wang.”

///

By the time you pull out of Hybe Academy’s parking lot, rush hour has well and truly begun. Silently, you curse Jungkook’s tardiness as you merge onto the main road and almost immediately come to a complete standstill amongst the traffic. Glancing back in the rearview mirror, you take in the sight of your daughter, buckled neatly into the backseat with her face pressed against the window.

“What color are we looking for today, bug?”

“Red,” she replies, her nose scrunching against the glass. Every day, your daughter picks a color and counts the number of cars she sees in that particular shade. She’s taken to keeping a running tally on the refrigerator—working toward the answer to a research question that only she understands. Her work is accompanied by a variety of figures and diagrams as well, which she’s plastered across the remainder of the refrigerator door and are slowly encroaching on the freezer door as well. You’re pretty sure she’ll need a larger surface soon enough—the wall of the hallway leading to the bedrooms would probably suffice—but until then, you have no plans to interfere with her creativity. If anything, you sometimes wish you could see the world through a child’s eyes again—to view every new experience as an adventure, and delight in the simple things. It’s one of the many reasons you love working at Hybe, even if you do have to deal with the occasional entitled parent.

Unwillingly, your mind wanders back to Jungkook Jeon. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t find him attractive, even if you’re reluctant to admit it and refuse outright to say it aloud. He’s blessed with the kind of face that angels could rhapsodize about—his dark, expressive eyes set above a strong nose and an enticing mouth. His jawline is sharp as a knife, and you’re fairly certain the devil himself sculpted his thighs. Even beneath the drape of his expensive suits, you can see the definition of his musculature as clearly as if he wasn’t wearing anything at all. You wonder—more often than you’d like to admit—how his workplace hasn’t deemed his suits obscene. Maybe he needs a dress code, you think to yourself, easing off the brake as the cars in front of you begin to inch forward. Baggy clothes only from this point forward. The more skin covered, the better.

“Oooh! Found one!” Trixie exclaims, tapping the glass vigorously. “And look, there’s another. It’s a darker red, though.”

You hum and nod toward the traffic up ahead, where you can glimpse the corner of a cherry red bumper. “What about that one up there? That makes three, right?”

In the mirror, you see your daughter nod. A few minutes pass, the two of you calling out when another red car is spotted, and traffic eventually eases up enough that you can continue your way home.

“So, what did Mr. Kim teach you about butterflies?” you query as you make a right turn. “Something about migration?”

Trixie nods absently, still fixated on the cars driving by in the opposite lane. “Yeah. They go south for the winter to stay warm.”

You glance at her reflection in the mirror again. “Must be nice.”

“Yeah.”

Up ahead, the light turns green. You hit the gas, debating whether to bring up Daeun or not, but your daughter speaks again before you can dwell on it any further.

“It’s weird,” Trixie says, her face still pressed against the window and her breath misting the glass. “Daeun was never mean to me before. We weren’t friends, not really. But now it feels like she’s picking on me on purpose and I don’t know why.”

Something in your chest splinters at the tone of her voice—subdued and small. She’s dragging a finger through the fogged up glass now, tracing the crooked outline of a butterfly, and you take a moment to collect your thoughts before speaking again.

“We’ll figure it out together, then, jitterbug. Now, why don’t you start thinking about what you want for dinner?”

///

Mornings are always a little chaotic in your home. Trixie is sprinting around the entirety of the two-bedroom apartment looking for her favorite scrunchie, a half-eaten piece of toast clutched in one hand and her backpack swinging from the other. In the kitchen, you’re going through a mental checklist of all the places your daughter could have possibly left the accessory while sipping on your morning coffee. The mug nearly slips from your hand when your pet cat, Taco, slinks past your legs on her way to her food bowl, and you hiss out a sharp curse.

“Fuck!” Hot liquid dribbles down your knuckles. The calico cat gives you an unimpressed look, and you glance both ways to make sure Trixie is out of earshot before wagging a reprimanding finger. “Manners, Taco. You’re better than this.”

Taco merely flicks her tail and turns back to her own breakfast, rebelliously batting her water bowl with a paw before settling down to eat. Sighing, you finish the remainder of your coffee and rinse out the mug, listening as Trixie darts in and begins rummaging through the silverware drawer.

“Bug, I don’t think your scrunchie’s in there,” you remark, earning yourself a shrug in response.

“Can’t be too careful,” she says in a startlingly accurate impression of you, and you can’t decide whether to laugh out loud or roll your eyes. Coming up empty, your daughter runs off again, and you return your attention to your bag, rifling through the folders and assignments within. “Aha!” you hear in the distance, and smile. Trixie comes bounding down the hall a few seconds later with a sparkly holographic scrunchie in hand, and you obligingly help her wind it around her ponytail as she wriggles in place with excitement.

“Ready to go?” you ask once finished, and she nods eagerly. “Have all your homework?” Another nod. “What about those books you have to return to Mr. Kim at the library?”

Trixie heaves a dramatic sigh and fixes you with a look. “Yes, Mom. Can we go now?”

You chuckle and extend your hand for her to take, heaving your bag onto your opposite shoulder. “All right, all right. Let’s go.”

Locking the front door, you and Trixie take the elevator down to the ground floor of the building and exit out into the wintry air. Your car is parked on a nearby side street, and immediately, you see that the windshield is coated in a light layer of frost. Sighing inwardly, you head toward the trunk where you store the ice scraper. Trixie releases your hand when you pop open the lid, and you turn to watch as she skips her way down the sidewalk. “Sure you don’t want a ride to school?” you call.

She stops, her nose wrinkling. “It’s lame to go to school with your teacher, Mom.”

You feign offense, slapping a hand to your heart. “Oh? I’m lame now, am I?”

“Don’t take it personal,” Trixie replies, shrugging. “All adults are kinda lame.”

With that, she waves and darts the rest of the way down the sidewalk, making her way to the bus stop at the end of the block. You watch her go, waiting until she safely joins the other half-dozen kids clustered on the corner beside the stop sign, before turning back to your car and climbing into the driver’s seat.

There’s something calming about your morning commute—something about the low hum of the engine and the whir of wheels against asphalt that soothes your soul. The route downtown is a familiar one, and you navigate it with ease. A glance at the clock on the dashboard tells you that you have just enough time to grab some breakfast, and at the next intersection, you opt to turn left instead of right. Three minutes later, you’re pulling up to your favorite coffee shop in the city, snagging one of the few remaining parking spaces on the street and braving the chill one more time as you head for the brightly painted front door beneath the cheery sign that reads, Bean There, Done That!.

The smell of warm cinnamon and vanilla washes over you as soon as you step inside the coffee shop. There’s a relatively short line, and you pull out your phone as you join it, scrolling through news articles and notifications until you reach the counter. “Good morning, Bonnie,” you greet the middle-aged woman working the cash register, before waving at the man who’s already brewing a fresh espresso in the corner. “Morning, Jin.”

“Hiya, {Name},” Jin replies. As the owner of the shop and a dear friend of yours, he knows your usual order like the back of his hand. “Got your coffee going right now.”

Bonnie smiles at you, nodding as Jin plops your finished drink down and joins her at the counter. “Morning, hun. You’re too late again, I’m afraid. Can I get you something else?”

You glance over at the glass display case where all the baked goods are housed, disappointment sinking into your stomach when you see the empty row in the bagel section. “No cinnamon streusel? Again?”

“Some guy beat you to the last one,” Jin answers as Bonnie rings up your coffee and slides it across the counter into your waiting hands. “Same one as last week, actually. He comes here pretty regularly.”

Your eyes narrow. “You mean the same jerk has taken my bagel three times now? How is it that I haven’t run into him yet?”

“I dunno—dude’s an early riser, I guess. You missed him by about ten minutes this time, but sometimes he’s in here even earlier than that.” Jin shrugs and jabs a thumb toward the back where you can just barely see the kitchen through a small window. “We’ve got more bagels going right now though, if you can wait five minutes.”

The time on your phone’s screen tells you that you cannot. “Sorry,” you tell him. “If I don’t leave now, I’ll be late for school.” Turning, you nod at Bonnie and drop a few bills into the tip jar. “See you both tomorrow.”

“Wait!” Jin pats down his apron pockets and fishes out a crumpled napkin from within. “I almost forgot. The guy—he left a note.”

“He left… what?” You frown. “Why?”

Awkwardly, Jin clears his throat. “I, uh, may have let it slip that he kept beating you to the last cinnamon streusel bagel on Friday. And then he asked if he could leave you a note, so….” Uncrumpling the napkin, he extends it toward you. “Here.”

You can’t help it—curiosity roots in your belly and winds its way to your fingers as you carefully accept the note and smooth it out on the countertop.

Better luck next time ;)

“That prick.”

Jin winces. “Yeah, I know. I mean, he does always leave a twenty in the tip jar, but yeah, totally. I’m with you. Guy’s a wang.”

You’re barely listening. Scowling, you fumble for the pen in your purse, taking the napkin that Bonnie wordlessly hands you and scribbling out your own note so fiercely you nearly rip through the papery material.

Game on, mister.

///

The rest of the week seems to drag by, until Friday arrives at long last and shepherds with it stormy gray clouds on the horizon. You’re already feeling rather grumpy—no doubt thanks in part to the collection of snarky napkin notes you’ve accumulated over the past few days—and the sun’s absence only serves to exacerbate your foul mood. Even worse, you had an unfortunate run-in with one Mr. Jungkook Jeon yesterday, meeting with him in the principal’s office following an incident where Daeun took and hid Trixie’s favorite holographic scrunchie. Thankfully, it was recovered quickly, but even now the mere thought of Jungkook Jeon’s stupid, condescending face is enough to tank your mood. Scowling, you lock your car and head in the direction of Bean There, Done That!, carefully eyeing every person who exits in an effort to discern whether they might have purchased a cinnamon streusel bagel and hoping that none of them have snagged the last.

You’re running a full forty-five minutes early today—all in an attempt to beat the damned bagel thief. Half an hour hadn’t been enough—you found that out the hard way yesterday, when Bonnie had greeted you with an apologetic smile and Jin had wordlessly doubled the usual shot of espresso in your coffee without charge. Looking back, your initial attempts to be a mere fifteen minutes earlier were feeble at worst and laughable at best. But today, you think, today will be different.

The bell over the door jingles pleasantly when you step inside the coffee shop, and you immediately deflate when Jin catches your eye and shakes his head. He’s there to greet you when you finally reach the front of the line, and you sigh as you accept the folded napkin he hands over. “He beat me? Again? Does this guy not sleep?”

“He was super early today,” Jin replies with a shrug. Groaning, you unfold the note and smooth it out on the counter, sucking in a breath when you read the words scrawled there.

What’s that saying again? Something about the early bird always getting the worm? ;)

“That fucking asshole,” you grit out. “I’m gonna kill him.”

“Testy,” Jin says, clicking his tongue. “What’s got your panties in a bunch today?”

You sigh. “School stuff, mostly. I had to meet with the father of one of my students yesterday, and he’s a real piece of work. And then I was up late grading homework.”

“You could always assign less,” Jin offers up unhelpfully, which earns him a snort and an eye-roll from you. Relenting, he instead begins pouring your coffee, chattering on as the hot liquid splashes into your cup. “So, about this guy’s impending doom. How exactly do you plan on murdering a man when you don’t even know what he looks like?”

“Stop being logical,” you groan, rubbing the bridge of your nose. “I don’t want to hear it.”

Just then, the coffee shop door flies open, letting in a gust of chilly wind. You turn to see Bonnie bustling inside, wearing a bright pink woolen hat and ushering along her eleven-year old son, Caleb. “Hi, hun,” she greets you, her nose scrunching when she sees your frown. “I take it you still haven’t found your mystery bagel man?”

You heave a sigh, shaking your head. “I don’t think I can get DNA off of his notes, so no. I have no idea who this guy is, which means I have no way of tracking him down and giving him a piece of my mind.”

Bonnie tuts sympathetically and pats your arm. “Sorry, hun.” Giving your elbow an affectionate squeeze, she slips past the counter and into the back room to grab her paycheck. Jin finishes up with your drink, and you thank him as you take a long sip. Then you turn to Bonnie’s son, who’s taken a seat in a nearby booth and is doodling on a piece of scrap paper.

“Hey, Caleb. How’s it going?”

The boy, normally quite talkative, just shrugs. Taken aback, you decide not to press the issue and instead turn back to Jin, who’s wiping down the espresso machine and whistling something that sounds vaguely like “Never Gonna Give You Up” under his breath. Bonnie returns then, and you give her a quizzical glance as she pours herself a to-go cup of coffee and adds two generous pumps of caramel syrup. Is something up with Caleb? you mouth, and watch as confusion flits across her face before realization dawns.

“Don’t worry about him,” she whispers, approaching you so you can hear. “He’s just a little bummed from yesterday. Misspelled ‘serendipity’ in the school spelling bee, and it cost him the win in the end.”

You wince. “Ouch. That hurts.”

“Yeah, that sucks real hard,” Jin chimes in from his spot at the espresso machine. “Little guy didn’t even try to steal a cookie from the display like he normally does.”

Bonnie chuckles. “I’ll grab a couple to-go, then—a double chocolate and a snickerdoodle, if you please. But then we’ve really got to head out. School starts in twenty.”

At the reminder, you pull out your phone and glance at the time. “Yeah, I need to leave soon too. Give my best to Caleb, okay? There’s always next year’s spelling bee.” Turning to Jin, you hand over your credit card to pay for the coffee before grabbing a pen and a napkin. It takes you a few seconds to figure out what you want to write, and then another few to scrawl out the note:

Don’t forget, the tortoise always beats the hare in the end.

Straightening up, you hand the napkin over to Jin, who accepts it wordlessly and tucks it into his pocket. And once he’s handed your card back to you, you wave goodbye to both Jin and Bonnie before heading out.

It’s typically a five-minute drive to Hybe Academy from the coffee shop, but this morning, it takes you almost ten. Every red light in the city has seemingly teamed up in order to make you late, and you make it through the door of your classroom with mere minutes to spare. Thankfully, the first bell hasn’t rung yet, and to your surprise, Taehyung is still lounging in your desk chair when you enter the room. The two of you have a longstanding tradition of having breakfast together in the mornings—even if breakfast just turns out to be two extra-large cups of coffee with anywhere between zero and four shots of espresso added in. Taehyung occasionally brings in some of his kitchen experiments as well, and you’ve had to politely decline his offer to share on more than one occasion.

“Hey, there you are!” Taehyung grins and props his feet up onto your desk, crossing one leg over the other. “I was just about to leave.”

“Really? It looks like you’ve made yourself pretty comfortable,” you reply, dropping your bag onto the floor and collapsing into the chair he’s pulled up beside him. “Must be nice, not having to worry about being on time for first period.”

Taehyung nestles deeper into the back of your chair and lets his eyes drift shut. “Sure is.”

You snort and take a sip of your coffee. “Jerk.”

“I’m rubber, you’re glue,” he replies without missing a beat, his eyes remaining staunchly shut.

Shaking your head, you instead direct your attention to the tupperware container that’s sitting on the desk in front of your friend. You can see what looks like some kind of pastry inside, and prod curiously at it before poking Taehyung in the shoulder. “So, what’s this? Don’t tell me you tried to make croque monsieurs again.”

“Excuse you, those weren’t even that bad,” he defends, his eyes flying open. “And no, I didn’t. I made quiche this time.”

“Right,” you say suspiciously. “And what’s in it?”

“Bacon, cheese, onions,” Taehyung lists with a shrug. “Oh, and a few baby carrots I had on hand. I didn’t really know what else to do with them.”

It’s far from the strangest combination your friend has come up with—a sentiment you voice aloud as you pry open the edge of the container and accept the fork he hands over. “This feels shockingly normal.” Cautiously, you dig into an edge and bring it to eye level so you can examine the filling. “Are you sure you’re feeling all right?”

“I’m going to start force feeding you if you don’t stop teasing,” Taehyung threatens, grabbing a fork for himself and helping himself to a generous bite. “Seriously, give it a try—I promise it’s good. I didn’t even drop any eggshells in it this time.”

Laughing, you bring the quiche to your mouth. The pastry is flaky and the filling is smooth, and you’re pleasantly surprised by the harmonious balance of seasonings that you taste. Taehyung watches in satisfaction as you go in for a bigger piece, and pushes the tupperware closer when you nearly drop it.

“Told you it was good,” he says smugly, and you can only nod your agreement and raise your coffee in silent commendation.

The two of you eat in silence for a few moments—until you remember the napkin shoved in your pocket and pull it out with a grimace. You’ve ranted to Taehyung about your new nemesis on more than one occasion by this point, and he doesn’t even blink as he flattens out the material and scans the words scrawled there. “I’ve gotta say, the guy’s got good handwriting,” he remarks, and you immediately fix him with a scowl.

“Really? You’ve got to say that?”

Taehyung holds up his hands innocently. “Just an observation,” he says. “How many of these notes do you even have now? Three?”

“Five,” you grumble. “And I’m still no closer to figuring out who he is. I don’t suppose you have access to a police database or anything, right? Some way to match this guy’s handwriting?”

“I’m pretty sure it doesn’t work like that,” is Taehyung’s blasé reply. “Besides, it’s not like you’re going to do anything, even if you do figure out who he is. You’ll just keep stewing until something else comes along, so why even bother with the manhunt in the first place?”

You sniff. “I’m raising Trixie to be a strong, determined woman who can accomplish anything she sets her mind to. What kind of example would I be setting if I can’t do this one thing?”

Taehyung doesn’t even bother trying to disguise his snort of laughter. “You’re so full of shit. Jesus Christ.”

The bell rings, then—signaling that students have five minutes to make their way to their classrooms. You sigh, and Taehyung wordlessly stands up and begins gathering his tupperware back into his bag, tucking the cutlery in last and grabbing his remaining coffee as he turns toward the door.

“Catch you later,” he says at the threshold, and you wave him off before brushing a few stray crumbs off your desk. Finishing off the last of your coffee, you pull your planner from your bag and absentmindedly shove the napkin note in its place—putting away any and all thoughts of your bagel nemesis as students slowly begin filtering into your classroom. Trixie briefly catches your eye as she files in with a couple of her friends, and you smile as you rise from your seat and begin outlining the day’s lesson plan on the chalkboard.

There’s no doubt that Fridays are your favorite. Friday afternoons at Hybe Academy are dedicated to the arts, and listening to the soft strains of music coming from the orchestra room and the various solo instruments taking lessons brings you boundless joy. You love seeing the new paintings on the walls the following Monday too, and often stay a while after school lets out on Friday to hang up the pieces produced by your own class.

But this particular Friday—it isn’t going as planned at all.

You’re beginning to think that this morning’s strike from your bagel thief was an omen. Up until two hours ago, it’s just been the usual inconveniences and minor drawbacks—a misplaced pencil here, or a spilled bit of juice there. But now, halfway through the schoolday, you feel like you’re drowning. Your stomach is growling and your hair is in disarray, and it’s all thanks to the fact that you currently have twice the amount of students you normally do occupying your classroom—all of whom are seemingly intent on covering every available surface with splatters of paint.

You can’t blame Miss Kumar, of course. Family emergencies are just that—emergencies. They can’t be predicted or controlled, and when she was called at lunchtime with unexpected news, you understood that she had to leave immediately. In an unfortunate turn of events, none of the Academy’s usual substitute teachers were available, and you soon found yourself haplessly watching on as her first-graders filed into your room with chairs in tow, taking up residence two to a desk alongside your own students.

And even though you’re doing your absolute best to maintain some semblance of order, you know you’ve lost when one of Miss Kumar’s students—Nicholas, you think his name is—upends a little plastic canister of paint onto his desk and splats both hands into it. Blue paint goes flying in every direction, and as he giggles, the other children quickly begin to follow his lead.

“Guys, no, wait—” you try to say, but it’s too late. A fully fledged paint fight has broken out, and you watch in horror as Daeun flings a dollop of yellow paint straight onto Trixie’s Hercules shirt.

If there’s a bright spot in all of this, it’s that Principal Pam Baker works fast. You’d called her mere minutes into the fight breaking out, and she’d done her part by calling the parents of the students you’d named as instigators of the fight. Those who could came in right away, and once you managed to settle everyone down, you brought their kids down to Pam’s office so that she could have a group meeting with both the parents and students alike. The remaining children you took to the library to be watched by Taehyung while you cleaned up your classroom. It’s an absolute disaster zone, and you’ve only just begun spraying down the first desk when the door flies open.

“Most of the children are at the library,” you say without turning around, scrubbing at a particularly stubborn bit of red paint on the corner of the desk with a wet wipe. “If you’re looking for your child, you’d best head over there.”

“Actually, I’m here to speak to you,” a familiar voice says, and dread pools in your stomach as you turn and find yourself face-to-face with none other than Jungkook Jeon, his dark eyes unreadable. On his wrist, just barely concealed beneath the sleeve of his charcoal overcoat, you can see his expensive silver watch glinting in the fluorescent light.

“Mr. Jeon,” you manage once you’ve found your voice again. “How can I help you?”

For a few long seconds, Jungkook remains silent. He steps over the threshold and into your classroom, taking in the paint-splattered walls and the chairs scattered haphazardly about. Then his gaze settles on you, his nose wrinkling slightly as he speaks again.

“It smells in here.”

“It’s the paint,” you answer shortly, stepping over an upended cup of brushes and making your way to the window. Fumbling with the lock, you struggle for a few seconds before finally managing to heave it open, letting in a welcome gust of cool wintry air.

Jungkook watches all of this in silence. Then he hums, faint amusement lacing his voice. “I see that.”

Irritation blooms in your belly at his blasé tone. “What did you want to talk about, Mr. Jeon? If you’re looking for Daeun, I’m afraid she’s down the hall in Principal Baker’s office.”

“I’m well aware of that.” Jungkook takes a step forward, the heels of his sleek black oxfords clicking against the tiled floor. “This is the second time you’ve lost control of your classroom, I believe. And tell me, Miss {L/N}, why has my daughter been sent to the principal’s office two days in a row, now?”

You glance up from where you’ve begun wiping at a spot of hot pink paint on the windowsill. “With all due respect, Mr. Jeon, I think that’s a question that only Daeun can answer.”

“Daeun.” There’s outright laughter in Jungkook’s voice now—but it’s the humorless sort that makes the hairs on your neck stand on end. “Right, of course. The blame is always on my daughter, isn’t it? Never any of the others. Never your own.”

For a moment, you can only stare at him. Then, without even fully realizing what you’re doing, you begin walking forward. First one step, and then another—until the tips of your sensible block heels are mere inches from the tips of his oxfords. Emotion is building steadily in your chest—a cocktail of exhaustion and anger topped off with the day’s frustrations—and all of it comes flooding out as you raise your chin and look Jungkook Jeon square in the eye.

“Unlike you, I saw what happened today, Mr. Jeon. Several students were responsible for instigating and perpetuating this fight, and unfortunately, Daeun was one of them. I don’t appreciate you implying that I favor any of my students over others, and I certainly don’t appreciate you questioning my ability as a teacher.” Your chest heaves as you pause to take a breath. “I am a professional, Mr. Jeon. Maybe you don’t think so, but I am. I’ve been teaching for nearly a decade, and I’ve spent almost every day with these children for the past year. You don’t get to come in here and disrespect me in my own classroom. I don’t care how much money you give to this school. I’m not beholden to you or your money, and I’ll thank you to not come in here with unnecessary attitude and finger-pointing.”

Your blood is rushing in your ears by the time your speech comes to an end. Jungkook is silent, staring down his nose at you for three long seconds before he deliberately raises a dark eyebrow. “Are you finished?” he asks.

