#please this is so unhinged on every level
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SMUT WARNING // MDNI ⚠️ scientist!Chan (Chris) x test subject fem!reader
Scientist Christopher is doing experiments on making pussies come. He has a range of devices (vibrating devices) that he uses on his subject each night, and you’re his favourite subject.
Approx 5 minute read
Unhinged level 🤡🤡🤡
CW: master/sub type role, sex experiments, sex toys, praise, fingering, unprotected p in v sex, cream pie.
Every night he sets you up on the bed that’s situated in his office and gets you to spread really wide, sometimes putting your legs in stirrups. It always starts with a “hole inspection” before moving onto the “stimulation phase”.
Sometimes he uses a small and intense vibrating device on your clitoris, with no other stimulation, and he doesn’t take it away after you come.
Sometimes his goal is to make you come as fast as possible.
Other times he sees how long he can edge you, using a variety of devices. He watches intensely, taking notes on how the stimulation affects you. It usually reduces you to a whimpering, begging, mess.
And sometimes he wants to see how many orgasms he can get out of you. The record is eleven.
But tonight when you arrive he wants to try something completely different. Instead of having you lay on the bed, he gets you to sit on his desk, legs spread wide for him.
You notice he looks unusually disheveled and flustered tonight, as he lowers his chair so his face is at a better level to view your pussy.
“As usual let’s start by seeing how wet you are. Prop your feet up on the desk.” He taps the top of the desk. You comply. You’re so exposed, as usual. And you’re wet, as usual.
“Fuck!” Chris whispers as he spreads your pussy lips apart and runs the pad of his thumb against your opening and dragging it up to your clit.
You moan and lean back on your elbows. “Fuck, Sir… feels good.” You whimper.
Chris looks up and meets your gaze and you can’t help but beg with your eyes for him to make you come.
“You know,” he says quietly and licks his lips as his eyes go back to your dripping pussy. “There’s still something we need to check that we haven’t checked before. Do you know what that could be?”
“N-no… I don’t, Sir.” You stammer.
Chris slides two fingers inside your cunt and starts to dig against your gspot. You cry out at the sensation. It immediately brings you so close to climaxing.
“We need to see if this pussy can take cock.” He said matter of factly, removing his fingers and leaving you feeling empty. Empty and fucking desperate.
“I need to see if it can be done? Can we try?” He asks. He always asks when introducing a new stimulus.
You nod profusely. “Yes sir… please… see if it can take cock.”
Chris stands up in front of you and unbuckles his belt. You have never seen his dick, but you’ve seen the bulge in his trousers countless times before when he’s worked his experiments on you.
Your eyes widen when you see it. Thick. Long. Full. Veiny. How the fuck was it ever going to fit?
“We need to go slowly to ensure you stretch properly. Just relax for me. Can you do that for me?” He says gently stroking your inner thigh with one hand and the other pumping his cock.
“Mmm-hmm. I’ll try..” You say.
“Good girl.” He replies lining the head of his cock up to your cunt. He doesn’t penetrate you. He knows how your body responds to sexual touch. He knows it won’t take long to prep you enough for penetration. The question is, can you take all of him?
Chris reaches into the top drawer of his desk and brings out his strongest bullet vibrating device and places it over your clit. It only takes a moment for your body to respond. You are already starting your tremble. Your arousal is leaking onto the desk.
Chan hums in approval as your pussy clenches and releases as though it’s trying to suck him inside.
“I-I’m going to push inside… ready?” The usually composed Chris was showing signs of desperation. He’s imagined what it would feel like to have you wrapped around his cock for a long time now. How would feel? Warm? Wet? How tight would you squeeze him? What would your pretty little hole look like with his cum oozing out of it.
“Please…” you squeak, bringing Chris out of his thoughts. He won’t have to wonder any longer.
He squeezes the head of his cock into you. Just the tip, and pauses. The stretch is intense already.
“More… please… need more.” You cry. Chris raises an eyebrow “So this is what babygirl needs, hmmm. To be filled with cock.” He puts the vibrator on the desk, then pushes the underside of your thighs wide with his hands to give him as much access as possible. “I need to see if you can take the rest in one go. I’m going to push in the whole way.” His eyes flick up to meet yours for consent.
“Yes. Fill me up, Sir.” You have no hesitation. You need him.
“Okay. Relax for me.” And he pushes his entire length into your cunt. “There you go. There you go…big stretch…that’s it…good girl.”
It’s the best pleasure-pain you’ve ever felt. Chris’s cock stretching your walls and kissing your cervix is nothing like you’d imagined. He is so deep inside you. His hips pressing against your body. Connected so intimately.
For a moment Chris remains still. “Very good… Your pussy can accommodate cock rather well.” He states looking down to where your bodies are connected. “Now we need to check how hard your pussy can take it.”
Fuck! Just that sentence alone makes your insides burn and you involuntarily clench around Chris’s cock. He smirks, taking a mental note of your reaction. He knows you like dirty talk from previous experiments, but he wasn’t sure how you’d feel about it with him buried inside of you.
“Ready for me to move?” He inquires. He’s using all his self control to wait until you’re ready. You sit up, taking Chris by surprise, and reach up to the buttons on his shirt. Your faces are so close that you can feel his breath on your cheek. He looks down to watch your hands unbutton his shirt and pull it off his shoulders, tossing it to the floor. You gasp at the sight of his body and explore his toned muscles with your fingertips. Chris is as still as a statue and hard as stone inside you.
You slowly lift your gaze to find he is staring at your lips. Your hands find the back of his neck and you bravely bring your mouth to his. Chris moans at the softness of your lips. You slowly push your tongue into his mouth. It’s your turn to explore him. He knows your body so well, but this - kissing, fucking - it’s new to you both.
Chris kisses you back fervently and pushes you to lay down on the desk, him still attached to your mouth and your cunt. He starts to move inside of you. Slowly withdrawing and sinking back in. Slow and deep. His hands slide underneath your t-shirt finding your bare beast and he groans as he squeezes it. His mouth kisses every inch of skin on your neck. It’s like the floodgates have opened and he can finally show you how he feels. That you’re his favourite test subject.
Your moans and whimpers echo around the room. You’re desperate for Chris to ruin you.
“Y-you need to f-find out how h-hard I can t-take it.” You manage between heavy breaths.
Chris stops kissing you and leans up to take a good look at you. “You’re right.” He stands up and pulls you closer to the edge of the desk. “Let’s see how hard you can take it.”
You aren’t prepared for the intensity - the brutality - of his thrusts. Each one knocking the breath out of you.
“Fuck, you’re so tight, babydoll. So wet too. You should see the cream on my cock.” He grunts.
All you can do is cry, pant and moan as you have your brains fucked out. His thrusts push you across the desk.
“No baby, you’re not going anywhere.” He growls grabbing your legs and pulling you back towards him. Bending your legs to fold you practically in half, Chris continues to pound against your cervix. He brings a hand to your stomach and presses down to apply more pressure around his cock. This in turn allows his cock to press against your gspot.
“F-fuck!” You arch your back off the desk. “I’m so s-so close.”
“Hold your legs up for me pretty girl.” Chris instructs. Then you feel vibrations on your clit. The vibrator. Your eyes roll onto the back of your head as your legs shake and your cunt pulsates. “I’m fucking coming!” You scream, and as your orgasm hits you squirt all over the vibrator, Chris’s hand and his cock.
Chris doesn’t stop. He doesn’t even slow down. He doesn’t remove the vibrator. He just fucks you even harder. The overstimulation brings tears to your eyes, but the impact of Chris’s thrusts dull the discomfort, and after another moment you find yourself coming again, making you cry out even louder than before.
Chris grunts and growls and then finally stills. Then you feel it, his cock pulsating inside of you as he paints your insides with his hot cum.
He pulls out while you’re still catching your breath, and crouches down so he can watch his cum seep out of your swollen pussy. He hisses through his teeth. “So fucking hot.” Then with two fingers, he pushes his cum back inside your cunt.
“You need to keep this inside of you okay. Let’s not let it leak out too much or I’ll have you keep filling you up.”
You sit up, making the cum ooze out again.
“You did that on purpose.” Chris’s tone is unamused, but there is a smirk on his face.
“Whoops. You’re going to have to repeat the experiment, fill me up again.” You taunt playfully.
“Hmm. I think you’re ready for us to move on to the next phase of the experiment.” He said, ignoring your brattiness. “Next time we will see how your pussy takes it in various positions. Then after that perhaps seeing if it can take two cocks at once. I have a fellow scientist who I think will be perfect for the job.”
……
A/n: thinking of adding more experiments and scenarios…. Maybe even the extra scientist at some point. Let me know if you think I should? And if you would like to be tagged it I do. 😘
This is a slight rework of an older story I wrote. It may be familiar to some.
@channieandhisgoonsquad @noellllslut @itsseohannbin @weareapackofstrays @kangnina @3rachasdomesticbanana @palindrome969 @xxkissesforchanniexx @chuuchuu1224 @fun-fanfics @wolfennracha @chuuchuu1224
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The bomb was unequivocally genocidal and racist but so was the opposing side of the war and it feels disingenuous if not blatantly antisemitic to post callouts about Oppenheimer without acknowledging that he was Jewish
this is the weirdest fucking ask I have ever received and I am posting it exclusively because I NEED to roast this person's whole thought process. I need to.
"The bomb was unequivocally genocidal and racist-" yes, dropping a bomb on multiple Japanese cities is indeed genocidal and racist.
"-but so was the opposing side of the war" yes, hitler was genocidal and racist. However, you are now engaging in a debate about whether bombing Hiroshima and Nagasaki was "deserved"; whether all of those civilians deserved to die in the name of *checks notes* a more complete surrender by the Japanese government than the one already being negotiated.
And, of course, in service of flexing on Russia.
"it feels disingenuous if not blatantly antisemitic to post callouts about Oppenheimer" this is the post anon is referring to. if you click that link and read the post, you'll notice that it is not, in fact, a callout post of Oppenheimer. It's a post about how much it sucks that the movie, "Oppenheimer", does not include or mention at any point the people (particularly indigenous people) injured or otherwise affected by the bomb's testing.
"-without acknowledging that he was Jewish." Sorry. is your argument that it's antisemitic not to mention that Oppenheimer is Jewish when discussing the ethics of doing genocide against Japanese people?
Like this whole argument is that it is actually antisemitic if you don't bring up that Oppenheimer was Jewish any time the bombing of Japan is mentioned, because- and I'm working on inferred meaning now- it's actually okay to do genocide on Japanese civilians, so long as their government is in a political alliance with nazis, and the person "doing" the genocide is Jewish.
And you are arguing this in defense not only of a guy who is in no way being attacked here in the first place, but who also did not actually do a genocide personally so much as, like, work on nuclear technology for the US military (and there are some moral nuances there as well, don't get me wrong, but... woof.)
With the added assumption that Oppenheimer worked on the bomb because Japan was allied with Germany and that he, personally, actively, wanted to genocide Japanese civilians. A thing that, to my knowledge, he has never actually stated- and in fact, it seems that a significant part of the plot of Oppenheimer is that he regretted and attempted to rein in the atomic bomb.
Hey.
Buddy.
I think it's time to learn more about social justice and world history than the little "it's okay to be mad at your oppressors" platitudes that were circulated on Tumblr back in 2014.
#im fucking losing it yall#please this is so unhinged on every level#you are inventing things to be mad about and somehow you are still wrong about whether you should be mad about them.
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Welp, finally got to play Until Dawn: Rush of Blood last night, and honesty guys? It was such a fun game holy shit. Only took me a little over 2 hours to beat the game, and I totally would have started over and hunted for my missing trophies (cause I have a problem lol) and ‘skittles’ if it wasn’t for the fact that I can only use the vr headset for ~3 hours before it gives me a headache 😢
As expected though, game was chock full of all sorts of ud easter eggs and every time I entered an area of a level and recognized exactly where in the game I was supposed to be or I recognized character models that were being reused I got super giggly. Like you wouldn’t believe the amount of times I blew kisses when ever the psycho entered the scene to try and scare/terrorize me...even when Psycho!Josh was being a complete dick and kept killing me like ten times with his stupid axe as all those Matt’s in clown masks kept throwing molotovs at me lol.
