#And he's her teacher in this unhinged au so :')

[elidrawsthings]

I also DID draw Sonson in the style again along with a very unhinged au of mine lmfao Screenshot redraws and imitating the style in general is so much fun

#Sonson #Qi Xiaotian #Marvel Vs Capcom 2 #Lego Monkie Kid #Also the one where he's dodging a kick from her is a ref to that cutscene in SF6 where Chun-Li dodges Li-Fen's kick bc I thought it was cut #And he's her teacher in this unhinged au so :')

[junghelioseok]

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

[jazzmasternot]

Hazbin hotel college AU head cannons

Note: decided to write these out after reading @sprainedwriting’s fanfic about Adam being a frat boy and I took that concept and ran with it.

Obviously this is based off of my own university experience where I attend a really big public university in the southern US. so that’s where my takes are coming from.

This is also my first time writing anything on here so there’s that aswell.

Charlie

Majors in musical theatre, but not performance education. She wants to be the unhinged theatre teacher that everyone loves. Lives in one of those really fancy student apartment lofts with keke. And is part of the cat club where she feeds the cats on campus

Vaggie

She probably does something super hard like biomedical engineering (let’s go women in stem!) which takes up allot of her time already. Is also an RA for one of the dorms on campus which is good for her bc free housing and gets paid to do her homework at the front desk. Met Charlie in an English class and have been together ever since. When she’s not on call she’s spending the night at Charlie’s and Charlie’s almost always sitting at the front desk with vaggie even tho she doesn’t work or live at the dorm and no one says anything bc it’s just not that deep.

Alastor

Majors in audio engineering and runs the campus radio station that people definitely still listen too. He went to community college first then transferred to a four year (to save money ofc) and is a commuter where he still lives with his mom. Does work study where he works the front desk of the library where he does his homework and works on his scripts for his radio show. Has no interest in working with Vox since he runs the tv channel simply bc he doesn’t want all that extra work. Still takes his notes on pen and paper and still has a nightmare of a time figuring out to electronically submit all his assignments and take his tests.

Angel dust

Okay so hear me out he majors in math ikik it sounds crazy but every gay math major I’ve ever met acts just like Angel dust. Goes to raves and frat parties even tho the guys don’t want him there but he always brings girls with him so the kinda have to let him in. Does nude modeling for extra cash at the art school so he’s kinda a celeb over there even tho he’s not in anyway related to that major.

Husk

Majors in Restaurant and hotel management and is one of those college students that are in their late twenties so already has more life experience than most other ppl here so he doesn’t do allot of the stupid college that allot of other ppl do. Lives in some off campus apartment that’s just a large house rented out to students made to look like a apartment (yk the ones in talking abt) works at the dive bar located just off campus that everyone goes to atleast once in their four years.

Sir pentious

Majors in mechanical engineering or industrial design I can’t really decided. Definitely uses the 3D printer all the time and is on the robotics team, which wins every competition they go to.

Nifty

She’s changed her major so many times nobody knows anymore. Is part of the kpop club and has biases complete with intricately decorated covers, like she has so many photo cards. Also runs the campus hotties account where it’s just a bunch of candids of cute guys taken from far away. Will also get really pissed if you don’t wash your dishes bc it will attract bugs so if ur her roommate you better do the dam dishes.

Cherry bomb

Art major and is the one who got Angel the nude modeling gig. Is always pulling all nighters bc she kept postponing the assimgment till the last minute. Has probably vandalized a couple buildings surrounding the university but hasn’t been caught. Goes to raves and the aforementioned frat parties with Angel. Also has a traffic cone in her dorm room for no other reason than just bc.

Vox

Majors in multi media marketing, runs the campus tv and YouTube channel. Definitely the president of a frat that inflates his ego more than it already is. Always at sporting events at the front row with all the frat guys giving everyone the inside scoop and game commentary. Is very pissed that alastor won’t work with him. Treats himself like a campus celebrity even tho ppl could care less and are just trying to get their degree.

Valentino

majors in film and media productions yeah he’s one of those. Always asking if you’ve seen pulp fiction and telling you that you need to watch some random black and white movie that’s only in French. Will definitely invite you over to watch something with you but we all know that’s not the case. Also all his film projects has allot of unnecessary nudity and sex under the guise of artistic expression, even when it’s so not relevant to the plot. Unless it’s a film that he’s making for the university in which case Vox is controlling every aspect of it which in this case is a good thing. Smokes in his dorm room without a care in the world and has really loud inconsiderate sex at any random point in the 24 hour day cycle.

Velvette

Majors in public relations and runs the university’s Instagram account. She’s always walking up to ppl with a lil microphone to ask you to tell us what you’re wearing. Speaking off she always comes to class dressed up (like the international students) no leggings and tennis shoes for her. Also is definitely in a divine nine sorority, and runs their insta too.

Carmilla

She’s a professor for the aerospace engineering dept and shes here bc she got sick of making rockets for Lockheed Martin and reatheon. Hella smart and ppl are baffled that she chose to give up a seven figure job to teach a bunch of college kids but she’s so chill abt it tho.

Zestial

Definitely English lit professor, makes you read the books no one’s heard of and not the classics. Always brings his own open regular coffee mug from his house to sip his tea from instead of a thermos, everyone asks how he doesn’t spill it on his ride to work. Also just straight up has an electric kettle in his office so he can have tea whenever he wants. Takes turns with carmilla eating lunch in each other’s offices.

Rosie

Studies agriculture sciences and food processing. Will probably run a slaughter house when she’s done with her degree. Hangs out with Alastor in his radio booth from time to time just to gossip about whatever drama is going around lately. Wears long skirts and a tote bag all the time. Is always sweet to Charlie and Emily, also loathes Vox just as much as Alastor she just finds him annoying.

Lucifer

Is probably a religion professor that’s not religious at all and is super laid back in his class like one easy discussion board post a week. The kinda guy to be like “it’s so nice out let’s have class outside today guys” or “if I make this shot ur all getting extra credit on the quiz this week”.

Adam

Definitely majors in finance and is a frat boy. And his band plays at all the said frat parties. Is very insufferable to talk to at parties will try tell you how crypto is the currency of the future and how wolf of Wall Street is his favorite movie. Has a Saturdays are for the boys flag in his room and navy blue sheets. Oh did I mention he vapes he definitely vapes those Mike Tyson ones that taste awful and look like bricks yeah those. Always gets drunk at the tailgate way before the game is even started.

Lute

Yeah she’s in premed and wants everyone to know she’s better than you bc of it. Everyone else’s major is easy compared to hers so don’t you dare complain about all your assignments in her vicinity. She’s basically made it her whole identity like she’s in the premed honors society, future doctors of America. Types her notes on her laptop and then rewrites them with all her gel pens and fancy highlighters, like thee be so colorfull and pretty then the title would be something like blood clots. Still friends with Adam bc they went to the same highschool together and always helping him with his homework in turn he gets her into the tailgate tents and frat parties so she always gets free alcohol.

Emily

Majors in Elementary education and looks like it too, with the Stanley cup, James Avery charm bracelet, and all. She also takes super pretty notes but she does them in class which is super power all in itself, like her desk is scattered with gel pens and highlighters of every color and swears by her bullet journal. She also feeds the cats on campus with Charlie and runs the arts and crafts club on campus where they always host events like tote bag painting in the grass area of the university. Also doesn’t drink bc she’s not twenty one yet even tho she’s in college and definitely won’t smoke even tho most of the ppl that show up to her events are total potheads

Sera

She’s like the university president who doesn’t actually GAF abt the students and just fund’s athletics and raises tuition every year under miscellaneous fees. She tries to come off as supportive when she’s out in public but no one’s buying it.

#the greeks had socrates y’all have me #I also wrote this while I was at work #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel self insert #hazbin hotel headcanon #hazbin hotel au #hazbin hotel college au #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin hotel alastor #charlie hazbin hotel #vaggie hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel rosie #nifty hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lute #adam hazbin hotel #lucifer hazbin hotel #zestial hazbin hotel #valentino hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel velvette #emily hazbin hotel #cherri bomb #cherri bomb hazbin hotel #sir pentious #carmilla carmine #sera hazbin hotel

[hyunnieshannie]

Suspended | KSM

🖤: Seungmin x AFAB Reader 🖊️: 10k 🖼️: Check out the Mood Board! 🚨: Teacher AU, unprotected sex, use of sextoys, bdsm themes - rope play/impact play/blindfolds/handcuffs, choking, edging (so much edging i practically edged myself while writing the smut-K), cumming multiple times, pet names (angel/pup & sir), sexual harassment in the workplace, use of light system (reader uses: yellow), crying (from overwhelming amounts of pleasure *wink wonk*), corruption kink if you squint - methinks that's it, if we missed anything please let us know- If you think we proofread this, no we didn't - M ♡: I hope you all know this took us SEVEN MONTHS to write- WHY did it take us Seven months? WHO KNOWS?? But it did. LIKE LOOK AT THIS SCREENSHOT THAT WAS WHEN WE STARTED THIS. anyways We hope you enjoy our little teacher Seungmin one shot. Please Reblog and let us know what you thought <3

There's something both satisfying and annoying about teaching and shaping the young minds of the new generation. Sure, you’re someone who most kids look up to. You have the honor of making an impact on their lives. Maybe they'll remember you in the future, maybe not. Either way, you're ultimately the one who helped prepare them for life outside of these high school walls you teach within. As much as you revel in this fact now, high school was a place you never wanted to return to. Within the walls of the high school live rowdy, unhinged, chaotic minds mixed with a splash of calm, put-together minds; and that only explains the student body. 

The staff on the other hand, well they’re on another level of unhinged and chaotic, though somehow put together enough to be able to contain themselves and careful to never unleash those thoughts on another member of staff- for obvious reasons. Sexual harassment claims, being fired over the smallest of flirting, let alone the fact that if anything escalated beyond such, you could expect the cops to parade you through the halls, with the curious eyes of the students all watching as you’re taken away. In any case, it was always best to stay away from any sort of relationship with a coworker. No matter what. 

Students, on the other side of the spectrum, never hid their relationships. You couldn’t count how many times you’d found students making out against their hallway lockers, running off to do god-knows-what in the staircase at the back of the school- or worse, when you’d be called to explain why student A and student B are being suspended, after being caught having sex in the washroom. Unfortunately for you, today was one of those days. 

The two students sitting directly in front of you seemed to show zero hint of remorse,  for, quite literally, being caught in the act during the middle of second period. Could they really not wait until after classes? It wasn’t until both sets of parents had filed into the room that the students began to look embarrassed. “Welcome,” you sighed as you arose from your seat to shake the parents' hands. They were agitated, clearly disappointed and rightfully so. You didn’t get too graphic about the details of the suspension, as the printed notice would detail everything anyway. The parents read over everything carefully.

The father of student A scowled at his son. “I’m sorry for the actions of my son,” He muttered, as he ripped his son from the chair he sat on. “This is beyond unacceptable and we will make sure he has learned his lesson.” Their verbal assault launched as your student was dragged through the somewhat empty school and you just barely caught the words "embarrassment" and "disgrace" as their voices faded down the halls. Student B sat quietly as she watched her mother read through the printout. Signing her name and passing the flimsy sheet of paper to her daughter to sign, in acknowledgement for her wrongdoings, they spoke not a word, but the anger radiating from them was enough indication that she would receive a thorough talking once out of the eyes of the school's principal and yourself. 

It was, undoubtedly, one of the longest days of the year. Not that there was any reasonable explanation, such as a time change or anything. No- it was simply just a day full of students who had decided that this particular day would be the best to ‘act up’. You often wondered why students who were caught by you seemed to think they would magically get away with their actions. Why your students lacked basic respect for you until the moment you smacked down the hammer, clearly marking the line between friendship and an authority figure. Sure, you’re one of the younger teachers in the school, but none of the others seemed to have this issue with their students. Hell, even the two students from just now thought they were merely getting a slap on the wrist for their actions- never expecting you to follow through with your threat of calling their parents in. Did they truly not expect you to do so? Could they really have thought you’d just speak to them, and tell them a small ‘Don’t do it again’? 