You shiver as his hot breath fans against your cheeks. “No.” And then, in a surge of stupid, adrenaline-fueled bravery, you add, “I kind of want to cuss you out, to be honest.”

The other eyebrow rises to join the first, as a huff of wry laughter escapes his lips. “Oh?”

You deflate slightly, your bottom lip finding its way between your teeth. It shouldn’t be so easy for a parent to get a rise out of you, but Jungkook seems to do it so easily—and so often. “I’m not going to,” you murmur.

“No?” Jungkook’s gaze darts down to your lips, then up to your eyes, and then down to your lips again. “That’s rather disappointing.”

Unwittingly, you’ve drifted even closer to him since you first started talking. You can see each fleck of amber in his irises, and could probably count each of his individual eyelashes if you so cared. This close to him, you can see that one of his eyebrows is pierced—his dark hair brushed back just enough to reveal the silvery metal embedded in his skin. You don’t pull away though, and neither does he. If anything, he seems to be willing you closer—his lips parting and his tongue darting out to moisten them.

And then he blinks, and you pull back as if burned. “If… if that’s all, I should really get back to cleaning up,” you stammer, hating the wobble in your voice as you return to your desk and grab a fresh wet wipe. “Principal Baker’s office is down the hall on the left.”

“I remember. I was there yesterday, after all.” The faint amusement has returned to his tone. Straightening his tie, he begins making his way to the exit, only to pause in the doorframe and glance at you once more over his shoulder. “Oh, and Miss {L/N}?”

You look up. “Yes?”

“You should really look in a mirror. It looks like a Smurf exploded on your face.”

///

Saturday brings with it clear blue skies and a sweet, sweet reprieve from the chaos of the week. You’d promised Trixie that you would make ratatouille together over the weekend—just like in the movie—and now you’re making good on that promise as you push a shopping cart around the grocery store with your daughter skipping happily by your side. “Ooh! We need these, right?” she exclaims, pointing at a display of zucchini, and you nod, watching as she carefully selects two and plunks them into the cart.

Together, the two of you finish up in the produce section and head for the aisles that house all the baking goods. Trixie peruses the shelves as you stock up on the essentials—flour, sugar, and a couple boxes of baking soda. Then you grab a package of chocolate chips, laughing when Trixie immediately perks up at the sound of the bag crinkling and whirls around to look at you with wide, eager eyes.

“Can we do chocolate chip and peanut butter cookies?” she asks, clasping her hands in front of her chest.

“I think you’re pushing your luck, young lady,” you tell her, but relent when she selflessly offers to bring the extras to class on Monday to share.

Ten minutes later, you’re heading toward the checkout line when you suddenly realize that you’ve forgotten something. “Tomatoes,” you say aloud, glancing down at Trixie apologetically. “Totally slipped my mind. Let’s go grab some, bug.”

Trixie sighs dramatically, but turns toward the produce section nonetheless. Faster than you can blink, she trots off, leaving you to trail after her with the shopping cart. Maneuvering around a particularly tall display of onions, you pull out your phone to check the grocery list one more time—only to be interrupted by the metallic clang of your shopping cart hitting another. Immediately, you open your mouth to apologize, but stop short when your eyes meet the owner of the other cart.

“O-oh,” you stammer, your head spinning as you try to recover your full vocabulary. “Mr. Jeon. I… I didn’t see you there.”

Jungkook chuckles. “That much I gathered.” Then he nods toward Trixie, who you can just barely see two aisles and a crate of watermelons away. “Doing some shopping, Miss {L/N}?”

You don’t respond. Your brain is in overdrive, struggling to reconcile the Jungkook standing in front of you with the one you’d seen just yesterday in your paint-splattered classroom. His dark hair isn’t parted neatly across his forehead for once—instead, it falls in soft waves around his face. Rather reluctantly, your brain acknowledges that he looks good—irritatingly so. You’ve never seen him in casual clothes before—only neatly pressed suits that cost more than your entire paycheck—and the change is jarring to say the least. His purple sweatshirt is baggy and his black joggers are just tight enough to show off the definition of his thighs, and—

—hang on, is he wearing Birkenstocks?

Trixie, thankfully, comes to the rescue as you gape at Jungkook’s feet for several seconds too long. “Is this enough?” she asks, lugging a plastic bag bulging with at least a dozen heirloom tomatoes. Still a little shellshocked, you look down at her, blinking dumbly before bursting into laughter.

“That’s plenty, bug. In fact, we probably need to put some back, unless you want tomatoes in your cookies too.”

“That doesn’t sound too bad,” Trixie says thoughtfully, pursing her lips. “Or we can make marinara and have spaghetti and meatballs tomorrow!”

Jungkook chooses that moment to huff out a laugh of his own. “Spaghetti and meatballs, huh? Great minds must think alike—Daeun suggested the exact same thing for our dinner tonight. Only thing is, we’re apparently making everything by hand, even the spaghetti. And we’ve never made pasta before, so…” He chuckles. “You can imagine how well that’ll probably go.”

You glance around the nearest visible aisles. “Daeun’s a proper little chef, I see. Is she here with you?”

The dark-haired man gestures toward the back of the grocery store. “I tasked her with grabbing some milk and eggs while I get the onions. She won’t go near them until they’re cooked, so I figured this would be most efficient.”

You grin. “Divide and conquer, huh?”

“Exactly,” Jungkook answers with a surprisingly boyish smile. You note with amusement that his front teeth are more prominent than the rest, just enough to give him the resemblance of a rabbit. Rather unfairly, it somehow manages to work in his favor when put together with the rest of him. Your cheeks warm when you register again just how handsome he truly is, and you quickly suck in a deep breath as you search around for a distraction.

You’re in luck. Daeun rounds the corner of a nearby display of cantaloupes with a wide grin, a gallon jug of milk and a carton of eggs in either hand. Her grin widens when she spots you, and you chuckle as she tries and fails to raise her jug-bearing hand to wave.

“Hi, Miss {L/N}!” she exclaims as she comes to a stop alongside Jungkook’s cart and deposits her goods inside. “What’re you doing here?”

“Dae,” Jungkook chides gently, but you laugh and wave him off.

“Hi, Daeun. I’m doing some shopping with Trixie, just like you are with your dad. Speaking of which—you probably have a lot of cooking to get to.” You return your attention to Jungkook. “I mean, I know we do. Somehow, I was talked into making two types of cookies this weekend, so we should really head out and get started.”

“Wait—hang on a second.” Jungkook speaks again, and maybe it’s your imagination but you think you hear a tinge of desperation in his tone. “I’m actually glad we ran into you today. We were going to do this on Monday but since you’re both here, Daeun has something she’d like to say to Trixie. Isn’t that right, Dae?”

Daeun’s gaze drops to where she’s scuffing her sneakered feet against the tiled linoleum floor. Jungkook reaches down, giving her an encouraging nudge, and she hesitates for a second before looking back up and glancing between you and Trixie. “I’m sorry,” she begins shyly. “I shouldn’t’ve thrown paint at you. Or taken your book.” And when Jungkook nudges her again and lifts an eyebrow, she continues again. “And… I’m sorry for laughing when you fell down on the playground. It wasn’t funny, and I wasn’t being nice. I’m really sorry, Trixie.”

There’s a beat of silence, as Daeun falls silent and looks at your daughter hopefully. You glance between the two girls, then up at Jungkook, who still has a hand on Daeun’s shoulder and seems to be holding his breath. Trixie, for her part, looks to be deep in thought, her face scrunched in contemplation as she taps a finger against her lips. Vaguely, you wonder if you should say something, but decide against it.

And then Trixie beams, toothy and bright. Daeun’s answering smile is still tentative, but it transforms into full-blown giggles when your daughter rushes forward and clasps one of her hands in both of her own. “I forgive you,” she says shortly, giving her hand a shake like a little businesswoman. You and Jungkook watch on as the two girls proceed to skip off, hand-in-hand and singing “Baby Shark”.

“Wow,” you remark, turning back to Jungkook. “I have to admit, I’m a little surprised. What brought that on?”

Jungkook begins to look rather sheepish, scratching at the back of his neck. “I actually have a bit of a confession to make. Not to mention, I owe you a huge apology. I talked to Dae last night, and… well, you were right. She wasn’t acting out for no reason. She… she was actually jealous of Trixie."

You frown. "What?"

He nods. "Yeah. See, I got promoted at my job a while ago. Right after the holidays, I had to start working longer hours, which of course meant less time at home with her. And I guess all of that took its toll, especially since I had to stop taking her to school every morning.” He sighs. “She didn’t adjust very well to that. I tried my best to make things work, but there’s only so much I can do, you know? Eventually I had to set up a morning carpool with some of the neighbors. And I tried to ease the transition as much as I could, but…” He trails off with another sigh. “Guess I did kind of a shit job there.”

Your mind is reeling at all of this new information, but you manage to find your voice again after a few moments. “You did your best,” you tell him, resisting the sudden urge to reach out and touch his arm. “And you’re still trying. That’s all that matters, you know. You’re trying to make things better. Daeun can sense that, and believe me, it’s paying off.”

Jungkook chuckles. “I think you’re giving me too much credit, but thank you. I’m just glad that Dae has a good school and good teachers. Actually, you’ve always been her favorite, did you know that?”

You didn’t. “Really?”

“Really.”

You aren’t sure what to say after that, so you opt to look around instead. At some point—you aren’t sure when—the two of you must’ve started walking around the grocery store again because all around you are shelves full of bread and baked goods. Mindlessly, you grab a bag of everything bagels and smile when Jungkook follows your lead and drops a bag into his own cart.

A few minutes of meandering later, you find Trixie and Daeun together in the snack aisle, deep in discussion about their favorite candies. The conversation winds down as you and Jungkook approach, and you decide not to comment when Trixie not-so-surreptitiously slips a package of chocolate caramels into your shopping cart.

“We should probably get going,” you say instead, pulling out your phone and glancing at the time. “Gosh, there really aren’t enough hours in the day. You ready, bug?”

“Yep!” Trixie replies cheerily, turning to wave goodbye to Daeun and Jungkook. “Bye, Daeun! Bye, Mr. Jeon!”

“See you Monday, Trixie! You too, Miss {L/N}!” Daeun exclaims. And as you and Jungkook exchange smiles and farewells of your own, you feel lighter than you’ve felt in days, as if an invisible weight has lifted.

///

Like clockwork, Monday morning finds you at the counter of Bean There, Done That! with an apologetic Jin offering you your usual coffee in a size larger than the one you’d paid for. “Again?” you exclaim as you accept the cup and take a generous sip. “I can’t believe this. You opened like, twenty minutes ago.”

The corner of Jin’s mouth twitches. Then, with a dramatic flourish, he produces a full tray of cinnamon streusel bagels from somewhere beneath the counter, picking out the best-looking one before sliding the tray into its spot in the display. “I just wanted to see the look on your face,” he admits as he slips the bagel into a paper bag and hands it over. “These are fresh—still pretty warm, in fact. Surprised you didn’t smell them when you came in.”

“I did smell them,” you tell him, wagging a finger. “But the blueberry bagels are always kind of overpowering and this whole place tends to smell like vanilla anyway, so excuse me for taking you for your word when you said you were out.”

“You know, a simple ‘thank you’ would’ve sufficed,” Jin sniffs. Then he gestures to the stack of napkins next to the cash register and waggles his eyebrows. “Care to leave a snarky note of your own?”

A slow grin spreads across your face as you start fishing in your purse for a pen. “Abso-fucking-lutely.”

///

The rest of the day goes smoothly, and you’re pretty sure it’s all thanks to the cinnamon streusel bagel you’d had the time to truly savor this morning. You’d even bought an extra for Taehyung, who for his part contributed a tupperware full of bacon strips and a pitcher of mixed berry smoothie to your breakfast. For lunch you’d made sure to eat a healthy dose of vegetables, and as you head into the final period of the day, you feel more than ready to give a room full of children their next big assignment.

“All right, class,” you say as your students filter into the classroom and start taking their seats. “We’ve been learning about the animal kingdom for the last few weeks, and it’s finally time to put everything we’ve learned so far together. I’m going to go around and hand each of you a card. Take a look at it—you’ll either see a picture of an animal, or the name of an animal.” Grabbing the stack of cards off your desk, you begin distributing them, slowly making your way up and down the rows of desks. “Then, I want you to get up out of your seats and find the card that matches yours. If there’s a picture of a zebra on your card, you want to find the person with ‘zebra’ written on their card. And that person will be your partner for this project. Does that make sense to everyone?”

Nods and exclamations of affirmation all around. Satisfied, you hand out the last of your cards and return to your desk, gesturing for your students to stand up and find their partners. You watch as the children mill around, exclaiming happily when they find their match. Much to your satisfaction, you see that Daisy—a little girl who always has her blond hair corralled into a neat braid—and Josiah—a well-mannered boy with a different-colored polo for each day of the week—just so happen to be partners. You hadn’t planned it that way, but you’ve always gotten the feeling that there was a hint of a little crush there.

Another pleasant surprise comes in the form of Daeun, who’s plopped herself in the seat beside Trixie and is animatedly gesturing at her card. Even from your spot in the front of the classroom, you can read the big block letters that spell out “penguin” and see the corresponding line drawing on Trixie’s card. And as the girls begin to chat, it’s as if the issues of the last few months hadn’t happened at all.

Your class spends the last few hours of the school day in the library, working on their newly assigned project. You’ve set up shop at the table nearest Taehyung’s desk, which you’ve always kind of envied. Perfectly round and situated in the center of the room, it allows for a 360-degree view of the entire library if he so much as spins in his chair. “Honestly, I could get so much done if I had one of these,” you lament to him as you watch Josiah sharpen Daisy’s pencil for her out of the corner of your eye. “I’d set up the best frickin’ assembly line you ever saw.”

“You sound like a workaholic,” Taehyung replies, doing yet another lazy revolution in his seat. “Or a lunatic. Same thing, really.”

Resisting the urge to stick your tongue out at him, you settle for rolling your eyes instead. The final bell of the day rings, and you shepherd your students out of the library with your friend on your heels. As the children disperse to their lockers, you trail after Trixie and Daeun, waiting for the two to say their goodbyes so you and your daughter can walk to the car together. It’s still odd seeing the two getting along so well, but you aren’t about to question it as you and Taehyung follow the girls to their lockers—which happen to be in the same section of the hallway—and then out and into the bright afternoon sun. Smiling, you listen to them chattering excitedly about the project even as Taehyung launches into a tirade about his latest rent increase.

“Seriously, I should just move at this point—it’s fucking ridiculous. I don’t even use the conference center, and the indoor pool is just a waste of space when there’s a public one that’s twice the size three blocks away. And that one even has a hot tub! Not to mention—”

You sigh, cutting him off mid-sentence. “Jeez, Tae, just move. You’ve been threatening to for over a year now, and it’s not like anyone’s forcing you to stay. You don’t even like the neighborhood, for god’s sake. I don’t know why you stuck around for that long.”

Taehyung sniffs. “Moving’s just such a hassle, you know? I really wanted to avoid it, but I guess I can’t this time around. A 22% rent increase… fucking hell. You’ll help me pack, won’t you?”

“I’d rather not.”

“But you’re so good at packing! And you have all that bubble wrap and the box of styrofoam peanuts hoarded in your closet—”

“Stored in my closet.”

“Whatever,” he says dismissively, waving you off. “I’m not here to debate semantics with you.”

“No, you’re here to guilt me into helping you move,” you reply. “What’s up with that, anyway? I thought you swore off of renting U-Hauls for good after last time. You were googling moving companies and getting quotes for weeks.”

“Yeah, I definitely lost that spreadsheet,” Taehyung admits. “Besides, money’s a little tight right now. Every last bit of spare change we have is going toward Jimin’s new pilates studio. We’re saving wherever and whenever we can.”

You nod in understanding at the mention of his fiancé and his new business venture. “How’s all that going, anyhow? I know Jimin’s been super busy—we haven’t been to bar trivia in weeks.”

“Yeah, it’s a whole thing,” Taehyung says, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Starting a business is hard—who knew?”

“Who knew, indeed,” you echo. You’re about to say something else, too, but any semblance of coherence flies out of your head when you glance at the girls again and see that they’ve come to a stop. There’s a sleek black Mercedes-Benz idling at the curb, and leaning against it is none other than Jungkook Jeon—dressed in a sharp navy blue ensemble with his hair slicked back and dark sunglasses perched on his nose. It’s impossible to tell whether he’s seen you yet, and it’s all you can do to tear your gaze away before you get caught staring. Turning back instead to Taehyung, you raise a hand in farewell. “Well, it looks like this is my stop.”

“Seems that way,” your friend hums, casting a curious glance at Trixie, who’s enthusiastically greeted Jungkook with a Hi again, Mr. Jeon! and is now giggling with Daeun about how they can see their reflections in his car. “See you tomorrow. Don’t get into too much trouble!”

You roll your eyes at the flagrant wink Taehyung sends your way, surreptitiously flipping him off from behind your tote bag. Then you make your way over to your daughter, who’s still engrossed in conversation. Coming to a stop behind her, you lay a hand on her shoulder, smiling as she looks up and flashes you a big grin. “All righty. You ready to go home, jitterbug?” you ask.

Trixie juts her bottom lip out into a pout. “Can I go to Daeun’s?”

You raise an eyebrow, glancing up at Jungkook, who’s now scrolling through his phone. Then you return your gaze to your daughter, taking in her eager, bright eyes. “I don’t know, bug. Have you asked Mr. Jeon if you can come over?”

Daeun pipes up then, her pigtails bobbing with every word. “He says it’s okay, Miss {L/N}! Since we have a project to work on and all. He even said we can order takeout for dinner!”

Again, you look at Jungkook. His expression is unreadable behind his sunglasses, but when he feels your gaze he glances up, tucking his phone back into his pocket and pushing his sunglasses up onto his head. “Dae’s right—I did promise the girls takeout. Sorry to catch you off guard with last-minute plans like this, Miss {L/N}. If you’d like, you’re welcome to join us as well.”

You blink. To say that the invitation has caught you off guard would be a massive understatement, and as your brain races to catch up, you suddenly realize that he’s willing to let you come to his home. You would be in his space—where he lives, eats, sleeps. The thought is simultaneously terrifying and exhilarating.

“I—I don’t want to impose,” you finally manage after what feels like an eternity. “I’m sure you’re busy, and I have a lot of homework to grade, and…” You trail off, hesitant, and Jungkook waits a beat before chiming in.

“No imposition at all,” he says, offering you a small smile. “Honest. I’ve spent two of the last three weekends hosting sleepovers for Daeun’s friends, and I’m not convinced I remember what adult company is like anymore.” Then his smile widens—just enough to offer a glimpse of his endearingly prominent front teeth and crinkle the corners of his eyes. “Remind me?”

You aren’t sure if you’re imagining the flirtatious edge in his tone, but you push the thought to the very back of your head and straighten the hem of your blouse before grasping for the phone tucked in your bag. “I… I suppose that would be all right,” you begin hesitantly as you pretend to check for new notifications. “You’re sure it won’t be any trouble?”

“None at all,” Jungkook reassures. “Here, I’ll give you my address for your GPS, but it might be easier if you just follow me. Where are you parked?”

You gesture toward the staff parking lot, which is usually separated from the main lot by a row of neatly manicured hydrangea bushes that bloom in bursts of pink and blue and purple during the spring and summer months. Right now, there are only a few sparse yellow daffodils, pushing up through the dirt and signaling that spring is not far off despite the lingering chill in the air. “I’m about three rows in. I can drive over and meet you here, if that works?”

Trixie chooses that moment to pipe up, instinctively raising her hand like she’s still in class. “Can I ride with Daeun and Mr. Jeon?”

You hesitate, glancing over at Jungkook, who shrugs as if to say fine by me. Turning your attention back to your daughter, you nod and reach down to adjust the glittery pink scrunchie in her hair. “Be good,” you order. “Don’t distract Mr. Jeon while he’s driving, okay?”

“Mmhmm,” Trixie hums, already turning toward the sleek black Benz and tugging on the door handle. “See you there, Mom!”

You wave, watching as the girls climb into the backseat before turning and making your way to your own car. Unlocking the door, you slide into the driver’s seat and take a deep breath. Then, you take another. And a few moments later, you take a third.

Even as you mentally play back the events of the afternoon, you still can’t wrap your head around how it came to this. Here you are, about to drive to Jungkook Jeon’s house. You’ve seen his address in your files, and you know from the street name that he lives downtown, in the part of the city that’s dominated by high-rise buildings and five-star hotels. It’s an area that you don’t visit often, having no reason to unless there’s a particular restaurant that you’re looking to try out—and have the money for. It feels odd inputting his address into your phone’s navigation app, but you do so nonetheless, watching as it calculates the optimal route.

Steeling yourself, you start up the ignition and ease up on the brake. As you pull out of your parking space, you crane your head to see if Jungkook’s car is still where you’d last seen it, which it thankfully is. Slowly, you make your way over to where the Benz is idling, pulling up alongside him and giving him a little wave. Jungkook has donned his sunglasses again, but he lowers them when he sees you and nods in acknowledgment. Ready to go? he mouths, and you nod even though it’s a lie. You aren’t ready. You aren’t sure you ever will be. But Jungkook is already pulling ahead and out of the parking lot, and you’re forced to push aside your intrusive thoughts and follow.

The first stretch of the drive is easy. Jungkook is a measured driver, and you can tell that he’s taking care to turn only when there’s enough room for both of your vehicles. The second stretch, however, proves far more difficult. Now that you’re downtown, there’s an abundance of one-way streets and pedestrians. Traffic lights sit on seemingly every corner, alternating between red, yellow, and green at random, as far as you can tell. You nearly lose Jungkook twice on particularly short green lights, and only narrowly avoid hitting an overeager dog dragging its hapless owner into the crosswalk before the walk sign has changed.

The third time, it finally happens. Dismayed, you watch as Jungkook’s sleek black Benz cruises past a green light, just before it turns yellow for a split second and then flips to red. You’re forced to brake far faster than you’d prefer—way too fast to be safe, for sure—and watch as Jungkook disappears around the Starbucks on the next corner. Muttering out a quiet curse, you drum your fingers impatiently on the steering wheel as you wait for the light to change again. Thankfully, you’re only about two minutes from your destination.

After what feels like an eternity, the light finally turns green. Releasing your foot on the brake, you take the turn that Jungkook had taken, glancing between your phone and the surrounding buildings to identify your destination. There’s a string of restaurants, a pharmacy, and a post office. You cruise past a dentist’s office and a few dry cleaners, and then your phone is directing you to turn right onto a street that boasts a long row of glass-fronted office buildings.

Two blocks later, you’re pulling up to a tall, sleek chrome building. The first floor is occupied by a seafood restaurant and the second and third seem to be a gym, but as you crane your head upward you can see that the floors above that seem to be condominiums. Letting your head fall back against the headrest, you glance down at your phone one more time, confirming that this is indeed your destination. Then you take a long, deep breath before you begin following the little blue signs that claim to lead to a parking garage beneath the building.

To your relief, the garage itself isn’t difficult to find. You take a ticket from the machine as you descend down the concrete ramp, keeping an eye out for any open spots that are designated as guest parking. Seconds pass, and then minutes. Your heart flutters nervously in your chest as you descend deeper into the parking garage, seeking a break in the rows of cars that never comes. You’re seconds away from giving up and turning around, when finally, you see an open spot. It’s a little cramped and it’s right next to a concrete pillar that’s just a little too close for comfort, but you manage to squeeze into the space. Heaving a deep sigh of relief, you turn off the ignition and tuck your keys into your purse, taking a moment to gather yourself before exiting your car and locking it behind you.