Speaking of Josh, you even kinda sorta play as him maybe? Cause when I looked down to see if I even had a body or if I was just a pair of floating arms with guns, I was 100% wearing Josh’s overalls. Which is interesting, cause during the moments after levels when I’m sitting in a chair in the sanitorium I don’t have a body at all so they really didn’t need to go through all that work imo.
And obviously, they reused character models as previously hinted at by clown mask wearing Matt’s throwing molotov cocktails at me. Got to see all the boys in fact! Whether they were Chris, Cabin!Mike, Sanitorium!Mike, Matt, Regular!Josh, Psycho!Josh, and even Fiddler hilariously enough, they just coming at me in all forms. From wearing clown or pig masks to just being plain ass zombies, they were intent on killing me let me tell you. Sadly, though none of the girls made an appearance 😔 (which is a shame cause I totally think would have loved multiple Ashley’s in a clown mask of her own trying to stab me with scissors, it’s what she would have deserved imo) They didn’t even make little cameo’s as body’s on hooks in the mines like the rest of the guys did for some reason. Closest I got to seeing any of the girls was in the second level, and that’s just because a portion of it has all the doll’s that Josh set up in the dollhouse so I kept seeing their respective dolls over and over again.
The only girls that made any sort of appearance were Hannah and Beth (mostly Hannah obvs lol), and that was mostly for jump scare and horror reasons due to being dead and all. Though for some reason Hannah was wearing a bow in her hair?
(Like don’t get me wrong, even being totally dead and decaying she is rocking that hair bow let’s be real. It’s just such an odd choice, and I have no idea why they felt the need to add that to the character model?)
But seriously, if any of you ever have a chance to play this, I really REALLY suggest you give it a go. It’s a super short game but was so fucking fun oh my god.
Cannot wait to give it another run through tonight!
#until dawn#rush of blood#and if for some reason any of you happen to be visiting my area of the world i WILL be forcing you to at least try a level or two lol#the demo of it i played back in august when i was staying at my sisters was just the second level by the way#which makes sense cause it was not only by far the shortest level#but the first level itself if half a shooting tutorial in a carnival before some minor parts in the lodge#whereas the second is basement saw rooms dolls everywhere and lots of pigs#so huge amounts of ud call backs and easter eggs#reason the first half of the first level takes place in a carnival though is because the guy that 'accompanies' you#is larry fessenden as a carny lol#so becomes more and more bloody and unhinged as you go on so that was fun#felt bad every time i got a new highscore though cause i kept knocking ashley off the leader board#im sorry baby please dont hate me 😭#only reason you had scores that low anyways was because you were too scared and jumpy to play properly#absolutely would have creamed everyone else otherwise lol#that being said i do not accept josh having the second highest score#boy is absolutely dogshit at video games and i can not be convinced otherwise sdjfjsdhfhsd#though i will accept the fact that emily got the fourth highest into my headcannon#girl is insane at shooters but would die before letting absolutely anyone else find that out lmao#though bob washington not only being included on that list but getting the coveted first spot#is frankly both hilarious and the weirdest inclusion they could have chosen ajkdhakjhsd
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I already regret making this post, but I think this needs to be a real discussion.
** Please note: I 100% do NOT want goyische opinions on this post. I am not interested, they are not helpful, and I will block you without hesitation even if we've been mutuals forever **
I think we have reached the level of Holocaust inversion on the left that we actually need to recalibrate the entire way we engage with an alarming amount of leftist goyim, because they have decided that their twisted understanding of Zionism as a form of 'apartheid genocidal ethnonationalist fascism' is on the same level as the Nazis.
Now regardless of how that makes you, as a Jew feel, that is how a lot of them are viewing this, period.
That means that you should assume that every single "we punch Nazis, not debate them" anti-fascist principle out there can be applied in full force to Zionists [with the understanding that their definition of Zionist usually means every Jew they don't like or agree with or who doesn't perform their brand of politics to the level they are asking]
Remember that video of an actual, real elderly Nazi that just croaks in the middle of his hateful yelling that went viral? Remember how happy people were when Richard Spencer got punched? Remember the whole "the only good Nazi is a dead Nazi" slogan? That whole idea that you cannot debate white supremacists and fascists because that inherently means debating your humanity and makes their position seem valid enough to debate?
Yeah. For these people, all of that applies to Zionists [and whoever they decide to label as such]
So yeah, an older guy protesting got killed? Same reaction as yelling Nazi dude above. Shrug.
A brutal massacre of Israelis and their neighbors that wiped out 1400 men, women and children? Imagine that some group managed to do that to 1400 Nazi families. We might find the sadistic nature of the deaths distasteful, but really: how many tears are you shedding?
Civilian population centers of primarily Jews are under constant missile shelling and bomb threats? Imagine that we were talking about Nazi Germany instead. Sucks for them I guess, right? 🤷♀️
Their reactions to recent events ranging from silent apathy to outright glee all make sense once you play a Mad Libs game of filling in "Zionist" or "Israeli" in place of "Nazi" or "fascist" in every "punch Nazis!!!1!" slogan.
The fact that Jews are and have been frequently the targets of these fascist groups throughout history and were the primary targets of the Nazis is irrelevant. The fact that we are human people who just want to practice our ancient religion and culture in peace is irrelevant. The bottom line is that the far goyische left has now figured out a way to fully de-person Jews in a social justice approved way, without even the ability to point out how utterly unhinged and counterfactual that take is because "we don't debate Nazis."
I don't know how to fix this.
Genuinely, I don't.
It's like the spirits of their pogrom-loving ancestors have gripped them and instead of whispering "the Jews killed Jesus, poison wells, and thirst for the blood of children," they just substitute out Jesus for Palestine.
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Idk why but baby fushiguro (accidentally) got drunk is funny to me for some reason
It's happened... a few times. Look you can't blame her okay?
Blame Naoya for not keeping an eye on her.
Like what did he expect from his menace niece who has a whole list of forbidden snacks she must try. She just wanted to be like "one of the boys," okay? All her uncles and Grandpa Naobito got to drink a special juice at dinner, why can't she drink it?
Have they said no to her when she asked for a sip? Multiple times. Has that ever stopped her from doing as she pleases? Never.
Baby Fushiguro just leaps out of her seat and dunks down the shot instantly the moment Naoya's head snaps towards the maid to yell at her. Of course, leave it up to Uncle Naoya to order straight up hard alcohol and the concentration is so dangerously high, that any other kid would've died. But since baby Fushiguro has like special powers and she's Toji's kid, she's sorta immune to it. I mean she still gets drunk, and she's only more unhinged now.
Like baby Fushiguro is now running around with double vision, bumping into the wall a few time before jumping up again, she has called multiple curses in her drunk state, but they're all cute harmless ones (except for one, that's a whole ass Mahoraga level curse), and after every one of these curses is dealt with, and Naoya finally catches you, you puke all over him and then immediately doze off.
Did Naoya get his ass beat by Grandpa Naobito? Yes. Did you get your ass beat for drinking by Naoya? Naoya tried to punish you by cutting off your sugar and Hello Kitty supply for a month, but the moment you wailed, Grandpa Naobito was back at beating Naoya's ass.
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Hi! Really love your stories they always scratch my brain (*≧∀≦*)❤️, so I got an idea and wanted to ask what you think about it
I got this question with Sunday on the minigame/event (idk what to call it lol)
"Just as you're about to pull a dusty hard-leatherback book, you hear a gentle whisper within earshot, "Averoy Rosewood's works are notorious for their obscurity," the Oak Family Head Sunday faintly smiles at you. "Perhaps you need more elaboration."
(I couldn't put the image since anon asks don't allow me to put images😮💨, but it's from a Board Encounter in Cosmodyssey)
and when I read it my brain immediately went WHAT IF SUNDAY FILLS THE READER WITH A VIBRATOR ON THE LIBRARY, and him just watching in amusement as he talks about books and asking her questions about them while he plays with the levels of vibrations with a control on his hands and she just struggles to make sentences, so he goes and asks "What's wrong? Are you not feeling well?" To tease her and remind that she's in a public space and can't make much noise unless she wants everyone to know about what they're doing.
Hmm... I wrote this about Sunday, but I feel like maybe it could be about Jing Yuan or Aventurine 🤔, anyways sorry if it sounds weird my brain sometimes goes into unga bonga mode when I think about these men.
Sincerely,
An unhinged anon.
Thank you for telling me. I experienced this event and read the content of Sunday helping us in the library!! Wrote a little bit, I hope you like it 💗🫶
cw: yandere, non-con, abuse of power, abuse of credit, vibrator, harassment
How about you being the librarian at The Family Library? A nerdy librarian. The Family claims that this is a library open to everyone to read and borrow, covering a variety of books and hologram collections.
Sunday, the leader of the Oak Family noticed you. He can accurately talk to you about your interests, hobbies and ideals, and encourage you…but one thing is that you are not religious enough in your belief in harmony. You are too withdrawn…and cannot integrate into The Family. Sing hymns, participate in activities, and protect The Family, others can do it, but what can you do? He cannot allow you to continue in this position under these circumstances. You panicked, grabbing his sleeves and pleading with him through tears. "W-what, I really believe Lord Xipe…I need this job badly! Please Mr. Sunday…"
He offered a plan. He used his gloves to push a delicate small box in front of you. You must put two vibrators in your underwear while on duty to test your professional abilities. If you can tolerate sinful sexual pleasure, you qualify for this position.
"But… Mr. Sunday, can I-can I take a break?"
"Of course. I'm not here to torture you. This is for your and everyone's happiness and harmony, I hope you understand." His words ignited the hope in your heart. "You have 2 hours a day to take them down. Allocate your own time. After get off work, you head to my office and I will check on your progress. You must do this every working day."
"Check?" Your heart sank into the starry sky and was crushed. "Okay. Mr. Sunday..."
These two vibrators… are pearl white and have an angel wings pattern on them. It's silent, but it delivers a surge of pleasure to your private parts, sometimes fast and sometimes slow down. It's not much better when it's slow - it's a long, quiet torture that gives you no relief. You kept your legs still and sorted your books and documents, your underwear getting wet. Every half minute, you check like a hawk to see if you have wet your clothes, fearing that it has become a joke in the eyes of others…
He occasionally wanders into the library to check on your work and ask you to recommend books in a certain category or answer questions about the collection.
"What's wrong? Are you feeling uncomfortable?" Sunday approached you with caring eyes and ruthlessly pushed the controller frequency to the highest level. You lowered your head, holding back tears, your legs trembling. "I-I'm fine. Mr. Sunday. Thank you for your concern."
This kind-hearted gentleman and leader offers to take you to another secluded corner of the library to rest. On the road, Sunday dials down the vibration frequency and doesn't crank it up until you get to the corner. The intense ecstasy immediately hits you to the extreme and stimulates your nerves. You endured your moans, trembling in Sunday's arms as you reached orgasm. His hands caressed your hair like a lovable pet. He commented that your ability to endure needs to be improved.
After you get off work, Sunday asks you to take off all your clothes in the office and fold them on the table. He uses white gloves to inspect and rub your private parts, circling them with his thumb. In the watery light, those fingers slowly inserted between your legs and twitched. He clicked his tongue in disappointment when he realized that his fingers were already wet enough to slide into the inner walls before being inserted. "Not religious enough, are you? What are you thinking about? You're letting pleasure take over your body."
"...I'm sorry!! Mr. Sunday, Please give me a chance…" you begged with a sob, then cummed hard at his disappointed sigh.