As you meandered through the empty halls of the school, you wondered why you had even taken up this job. You had barely finished your degree and mostly hoped to be working with children of elementary age. Children, though energetic and clumsy, still seemed like less work than a class full of twenty-eight, moody teenagers all in the age range of fifteen to sixteen. Somehow an elementary school still seemed like it would have more order than this mess of a high school. You know the curriculum, you’re a good teacher- Credit where credit is due, and surely you deserved it. When your students did in fact listen- instead of making snarky remarks about you that they thought you wouldn’t hear- they would pass tests and exams with flying colors. So what was it you were doing oh-so-wrong to deserve passing comments such as ‘Can I get your number?’  or the boy's new favorite ‘Mommy? Sorry. Mommy?’

The moment you reached the faculty room, you threw yourself on the couch face first, thinking you were completely alone as you’d seen no one when you walked in, you let out the loudest scream your lungs could manage into one of the throw pillows. “WHY” you wailed, allowing the pillow to muffle your desperate cries for answers. 

“Rough day?” a voice says with a light chuckle. Slowly you lift your head to see another staff member standing alone by the coffee maker. You drop your head in embarrassment as you have now learned, you were indeed not alone when you let out that blood-curdling scream. “Miss. Y/L/N. Are you alright?” He said as he approached you. Leave it to one bad day, for you to not be fully aware of your surroundings and to let out such a scream in front of the ‘most perfect’ teacher this school has ever had. He’s a very intelligent man, there has never been a problem that he couldn’t fix. He’s polite, well-spoken and could practically substitute for any teacher in the school. He had a teaching degree, as well as a few others that he had picked up ‘for fun’. Not only was he all of that and more, but of course he also happened to be around your age, perfect. He made everyone else, including senior staff, look like they had done nothing productive with themselves. You let out a soft laugh into the pillow, as the realization that he had caught you in a mental war finally began to sink in. 

“Mr. Kim,” you say as you hastily sit up to save what little pride you had left. To be laying on the couch would be one thing- but the way you were planted with your head buried in a pillow was another. How embarrassing. “What are you still doing here? It’s well past school hours.” He smirks as he lifts his coffee cup in the air as if to say ‘Cheers’ 

“Had a few tests to grade,” he chuckles, bringing his mug to his lips and taking a sip of the steaming coffee. Your gaze settles on his hands wrapped around the mug, the mug looking small in his hands. You watch as he sips on the liquid and swallows it, making his Adam's apple bob up and down again. God, he’s stupidly beautiful. “And how about yourself Miss. Y/L/N, what are you doing here well past school hours?” He repeats the words back to you, raising a brow in a teasing manner. 

“Caught two students again,” you sigh, “I can’t even think of one good reason for them to be doing such things in the washroom, during school hours much less.” You slump further into the couch, rubbing your temples in annoyance. 

“You tend to draw the short straw every time huh?” Seungmin chuckles as he sips some more of his coffee. He keeps his eyes trained on you as you close your eyes, rubbing your head. He smirks to himself as he approaches you cautiously. 

“Unfortunately.” You groan, rubbing your hands over your face and leaning forward, elbows resting on your knees. 

“Would you like to talk about it?” He pulls a chair up as he gets closer, swiftly shifting the chair so he can sit on it backwards, taking another sip of his damn coffee. Fuck, the bare minimum and its too motherfucking sexy. 

“Don’t you have papers to grade?” You eye him unsure if you really want to waste his time complaining if he has more important things to do. You’re also not entirely sure you want to talk about the whole thing anyway. 

“They can wait, you on the other hand look stressed.” 

“I don’t know Mr. Kim, I think it’s a bit beyond stress if you ask me.” You sigh again. “I think- I’m just tired and frustrated?” 

“Tired and frustrated, heavy combination.” he nods in understanding. “I feel as if catching students in the act isn’t what’s making you so tired and confused though.” 

“No, I mean yes- but not really.” You admit and Seungmin gives you a questioning look. You again sigh, “It’s the disrespect I receive, Mr. Kim. It’s overwhelming, and to be quite frank - annoying.” 

“I mean yes, doing such a thing on school grounds is disrespectful, but I wouldn’t take it personally Miss. Y/L/N.” Seungmin says as he takes another sip from his mug. 

“I don’t take that kind of thing personally Mr. Kim,” you laugh lightly. “I am genuinely constantly disrespected by my students, your students - at some points it feels like it’s the whole school.” You sigh in defeat. Seungmin is now sitting up straighter, he’s got a look of surprise. He seems genuinely confused at your statement. 

“How have they been disrespecting you?” He asks in concern. He desperately needs to know what the fuck the students have been saying about you. “Have they said something to you? Done something? Anything my students have done Miss. Y/L/N, I must know in order to speak to them accordingly.” You let out a light chuckle, shaking your head, and resting your chin on your palms. 

“Where do I start Mr. Kim? Would you like the comments on my body or should I tell you which students have attempted at grabbing my-” You stop yourself before finishing that thought, laughing at the ridiculousness of the situation. “In all honesty Mr. Kim, it doesn’t matter to me anymore. Perhaps after this year, I’ll resign.” At this point, you are so done with this school and you are so ready to quit and leave this school, it isn't doing your mental health any justice. As you are contemplating your future, Seungmin is reeling, he doesn't understand how his students have been saying such horrible things to you.  

“You can’t resign Y/N-” Seungmin says quickly, almost jumping out of his chair. He shocks himself from his sudden outburst, clearing his throat and smoothing his tie. Why would he drop the niceties? “I mean-” He runs his hand through his hair. “Miss. Y/L/N, the school would suffer a great loss if you were to resign.”

“How do you figure Mr. Kim?” you give him a questioning look. You truthfully thought that no one would really miss you, so why is he so adamant that you stay?

“Well, for one your students tend to have the highest grades in the school, which is no easy task.” He looks around the room as if to find the answer to your question written on the walls. “And from what I have always seen, all of our students absolutely adore you. The staff loves you, and I’m sure you’re on track for a few awards this year as well.” 

“You flatter me, but is it worth the verbal harassment from the students?” 

“You never told me what they’d been saying,” Seungmin mumbles through the pout of his lips. Fuck, I’m not strong enough for this. 

“The comments are different every day, from asking me on dates to calling me” you gesture air quotes, “Mommy. In the middle of class.” Seungmin’s jaw basically drops to the floor in complete shock. 

“Have-” he says cautiously as he picks his jaw up off the floor. “Have any of my boys said these things? If they have, I’d like names Y/N. Truthfully I’d like the names of all the boys who’ve made such inappropriate comments. ” He says sweetly but his jaw is set in anger, you can tell by the vein that is pulsing on his neck. 

“Mr. Kim-” 

“Please, call me Seungmin. I don’t see why we insist on speaking to each other as if we were students.” He smiles kindly at you.