That’s when you encounter your next obstacle: figuring out how, exactly, to get out of the parking garage. You can’t find a single sign to guide your way—only a locked dark green door that you assume is some kind of mechanical room. Groaning, you spin in a full circle, taking in your concrete surroundings. Maybe if you just start walking, you’ll find a sign that will point you to the elevators. You’d even consider taking the stairs at this point, no matter how many floors down you are (you’re pretty sure it’s seven or eight).

Just then, your phone begins to buzz in your pocket. Pulling it out, you see Jungkook Jeon (Daeun’s Dad) emblazoned across the screen and immediately swipe to answer. “Hello?”

“Hey,” Jungkook says, obvious relief coloring his tone. “I’m sorry I lost you back there. Where are you now?”

“I’m in the parking garage below your building,” you reply, idly scuffing your foot along the concrete floor. “I’m parked pretty far down, and now I can’t seem to figure out how to get upstairs.”

Jungkook hums thoughtfully. “Yeah, I’ll admit the signage isn’t great down there. Let me see… can you see any doors?”

“Just this green one, but it’s locked.” Reaching out, you try the handle again to double-check. “Other than that, nothing.”

Another hum from the man on the other end of the line. “Okay, walk away from that door. Try and head toward the middle of the garage—that’s where the elevators are. There’s four of them, and they’re in this big concrete circle. Can you see them yet?”

“Maybe?” You can see a break in the rows of cars up ahead, and a rounded concrete wall in the distance. Speeding up, you make your way around the edge and blink as a bank of elevators comes into view. “Oh, wait—yeah! Huh. Weird. I didn’t expect the doors to be orange.”

Jungkook chuckles. “Each floor’s color-coordinated, yeah. Orange means you’re near the bottom, though. Didn’t you see the guest parking on the first floor?”

You blink. “No, I don’t think so. Did I miss something?”

That draws another chuckle from him. “Probably. There’s a row of spaces off to the right as soon as you enter the garage, but it can be pretty easy to miss if you don’t know to look for it. I should’ve given you a heads-up.”

“It’s okay,” you tell him as you enter the elevator and hit the button for the thirty-fourth floor. “I could’ve asked.”

Bidding him farewell and assuring that you’ll see him soon, you hang up and tuck your phone back into your pocket. The elevator ride is relatively short despite how high you’re going, and before you know it you find yourself standing in front of a navy blue door with a polished brass knocker. Raising your hand, you’re about to knock when the door flies open, revealing Daeun and Trixie standing there with identical grins.

“You’re finally here!” your daughter exclaims, bounding forward to take you by the hand and lead you inside. “Mr. Jeon said we had to wait for you to get here. He says he’s gonna give us a grand tour!”

“It’s really not as exciting as they’re making it sound.” Jungkook’s voice comes from around the corner, and the man himself steps into view a moment later. He’s taken off his jacket and removed his tie, leaving him in navy slacks and a crisp white shirt with the first few buttons undone. Your gaze lingers a little too long on this newly exposed sliver of chest, but you forcibly tear your gaze away when Trixie gives your hand a squeeze.

“Come on, Mom! You can see everything from the window. It’s like you’re on top of a mountain!”

Laughing, you follow your daughter deeper into the apartment. She points to the closet off the foyer, where you obligingly hang up your coat next to her periwinkle one. Then she leads you to the far end of the foyer, where it opens into a wide hallway. On the other side of the hall is an archway that leads to a spacious kitchen with white cabinets and polished granite countertops. You take note of the bright yellow bar stools at the kitchen island, chuckling when Daeun loudly declares that she picked them out—and that Jungkook had caved to her despite wanting boring gray ones instead.

As you continue your tour, it becomes abundantly clear that Jungkook has caved to his daughter on multiple occasions. The furniture in the living area is neutral—shades of beige and dark wood that pair well with the polished floorboards and modern floor-to-ceiling windows. But scattered throughout the space are pops of color and quirkiness that you can confidently attribute to Daeun—having graded several of the art pieces that you now see hanging on the wall and adorning the sleek glass coffee table. There’s the lopsided clay vase painted with streaks of hot pink and specks of bright yellow, and there’s the papier-mâché snowman with his jaunty orange hat. You see more and more of Daeun’s influence everywhere you look—the watercolor butterfly paintings on the wall, and the red floral accent chair that you’re sure Jungkook didn’t pick out himself.

“That’s Daddy’s room,” Daeun says, pointing to a nondescript white door beside the bookshelves that flank the flatscreen TV hanging on the wall. Then she points down the hall, past the kitchen where you can see a few more doors. “And that’s my room down there, next to Daddy’s office. Do you want to see?”

You nod. “I can’t wait. Lead the way.”

Cheerfully, Daeun gestures for you to follow after her as she skips toward the door at the very end of the hall. She opens it with a flourish, allowing all of you inside, and as soon as you step past the threshold you’re transported to a fantastical world. Daeun’s bedroom walls are painted to resemble an enchanted forest, complete with delicate fairy lights wrapped around the wooden four-poster bed. A white desk and an accompanying green chair sit in front of the floor-to-ceiling window, the pale pink curtains opened to let sunlight stream in. Along the sill is a collection of stuffed animals, ranging from a tiny butterfly to an elephant that you’re pretty sure is taller than Daeun herself. Opposite the bed is a gallery wall, composed of colorful floral prints and Daeun’s own art—a charming, eclectic mix of animal paintings and landscapes. It’s the kind of bedroom that you would’ve loved as a child, and your daughter is equally taken with it if her awed expression is anything to go by.

“This is so cool!” Trixie runs to the window to peer out at the city below, before twirling in a circle to take in the art on the walls. “I can’t believe you live here. It’s like a magic forest!”

“It’s a beautiful room,” you remark, nodding your agreement. “And all of these drawings are amazing, Daeun. You’re a talented artist.”

Daeun flushes at the compliment, thanking you with a shy smile. Then she and Trixie are off again, speeding down the hallway to look at something else in the apartment. You and Jungkook trail after them slowly, until he opens another door off the hall to reveal his office. It’s smaller than Daeun’s bedroom and far more simplistic in its decor, but it’s a cozy and inviting space nonetheless. One wall is lined with mahogany bookshelves, and a polished wooden desk is pushed against the opposite. A plush burgundy armchair with a matching ottoman sits in the corner beside a tall potted plant, creating the perfect space for reading, and you can tell from the indentation in the seat cushion that it’s been well-loved over the years.

“I’ve definitely been bringing my work home too much lately,” Jungkook admits. “I’ve been cutting back though. Ever since Daeun’s behavioral problems…” He trails off. “Well, you know all about that already. And I do want to apologize for giving you a hard time. It’s just… I guess it’s not all that fun being told that you’re failing as a parent.”

“You’re not failing as a parent,” you reply, laying a hand on his arm before you can think to stop yourself. “You’re doing your best. It’s all we can do, isn’t it? Do everything we possibly can for our children?”

He nods, but he isn’t looking at you. He’s looking down at your hand on his arm, and you blanch inwardly as you quickly pull back and pretend to brush invisible dirt off your skirt. “We should go find the girls,” you murmur. And just like that, the tour is over.

The two of you rejoin the girls in the kitchen, where they’ve begun assembling themselves a snack of peanut butter and crackers. Jungkook slices up an apple and a banana for them to share, and they barely take the time to thank him before disappearing into Daeun’s bedroom to work on their project. You and Jungkook find yourselves alone in the kitchen, and when the silence between you has stretched on for just long enough to be awkward, you decide to speak. “So. I guess I should probably grade some homework while I’m here.”

Jungkook blinks and shakes his head a little, as if coming out of a trance. “Right, of course. I’ve got a few things I need to wrap up myself. Please, make yourself comfortable. You’re free to work in the office, if you’d like.”

Immediately, you shake your head. “Oh, no. I don’t want to intrude.”

He nods, then gestures out toward the dining table, which sits in a little nook between the main living area and kitchen. “Well then, feel free to make use of the table. Or the kitchen island. Or even the couch, if you’d prefer.” He pauses. “Wait, where are my manners? I haven’t even offered you anything to drink! Did you want anything?”

“Oh.” You hesitate. “I’m okay.”

Jungkook begins making his way to the refrigerator, regardless. “Seriously, it’s no trouble. I have coffee, tea, banana milk, and I think there’s probably a carton of apple juice in here too. What do you usually drink when you’re grading?”

“Tea,” you admit. “Any kind. I’m not picky.”

“Tea it is.” Jungkook sets about grabbing two mugs. “Go on, make yourself comfortable. I’ll bring it to you.”

For a moment, you wonder if you should ask if he needs help. But he’s already preoccupied with the kettle, his back to you, and you have to force yourself to look away from the way his broad shoulders taper into his slim waist. In an attempt to distract yourself from gawking, you walk back out to the dining table. Pulling out a chair, you settle your bag on the floor beside you and take a seat. And by the time Jungkook comes out of the kitchen with two steaming mugs of tea, you’re already halfway through grading the first math worksheet in your pile.

“Here you go.” Jungkook places a mug by your elbow, and you glance up at him with a grateful smile.

“Thanks.” “No problem.”

To your surprise, he takes his mug to the opposite side of the table and sets it down. Then he disappears into the kitchen, returning a few seconds later with his laptop in hand. You try not to stare as he sets up shop across from you, a loose lock of dark hair flopping across his forehead as he logs in and begins reading something, his dark eyes flitting across the screen. His piercing in his eyebrow glints in the sunlight streaming in through the nearby window.

Ripping your gaze away, you force yourself to focus on the homework you need to grade. And after a few minutes, you’re fully immersed, thumbing through sheet after sheet and writing down your notes.

Before you even realize it, two hours have passed. You only become aware of how late it’s getting when Jungkook shuts his laptop with a click, stretching his arms overhead and working a few kinks out of his neck. “It’s almost dinnertime,” he remarks, glancing out the window where the sun is steadily dropping closer to the horizon. “Did you have any thoughts about dinner? I can order some pizza or something.”

“Oh, I don’t think—” you begin to protest, but Daeun and Trixie choose that moment to dash in like mini tornadoes, whirling around the dining table.

“We can still order takeout for dinner, right Daddy?” Daeun gazes up at Jungkook with pleading eyes, clasping her hands in front of her chest. “And Trixie and Miss {L/N} can stay if we do, right?”

Trixie looks at you, lower lip already beginning to jut out in a pout. “Please, Mom?”

Jungkook gives you a meaningful glance across the table, and you can only shrug and relent. “Yeah, all right. Since takeout was already promised, we can stay for dinner. But we’re going home after that, okay? It’s a school night.”

The girls burst into cheers. After a brief discussion on what kind of food to order, you all settle on Jungkook’s initial suggestion of pizza. As he puts in the order, you begin tidying up the dining table, clearing it of your graded homework. Daeun points out where the plates are kept, and together, you and the girls set the table for dinner.

“Estimated delivery time is half an hour,” Jungkook says as he tucks his phone back into his pocket and joins you at the dining table. “What should we do while we wait?”

“Let’s play Candyland!” Daeun exclaims.

Trixie gasps. “I love Candyland!”

And just like that, it’s settled. The four of you settle around the coffee table for the game—you and Jungkook making yourselves comfortable on the cream-colored sectional while the girls sprawl out on the shaggy rug on the floor. The pizza arrives just as Trixie reaches Candy Castle, and Jungkook goes to answer the door while she celebrates her victory. Then, the four of you sit down for dinner.

It’s strange, sitting in Jungkook’s undoubtedly expensive apartment and eating pizza. But even more strange is how okay it all feels—natural, even. You aren’t sure when you became so comfortable in his presence, but you aren’t about to question it. You’re grateful for the lack of awkwardness.

An hour later, the last slice of pizza is finished. You volunteer to do the dishes, and Jungkook clears the table while you take up residence at the sink. You’ve tasked Trixie with gathering up her things so you can depart after you’ve finished in the kitchen, and can hear her giggling off in the distance with Daeun. “Thanks for hosting us today,” you murmur to Jungkook.

He chuckles, waving off your gratitude. “It’s no problem, seriously. I had a good time.”

You smile at him before returning to the dishes. Just as you’re putting away the last plate, the girls run back into the kitchen—Trixie with her backpack in tow.

“Can Daeun come to our house next time?” she asks, and you laugh.

“Sure, jitterbug. You’re welcome to come over whenever you’d like, Daeun.”

And with that, you and Trixie say your final goodbyes. You slip back into your shoes and grab your coats from the closet. Jungkook gives you directions for the easiest route out of the parking garage, and you thank him for what feels like the umpteenth time.

You’re barely listening to your daughter’s ramblings as you climb into the driver’s seat and turn on the ignition. All you can think about is Jungkook and this strange, newfound warmth that stirs in your belly whenever he seeps into your thoughts.

///

“You wiped that part of the counter already.”

Trixie’s voice barely registers in your mind, but the washcloth in your hand slows nonetheless. It’s a beautiful Saturday morning with hardly a cloud in the sky, and Jungkook and Daeun are due to arrive any minute. You’ve been cleaning for the past hour, and even though you know you’ve already gone through the kitchen, you can’t help yourself. This is the first time Jungkook will be seeing your humble abode, and you—ostensibly—want to impress.

“Bug, can you set the table?”

Trixie sighs dramatically, but complies nonetheless. Grabbing four plates, she places them down carefully before returning for four glasses. You join her at the table with a pitcher of freshly squeezed orange juice, straightening out one of the striped blue placemats as you set it down beside the vase of flowers that serves as a centerpiece.

You’ve just started frying bacon when the doorbell rings. “Got it!” Trixie calls, darting to the door, and you listen as she enthusiastically greets your guests. A few seconds later, Jungkook rounds the corner with both girls, decked out in jeans and a gray cable-knit sweather and carrying a plain white cardboard box in his hands.

Curiously, you tilt your head. “Mysterious box you’ve got there.”

He laughs. “Hello to you too.” Then he puts the box down and pops open the lid. “I brought my favorite bagels—I hope that’s okay. Didn’t want to show up empty-handed.”

You smile at him. “Of course it’s okay. I was just planning on making some toast, but bagels are way be…” You trail off as the bagels in question come into your view.

Perfectly golden, with a dusting of cinnamon sugar and streusel crumbles on top. You’d recognize them anywhere.

“{Name}?” Jungkook sounds concerned. “Are you all right?”

You blink and shake your head, mind still whirring. “Are these from that coffee shop downtown? Bean There, Done That?”

Jungkook nods. “Yeah, have you been?”

You nod. “This… this might sound crazy and I might be way off base. But do you stop there every morning for a bagel?”

Jungkook blinks. Then he blinks again, his lips parting wordlessly. A beat passes, and then another. “Wait,” he finally manages, his voice a croak. “Hang on. Is it… I mean, it can’t be… can it?”

You reach into the drawer next to the stovetop and pull out a wad of pen-stained napkins. “Did you leave me these?”

For a few seconds, it seems like Jungkook can only gape at you. “Holy shit,” he finally breathes, before slapping a hand to his mouth with wide eyes and glancing around to make sure the girls aren’t within earshot. “I was leaving you notes this whole time?”

You can only laugh in disbelief. “You were the one taking my cinnamon streusel bagels?”

“Hey, I wouldn’t have taken them if you’d gotten there earlier,” he teases. Chuckling, he picks up a napkin note and uncrumples it, scanning across the text. “Damn. Small world, huh?”

“The smallest,” you agree, mind reeling from this new development. Still chuckling, Jungkook steps past you to get to the stove, and you belatedly remember that the bacon is still sizzling in the pan as he picks up your tongs and carefully flips each strip.

“I kept your notes too,” he says after a moment. “I shoved both of them in my glovebox.”

You huff. “Both. Yeah, okay, you beat me to the last bagel way more than I beat you. You don’t have to rub it in, Jungkook.”

“Oh, come on.” He grins, toothy and bright, and you’re momentarily distracted by the endearing prominence of his teeth. “I think I have to rub it in a little.”

“Hmph. As long as it’s only a little,” you concede as you join him at the stove with another pan and begin scrambling eggs. Together, the two of you finish making breakfast, piling eggs onto one plate and bacon on another. You grab the bowl of fruit salad you’d prepared last night out of the fridge, and Jungkook grabs the box of bagels and calls for Daeun and Trixie to come eat. Then, he surprises you by sitting beside you, leaving the girls to sit next to each other on the opposite side of the table.

Breakfast is a relaxed affair—even if Taco keeps trying to jump up on the table to steal some bacon. You’ve eaten several meals with Jungkook and Daeun since that first dinner—usually at Jungkook’s apartment, but also once at the food court in your local natural history museum, where you took the girls to see the ocean exhibit’s penguin display. Since this is the final weekend before their group project is due on Monday, you’ve promised to take them to the zoo to see real, live penguins and complete the last of their research. Both girls already have their backpacks packed and ready to go, and you task Jungkook with checking to make sure they have all their notes while you clean up in the kitchen.

Twenty minutes later, you’re on your way to the zoo. Jungkook has volunteered to drive, and you can’t help but gape a little as he unlocks his sleek black Mercedes-Benz and opens up the passenger door to reveal cream-colored leather seats and shiny silver hardware. “Wow,” you remark, catching his eye as he walks around to the driver’s side. “This is like the Batmobile or something.”

“Hardly,” he says with a laugh. “I wish I had rocket boosters and ejection seats. That’d be cool as hell.”

“Daddy!” Daeun gasps, scandalized. “That’s a bad word!”

Jungkook has the decency to look properly abashed. “I’ll put a dollar in the swear jar when we get home,” he promises before pretending to zip his mouth shut and throw away the key. Satisfied, Daeun clambers into the backseat with Trixie on her heels, and Jungkook shoots you a conspiratorial little wink as he takes his own seat and starts up the engine.

The drive to the zoo takes only about fifteen minutes. It’s already beginning to get crowded by the time you get there, but Jungkook still manages to find parking with little difficulty. Together, the two of you usher your daughters out of the car, reminding them not to run too far ahead when they immediately make a beeline for the entrance.

After a short wait in line to buy tickets, you finally make your way past the lion statues flanking the front gate. The wide concrete pathway leads to an open plaza where people are milling about—some looking at the directory located at the far end while others rely on the colorful signpost in the center, reading through the various directional arrows before heading off to their destination. Along the edges of the plaza are a multitude of stalls—selling everything from footlong hot dogs to stuffed animals to cotton candy. There’s a couple of artists painting faces, too, and Daeun only has to give Jungkook one wide-eyed, pleading look before he caves and pulls out his wallet. Aghast, you try to protest, but he waves you off and sends them both off with some cash in hand.

“Consider it payment for all the bagels I’ve deprived you of,” he says, and you relent with a laugh.

Slowly, the two of you make your way around the plaza, making sure to keep a watchful eye on the girls at all times. Half an hour later, Trixie and Daeun come skipping back your way, their faces bright with colorful paint. Daeun has an intricate pink and blue butterfly, while Trixie has opted for the distinctive orange and black stripes of a tiger.

“Do you like it?” she asks, and you nod, bopping her fondly on her painted black nose.

“I don’t just like it, jitterbug. I love it.”

Pleased, she rejoins Daeun, who has successfully diverted Jungkook to the cotton candy stand. Following after her, you hand the vendor your credit card to pay for both snacks before Jungkook can get a word in edgewise. Reluctantly, he tucks his wallet away, laughing when you stick your tongue out at him.

Once the girls have had their fill of the main plaza, the four of you head off in the direction of the penguin exhibit, stopping to look at the zebras and giraffes along the way. Photographs are snapped, and Trixie even flags down a nearby couple and asks them to take a photo of all four of you together. The girls jostle into place in front of the giraffe enclosure, and you suddenly find yourself standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Jungkook, the warmth of his body radiating off of him like the sun in the sky. Your resulting smile feels forced—especially when the girl starts taking multiple photos from different angles—but gradually relaxes. And now, even as you enter the penguin exhibit, you can’t stop sneaking glances at the last photo.

Because in it, you and Jungkook look like couple. You’re standing close enough that anyone who saw it would construe it as a family photo, the two of you beaming with your giggling daughters in front of you, their arms draped over each other’s shoulders.

Swallowing, you let your phone screen go dark and tuck it back into your pocket. You’re coming up on the penguin exhibit now, and the girls can barely contain their excitement as they run ahead to the outermost edge of the enclosure where a massive glass wall allows for a clear view of the penguins swimming about underwater.

“They’re so fast!” Trixie exclaims. She stops at one of the numerous placards lining the glass wall, her little face scrunching as she slowly reads it out loud to Daeun. “It says here some can swim over twenty miles an hour!”

As the girls pull out their notebooks and begin taking notes, you and Jungkook find an unoccupied bench near a rocky outcrop occupied by several bronze penguin statues. “Look,” Jungkook says, patting one of the upright penguins. “You can see how many people have rubbed this little guy’s head. It’s turned gold.”

“Must be good luck,” you remark, running a finger along the golden beak of another penguin. “Or maybe I should make a wish? I don’t really know what this situation calls for.”

“I’m pretty sure you make wishes when you throw a coin into a fountain,” your companion replies, brushing a dark strand of hair off his forehead. “Actually, I think I saw a fountain back there. Should we check it out later?”

“I don’t think I have any change on me,” you reply, peeking into your purse to make sure. “Seriously, who even carries coins anymore?”

“Not me,” Jungkook agrees. “I do usually have at least a little cash on me, though. It’s nice to have sometimes.”

“Mm, yeah. You never know when you’ll need it.”

Just then, Trixie and Daeun run up, gesturing toward the brown building at the very back of the enclosure. “There’s a penguin movie playing over there!” Daeun says. “Can we go see it?”

“Sure,” Jungkook says. “How long is it?”

“I think it runs every twenty minutes,” you reply when Daeun frowns and scratches her head. “Come on. If I’m remembering correctly, we should be able to see more penguins inside too.”

Daeun and Trixie beam. “Cool!” they exclaim in unison, before galloping off and leaving you and Jungkook to follow after them as quickly as you can manage without breaking into a run yourselves.

Your memory proves correct, as you enter the brown building and immediately see that the walls inside are glass as well. A penguin dives off of a rocky island and into the clear blue water, and you watch as it goes all the way to the bottom of the pool before coming back up for air.

After doing a lap of the building, Daeun and Trixie decide to go into the theater to see the fifteen-minute short film. Meanwhile, you and Jungkook find a quiet little alcove near the entrance, chatting softly while watching the penguins behind the glass on the opposite wall.

“I haven’t been to the zoo in ages,” Jungkook admits. “Dae’s mom used to always take her, though. They always came back with a stuffed animal from the gift shop—you might’ve seen them in Daeun’s room, actually. She loves them.”

You nod. “I remember, yeah. It’s quite an impressive collection.” Then you hesitate, gnawing on your bottom lip as you consider your next words and debate whether you’re being too nosy. “Daeun’s mom… can I ask what happened between you?” You pause, then quickly speak again. “And feel free to say no, obviously! You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. I’m probably just poking my nose where it doesn’t belong.”

Jungkook smiles at you, but there’s a faraway quality to his gaze that wasn’t there before. “Nah, it’s okay. There’s really not much to tell, if I’m honest. Evelyn and I, we started dating when we were nineteen. We got married at twenty-three, had Daeun a couple years later, and then one day we realized that we’d become entirely different people and that we weren’t really in love anymore.”

“Oh.” You aren’t sure what else to say. “I-I’m sorry to hear that.”

He shrugs and sighs, tilting his head back to look up at the ceiling. “No need to be sorry; it was a mutual thing. Totally amicable. We’re still friends, and we’re a pretty kickass co-parenting team too.”