#honkai star rail x reader#hsr x reader#sunday x reader#yandere honkai star rail#honkai star rail x you#yandere hsr#yandere hsr x reader#honkai x reader
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Please, please do dark obsessed Carlo Sainz, and she’s his assistant and he’s completely obsessed with her 💗
A/N: Another headcannon, reader doesn't want Carlos but Carlos wants reader. Mentions of smut, biting, slight breeding kink (Carlos just wants reader next to him somehow) just carlos is unhinged in this okay also @chrysanthemonza here ya go babes
It didn't matter where you moved, his eyes always stayed on you
he's your boss and really you didn't care for him
sure he was gorgeous but he sometimes was too petty, dumb
empty headed, and had soul sucking gorgeous brown eyes
you didn't want any part with that
if you could stop working for him you would
but last time you tried that he tracked you down
ruined every interview opportunity and shut down anything else
Carlos sat in your kitchen telling you that you're coming back
you didn't argue
Carlos was in the media pen, you moving about behind the cameras
He paid little attention to the questions giving off basic replies
his hands dent the metal when he sees some male fan
ask you for a picture
smiling you two talk until a dark presence has hairs raising on the
back of your neck
turning around you see Carlos's murderous glare
the guy seeing it bolts and you glare but it holds no
flame to the look Carlos is giving you
he points to his side, calling you like a dog and it fucking works
If he has to attend a meeting you're left on your own
so none of the mechanics or Charles can stare at you
Carlos keeps a firm hand on your back as he leads you somewhere
once you went on a date, and while the guy went to pay
Carlos sits down in his seat
slaps a contract down telling you to sign it
it was a new one but added that you are not allowed to date
anyone while you worked for him
and the only way you can quiet is by leaving this earth or he fires you
yet you knew Carlos would never fire you
he was controlling your entire life
needing his phone once you notice all the pictures in hos phone
are of you nothing else but you
some out in public others distant
through your apartments windows
fuck he even had ones of you sleeping
you wanted to quiet and leave, contract be damned
Carlos sees you looking at the photos and smirks
telling you that they're gorgeous and should let him take ones
of you two together
you laughed and chucked the phone at his face hoping it'd
break a nose or something
in a moment of weakness you crawled into Carlos's bed
the bruises, hand prints, teeth marks on you had you shivering
yes you willing slept with him but fuck did this drive his obsession
to a new level after that night you kept finding yourself in his bed
one night you laid in bed, eyes closed the sound of a click
he was taking new pictures, of course
Carlos hated whenever you walked off or left the bed
once he even took his fingers and shoved his come back in you
telling you that he was going to make you his no matter what
even if it meant getting you pregnant
you slapped him across the face leaving
Carlos just smirked wiping the blood away from his lip
What was the worse, you didn't mind the idea
it made you sick
he was breaking you down, sucking you into the darkness with him
and you liked it
#f1#formula 1#f1 fandom#f1 x reader#f1 x y/n#f1 imagine#formula one#f1 scenario#carlos sainz imagine#carlos sainz jr one shot#carlos sainz x y/n#carlos sainz x reader#carlos sainz x you#carlos sainz headcannons#carlos sainz blurb#dark!f1#tw: dark content#dark!carlos sainz
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losing my mind over the idea of Lucifer being swerved every time by an oblivious reader. He “casually” drops how he used to pull wives at the drop of a hat and reader just goes “that’s great Lucy ☺️” and wanders off while bro is going through the stages of grief
I just love the idea of like, a Reader who GENUINELY IS oblivious and isn't trying to troll him by any means, you ARE just completely unable to fathom this man is coming on to you or legitimately means the things he says.
You're sitting there after Husker made you a tequila for the first time and you're sipping on it and Lucifer's just plopping down in the next stool over, "there was once a time in the past I shared a tequila with a woman, and, well, let's just say 9 months later my daughter Charlie was born!" and you reply without any hesitation at all, "yeah! you know, this is my first time trying tequila but I think it's really nice, although everything Husker makes me is pretty tasty so I've been trying lots of new stuff recently! like the other night I had my first shot of absinthe with Alastor and the taste was so--" and Husker is FACEPALMING and Lucifer is... honestly I think it would be really cute if he ADORES when you show your interests and passions when you start ranting about stuff, so he's like, even when he's mentally gritting his teeth with frustration, he'll be sitting there watching you doe eyed for as long as you want to talk, entertaining any of your long winded tangents or rapidly changing conversational topics
Ugh... you don't understand... the allure of being a tiny fragile human and he's. Well also tiny but he's this ancient inhuman creature who's also just A Silly Loving Family Man. Like. He's ALL POWERFUL. He can pull you into a singing dancing musical where he can make whatever he wants appear, he CAN basically warp materials and reality however he pleases, like... just...he's the small full package who probably HAS a full package if you know what I mean 😏 don't even look at me but characters like him n deku got me thinking about being fawned over by cute guys who are shorter than you but can absolutely easily overpower you without breaking a sweat and are more hung than nature should really allow
Seduction can be a fine line between sexy and cringey and can you imagine he says something to you that just, it just does NOT land. He's got you on your back in your bed and he's above you, with his hand directly under your chin, and he purrs that he wants to plant his seed directly in the fertile soil of your garden and you just LAUGH IN HIS FACE, like "BITCH WHAT?!" Like you CRUSH HIM, FATALITY, man is suffering psychic and emotional damage, you are chipping away at his health bar as you sit there "Haha, you're so goofy Mr Morningstar 🤣 you always know how to make me laugh" and he's HUFFING and laughing in frustration, "OKAY, let's try this again! When I'm done with you, Charlie might have a new sibling on the way!"
"Awww thank you! Charlie's already like a sister to me but I'm glad you're seeing it literally 🥰"
Can you imagine it. The ultimate cockblock. Giving him the ultimate swerve, hitting him with the ultimate grand slam, "YOU'RE LIKE THE FATHER I NEVER HAD" like, how can he possibly stick his dick in you now he knows you see him as YOUR DAD 🥺❤️ He can't VIOLATE his BABY (or can he 😳🤔)
Can't stop thinking about Reader who is completely unaware that this man is unhinged levels of Down Bad until the very moment he's wrestling you down to either fuck you or have a full on love confession. You're just goofing around and palling around and occasionally giving him hugs where you smush your titties or whatever in his face because he's the perfect height and you love to tease him and, then, to YOU, he's 'suddenly without warning' trying to kiss you, say all these passionate things to you, putting his hands in places they've never been before--
I'm still hung up on... the idea of Lucifer impregnating the Reader and you have your little you know cute apple womb tattoo and. I just know he'd be fussing and cooing and like ANNOYING levels of lovey dovey, baby talking your belly before you're even showing. He'd wanna get married with a big fancy flashy wedding to show you off. He'd wanna announce to all of Hell he has a new spouse and want everyone to fear/worship/respect/adore you. He's making this baby SO MANY GIFTS with his own two hands, you have no idea. Duck themed cribs, duck themed onesies, duck themed ducks, he'll make it all! In fact he'll make too many! But, still not enough to satisfy him! Everything has to be perfect, for you, for the baby, for his growing lovely family!
I dunno. Don't expect me to be normal about the fact the man can shapeshift either... he's about to slither right into my incognito tabs...
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Sexiest Podcast Character — Unscripted Bracket — Round 5
Propaganda
Glenn Close (Dungeons & Daddies):
#Propaganda for Glenn Close: one of the other PCs mentions multiple times how hot he is #Actually several characters point it out but especially Henry #Also the only person in a podcast that has to put a disclaimer about not being a BDSM podcast to have had sex during the course of the show
Young hot rocker dilf
Loyal to his dead wife <3
Does in fact smoke weed
BARD!! HES A BARD. HE WAS LEAD GUITAR IN HIS BAND (that he was kicked out of)
His band was a Christmas cover band btw.
Literally the fandom had hot Glenn summer which consisted of drawing him being incredibly hot and sexy
Anti government (ofc)
Kind of cringefail (Disney adult) (was on dilfs of disneyland)
Young and sexy not your style? Then how about HIM AFTER YEARS LOCKED IN A TIME PRISON WITH A DAMN HANNIBAL MASK ??
Lost an eye and wears a fucking eyepatch
One incredibly buff arm
Has a pet rat named after his son <3
Immeasurable amounts of trauma in this man- becomes progressively more unhinged
OH OLD HUMAN BARD ISNT CUTTING IT? FINE
HE BECOMES A FUCKING DEMON
A COOL HOT ONE-EYED DEMON WHO WANTS TO KILL HIS DAD (also sexy)
HE CANONICALLY ENDS CHRISTIAN HELL VIA CHRISTMAS
IS ALSO WAY OVERLEVELED
Becomes a demon hunter for the rest of his existence
Also nonwhite !!! We are done with cringefail whiteboys !!!!!!!!!
I can’t put into words ok just know he is the best plz love him.
Okay but Glenn made a minivan cum by talking to her so
HE HAS A BOOK THAT HE MARKS X’S AND CHECKS FOR EVERY DAY TO SEE IF THAT DAY WAS A SUCCESS OR NOT. TO SEE IF HE DID GOOD THAT DAY. ITS ALMOST ENTIRELY X’S. HE WAS CUCKED OUT OF A SON. AND A DEAD WIFE. HE DIDN’T EVEN GET TO KILL HIS DAD IN REVENGE. There’s absolutely nothing going for him except his sex appeal in his life. Nobody he loved remembers him. He lost his eye. All he has is a pet rat and friends who admit they don’t really like him that much. He was kicked out of his own band. The band was named after him. He was kicked out of the Glenn Close trio. All he could do was deez nuts the big bad and be sexy. If nothing else, then pity him. Look in his eyes. Look at his heart and soul. He did not do the BDSM episode for this I’ll tell you what. Do this for my his sake. Do it for Nick Jr, who needs the prize money to pay for his rat snacks. Do it for his son. For Morgan. Ganbatte.
Glenn is the goofiest sexiest character there is and I will die on this hill! I will ride into battle for him! what Dndads created is truly unique and Glenn is a key part of that and for that he deserves to win. I said it before and I'll say it again - GLENN SWEEEEEP
Can we talk about how he says ‘baby’ casually? Like he just calls people that?? That’s HOT. THAT IS HOT!! He’s also bilingual and knows Japanese!!!! He’s a big dumb idiot with a lot of charisma!!!!!! HE WORKED AT A BDSM PLACE FOR TWO SEPARATE ONE SHOTS. HES SO SAD BUT PLAYS IT OFF LIKE HE’S CHILL ALL THE TIME!! HE DOESN’T THINK OF HIMSELF AS SINGLE BECAUSE HE DIDN’T DIVORCE HIS DEAD WIFE!!! He’s like.. the perfect guy. We need this win.
I’d also like to add the fact I made this. Which is the first 11 episodes edited to (almost) only have Glenn in them <3 which is a level of insanity I hope to reiterate. These took hours to make. I wouldn’t do that for anyone else.
Mod Note: While I will still take "bad dads are sexy" propaganda and "bad dads aren't sexy" anti-propaganda, I kindly request no more discussion on whether or not he was a bad father. This is a sexypoll, not a parentingpoll. If you see a post you strongly disagree with, you can just not reblog it.
Mod Note 2: This tournament is about fictional podcast characters. Please do not vote for the real actress Glenn Close.
Amber Gris (The Adventure Zone: Ethersea):
Middle aged woman who punches sharks to death. My hero
If you love me you'll vote for amber gris I swear to everything holy on earth amen
Amber is butch, instant win
Amber Gris has a negative charisma modifier and she pissed her pants on purpose in order to trick a guard and knock him out. She tied up a dude. She once killed an evil magic shark (they're out for murder. not like real sharks) by punching it and then picked it up and smashed it into another shark, also killing it. She talks in a southern accent. She calls people guppy because it indicates a lack of respect. She has a big pair of magical green arms that come from her stomach. She got a fancy jacket and immediately ripped its sleeves off. She has a gay thing going on with one of the political leaders in the city. She gets in fights with people and doesnt do vulnerability and tries to lay low and not get in any social trouble she doesn't have to. She jumped through a portal into a new world because she could. She's now the god of said world, alone with only afformentioned political leader, who was previously possessed and she had to fight. She spends her time in a bar called the Cloaca. She calls people she doesn't like claspers, because it means shark penis. She and her friend, an old man named Uncle Joshy, sneak attack each other and yell VIBE CHECK! She tries to talk fancy to impress people and she's really bad at it (verily).
She’s everything and more. She’s irreverent. She punches sharks for a living. She becomes God. What more do you need in a butch.
amber gris propaganda: she is straightup the physical embodiment of "women want me, fish fear me." also she's an appalachian post apocalyptic sea captain. that's just objectively cool.