“Seungmin.” Fuck, his name is so pretty. “It would be easier to list off the names of those who do not make such comments.” Seungmin looks immensely disgusted. 

~~~~~

Since the evening you spent speaking to Seungmin, he had begun loitering in your hallway. In the mornings, as students raced to get to class on time he would stand at your classroom door next to you, greeting students as they came in. During the lunch period, he would make his way into your classroom, and insist on spending the time with you- and if he had any sort of free period, he would keep a close watch on your class- well out of both you and the student's sight. 

He wanted to see with his own eyes, his students acting out. He wanted to be able to hear the disgusting comments himself. He thought surely it wouldn’t happen every day, right? Wrong. On the first day, he had heard the alleged Mommy comment at least four times. On the second day, he watched as a student attempted to smack your ass, only for you to turn around instantly and scold him yourself before sending him to class right after. 

Disgusted, was an understatement. Seungmin was livid. How could the students be this sick? He wondered. He would not allow this to continue. On the third day, he had finally had enough. After hearing passing comments about you in his own classroom, he’d immediately excused himself and marched his way down to the principal's office. 

“Sir,” Seungmin says as he enters the principal’s office. He’s fuming, barely holding himself together. 

“Mr. Kim, how can I help you?” The principal asks from his chair, motioning for Seungmin to enter the room.

“It seems we have an issue.” 

“Regarding?” 

“Miss. Y/L/N, and our students,” Seungmin announces, expecting the principal to be concerned, however, that wasn’t really the case.

“Ahh, Miss. Y/L/N again?” The principal tuts. Seungmin is shocked. Again? What does that mean? Has she already brought up the issue? 

“Ah, so you’ve heard-” Seungmin sighs calmly, and the principal nods. “To be absolutely truthful with you sir, this sort of behavior is absolutely-” The principal cuts him off before he finishes. 

“I don’t see why she’s so dramatic, I’ll have to have another talk with her.” The principal announces, picking up his office phone to get a hold of you.

“I’m sorry sir?” Seungmin asks, confused. Why would he have a talk with you?

“I don’t see why a woman like her would wear such clothes and later complain about boys being boys.” The principal sighs in annoyance. “I mean one look at her and any man would want a piece.” Seungmin wraps his hands in a tight fist at his side. He really wishes he didn't walk into this room.

“Sir, that is wildly inappropriate to say about a member of staff.” Seungmin seethes. This is not how a supervisor should be treating a subordinate, this isn't how you should treat another human being, especially one that is trying to do her job. How can someone have the audacity to say that openly? “She is-”

“A woman, Mr. Kim. She is a woman, and women, especially women like her, should dress according to their bodies. Wearing such tight clothing around boys who are barely getting their hormones in check is just asking for-” 

“She wears dress pants, sir? She is always professional in her clothing. I don’t see how this constitutes harassment.” The principal attempts to interrupt but Seungmin continues. “To say a woman is ‘asking’ for sexual harassment from students, or men in general for what they wear is absurd. It is her body, she may do with it as she pleases so as long as it is school appropriate. She is not asking for anything but the bare minimum!” The principal rolls his eyes at Seungmin’s statement. “She deserves the respect any of the other teachers receive!” 

“Well, she isn’t like the other teachers now is she?” 

“What does that mean sir.” He fists his hands even tighter if that was even humanly possible. 

“She’s different- she’s more of a looker. Please, Mr. Kim, don’t act like you don’t know what I mean. The entirety of the faculty knows you’ve had the same thoughts as the rest of us.” Seungmin can feel his blood boiling, if he could, he would launch himself at the principal and punch him out for the shit that was coming out of his mouth. The principal admitted to thinking of you grossly and has now accused him of the same. Sure, he had thought you beautiful, intelligent, and funny but to mentally undress you was something he never did. No. He respected you far too much for that. 

“I do not appreciate you painting me as a predator.” Seungmin grits his teeth, tightening his jaw. 

“Seungmin, go back to your class. There are more important things to deal with.” The principal waves him off in annoyance. “I should have gotten rid of that woman after the third time she brought this issue up, if it was so bad she would have changed her appearance.” 

“Her looks should never have been a problem in the first place!” Seungmin yells at the steaming pile of shit in front of him. “How dare you speak about her as if she was nothing more than some sort of-” he struggles to find the right word. “Doll!” 

“Mr. Kim.” the principal warns in annoyance.

“She is much more than that! An intelligent woman who has put up with this for far too long! If you do not wish to punish the students for their actions sir, I will have no choice but to email the board.” Seungmin glares at the principal. The tension in the room could be cut with a knife. 

“I will be putting you on suspension, Mr. Kim. Think about what you really want to do here. Go. I’ll have someone cover your class. Get out of my sight.” Seungmin leaves the office in a huff, walking aggressively back as he internally thinks about how he will absolutely fuck that mans career. He walks past your class and you notice that he's pissed, you race out to see him.

“Mr. Kim!” Seungmin stops in his tracks and looks at you. You let the door close to your classroom behind you to have a more private conversation with him. His attitude changed when he saw you but he was still tense. You notice his knuckles are white, his hands tightly fisted at his sides. “Will I see you for lunch again?” 

“No.” He says angrily. He never misses lunch with you. Why is this time different? What made him so angry? 

“Are you alright Mr. Kim?” You ask cautiously. He looks around the hallway and sighs. 

“Miss. Y/L/N, it seems in attempting to do what was right, I have been suspended. My apologies, but I will not be staying for lunch.” 

“Suspended?! For what?!” You yelp in shock. Seungmin is the most perfect teacher at this school, how in the world did he get suspended?

“It seems harassment in this school goes unpunished.” You look at him confused. What the hell is he talking about? “I will also be considering my position here. Perhaps I will join you in resigning.” You’re stupidly confused. What brought all of this up? Did he say something about the harassment you faced daily?  You should have warned him that you brought this issue up to the principal in the past only to be ignored every single time. 

“Mr. Kim, I’m- I’m so sorry. I should have told you not to bring it up-” you stutter as you’re finding it increasingly difficult to look him in the eyes for feeling guilty that your problem had caused him to be suspended. He shouldn't be suspended. 

“Y/N.” Seungmin sighs and softly brushes his hand against yours to gain your attention again. “It’s not your fault that the people who are supposed to stand by your side haven’t. My suspension only opened my eyes to the massive flaw we have within the school. I intend to either fix it or remove myself from the equation.” Seungmin bows to you lightly and walks away, thinking about every way he could get the principal fired. He would have to email the school board. You stand in the hallway completely flabbergasted by what just happened. The bell rings stealing your attention from him, as you turn back to call for him, he’s gone.

➽──────────────❥

➽──────────────❥

You hear a knock at your door. You quickly run into your bathroom to make sure you look presentable after slaving over dinner prep. You run to the door and open it quickly. Seungmin is standing there dressed casually, not in his usual slacks and button-downs, with a bottle of wine in his hand. You beam a smile at him. “Welcome!” You motion for him to enter your home. 

“Thank you,” he smiles back. The atmosphere in the apartment is so heavy with awkwardness. He looks down at his hands and realizes he still has the bottle of wine in his hands. “Oh, I- uh, brought this for you- I mean us,” he says as he holds the bottle out for you. You take it with a small thank you and make your way to the kitchen. This is the first time the two of you have hung out outside of work so it’s bound to be a little awkward… right? You can't help but sneak glances at him. He looks handsome even in mundane clothes. He stares at all the food you prepared in awe, “Seriously, you didn’t have to do all of this?” 

“I felt like it,” you chuckle lightly. You’re incredibly nervous for him to taste your food. You very rarely cook for anyone and especially since it’s him you kind of went a little overboard. “Anyways, sit or-”

“Where’s your corkscrew?” He asks politely as he makes his way into your kitchen. “I find a bit of wine is always a welcomed relaxant.” You laugh and point to the drawer. You take out a few wine glasses while he struggles to pull the cork out of the bottle, making the both of you laugh, and breaking some of the unnecessary tension. You both sit down to enjoy the meal and the wine, the conversations flowing smoothly. 

“Oh please Mr. Kim-” you laugh, your cheeks tinted pink from drinking so much. Seungmin’s mind is reeling, he thinks you’re absolutely adorable, but in a corruptible way. Wait, did I just think that? Do I want to corrupt her?? No… I’d be no better than those fuckers at school… but she looks so pretty right now, her eyes glossed over, cheeks pink… fuck.

“I told you, call me Seungmin, we’re not in school,” he chuckles lightly, helping you out of the chair at the table and taking your hand to lead you to the couch.

“Sorry, old habits,” you frown. “I’m sorry you got suspended… because of me.” You sniffle a little as you finish your sentence. He was the only person who treated you decently at that hell hole, of course, you’re upset he's gone. And he’s also the only eye candy at that school and you can no longer ogle over him from down the hall.

“Hey, I told you, I got suspended because I couldn't keep my mouth shut about what was going on at the school. It was in no way your fault.” He said softly as he brushed a piece of hair behind your ear, wiping away a single tear that ran down your cheek.

“I just feel like I didn’t do enough to make it up to you,” you say softly as you play with the hem of his shirt. He watches your hands carefully, studying the curve of your fingers, wondering what they’d feel wrapped around his- no- stop. Don’t think like that… Seungmin quickly shakes the thought out of his head, but he couldn’t help but admire you. So sweet, so sickeningly innocent. The way you look up at him with those eyes, like a siren beckoning him to kiss you, god how badly he wanted to kiss you, touch you, make you, his- only his. 

He shouldn’t be thinking these things, he shouldn’t want you as badly as he does but as he looks at you- shying away from him all he can think about is how he could ruin that innocence you seem to unknowingly have, he wants to hear the sinful noises he just knows you’d be capable of making at his command. Fuck-  oh fuck, the ways he could ruin you. I really am no better than the rest of them… 

“Well, there is something that we could do to make it up to both of us,” he said carefully, tracing his fingers over your knuckles, a shiver running down your spine.

“What do you have to make up for?” you ask softly, looking at his eyes for the first time since you sat on the couch. His pupils have blown out, a slight blush to his cheeks, his ears red.

“For the thoughts, I’ve been having all night,” he admits, ghosting his fingers further up your forearm, tracing over every blemish on your skin.

“O-oh? What k-kind of thoughts?” you ask shyly as another shiver runs down your spine from his gentle touches.

“I’ve been thinking about how much I want to corrupt you, how I want to wrap you up in a bow like a fucking Christmas present begging to be opened, how I want to see you writhe beneath me as I fuck you hard and rough until you’re screaming my name.” 

You moan at his words as he rests his hands on your thighs, gripping them tightly in his hands. “What… what’s been stopping you?” You close your eyes as he massages your thighs, slowly running his fingers up under the hem of your skirt.

“I…” Seungmin pauses as he slowly removes his hands from your legs, suddenly feeling guilty at his actions. “I don’t want you to think I’m just another sleazy guy.” You immediately shake your head vigorously.

“I don’t think you're sleazy. At all.” You say, shocked at the confidence in your voice. “I… you’re the only person that has stood up for me… cared about me.” You trace your fingers over his knuckles. “And…” you’re not sure if it was the atmosphere or the alcohol that gave you the confidence but you blurted out without even a second thought, “I also think you’re incredibly handsome, Seungmin.”

Without a second further, Seungmin lunges forward and crashes his lips to yours in a hot, wet, steamy kiss. He licks into your mouth and quickly dominates the kiss, guiding you to match his rhythm. His hands glide further up your legs, under your skirt again and his fingers brush along the gusset of your panties. 

“Already so wet for me, angel?”

You whine into his mouth and grip the hem of his shirt tighter, trying to pull him closer to you. He wraps his hands around your wrists and yanks them away from him as he smirks into the kiss. 

“When did I say you could touch, angel?” He asks darkly, his tone firm, demanding. He held your hands down to your sides as he peppered kisses along your jaw. “Be a good girl and stay still for me.” You felt your body shiver and a high whine escaped your lips. You wiggled slightly, the need between your legs growing to be unbearable.

“Stop moving or I’m going to have to tie you down, angel.” Seungmin teases but pauses at the immediate blush that flashed across your cheeks.  “Oh, you like that don’t you.” Seungmin chuckles as he bites at your chin. “I don’t have anything to tie you up, angel, maybe next time.”