The conversation continues, and you find out that Evelyn’s job took her overseas last year. According to Jungkook, she currently lives with her new boyfriend, who’s a little pretentious but completely harmless. And despite the six-hour time difference, Evelyn still finds the time to FaceTime Jungkook and Daeun every Sunday afternoon. Because of those calls, she’s apparently heard all about you, too—you’re her favorite teacher, remember? he’d said with a laugh.

“What about you, then?” Jungkook glances over at you inquiringly, his eyebrows raised. “Is it my turn to pry?”

You can tell from the melodious lilt in his tone that he’s teasing. “My story’s far less interesting than yours,” you answer, fiddling with a stray thread on your jacket sleeve. “I don’t have an ex-partner or anything like that. I’ve just always wanted to be a mother, so one day I decided that I was going to do it. I used a donor, got pregnant, and here we are.”

Jungkook takes this in slowly, nodding. “Do you… I mean, do you know who your donor is? Have you met him?”

You shake your head. “No, it was an anonymous thing. I got a profile and some information about his appearance and hobbies and stuff, but not much beyond that.”

“I—” Jungkook begins, before trailing off. “I’m sorry. I’m asking too many questions. I don’t know a whole lot about the sperm donor thing, but I’m glad it worked out for you. Trixie’s an amazing kid.”

“She is,” you murmur. “I love her more than anything.”

“And you’re an amazing mom.” Jungkook’s voice grows softer, and when you turn to look at him, he seems closer than he was before. “I don’t know how you manage it all, teaching and parenting. But you do, and it’s incredible. You’re incredible.”

You aren’t sure who leans in first. All you know is that one moment, you’re staring into Jungkook’s earnest brown eyes, and then in the next, you’re kissing him.

It starts soft. Cautious, even. His lips press against yours gently, once, before he pulls back for a breath. You can feel him exhale, the warmth fanning your cheeks. And then you pull him back in by his collar, fisting one hand in the knit material and finding the soft hair at his nape with the other.

Time slows to a standstill. Jungkook groans against your lips, and you feel the way it rumbles through his chest, the sensation sinking into your skin and settling straight in your core. His hands find your hips, and you wind both arms around his neck to pull him closer.

And then, just as suddenly as it had stopped, time starts ticking again. Reality crashes down around you in the form of familiar, boisterous voices rapidly heading your way. You and Jungkook only barely manage to untangle yourselves before Trixie and Daeun round the corner of the alcove, chattering excitedly about all the new penguin facts they’ve learned.

“Can we go to the petting zoo next?” Trixie asks, seemingly oblivious to your lingering embarrassment at nearly being caught.

Awkwardly, you clear your throat. At your side, Jungkook is faring no better, shuffling his feet and refusing to make eye contact. “Yeah, sure, bug,” you finally manage when you find your voice again. “Lead the way.”

///

Monday dawns cloudy and gray. The weather app on your phone promises thunderstorms later in the afternoon, but that isn’t enough to dampen your mood one bit. Instead, you thumb back over to your messages, your heart skipping a beat when you see the text still sitting at the very top.

[6:54am] Jungkook Jeon: Make sure to stop by bean there, done that before school. Left you a surprise ;)

Taking a deep breath, you type out a response:

[6:56am] You: I’m a little scared. Should I be scared?

His answer comes in immediately. Nah. It’s a good surprise, I promise.

[6:58am] You: Sure it is… 🤨

Biting back a grin, you tuck your phone into your bag and head toward the front door of your apartment, nearly tripping over Taco along the way, who has chosen that moment to start slinking between your legs.

“Really, Taco?” you ask the unperturbed calico cat at your feet. “What if I fell and cracked my head open? Who would feed you then, huh?”

As usual, Taco merely gives you an unimpressed look before flicking her tail and wandering off. Sighing, you call for Trixie to hurry up before turning to check your appearance in the mirror leaning against the wall of the entryway. It’s a large, vintage piece—a gold-framed, flea market find that you treasure dearly and swear makes you look good no matter how awful you might feel.

Satisfied, you hike your bag higher on your shoulder and smooth down the lapels of your coat. Trixie rounds the corner and gives herself a quick once-over too, and you give her a thumbs-up. “Ready, bug?”

“Yup!” she replies, tightening her grip on her and Daeun’s project—a carefully constructed shoebox diorama that shows a group of penguins in their natural icy habitat.

“Let’s go, then.” Opening the front door, you let her through before locking it up behind you. Together, you head out to the car, and Trixie ensures that her diorama is completely secured in the seat beside her while you check your mirrors and turn on the ignition.

The drive to Bean There, Done That! takes only about ten minutes. Jin waves cheerily when he spots you walking up to the counter, but his face positively lights up when he sees Trixie is with you. He absolutely adores your daughter—Trixie loves him too—and on the occasional instance you’ve had to call on him to babysit, the two of them always end up stuffed with food on the couch and giggling over bad puns.

“What can I get you, ma’am?” Jin asks, directing the question at Trixie, who beams at him before turning to look at you with pleading eyes.

“Can I have a double chocolate cookie?”

“That… actually sounds really good,” you admit. “Make that two. And Jin, did someone leave something here for me earlier?”

Jin grins. “Thought you’d never ask. This here is from one Mr. Jungkook Jeon.” Reaching beneath the counter, he pulls out a box and watches as you open the lid to reveal half a dozen cinnamon streusel bagels with a neatly folded napkin on top. Unfolding it, you can only laugh at the words written on it:

Hope you have a mug-nificient day!

“Just so you know, he stole that line from me,” Jin says with a sniff. “I’m not letting him take the credit.”

“Duly noted,” you tell him, trying and failing to hide your smile as you look down at the note again. After a couple beats, Jin clears his throat, and you glance up to see that he’s grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

“Sooo,” he begins slowly, dragging out the single syllable, “I imagine you want a fresh napkin and a pen, unless… are you going to see Mr. Jungkook Jeon at some point?”

You shrug, feigning nonchalance as best you can. “Trixie was paired with his daughter for a school project, so we’ve been meeting up for the past few weeks so they can work on it. Now that that’s over with… I don’t really know. We’re both pretty busy.”

Jin scoffs. “That’s a lame excuse, especially since he’s clearly flirting with you. And—”

Unfortunately, Trixie interrupts before he can finish his sentence, skipping back over from where she had been examining the pastry display cases along the wall. “Can I have a lemon bar?”

You fix her with a stern look. “You already asked for the double chocolate cookie, remember? The lemon bars can wait until next time.” Then you turn back to Jin, reaching into your bag for your wallet. “We should probably get to school, anyhow. What do I owe you?”

“Not a thing,” he replies, handing over a paper bag with your cookies and a bottle of apple juice. “It’s already been taken care of.”

From the wink he sends your way, you know that it must have been Jungkook who doled out the extra cash for your breakfast. “Thanks, Jin,” you reply, handing Trixie the cookies and juice before accepting the cup of coffee he hands over. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Pleasure doing business with ya,” is his response. Trixie waves goodbye, and together, the two of you head back out to the car. It’s started drizzling since you arrived, and you thank your lucky stars that you’d managed to snag a parking spot right up front.

Your daughter seems to be deep in thought as you help her buckle her seatbelt, her lips pursed in concentration. Then, out of nowhere, she asks:

“Do you like Mr. Jeon?”

You nearly choke. “W-what?”

“Mr. Jeon,” she repeats patiently, and you’re thankful that she’s not looking at you—instead, she’s focused on the raindrops splashing against the window and racing each other down the glass. “You spent a bunch of time with him when Daeun and I were doing school stuff. What’d you do?”

“Adult stuff,” you reply, before cursing inwardly at the potential implication behind your words. “Mostly, I spent my time grading homework. And he had some things to do for work, too.”

Trixie hums, apparently satisfied with this answer. “He’s nice,” she declares. “He buys us food and he has a cool house.”

“Sure,” you agree. “He’s a very nice man.”

And with that settled, you finish buckling her in her seat. Shutting the back door, you suck in a deep, calming breath before circling around to the driver’s side and setting off on the familiar route to Hybe Academy.

///

“... Miss {L/N}, are you listening?”

You blink and sit up a little straighter in your chair. “Yes, of course. Please go on.” Hastily, you scribble down a few random words, hoping that will placate the parent sitting across from you. It’s parent-teacher conference week—and you’re beyond grateful that it’s Friday night as Mrs. Greene rambles on and on about how the school isn’t doing enough for her precious baby boy. She’s talking about how the school day should be extended now—or at least how teachers should watch after the children whose parents can’t pick them up right at three-thirty. I don’t understand why it’s so difficult to understand. I mean, my husband is a very busy man, and I have my own business to run. I can’t be expected to drop everything in the middle of a client meeting to come pick Derrick up…

It takes everything in you not to snap at her. You know for a fact that her “business” is selling bejeweled keychains on Etsy—and that they’re incredibly poorly made, if the reviews are anything to go by. Instead, you bite your tongue—hard enough to taste metal—and remind her that the school’s operating hours are not for you to decide.

After what feels like an eternity, the clock strikes seven, marking the end of her reserved time block. Standing up, you shake her hand and wish her a pleasant evening before opening your planner and checking to see if you have any more meetings. Your parents have Trixie for the night and there’s a bottle of wine on your kitchen counter calling your name, and you cannot wait to get home and relax in the bath with a glass. Maybe, you think, I’ll even do a face mask.

The final name written in your planner stops you in your tracks. You haven’t seen him in over a week—not since that Monday when he left you half a dozen bagels at the coffee shop. The girls had insisted on meeting up that evening to celebrate turning their project in, so you’d all gone to a popular taco joint.

And then there’s a knock on your door, the three raps pulling you right out of your musings.

Silhouetted there in the doorframe is Jungkook Jeon, decked out in a polished charcoal suit and wearing a smile that makes your insides lurch dangerously in your chest. His dark hair is parted on the side, and you catch the slightest glimpse of his brow piercing glinting behind the hair that’s loose across his forehead. “Hi,” he says, his voice low, and you have to remind yourself that it’s impolite to stare as you find your voice.

“Hi yourself.”

He grins, baring the adorably prominent front teeth that you hate to admit you’ve grown rather fond of. “You look like you weren’t expecting me.”

“Oh, no. I just wasn’t expecting you on time,” you retort, gesturing to the plastic chair sitting across from your desk. “Your track record is questionable, at best.”

Jungkook grimaces. “Yeah, sorry about that. I made sure to leave plenty early this time, just in case I ran into traffic. Or if Bobby decided to corner me in the elevator again—that guy really doesn’t know when to shut up.” He pauses. “Wait, I told you about him, right? Works on the development team, owns one singular tie? Balding but tries to hide it with a bad combover?”

“That rings a bell,” you reply. “The tie is red and Christmas-themed, right?”

“Sure is.” Jungkook chuckles. “I thought they might’ve been polka dots the first time I met him, but nope. Christmas ornaments, even in the middle of July.”

You laugh. “Odd fashion choice.”

“Seriously. Don’t even get me started on the rest of his clothes,” Jungkook says, shaking his head. “Here, let’s change the subject. Have you eaten yet?”

You gesture around your classroom, artificially lit with fluorescent light even as the sun begins to dip closer to the horizon. “Nope. I mean, I had about twenty minutes between the end of the school day and the start of my first meeting, so I scarfed down an apple in the break room. But that was hours ago.”

“Perfect.” At your look of disbelief, he chortles and quickly amends his phrasing. “Sorry, I just mean that I’ve got you covered. Here, look.” And he begins pulling things out of a paper bag that you hadn’t noticed him carrying before. Crackers, sliced baguette, an assortment of cured meats and cheeses, grapes. He produces a bottle of wine next, and you very nearly start clapping.

The last thing he pulls out is a single red rose, his smile soft and warm and dizzyingly affectionate as he presents it to you. “I—wow.” You aren’t sure what to say. “Thank you. I… I feel like I should’ve prepared something. Stolen an apple for you from the teacher’s lounge, at least.”

Jungkook snorts. “Well, here’s something you can help me out with. I don’t actually have glasses for the wine. Totally spaced and forgot that we’d need them. Any ideas?”

You’re on your feet before he can even finish asking. “I teach elementary schoolers, Mr. Jeon. I always have cups.”

Making your way to the cabinet by the window, you grab a box of little paper cups and pull out two. Jungkook accepts them when you hand them over, and you watch as he unscrews the cap on the wine bottle before pouring out two generous helpings. Together, you lay out the food he’s brought, spreading it across whatever empty space there is on your desk. “Cheers,” Jungkook says once you’ve both taken your seats again, raising his paper cup to tap against yours.

“Cheers.”

For a moment, there is silence as you both take a drink. Then Jungkook speaks, glancing up at you as he carefully begins crafting himself a mini salami and cheese sandwich. “So, where does Trixie stay while you’re doing all these meetings? Do your parents have her?”

You nod, taking another much-needed sip of wine. “Yeah, my mom picked her up after school. They actually have her until Sunday—my dad’s going to teach her how to fish tomorrow, and then I think they’re going to build a pillow fort.”

Jungkook chuckles around a mouthful of gouda. “I love a good pillow fort. Dae insists on building one at least once a week, and at this point, I’m honestly surprised there isn’t one permanently in her bedroom.”

Grinning, you reach for a cracker and some cheese. “Taco manages to destroy every pillow fort Trixie and I try to make. She either decides it’s a trampoline, or that it’s a good time to start scratching everything she can reach. We can’t win.”

“Sounds like you need better defenses,” Jungkook replies, waggling his eyebrows. “That, or you can come over whenever you need a pillow fort fix. I’m sure Dae and Trixie would create something truly epic together. I mean, that penguin diorama was pretty fucking cool, wasn’t it?”

“Very fucking cool,” you agree, and both of you burst into laughter.

Deep blue twilight settles outside as the two of you continue chatting over your makeshift meal. The cheese begins to dwindle, only a few lonely grapes remain on their stems, and when you go to top of your wine, you realize there’s less than a quarter of the bottle left.

“Wow, we really put a dent in this thing,” you remark, holding it out for Jungkook to see. “And it’s already dark out. The time kind of got away from us, huh?”

“You won’t catch me complaining,” Jungkook replies, tipping the last of his drink into his mouth. “I’m enjoying spending time with you.”

You can’t help but smile at his earnest honesty. “Me too.”

There’s a beat of silence, and then you rise from your seat. At the same time, Jungkook stands up from his chair on the other side of the desk, making his way around to meet you halfway. And then his mouth is on yours, warm and firm in a way that makes your heart do a backflip before plunking straight into your churning stomach.

Jungkook’s hands find your hips, palming along the flowy material of your dress before finding a resting place just above the soft curve of your rear. Your fingers delve into the soft hair at his nape to tug him closer, and he groans against your lips when your nails rake across his scalp. Slowly, he begins trailing kisses from the line of your jaw down to the column of your neck, pausing to lavish attention on any spots that make you gasp or squirm in his grasp.

The growing hardness against your lower belly is growing more and more evident with each passing second. Deliberately, you slide one hand down his chest, admiring the toned ridges of his abdomen that you can feel through his white shirt, before making your way down past his silver belt buckle. Jungkook inhales sharply when you cup his hardening cock through the charcoal material of his slacks, and, emboldened, you thumb across the head and relish in his resulting groan.

Any caution you may have had is thrown to the wind. Adjusting your grip, you shiver when you realize that he’s now fully hard beneath your fingertips, his erection thick and hot through the fabric. You try and visualize what it looks like underneath it all—the color of the flared head, the veins that run along it, the curve of the shaft, if there is one. And then you realize that you don’t have to imagine—you can look. You can rip his clothes off and explore every inch of his body in the way you’ve been itching to since you first kissed at the zoo last week. Your hands scrabble for his belt buckle, fumbling with the silver prong embedded in its notch.

“W-wait.” Jungkook’s hand lands over yours, and you note the breathlessness in his voice with satisfaction. “I… this is probably cheesy, but this isn’t how I pictured this happening. Not that I don’t like what’s happening, but I just… I’d like to take you out first. On a proper date, I mean. Without our girls in the next room, or down the hall, or in the museum playplace wreaking havoc.”

“That does sound nice,” you admit. “Actually, I’d really enjoy that. I haven’t been on a proper date in years.”

“Let’s do it, then,” Jungkook says. “My babysitter’s already been paid to watch Daeun until midnight, and your parents have Trixie. This is kinda perfect.”

You can’t help it—you drag your thumb across the head of his still-hard cock again and revel in the way his breath hitches just a little bit in his throat. “Midnight?” you query with an innocent tilt of your head. “Were you expecting something to happen tonight?”

“Hoping,” he replies with a cheeky grin. “And wait, let me ask you out properly. It just wouldn’t feel right otherwise.”

Confused, you let him stand from his seat and slip around you to retrieve the paper bag on the ground. Understanding dawns when he reaches inside and grabs a napkin, and you watch on in amusement as he takes a pen from the cup on your desk and begins writing. And after a few seconds, he wordlessly presents this to you:

Drinks? Dinner? Maybe dessert? ;)

And you can only laugh. “Game on, mister.”

#jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook scenarios #bts #bts smut #bts scenarios #jungkook fluff #bts fluff #bts fanfic #bts fic #jeon jungkook #kpop scenarios #single parent au #teacher au #single parent!au #teacher!au #lia writes

993 notes · View notes

sweetestofchaos · 7 months

Text

➵ Parings: Teacher!Jungkook x OC!Netta ➵ Genre/Trope: Fluff, Smut, Friends to Lovers, Co-Worker AU, Teacher AU ➵ Rating: 18+ ➵ Summary: The new English teacher has a big fat crush on the PE teacher Jeon Jungkook and everyone know about it...including Jungkook, himself. ➵ Word Count: 6.1k ➵ Warnings: Kissing, Thigh Riding, Ass Smacking, Food Play, Oral (fem receiving), Fingering, Mentions of Periods

𝘮.𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵 ▵ 𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘨 ▵ 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯

a/n: 10 months later and I’m finished!! I have to thank @dawnagustd and @vvh0adie for helping me ease into the smut from when I first started writing this bad boy. I was starting at the screen for hours just looking dumb. Thank you @hobeemin for being my beta, your comments made me giggle!! Banner made by the wonderful @floralkive. MDNI/Support divider made by @benkeibear

It was a known fact that Little Flower Academy was one of the few elementary schools that didn’t have a dating ban for its employees. The headmaster wasn’t stupid; he knew that if you worked around people for days at a time, crushes and even love were bound to happen. Netta was the kind of woman who never mixed business with pleasure, but when Jeon Jungkook came into her world, that idea was washed away like the chalk lines at recess. Netta had a huge crush on Mr. Jeon, the cute Health and PE teacher. She wasn’t sure what it was about the man that made her heart pound so harshly. With just a single glance or if he smiled, Netta swore there were yellow jackets in her stomach, or maybe it was just pizza sticks she ate from the cafeteria.

The first time Jungkook spoke to Netta, she couldn’t stop staring at the mole on the bridge of his nose; it was cute. She was so lost just staring at it that she completely missed the question that had been asked. It wasn’t until Jungkook laughed and awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck that Netta snapped out of whatever trance she had been in. She apologized for zoning out, and Jungkook shook his head, his dark hair flying around his ears before he repeated his question. He wanted to know how she liked the school, and if she had any issues, she was more than welcome to come to him. Issues? There was only one that Netta could think of, and it was standing in front of her.

The two quickly became the topic around the water cooler of the academy. Teachers and parents alike all whispered about how good they looked together, the dream team they were called to their faces, and behind their backs, they were the perfect couple. Netta heard the rumors and wasn’t sure if Jungkook had too. If he had, he never let on about it. Jungkook was kind and very funny in the weirdest of ways. He was a giant nerd, to be honest, and Netta was thankful that she could see that side of him as his friend. That’s how she ended up here, now. All alone in Jungkook’s home, helping him grade papers while eating Thai take away on a Friday night.

Jungkook has his bluetooth speaker playing music at a lower volume, sitting on the couch with papers spread out all around him. Netta is sitting on top of a pillow on the floor with her legs folded underneath her, twirling a set of red chopsticks between her fingers. She glances at Jungkook when he sighs and pushes his hair from his face for the nth time that night. Jeez, can he look any hotter? A familiar beat catches Netta’s ear, and she bites her lip as Jamie Fox’s voice fills the air.

You know what, I'm ma make it do what it do baby,

I'm ma make it do what it do baby

Netta drops her chopsticks, and they fall to the floor, making Jungkook look away from the papers in front of him. “You good?”

“Huh?” Netta stares at Jungkook and tries to ignore the sexual words spilling from the speakers. Does Jungkook not hear what’s playing? “Y-yeah, I’m good. Just…yeah.” Netta turns her attention to the papers in front of her and squints at the black text. What does this even mean? It’s like she’s reading a different language all of a sudden.

“How many papers have you gone through?” Jungkook’s voice cuts through Netta’s foggy mind, and she can feel heat warm her face. Honestly? She hasn’t graded much; it’s kind of hard to focus when Jungkook’s scent is all around her; plus, the oversized smokey green denim shirt isn’t doing anything for her well being either. How can he wear something so simple and look so hot? It’s not even fair at this point in life. “Net?” Jungkook tilts his head to the side, and Netta quickly pulls herself together, ducking her head down as she bites her lower lip.

“I didn’t get much done.” Netta sees the frown pulling at Jungkook’s lips and swallows. “S-sorry Kookie.” Her voice is soft as she spots the chopsticks on the floor by her leg. “I-I need new chopsticks!” Netta jumps to her feet, and Jungkook’s jaw clenches.

“Sit down, Ms. Robbins!”

One second, Netta is standing, and the next, she is sitting on the edge of the love seat, the fallen chopsticks clutched tightly in her fist, staring at Jungkook with wide eyes. Jungkook sighs and takes his reading glasses off, setting them on the table before he sits up and runs his hand through his hair…five times, not that Netta is counting or anything. Jungkook tucks his hair behind his ears and inhales with a smack of his lips. He stares at the unmarked papers on the table before he turns his gaze to Netta, who refuses to meet his eyes.

Jungkook’s lips press into a line as his eyes flicker up to the ceiling, licking his lips as he tries to gather his thoughts together. He sniffles once and runs a hand through his hair once again, his bangs falling right back in place, framing his face. Netta risks a glance Jungkook’s way, and her breath catches in her throat as their eyes meet. Jungkook raises an eyebrow and presses his tongue against his cheek while Netta looks away.

“Netta?” Jungkook calls her name softly, speaking just above a whisper as if anything louder would spook her.

“Y-yes?” Netta squeaks out, and she clears her throat. “Yes?”

Those rumors about Netta having a crush on him may be true after all. Keeping that thought in mind, Jungkook nods his head and sighs. Jungkook smiles, his lip ring catching the light and forcing Netta to focus on his lips. “Is there something you want to tell me?”

“Huh? Tell you…what?” Netta fiddles with the bracelet on her wrist and starts to bounce her left leg as she tries to figure out Jungkook’s question.

He cracks a sly smile, “The rumors are true, huh?” He swipes through his hair once more, shaking his locks before he sits back in his chair. Netta has no thoughts, his arms are folded, and his legs spread. Her mind is empty as she stares at Jungkook’s massive thighs. Were they always so thick and inviting? Netta’s thighs press together subconsciously, and she shifts in her seat. Seeing her movement, Jungkook strikes. He uncrosses his arms and holds his hand out to Netta. “Come here, Netta.” Jungkook’s voice is magnetic, pulling Netta from her seat to stand between his legs.

Jungkook tilts his head back to get a better look at Netta’s face, “What’s going through that pretty head of yours, Ms. Robbins?” Jungkook slowly raises his arm and places a hand on Netta’s waist, keeping his eyes locked on her face. He doesn’t want to miss any signs of discomfort. “Humm?” Jungkook’s thumb slips under the hem of Netta’s shirt, and he forces himself not to look away from her face even though he wants to see the goosebumps that he feels on her bare skin. Wrapping his other hand around Netta’s wrist, Jungkook pulls her closer, and reaches out, her arms caging Jungkook on either side of the couch as she stops herself from falling on top of him.