AMBER GRIS IS PUNCHES SHARKS AND IS (one of) THE MOST BADASS BLACK WOMEN PCS IN DND SHOWS IVE EVER SEEN. SHES INCREDIBLE AND A WIN FOR DYKES EVERYWHERE
amber's creator said she was based off of the type of working-class woman you commonly see in appalachia where "this is the sort of woman that you see walking past CVS, and you know that a truck could hit her and it would just split around her as she continued to go pick up whatever she had to do that day." and that's pretty hot
guys Amber becomes lesbian god of the new world with her childhood “”friend””
#amber gris is LITERALLY a middle-aged butch #she would win this entire tournament in a just world
Last time Amber got horny was when she killed that shark
"it was a savage bummer though, don't-- trust me, there's nothing that great about a history. You know? I got one. What did I do, killed a bunch of sharks? Last time I got horny, god and christ I can't even tell you-- well, it was when I killed that shark. But! Hey. We're all just kinda figuring it out."
Moonshine Cybin (Not Another D&D Podcast: Bahumia):
She's a hot elf with mushrooms growing on her. She has 1 level of barbarian. She's bisexual. She shapeshifted into a dragon and ate a god.
how tf does the post not mention Moonshine’s giant boobs her greatest asset
Moonshine has canonically gone down on a woman for a solid hour without asking for anything in return. Moonshine edged a dryad just by kissing them. Moonshine faced down someone being controlled to kill everyone in his path and told him if he still wanted to hurt her, she would take his blows as a friend. Moonshine makes jambalaya for her family and friends. Moonshine mispronounced someone’s name for a month and that woman still wanted to hook up with Moonshine. These are just a few of the reasons why Moonshine is sexy.
shes illiterate
canonically huffs dirty water from a bong
has big tatas
wears a belly chain with a demon trapped in it
almost became the queen of hell
ate a god
turned into a pregnant moose & gave birth
The woman she went down on for an hour asking nothing in return is still hung up on her, 200 years later. Moonshine is unmatched
To be clear the woman whose name Moonshine mispronounced for a month and then hooked up with is the same woman she went down on for an hour, and the same woman who is still flustered over her 200 years later. The rizz is unparalleled. She’s also incredibly kind and accepting of others, and goes out of her way to bolster her friends. The party always requests one big bed.
moonshine cybin is a druid who learned counterspell through sheer force of will. moonshine cybin turned one of the four horsemen of the apocalypse into a dolphin, flew him 60 feet up into the air, dropped him on the ground, and then spit spores into his face to kill him. moonshine cybin turned into a dragon and bit the head off of a double god. moonshine cybin was willing to confine herself to an eternal hell to save the world. moonshine cybin is a dragon rider. you know what you must do.
Amber and Moonshine Together
Look at them. They should not have to fight when they could be gay instead. Imagine the power they would have combined... Every lesbian in a hundred mile radius of the post would swoon. It may be an odd alliance, but from an Ethersea fan to Bahumia fans, i believe this will strengthen both our odds. I have always been insane about Amber Gris but through this poll I have also learned about Moonshine and come to love her too. Take my hand... We can do this together...
OKAY HEAR ME OUT MOONSHINE AND AMBER WOULD GET ALONG SO WELL
appalachian sapphic solidarity!
Art of Amber and Moonshine from @pirateknight.
#Round 5#Glenn Close#Glenn Close DnDads#Moonshine Cybin#Amber Gris#Not Another D&D Podcast#Bahumia#The Adventure Zone#TAZ Ethersea#Dungeons & Daddies#Dungeons and Daddies
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Sub Reader x Bratty Han (plus Doms Lino, Chan and features ot8). Established poly ot8 relationship.
Synopsis: Bratty Han convinces you to let him go down on you without permission from Chan and Lino. They punish you both when they get home.
Word count: 2.9k approx.
Unhinged level: 🤡🤡🤡🤡
CW below the cut.
⚠️⚠️⚠️Warnings: NSFW // 18+ content // MDNI // coercion //dom chan and lino // sub reader // oral sex (f and m rec.) // creampies // unprotected vaginal and anal sex // butt plugs // spanking with a belt // restraints // sex in front of a group // everyone cums all over reader // name calling // disrespecting reader (but it’s consensual punishment) // let me know if I’ve missed anything.
Han. The fucking brat. He loves to rile up the doms and soft doms, pushing their buttons, making them snap. He likes to coerce the subs into messy situations in the hopes of getting into trouble off the doms Chan and Lino.
Han loves to get you into trouble, and for some reason you can’t resist his bratty, suggestive energy. He makes you lose the fear of consequences, or maybe it’s that he makes you forget about consequences entirely? Until, of course you are being thrown face down on the bed, your panties pulled down around your thighs as you get spanked by Chan while Lino fucks your face (although you love that kind of punishment).
You think every idea Han has is a good one. There’s just something about him that makes you want to please him. You want to please him as much as you need to please Chan and Lino. You’d honestly let him do anything he wants to you.
That’s how you ended up here. On the couch in the living room.
“Come on baby.” He whispers, kissing your neck. Your shirt is already off and he’s cupping your breast, under your bra, with one hand, and is three fingers deep inside your cunt.
He knows you are pliable right now. You’ll agree to anything. “Let me taste your sweet pussy.” He thrusts his fingers in hard making you squeal. “So fucking wet. I know you want more than just my fingers, right?”
You shake your head. “Sungie, no. We don’t have permission. What if they find out?” you say timidly.
“No one’s gonna know. Just think about how it’s gonna feel with my hot… wet…mouth,” he kisses you sloppily. “Against your…aching…dripping…pussy?” He breaks away only to lean his forehead against yours. “You are my baby, aren’t you?” he asks with a serious tone. You nod. You are. “So… can I?” he pushes.
“Yes.” You whisper. He is right. Your cunt really was aching for him. His fingers had almost taken you over the edge, but you know his skilled and quick mouth will have you seeing stars in no time.
“You’re my favourite, you know that, right? Always up for anything. Such a good girl.” He says as he makes his way down between your legs. “Spread them wider for me. Let me take a good look at you.” He pushes your legs open and bites his lip hungrily as he inspects your most intimate parts.
“Such a pretty, tight, little hole.” He watches your pussy clench around nothing as he removes his digits. He spreads your lips apart and licks a stripe up from your vagina to your clit. You cry out. Why does it always feel so good? You throw your head back and squeeze you eyes closed as Han laps up all of your arousal that’s dripping from you. Your back arches off the couch when he slips his tongue into your cunt.
“Fuck, Ji!” you cry. “I’m so close.”
And then you hear it. Your phone ringing. You know the ringtone. Han knows the ringtone. Lino is calling.
“Answer it, baby. You don’t want to get in trouble for missing a call from the boss.” Han pauses his movements.
“I… I can’t-”
“Answer it.” Han repeats himself.
And of course you do as he says.
With a shaky hand and a fuzzy brain, you answer the call. “H-hello?” you say softly.
“What the fuck took you so long, kitten?” Lino is angry. Fuck. “Um… I’m sorry, I was just…ahhhh.” You feel Han’s mouth latch onto your clit.
“You were just what? What is so important that it took you more than three rings for to answer the phone?” Lino growls.
You can barely find the words you need. Han is bringing you so close to climax that you can feel a sheen of sweat forming on your chest, and you know your heavy breathing must sound suspicious. You try with everything you have to ignore Han and to focus on Lino.
“I was just….working out… yes…running.” You manage.
And then you feel Han’s fingers in your pussy again, pumping in and out of you whilst he slurps loudly against your clit. The wet, obscene sounds becoming so loud that it threatens to give you away.
“Kitten?” Lino’s voice tries to cut through the overwhelming feeling of pleasure that has taken over your body. It is so hard to concentrate on Lino. Han is too intoxicating. Han feels too good. Han is your whole world. Han is the only person that matters. Han making you come is the only thing you need right now. You would surely die without it.
“Hannie-” you choke and the tension inside you snaps, sending pulsating pleasure through your veins and your legs shaking around Han’s head.
“You have to be fucking joking.” Lino does not sound happy. “Chan and I will be home in one hour. You and Han better be ready. You are going to be so fucking sorry.” And with that Lino is gone.
You lean up on your elbows and look down at the man that just took you to the stars. He is already looking up you with the most smug look on his face. You can’t tell if he is feeling pleased with himself because he convinced you (yet again) to let him have unauthorised access to your body, or that he has managed to get the you two caught?
It is a rather odd dynamic, between you and Han. Han is a bratty little shit, but he is not the boss. Not by a long shot. He just loves stirring up trouble and making life challenging for Chan and Lino. Han thinks it’s fucking hilarious to get himself, and any of the other subs, into trouble. Why? Because punishment is always fun. What he finds the most fun of all is the bemused expressions on Chan and Lino’s face when, as always, you have gone along with some devious idea of his.
You don’t even know why you always go along with whatever Han wants. But you can’t seem to stop yourself.
Even when it leads to this situation right now.
One hour later you and Han sitting side by side on the end of the bed, awaiting punishment.
The bedroom door bursts open and Chan and Lino enter the room - followed by the rest of the members. This was different. Punishment had never involved an audience before.
It makes you wet, and you were sure it is making Han hard.
They look pissed. Lino speaks first. “Everyone take a seat, stand against the wall. Make yourself comfortable.”
Seungmin and Changbin stand against the wall, and Felix, Innie and Hyunjin take places on the bed behind you.
Chan disappears out of the room momentarily, returning with two dining chairs and placing them in front of you and Han. Chan sits himself down on one and Lino drags the other a little further away to the right side of the room.
“Han,” starts Chan, “strip, then sit on that chair.” He nods to the empty dining chair.
Han immediately removes his clothes and takes a seat as instructed. You are right, he is hard. You hear Seungmin snicker to your left. How fucking humiliating.
“Everyone listen up.” Chan addresses the room. “Lino and I have called you all in here today because there are some of you who do not know how to follow rules.” Silence and anticipation fills the room and you start to become nervous.
“Han, in particular, doesn’t think he needs permission to play with our kitten here.” Lino says as he stands in front of you, grasping your chin forcing it so you’re looking into his dark, angry eyes. “Take off your top and bra and go lay over Chan’s lap so you can receive your punishment.”
You do as he says, nervously removing your garments and walking to were Chan sits.
“Lay over me, ass away from Han.” He pulls you over his lap and slaps your ass. Your head dangles by his shoe and you can’t see any of the men in the room. Chan pulls your shorts and panties down exposing your bare pussy and ass to everyone and pulls your cheeks apart. “Look at that boys… Han thinks this is his.” He snarls and roughly prods your pussy with his fingers. You gasp. You are so vulnerable, and so turned on. “Lino, come look at her pretty little holes.”
Lino kneels down next you, and the pair start finger fucking you at the same time. They plunge two fingers each into your cunt, stretching you, opening you up, showing everyone how much of a little whore you are. You begin to moan with pleasure, which apparently is against the rules. “Felix. Come pull the rest of her clothes off.” Chan instructs. “That’s it, Felix. Now shove her panties in her mouth to shut her up.”
Felix comes around and stuffs your mouth with your panties to muffle your whimpers, and then he’s gone again.
From where Han sits, all he can see is all the other men’s reactions to what is happening to you. He is turned on as fuck, but also jealous. He wants to see what was happening to your pussy. He can hear it though. The sopping, sloppy noises of your wetness. His dick is leaking. He knows there’s a good chance he’s going to come untouched. His hand automatically grips his cock.
"Hey, he’s touching his dick!” Innie exclaims, pointing to Han.
“Hyunjin, tie him up.” Chan growls. “This is meant to be a punishment.”
Hyunjin swiftly ties Han’s hands together and someone decides it’s a good idea to tie yours together too. “Let’s tie here’s behind her back.”
All you can do is lay there and take whatever punishment you are given.
“Everyone. This is what’s gonna happen.” Lino addresses the waiting men. “Our little darling here is going to choke on Chan’s cock, while I fuck her greedy little cunt. Your job, boys, is to jerk off while you watch. When you need to cum, you will come up, ask for permission, and choose where you want to cum on her.”