You squirm underneath him, desperate to get his attention since your words seemed to have been caught in your throat. “S-Seung-”

He stops sucking on your neck to allow you some space. “What is it, angel? Are you ok?” He looks so concerned as he looks over your face for any discomfort.

“‘M ok.” You say breathlessly. “H-have rope.” Seungmin stops and stares down at you, his eyes darkening.

“Oh, my naughty, naughty girl. You have rope? Who’s tied you up before, angel? Hmm? Tell me.” Seungmin seethes as he grips your wrists tighter, feeling incredibly possessive over you all of a sudden.

“N-no one. I s-swear. N-never tried it.” You begin to cry, not wanting him to run away from you, disgusted by your desires. Seungmin lets go of your wrists to wipe away your tears, kissing your cheeks and then your nose.

“Ok, angel. I believe you, don’t cry just yet.” Seungmin runs his hands down your cheek, down the column of your neck, through the valley between your breasts, across your stomach, and ghosting his fingertips across the hem of your skirt. “Why don’t we take this to your bedroom then so we can use that rope of yours.” He holds his hand out to help you up off the couch. You take his hand and rush toward your bedroom and close the door behind both of you. You go to your bedside and pull out a box from under your bed.

“I know it’s cliche to have a box of toys under the bed, please don’t judge me.” You say shyly as you stay knelt on the ground with the closed box in front of you. Seungmin slowly walks up to you and runs his fingers through your hair as you lean into his touch.

“So obedient,” Seungmin chuckles. He leans down and opens the lid to the box and inspects the toys inside. “Which one’s are your favorite?” He looks at you when you don’t respond and he chuckles lightly again. “You have permission to speak, angel.”

You point to a black bullet vibrator that sat atop all of the other items in the box and a clear silicone dildo sat right next to it. “These two,” you whisper quietly.

Seungmin huffs and takes the two toys out and tosses them on the floor next to you and continues to examine the other toys in the box. There's a pair of handcuffs, a blindfold, rope, a thick veiny long lifelike dildo, and a curved vibrator - the type that has internal and external stimuli. “Have you ever used any of these?”

You shake your head no. 

“I want you to speak when I ask you a question,” Seungmin says in a demanding tone, making a shiver run down your spine.

“N-no, I haven’t used them.” You respond shyly, keeping your eyes focused on your hands folded in your lap.

“No, what?” Seungmin says as he lifts your head up with his fingers pressed under your chin. “What do you call me, angel? You get to decide.”

“N-no, I haven’t u-used them, sir.” You say as a blush creeps across your cheeks and you feel more wet between your folds. You see Seungmin shiver when the title rolls off your tongue, but he still keeps his cool.

“Why haven’t you used them? You bought them, you should use them, no?” Seungmin says as he begins removing each item from the box and placing them carefully in between the two of you.

“I-I never had the opportunity, sir.” You say as you look away from him. He tuts and guides you to look at him again. He’s giving you a knowing look like he knows that’s not the entire truth. Fuck, was I always this easy to read? “I-I’m scared, sir.” You say quietly, the confession making you feel more shy than you already were. You’ve never shown anyone your treasure chest before and the fact that you were showing Mr. Kim, the man you’ve had a crush on for AGES, was fucking with your brain more than you would’ve liked. You wanted to do anything, everything he asked. Wanted to be good for him. Wanted to show him that you’d do whatever he wanted. Seungmin’s gaze softens and he brushes his fingers across your cheek, you lean into the touch, desperate to feel his warmth again.

“You’re scared of the toys? Hmm, my poor angel isn’t very heavenly if she has all of these naughty toys, right?” Seungmin asks and he sees the panic flicker in your eyes. “Shh, angel it’s ok. I like your naughty desires, but it makes me want to corrupt you even more. Would you like that? Can I teach you?”

You nod your head excitedly. “Yes, yes. Want you to teach me. Show me, sir.” 

Seungmin shivers in excitement. He pets your cheek gently. “Anything for you my angel. Get on the bed on your knees for me.”

You do as he says and place yourself at the center of the bed, carefully tucking your knees beneath you and placing your hands in your lap, awaiting his instructions. He smiles when you’re settled and stands at the end of the bed, looking over your body as if you were a piece of art in a museum. 

“Such an obedient little thing aren’t you.” Seungmin praises, you feel a satisfied shiver run down your spine. “Now, I want you to be a good girl and take your clothes off for me, and when you’re done, get back into that position. Understood, pup?”

“Y-yes sir.” You carefully remove your shirt, trying your best to make your movements as sexy as possible. You lean back and remove your skirt and panties, tossing them onto the floor next to your discarded shirt. You prop yourself back up on your knees and slowly reach back to unclasp your bra, suddenly feeling all too shy to be so naked in front of him. Seungmin walks to the side of the bed and sits down beside you when he notices your hesitation. He carefully tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. He runs his fingers down your cheek to your chin and tilts your head towards him.

“You don’t need to be shy, pup. You’re so beautiful.” He whispers, his fingers running up and down your arm. “Let me see all of you.”

You nod your head, unclasp your bra, and let it drop to your lap. Seungmin picks it up and tosses it over his shoulder as he stares at you. He looks you up and down, briefly licking his lips when his gaze locks on your lips. He gets up from beside you and stands at the foot of the bed again right in front of your box of goodies.

“What shall we do first pup?” Seungmin looks down at the box and a small smirk dances across his lips. He pulls out the silky black blindfold, “Shall we start with this?”

He walks over to the side of the bed again and places his hands on your shoulder, lightly pushing you down so you’d lay flat on the bed. He pushes the hair out of your face and places the silky material over your eyes. “I’m gonna need you to tell me if you ever feel uncomfortable, ok pup? You know the stop light system?”

“Y-yes sir,” you mumble breathlessly. The removal of sight has already heightened your other senses. His voice was caramel sweet to your ears and you wanted.. no.. needed more.

“Good girl.” You feel the bed lift beside you as Seungmin begins to walk away from you. “Stay just like that.”  You hear him moving around the room and the rustling of the items in your box until you hear him gasp. “Ohh fuck.” You hear him whisper probably to himself so you stay silent. “You really are a pup aren’t you?” You hear a chain clanging against itself as seungmin removes whatever it is from the box. “Sit up.” Seungmins words are commanding and you obey immediately. You listen as the chain and inevitably Seungmin approaches you again. He grabs your jaw and leans in close to your ear. “I can’t wait to see you in this pup. And I swear to god, if you disobey me I will not go easy on you. You’ve been such a good pet so far, let’s not make it go to waste huh?” You shudder and nod as best as you could within his grasp.

“Y-yes sir, I’ll be a good pup, I swear.” You want to please him, you want him to praise you again and call you a good girl. You wanna be so so so good for him.

He chuckles in your ear and he moves his hand down from your chin and rests it around your throat. You keen at the motion and lean into his hand, wanting so desperately for him to squeeze. “Oh, it’s a good thing you like things wrapped around your neck pup.” Seungmin teases as he tightens and loosens his hold on your neck in quick succession. You whine and buck your hips up at nothing, the need between your legs starting to become unbearable. 

Seungmin removes his hand from your throat and you let out a desperate whine. “Shh, pup, be patient.” You suddenly feel cold, rough material tightening around your neck. Seungmins face is so close to yours, you can feel his breath on your cheek. You want to turn your head and kiss him but you want to be good. Need to be good. So you stay still and wait for his instructions. Once he latches the material together you feel the cold metal chain drape across your chest and down the valley of your breasts. “Go ahead, pup, feel it.” You reach up to your neck and feel at the material that was placed around your throat and you gasp at the realization. The studded collar you bought a few months ago, was now sat prettily around your neck, the leash dangling down the front of your body. 

“Oh,” you whisper breathlessly as you run your fingers up and down the cold metal leash. You suddenly feel incredibly self conscious. You’ve never been in a position like this with any of your previous partners, most of them finding your desires to be too much. Your breath hitches as you sit in the silence. You can’t tell if Seungmin moved away from you or where he may be. Does he also find you undesirable? Is he disgusted by your wants? You drop your hands to the bed and feel around for him. “S-seungmin..” you whine as you’re worriedly searching for him. You start breathing heavier as you’re stressing over not being able to see him, hear him, or feel him.

You feel warm hands wrap around yours. “Hey, I’m right here pup.” You whimper as he places a chaste kiss to your cheek. “Do you want me to take the blindfold off?”

“No!” You reply a little too quickly. You shake your head. “N-no, I wanna keep it on… a-at least for a little while.”

He chuckles and kisses your cheek again. “Ok, pup. For a little while.” He begins to pull his hand away from you but you quickly chase after it and pull him back to you. “Pup.” Seungmin sits beside you on the bed and lifts the blindfold off from your eyes. “Look at me,” he says in a soft but demanding tone. Your eyes take a minute to adjust to the light but you look directly in front of you and see Seungmin sitting inches from you, his face a whisper away from yours. He looks at your eyes and it feels like he’s searching for something in them. “Listen to me pup. You’ve been so good so far, such a good girl. I’m gonna make you feel so good, but I need you to trust me.” He gently runs his finger across your cheek. “I’m not gonna leave you. I’ll be right here and if you want me to stop at any time just say ‘red’ and I’ll stop immediately.” His gaze softens as he notices the slight quiver in your lips. “You really are new to this aren’t you pup?”

You nod your head. Seungmin carefully watches you as you open and close your mouth, trying to find the words you want to say. “Y-yes. Wanted to try, b-but no one…” you trail off as you feel his fingers intertwined with yours. “No one’s wanted to d-do this with me.”

Seungmins gaze darkens slightly and he looks away from you, his jaw firmly set. You reach your hand up and guide him to look at you again.

“Please teach me.” You whisper as you touch your forehead against his. “I trust you Seungmin,” you say in a featherlight voice, closing your eyes and bringing the blindfold back over your eyes.

Seungmin is perfectly still as he watches you in awe. His precious pup is gaining some confidence, you saying you trust him, you wanting him to teach you. He’s not sure he’s ready for it himself. He feels the tent in his pants tightening. “Of course I’ll teach you pup,” you feel the bed lift from in front of you and feel a searing smack against your ass. You whimper at the pain, feeling a hand smoothing over the red mark that was most definitely left behind. “Firstly, you called me the wrong name, pup, and for that, you need to be punished.”

“I-I’m sorry, sir. It won’t happen again.” You say breathless as Seungmin nips at your neck.

“You better hope it doesn’t.” There’s another slap on your ass. “I want you to count, pup. Starting now.” He lands another smack and you start counting in your head. Seungmin yanks you by your hair and forces you to lean against his chest, his voice seething and close to your ear. “Out loud pup.”

“O-one.” You say with a shaky breath.

“Good girl.” Seungmin praises as he pushes you back down on your hands and knees. You keen at the praise and you push your ass backwards awaiting the next round of slaps.

You count out loud for each slap across your ass. “Eighteen.” Slap. “N-nineteen.” Slap. “Twenty.” Seungmin rubs soothing circles on your ass as the sting subsides.

“Well done pup. You did a good job.” Seungmin guides you to lay down on your back. He gives you a few gentle pecks on your lips as he runs his fingers across your tummy. “I’m gonna tie you up, okay pup? Can you tell me your color?”

“Green, sir. P-please keep going.” You say as you try to reach for his hands. Seungmin chuckles and kisses your knuckles.

“Ok pup, I’ll keep going.” Seungmin kisses your forehead and walks towards the end of the bed. You hear him rummaging through the box and he slowly approaches you again. “Lift your hands.” 

You slowly lift your hands up and Seungmin places the toy in your hands. You wrap your fingers around the material and feel the coarse threads of the rope you had inside your box. “Can you tell me what it is, pup?”

“Rope, sir.” You say as you run your fingers over the rope. You know the rope is a deep crimson, a color you thought would look stunning against your skin. You were so nervous to proceed, but you wanted to trust Seungmin. He’d take care of you.

“That's very good. Very good girl.” Seungmin praises and takes the rope from your hands and helps you sit up. “Listen to me carefully. I am going to tie you up. The rope is going to be nice and tight around your skin. It’ll feel good, but if it's too tight or you're having a hard time breathing or you're nervous, you tell me immediately and I’ll cut you free. Do you understand?”