“J-Jungkook!” Netta gasps, and Jungkook’s smile is wicked as he gazes at her.

“I’m not reading the room wrong, am I?” Jungkook questions as the rest of his hand slips underneath Netta’s shirt.

Netta opens her mouth, and no sound comes out. She bites her lip and closes her eyes, enjoying the feeling of Jungkook’s warm palm pressed against her side so softly. His hands are large, so very large, and his fingertips are calloused. Netta lets herself wonder how they would feel against more of her skin. Swallowing around the lump in her throat, Netta gathers whatever resolve she has and lowers herself onto Jungkook’s lap, her knees on either side of his left thigh.

Jungkook mutters something under his breath, and before Netta can question him, Jungkook cups the back of Netta’s neck and pulls her into a feverish kiss. Their lips mold together, their tongues taste each other, and Netta’s full weight falls into Jungkook’s lap, her legs refusing to support her any longer. Jungkook groans into the kiss, feeling the pleasurable weight settle sweetly on his upper thigh. The heat from between Netta’s legs seeps into the fabric of his jeans, and Jungkook squeezes Netta’s hip tightly. His lungs burn, but he fights the urge to breathe; he doesn’t want to part from such sweet lips. Jungkook never knew that peanut pad thai was so delicious.

Netta slides her hands from the back of the couch and tangles her fingers into Jungkook’s hair. The strands are silky soft, and when she accidentally tugs, Jungkook moans into her mouth. Netta pulls away from the kiss, a thin strand of saliva connects their lips, and she pushes at Jungkook’s chest as he chases her lips.

“W-Wait…Jungk-kook.”

Jungkook hums and licks his lips as he inhales deeply. His heart is beating rapidly under Netta’s fingers as the rise and fall of his chest starts to slow. Jungkook’s eyes are wide and alert as he stares at Netta concerned. He cups her cheek in his hand and swipes the spit from her bottom with the pad of his thumb.

“Are you okay? D-Do you want to stop?”

“God, no!” Netta shakes her head, and Jungkook smiles, all bunny teeth and scrunched up nose.

“What’s wrong?” Jungkook whispers as he bumps his nose against Netta’s, trying to kiss her lips again.

Netta firmly pushes at Jungkook’s chest and puts space between their bodies, “I don’t want to do this on your couch…we could ruin the paperwork.”

Jungkook glances over Netta’s shoulder at the piles of ungraded tests and the rainbow of markers scattered on the table and floor. Jungkook’s tongue darts out to play with his lip ring as he thinks over Netta’s words. His hands slowly trail to Netta’s buttocks, and his fingers tap out a random beat that matches the current song playing from the speakers.

“My bedroom is a mess,” Jungkook pouts, and Netta giggles as she plays with the necklace hanging at Jungkook’s throat.

“Jungkook, we work with a bunch of children. I doubt your room is any worse than theirs.”

Jungkook narrows his eyes and gives Netta’s butt a firm slap, making her yelp and jump in surprise.

“I don’t think I like your tone, Ms. Robbins.” Jungkook leans forward and nips at Netta’s jaw before he licks up the length of her neck to her ear. “Are you a messy girl? Is that why you won’t mind my room? Just gonna make it messier for me, yeah?”

Jungkook’s words go right to Netta’s core and settle so deep that she can feel her walls clench around nothing. Empty. She suddenly is so self-aware of how long it has been since she last had sex with someone. Netta bites her lower lip, and a shiver crawls down her spine as Jungkook ghosts a gentle path of kisses from her ear to the corner of her lips.

“No, no, Ms. Robbins,” Jungkook easily pulls Netta’s bottom lip from between her teeth and soothes the tender flesh with his own lips. He licks at the bitten skin and sucks Netta’s lip into his mouth, his hands pressing firmly against Netta’s butt and she moans. Her hips start to move on their own, back and forth, over the meaty length of Jungkook’s thigh. Jungkook breaks the kiss and rests his forehead against hers, “That’s it, make a mess for me. I can’t wait to clean it all up.” Jungkook��s tongue is sinful as he licks back into Netta’s mouth. He leaves no space unexplored and slides his hands around a little to sink his fingers into the sides of Netta’s upper thighs.

Jungkook pulls Netta down more onto his thigh, and he flexes, giving her something harder to grind against. A broken moan slips past Netta’s lips, and Jungkook swallows it whole, devours every sound that continues to spill from such sweet lips. Everything feels too hot; Netta’s nerve endings are on fire, and the coil in her stomach is wound too tight. Her panties are wet, embarrassingly so. So wet that Netta knows she has soaked through the fabric of her yellow jeans. She wonders if she has soaked Jungkook’s jeans as well. The blood rushing behind her ears becomes louder than her thoughts; all she can do is feel.

There is a damp patch of skin that Jungkook keeps nipping and licking at; it’s right below her ear, and it’s driving her wild. Jungkook’s body is warm, firm, and strong under her hands. She wants to touch more than just his hands and face. Netta pants, her head lolls backward, and her eyes screwed shut as a warm wave of pleasure washes over her body. She whines, and Jungkook curses under his breath; he can feel the pulse from between Netta’s legs. He can see the wet mark she had made on his jeans and wants more. Jungkook grabs the back of Netta’s neck, mindful of the passion, twists in the way, and crashes their lips together.

“In my room, on my bed, now!” Jungkook pushes Netta away from him, and she scrambles to her feet, her legs wobbly and weak from her first orgasm of the night. “Second door on the left,” Jungkook informs Netta as he stares down at the wet patch on his thigh. He can see that Netta hasn’t moved, and he picks his head up with a raised eyebrow.

“What-” Netta wraps her arms around herself and shifts her weight from foot to foot.

Jungkook slowly stands from the couch and cups Netta’s face once more. He runs his thumb over the seam of her lips and tugs the bottom lightly, “What’s holding you back? We can stop if you would like.”

Netta looks down at her sock clad feet, and Jungkook gently grabs her chin between his thumb and index finger before he tilts Netta’s face upward.

“What is going through that mind of yours?”

Netta’s eyes well with tears, and her lower lip starts to quiver. Jungkook’s eyes widen, and he pulls Netta into a tight embrace as he wraps his arms around her.

“Hey, hey! It’s okay.” Jungkook smushes his cheek to the top of Netta’s head and rubs her back. “We don’t have to do anything; you don’t want to do Netta. We can even pretend that it never happened!”

“I-I’m s-sorry,” Netta cries into Jungkook’s shirt and shakes his head.

“What are you - no! You have nothing, and I mean nothing, to apologize for, Netta. Do you hear me?” Jungkook pulls away and bends a little at the knee to get a better look at Netta’s face. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed you-”

“No! I-I liked it…I-I wanted it.” Netta fists Jungkook’s shirt in her hands, and Jungkook just stares. Why is Netta crying if he didn’t read the room wrong? “We work together, Jungkook.”

“Yes…is that a problem?”

Netta pulls away from Jungkook and wipes at her face, embarrassed to be seen crying like this after she just ruined his jeans.

“I can’t sleep with you, Jungkook.”

Jungkook licks his lips, and his tongue goes right to his lip ring, “Because we work together?” Jungkook questions slowly and carefully as he shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

Netta nods her head and links her fingers together as she speaks, “I just don’t want to make it awkward at work or anything…you know?”

Jungkook inhales and nods his head. Yeah. Okay. He can understand where Netta is coming from. Their work place was full of gossip, and he can understand why that would be off putting.

“I understand, Netta. I guess I misread the room, huh?”

Netta shakes her head, and Jungkook frowns, “I really do like you, Jungkook,” Netta admits, and her face heats up. “I just can’t do a one night stand with a coworker.”

Jungkook repeats Netta’s words, “A one night stand?” Netta looks up and sees the amusement in Jungkook’s eyes. “I don’t think I was clear with my intentions, but that’s my own fault for doing things out of order.”

“What?”

Jungkook pulls his hands from his pockets and grabs Netta’s hands gently between his. “I would like to date you, Ms. Robbins.”

Netta stares at Jungkook, face lost and adorable, making Jungkook giggle as he bops her nose with his finger.

“May I do that, Netta? Can I take you out? On a real date, officially?”

“Officially?” Netta parrots, and Jungkook motions towards the take away boxes. Netta quirks an eyebrow, and Jungkook’s ears heat up. “This was a date?”

“I-I had more planned!” Jungkook defends, and Netta laughs with a shake of her head.

“An official date would be lovely, Mr. Jeon.”

Jungkook’s whole face lights up, and he surges forward, capturing Netta’s lips with his own. The kiss is light and sweet, a clear way to show his true feelings. Netta rests her hands on Jungkook’s chest, and he nibbles at her lower lip, making Netta whine against his mouth.

“I have a spare bedroom…you can spend the night.” Jungkook whispers, and Netta sighs softly. “It has a lock that I don’t have the key to if that makes you feel better.”

Netta giggles and pecks Jungkook’s lips three times before she pulls away, “What would I sleep in?”

“I’m sure we could find something.”

“And if we don’t?”

Jungkook grins and snakes his arms around Netta’s waist, his hand resting low on the small of her back. “The sheets are really soft, perfect to sleep nude.”

Things at work are interesting. Netta and Jungkook are seen carpooling to work often, and they sit next to each other in the break room with their lunches. The Art teacher, Taehyung, is sure that the two of them are dating, while Seokjin, the Headmaster, is certain that they are in the beginning stages of a relationship. He likes to point out that Jungkook is more reserved around Netta; he isn’t touching her or making slick comments. He is very respectful, and Netta is the one that usually touches his hand. Hoseok, the Math teacher, doesn’t really care. He’s just happy that Jungkook has finally stopped talking his ear off about the new English teacher.

Netta sits with Jimin, who teaches Social Studies, and Yoongi, the Science teacher. Everyone, students, teachers, and parents are gathered outside for the teachers versus students kickball game. Namjoon, another PE teacher, is the referee for the match, and Netta giggles along with Jimin as all the moms drool over him. The teams are mixed with different grades from kindergarten to fifth, and the teachers were well rounded. Jungkook, Namjoon, and a handful of other teachers are together on a team and wear matching white mesh tops over their blue t-shirts. The kids wear yellow mesh tops over their shirts, and the school provided them with new cleats so that no one gets injured while playing.

Taehyung and Seokjin are the announcers for the game, and they are dressed for the part, both wearing black slacks with button up shirts and colorful ties. Taehyung has a yellow beret to match the children, and Seokjin, a white one to stand with the teachers. As the last of the parents and staff fill the bleachers, Seokjin announces the teams and Netta smiles. This is going to be a great game. Plus, Jungkook is looking right in those black sweatpants.

“You’re drooling,” Jimin teases as he nudges Netta with his elbow, and Yoongi rolls his eyes.

“Leave her alone, Min. You know she’s down bad for Jeon.”

“S-Shut up!” Netta whines as she clicks her tongue and pulls the hair band from her wrist. Keeping her eyes on the game, Netta pulls her twists into a low ponytail and folds her hand in her lap. “I’m watching everyone.”

“Sure you are,” Jimin giggles and links his arm with Netta’s. “So, when is loverboy taking you out on a date?”

“I never said anything-”

“I overheard Jungkook asking Namjoon.”

Netta rolls her eyes and sighs, “We’re supposed to go out later tonight.”

“Where’s he taking you?”

“Why do you want to know?” Yoongi cuts in, and Jimin glares at him from the other side of Netta. “Their love life has nothing to do with any of us. Leave ‘em alone.”

Netta laughs as Jimin pouts, and Yoongi rolls his eyes. “Thank you, Yoongi. But honestly, it’s not that big of a deal. I don’t know where we are going. Jungkook said he wanted to keep it a surprise.”

“How romantic!” Jimin gushes, and Netta turns her attention to Jungkook, who is now standing at the plate to kick.

“I guess it is…”

The students beat the teachers nine to five, and as their reward, Seokjin was going to host an ice cream party for everyone next Friday during the last class.

“Bye, Mr. Jeon!” A few students shout from their parent’s cars as they drive past, and Jungkook beeps his horn as he starts his engine. Right away, he puts the air on and sighs the moment the cool air hits his hot skin. He’s still sweating from running outside, and his heartbeat is slowly returning to normal. Jungkook pulls the sun visor down and looks at himself in the mirror; his hair is a mess, his face is sweaty, and his eyes are alive and bright. He wipes at his face and pushes his hair back quickly before he flips the sun visor back up and leans back in his seat.

He is waiting for Netta to come out so that he can drop her off at her place. They have their first official date tonight, and Jungkook is determined to have a great time for Netta. Everything is planned out, and now all Jungkook has to do is get himself ready. A few minutes pass before Netta comes out of the school with her friend Jimin by her side. The two are talking about something that Jungkook can’t even begin to imagine, and he unlocks the doors for her.

Jimin is ever the gentleman and opens the passenger door for Netta and shields her head as she lowers herself into the seat. Leaning against the door frame, Jimin looks at Jungkook and narrows his eyes.

“You better treat my bestie right, Jeon. I will kick your tall, muscular ass if you fuck this up!”

Jungkook huffs a laugh and nods his head, “Goodbye, Jimin.”

Jimin kisses Netta’s cheek and slams the door shut before heading to his car. Jungkook waits for Netta to buckle herself in and pulls out of his parking space.

“You did really well today. I thought your team was going to win.”

“What kind of teachers would we be if we swept the floor with a bunch of little kids?”

Netta laughs and nods her head in agreement. She is sure that the children would have been heartbroken if they had lost, especially with the promise of an ice cream party as the prize.

“Well, I still think you kicked ass out there.”

“Yeah? We still lost the game…my ego is bruised.”

“Your poor ego.”

“Kiss it and make it better?”

Netta glances over at Jungkook, and he smiles innocently.

“You’re a dork.”

“I’m your dork,” Jungkook says with a wink before he turns his attention back to the road.

Date night is beyond anything that Netta was able to imagine. She was under the impression that Jungkook was going to take her out to eat, and that was it, classy and simple. How wrong she was. Jungkook took Netta to an aquarium. The aquarium was something that Netta recalled telling him about over a late night phone call when Jungkook asked what was something she missed from her hometown. They explored the whole place, swam with the dolphins, pet the stingrays, and cuddled some otters and Jungkook won a large penguin plushie from a raffle that he entered. For dinner, Jungkook had placed an order for pickup at one of his favorite small family restaurants, and they ate their meal under the stars on a large blanket in the park.

It was a perfect date, and Jungkook suggested that they end the night with ice cream, to which Netta agreed. Ice cream sounded wonderful, and that’s how she ended up back at Jungkook’s home, once again sitting in his living room. They sit on the same couch and share a tub of ice cream between them, along with a few other treats, while One Piece plays on the tv.

“Nami is always hitting them,” Jungkook pouts, and Netta laughs.

“If they would act right, they wouldn’t get hit.”

“They are pirates! There is no acting right,” Jungkook argues, and Netta licks the spoon in her hand.

“Pirates or not pirates, they shouldn’t scream at each other all the time.”

“It’s entertaini-”

“Shit! C-Cold!”

Jungkook’s brain freezes, and he stops talking mid-sentence as he watches the melted ice cream from Netta’s spoon drip onto her bare leg, her thigh that is exposed since she chose to wear a dress tonight. Netta drops her spoon into the tub of ice cream and quickly wipes her thigh with her middle finger, collecting the melted ice cream. She brings her finger to her mouth and licks the melted treat from her finger.

“Sorry, you were saying?”

She turns her eyes back to Jungkook, and he is staring at her hard. Netta tilts her head, unsure why he looks so pained, and she follows his gaze to the smeared ice cream on her thigh.

“Jungkook?” Netta calls his name gently, and he doesn’t budge, so she unbends her leg and kicks out her foot. The tips of her toes graze Jungkook’s outer thigh, and he jumps from the sudden pressure against his leg. His large eyes find Netta’s, and she smiles while biting her lower lip. “See something you like?”

Jungkook’s eyes drop back to her thighs, and he grabs her ankle now that her foot is resting on his lap. The spoon in Jungkook’s hand slaps against the side of Netta’s calf, and she jumps from the coldness.

“Sorry…” Jungkook’s voice is breathy as he slowly lifts Netta’s leg upward towards his face, “Let me get that for you.” His tongue peaks out of his mouth, and her breath catches in her throat as the warm wetness of his tongue sends goosebumps up her body. Jungkook’s tongue slides up, up, up. The splat of ice cream long gone as he moves higher, stopping at the side of Netta’s knee before he places a wet kiss on the skin. He lets her leg fall to his shoulder, the other still tucked under her butt, giving Jungkook a great view of the black and green panties underneath the dress.

“Not sure what I enjoy more-” Jungkook places the ice cream on the table and drops his spoon into the tub. “the ice cream or you.”

Netta releases the breath in her lungs as Jungkook devours her with his eyes and untucks her other leg from underneath her butt. “I don’t think you tasted me properly, Mr. Jeon.”

Jungkook’s eyes darken, and he quickly grabs her legs and throws them around his waist, “You might just be right, Ms. Robbins.” Jungkook lifts them both from the couch and supports Netta’s body by holding her ass in his hands. “Should we test our hypothesis?”

Netta fights the smile on her face, “Did we come up with one?”

“I hypothesize that you taste better than anything I’ve eaten today.”

“Just today?”

Jungkook smirks and clicks his tongue, “Let’s find out.”

Making his way through the apartment, Jungkook heads to his bedroom and toes open the door of his bedroom, thankful that he never fully closes it when he leaves. He steps inside and plops Netta down on the bed so that her legs hang off and drops to the floor on his knees. Jungkook places his hands on her knees and trails them up over her thighs, the fabric of her nude colored dress catching against his hands and bunching as he travels farther up. Jungkook licks and sucks at the exposed flesh of Netta’s thighs; her skin is salty and smells like cookie dough. Jungkook groans against her inner thigh and sinks his teeth into the soft skin. Netta whines, and her back arches as her hands tangle in Jungkook’s fluffy locks.

“Shhh, relax for me…I just want a taste.” Jungkook’s voice is gone, airy and light, as his hands tuck into the waistband of Netta’s panties, and he tugs them down. Netta removes her hands from Jungkook’s hair before she lifts her legs slightly and bends her right leg to make it easier for Jungkook to remove them. He just lets the panties hang from around her left ankle. The dress that Netta is wearing is now bunched completely up her waist, her lower half exposed to the cool air in Jungkook’s room, and she shivers when his warm breath glides over the wetness that is slowly leaking from her core.

“One taste...please, Ms. Robbins?”

Netta nods her head, and Jungkook stares at her with wide eyes, his lips parted slightly as his tongue plays with his lip ring. “Y-Yes…go ahead, Jungkook.” Netta’s heart pounds in her chest as Jungkook lowers his head, not once breaking eye contact. The warmth of his breath makes her shiver, and in that moment, Jungkook trails his tongue from her perineum and licks upwards to her sensitive nub, dipping the tip into her dripping slit teasingly.

“O-Oh!”

Spurred on by the soft pants of ‘ah, ah!’ and ‘s-shit’, Jungkook slurps up everything Netta offers. Like a peach, her juices coat his mouth and chin as he wraps his lips around the puffy bud between her legs. Netta’s back arches, and Jungkook moans against her, grinning as her thighs squish his head like a vice. His dark eyes are sparkling in delight as Netta threads her fingers through his silky locks and pushes his head down. Not waiting to leave his baby wanting for more, Jungkook manages to get his right hand between Netta’s legs and slips his middle finger inside of her dripping cunt.

“Oh, f-fuck!”

The stretch is very slight, not much, but the pressure is enough to make Netta’s legs quiver. Jungkook presses a messy kiss to her pussy and nips at the tender flesh of her inner thigh, “That’s it, baby. So fucking wet…mmm-” Jungkook hums as he licks his lips. “Best pussy I’ve ever eaten.” Jungkook’s voice is liquid gold, thick and warm as he presses his index finger in with his middle, and Netta’s whole body is shaking. “Close, Ms. Robbins?”

The air in Netta’s lungs is hardly there, and the words on the tip of her tongue come out as harsh pants of breath as she struggles to control herself. Jungkook’s fingers are long and thick around his knuckles. They press into her quickly, hitting that soft bundle repeatedly as he laps at every place he can taste. He can feel how her walls pulse around him, a silent beat that his body easily follows.

“Squeezing my fingers so tight…” Jungkook tries to wiggle his fingers, and Netta moans loudly. He removes his fingers and nips at Netta’s right thigh, the flesh tender and damp with his spit. “Look at the mess you made,” Jungkook holds his hand up to show Netta the sticky clear strands of her arousal between his spread fingers and grins wickedly as Netta stares down at him through hazy, hooded lids.

“J-Jungkook!” Netta whines at the loss of his fingers and sinful mouth. She was in the throes of pleasure, at the highest peak, ready to plummet before he pulled it all away. Jungkook raises an eyebrow and nibbles at his lip ring. Shaking her head with a huff, Netta kicks at Jungkook to move from off the floor, and he crawls onto the bed. “Can you do something with that? Please?” Netta motions to Jungkook’s soiled hand, and Jungkook easily pops his fingers in his mouth with a lewd moan as he sucks her arousal from the digits. “Jungkook!” Netta squeaks in embarrassment and slaps at his chest.

He pulls his fingers from his mouth with a loud, wet pop, and Netta wishes she could hide under the covers. “Why are you acting shy now, hmm?” Jungkook wipes at his mouth and chin with the back of his wrist and pulls Netta into his arms. He nuzzles their noses together and grins. “Best pussy-”

“Shut up, Jeon!” Netta slaps her hand over his mouth, and Jungkook kisses her palm. Jungkook nips at her finger, and Netta giggles as Jungkook wipes his head back and forth playfully like a dog trying to escape its muzzle. Netta pulls her hand from his face, and Jungkook pecks her lips.

“Do you want to stop here?”

“But what about-”

“Aht, aht!” Jungkook shakes his head and grips Netta's chin lightly between his thumb and index finger. He tilts her face upwards and stares into her honey brown eyes. “I’ve gone to sleep with boners before. It’s not that big a deal. Do you want to stop here or keep going, Ms. Robbins?”

The urge to pee presses into Netta’s pelvis, and she bites her lip, “C-can I use the bathroom first?”

Jungkook laughs and kisses the tip of her nose, “Go. I’ll get everything ready here.”

Netta wiggles out of Jungkook’s arms and hurries out of his room, her panties now somewhere on his bedroom floor as she walks the rest of the way out of them. Jungkook lays in bed, his heart racing in his chest before he takes a deep breath and sits up. He runs a hand through his hair and strips out of his shirt, pants, and boxers. Not wanting to make Netta feel awkward, he reaches into his nightstand drawer and grabs a condom from the pack. He rips the foil, rolls it on over his dick, and settles under the blankets, exposing his chest.

From the floor, Jungkook’s phone rings from his pants pocket, and he groans. Glancing at the door, Jungkook chews at his piercing. It wouldn’t hurt just to check to see who is calling. Slipping out of bed, Jungkook grabs his pants from the floor and digs his phone from his pocket. He looks at the screen, and Netta’s smiling face is looking up at him. He glances at the door again before hurries out of the room and knocks on the bathroom door.

“Hey, you okay in there?”

The sound of crying is muffled behind the door, and his phone goes off again. Netta is calling him again, so Jungkook answers.

“What’s wrong? Why are you crying? D-Did I hurt you?” Jungkook’s voice raises with panic, and Netta sniffles a few times.