Seungmin, another dom, pipes up. “Hey why do I need to ask permission? And I don’t want to cum on her - I wanna cum in her.”
Lino rolls his eyes. “Don’t forget who's in charge here! But yeah, anyone can cum anywhere on or in her. Except Han. He’s not allowed to cum at all.”
Your pussy clenches at the thought of having everyone’s cum all over you.
“Everyone, get your cocks out.” You hear zippers and belt buckles as they free their dicks. Chan and Lino continue to finger your pussy. They jiggle your ass cheeks, make noises of approval at how wet you are. You feel Lino spit on your asshole and spread it around the rim, then plunge a finger deep into your hole. You tense and clench, making the pair chuckle to themselves. “Innie, give me the butt plug.” You brace yourself as Lino presses the rather large plug into your ass. He is careful as he presses it in. He doesn't actually want to hurt you. In fact, everyone knows everyone else's limits, hard no's, safe words and gestures. Even though you're tied up and your mouth is stuffed with panties, everyone knows if you shake your head rapidly, that means you want to stop.
“Pass me your belt, Changbin.” Says Lino standing up, leaving your hole clenching around the plug.
“We must set an example, mustn’t we Chan?” And without warning you feel the belt hit your ass cheek. You can’t cry out, or grab hold of anything. Chan holds you still. The belt comes down again. A little harder. Your skin stings. Again. Tears well up in your eyes. Another smack with the belt. You squeeze your eyes tight and the tears slip out. The next hit with the belt is on your pussy. It’s not as hard, but the sting is harsh. You hear gasps from some of the onlookers.
“Ummm,” you hear a timid voice next to you. “Can I please cum?” Felix.
“Already?” Chuckles Chan. “Sure. Where you going to put it?”
“The base of her spine please.” Always so polite. The spanking pauses, and you feel ropes of hot cum land on your lower back and hear the sweet noises Felix makes when he cums.
“Good boy.” Lino says proudly. “You did so good.” Chan concurs. “You may leave if you want. Or stay and watch. What do you want to do?”
Felix hesitates. “I’d like to stay and watch.” He says quietly.
“That’s our boy.” Seungmin claps his hands.
You are repositioned so that you are kneeling on the carpet in front of Chan. He lifts up slightly so he can shimmy his sweatpants down, freeing his enormous cock. Chan has the biggest cock out of everyone, and you know you are about to gag and choke very soon. He removes the panties that were in your mouth and fists a handful of hair on the back of your head and shoves your mouth down over his cock without care, forcing you take as much as possible. Then he pushes you down even more. You splutter, gag, and make a whole host of humiliating sounds as Chan pulls your mouth up and down on his cock, hard, fast and rough. You can get out of his grasp if you really want to. But you don't. You love this.
Meanwhile, Lino positions himself behind you, lifting you up enough to push his cock into your sopping cunt. The fullness feels incredible. Lino fucks you rough from the get go, leaving you no time to adjust. With your hands tied behind your back you are 'helpless'. And it’s driving you, and the men wild.
One by one, they come up seeking permission to cum on you.
You’re pulled up off Chan’s cock so Binnie can cum on your tits. You sneak a glance at Han to who looks so fucked out, his dick red and angry. Fuck you want to relieve him of that.
Innie wants to cum in your mouth. “Swallow it, kitten.” Lino instructs. You swallow it all and then continue to suck Chan off. Hyunjin wants to cum on your stomach, so again you’re lifted upright so he can mark you. Felix comes back again, this time wanting to cum in your mouth.
Finally Seungmin is ready to give you his load. “I’m going to cum in her cunt.” He announces. Lino grumbles and pulls out of you, and you feel Seungmin at your entrance. He thrusts into you hard making you gag on Chan’s cock. He digs his fingers into the side of your body and snaps his hips three times and you feel him release himself deep inside you.
“I’m not sticking my cock back in there after you. I don’t wanna feel your jizz on my dick.” Lino sounds irritated. Seungmin laughs and leaves the room.
“You’ll have to fuck her ass then, mate.” Chan says between clenched teeth. He was close to cumming.
“Hmm, you’re right.” Lino pulls the plug from your ass and pushes his thick cock into you, grasping your neck for both leverage and to feel you choking around Chan’s cock. Your pathetic cry is too much for Chan and he cums down your throat. “Swallow it.” Lino says from behind you, pounding his cock into your ass with an unimaginable force. You swallow and open your mouth, showing Chan your empty mouth.
You can feel Seungmin’s cum dribbling down your inner thigh, Felix’s cum dried on your back, and your breast and stomach are sticky. You are a mess as Lino fucks into you, holding you up by your tied arms. He pulls you against his chest, his mouth close to your ear. “Look at him,” Lino hisses, referring to Han. “I don’t know why the fuck you let him get you into this mess. Maybe you forgot who owns your pussy, hmm? Maybe you forgot I own your ass.” He growls. He reaches a hand down to your clit. “Now cum for me.” He demands.
You’re close but you can’t quite get there. You look at Han again. His cock. Yes, you love that cock so much. Closer. His trim waist and defined torso. Yes, you love to have your legs wrapped around it. Almost there. You look up to his face. His eyes. They are locked on yours. Encouraging you to cum. Fuck!!!! You clench around Lino’s cock and he pumps into you a few more times before you feel him paint your walls.
Lino pulls out and plugs you back up. “I own your ass. Don’t forget it.” He says and stands up. He and Chan pull their pants back on. You look around the room. It’s only now you realise that the rest of the men have left.
You see that Han has cum untouched, cum plastered on his abdomen, but he is still hard as stone. Chan unties him. “Now you clean her up - with your mouth… and then fuck Seungmin and Lino’s cum back into her holes.”
You and Han are alone again. He’s at your side untying you, immediately licking the cum off your tits, then kisses you. “That was so worth getting you into trouble.” He smirks and picks you up to lay you on the bed.
He hovers over you and gazes at you tenderly. “You are my baby, aren’t you?” He whispers.
You nod.
“Then… will you let me?”
“Let you what? They’ve given you permission to fuck me.” You say.
He shakes his head. “Will you let me make love to you? Slowly?”
Typical, bratty Han, still not wanting to follow instructions.
You nod. “Yes.”
A/N: I kinda wanted to end this on a sweet note, and make Hannie still unable to follow rules, like if he’s told to fuck her, then he wants to go slow and tender. But… he is a sneaky little shit getting her into so much trouble.
@kangnina @noellllslut @channieandhisgoonsquad @weareapackofstrays @wolfennracha @3rachasdomesticbanana
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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
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Prompt:
Pairing: Mafia! Octavinelle and MC/Yuu/ Reader
Genre: Hurt/ Comfort ig? Slight crack
TW: Kidnapping, blood, minor character deaths, mc does get a little hurt, mentions of guns, usage of guns, violence (because mafia au), mc also curses at one point, talk of killing people, the prefect wears earrings and has hair (i saw someone use put this in warnings once). Let me know if I should add anything else!
AN: First request for TWST ^^ It's my first time writing for the Octavinelle trio, so please forgive me if they're ooc, I tried my best. This was very fun to work on! Send me asks if you wanna know more about my version of mafia!twst because I had so many thoughts about this entire au but I couldn't fit everything in one post lol. Not really happy with the ending (when am I ever) but I hope you enjoy!
"I'm telling you, you don't wanna do this," You warned your captors for the third time as they checked the cuffs holding you up by your arms. It was an uncomfortable position, kneeling with your arms restrained with metal chains above your head. Your shoulders felt sore, and with how every movement made the skin of your wrists rub against the harsh metal, you just knew that you were going to be sporting some pretty nasty bruises around them.
Vil was going to be furious about that.
You watched as the leader came into your range of vision, a self-satisfied smirk painting his face as he walked over to you. There was quite some distance for him to cross to reach you, and he took his sweet time as he leisurely walked over to you. Probably an intimidation tactic, just like how making you kneel was.
You looked at him, unperturbed. Your eyes roamed over the man, who for all his intimidation tactics, was nothing but a poor little boy way in over his head. A reckless little minnow who didn't know his place, as Floyd would say.
Speaking of Floyd. You grimaced at the monstrosity of an outfit the man was wearing. In all your time as a valued member of the mafia, you had seen many outlandish outfits, courtsey of the more openly unhinged Leech twin and the field of work you were in (power had a way of killing the fashion sense of people and letting it rot inside their head). But this... was on a whole another level.
You mentally lit a candle for everyone who had to witness the... very unique display.
A sharp slap snapped you out of your thoughts. 'Did this man, just backhand me? Well fuck you too bitch', You thought to yourself as you looked back at the still smirking man. You could feel a bit of wetness at the edge of your lip, a slight stinging also being felt at the same spot. Your tongue darted out, recognizing the metallic taste of blood as you gingerly licked at the small wound.
"So this is the little Prefect of Night Raven, hm? How... pathetic. Truly, the mafia organization has fallen if they allow the likes of you to hold any position higher than a discardable pawn," he huffed, and you resisted rolling your eyes. Here comes the villainous monologue, you thought to yourself.
As the man spoke, you took note of the people in the room. Apart from you and the man, there were five other men, all very familiar faces. All of them were earlier members of NRC, who left the organization 'honorably' before your appointment as the consigliere to Dire Crowley, the main boss.
There was nothing honorable about the way they were treating you right now though.
Very reluctantly, you listened to the man's speech about how he was basically aiming to cripple Night Raven Mafia by killing you. You forced back a yawn through the speech that was supposed to strike fear into your heart; unfortunately for him, you dealt with seven very unpredictable and occasionally difficult underbosses on a daily basis. Said underbosses must have already been informed of your forced absence.
Now it was just a matter of waiting and watching to see exactly who would come to your rescue...
The door slammed open as soon as you thought that, and the eyes of every person in the room turned to it. You smiled as a very familiar face entered the room, his mismatched eyes dark and foreboding.
"Hi Floyd," you chirped, unfazed by the frown on his face and the dangerous aura around him. Floyd's eyes met yours for a moment, brightening at seeing you, before turning even harsher when he saw the state you were in; clothes (gifted to you by Riddle) rumpled, carefully styled hair (courtesy of Vil) in a disarray, and a slight swelling on the side of your face you were struck at (which would send nearly everyone into a murderous frenzy).
"Who touched my Shrimpy?" Floyd growled out at the men. "Don'tcha know that I'm the only one allowed to rough them up? You're just begging to be squeezed to death."
At this point, the men, who were earlier frozen in fear, started to fumble with their guns. Before they could even get their weapons out, gunshots rang throughout the room, each man dropping to the floor one by one.
"Ah, pardon me, but I would prefer if you did not aim your weapons at my brother," a familiar voice spoke from behind Floyd to the now dead men in the room.
You grimaced at the blood now flowing out and seeping onto the floor, the puddle growing in size and inching closer to you.
"Jade, get me out of these things," you said, successfully getting his attention as you rattled the chains holding you up.
"Ah, of course dear Prefect," Jade hummed, and you did not need to look at his face to know that he was smiling. Jade walked over to you, stopping only to take the keys to your chains from the pocket of the leader. Placing the key into the lock and turning it released you from your uncomfortable position, and you yelped as you flopped onto the ground unceremoniously.
"Shrimpy~" Floyd's rapid changes in mood was one thing you did not believe you would ever get used to, "did you really get kidnapped by this sad little bunch of minnows?" He asked, pulling you to your feet and slightly spinning you.
"Shrimpy is so helpless~"
"Indeed," Jade smiled, and you felt a shiver run down your spine. You would never get used to the all too malicious upturn of Jade's lips either. He took you from Floyd's arms, ignoring his twin's grumbling as he dusted off your clothes. "Pray tell, how could such... insignificant little men capture you, dear Prefect?"
Before you could answer, a third voice rang through the room. "Jade! Floyd! I told you not to kill any of them!" Azul huffed as he entered your line of vision, glaring at the two men who sandwiched you.
"Ah, pardon me Azul, but they were going to aim their weapons at Floyd. Not to mention how terribly they were treating the Prefect," Jade hummed, not at all repentant of his actions. Azul huffed in frustration, glaring at his consigliere.