You smiled towards the direction of his face and nodded lightly. “I understand, sir.” You feel him run the rough material over your skin. You shudder at the feeling, goosebumps rising over your arms as the rope is wrapped around your body. Seungmin tightens the rope every so often around your chest, your hips, your thighs. You feel the wetness pooling between your legs as he continues slowly. He traces your skin before the rope tracks over the same space. You suddenly feel incredibly overwhelmed by the intimacy of this type of play. Something you’ve never experienced before. Something you weren't prepared to feel. You noticed that Seungmin stopped his movements. “Pup.” Seungmin whispers, his lips grazing your shoulder as he places light kisses over the skin. He pulls your blindfold off and throws it off the bed. He’s looking at you with so much care in his eyes, but there's an underlying lust that he was holding back. “Don’t cry. Not yet.”

You didn’t even realize you were crying and you try to reach up to wipe the tears away quickly realizing that your arms are tied tightly to your sides. You start to fluster and your breathing picks up. “I-I’m sorry…” You start but Seungmin quickly places his hands on each side of your face and looks at you deeply.

“Hey, you’re ok. I’m right here. Color?”

“Y-yellow. Yellow, sir.” You say as you close your eyes feeling the tears pooling behind your eyes. Seungmin moves closer to you and places your forehead on his shoulder as he runs soothing lines up and down your spine and pats your head with his other hand. You two sit like that for a few moments, your breathing coming back to normal. “G-green.” 

Seungmin lightly pushes you back to sitting up. He smiles at you and grabs the rope again. He goes slower this time and finishes wrapping the rope around your body. He sits in front of you as you wiggle slightly as he asks if it's too tight. You promise him that you’re ok and he carefully lays you down on the bed again. He moves back to the box and pulls out the vibrator and the dildo. He returns to your side and traces the vibrator over the rope. You nod at him to continue and Seungmin smirks at you. He climbs on the bed and sits between your legs. He runs his hands up and down your soft skin as he turns the vibrator on.

He traces the vibrator over the rope and runs it along your arms. He slowly drags the vibrator between the valley of your breasts, making direct eye contact with you as he puts the device straight onto your nipple. You arch your back into the sensation and whine high as the vibrations send a wave of warmth down to your core. Seungmin spits into his hand and grabs the dildo, bringing it to your core and running it up and down your lips. You thrash at the feeling, bucking your hips to try to relieve the tension that's been building up between your legs since you and Seungmin were making out on your couch.

He teases the dildo against your entrance, slowly pushing the tip between your lips and quickly retreating, repeating the motion over and over again as he quickens the vibrations on your nipples.

“S-sir, please,” you plead, you need so much more than he’s giving you.

“Okay, pup, I’ll give it to you,” Seungmin says sweetly as he forces the dildo into your core in one swift push. Your breath catches in your throat at the sensation, your walls pulse around the toy. He pulls the dildo out entirely and pushes it all the way in once again. There's a teasing smile on his lips as he pumped the toy deep into your cunt. 

“F-feels s-so good,” you whine as you roll your hips in rhythm with his thrusts. “W-want you, s-sir,” you say with a stroke of confidence. He slowed his pace and he looked at you carefully. Something flashes across his face for a brief moment, his dominant persona being replaced by something else, something more desperate. He shook his head and his dominant persona was back. He removed the dildo from your cunt and turned off the vibrator, tossing it to the floor. He leaves you alone on the bed as you watch him remove his clothes, the waistband of his underwear catching on his hard cock, releasing it to let it slap against his stomach. You watch him in awe as he pumps his cock a few times, running a hand through his hair pushing it back, giving you the most exquisite view you've ever seen. Seungmin pauses his movements and smirks down at you.

“Would you like to stay tied up or do you want your hands?” Seungmin looks down at you cautiously but still with a fire behind his eyes that makes you want to hide behind your hands… if they were free.

“I’d like to stay t-tied please,” you say quietly, wiggling on the bed. Seungmin nods and crawls over you, running a finger down your cheek to your chin. He places a feather-light kiss on your nose and continues his light kisses down your neck as he lines himself up to your entrance. He pushes his tip in slowly and harshly snaps his hips into yours, punching the breath out of you. Seungmin stills as he places gentle kisses along your collarbone, snaking his hand up to gently hold your neck.

“Breathe, pup,” Seungmin whispers as he begins to thrust into you at a slow but calculated pace. There isn't any rhythm to his thrusts but the depth that he's reaching inside you already has you seeing stars. You let out shaky breaths, trying your best to focus on Seungmin’s piercing gaze. He’s staring down at you, taking in every single twitch and hitch in your breathing. He’s analyzing what feels good, gauging your reactions to each thrust, each touch. 

After a particularly pointed thrust you let out a high-pitched whimper and Seungmin’s gaze darkens. He starts thrusting in a steady rhythm now, hitting that spot that made you see stars, forcing high needy whimpers from your puffy lips. His hand on your neck tightens and his other hand finds your sweet little bundle of nerves. He lightly runs his finger over the bud and you attempt to reach down and pull his hand away from you, but your hands stay where they are, tied to your sides. You try to wiggle away from him but with his hand around your throat and his cock pressing deep inside your wet cunt you’re not entirely successful. Seungmin chuckles cynically at your attempt and he flicks his fingers over your clit repeatedly, watching as you hold back your moans with your lips pulled between your teeth and he watches your eyes roll to the back of your head.

“Feel good, pup?” You whine in response, unable to form coherent words at the amount of pleasure you’re feeling. You think for a brief moment that Seungmin will punish you for not answering his question with words, but apparently, he doesn't mind this time and continues his assault on your clit. After a rough thrust, you muffle another moan. Seungmin slaps your messy cunt harshly before soothing his hands over the area. “Don’t hold back your pretty moans, pup. Lemme hear how loud you can be for me.”

You're a writhing mess below him. Moans, ragged breaths, and skin slapping against skin is all that can be heard in your small bedroom. You felt like you could've come at least 10 times already but this time, you can feel it’s different. You want to touch him, pull him close to you, kiss him as you come. “M-min, pl-please stop,” you ask breathlessly.

It takes him a moment to pause his movements before he's looking down at you attentively, searching your features for any discomfort. “Did it hurt? Are you ok? Did I go too rough?” he asks calmly, but there is concern written all over his face. You wiggle your hands that are still bound to your sides and look down at them and look back up to him quickly. 

“Wan my hands,” you say quickly, adding an almost forgotten ‘please’ at the end. Seungmin looks down at your hands and quickly pulls at the knots, releasing your tired limbs from their hold, and resumes his previous pace before you have the time to recover. You yelp at the sudden movements and quickly wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer to you. “S-seungmin~” you whimper, “G-gonna, w-wanna cum.” 

Seungmin must be close as his grunting has gotten louder since you wrapped yourself around him. “Cum when you’re ready pup, getting close.” Seungmin pushes his nose into your neck, lapping his tongue along your skin, pressing messy kisses here and there as he moans into you.

You feel something deep in your stomach begin to tighten. You dig your nails into Seungmin’s back as your moans get higher in pitch. You babble incoherent phrases as you wrap your legs around his body, trying to pull him impossibly closer to you. Seungmin quickened his fingers against your clit, sliding his fingers into your tight cunt with his palm resting on your puffy (and incredibly abused) clit. The additional intrusion was enough to push you over. You muttered out an incoherent sound along with a breathless, “c-cuhm”, as your body shudders and your cunt pulses around Seungmins cock and fingers. A loud shriek pushes past your lips as your climax rushes through you. Seungmin mumbles encouragements into your skin, kissing your ear, chin, and neck. “That’s it pup, wan you to feel so good. Such a good pup, my good pup.” 

You feel like you're floating as Seungmins pace begins to get more sloppy. He grinds into you as he groans more praises into your ear. “Good pup, so good for me. My good girl. Good pup, making me feel so good.” He curls his fingers up into your cunt adding pressure once again as he pushes in deeper, his tip kissing your cervix. “Cumin, pup, cuming,” he mumbles as he releases deep inside of you. The pressure of his fingers, his cock pushing against your cervix, and his cum filling you has another orgasm racing through you. You dig your nails into his back as you soundlessly cum again. Seungmin collapses on top of you, his breathing harsh as he softly rocks into you, riding out the last of both of your orgasms.

After a few moments, he pushes himself up to look down at you. He places a light kiss on your nose as he carefully removes himself from you. “Stay right there,” he whispers as he moves towards the bathroom. While he’s gone you catch your breath, stuck in a semi-trance. He’s back in a few moments with what looks like lotion and a towel. Seungmin makes quick and gentle work to wipe you down, rubbing lotion along your skin, all the while he's whispering sweet words to you. You feel so warm, so cared for, so wanted. He has you take a few sips of water before he pulls you into bed, letting you cuddle into his chest as he wraps his arms around you. As you slowly drift off to sleep, you can't help but feel so loved, so safe.

The weekend passes by quickly, Seungmin leaving only to gather some clothes from his house. He spends the weekends exploring you, learning your inner workings, how your mind ticks and functions, how your body reacts to the things he does, and how his mind and body react to you. He also spends a portion of the weekend sending emails which he tells you are simply to figure out when his suspension ends. On Monday Seungmin will return to school, and though it has only been three days, getting used to calling him Mr. Kim in school again seems daunting with you now being used to simply calling him Seungmin. 

“What if I just quit and go to another school?” You whisper as Seungmin parks the car in the school lot, Seungmin takes your hand softly, giving you a small smile before speaking. 

“Everything will be fine, Miss Y/L/N. No more harassment from students, or staff.” 

“How’d you know about the staff-” 

“I just know my love, but I promise you, no more.” You’re not sure how Seungmin can make such a promise but still. You make your way into your classroom, your students all waiting attentively for you to start your lesson. The few typical troublemakers in the back sit unusually silent as you begin. A knock on your door causes you to stop your slideshow as a woman you haven’t seen before walks in, followed by Seungmin directly behind her. He closes the door and waits patiently for the woman to speak. 

“Good morning students,” she starts, “Miss. Y/L/N.” she nods to you, “My name is Mrs. Im, as some of you may know,” she says as she stares to the back of the class where the usual group of boys sit up straight, some with their heads hung down. “I am your school's new principal. I’ve come to introduce myself. Miss. Y/L/N may I speak to you in the hallway quickly?” You nod as you follow her and Seungmin out into the hall. Your heart racing from not knowing what any of this was about. 

“Mr. Kim, Mrs. Im. What is this about?” 

“Miss. Y/L/N, I’ll need you to give me a list of the staff who have harassed you. I apologize for this being so sudden, but I’d like to rid my school of such behavior immediately.” Seungmin stands proud beside Mrs. Im as she speaks, “Though for now, I can only offer a suspension as we await investigation but I hope this helps you feel a bit safer within your workspace.” You nod softly as she smiles and walks away, leaving you alone for a moment with Seungmin.

“See my love? I told you. No more.” He smiles at you as he takes your hand gently in his, tracing his fingers across your digits and placing a soft and quick kiss on your fingertip. “Nothing bad's gonna happen to you anymore, not when I can help.” You can’t help the blush that dusts across your cheeks.

“I- uh, gotta get back to my class,” you say sheepishly as you slowly back towards your classroom. 

“I’ll meet you at the car after school?” He asks cooly as he tucks his hands into his pockets, smirking at you.

“Of course, Mr. Kim,” you sing-song back to him as you walk into your classroom. Seungmin stands in the hallway for a beat before he turns around, kicking his feet, and lightly chucking to himself. 

“My lovely little pup,” he whispers with a smile on his face as he walks down the hall, planning how he is going to have his way with you later this evening. 

➽──────────────❥

Tags @chanlixiiee @amalieworldidk @jaebaebaegot7 @maeleelee @iadorethemskz @maenijw @hangin-out-with-the-street-rats @jinniespuppy @painstakingly-juno @lethallyprotected @elizalabs3 @jisungsbff01 @seungminslittlepup @lieghscloud @foxinnie8 @scarletbedlam @kpoppin-to-the-beat @stay-berry @bbymatz @kurxxmi @skzstaykatsy

#seungmin x reader #kim seungmin x reader #kim seungmin fluff #seungmin fluff #kim seungmin drabbles #seungmin drabbles #stray kids fluff #stray kids x reader #stray kids imagines #stray kids drabbles #skz x reader #skz fluff #skz drabbles #skz scenarios #stray kids seungmin #kpop x reader #kpop fluff #seungmin x y/n #kim seungmin smut #seungmin smut #skz smut #stray kids smut #skz x y/n #skz x you #seungmin x you #kim seungmin x y/n #seungmin hard hours #seungmin hard thoughts #kim seungmin hard hours #kim seungmin hard thoughts

[liminalmemories21]

There’s a way that panic can make you feel nauseous, and he has to swallow hard before he can get the words out.  “Tell me what you need me to do.”

Trudie gives him an approving smile, like a teacher with a student who’s given the right answer.  “You’re going to help me steal a statue.”