“I-I’m sorry, Jungkook. I-I wanted to do more b-but my period c-came and-” Netta bursts into tears on the other line, and Jungkook’s heart drops into his ass.

“No, no. It’s okay, Netta!” Jungkook reassures her. “D-Do you have anything with you? I’m sorry, I don’t have anything here.”

“I didn’t bring anything with me.”

“Just wait here, okay? I can ask my neighbor if she has anything for you to use so you aren’t stuck in the bathroom. I-Is that okay?”

“I’m sorry Jungkook-”

“Stop apologizing! It’s fine, Netta.” Jungkook walks away from the bathroom and heads to his room to throw his clothes back on. “Give me a few moments. Do you mind if she comes over? I can run to the store and grab whatever you need in that time.”

“You don’t have to-”

“Netta, stop. I’m dating you, and you’re dating me. That means we take care of each other, right?” Jungkook hurries to the front door and slips on a pair of shoes. “Right?” he asks again, and Netta makes sounds of agreement. “Right! So, act right, and let me take care of you.”

Netta’s laugh is watery and full of snot but it makes Jungkook’s heart race.

“Thank you, Mr. Jeon.”

Jungkook grins and knocks on his neighbor's door, “You’re welcome, Ms. Robbins.”

#jungkook smut #jungkook fic #jungkook fluff #jungkook x oc #teacher!jungkook #soc jungkook #act right #exqueuese me

139 notes · View notes

jeon-s-sins · 1 year

Text

Middle Of The Night | Index

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

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

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

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

Parts

Part I || Part II

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

#Middle Of The Night | Index #yaya #jeon s sins #bts fanfic #bts smut #jungkook x reader #teacher/student #jk demon #jk incubus #jk smut #jk middle of the night

209 notes · View notes

xoxiu · 10 months

Text

autumn outside the post office - jin x reader

chapter four table of contents masterlist join the taglist

≪ how long will beautiful things last? ≫

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

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

taglist: @severecatsheep

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

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

And you liked it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Knees, now."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I'll try to remember that."

————

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Led by Mr. Kim.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Sure."

#bts fanfic #seokjin x reader #kim seokjin #teacher/student #bts smut #college au #kim namjoon #min yoongi #jung hoseok #park jimin #kim taehyung #jeon jungkook #bts #autumn outside the post office

66 notes · View notes

btsgotjams27 · 2 years

Text

the kindergarten teacher | jjk

you meet your daughter's teacher and he's not what you expected.

✨ title: the kindergarten teacher | ✨ pairing: jungkook x f!reader ✨ word count: 507 words | ✨ rating: G ✨ genre/au: teacher!au, singlemom!reader, fluff, cute ✨ warnings: none ✨ a/n: i saw this RUN ep and immediately thought about how cute it would be if JK was a teacher T_T

"You're Hyunie's teacher?"

He wasn't your average teacher, per se. You rarely saw men in elementary teaching positions, thinking back to when you were in school too. You only saw men as teachers in higher education.

He had fun blue hair, half up in a ponytail with a big bright smile and innocent doe eyes. After thinking about it, he's probably the perfect type of teacher. He's young, athletic, entertaining, and more than likely able to keep up with the kids.

He had a paint splattered apron on. You guessed he was setting an art project up for the kids to keep the kids distracted. "Hi, I'm Jeon Jungkook or I suppose all my kids call me Koo, Kookie, or JK."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean it to come out like that. I'm just not used to a man being a kindergarten teacher."

He was amused by your boldness. "That's okay. I get that statement pretty often."

"What made you want to become a teacher?" You were curious, most teachers you knew were women, not men. It was refreshing actually, to see a man in this profession.

Several kids came up behind him, tugging on his shirt begging for his attention.

"I'm sorry. I feel like I'm prying and you're probably busy."

He turned around and got down on the kids' level, telling them he would be right with them. He got up and ruffled two of their heads before they ran off. The kids looked disappointed as he turned back to you. "No, no, it's okay." He flashed a smile. "You don't need to apologize. I didn't intend on becoming a teacher but one summer I accidentally became a counselor for the younger kids and I loved it so much."

A guy loving kids? That's unheard of. "Wow, that's great. I mean I'm happy to hear that Hyunie will be in good hands."

"Thank you for trusting me. I know it's hard. Will Hyunie's father be joining us today too?"

"Oh, it's just me. We're separated at the moment and her father isn't really in the picture." Did he really need all of that information right now? Get a hold of yourself. He's your daughter's teacher for goodness sake.

"I'm sorry to hear that because Hyunie is a great kid. You're doing a good job mom." He said flashing another smile, showing off the small dimple etched into the squish of his cheek.

"Thanks." You said it reluctantly. It sucked to be honest, her father was barely in her life, and you hoped you were trying your best to take care of her. You just wanted her to grow up and be a good human, that's all any parent could ask for.

"It was great to finally meet you. I have to mingle with the other parents, part of the job. I'm sure I'll be seeing more of you." He politely bowed and went on his way.

Hyunie found you and began tugging on your dress. "Momma, isn't Mr. Kookie great?"

"Mmhm, he is."

#bts jungkook #bts fanfic #bts #jungkook fanfic #jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook cute #fic: the kindergarten teacher

233 notes · View notes

romancefranaticstay · 4 months

Text

Professor Jin

Short backstory• Y/N is a student at the university. You love studying, reading books, going to the library. Your a bit of a loner, but you still have many friends to carry on your shoulders. One day you get a new professor, and everything change’s.•

Category• smut, fluff

Warnings• a little bit smut, tiny bit swearing

•Song recommendations•

•Because I am working on Cheaters get Heated part 5, I wanted to make this in the mean time. Enjoy!•

Goodmorning, it’s a beautiful morning, even tho it’s sucks.

You take your stuff and walk out of your appartement, on your way out you see ur black cat. He’s is lazy, just laying around and eating. You wear a black coat, stylish. You walk towards your black car and you drive towards the university. You look at the clock, o my lord it’s 7 am? How could be 7 am? You drive into the parking, and your walking fast towards your class. Your not scared to be late, but it’s not a good first impression. You knock on the door 3 time’s and open it.

You yawn, and try to get out of bed. You almost fall back asleep but ur alarm goes off.

You almost fall out of bed. You aren’t even happy today. You stand up and look at the time. It’s 6 am. Gosh you hate mornings, you walk over towards your desk, with all your books and notebooks. It’s a mess. You take your backpack and just throw everything inside. What should you wear today? You take some baggy pants, a white collar and black shoes. You look in the mirror. It isn’t formal, but it’s alright. Then your brushing/styling your hair. Perfect.

‘I am sorry I am late, si-.’ Wow, is that your professor? He looks so young, this can’t be. Wow, the silent is to long, just say something.

‘Take a seat’ he looks at his clipboard ‘Y/N.’

You walk towards your friend Jungkook who is sitting by the window, in the back of the classroom.

‘Psst, hey.’ you say ‘we have a new professor?’ ‘He looks way to young, to be honest.’ Jungkook says. Professor Jin starts explaining Korean culture, but you only can stare at his lips, wow. His face is just so, you can’t even explain. Time goes so fast when your staring at a miracle. ‘No Y/N you can’t find your teacher hot, or cute. It’s weird.’ you say to yourself. You see many girls sitting infront, giggling and blushing. You don’t want to be that type of girl. They are all whispering and if he looks at them they all start over again. Even Jungkook’s crush is sitting there. You feel kinda bad for him.

‘Why would they all stare at him? There is no way someone can be with a teacher?! That’s just weird.’ he gossips to you.

‘He is blehh.’ he says with a weird expression, you laugh.

‘You two in the back’ mr Kim says ‘what you two laughing about?’ You two froze, but Jungkook make’s the entire time weird faces towards you. Both of you try to hold our laughter, but it’s just to hard. So both of you burst into laughing. You are almost crying because of laughter.

‘Because you two have so much fun in the back, why don’t Y/N sit here infront of me?’ professor Kim says.

‘I can go infront.’ Jungkook propose.

You just stand up and walk towards the empty seat, it’s the closest seat. You actually can smell him, wow. After class, the professor glances at you while ur walking with Jungkook outside. ‘You know that mr Kim was looking at you the entire time, what a freak.’ he did? You felt a bit special by hearing that. Before you could walk any further you hear someone saying your name.

‘Miss Y/N, could I talk to you for a second?’ you turn around and it’s ur teacher, mr Kim.

‘I need to go with you?’ Jungkook asks. ‘I am gonna be fine.’ you say, and you walk towards ur teacher. He opens the door for you, to enter the classroom. When he is inside he locks the door. When you hear the click, you turn around. You want to ask why he locked the door, but he cuts you off. He kisses you wild, and pins one hand above you and the other hand he holds.

‘Mr Kim, what are you doing?!’ you asks.

‘I remember the first-kiss-time-kiss-i saw you.’

‘You mean 2 hours okay?’ you breath heavily.

‘Past year.’ he says while still kissing you. He puts his hand behind your head and he hugs you tight. He is so wild, you two accidentally fall on the floor. But that doesn’t stop him. His hands go everywhere. Suddenly someone knocks on the door. You two get off eachother in shock, and you try to calm yourself down. He helps you stand up and breaths heavily. You run towards a seat, and you do like you thinking hard.

He opens the door and there stands a lady.

‘Hello, professor Kim, can i talk with you?’

‘I am actually talking with a student, so-.’

You cut him off, this is just embarrassing.

‘I can go’ you stand up and go to the door ‘i will talk to you tomorrow mr Kim. Have a good day sir.’ you actually want to run, but you can’t be suspicious. You walk slowly through the hallway, while you feel mr Kim’s eyes burn into your back.

•this story will have a next part•

•i don’t want to rush through this story, but maybe today or tomorrow it will be finished!•

•I promise!!•

No copying! No translating! No remaking!

Please respect that!

Part 2 will be out soon!

💋💋💋

#Spotify #bts #bts army #bts fandom #bts fanfic #bts fantasy au #bts fluff #bts icons #bts imagines #teacher crush #professor x #teacher x student #bts jin #bts jungkook #bts scenarios #bts smut #bts x reader

15 notes · View notes

blu-archer · 1 year

Text

Not A burden

Request: @parkjiminie951013

[Magic and hybrids exist, it's not a big part of the story but its that universe that I write about]

I rambled a bit so I'm sorry if it might be long.

I edited [with the cursed read aloud because I physically can't pick up mistakes] but they still might be there. I couldn't actually pay attention all the time...

Word Count: 5946

snz based

Sickie: Hobi

Caretaker: Taekook

Enjoy!

-Not a burden.-

He had successfully suppressed the fact that he was getting sick for three days in the hope that it would pass without genuinely thinking it – it was summer after all.

Who even got cold’s in the summer?

Him, apparently.

It was on day four that his cold truly sunk its claws in forcing to him leave for work early after coming to the realisation that he couldn’t stop sneezing and didn’t want to wake Kook and Tae – coincidentally it was also the fourth day since school had reopened, not that he was blaming his students or anything. Even if two or three of them had been suspiciously peaked and sniffly during dance practice. Now, half-way through day five, he was suffering in his office that he shared with the other dance instructors, grateful for the mostly quiet space so that he could mope without the headache he’d obtained getting any worse before his next classes. By the start of his second class he had taken to switching his water out for honeyed tea so that his voice didn’t give out on him while he taught, and he had managed to get some non-drowsy medicine during a break in his morning. So hopefully he would feel better later, or at least by tomorrow. It surely couldn’t be longer than that.

The timing was annoying, not that there was ever a time that getting a cold wasn’t annoying, but he was thankful that it only appeared to be settling in his head and not his chest. The last thing he needed was to be teaching dance classes while battling to breathe without coughing up a lung or something – if he had to choose between two evils, he could do a lot worse than a head cold.

Didn’t stop it from being uncomfortable though.

The days were warm, and the temperature only seemed to be rising. His excessive sweating because of it wasn’t helping in keeping his running nose in check and no matter how much he seemed to blow his nose – thankfully past him must have remembered to slip moisturised tissues into his bag at some point in the last few days – any progress that it made was destroyed by him sneezing. Sometimes, and this was becoming infuriatingly frustrating, he didn’t even sneeze. He would come close, so close, and then he’d lose it and be left a hot mess without even getting some type of relief out of it. He had spent the last ten minutes blowing his nose and still he could feel congestion building. His head was heavy, and his throat ached despite being practically coated in honey at this point.

If he could just go home, then he would be content. Sure he probably wouldn’t feel any better than he currently did, but at least he wouldn’t be dealing with hyperactive teenagers for the rest of the day. As much as he loved his students and loved the dance classes that he taught, the energy required was gradually killing him.

There was the creaking sound of a door opening, forcing Hoseok to glance up from his pity party of tea and tissues in case it was a student needing something during the break. Thankfully, it was just his best friend with a smile that was far too bright for the morning he’d just had.

“Seok-ah? Oh, there you are. We were supposed to meet in the contemporary studio like fifteen minutes ago.”

“Jimin, I couldn’t care less about reviewing that routine in this heat. It will likely be great with how much of a perfectionist you are.” He had meant for it to be just the right amount of teasing, but it had come out as more of a snappish retort. Like he had turned into some moody gremlin. Oh god, had he momentarily turned into Yoongi?

“Okaaay… Mr. Cranky, you could have just cancelled.” Jimin frowned, his tail swishing around his legs with growing annoyance. “I was waiting for you for nothing.”

Hoseok winced at the sharp look the hybrid sent his way as Jimin rounded the room to his own desk and pulled out his lunch. “Sorry. I should have messaged, but I honestly forgot all about it until now.”

“Really?” Jimin pouted, peering at his friend with wary eyes. “Is everything alright?”

“Mmm. I’ve got a cold and paired up with these heatwaves, it’s turning my head to mush.” Hoseok complained.

Jimin’s eyes softened with sympathy. It wasn��t often that Hobi got sick – literally out of their entire department he probably had the strongest immune system, but alas. Even the strongest of them fall at some point. “Why don’t you head out early?”

“It’s not bad enough for me to go home.” He shrugged, resting heavily in his palm. The hard wood of his desk was beginning to hurt his elbow, but he didn’t have the energy to shift into a more comfortable position. “Plus Jungkook is working on some commission projects at home, so I’ve been trying to stay out of his way.”

“You’d have to go home eventually.” The three of them lived together, it wasn’t like he wouldn’t see his partners at some point in the evening. “It might be better to just take it easy and rest.”

Hoseok sniffed meekly then gave a small head shake. “Taehyung has been swamped with his private studies with Yoongi – as in he sometimes doesn’t leave his little cave of spell books and crystals and herbs and all the other things that I’m worried might one day just collapse on him in that tiny study. I still have to go grocery shopping for dinner or maybe get some take out, I don’t think I can cook without potentially sneezing in it.”

Jimin looked like he was going to argue – his mouth pulling into that mildly angry pout – before he changed his mind, whipping out his phone and typing surprisingly quick with just one hand as the other grabbed chopsticks for him to start eating. “Get something delivered. There’s this really nice place that has the best soups, I’ll send you their details. They have other stuff too, but I usually order from them when I’m not feeling well or when Yoongi is away. It will open your sinuses right up and it tastes great – so like, a win-win situation.”

Maybe Jimin was onto something with that. He wouldn’t have to cook, and he could go to the store for groceries tomorrow when he would hopefully be feeling better. “That sounds like ..h’hh.. like a g- HA’shh’uh! H’ESHiuu!” he groaned, sniffling into his palm as he fumbled for his tissues. “Sorry. Good plad.”

“Best plan.” Jimin corrected, taking the moment to shovel food into his mouth while Hoseok blew his nose. Their break was almost over so he’d need the food if he wanted to survive the next three hours before school broke out. “Just.. take it easy.”

Hoseok didn’t think he really had a choice in the matter, his body was going to force him to whether he wanted to or not, unfortunately.

The rest of his day was uneventful. Boring yet still entirely exhausting. His classes had gone relatively smoothly despite the numerous breaks to blow his nose and him sounding a bit croaky towards the end, but they’d eventually ended, leaving him regretting his life choices for a few minutes before packing up his stuff. Then he’d made the drive home filled with teary yawns and blaring music to keep him from accidentally falling asleep. That was the last thing he needed to happen.

Once he had entered their apartment it was like he could finally embrace how tired he truly was, almost sinking to the floor when he struggled to remove his shoes for a minute. Then he shuffled straight to the bedroom, changing into some boxers and a loose shirt that probably belonged to Jungkook before falling face first into the pillows. He didn’t even bother to climb beneath the blankets – it was too hot to bother even if it was his exhaustion that had made the decision for him.

Vaguely he could hear Jungkook in the house, humming and singing as he worked on his paintings. It was unlikely that the hybrid would leave the chaotic corner of the living room that had momentarily turned into a studio and Tae would still be out for a few hours… Hoseok muffled a moan into the bedsheets before he pulled himself up once more just to collect his phone from his discarded pants pocket – going back a second time to collect his car keys as well to put on the bedside table before he forgot about them completely.

The ‘details’ Jimin had sent him earlier in the day was a single link to a website, but it was thankfully simple enough, even for his fogged mind, to put in a timed order that would arrive later. After setting an alarm two hours from now, Hoseok returned to his previous spot on the bed with just as much detachment in his fall as before.

He muffled coughs into the bedsheet, hoping it was quiet enough that Jungkook didn’t feel the need to investigate and then let his eyes fall shut with a final low groan.

And as quickly as they had shut, he was forcing them open once more. Although his eyelids did put up quite a fight, Hoseok woke up to his alarm cleaving a hole into his skull.

He wasn’t usually a grumpy person when waking up, but his head ached too much for him to not want to throw his phone across the room. He didn’t, obviously that would be outrageous, but as he managed to finally turn the alarm off he took a moment to breathe in the silence and just imagine how it would have felt to do it.

He cleared his throat with a cough that dwindled into a small fit that left him sniffling and swiping a wrist under his nose. Hoseok pushed himself to sit up all the while frowning at the thin throw blanket that someone must have draped over him during his nap. He hadn’t needed it, but his chest was warm at the thought of such small acts of care. He could almost imagine Jungkook having been the one to do so, he’d watched the hybrid tenderly care for an unaware Taehyung multiple times in the past already. It wasn’t hard to decipher how each one showed their affection.

Hoseok folded it up and tossed it onto his pillow before forcing himself to his feet. Immediately he could feel a shift of congestion in his sinuses that had him hitching into his palm before he pinched his nose, stifling three sneezes that left him breathless and unrelieved.

Thankfully he had some tissues in their bedside drawer that once he had used all of them he made sure to throw them away in the bathroom opposite their bedroom before washing his hands and splashing some water on his face. It didn’t help in changing the fact that his cheeks had lost some of their colour and his nose was beginning to capture a pink hue that was only growing more noticeable the longer he stared at his reflection.

“Hobi?”

Hoseok turned to the sound of Taehyung’s voice. The younger had clearly spoken from the bedroom so he took a final swipe at his nose, grimaced at himself, and then stepped into the hallway almost directly into his boyfriend. He had to turn last minute to avoid the full force of collision.

“There you are.” Tae sighed, moving closer until he could sink his face into Hoseok’s neck and wrap his arms around him. “You didn’t say bye this morning, I feel like I haven’t seen you properly in days.”

He tried not to feel too guilty about skipping out on his boyfriends before they woke up, but it wasn’t entirely on him that he’d missed Tae these last few days – the past week the younger had been quite literally burying himself in work until late. “Sorry. Jus’ had class stuff to do.” He cleared his throat again, flushing a little at how rough his voice sounded, but if Tae realised that it was from anything other than his recent sleep, he didn’t let it show.

“Must have been a long day if you decided to nap.” Tae teased, leading him to the lounge where Jungkook was still working, albeit with a cider in hand and a drying paintbrush in the other. “Jungkook said he didn’t even hear you come home.”

“Saw you on my bathroom break.” Jungkook murmured without taking his eyes off of his painting. “Do you think this is the right colour? Or should it be more of a peach? Damn, it should definitely be more peach.”

“I-hih- It looks good, Koo.” He shuffled a bit away from either of them and willed his nose to behave. They didn’t need to add worrying about him onto their list of things to do. So he lowered himself into the single seater chair and pulled out his phone at the convenient notification chime. “I –“ He smothered a yawn before he spoke again. “It was long. I ordered some food from this place that Jimin recommended because I was too tired to go shopping. ‘Says they’re good. It’s on its way soon.”

“Looks like you’re still tired.” Tae observed. “Thankfully it’s the weekend, so you can sleep in a bit and hopefully catch up on what you need.”

He had forgotten that he wouldn’t need to get up early. Relief flooded him at not having to force himself through studio classes for a third day of feeling like cotton had replaced his brain, because as much as he hoped, he definitely was not going to be better in the morning if he had felt worse after just a nap.

“Is it that noodle place?” Jungkook asked, finally twisting away from his work and letting Taehyung remove the brush from his hand to set it down in a paint splattered jar of water.

“Think so.” Hobi shrugged, his nose was threatening to run again, and he had to fight the urge to scrub at it. “ ‘Ordered a few things so we have a pick.”

Jungkook seemed pleased with that answer, pressing a quick kiss to Hoseok’s cheek before collapsing onto the sofa before downing his drink eagerly and proceeding to stare blankly at his work.

Tae joined him, laying so that his head rested in Jungkook’s lap and his feet barely dangling off of the edge of the couch. “We can catch up on some shows then while we wait. Come lay with me hyung.”

Hoseok brushed him off with a tight chuckle and settled back into his seat, running his hand through his hair with loose fatigue. “I think I’d start overheating if I cuddle with either of you furnaces.”

He hoped that they didn’t call him out on how the temperature had dropped drastically already. Thankfully Jungkook was too distracted, and Taehyung had learnt not to be too overly demanding, especially when it came to others space. So all he received as response was a heavy pout from the warlock as he fumbled the remote and turned their tv on to some nature show.

To be honest, he thought he was doing pretty well at keeping his symptoms hidden. Sure he was occasionally wiping his nose with his hand or wrist, which was frustrating because he couldn’t so much as sniff without Jungkook hearing him with how close they were, but he seemed to be getting away with it.

Or at least he had been.

It was about an hour into the mindless show Taehyung had chosen [some African wildlife thing that was all blurring together in a kill or be killed cycle] that Jungkook decided he was going to start painting again. No matter how much Tae complained about being slid off of his lap onto a pillow, the hybrid seemed obsessively fixated on getting his commissions done. It wouldn’t have been a problem, Hoseok usually loved watching Jungkook paint, but his nose had a different perspective the second he smelt the brutal stench of turpentine filling the space. Burning into his sinuses and making his eyes tear up with the need to sneeze. He would be able to excuse one maybe, but the building tickle was savage enough for him to know it wasn’t going to be an easy escape.

His breath had already stuttered audibly enough that he knew he wasn’t going to be able to hold back anything if he stayed seated there. So he hastily got to his feet, his hand hovering over his face as some type of shield and muttered a weak excuse of making some tea. As soon as his back was turned and he was heading for the kitchen, his nose was pinched shut and he was stifling a frustratingly wet fit between his fingers.

It was disgusting. He was disgusted with himself. Even as he actively tried to clean up by blowing lightly into his hand and letting the result be washed away in the sink. He tried to get his breathing under control, yet it seemed that the burn that had appeared in his sinuses wasn’t going to be rid of so easily and he was forced to try and hold back another as he dried his hands.

Only to pitch forward again with barely managing to stifle from the force of the sneeze. It hadn’t even helped; it had just left him itchy and teary eyed.

“Bless you, Hyung.”

Hoseok quite literally jumped at the soothing, rich voice. How mortifying. Tae smiled softly.

“You don’t look like you’re feeling well. Do you need a tissue?”