You gave him a little wave, and Azul's eyes softened as they met yours. He looked calm and collected as he walked over to you, but the trembling of his hands as he held yours gave his true feelings away. His eyes quickly scanned your body for wounds, narrowing in displeasure at the reddened skin around your wrists and the cut on the corner of your lip.
"Prefect."
"Azul," you said, not missing the way his eyes relaxed considerably as he saw you wearing the seashell earrings he had gifted you. "Ah, so that was how Idia-san found out you were kidnapped almost immediately," he hummed. You raised an eyebrow at his words.
"The earrings have trackers in them," Jade helpfully explained.
"Well, in any case, we must take you back to the Lounge. Everyone else must have assembled there by now."
"Huh? Why?"
"Because, Prefect, we were supposed to bring your kidnappers so that a joint decision could be taken for their punishment," Azul sighed as he pushed his glasses up his nose slightly.
You glanced at your kidnappers, wrinkling your nose as the blood puddle slowly crept closer to your shoes. "They're dead."
"A most unfortunate incident, yes. But, nevertheless, their identities will suffice for now. This just goes to show that we must never leave any loose ties," Azul said ominously. "Perhaps my dear colleagues will learn a lesson from this."
"... Sure. And how did you three manage to make them stay back at the Lounge while you carried out this rescue mission?"
"The heads found it best to send us three since we were most likely to bring your captors back alive," Azul said, glaring at Floyd who just roamed around the room disinterested in the conversation. "Well, that is what Crewel and Trein thought, at least."
You chuckled. "I don't think the outcome would've been any different with the others either so... let's just get to the Lounge."
Azul smiled. "As you wish, Prefect."
#first time writing for octavinelle bbys im very nervous#apologies if they seem ooc or mischaracterized i didnt mean to#here goes nothing#twst#twst writing#twst fanfic#twst octavinelle#octavinelle#twst azul#twst jade#twst floyd#twisted wonderland x reader#disney twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland x you#twosted wonderland x yuu#twisted wonderland x mc#azul ashengrotto#jade leech#floyd leech#ice writes#my writing
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kiwi's fic recs - volume one!
Hi, friends!! It's been a few months now since I came to tumblr, and in that time, I have read a lot of fics. Like, a lot. So, I thought it was about time I compiled some of my faves into some appreciation posts in order to show all of these amazing authors some much-deserved love!!!
This volume consists of all my October reads, to maintain some semblance of timeliness (and to give myself less of a headache!). I will be creating subsequent volumes, so this functions as a kind of trial run - for now, I hope you'll find something below that you enjoy. I can pretty much guarantee that you will!
You'll find my scrambly thots listed next to the -> under each fic. For instalments of series I've read in the past month, I've linked the masterlist, so you can find all the chapters in one spot!
Please see individual fics for tags and warnings. Not every work is going to work for everyone, and that's okay! A large proportion of these fics are 18+ only. Thank you kindly xoxo
JOEL MILLER
Thirsty --- @chloeangelic
-> stepdad!joel fucks me in the kitchen?? oops i'm signing up
-> this is quick and dirty and really fucking hot
-> joel's characterisation and the writing in this fic is unbelievably sexy, what a fic omg!!!
punishment --- @joelsgreys
-> beast!joel didn't work out, so we're getting fucked by lumberjack!joel (i am not complaining)
-> i know you said you wrote this in one night but baby it does not come across that way like.. this is delectable
-> i'm dressing as belle next year
strawberry --- @joelsgreys
-> self-indulgent fics are what we need more of in this economy!!!
-> such a perfect one-shot injected with so much obvious love and care that you have no choice but to become obsessed
Divine Dynasty [series masterlist] --- @cavillscurls
-> i'm obsessed with this series and with the new prequel, i'm in much deeper now
-> you can tell mya cares so deeply about these characters and this world and every single sentence puts that across
-> the writing in this series is so good and the dynamic between joel and reader is really special, everyone read this now pls
Eyes On Me [joel x reader x tommy] --- @cavillscurls
-> it's hard to sum up my thots when i've already annoyed mya with a huge reblog but this is so. hot.
-> gorgeous gorgeous communication in this relationship and the aftercare is everything
-> tommy can watch anytime i stg
Someone to Lean On --- @cavillscurls
-> joel miller braids your hair and eats you out
-> need i say more??
Sugar & Spice [sequel to Soft & Sweet] --- @cavillscurls
-> some of the best joel characterisation i've seen on this godforsaken site and i mean it!!
-> just discovered i'm saving myself for joel miller
-> such an entrancing read and with mya's writing that is no surprise
creep it real! --- @swiftispunk
-> halloween specials will always have me kicking my feet but this is on a new level han
-> my reblog was a little unhinged but i will be more composed here
-> the dialogue is genuine perfection, the backstory we get on reader is so entrenched in the story (esp. for a one-shot!!), and the smut sent me to mars
-> joel opens a beer with his belt buckle. will you read it now?? yeah, that's what i thought.
your summer dream [series masterlist] --- @swiftispunk
-> han already knows how much i love this series but i'll scream abt it here too
-> this series lives in my head rent-free
-> if you haven't read it, literally what else are you doing??
-> i've reread this a million times and it will never be enough
trick or treat --- @tieronecrush
-> halloween!joel
-> woody!joel
-> me and sam screaming at each other in DMs about those huge shoulders in that cow-print vest
-> a seriously gorgeous rumination on being a dad to two girls and the insecurities that come with getting older
-> sarah and ellie being adorable, reader and joel being adorable, everyone being adorable
hot & heavy [series masterlist] --- @tieronecrush
-> can you tell i love sam??
-> she put out the bangers this month fr
-> one of my favourite series ever
to freeze or to thaw --- @joelscruff
-> absolutely stunning writing
-> such a short and captivating fic with some seriously filthy smut (in the snow!!)
-> made me feel like i needed to run away into the woods and find a slightly evil man to keep me warm
-> this scratches every itch just right and in so little time.. i'm blown away
YOU'RE POISON, BUT A GOOD KIND --- @northernbluess
-> i screamed about this fic in my reblog and in my DMs with el but this is SO FUCKING GOOD Y'ALL
-> the desperation, the imagery, the smut??? screaming and shaking
-> i am a sex pollen lover and i am not ashamed to admit it
Watch Party --- @sweetercalypso
-> literally such a fun and creative idea!! and so hot too oh my god
-> sign me up for a railing by poltergeist!joel
Texas Hold 'Em --- @sweetercalypso
-> strip poker babyyy
-> bold!reader and bold!joel while we're at it!!
quit it --- @iamasaddie
-> dear god the oral fixation
-> psychological freudian smut is not what i expected this month but it is what i received and it is what i now crave
a lover's pinch [series masterlist] --- @hier--soir
-> some of the most stunning writing i've seen on here
-> so many references to academia and literature that simultaneously trigger me and make me horny
-> the writing will fling you into the sun i promise
-> an absolute must-read, perfect in every way
Something Bad --- @fettuccin-e
-> kinktober: corruption
-> i'll s*** his d*** anytime anywhere anyhow
made by hand --- @tinycozycomfort
-> alex. writes. poetry. bitches.
-> copying the comment i left in my reblog bc it sums up my thoughts about this fic
-> this fic is a masterclass in brevity, emotion, smut—it's so good. everyone please read it immediately
flowering --- @tinycozycomfort
-> sub!joel yes please??
-> my first fic of alex's and i fell in love
-> baby... the dialogue.... i was shocked. i was in tears almost
go ahead and cry, little girl --- @party-hearses
-> actual poetry here folks
-> ridiculously sexy but also ridiculously gorgeous writing like??? HELLO?
-> so real about needing to have the feelings fucked out of you
never enough --- @amanitacowboy
-> the dirty talk in this fic.....
-> holy shit
-> filthy and nasty and hot and perfect yupyupyup
a matter of time --- @cupofjoel
-> made me cry
-> absolutely stunning writing (but it's bea, what you u expect)
-> a vulnerable and emotional joel is something we rarely see but is such a treat
-> the ending!!!! i read this on the train so the ppl behind me got a good show
body language --- @cupofjoel
-> the first fic i ever read by bea and i never looked back!!
-> so fucking HOT
-> cameras? cameras.
love me better, kiss me back --- @bastardmandennis
-> snowball kiss!!!
-> i thought about this for so long after i finished it
be my daddy --- @bastardmandennis
-> my first introduction to lexi, and fuck what an impression
-> huge huge fan of the writing style and the obvious care and dedication that went into this fic
-> it's all perfect just read it
-> dad!joel hehehe
Old Habits --- @wheresarizona
-> such a palpable and genuinely sweet dynamic between joel and reader, plus fantastic smut!!
Sins of My Father [series masterlist] --- @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin
-> angela indulging my sugar daddy fantasies tbh...
-> *in stefon from snl voice* this fic has everything, protective!joel, sugar daddy!joel, infidelity
grab the bull by the horns --- @proxima-writes
-> save a bull ride a miller!!
-> i am SAT for male whimpering
-> such a fun fic to read and the writing is so dynamic
my special toy --- @millerscoffee
-> turned me into a rabid animal that needed to be put down
-> the amount of daddy!joel i've read this month has changed me as a person
JAVIER PEÑA
When You Wish on a Shooting Star --- @mandoisapunk
-> husband!javi will forever occupy my mind [pussy] and soul
-> wedding anniversary antics!!!
ONLY ANGEL [series masterlist] --- @tieronecrush
-> ch. 6 just came out and i did scream actually!!!
-> such a sweet and sexy and sad rollercoaster of emotions and with such beautiful writing because... it's sam... so obviously
-> javi and bebita are so beautiful and i need them to be happy pls and thank you (looking directly at you bestie)
FRANKIE MORALES
The First Time --- @fettuccin-e
-> frankie has a big dick pass it on
-> size. kink.
i only have eyes for you --- @tieronecrush
-> this one is pure fluff, like so fucking sweet
-> frankie gets glasses babyyy
-> really just a heartwarming fic & a total pick-me-up
-> frankie getting the love he deserves
Tag-Teaming [frankie x reader x santi] --- @fettuccin-e
-> kinktober: threesome
-> dizzy and throwing up and crying
DIN DJARIN
Just This Once --- @fettuccin-e
-> bestie is making the rounds in this wrap-up
-> din cannot physically control himself he is down horrendous and it's super hot
-> for such a quick turnaround for all of your kinktober fics your writing literally never disappoints omfg.
DAVE YORK
Obsession --- @tropes-and-tales
-> kinktober: voyeurism
-> SUCH an underrated dave fic!!! oh my god!!
-> the writing has so much personality and i loved every single sentence!
Whew, that took just about forever. I hope I didn't fuck anything up lol. If you've made it this far, congratulations!! I sincerely hope you'll check out some of these amazing works because I really love and admire every one of these authors.
If you have any recs of your own that you would like to send me, my inbox and DMs are always open! Until the next volume, besties!!
xoxo kiwi 🥝
#kiwisbell's recs#fic recs#october wrap up#joel miller#javier peña#frankie morales#din djarin#dave york#joel miller fic#din djarin fic#frankie morales fic#dave york fic#javier peña fic
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Rewatching organic chemistry lectures to prepare for an exam, but instead of taking notes, I’m writing down the weird things my professor says. And so…
An incomplete list of the unhinged stuff my organic chemistry professor has said:
Rule one in organic chemistry: carbon is a working girl. It bonds with basically everything
This is an alcohol. Something quite popular amongst students, I believe
A thiol kinda looks like an alcohol. But alcohols are usually enjoyed, whereas thiols is what skunks use when you’re stupid and unfortunate enough to piss them off. Do with that what you will.
There will come an age when your doctor gets worried about your high cholesterol levels, which often makes people wonder why we even have cholesterol if too much of it is so unhealthy. Let’s say it like this: if suddenly all your cholesterol vanished, your doctor would be pleased but you wouldnt be. You’d be a puddle on the floor.
How to know whether an anion is stable? Rule number one, and I’m sorry to say this, but gentlemen, your girlfriends lied. Because size does matter.