The Knave of Clubs . . . swears he'll take her part

liner notes below the cut

First things first.  Yes, Iris is in this alot.  No, there is no secret marriage. This is not a spoiler, this was referenced in the previous story in this series. The Carlos in this universe is a step to the left of the Carlos in canon, and he has different experiences.  Also, this is my unhinged AU, which means I get to pick and choose which bits of canon I work with.   I did not vibe with that one.

Second things second.  This was going to be a caper, y'all.  It was going to be a short caper.  Carlos and TK were going to go to NOLA and help the Leverage crew take care of some business , and, I don't know, eat beignets and popsicles.  Why popsicles and not po'boys?  Because the last time I was in NOLA I had the best popsicles of my life - they sadly no longer exist, but I can resurrect them for fic.  I also had excellent po'boys, but the popsicles were better.

[eyes fic] I don't know what happened?  Okay, I do know.  One of the weird upsides to writing a series is that you get to deal in consequences and messy afters, and the way that making a decision isn't the end to that decision, and what you did last time around keeps echoing in what you do this time.  Nothing exists in isolation.  And, I love love a story about what happens after - after the war, after the quest, after the reveal.  How do you rebuild, what happens next.  That is my die-hard kink.  Also, there was S4 of Lonestar and I had . . . thoughts, questions, concerns, reactions.  I worked them out in fic.

Third things third.  My characterization of Trudie in this fic owes a debt to Mags Bennett in S2 of Justified.  She was terrifying, and ruthless, and totally in control, and one of the most interesting characters - she's why that season was so good.  Also, go watch Justified, it's fantastic.

Fourth things last.  As ever, don't try this at home y'all, this is not how any of this works.

Reference links in final chapter, because see previous notes about being too much of a geek not to footnote.

And finally, the chapters aren't for @rmd-writes, but they're not not for her either (sorry @freneticfloetry- but this time, the structure did actually lend itself to chapters).

#knave-verse #tarlos #911 lonestar #au #fic complete

[velidewrites]

The Daily Struggles Of An Art Student

Desperate to finish her male anatomy assignment before the deadline, Feyre Archeron finds a secluded corner in a cafe. Or so she thinks.

Pairing: Feysand

Tags: Modern AU, Artist!Feyre, Look folks I'm just going to say it: Feyre spends half of this fic looking up reddit [redacted] for a male anatomy assignment

Notes: Happy birthday the wonderful @the-lonelybarricade! I wrote you this definitely not unhinged one-shot as a little gift. Thank you for being such a great friend, and truly the most supportive person in this fandom. I cherish you!!

Read on AO3

Feyre was running out of time.

Deadlines, she decided, were really not her thing. What was that saying? “You can’t rush art?” Well, her professor at the New York Academy of Art would be inclined to disagree. Then again, Feyre wasn’t sure the blank page shining a soft, white light from her iPad could really count as “art.”

She sighed in frustration, shifting in her seat. As if the new angle could help, somehow. With exactly four hours and twenty minutes until she was to submit her assignment, the prospect of failing was quickly starting to look more and more like a reality. Feyre had always been bad at painting from memory, particularly when it came to capturing people. Her own cat, she could probably paint in minutes and be satisfied with the outcome. Or the view from her apartment. Or the honey-brown colour of her sister’s eyes, especially when she just saw Elain at dinner the other day.

Male anatomy, on the other hand…

Feyre needed a reference. Desperately.

It wasn’t unusual for an art student to spend hours on Pinterest, searching for the perfect pose, one that would be just right. Feyre had done it herself too many times to count. It was simply that…well, Pinterest could not provide a reference for everything. And Feyre would rather not use her own memory to capture a man’s physique in full.

She had just broken up with Tamlin, after all, and had very little interest in ever recalling their time together again. Lucky for her, he had moved to Boston last week to pursue his Master’s, never to bother her again. Hopefully.

Unfortunately, with Pinterest proving entirely hopeless, and Tamlin decidedly out of the picture, Feyre was left entirely out of options.

The worst thing about all this was that Feyre had only herself to blame.

There had been one option she simply pretended not to acknowledge, though she would have finished yesterday morning had it not been for her own stubbornness—or, as Nesta had called it, had she not been such a prude. Feyre certainly did not think of herself as one—it was just that…well.

Every morning, from 8 till 10:30 sharp, her class offered anatomy studies with a handful of volunteers from the student body posing for their life drawing. Ninety-nine percent of the time, they were completely nude, which was not something Feyre would have cared about in the slightest had their newest model not been Feyre’s best friend. And her sister’s new boyfriend.

Ever since she had told Lucien Vanserra the school was considering paying the volunteers for their efforts, his gaze lit up and, not even a day later, there he was, his name displayed proudly on the sign-up sheet. Feyre knew him long enough now to know the extra money in his pocket was just an excuse. Someone has to capture this body one way or another, Feyre, Lucien had told her a few days ago, a twinkle in his russet eye. She supposed he did make an interesting art subject, with the scar and all—but not nearly interesting enough to strut through the East Building proudly, letting both students and teachers alike gush on about his “cruel beauty.”

Elain, to her horror, seemed to support Lucien’s latest modelling endeavours wholeheartedly.

“He promised to bring a few of the sketches home,” her sister had told her excitedly at dinner. The best reaction Feyre could offer was a horrified, blinking stare.

It wasn’t that Lucien was lacking in the looks department—on the contrary, actually—but she’d always seen him as a brother, ever since the day he’d almost run her over on his motorcycle, her very first day as a college freshman. And so, for the past few days, Feyre would make sure to avoid the East Building like the plague.

Today, she ended up in a nearby campus cafe, a cozy spot for a senior art student seeking privacy, yet still crowded enough to make Feyre look over her shoulder every few minutes. She’d opted for a secluded corner near the restrooms, with no windows next to her table, just in case a nosy passerby caught a glimpse of what exactly Feyre was drawing. Or, rather, attempting to draw.

She glanced at her phone, an unpleasant sense of dread curling in her stomach once again as she realised twenty more minutes had passed. Had she really wasted all that precious time thinking about Lucien?

Feyre needed to come up with a solution, and fast. There was no way she was failing this class, not in her final year. She was planning to move to Paris next year and continue her education there—where better than the art capital of the world? She would not let a poor painting of a penis, of all things, ruin all of her plans and dreams for the future.

Relying on Pinterest for now, Feyre began sketching the unnamed man. His upper body posed no serious issues, and she found herself done with the clean lineart and three hours thirty minutes left to spare. The thighs, too, seemed to feature all the muscles in correct places, though upon further inspection, she had perhaps drawn them slightly too large for a regular, male specimen. Whatever. With Lucien as the current model, she doubted any of her classmates would submit perfectly proportionate sketches.

Good, Feyre decided. This was good. The only thing left for her to do now was to find a good reference for the final pièce de résistance. She could do this—there was no one around, after all, and she’d make sure her browser history would be wiped clean later. Ressina, her classmate from the Academy, liked to borrow Feyre’s iPad sometimes to try her skills at digital art—and Feyre wasn’t sure their friendship was well-established enough that she could explain without making a fool of herself.

With a deep, deep sigh, Feyre got over herself and fired up Reddit.

Well.

This was going to make things a whole lot easier.

It was honestly beyond her that this entire archive was out there, for free and simply waiting for her to download. Without wasting any more time, Feyre got to scrolling.

She hadn’t expected to be flooded with so many options, but soon enough, she found just the perfect reference—the angle matched exactly the pose she had already outlined, and from the ruler he’d so proudly displayed beside it, the man didn’t seem like he would mind. And so, with the image neatly placed in the corner of her canvas, Feyre began to add the sketch. Everything seemed to be coming together—and, her focus lost entirely to the penis before her, she was actually starting to believe she might just submit this thing in time.

“Friend of yours?”

“Shit!” Feyre jumped, pressing her iPad close to her chest as she whirled back.

The voice behind her—of course—turned out to be a man. The most beautiful man she’d ever seen.

“Well?” he asked, eyes twinkling. Were they actually violet, or was the soft light pouring through the window just that spectacular?

Feyre felt her cheeks heating. “You know, it’s rude to invade other people’s privacy,” she told him, anger slowly replacing the embarrassment coiling in her chest.  Who was this man, this stranger, to question her?

He only seemed more amused, though he lifted a defensive hand. “Hey, I was just leaving the restroom,” he said, pointing back to the staircase behind. “It’s not my fault you’re right out here for all to see. Who’s invading whose privacy now, hmm?” Before Feyre opened her mouth to retort, the man added, “Oh, no need to apologise. Mind if I sit?”

And with that, he simply plopped down on the chair beside her.

The audacity. 

Feyre’s eyes narrowed. “I wasn’t going to apologise,” she said, setting her now locked iPad on the table.

He ran a hand through his hair, raven waves soaking up the sunlight, and smiled again. “I was hoping you would say that.”

“Anyway, this isn’t my friend,” Feyre said, hoping there was enough mockery in her tone to wipe that stupid grin off his handsome face. “It’s a project. For art school.”

“Ah, yes” he mused, drumming his long, slender fingers on the polished wood. “I could tell from how precise your strokes were.” Something about the way he said strokes made the heat in her face nearly boil over. Get it together, idiot! He leaned back in his seat, as if he could somehow tell exactly what Feyre was thinking. Then, he proclaimed, “You’re an artist.”

Alright, Feyre decided. Not entirely a prick, then. “I’m not sure I’d call myself that,” she admitted honestly. Not yet, at least.

“I would,” he said, the corner of his mouth curling slightly as he added, “I’d like to call you many things, actually. Let’s start with your name.”

There it was. Feyre couldn’t help but flirt in return. Prick or not, she liked his boldness—and his good looks certainly were no disadvantage. “You first,” she demanded.

He flashed her a wide, brilliant smile. “My favourite subject.”

She rolled her eyes playfully. “That doesn’t surprise me one bit.”

“Rhysand,” he said. “But you, darling, can call me Rhys.”

Rhysand. The name was so unusual she almost didn’t register what he’d called her. Darling. It was then that she’d finally taken her eyes off his face long enough to take in the rest of him—the deep, English accent, lilting as though he wasn’t speaking to her but singing the smoothest melody.

Yeah—she really needed to get it together.

“What brings you to New York City, Rhysand?” she asked him, not giving him the satisfaction of using his clearly personal nickname yet. His eyes sparkled again, accepting the challenge.

He shrugged. “Research. The sights. Pretty girls drawing male genitalia at 1pm on a Tuesday.” Rhysand winked. “Greatest city in the world, huh?”

Feyre’s cheeks flushed again. “Research?” she questioned, desperate not to go back to that topic with a man she’d only just met.

Rhys chuckled. “Yes. I’m an astronomer—or about to be, at least.”

“Interesting.”

“It is,” he agreed, and she could’ve sworn actual stars flickered in his gaze with the words. “You’d be surprised just how much the night sky has to offer.”

“I paint it sometimes,” Feyre told him, unsure why she’d just admitted something that personal to a stranger. “Whenever I feel…down, I suppose.”

To her surprise, Rhys nodded. “I do the same.”

Her brows flicked up. “Paint?”

“I’m afraid I’m not that talented. No, I look up—watch the stars.”

Feyre smiled. “That actually sounds wonderful.”

Rhys angled his head. “You know, I haven’t had the chance to explore the New York sky yet. I could use some company.”

Something told her she was up for one hell of a first date. “Alright, Rhys,” Feyre said, his face lighting up triumphantly at the name. She chuckled, grabbing her iPad as she rose from her chair. “Meet me here at seven thirty tonight.”

“Wait!” he called after her. “You still haven’t told me your name.”

“Hmm, I don’t know,” she teased. “I’m not sure I’m ready to part with darling.”

The stars in his eyes twinkled. “Oh, I think we’ll work something out.”

#I'M SO SORRY THIS IS A LITTLE LATE #I JUST MANAGED TO GET ON AO3 #anyway for legal purposes i've actually never even HEARD of reddit #feysand fic #feysand fanfic #feysand fanfiction #feysand #pro feysand #feyre x rhysand #feyre archeron #feyre acotar #rhysand #rhysand acotar #acotar fic #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #my writing

[foursaints]