He rested a hand on his chest in a useless attempt to calm his racing heart while he waved the other in a vague ‘so-so’ gesture before catching two more sneezes into his palm. He was sniffing a bit more than usual after that but otherwise tried to regain composure. Not that Taehyung was believing him for a second with his bemused gaze trained on what Hoseok could only assume was his ever-reddening nose in desperate need of attention.

“Jus’ -snnf- sobething in the air, I thingk.”

“Hobi… You’ve been sniffling for days.” Tae said gently. “You don’t usually try and hide things, so don’t start being difficult about it now. Bun and I do that enough for all of us.”

“I-“ His breath caught in his throat, and he stuttered through it long enough to grow flushed as he twisted away. “H’IIEUSHH!”

Taehyung stepped close, so that his chest brushed up against Hoseok’s back, his arm coming around his waist to rub gentle circles over Hoseok’s stomach. The dancer jolted at his boyfriends cold hands momentarily meeting his skin as they slipped under his shirt, but he soon melted into it. So much for wanted to deal with his problems alone, apparently he was an open book. Yet he couldn’t bring himself to mind so much as he gradually sunk back into Tae’s chest. The younger had to strengthen his grip on his boyfriend’s waist to keep him from falling.

“Come lie with us. You know we wouldn’t do anything to make you uncomfortable, right?” Hoseok could feel Taehyung’s breath by his ear as he swiped his wrist under his nose – he definitely needed that tissue now. “We haven’t actually made you uncomfortable right? Because you can tell us if we do.”

“No. No, I just thought…” Hobi pulled out from the embrace just enough to turn and rest his head on the warlock’s shoulder. “You’re both busy. I didn’t want to make you worry when you have enough on your plates.”

“Yes, because having our boyfriend that usually tells us every aspect of his day and wellbeing deciding to suddenly hide it wasn’t going to make us worry at all.” Tae murmured but his voice lilted with humour. “You don’t need to do that. Now come… I can hear Kook shuffling around out there and he really needs to take a break from those paintings before he loses all sense of colour again.”

Despite his discomfort Hoseok couldn’t help but let out a small, tired laugh as he got dragged back to their couch, witnessing Jungkook gnaw at the end of his paintbrush without a care of the drying paint there. The turpentine was thankfully closed again but the scent still clung to the air enough for Hoseok’s sniffling to increase again.

“Hyung is sick.” Tae announced, forcing the eldest to settle in the centre of the sofa before he went to retrieve Jungkook’s paintbrush from him once more. “And you need to stop. It’s family time now.”

Jungkook sniffed petulantly at the latter statement, but joined Hobi on the couch, hugging his knees into his chest before leaning into the other.

“I had a feeling you were. I kept having to replace tissues in your bag.”

Replace… Ah. That makes sense. Of course Jungkook had been the one to hide the packs of tissues in his work bag, Hoseok was giving himself way too much credit by thinking he would ever remember to do that. “Why did you sta-ahh-rt ..snf.. doing that anyway? You did it before I even began to feel bad.”

The hybrid shrugged, pressing his nose into Hoseok neck which was seemingly becoming his favourite action. Jimin said it was something about his scent being ‘clean’, but he wasn’t complaining if sniffing him made his boyfriend at ease. Although he couldn’t imagine him smelling like anything but sweat and sickness right now.

“You were going to bed earlier and snoring a little.” Jungkook replied as if it were obvious. Which for some reason made Hoseok even more embarrassed about the situation.

Taehyung even hummed in agreement, nudging Hoseok in the side playfully as he sat on the other side of him, and finger snapped a tissue box into existence on his lap. He tried not to seem too impressed at how much better he was doing at simple magic like that, cutting Hoseok off before he could even think to comment on it.

“No need to blush, Sunshine.” Tae pressed a kiss to his check. “Your snores are very cute.”

Hoseok groaned, pushing them both away as they burst into giggles. “You’re hor-ih’hh…ugh. Horrible. Both of you.” He sniffed with annoyance and claimed a tissue, rubbing his nose with enough force that he winced at the liquid sound it made.

Yet his actions, despite his silent plea for reprieve, did nothing on helping the itch in his sinuses loosen and he was left to blow his nose with little relief. Not that blowing it did much either. He was still equally as congested and runny as he was before. He honestly didn’t understand the logic.

He went to blow again, managing to plough through at least four or five more tissues and only on the last one did the tickle become unbearable enough to tip him over the edge. Forcing him to rip out an abrupt sneeze into his already over used tissue.

“You don’t sound well at all.” Jungkook spoke softly, more to himself than anyone else. His hand trailing up Hoseok’s spine while Taehyung reached over with a new tissue, trading it with the one that was clutched in their partners grasp. “Tae’s right. It’s family time, so let’s go to bed. We can turn on the AC if you’re still hot and we can just relax together. I’ll wait up for our food if you fall asleep again and just bring it there for us to eat.”

He wanted to decline. After all they could relax here… Yet he couldn’t bring himself to mutter the words. He’d been dreaming of his bed the whole day; he’d be foolish to deny it now after the offer has been so easily presented.

“Delivery shouldn’t be much longer.” Taehyung mused, leaning back into his boyfriend. “How about this. You two go shower and wash off all that sweat and paint fumes. I will handle the food when it comes. That way Bun can’t sneak in and do more painting.” His tone didn’t leave room for argument and Hoseok couldn’t lie that he found it a little attractive. “I’ll also make some of that tea that Hobi so evidently forgot about a few minutes ago.”

“ You dragged me away.” Hoseok denied weakly as he yawned.

“Sure sure.” But the teasing grin’s only continued to grow on his boyfriends faces.

The shower was pretty much hell – even with Jungkook having joined him. The steam may have cleared his congestion momentarily, but it opened way for a string of continuous fits of sneezes that would have even put Jungkook in allergy season to shame. The hybrid tried his best to help though, soaping his boyfriend up before himself and then moving to quickly wash Hoseok’s hair while keeping a steady hand on the elder so that he didn’t slip or sway.

By the time they were finished, and Hoseok was on their bed in fresh pyjama’s having his hair ruffled and blow dried, his head was throbbing with the pulse of his heart in his ears and the pressure in his clouded mind was so heavy he couldn’t even keep from drooping against his boyfriend – probably making it a little harder to dry his hair but Jungkook didn’t utter a complaint. He just scratched at the dancers nape and tried to work faster.

Before he knew it he was being settled under the covers with a small display of some of the food he’d ordered being placed around him. Tae and Kook joined him on either side sipping steaming cups of tea that he himself didn’t have the will power to stomach. Instead he was slowly spooning a broth into his mouth despite his lack of appetite.

He had to give kudos to Jimin’s recommendation because even though he wasn’t at all hungry, the food was decent enough that he kept eating it. Every spoonful or so later Jungkook would slip him a bite of rice or meat to go with his own meal and Taehyung was quick to discard or hand him tissues when he couldn’t sniff anymore.

He didn’t participate in much else other than eating since his energy was depleting drastically even though it was barely 7pm, but he listened to Tae tell them about his day. Embraced the domesticity of him speaking about the new things he’d learnt or accomplished while Jungkook chimed in with praise and reassurance when needed. Taehyung even gave a swift example of summoning a portion of his magic which formed a bright purple orb in the palm of his hand, but let it dissipate when the light had triggered yet another exhausted sneeze from Hoseok when he’d lent closer to see it better. All that, embarrassment aside, had only prompted Tae to reach over and hold a tissue to Hoseok’s nose, telling him to blow and promising to show him again when he was feeling better.

“Are you tired hyung?” Jungkook shifted so that Hoseok was partially leaning onto his chest while they sat perched against their pillows. He continued after receiving a small, croaky hum. “Let Taehyungie get you some medicine first, then you can lie down properly.”

“Mm ’sorry.” Hoseok reached for another tissue as Taehyung gathered their dishes and leftovers before leaving. “Said I wasn’t gonna make you worry, but now you’re distracted from work.”

The hybrid frowned and burrowed even closer to his sick hyung, pulling him tightly into his arms so that his mouth could press gentle kisses against the side of Hoseok’s neck. “I’m not distracted. I need breaks too, as much as I hate to admit it. Plus Tae’s right, evenings are family time and that would still be the case whether you were at full health or not.” He watched as the other wiped at his nose with exhaustion weighing down his movements. “But you don’t need to feel guilty about it, Hobi. You look after us so well when we feel bad, it’s only natural that we do the same. That we want to, because it’s you and we love you.”

Hoseok let out a heavy breath and relaxed his body, his muscles immediately quaking at the realisation that he’d been beyond tense before. He wasn’t a burden. They loved him. Which he knew, obviously, but it was always nice to be reminded. Especially when he would start getting silly idea’s into his head.

“Do we have-!?”

Jungkook and Hoseok both turned to look at the door, trailing Taehyung’s booming broken question. Then the fluffy haired brunette appeared by the door with a sheepish smile and hands full of bottled medication. “Sorry, I momentarily forgot hyung’s headache.” He moved to set his findings down in Jungkook’s lap, sitting beside the younger while inspecting one of the smaller bottles labels. “I found some of that ointment that Jin and Namjoon made for us a while back. It was made for me I think, but it can be used with Hobi too so… “

“What were you asking earlier?”

“Ah, I couldn’t find any more of that herbal lotion that helped sooth pain. I got the cold medicine though, and some water.”

Hoseok mumbled a soft ‘thank you’ as Jungkook soothingly rubbing circles into his chest while reminding Tae that they hadn’t restocked what he had been looking for yet – no doubt the young warlock would now be adding it to his ever-growing list of ‘things to do immediately’.

“Koo, unbutton hyung’s shirt for me.” Taehyung spoke softly as he shook out two pills from one of the bottles and slipped them into Hoseok’s mouth, quickly following that by opening and pressing the bottle of water to his lips for him to sip and swallow. It was a bit rough on his throat, but Hoseok had never been fond of syrups, so he would deal with the little ache that the tablets would soon sooth. Jungkook worked nimbly, peering over his boyfriends shoulder to find each button as his arms still encased the elder. It was soft and Taehyung had to take the moment to watch fondly as Hoseok yawned and rubbed at his nose with the tissue that had still been in his hand. Taehyung couldn’t help but lean in and press a kiss the elders forehead. “You can go to sleep if you need to baby. I’m just going to rub some stuff on your chest. It should help you feel better soon.”

“Head is so heavy, I don’t kdow if I cadn.”

“Well this might help then.” Jungkook reassured, running a hand through Hoseok’s hair.

Taehyung didn’t hesitate in opening the small bottle he’d been reading earlier – an ointment that worked just a little bit better than the standard store bought VapoRub that Hoseok usually got. He scooped out a little, letting Hoseok blow his nose before he smeared it on the reddening skin. He took some more and started by rubbing it between his palms to warm it up then spread it all over his boyfriends chest. Usually he would take his time massaging it into the skin, but with how heavy-lidded Hoseok’s eyes were drooping Taehyung thought working fast was probably the best route.

He scooped out some more and lathered it from his boyfriends chest, up to his neck so that the familiar tan skin gleamed before he closed the bottle and Jungkook started buttoning up the shirt again.

“Do you-oh my..H’h.. Eh’heitch’uh… H’iitCHH’ew… Shit, sorry.” Jungkook sniffed, flushing at having sneezed into Hoseok’s shoulder. “That stuff is really strong. ”

“I cad’t smell id.” Hoseok pouted, not even fazed at being accidentally used as a tissue.

Taehyung waved his hands at them, shooing them off of the bed just long enough to drag the blankets down and help Hoseok settle into the centre again, elevating his upper body slightly with some pillows. “I can put some more on your nose if you want. Maybe you’re too stuffy for it to work fast.”

“Ha’d bme a tissue.”

Jungkook moved the box to his lap as he climbed in next to his boyfriend, handing him one before blowing his own nose quietly to remove the little itch that the scent had triggered. Hoseok rolled it into a point that had his partners both raising a brow, watching him fail at trying to get himself to sneeze.

“You don’t like inducing like that.” Taehyung stated with lilting concern as he sat down, and Hoseok groaned. He took the tissue away, folding it neatly in half before setting it in his lap. “Let me try to help.”

It started with a simple massage of sorts. It wasn’t something he did often, but he had read up on it before. Taehyung ran his fingers over Hoseok’s cheeks and forehead, working in small circular motions. It was definitely a longer process and his heart ached at how warm and swollen his partner was beneath his fingertips.

It must have been a combination of his actions plus the residue of ointment on his hands that had Hoseok soon frantically pushing them away with hitching breath. Nothing seemed to be happening other than a few gasps and a frustrated moan, so Jungkook took the tissue from Tae’s lap and let it over Hoseok’s nose. Forcing the sick man’s own breaths to heat his face while Jungkook began to massage and squish at his boyfriends full nose.

He had just moved to replace the tissue after having pinched and wiped up the mess they had coaxed out when Hoseok pitched forward, belatedly raising his hands as a congested sneeze ripped from his throat, only seeming to trigger more as his passages emptied.

“Bless you. Bless you.” Taehyung took some tissues from Jungkook and immediately took Hoseok’s hands to wipe clean while Jungkook dived in to hold fresh tissues to his face, catching the next round of sneezes.

“I-h’heh HE’ASHHU! Hh’h’ha..H’ATSHOO…H’Hh’hnn… …Htch’u-AT’CHH…h’h…uh’h.. H’ETCH’UHH-“

“Jesus baby.” Jungkook could feel the moisture seeping through the tissue. He switched for another, not quite catching it in time and forfeiting his arm to a bit of the thick spray before catching them in his shielding hand once more. “Breathe a bit.”

“H’h’HAH… …H’ih--HE’NGCHH’UH---H’ATCHEE…… A’TCHIEW-HA’GCHew… h’AGTCHU!!” Hoseok was panting. The itch was still there but it seemed like he’d gotten most of it out. Into the hands of his boyfriend, much to his own embarrassment. “So’ah..ugh. Sorry.”

“Don’t apologise.” Jungkook smiled, moving the tissues again for Taehyung to now replace them with his own tissued hand.

“Blow.”

There was no point in hesitating, so Hoseok did as he was told. His head and throat throbbed, and he had to take a breather mid blow but eventually he was content enough to lean back and let his boyfriends curl into either side of him. Sure he still couldn’t breathe from both nostrils, but it was better than before. Taehyung even put a little more of that ointment on his nose and Jungkook was right, it was strong and had sent him into another small fit that was thankfully less severe than the previous one. But it had exhausted him in such a way that he was finally able to get some sleep.

The next time he managed to be woken up was by a heavy stream of midday light invading from their cracked open curtains and Jungkook’s jolting frame from where he was huddled beside him as the hybrid sneezed thickly into the deteriorating supply of tissues.

#bts snz #bts fanfic #bts sickfic #sick hoseok #snzfic #bunny hybrid jungkook #warlock taehyung #hybrid jimin #human jhope #magic exists #colds #dance teacher hoseok #hobi is a mess #caring taekook #they're good boyfriends #domestic boyfriends #poly relationship #anyway enjoy

44 notes · View notes

bultaoreunheyyy · 1 year

Text

Happy Fucking Birthday

Title: Happy Fucking Birthday

Word Count: 3792

Summary: just a little maknae line throuple au situation, in which jungkook twists his ankle and then catches a cold from being out in the rain on his birthday

A/N: sorry but I literally created this tumblr so I could get this idea out of my head i’ll go back to lurking now byeee

___

Jeon Jungkook’s day starts out the way it always does, with an iced coffee in hand, the cup chilling his fingers as he unlocks the bookstore that he owns.

Well, to be more accurate, it starts out with him waking up in bed between his two boyfriends, Park Jimin and Kim Taehyung, but he’s not really a morning person so he considers the true beginning of his day to be those moments after he gets his first sip of beautiful cold liquid caffeine in his system.

Waking up between Jimin and Taehyung is definitely the best part of his day though. He usually opens his eyes to the warmth of Taehyung behind him, face pressed into the back of his neck and arm around his waist, and Jimin at his front, pert ass up against his crotch and one hand gripping Jungkook’s to his chest, keeping Jungkook firmly in place. It’s nice, being in the middle. He’s a happy man when he’s between Kim Taehyung and Park Jimin, especially when he wakes up in a group cuddle with them. A big-spoon little-spoon sandwich, if you will.

Some mornings, waking up with the warmth and proximity of two very fine bodies leads to other things, but this morning, Jungkook is fucking exhausted. He wants to fall back asleep, but the bookstore won’t open itself, and Jimin’s alarm is bound to go off any minute, so he carefully untangles himself from his boyfriends and slips into the adjacent bathroom.

The shower he takes does nothing to help wake him up. In fact, as he stands under the hot water, yawning and struggling to keep his eyes open, he’s legitimately worried he’ll fall asleep and drown under the spray.

“Happy birthday,” a low, raspy voice says, and Taehyung pushes back the shower curtain and steps inside the tub next to Jungkook. He still looks half asleep himself, and his voice is still waking up, but the sight and sound of him makes Jungkook smile fondly.

“Good morning,” he says, leaning back against Taehyung’s chest. “Thank you.”

Jungkook had completely forgotten that today is his birthday. He probably would never celebrate it if not for Jimin and Taehyung.

Taehyung beams at him and then grabs Jungkook’s shampoo bottle, squeezing some out onto his palm, his nose scrunching in irritation immediately at the scent. He lathers the shampoo in his hands and then reaches up, moving his fingers through Jungkook’s hair in a way that’s definitely going to lull him to sleep if he’s not careful.

After a minute or two, the gently scratching against his scalp stops abruptly.

“Ohshit, the shampoo– shit–” Taehyung mashes his mouth and nose against his forearm and sneezes forcefully, the sound echoing loudly in the bathroom.

“Bless you!” Calls out an angelic voice, and a moment later the shower curtain is pulled back once again to reveal Jimin’s face. Instead of his normal happy face, though, Jimin pouts in Taehyung’s direction.

“Why is it that you’re willing to wash Jungkook’s hair for him but you won’t do that for me? My shampoo isn’t even as strongly scented as his!”

“It’s his birthday,” Taehyung replies, rinsing off one hand under the shower spray before pinching his nose tightly between two fingers. “And his shampoo…it’s not– it’s not that…not that…”

Jimin rolls his eyes, watching Taehyung struggle to fight off another sneeze. “Not that bad my ass,” he murmurs, nudging Taehyung to the side so he can get into the shower with them. He kisses Jungkook on the lips, then spins him around and helps rinse out his hair.

“Happy birthday, baby.”

“I can wash and rinse my own hair, you know,” Jungkook grumbles, but he’s smiling. “Thank you.”

They finish their shower quickly after that, taking turns under the spray to rinse off, and Taehyung keeps his hand over his nose the entire time, sniffling and fidgeting but not allowing himself to sneeze again.

“Wow,” Jimin jokes as they towel off, watching Taehyung closely. “Imagine being strong enough to hold back as something as powerful as TaeTae’s sneeze.”

Jungkook snorts. “Yeah, it would be impressive if he actually could pull it off.”

Taehyung looks offended, but in the next breath he’s forced to bend in half as he’s finally overtaken by the sneeze, the expulsion ripping out of him like a scream.

“Bless you,” Jimin sighs. He kisses the tip of Taehyung’s still twitching nose and then turns to Jungkook with a smile. “I hope you have a good day today, baby. Tonight we’ll make you a special birthday dinner, okay?”

Jungkook nods and smiles back. Jimin is a first grade teacher, so he rushes off to get dressed for work, grabbing his packed lunch from the fridge afterward. He kisses Jungkook and Taehyung one last time each before heading out the door.

Taehyung works as a carpenter, and his schedule is a little more flexible. He takes his time getting dressed, pulling on worn jeans and a t-shirt while Jungkook digs through his closet for a sweater. He finds a nice blue one that goes well with his black jeans, and then pulls on a jacket and boots to complete his look. Taehyung pulls him in for a hug, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind Jungkook’s ear before releasing him and sending him out the door.

The sky is overcast and the temperature is a bit chilly, but Jungkook is in a good mood as he stops by the café for his iced coffee and then walks the remaining block to the bookstore.

He makes it less than two full hours into his day when everything goes to shit.

“Jungkook-hyung?”

The sound of his employee calling for him breaks Jungkook out of his current state, which is post-last-sip-of-ice-coffee-bliss as he checks emails on his laptop, and he jumps out of his chair, looking around frantically for Yeongsu.

“Jungkook! Help!”

Yeongsu calls for him again. He has dropped any honorifics and his voice sounds panicked. Thank fuck Jungkook has already finished his iced coffee. He hurries toward the back corner of the bookstore, trying to imagine what he’s going to find, but he doesn’t get far before he trips over something hard and falls to the ground, ankle twisting painfully as he goes down.

“Fuck!”

Jungkook cries out in pain, hunching forward so he can grab his now throbbing ankle. There are footsteps, and then Yeongsu appears above him, eyes wide.

“Hyung! What happened?!”

Jungkook sucks in a sharp breath through his mouth and bites the inside of his cheek. The pain in his ankle is unreal. He’s never broken anything before, but he has to have broken his ankle, because fuck it hurts.

“Jungkook-hyung?”

Jungkook pushes out a shaky breath and looks up at Yeongsu. He remembers that just minutes before, the younger man had been in some kind of peril himself.

“What happened with you? Why were you calling for help? Are you okay?”

“I…there was a spider,” Yeonsu answers meekly. Then, he crouches down beside Jungkook. “You should go to the emergency room, hyung. That looks bad.”

Jungkook swats Yeongsu’s outstretched hand away before he can touch his ankle. He pinches the bridge of his nose and suppresses the urge to scream.

“A spider.”

Yeongsu nods. He at least has the sense to look a bit sheepish.

“A motherfucking spider.”

“Yes, it was hu–”

“Lee Yeongsu!”

Yeongsu’s mouth snaps shut. And then opens again. And then closes when Jungkook glares at him.

“Would you like me to help you off the ground?” Yeongsu asks, standing and holding out his hand.

Jungkook looks around and grabs on to the nearest bookshelf. Ignoring Yeongsu’s offer of help, he pulls himself up to stand, keeping his weight off the injured ankle.

“Please go to the doctor. You need to ice that, at the very least.”

Jungkook carefully rolls his ankle to test it out. It hurts like a motherfucker, but the pain is already subsiding a little and he has hope that it’s not broken. He looks at Yeongsu and frowns.

“And what, leave you here by yourself? What happens if you see another spider? Hmm?”

“I’ll call Namjoon-hyung,” Yeongsu replies, then swallows thickly when Jungkook narrows his eyes. “I-I mean, I’ll handle it myself. Because I’m capable. Please, hyung, what if your ankle is broken?”

Jungkook sighs. “I will be calling you to check in every hour. And I swear, if I come in tomorrow morning and the store isn’t locked up…”

Yeongsu is nodding fervently. “I’ll remember to lock up this time, I promise!”

It takes ten more minutes of Yeongsu assuring him he’ll be fine on his own before Jungkook actually considers leaving, and another ten minutes to convince himself to actually do it. He’s not going to the emergency room, though. He’s pretty sure nothing is broken, and he doesn’t want to explain to anyone that he tripped and fell because his employee was scared of a damn spider. He’ll go home, though, and ice his ankle, and maybe catch up on book orders at home.

The walk to the bus stop is a slow, painful one. And a wet one, because the second Jungkook steps outside, the skies open up and rain starts pouring down, soaking Jungkook within seconds. By the time he gets to the bus stop, he’s cold and wet and shivering, his ankle is throbbing, and he just wants to be home.

Some birthday this is shaping up to be.

Somehow, twisting his ankle and then getting caught in the rain on the walk to the bus stop isn’t even the worst part of this day.