No self respecting scientist uses the IUPAC- naming system. But you still need to know it for the exam. Sucks to be you
An addition reaction is the most romantic reaction in chemistry: two things become one. But romance never lasts, and so just like that, one thing can fall apart into two again
For the exam, the bar is nearly on the floor. Just don’t write anything that is impossible and you’re good. And yet every year there are students who dig beneath the bar and fail anyway
The Sanger reaction was named after chemist Frederick Sanger, who is the only chemist to ever receive 2 Nobel prizes in chemistry. Marie Curie was also a chemist who got 2 Nobel prizes, but one of those was for physics so that’s a bit more complicated. Of course, there’s also the chemist Linus Pauling, who got 2 Nobel prizes as well… but one of them was the Nobel prize of peace and those don’t count
#funny#science#chemistry#organic chemistry#college#student#stem studyblr#study blog#studyblr#study motivation#stem student#stem academia#women in stem#stemblr
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원샷! (One-shot!) - MYG x F!Reader
pairing: Doctor!Yoongi x Doctor!Reader
genre(s): crack, fluff, brief smut
au(s): medical AU, idiots-to-lovers (not quite yet)
word count: 3.1k
warnings: cynical Yoongi, hospital talk, artificial insemination and pregnancy, sperm for insemnation switched without readers’ knowledge/consent, Yoongi has no filter, 20,000 different ways to say sperm, unhinged behaviour from OC and Yoongi, probably HIPAA non-compliance, intoxication, marijuana use, an almost-kiss, did I mention they're idiots (affectionate), mentions divorce (OC's parents), bi-panic from Yoongi, implied masturbation (m)
rating: 18+
summary: Yoongi's friendship with you is the one bright spot in his life. So when you tell him you're ready to have a baby, he thinks this will finally be his shot to take your friendship to the next level. Cue a few shots of soju, and one insemination party, and Yoongi suddenly has a huge problem on his hands.
a/n: Old rom-coms (aka pre-2012) are the best. I was rewatching The Switch the other day and felt a burst of inspo to write this cute little au! This will probably be a oneshot (get it?) for now, but never say never! I hope you enjoy!
In his somewhat short career of practicing medicine, Yoongi had become an expert people-watcher, you could say. For instance, he’d been privy to the same morning commute as hundreds of other strangers in the city for the past five or so years. In fact, he was so used to seeing their faces that they didn’t seem like strangers at all. There was the old man who rode in the same car he did, always clutching what seemed to be a bouquet of flowers or a baked good. Maybe it was for his wife. Or his mistress.
Yoongi puckers his lips sourly at the unsavory thought, shuddering at how cynical he’d become. Instead, he turns his attention to the girl sitting in the corner. She had to be in middle school, he thought. Only middle school could put that despondent look on the face of someone so young. Maybe she’d been jilted by a crush. Or more likely, she’d gotten a B on her math test and was about to walk into a lecture from her parents the moment she came home from school today. Yoongi knew the feeling all too well.
You see, it was Yoongi's job to be in the business of people. Being a doctor meant that he dealt with people all day long. They flitted in and out of his life like the flies that buzzed past his ears every time he entered the subway. And he always surprised himself with how much he could learn about them in a single meeting, or before they even walked into the room.
Which is why nothing could have prepared him for what awaited him when he walked into the hospital cafeteria that morning. Sweat streamed down his back in rivulets from the summer heat, drenching his scrubs. And yet, he still insisted on grabbing a piping cup of black coffee from the drinks counter.
“It keeps me awake for longer,” he grumbled when the man at the checkout counter shot him a quizzical look.
His eyes scan the crowded array of chairs and tables outside the café, looking for the one person who could perk up the start to another grueling work day, even more than his cup of coffee was capable of.
You wave to him enthusiastically from the crowd, bouncing up and down like a child waiting for a lollipop. It was probably from all the kids you hung around with all day. Peds was no joke, and Yoongi admired your ability to keep a bright, starry-eyed attitude when his own stomach turned at the thought of sick children.
“Please don’t tell me you saw another man with flowers who might be cheating on his wife,” you raise an eyebrow at the scowl on his face as he approaches the table. “Either that or today’s the day you finally regret not getting an iced coffee.”
Running a hand through his hair, he sighs, annoyed yet also mildly amused by your teasing.
“I told you, it–”
“It keeps you awake for longer, I know, I know,” you beam at him.
“It’s actually neither of those things,” he groans. “Today it was the old lady in the elevator who asked me what year of high school I was in.”
“That’s what you get for having a stupidly perfect face,” you quip, waving your fork at him. “You know Seungkwan from Derm would freak if he knew you only washed your face with bar soap?!”
Although you chuckle at your own joke, Yoongi can’t help the way his heart twists at your words, resisting the heat that rises to his cheeks when you compliment his face. But before he can think about it too long, he falters, noticing that your attention is buried deep within your pile of scrambled eggs, and you’re unable to look him in the eyes.
“You know, Seungkwan from Derm would also tell you that frowning causes premature wrinkles, ___,” Yoongi responds, and you lift your head up, eyebrows furrowed in worry. His hand twitches, and he fights the urge to reach out and squeeze your hand to reassure you everything will be alright.
You finally reach into your bag, pulling out a piece of paper.
“Look at these labs,” you push the paper towards him. “What do they say to you?”
Yoongi stares intently at the paper, trying to piece together this patient’s story, despite you failing to provide any helpful demographic information.
“Iron count, a full blood panel, HcG, any infectious diseases, genetic markers—” Yoongi pauses when he realizes. “You’ve got a pregnant kid on your hands?”
The paper is snatched from his hands before he can finish, your face redder than a tomato.
“No silly, it’s not a kid. I-it’s me. Those are my levels. Do you think they look okay?”
Yoongi can’t prevent his jaw from dropping wide open. He’s sure he must look like an idiot, staring blankly while you blink your eyes, waiting for him to respond.
“You’re having a baby?” he chokes out. The sick, twisty feeling in his stomach has returned, only this time it's a thousand times worse.
“Not yet. But I’m trying,” you admit sheepishly, avoiding eye contact.
“So what, you want me to have sex with you?” Yoongi blurts out before he can stop himself, and he immediately sees you freeze. Sometimes he really hated that he had no filter when it came to his thoughts. That, combined with the fact that he’d had a crush on you since you nearly knocked him over with your Heelies during his first week of work, and Yoongi had found himself in a sticky situation more often than not.
“No!” you immediately blurt out, growing more flustered when Yoongi frowns. “Not that, I mean–, that’s totally beside the point, completely irrelevant to my clinical question, I, I– I’m using a sperm donor okay!”
For the second time in a matter of minutes, you’ve rendered Yoongi completely speechless.
“Is this about Kihyun?” he finally asks. “Or Doyoung? You know, I know you haven’t had the best track record with relationships in the past, but jumping into having a baby with a random guy is definitely not the solution!”
“It’s not about them!” you sputter, unable to stop your voice from rising. “It’s about me, okay! My choice to be an independent woman, raising a child, who doesn’t need a man to help her at all! I get paid well, I have all the resources I could dream of, a strong support system. My life is in session!”
Yoongi has to bite back at chuckle at you quoting one of the various hospital brochures that decorated every reception desk and spare table.
“So are you gonna help me find some jizz, or not?!” you finish, only to look around and realize nearly a dozen pairs of eyes are on you. Perhaps you’d said that last part a little too loudly.
“I-, I gotta go,” you whisper, slinging your bag over your shoulder and running as fast as you can out of the cafeteria, leaving a wistful Yoongi to ponder over the fact that you hadn’t even bothered to finish your breakfast.
You might have thought that breakfast was the end of your baby-making discussion, but judging by the way Yoongi cornered you immediately during the mid-afternoon patient lull, it seemed he hadn't.
“So you’re looking for, uh, semen,” he says, mortified when the charge nurse on your floor whips her head around to glare at him. He pulls you into an alcove by the windows, immediately realizing what a wrong move that was when he can smell the strawberry shampoo you’d used this morning, or count each one of your long eyelashes.
“What’s wrong with mine?” he asks innocently, before realizing he’d messed up yet again. The uncomfortable look on your face tells him as much.
“Listen, Yoongi, I’m sure you have great sperm, killer sperm even. Not in a murder-y way, you know, but like in a Darwinian kinda way. But we’re best friends, wouldn’t that be weird?”
“We don’t have to have sex, you know. I could just nut in a cup and hand it to you. I mean we’ve literally cleaned vomit off each other, how weird could this be?”
A strangled giggle erupts from your throat, and you’re bouncing on the balls of your feet. Yoongi knows you well enough to know your untapped anxiety is preventing you from saying what you really want.
“Okay, spit it out ___.”
“Well, no offense, Yoongi, but you’re kind of neurotic. And not to mention a little pessimistic, maybe even nihilistic…”
“Damn, ___. You could have just said you didn’t want my swimmers. No need to hit a man where it hurts.”
You smile, fondly recalling the time you two played for the hospital basketball team, only for Yoongi to suspend you when your pass had gone awry and smacked him straight in the balls.
“Oh please, you recovered just fine. And we still won the championship that year against the nurses.”
The smile Yoongi forces out of him is no match for the way his heart is breaking underneath. But he looks at you, eyes sparkling and so excited about the prospect of having a baby, and immediately sets his own feelings aside. He could do this. He was your best friend, and as your best friend, your happiness was his number one priority.
“Okay, I’ll help.”
“Thank you thank you thank you!” you crush him in a too-tight hug, his arms wrapping around you stiffly, before melting into it. Normally he would have pushed anyone else off by now, but you’d always been his exception to every rule he’d ever set for himself.
“So, what do you think about Hoseok from Finance?”
Yoongi freezes at the mention of the happy-go-lucky man with the heart-shaped smile and how he could immediately charm the pants off of anyone within his vicinity.
“Absolutely not,” he grumbles, walking away.
“Oh come on, why not? He has great fashion sense, can pull off any hair color, the nurses say he can dance well… Yoongi, YOONGI!”
After a tumultuous few months, which involved a rather precarious incident in which Yoongi had nearly gotten fired when he locked Taehyung, a cardiology fellow, in the bathroom after he’d gotten a bit too handsy with you at a party, Yoongi opens his apartment door one Saturday morning to find a comically large pink envelope on the outside.
The dozens of sperm-shaped balloons that fall out of the card have him jolting in surprise, and he looks up to find his across-the-hall neighbours, a mom and her daughter, staring at him dumbfoundedly, before swiftly slamming their door shut in his face.
I’m Getting Pregnant… And You’re Invited, the garish pink letters on the invitation read, and Yoongi wants to tell the stupid card to go shove all the balloons up its ass when he realizes in horror that you’d finally decided on someone. Without him.
Standing in the hallway with the huge mess around him, Yoongi wonders how despite changing people’s lives every day, he’d always managed to fall behind when it came to his own.
. . .
The obnoxious EDM bumping in your apartment is enough to make Yoongi’s ears bleed. Tugging at his hoodie, his eyes scan the crowd of people, recognizing more than a few people from the hospital. Frowning, he tries to run each one of them through his mind, wondering if you’d gone with Hoseok from Finance after all.
“Dr. Min!” Yoongi nearly chokes on his drink when Jimin from HR comes up to him, landing him a good-natured slap on the back. “You made it!”
“What the hell are you doing here, Jimin?” Yoongi deadpans. “Shouldn’t you be reporting this shit? I thought all this was supposed to be protected under HIPAA!”
“We’re all HIPAA-compliant here, Yoongi, except you,” Jimin chortles, before smirking at him. “Don’t think I don’t know that you’re the only one in your department who hasn’t submitted their training modules yet.”
“I-, I’ve been busy! You know, actually taking care of patients and stuff.” Yoongi knows Jimin is joking, but somehow still feels the need to defend himself.
“I’m sensing some negative energy from you, Yoongi,” Jimin drawls, and Yoongi is sure he has to be drunk, waving what looks like a turkey baster in his face. “This is ___’s moment! We should all be happy for her!”
“Oh I’m sooo happy,” Yoongi grumbles, disappearing into the crowd to look for you.
“Dr. Min!” another voice calls out to him. “Wanna take a hit?”
Yoongi turns to see Jungkook, one of the medical students rotating in his unit, offering him a lit joint.