Ok I just read your Bartylily post/collage and I’m obsessed but I IMMEDIATELY thought about Kat and Patrick from 10 things I hate about you, because that is SO Barty and Lily. The hot but mysterious crazy boy who lights his cigarettes with a potions flame, and Lily is brilliant and argues in every class and they’re aware of each other but roll their eyes at everything the other person says. Until one day they get detention or something together and actually have a conversation and barty makes her laugh and she’s surprised by his wit, and they start talking more and oh what is this feeling?? You’re not an absolute degenerate without a brain?? AND the flashing the teacher to get out detention scene?? Can you imagine if Lily did that for Barty?? The way that mans tongue would be on the ground and eyes popping out of his head cause he realizes they’re both unhinged in their own ways and it just WORKS. And everyone in school is like ???? Those two?? Anyways…. Sorry to go CRAZY in your ask I just had this thought and I had to get it out. (I absolutely adore you and everything you do, I hope you’re having an amazing day)

this ask is so crazy i kept it in my inbox just to reread it over and over…. ANON you’ve given me some sort of mental ailment but i’m grateful? pleeeaase i can just SEE this au so clearly in my head i keep picturing different scenes from the movie so vividly. the real bartylily has been here in my askbox along

#bartylily #a #THIS IS LIKE DRUGS TO ME. I LOVE YOU

[manicpixiefelix]

okay so i've started watching Euphoria with my girlfriend (unfortunate for us since its trash) HOWEVER we have been coming up with an absolutely unhinged Saltburn crossover AU (we're only halfway through s1 so bare with me).

It's 2019. Saltburn's canon happened 12 years ago.

Guidance Councillor Farleigh, back in America, in his early 30s, having to deal with everything that's happening at that fucking high school

absolutely winded to meet this kid who's just like eighteen different problems in the shape of his dead cousin (Nate)

also hates this kid (for obvious reasons) but can't say that (because he's a guidance councillor)

Nate doesn't want to be seeing him but has to because he's being made to for various reasons

Farleigh makes a call to Oliver (again, twelve years since that summer at Saltburn)

In this version, Elspeth gives Oliver the estate and passes 10 years after that summer, so Oliver's been dancing naked and fucked up on coke and unprocessed grief and misplaced triumph for 2 years already.

Farleigh, knowing fully that both Nate and Oliver are unhinged and that Nate is probably just as capable of murder as Oliver is if pushed to it, knows this will go badly.

Either Oliver will take care of his Nate problem, or Nate will take care of his Oliver problem. Either way it's a win for Farleigh.

Except Oliver chooses the Secret Third Option and seduces Cal Jacobs (Nate's Dad) which for Farleigh is the nightmare scenario.

The worst part is that he has to act like he didn't orchestrate this situation.

Nate, furious in one of his sessions: - and this GUY who keeps HANGING AROUND MY FUCKING HOUSE keeps calling me FELIX even though I've fucking TOLD HIM NOT TO!

Farleigh, who knows exactly why Oliver Quick is calling him Felix and can't tell Nate why, and is also In His Own Personal Hell: Yeah That Sucks I Wonder Why He Does That, That's So Weird.

Oliver, because he's a little freak of a man who's still obsessed with Felix Catton and the Catton family has even more misplaced triumph because he's twisted it around in his head so he now has this idea that he's symbolically conquered all of Felix's immediate family (Cal taking the place of James who managed to "escape" him)

not sure what happens in the middle, but I do believe Maddy could take Oliver in a fight, and I also think she should be the one to kill him.

I think she and Farleigh are bros (in the way that you can be buddies with certain teachers) and he reassures her and helps her cover it up and get away with it.

thanks i hate it here 👍(<- said by me, my girlfriend, and probably farleigh too)

#oliver quick #farleigh start #saltburn film #saltburn #saltburn 2023 #oliver saltburn #farleigh saltburn #euphoria #nate jacobs #cal jacobs #maddy perez #manicpixieart

[denizbevan]

First Line Meme

First Line Meme

Post the first line from the last 10 fics you posted -- and are there any patterns?

~

World Behind and Home Ahead (rated E, modern AU, Revenge Community Centre found family series, set in Switzerland)

“Put your feet up, sweetness,” Ed said, reaching over to the coffee table for the popcorn bowl.

~

A Little Embrace (rated E, canon-divergent AU, mermaidstatue!Stede series)

They’re dancing. Ed holds Stede in his arms—real flesh, returned to him, warmer than warm—and even after he’s hummed the final bars of the tune, his blood keeps on thrumming to the melody of StedeStedeStede.

~

If You Like It That Way (rated E, post-canon innkeepers, fun with stockings)

Post-handy, post-cleaning up, they lay curled together in the cocoon of their bed.

~

From an Unhinged Snake to an Unhinged Heart (rated M, post-canon Archie and the innkeepers, plus Jim)

Archie liked dropping by Jeff and Bartholemew’s inn. It was the only place in the world, and the only time in her life, that let her be free.

~

Speak, Easy and Free (rated E, modern AU, Stede and Ed meet in Helsinki)

Stede never celebrated his birthday.

~

Ed and Stede's French Lessons (rated G, modern AU, half in French, half in English, part of the Ed’s marina series (rated E) set in Ontario, Canada)

“Je vais essayer de te parler en Français tout le temps.”

“What? Good morning, by the way. Thank you for the tea. Ed, why would you speak to me in French?”

~

Ready for the Journey (rated E, modern AU, it’s the Into the Woods fic!, set in Nova Scotia, Canada)

“Oh, dad! I can’t believe I forgot to tell you!” Alma tugged out of Stede’s embrace, practically bouncing in the doorway of his flat. For a split second, he knew the pleasure of having given his kids such a fun weekend that some important news had skipped Alma’s mind. Then, at her next words, his pleasure spiked into the stratosphere. “This year’s play is Into the Woods!”

~

Arms Have Charms (rated E, modern AU, sequel to the one where teachers Stede and Ed are chaperones a high school dance)

Summer vacation was upon them, their twentieth summer vacation together.

Bonus line: “Ed, you haven’t come inside me since June!”

~

I Am In Your Hands (rated E, post-canon, sequel to my Reverse Big Bang; each sequel features travel to a new place, this time its Quebec, featuring Stede and Ed-style Olympic Games and some private games of their own)

Ed swung in round the doorjamb. “What’cha writing?”

“A record of our Olympic Games!” Stede set down his quill and massaged his wrist. He’d been holed up in the cabin all afternoon, writing, as they sailed out of Canadian waters.

“What? But that’s private!”

“No, no, my love, the Games portion. Not our...personal competition.”

~

Complementary Dinghies (rated G, post-canon innkeepers, Stede and Ed finally row a dinghy together)

Stede went with Lucius in the first dinghy, carrying the sacks of “necessary” items. What Stede thought was necessary and what Lucius thought was necessary differed but, as Lucius pointed out, “you’re the one carrying it all, and it’s your rotting shack, so it’s up to you.”

Now, as Stede rowed them towards the shore, where the inn stood—well, leaned—proudly on its height, Lucius gave him a piece of advice.

“Get engaged.”

~

It’s hard not to post an extra line or two!

I certainly seem to enjoy in media res, or a bit of quick explanation...

Tagged myself off @clairegregoryau! Play along if you like!

#ofmd #our flag means death #stede bonnet #ofmd s2 #edward teach #amwriting #shoveitintotheluckhole #thisdaywewrite #save ofmd #adopt our crew #memes #ofmd fics

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

Do you think Zuko and Katara would work as a couple?

The last time I spoke about Zutara in relation to fandoms at large.

It'd have to be AU.

It's not impossible, I've seen great fics, and the characters do have traits they admire in one another and a lot of screentime alone in canon.

However, given canon, I'm not shocked it didn't work out for a number of reasons.

Canon

In season 1, Zuko's very clearly an antagonist and Katara meets him when he terrorizes her defenseless village in search of the Avatar who is in fact a child himself. He then hounds them across the globe, representing the Evil Empire, trying to snuff out the one last hope for the world for reasons Katara simply cannot understand. Add onto this that he kidnaps her one time, fights her in the North Pole where he kidnaps Aang when he's helpless and takes him into the tundra (where Aang may uh die), and they're not getting off on a good foot.

Katara may have been into Jet, resident bad boy, but she liked him when he was a bad boy for her cause and giving the Fire Nation what for. She was horrified when it turned out he was a tad bit unhinged and planning to massacre civilians.

On Zuko's end, Katara and Sokka are the annoying water tribe peasants who hang around the Avatar. They're useful in that the Avatar clearly cares about them and they're weaker benders/non-benders (making them easier to kidnap and things) but he has his Avatar blinders on so doesn't really care much beyond that.

Season 2, the Gaang is confused when it seems they have a new and more terrifying hunter (Azula) and Zuko and his uncle seem to uh not be on her side maybe. However, Zuko's still fighting Aang at this point which means a big old no from Katara. We then get to Ba Sing Se, when both are kidnapped, and here we have our shining moment. Katara offers to heal Zuko's scar, they talk about their past and Zuko about how he's given up and is redeemed and a fugitive of the Fire Nation, and Katara wants to believe in him.

However, he immediately stabs her in the back, helping his sister to nearly kill Aang, betraying his uncle in front of them, all for the chance to go home and be redeemed.

After that, Katara canonically is very clearly done with this man. She vaguely tolerates him when Aang takes him on as a teacher but very clearly doesn't trust him and only slightly thaws after their murder adventure together.

Zuko, for his own part, seems to feel awkward around Katara and then terrified after the murder adventure as uh... he knows he did bad and there isn't an easy way to make them believe he's super good for real this time. Last time didn't count, guys. He's mostly trying to get in her good books and not in a way that will lead to a realtionship.

(And add onto that that Zuko has his thing with Mai, Mai ends up imprisoned because of him, and that Katara has her thing with Aang and it gets very messy).

But it Could Happen

If you diverge early, or have a very AU world, then it might work out. Granted, part of Zuko's character is focusing on restoring his honor, which is mutually exclusive to all of Katara's ideals. It would feel--weird and cheap if Zuko defected early and I think it was a key part of his character that he did get a chance to get his honor restored and realized that it wasn't what he wanted and his family is terrible.

Similarly, if Katara's more understanding of Zuko's position... Well, that's not who she is as a character and from her perspective what's there to be understanding of. Zuko is literally trying to murder the Avatar or else imprison him for life and doom the world: where is the good in that?

So, I can't tell you where, when, and how would be a good point of divergence. However, I don't think as personalities they're unshippable, I think there is a lot there, it's just not inclined to happen given who they are and where they come from.

#avatar the last airbender #avatar the last airbender meta #avatar the last airbender headcanon #avatar the last airbender shipping #katara #zuko #katara/zuko #anti katara/zuko #meta #headcanon #opinion #shipping

[matchavellichor]

  🍵🤏🧐

Good evening madam. Might I be so bold as to inquire what works you have in progress for us?

You may!! (っ◔◡◔)っ ♡

I'm so disorganized and start a bunch of stories at once when I get ideas & then don't finish them LOL....buuut if there's anything that stands out that you guys want me to get a move on lemme know:

forced marriage au with a dark!omi who's a tad unhinged (not really, he's a sweetheart, but he does lowkey kidnap mc). was supposed to be a oneshot but i might make it a short little chaptered thingy

live-in-healer!mc and terminally-ill!ominis, post-grad. the manor's all dark and spoopy. ghosts n shit. his family's dead under """"mysterious"""" circumstances. blood curses and whatnot. i just had a bunch of random ideas and wanted to write a reclusive ominis who's super bitter and grumpy LOL, and a stubborn mc who warms his heart of stone. will be chaptered, but i only have like...a chapter & a half done

a very random amit drabble where he reconnects with mc post-grad in a tavern in paris and uhhh...stuff happens back in her hotel

a very random professor sharp drabble bc teacher-student is my guilty pleasure

tom riddle x reader for a friend, but i've never written tom so i'm taking too long with it oops

dark!seb x mc x dark!omi bc i saw some artwork a lil while ago that inspired me

and then a couple requests centering ominis that i'm slowly getting through (pls bear with me i'm slow)

(a lot of these are like 85% finished btw I'm just so lazy with finishing up fics sometimes 😅)

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #hogwarts legacy fanfiction

[stealingpotatoes]

another ask answering post woah

got a few Long asks last night/yesterday so I'm just gonna answer all in a post instead of taking up everyone's dashes or trying to give small answers!!

featuring some skywalkers apart au, rey skywalker-djarin au, timejump au, and random other star war:

@just-prime KEEP THE UNHINGED DINLUKE RAMBLES TO A MAXIMUM ACTUALLY!!!

YOU'RE SO RIGHT i hadn't even thought of it like this!!! partly bc I just think of Luke like... not being too unhealthy abt Jedi stuff bc unlike Disney I wouldn't give him a complete personality transplant loll. BUT YEAH!!! Luke being happier and getting that differing perspective would so help him be a better teacher and give everyone less mental health issues!!

also what i'm hearing overall is they can fix ben with:

@cherrypine6 awww thank you!!! I'm currently not sure, I've got a scene w him written but I really don't know whether I'm keeping it in or not -- guess we're both gonna find out loll!!!

@mydearestblue LETS GOOOOO high praise thank u <3

@aberrations-reality OOHHHHHH!!! unfortunately leia's in her normal outfit and it doesn't go down quite like that but OHHHHHHH at the idea,,,

tbh I don't think Palpatine would oppress Naboo culture loads, but I do think he'd put an insane imperial presence there to protect his homeworld even tho it's ultimately doing more harm than good ): ...and higher imperial presence means he's more likely to catch padme w anakin if he ever visits