No, that would be the moment he reaches into his pocket for his bus pass and comes up empty. He checks his other front pocket, and then his two back pockets, and then both of his jacket pockets, but his bus pass is nowhere to be found. Then he looks in his wallet, and then pulls out his phone and stares at it like his bus pass might have gotten stuck to it. And then he checks all of his pockets again and tries not to freak the fuck out.

“I had it this morning,” he mumbles to himself, frantically panting himself down.

The bus pulls up then, and the doors open, and one person gets off. Jungkook makes eye contact with the driver, but even the kindest bus driver isn’t going to let him ride without fare, so he drops his gaze and waits until the bus pulls away before slumping against the side of the bus shelter with a frustrated sigh.

Fuck him for not bringing an umbrella or wearing a proper jacket, even.

Walking home in the rain on a busted ankle is as awful as it sounds. Jungkook is torn between wanting to go slow to minimize the pain in his ankle and wanting to go fast so he can just get home quickly. He’s so cold that it feels like his bones are cold. Every drop of rain that hits his forehead or the back of his neck is agonizing.

Seven blocks into his walk, a car drives through a puddle right next to the sidewalk and it sends an entire wall of water in Jungkook’s direction. On two good ankles, Jungkook might have been able to dodge sideways to avoid the resulting splash, but his current step has him gingerly standing on his bad ankle and all he can do is stand still and watch in horror as the water flies toward him, almost as if in slow motion, before completely drenching him from head to toe.

He’s shivering so hard he feels like he could collapse by the time he reaches his street. His mood is just getting worse and worse by the second, and he can’t wait to get inside so he can get out of his wet clothes and be miserable in his warm, dry bed instead of being miserable out here in the rain.

His nose is running profusely and it’s so cold that it almost hurts, and the constant trickle of mucus that he keeps sniffling back is starting to irritate his sinuses a lot. He feels a sneeze tickling his nose, so he lifts the collar of his sweater away from his body and tucks his mouth and nose inside, trying to cover properly. The not one, not two, but five sneezes that come out are wet and messy and make him cringe, but the resulting spray is arguably better ending up all over his chest than somewhere else. It still feels disgusting, though, and as he lets his sweater fall back against his skin he shudders. With a thick snuffle, Jungkook presses his sleeve under his dripping nostrils and desperately hopes they have tissues at home.

His teeth are chattering by the time he’s in front of his door. His fingers tremble as they grasp his key, but when he finally gets it into the lock it turns too easily, as if the door had already been unlocked. Pushing the door open slowly, he peers into the apartment, wary of there being an intruder inside.

There is someone inside his apartment. Two someones, and they stare at him, mouths dropping open, mid-hanging up a banner that reads Happy Birthday! across the hallway.

“Kookie?” Jimin jumps down from the chair he’s on and rushes over, but Taehyung stays frozen in place, staring at him in shock.

“W-what the fuc–” Jungkook is cut off by a set of three tremendous sneezes that he barely catches in the crook of his elbow, and the action nearly throws him off balance. He leans his back against the wall and tries to stay upright.

“Oh! Bless you. You’re all…wet?” Jimin reaches up to run his fingers through Jungkook’s dripping hair. “Why are you soaking wet and why are you home so early?”

Jungkook sniffles and huffs a breath out through his mouth.

“Why are you two home so early?” He asks, even though it’s pretty obvious based on the banner and the balloons in the corner that he’s just now noticing. He had initially thought it to be a bit odd when all four of their friends had claimed to be busy tonight when Jimin and Taehyung invited them over last week, but now it makes a lot of sense.

“Surprise?” Taehyung finally says, brain catching up to the situation. He jumps down off the chair and comes over to stand next to Jimin. He gets right up in Jungkook’s personal space, eyebrows knitting together as he watches Jungkook shiver and wrap his arms around himself.

“You’re shivering,” Taehyung notes, voice full of concern, and Jungkook has to put a hand against his chest to push him away a little because he’s about to sneeze again.

“Fuck,” he hisses after he sneezes, because he’d accidentally put full weight on his ankle in favor of not falling over and it hurts.

The next thing he knows, he’s sliding down the wall until he’s on the floor, his bad ankle stretched out in front of him, and his eyes are hot and his head hurts and his ankle hurts and his nose hurts–

“Don’t cry, baby,” Jimin urges, kneeling down in front of him and brushing his thumb under Jungkook’s eyes to wipe the tears that are now falling. “Oh, what’s wrong?”

“My ankle,” Jungkook whimpers, and then he’s sobbing, loud, wet wrenching sounds that come straight from his chest. He feels a hand pull up the leg of his jeans, careful fingers brushing over his skin, and then Jimin touches his face again, impossibly gentle and soft.

“What happened, Kookie?”

Taehyung is taking off his boots and Jimin is stroking down his cheek and Jungkook can’t do anything but sob.

“I’ll run him a hot bath,” Jimin says after a moment, leaning forward first to press his lips to Jungkook’s forehead. “Will you carry him into the bathroom?”

Jimin disappears down the hall, and Jungkook can hear the sound of the water being turned on in the bathtub. Taehyung scoops him up off the floor, careful not to jostle his ankle too much, and carries him down the hall like he weighs nothing despite the fact that Jungkook has a good six or seven kilograms on the older man.

In the bathroom, Taehyung sits Jungkook down on the toilet seat and squats down in front of him to check out his ankle.

“It’s swollen, but I don’t think it’s broken or anything,” he says to Jimin. “I’m not a doctor though. Do you think we should take him in?”

Jimin bites his lip. “Let’s wait a bit, see how it’s doing after we elevate and ice it for a couple of hours.”

Once the tub is full, Jimin turns off the water, and Jungkook peels off his wet clothes. He has stopped crying, but his face is still wet with tears. He allows Jimin and Taehyung to help him into the bath, shivering as his chilled skin is submerged under water. The hot water does wonders to warm him up, though it makes his nose run tenfold to breathe in the steam. He keeps his foot up on the edge of the tub, so his toes are a little cold, but he knows it’s best for the swelling in his ankle. He lets his head fall back, feeling exhausted and completely drained of all energy.

Just outside the bathroom door, he can hear Jimin and Taehyung whispering. He doesn’t catch all of what they’re saying, but he can hear that they’re talking about him and the party they had planned for him tonight, and it makes him feel sad to know they planned something for him and will now probably have to cancel it. There’s a sudden lump in his throat, and he lifts his head, bringing a hand up to rub at his eyes to stop the tears that are welling up again.

When Jimin and Taehyung come back into the bathroom, Jungkook sniffles wetly and leans his head back against the edge of the tub, closing his eyes so he doesn’t have to make eye contact and see the disappointment in their eyes. He hears Taehyung make a low, sad sound, and then someone is beside him, their hand coming up to push Jungkook’s hair off his forehead.

He cracks one eye open and sees that they’re both kneeling at the side of the tub now. Jimin is closest, and he’s holding up a dry washcloth, one eyebrow raised as if in question.

“Why don’t you blow your nose, sweetheart?” He says, bringing the washcloth to Jungkook’s nose. “You’re starting to sound stuffy.”

Jungkook’s face flushes in embarrassment, and Jimin, noticing his hesitation, dabs the washcloth under his nostrils like it’s no big deal he’s literally wiping the nose of another full grown person. Jungkook does really need to blow his nose, but he can’t bring himself to do it when Jimin is the one holding the washcloth, and he’s grateful that Jimin doesn’t push further. When Jimin is done, he folds the washcloth and sets it on the edge of the tub, then dips his hand into the water to check the temperature.

“The water is starting to cool. Let’s get you washed up and then you can get out of there.”

Taehyung switches places with Jimin, leaning over Jungkook to kiss his temple before settling back on his knees.

“I get to wash your hair twice today,” Taehyung says, his smile wide. “Lucky me.”

He reaches out for Jungkook’s shampoo bottle, but Jungkook stops him with a hand on his arm.

“No.” Jungkook shakes his head. “I don’t need you to wash my hair. You already did that this morning, and my shampoo bothers you anyway, and–”

“Jungkookie,” Taehyung interrupts, voice firm. “I would snort your shampoo straight up my nose every day for the rest of my life if it means I get to take care of you like this, okay? Just let me do this one thing for you, love.”

His ridiculous statement makes Jungkook laugh wetly, and he takes his hand off of Taehyung’s arm. When Taehyung flips open the top of the shampoo bottle, it’s Jungkook who lets out a string of sneezes, to all of their surprise.

“Kookie, baby,” Jimin says. “Did you catch yourself a cold out there in the rain? You’ve been sniffling and sneezing since you got home.”

Jungkook shrugs, because he’s positive that’s exactly what happened but he doesn’t want it to be true, because that would just make this shitty day even worse.

“You poor thing,” Jimin coos.

“I don’t wanna catch a cold,” Jungkook sniffles. “I don’t wanna have a twisted ankle.” And then he’s crying again, tears running down his cheeks, and Jimin is pulling the plug to drain the tub while Taehyung pets his wet hair and kisses his temple again.

“It’s okay, Jungkookie,” Taehyung whispers. “We’ll wash your hair tomorrow. Let’s get you into some warm clothes.”

The two of them help Jungkook out of the tub and then help him dry off, and then they each get one of his arms around their shoulders so they can help him into the bedroom.

“Would you like to rest a bit?” Taehyung asks once he’s dressed in sweatpants and a hoodie, and Jungkook nods.

It’s only 3 p.m. Jungkook crawls to his spot in the middle of the bed and all but collapses onto his back. Taehyung pulls the comforter up to his chin, and Jimin lifts the blanket at the other end to slide a pillow under Jungkook’s ankle. They forgo an ice pack, because now that he’s out of the bath, Jungkook is shivering again.

“Do you want cuddles?” Jimin asks, and Jungkook bites his lip to keep it from quivering and nods.

Jimin and Taehyung crawl into bed and wrap their arms around his waist. Taehyung smooths his hair back, his fingers running soothingly through his damp locks, and Jimin rubs lazy circles on his stomach. It feels nice, to be cuddled like this, even though he feels rather miserable. Jungkook really does feel stuffy now, his breath whistling in and out of his nose, and the congestion is making him have to breathe out of his mouth. He closes his eyes and tries to focus on Jimin and Taehyung’s touches instead of the fact that his head is now hurting too.

Happy fucking birthday, Jungkook thinks to himself as he drifts off to sleep, his nose stuffed up and his ankle throbbing and his eyes swollen from crying.

At least he has the comfort and the warmth of his two boyfriends on either side of him.

#sickfic #sick jungkook #bts sickfic #bts snz #jungkook whump #catching a cold from being in the rain #because that's my favorite #part two where seokjin yoongi hoseok and namjoon still come over that evening to celebrate jungkooks birthday and help take care of him #huh?#what?#bookstore owner jungkook #teacher jimin #carpenter taehyung #jungkook/jimin/taehyung #poly relationship

46 notes · View notes

ibreathhere · 10 months

Text

Jungkook is my favorite English teacher. Let me tell you with my stupid dyslexia I can't remember the month and days in order not in Spanish and it's even worse in English. But at this rate with Seven I'll know my seven days of the week in order, just give me time.

#bts #seven #jungkook #jungkook seven #bts seven #kpop #he'll beat the dyslexia out of me #thanks teacher

7 notes · View notes

amiharana · 1 year

Text

all the above apply to me, more context in tags, rb if you vote it would be neat

#amihan's shitposts #1. visited the homeland at 7 yrs old & went into ocean to walk to a raft → jellyfish in water → stung #2. mimikyu my beloved & my son william the torchic #3. the teacher let me pass it around for everyone to see then made me put them outside (i kept the worms in the bag)#4. my aunt sent me a 4ft tall cardboard cutout of bts jungkook and he just stares at me when i'm in bed #5. watched wreck-it ralph 17x as a child my mother hated me and my brother fr #6. i hate the feel of certain fabrics on my skin so i have to wear smthn soft under if i wear problem clothing #7. skipped chem to fly to vegas for bts ptd concerts LOL i passed with an A dw

12 notes · View notes

koolibrary · 1 year

Link

Chapters: 8/8 Fandom: 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Min Yoongi | Suga/Park Jimin Characters: Park Jimin (BTS), Min Yoongi | Suga, Jeon Jungkook, Kim Namjoon | RM, Kim Taehyung | V, Kim Seokjin | Jin, Jeon Jungkook's Parents, Original Characters Additional Tags: Established Relationship, Alternate Universe - Teachers, Kid Jeon Jungkook, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Jeon Jungkook is Trying His Best, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Light Angst, at least I think it’s light angst, Idol Park Jimin (BTS), Teacher Min Yoongi | Suga, Kid Fic, Found Family, Chatting & Messaging, Everyone Loves Jeon Jungkook, Min Yoongi | Suga is Good at Feelings, Park Jimin is Bad at Feelings (BTS), Hurt/Comfort, Orphans, Adoption, Teddy Bears, Cute Kids, Happy Ending Series: Part 5 of All my little commission gems Summary:

“So, does this mean we’re not strangers anymore?” he asks and predictably the boy nods his head. “Because you know my favourite colour?”

The boy, Kookie, looks a little like a bobble head with the way he’s nodding so much. “Bananas are yellow.”

“They are,” approves Jimin. “It’s nice to meet you, Kookie, I’m Jimin by the way.”

“Jimin-ssi likes yellow,” Kookie responds. “He’s not a stranger.”

(OR: Jimin comes to adore a little boy at his husband’s school who is in serious need of some tender love and care.)

#personal fav #cried #yoonmin #yoonmin fic #kid jungkook #baby jungkook #angst #fluff #found family #adoption #idol jimin #teacher yoongi #parents yoonmin

8 notes · View notes

explicit-tae · 1 year

Text

Cruel World (Mommy Issues)

It’s sad your brother wasted all this time getting into college just to be expelled.

Word Count: 1.845

Warning: yandere themes, stalking, cruelty to animals, cheating, unprotected sex, kissing, dirty talking, mommy kink,

@seokjinkismet @bloodline1632 @pointofviewyugyeom @yoongixthot @taetaecatboy @ultimatebasura @jlatbh @lilliankoo @btsw1fe @bxcndd @mageprincess7

You never intended on staying with Jungkook for as long as you had. It wasn't longer than a week - how the two of you managed to come to and from the University was beyond you. But you made it work. Seokjin had managed to keep his distance from you just as you managed to do the same. There had been several instances where you desired to call him, but you're unsure what there is to be said. He stormed off out of your classroom and left you there stranded, after all.

You're unsure how you should feel when it comes to Seokjin and him going under the vasectomy. Could you truly be angry at him? You wanted children but he was adamant that he didn't. He never has lied to you about this - not until when it came to the surgery. A part of you feels selfish for feeling the way you do. You laid with Jungkook day after day, allowing him to fuck you however he wanted and hold you right after. It wasn't fair for Seokjin to get a vasectomy without your knowledge - but neither was you going against your marriage with an affair.

Your lips place themselves onto Jungkook's, moaning into the warm kiss as your hips jut. His cock deepens inside of you, twitching at your wet walls. Jungkook is the first to break the kiss, no longer able to contain the moan in his throat. The comforter falls from your shoulders when you lean back, your naked bad hitting the coolness of the air. Your hips begin to jut once more, hands roaming Jungkook's naked chest. You can feel his hands lazily lay on your hips as you continue to ride him.

No matter how many times you and Jungkook had sex, your pussy always captivates him. It traps him - as if he was caught in your web and unable to get himself out. But Jungkook didn't want to not be a part of you - not be around you; inside you. He's a stuttering mess as you bounce on top of him, spewing out love confessions and dirty words.

Your phone begins to ring loudly, vibrating along on Jungkook's nightstand. You release a sigh, your high slowly dwindling. You remove yourself from Jungkook and snatch your phone. You clicked your tongue and answer the phone.

You don't speak, neither does Seokjin at first. You could hear him breathing on the other line.

"Y/N." Seokjin calls from the other end.

"Jin." you respond, sparking Jungkook's attention.

"Come home." Seokjin sighs. "We need to talk..."

You agreed. You turn towards Jungkook and the look in your eyes tell him what you were going to do.

"I'll be there soon." you tell him, eyes never leaving Jungkook. The man snickers lowly to himself while you bid your farewell to your husband. He sits back against the headboard and watch as you remove yourself from his bed.

You go to gather your fallen clothes scattered across Jungkook's bedroom floor. You don't appear to be in a rush, Jungkook notes. However, you're leaving regardless - leaving him like you did that day months ago. It saddens him, but he refuses to show it. He had to prove to you that he was a man, not a crying boy on his knees begging you to stay.

"Is this it?" you hear Jungkook behind you. He sounds dangerously close, and you never heard him coming. "You're going back to him? You're going to forget everything we have?"

You sigh inaudibly. It was easier said than done when it comes to leaving Jungkook. You're unsure how'd he react. Your classroom being ruined was a hefty clean up, nor did you wish to see him cry his eyes out once more.

You turn towards Jungkook. He towers over you, both still naked, and meets your eyes. He waits for an answer, and you're unsure exactly what to tell him. "Seokjin-" you stop when you remember Jungkook doesn't like you saying his name. "my husband...he's, my husband."

Jungkook snickers once more. He wears a smile, but it isn't genuine. He doesn't want to cry or scream and shout at you. He doesn't want to ruin him bedroom in a jealous rage - not anymore.

"Okay." Jungkook shrugs. "If you want to go back to him then I will no longer fight you."

Your heart sinks. You don't know how to respond to Jungkook. You don't wish to hurt him - but you've already have. You continue to hurt him by leading him on in thinking there could ever be anything outside of sex.

"Just be with me one last time." Jungkook pleads. He reaches out to place a hand on your check, thumb lightly tracing the outline of your lips. "Then you can go and pretend to be in love with your useless husband."

"I do love him." you respond, but you allow Jungkook to come closer. You feel his lips on your neck, placing small pecks.

"I'm sure you do." Jungkook murmurs against your skin. He doesn't care to hear you lie to him and yourself. You may love your husband sure - but you weren't in love with him. Not when you came back to him each time.

You're unsure how you and Jungkook sat beneath his shower, hot water staining your skin. Time passes by with Jungkook - sometimes it appears as a blur, and most times it goes by slowly. You often forget the outside world when you're with the younger man.

Jungkook lifts you, so that your back is against the cold, tiled wall. But his cock centers itself at your entrance, teasing not only you, but him.

Jungkook connects his lips to yours, moaning into the steamy kiss. He has no intentions of truly letting you go, however, there isn't a reason for you to know. He would savor in this moment of having you.

You moan into the kiss as Jungkook's cocks enters you. He pumps into you at a slow pace, truly reveling in your essence. His forehead lays upon yours.

You're sure neither of you were going to last long, not now. The sex is passionate - it was a goodbye. It was ridiculous to do such a thing as you were a married woman - and you would continue to see him as he was your student. However, it was time to allow Jungkook to go. You couldn't allow him to be manipulated by you and waste away his young life hoping you'd be with him.

"You're so good to me, baby." you moan, nails digging into Jungkook's shoulders. You're clenching around him as he continues to thrust inside of you.

"I could be better." Jungkook groans, eyes clenched shut. Your pussy feels amazing, but it never not does. He would be content in just having you and just you. "I could do anything you ask from me, mommy."

"I just..." you bite your lip to keep yourself from moaning. "....want you to make mommy cum."

And Jungkook does. He releases you from his embrace and turns you around. Your breast and now pressed against the tile wall. Jungkook enters you without warning and begins to pound inside of you - loud moans and grunts. Jungkook is lucky to live alone. His abdomen is slapping against your ass as he fucks inside of you. Your moans you once attempted to hide becomes louder.

Jungkook enters the small apartment then proceeds to close the door behind him. He doesn't make it far into the apartment before he feels something at his feet, rubbing against his ankles. His eyes cast downward to the small animal - an orange cat - sniffing him. He leans down and grabs it into his arms. He offers the cat a smile before entering deeper into the apartment.

Jungkook was on a mission, after all. He didn't take lightly to disrespect - and disrespect he was given. You were someone he would let slide time and time again - you are ignoring his phone calls and messages, that was alright. You refusing to look his way when he was around, he can handle. But to have Jimin - not only your younger brother but also a fellow alumnus - threaten him? That wasn't what he took lightly.

How in the world Jimin knew of your and Jungkook's little affair, he wouldn't know. But it wasn't as though he could even ask. You had changed your number over time, the one you had before, telling him that you could not be reached. You had also requested Jungkook be removed from your classroom. But you didn't tell the board that it was because you were fucking him. No, it was because, by your quote, "Jungkook is beyond advance to be in my class. I will allow him to have the credit needed to graduate when the time comes."

Jungkook enters the kitchens and rummages through the cabinet and fridges. He scoffs at the amount of food Jimin had - which wasn't a lot. He nearly forgets how other people live with less money.

"Ah," Jungkook takes hold of the cookie dough he finds in the fridge. "I love chocolate chip cookies. Don't you?" he asks the cat, who doesn't do anything but stare back at him.

Jungkook turns the over on and rummages around the cabinets for a small pan. He places four small doughs upon the pan and places it inside the oven. He then proceeds to stroll towards Jimin's bedroom. He drops the cat onto Jimin's bed - a small twin size bed at that - and his eyes twinkles at the site of his laptop - open, with what seems to be an essay on his screen.

It was Jungkook's lucky day, it seems. He didn't care for Jimin the same way he cared for you. Ruining your life wasn't he desired to do. He had countless videos of the two of you, but he sat on them. You would come to him without the blackmail, surely.

However, Jimin's life and likelihood wasn't something he cared for.

Plagiarizing the essay wasn't hard. He already had a copy he needed - the same one you entered years prior for the same class. Surely you being a professor at the same University your brother attends, it would be quite easy for him to get his hands on your essay.

Jungkook hits send just as the alarm on the oven sounds. "Cookies are done, kitty." Jungkook makes his way into the kitchen, cat in tow. He grasps a small towel and takes out the freshly baked cookies.

The cat meows and Jungkook hums. He kneels down after placing the hot tray upon the stove. "You're a cute one." he murmurs, picking up the cat and rubbing its head. "You must be wondering why I'm here."

The cat meows as if responding to Jungkook.

"The things you do for love." Jungkook shakes his head. "And vengeance." he says before placing the cat inside of the oven and closing it. He chooses to ignore the squeals coming from inside of it. He proceeds to grab his cookies and make his way out.

Sad Girl (Next)

#bangtanwritershq #btsmasterlist2022 #btswritersclub #bts smut #bangtan smut #bts yandere #btswritingcafe #bangtanwriters net #cruel world #mommy issues #explict-tae #yandere jungkook #jungkook x reader #bts teacher au #jungkook smut #jimin brother

397 notes · View notes

fartsong · 1 year

Text

I think i have pica

i ate sewing needles. actual sewing needles. in my mouth. I CHEWED THEM????

This has been going on for a while i've eaten the felt tip out of an expo marker in class and i got sent home for it ( my teacher was really mad i dont like her)

I have to go to the doctor now but im scared because i have a fear of needles

#mental disorder #mentally exhausted #mental heath support #fortnite #bigfoot #bisexual #aromanitc #jungkook smut #i hate my teacher #extreme metal #ouch ouch ouch #disease #black cats

15 notes · View notes

jeon-s-sins · 1 year

Text

Middle of the Night | Part Two

Word count : 5.8 k

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

↤ Previous | Index │ ☕️

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Please, sit down."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Well, one more thing."

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

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

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

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

Stay calm, and everything will be fine.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Come what may.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I like the way you squirm for me."

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

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

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

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

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

#jk smut #jeon s sins #jungkook x reader #middle of the night #yaya #jk one shots #bts #teacher/student #jk incubus #jk demon

82 notes · View notes