“Put that damn thing away, Jeon!” Yoongi scolds him, before backtracking. “On second thought, gimme that.”
All Jungkook can do is blink in surprise when Yoongi takes a drag of the joint, immediately feeling his irate energy subside just a tiny bit. Still, he was antsy. Where were you?
Yoongi takes another few hits, downs a few shots of soju and he’s overcome with the munchies. Reaching for the hummus and pita chips, he groans when the dip plops down, staining his pristine white hoodie.
“Here, let me help you with that,” another disembodied voice calls out to him. Yoongi looks up at the sound, and is immediately taken aback.
Yoongi’s sure he’d never seen this dude at the hospital before. He was like, freakishly pretty. Tall, with dark hair and broad shoulders, and pink lips. He blinks, trying not to panic at the attractive man swiping the stain off his shirt.
“Yoongi!” you appear out of nowhere, wrapping him in another crushing hug. “I see you’ve met Seokjin.”
“I’m the donor,” the man called Seokjin reaches a hand out for him to shake, offering a blinding smile.
Fuck. Of course this stupidly attractive man was your sperm donor. Of course you’d want to have his baby. He was literally perfect. You probably had a crush on him. Hell, Yoongi kind of had a crush on him.
“I’m gonna grab another drink,” you drunkenly lean on Yoongi for support. “You two have fun talking though!”
“___’s great,” Seokjin grins. “Super nice. Pretty hot too.”
“Why are you doing this?” Yoongi interjects bluntly. “I mean no offense, a guy like you, you could probably have anyone.”
“Ahh yeah,” Seokjin ruffles his hair, and Yoongi grits his teeth at how he still manages to look perfect doing that. “Money’s tight these days. A PhD in astrophysics at Harvard doesn’t exactly come cheap.”
Before Yoongi can make another smart comment, Seokjin is whisked away by Jimin and Hoseok from finance, the men slapping him on the back, hollering that it’s time to do the deed. He sees you disappear into your own room nervously, and can’t help himself from following you.
“Everything okay, ___?”
“NO!” you’re nearly bouncing off the walls. And there’s no kids to entertain in sight. “I’m freaking out!”
Yoongi’s next to you in seconds, taking you in his arms and letting your head lean against his shoulder. He’d discovered how much it calmed you down after one drunken night out where you’d basically recalled your childhood trauma from your parents’ divorce.
“Do you think I’m crazy, Yoongi? I want this so bad, but maybe this is the wrong way to go about it.”
“I think you want a family, ___. There’s nothing wrong with that. And I’ll be here every step of the way. Uncle Yoongi to the rescue.”
You giggle at his words, a dazed look in his eyes.
“You do act like a total dad.”
There’s a brief pause, silence falling in between you two. Your eyes peer into Yoongi’s and for a moment, he could swear you lean in, the shiny pink gloss on your lips sparkling in the dim light—-
Only to be interrupted by Jungkook bursting into the room, grabbing your hand and telling you its finally time.
One shot, Yoongi had promised himself. Only now he’s ten shots of soju deep and hiding in the fucking bathroom while the party rages on outside. The colors on the wall blend into each other, and Yoongi’s head throbs trying to figure out what he’s looking at. He smiles to himself when he sees its your meticulous pregnancy planning chart, filled with labs and calendars and lists of medications.
Lifting himself up off the floor, he stumbles, bracing himself against the toilet. He was about to hurl. In his stupor he hears something clatter, off to the side.
“Is someone in there?” the nervous voice of Kim Namjoon, one of the hospital’s talented surgeons, calls out from the other end. “I have to pee!”
Namjoon’s voice breaks Yoongi out of his daze, and he looks at the object lying on the floor.
Cum. A whole bucket’s worth of it, it looked like. The creamy white substance now lies swirling in your toilet bowl, and he feels his heart drop to his ass when he realizes it’s Seokjin’s. Oh fuck! It was Seokjin’s sample. Aka the sample you were supposed to shoot up in mere moments, to have the baby you’d been dreaming of for so long.
Yoongi tugs at his hair, wanting to scream at himself for ruining your plans, all because of his own stupidity. You’d be so mad at him. You’d probably yell at him in front of the entire hospital, hands on your hips, and your face would go all red.
He’s horrified when his dick twitches to life at the image of you cursing him out. How was it his fault that you were so hot and he was idiotically attracted to you?
A lightbulb goes off in his head, and Yoongi looks down again, caught in a face-off with Min. Jr. This was a very big problem with a very simple solution.
The pounding in his head continues as Yoongi drops his pants, getting right to work.
. . .
Thankfully, Yoongi doesn’t remember much about the night of your party. He thinks it’s a blessing, at least until you pounce on him in the hospital cafeteria a couple of weeks later.
Something about you is different, he thinks. You’d always been pretty but now you’re stunning, practically glowing from the inside out. He wonders if it has anything to do with stupidly handsome Seokjin when you tap him on the shoulder.
“It worked!” you blurt out, grinning from ear to ear. “I’m pregnant!”
Suddenly, it all comes back to Yoongi. His jealousy over Seokjin, the two of you nearly kissing in your room, the cup spilling into the toilet, the way Yoongi came with your name on his lips.
Shit.
A/N pt. 2: Thanks for reading! As always, any feedback or comments are much appreciated, but I appreciate you all anyway. Lots of love, Isi 💜
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I watched the Netflix adaptation of ATLA today and being a hardcore fan of the OG series who knows every nook and cranny of the ATLA world, here’s my unbiased and truly honest review (It contains both the negatives and positives of the series, so dear reader please enter to read at your own risk).
Firstly, let’s talk about the wonderful additions to the already magical world of ATLA.
1. The depth of the genocide
Well, I always wanted to know how the air nomads were suddenly wiped out and how it would have been for them? Why didn’t they resist? I got my answers in the first episode where we explore how the unhinged power of the comet was “actually” used to create a genocide on a massive level. Before that, I had only heard about it in the OG series. Those few scenes were so powerful that they had left me sobbing uncontrollably and Gyatso’s concern regarding Aang had me bawling.
2. Suki’s Characterization
In the OG series, we do find our Suki the fiercest warrior, but here in the live action, she’s an absolute goddess. She is perfect in every sense. She understands the responsibilities she has being a non-bender and is fearless. Her character is what I believe to be was the strongest one of all.
3. Graphics & Music
We never talk about a film by M.Night (that didn’t happen), but this one is really a visual treat for you can readily set yourself up for some mind-blowing bending scenes, plus the fight scenes are quite impressive. It seems that the VFX team had really done their homework this time. Plus, both Momo and Appa are so freaking cute. I loved the fluffy Appa. Good work over there. The revival of the OG theme is also a highlight plus the sun warriors’ chanting in the end is given a new but intriguing twist. The background music especially in scenes where Aang unravels his Avatar powers is mystical in every aspect.
4. Life in motion
I don’t know about others, but I have always been a sucker for animation as well as live-action where characters are operating even in the direst of the circumstances. Life is there and even after they know what happened a hundred years ago, they are still trying to believe and regain their past confidence. This is beautifully portrayed and I was very much impressed by the way people are continuing their day-to-day activities even in the middle of a crisis.
Overall, the series serves the purpose of an adaptation carrying its unique colors (at least better than the previous live-action disaster that didn’t happen).
Now let’s move to the bad side, and when I say it’s honestly what I felt, you need to take my word on it being a hardcore Atla fan.
1. Weak writing & lots of exposition
ATLA remains at a 9.2 IMDB rating even after years because of its writing, strong plot, and very few plot holes. This time, the writers are the real amateur ones. Despite addicting more to the already flourishing universe of ATLA, sadly, they killed the quest of the viewer to find answers. There is too much exposition. It seems that every character just wants to see the end of the war and keeps on revealing things after things. Plus, some of the OG moments that were the soul of the series are not even included. The way Aang finds Momo and then decides to keep it with him as a last remnant of their bygone air nomad civilization is nowhere to be found. In fact, the replacement of Roku with Kyoshi is the biggest disappointment. I love Kyoshi like no one else but that was unnecessary as per the cycle.
2. Bland acting
Even the worst writing shots can be digested only if the acting appears real good. Sadly, this is another issue that I found with the NETFLIXED version. No doubt the characters must have done a lot of hard work for this, yet, they lack the expressive power. Gordon as Aang is super cute but the goofiness is not even there. Katara seems a nerd who doesn’t like to talk much even when it’s necessary and Sokka’s jokes are forced. Meanwhile, Dallas seems to save the day at one point, but again his over-the-top angry young man attitude ruins it for me. Maybe the actors will learn from the criticism in the upcoming season (if Netflix plans to go with it).
3. Major changes
Yes, it’s okay to change the narrative while you are working on an adaptation, but targeting the loyal viewers who are OG fans of ATLA means that you have to be very careful when you are trying to implement your changes in scenes that are the real soul of the OG. You can’t change the Omashu myth as if it’s nothing when we actually see even the cute animated version of the folklore. You cannot portray Roku more as a perpetrator of the genocide and Bumi as the evil king when in truth he’s the mad king who’s known for his genius ways of teaching. I hated that. Plus, reducing Zhao’s authority and taking Uncle Iroh’s sarcastic attitude is just meh. Mai again doesn’t even seem perfect as a cast. Jet is good as far as the aesthetics are concerned but Jet being in Omashu doesn’t even sit right with me. The amalgamation of multiple storylines creates so much confusion and this persists till the end.
4. Bending at convenience
We all know how Katara’s bending progressed throughout the first season and it’s little effort each day. However, in series, one day she’s unable to bend even a droplet of water and the next day she is capable of producing ice crystals. This was unacceptable for me because I was anticipating her learning strategies. Besides, Aang doesn’t learn much water bending throughout this season and in the end, it’s him being the savior in Avatar state. Thoughtless bending sucks despite the great VFX and that’s one thing at which you can’t convince me otherwise.
5. Forced friendships
We all know how it took some time for Sokka to embrace Aang as a chum. However, here Sokka keeps on calling him “the kid” and remains mostly alienated from Aang. Talking to Katara, then she also seems more interested in helping Avatar fulfill his goal than being with a friend. I hated the scene where Aang comes into the Avatar state and instead of hugging him just like in the OG series, Katara runs along Sokka and keeps on calling his name. How is that going to build any organic friendship? I think the first mistake began right from the very moment when Aang was taken back to Wolf Cove on a boat in his unconscious state. Upon opening his eyes, the first person he finds near him is neither Katara nor Sokka but a tribesman who’s playing guessing games. Writers were really high when they wrote that.
6. Lack of the four nations’ biodiversity
Maybe in live action, it’s difficult to create all the marvels of the four nations when we talk about their natural biodiversity. In the OG series, it is indicated by Aang that even after 112 years, he has still not forgotten the animals that define different regions in the four kingdoms and that’s exactly why he wants to finish those “important tasks” alongside saving the world. His important tasks included keeping a check on the natural biodiversity of the lands and exploring whether the Hundred Years’ War had not damaged the majestic animals. Actually, his first dialogue right after regaining consciousness is to go for an otter penguin’s ride with Katara. When I thought about that I felt that somewhere in Aang’s mind he was always connected to nature and that’s why he wanted to regain that connection by being an avatar. Sadly we never see much of the biodiversity but I hoped that maybe they will.
Also, how come Aang had that silent whistle for one hundred years when in the series he only discovers that accidentally? I missed the OG Yip Yip for our Appa. There are lots and lots of problems with the Netflix version, and no I am not being a nitpicker. I appreciate how the current creators credited the original ones, but now I know why Bryan and Michael bade farewell to this project. On a scale of 10, it’s a 4 for me or 4.5 if I am being too generous.
If I am asked to review the live action in a single line, I would only say this:
“The Netflixed ATLA makes you go back to the OG series and you end up watching the animation to give your mind a much-needed respite from a carefully crafted artistic disaster aimed at the sensationalized generation.”
#atla#avatar the last airbender#atla live action#atla netflix#avatar aang#atla katara#avatar zuko#avatar roku#avatar the legend of aang#iroh & zuko#zutara atla#kataang#avatar canon#avatar review
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