@erkhyan I had not!! thank you!! they're eli vanto kinning fr

thanks for the heads up anon!! i dont think i'll block them bc they seem respectful abt it & tag all their discourse/ don't tag it as characters + i think it's fair anakin maybe one of my faves of all time but ya know, he's a bit of a shit person, i get ppl who don't like him lolll <3 but still thank you for telling me!!! nice to know these things

#thanks for the ask! #sorry i wanted to give everything decent answers and not ignore them over 'wow several big ask' lolll

[three-drink-amy]

WIP WEEKEND

Thank you to @welcometololaland for creating such a fun game! And to @orchidscript @strandnreyes @inexplicablymine @alrightbuckaroo and @cricketnationrise for tagging me! I was busy all weekend, but I’m playing along now!

1. WIP List:

RWRB:

Cruise AU —Alex and Henry go on a cruise together. Fake dating ensues.

Bodyguard AU —Alex is Henry’s bodyguard.

Potential third installment of Boy, I Fancy You

Lone Star:

Finish Teachers (I’m getting closer!)

Delayed wedding AU —The wedding doesn’t happen directly after Gabriel dies. It takes a while longer.

PR Relationship AU—Carlos and TK are in the spotlight and enter a PR relationship, but what happens when they catch feelings?

2. Which of your WIPs is currently the longest?

Teachers, by a long shot, is the longest. Currently sitting at over 100k.

3. Which WIP do you expect will end up the longest?

Teachers or Bodyguard AU. Probably Teachers, but I have a lot of plans for Bodyguard.

4. Which WIP is your favourite to write/the most enjoyable to write? Why?

I only have 3 wips I have actual words written for. Teachers is very fun! Bodyguard has been trying to steal my attention for quite a while! It’s so fun to write Jonah, as well as the dynamic of TK, Carlos, and Jonah as a little family.

5. Which WIP do you find the most intimidating to write? Why?

Probably Bodyguard. I need the angst and the drama and the desperation to hit right.

6. Which WIP do you experience the most self-doubt about. Why?

Right now, probably the Cruise fic because I’m getting very self conscious about making it as fun as it should be.

7. Which of your WIPs will you seek out a beta/sensitivity reader for? Why?

I have my honorary beta reader/cheerleader all rolled into one with @rmd-writes. She worked her way into my docs ages ago and I can’t imagine not asking her to read it first.

8. Have any of your WIPs been struck by the curse of writer's block?

Yes. Bodyguard did. I started it in January or February of this year, struggled to plan the next chapter, started reading a ton of Lone Star fics, began writing Teachers, and it has sat there like a sad, ignored WIP for months. But I’m coming back to it!

9. Which WIP has your favourite OC? Tell us about them?

Jonah may not be an actual OC, but this version of him kind of is and I absolutely love him! He’s a tiny, loving, teacher’s pet and he is my child.

10. Which WIP is the sexiest?

Cruise or Bodyguard may end up being the sexiest. If I’ve done my job right 😂

11. Which WIP is the angstiest?

Bodyguard or Delayed Wedding will be the winners. Bodyguard for potential angst and bodily harm, Delayed Wedding for emotions.

12. Which WIP has the best characterisation (in your humble opinion)?

Well that is really hard. I am gonna say the cruise WIP because I get to really lean into oblivious Alex and I’m excited for it!

13. Which WIP has the best scene setting (in your humble opinion)?

Cruise fic. They’re on their way to Europe. I can’t wait to get to that part!

14. Which WIP have you worked the hardest on?

I guess Teachers, just for the sheer amount of time I have spent writing it. I started it in February. I would love to finish it by the end of 2023. Let’s hope. I looked back and for an unhinged week when I had Covid, I wrote an obscene amount of words. So, yeah, Teachers.

15. Which WIP do you have the highest expectations for? Why?

Bodyguard or PR Relationship. Both of them lean into tropes I love and so I want them to work.

16. Do you dream about any of your WIPs?

Not that I can remember. Day dream? All the time.

17. Do any of your WIPs have particular complexities that your other fics don't?

I guess Delayed Wedding might because I’ll have to rely a lot on canon. AUs I can be a bit more free.

18. Which WIP is the funniest or has the most humour?

Probably the Cruise fic. Or Teachers.

19. Do any of your WIPs contain outside POVs or a deep dive on a character other than the main ship? How are you finding that process?

Teachers had a decent dive into Jonah, though it’s still from Carlos or TK’s perspective.

20. Tell us one thing we don't know about one or more of your WIPs.

I’m excited to write more angst. And a few of these will be fulllll of angst. Teeheeheee.

I have no idea who has done this. If you have, ignore me! No pressure tagging: @clottedcreamfudge @indomitable-love @cha-melodius @dumbpeachjuice @liminalmemories21 and @lightningboltreader

#tag games #my wips #my writing

[suspendingtime]

So, last week I popped my AO3 cherry.

Anthony Week 2023:

Find my week's answers and Tumblr ramblings along the way here.

It started with me thinking, yeah this could be fun...

Hm, but I doubt I'll think of something new everyday...

By day 3 I was writing about Father Anthony the priest being tempted by a church going Kate Sharma. (I'm actually obsessed with them, and chapter 2 is in the works lmao)

Um, anyway, here's my little series list:

Astride - Mature, Post Canon, Domestic Fluff

Anthony speaks in his sleep and Kate overhears his dream debaucheries. He eventually admits the truth and tells her about the effect their first encounter had on him, and still has on him.

Nectar - General, Post Canon, Domestic Fluff

Anthony attempts to make friends with Nectar the horse, Nectar is not really having any of it at first. Hyacinth swoops in with some sound sisterly advice, and Anthony learns about how Kate got Nectar to like her so quickly.

Temptation - Mature, Modern AU, Fluff + Mild Smut

Anthony has joined the priesthood in this universe, but a new lady has started coming to his services. He's obsessed with her, and it seems she's obsessed with him too. After a session in the confession booth he finally asks her to go for a drink with him. He's celibate so he promises himself and God that he'll only look, no big deal.

Hunt - Mature, Canon Divergence, Mutual Yearning

In this twist of the canon, we spend some time with Kate and Anthony after that gun holding moment during the hunting trip. They get very into their feelings and find out that they really enjoy hearing the other one say their name. Gratuitous heavy breathing, smelling each other, wet chests etc etc.

Obedient - Teen, Post Canon, Domestic Fluff

Anthony's in the first person and tells us about his little entanglements with learning to be more obedient around Kate. Kate is very supportive and teaches him about yoga.

Nursery - Teen, Modern AU, Domestic Fluff

Kate and Anthony are being unhinged parents at Eddie and Miles' sports day. The head teacher is their no. 1 nemesis as she ostracises them away from the competitive action. Kate also has something important to tell Anthony.

Yours - Explicit, Post Canon, Domestic Smut

Simon and Daphne ruin Anthony's birthday getaway plans, he's mad as hell and horny as hell... and hungry. Thankfully Kate comes to the rescue and thinks of a way they can thoroughly enjoy his birthday dinner on their final night away.

That last one will probably get added to at some point as well, how could I not?

Thank you to kateandanthonyweek for setting up the whole thing! Until next time.

💙💜❤️

#anthonyweek #anthony bridgerton #bridgerton #kanthony #kathony #kanthony fanfic #kathony fanfiction #fanfic #ao3

[could-be-kira]

death note theatre kid au

okay this is a lil different from my incorrect quote posting but i had this au in my head based on a headcanon i have and i have a lot of feelings about it so we're gonna talk about it. so, what would happen if we threw all the death note characters in a drama class together ? the answer is pure chaos and hilarity.

character + role rundown :

light - actor, all or at least most of his roles are usually super unhinged, everyone agrees his performance is amazing but they're all slightly terrified of him when he gets up onstage. not nearly as unhinged in real life though, and quite a bit more chill than in canon.

L - writer and casting director, instead of doing preexisting plays / scenes, he writes all original stories for the group to perform. writes certain characters specifically for light and mello because they're his People. is actually also a pretty good actor but prefers just to do it during quick readthroughs and while helping the rest of the group run through lines rather than being up onstage.

misa - costume designer and set artist. this girl is the QUEEN of aesthetics and can very quickly come up with ideas for exactly how the set and costumes should look just based on the tone of the script that she's given. she's very good at editing and making revisions of her designs after both reading the script herself, as well as watching a couple runthroughs of it. very bubbly and creative.

ryuk & rem - lighting and sound, respectively. ryuk should not be allowed in the lighting booth because he basically does whatever he wants to do with it during every rehearsal just to spice it up and make it more interesting but no one trusts him enough to be in charge of anything else so ... lighting it is. rem on the other hand follows the rules of sound to a t. she's always on the ball and knows what she needs to play and when. also, it's important to note that despite the lack of death notes, these two are still shinigami in this au and no one questions it.

near - props master, in charge of making or buying everyone's props and making sure they have them when they need them. sometimes he spaces out and ends up playing with a prop or two himself, and either L or misa will have to give him a poke mid-scene to remind him to go put said props where they're supposed to be during rehearsal.

mello - actor, he holds quite a bit of passion and conviction out of character, and it most certainly carries over onstage. he's not the best with staying calm if he messes up a line, misses a cue, etc. because he's kind of a perfectionist, so even during first rehearsals after only just being given the script, there tends to be a lot of yelling going on and consolidation needed if he does something wrong.

soichiro - drama teacher, this group stresses him out SO much because of all the chaos they cause but he's trying his best </3

matsuda, aizawa, mogi, etc. - additional actors because we can't just have two.

random headcanons :

– light, L and misa are all best friends and make a great team working on stuff for the class together.

– light tried to convince L to get into acting for actual performances while they were going over scenes together in their spare time because of how much L put into how he performed during their runthrough.

– everyone acknowledges that there's something 💅💅 going on between light and L ... except for light and L. after every scene runthrough, at least one of them receives "are you sure you're not attracted to him–?" and despite the fact that they both deny it, they are in fact attracted to each other.

– misa has tried to set the two of them up on multiple occasions to no avail, but she'll get there eventually <3

– speaking of misa, she's a lesbian and dating rem. she used to have some comphet for light but she's over it and now they're besties.

– misa and L have a bet going on regarding how they think soichiro's gonna quit, because they both think he's going to. misa thinks it's gonna be because the group is just generally too chaotic for his sanity to hold on and L thinks it'll be because he keeps having light play some wackjob and he nails it every time

– L's writing coupled with light's acting is starting to make everyone think that if he doesn't make it big as a pro actor, he'll just end up being a serial killer ( they're right, it just happens in a different timeline than this one :D )

– soichiro has had to talk to L about maybe not casting light as the most unhinged character in the script every time he writes something new for the group to perform. L says he'll consider it, but really he's going to make the characters even worse on purpose because a) watching light act like a total nutcase is both incredibly entertaining and attractive, and b) he has a bet against misa to win

i think that's all i have about this au for now but PLEASE come ask / talk to me about it in my ask box because i would love to develop some new ideas and ramble about it more as a theatre person myself :))

#death note #l lawliet #light yagami #lawlight #misa amane #ryuk #death note ryuk #rem death note #remisa #near death note #mello #mello death note #death note au #death note theatre people au #♡ / ( alternate universes . )

[yutaleks]

Aleks .. can I humbly offer ... Maki and Toji ... I have definitely never daydreamt about TojiMaki + Maki's girlfriend!reader. It's not like I have a whole AU of an AU and a whole self indulgent fic about them ... anyways, something about Toji and Maki (he doesn't die in this AU ofc) bonding over the fact they're both the clan outcasts, and him being her teacher (in her fighting skills - for a return in money of course) .. flash forward to you being Maki's girlfriend and being equally curious and weirded out about why her shady and incredibly hot cousin in his mid 40s is always around your apartment to freeload .. until one day Toji just casually joins one of your threesomes and and .... The way he starts touching both you and maki ... The way he- (gunshots)

This reader was particularly unhinged too... Anyways, that's how you realize why -

(geriatric anon)

Also .. I see the grandpa fuckers .. know I'm proud of you guys 🤩

Ok I still have some incest asks to answer sorry yall >.< but omg I have never thought about toji and maki at the same time………… I feel like their personalities could mesh together into a very intresting threesome LMAO like… toji I could imagine being just as sarcastic and cocky as maki… but they would both put so much attention on you.. and the way Toji would tease maki and you since you’re younger than him… 😵‍💫 this is crazy

#geriatric anon #cw.incest