✿ childhood friend!jeon jungkook x fem!reader
genre: fluffy childhood friends-to-lovers, neighbors au, highschool au, tutoring au, soft romance, springtime vibes
warnings: none really! just blushing, yearning, math suffering, and jungkook being painfully gentle
word count: 6.8k (ongoing)
spring arrives softly your junior year. suddenly the flowers are blooming, the weather is warm again, and your quiet childhood friend next door—jeon jungkook—is tutoring you in calculus every saturday afternoon. you hadn’t realized how much you’d drifted apart until now. unfortunately for your grades and your heart, he’s far sweeter than you remembered.
authors note: since you guys wanted a mature jungkook fic!! this is so cute and i really like writing about him this way!!
ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ ₓ˚.୭˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ₓ
It was the sweet season of spring, a season of youth, a season of new beginnings.
At least, that’s what Danielle told you as the two of you walked toward class with ice cream cones in hand, backpacks slipping off your shoulders in the warm afternoon sun.
“Seriously, spring is the best,” she sighed happily, tilting her face toward the sky. “Everything smells good again. Flowers, grass, sunscreen. And the weather is finally normal instead of freezing in the morning and disgusting by lunch.”
You laughed quietly. “We can tell.”
Danielle turned to you with a dramatic gasp before hooking an arm around your shoulders and shaking you lightly. “Hey. I’m just appreciating life.”
The hallways ahead buzzed with noise from students coming back from lunch, but outside still felt slow and golden. The breeze carried tiny pink petals across the pavement from the trees lining the front courtyard. Someone nearby was playing music from their phone. A group of freshmen sat on the grass taking pictures of each other like they were in a perfume ad.
Spring really did make everyone softer.
Danielle licked melting strawberry ice cream from her thumb before nudging you with her elbow. “You’ve been weirdly quiet today.”
“That’s because school is a prison.”
“You say that every day too.”
You smiled despite yourself, adjusting your grip on your cone before nearly bumping into someone turning the corner.
“Oh—sorry,” you mumbled automatically.
But the person stopped too.
Jeon Jungkook looked down at you for a second, dark hair slightly messy from the wind outside. His backpack hung over one shoulder, sleeves of his navy sweater pushed to his elbows despite the breeze. There was a pen tucked behind his ear for some reason.
You recognized him instantly, obviously.
Top student. Student council. Quiet. The kind of person teachers adored without even trying. He wasn’t intimidating exactly—just composed in a way most people your age weren’t.
His eyes flickered briefly to the ice cream in your hand before he stepped aside politely.
His voice was calmer than you expected. Warm.
You stared for half a second too long.
Danielle recovered first. “Hi, Jungkook.”
He nodded once at her. “Hi.”
Then his eyes landed on you again, softer this time, like he recognized you from somewhere even if he couldn’t place it immediately.
Which was ridiculous because you literally lived next door to him.
You’d spent years only seeing fragments of him accidentally. Coming home late with headphones on. Taking groceries inside for his mom. Sitting on his porch some evenings with papers spread across the table beside him while the sunset turned everything orange.
Still, your face suddenly felt warm under his attention.
Danielle elbowed you hard enough to make you stumble a little. “She says sorry by the way. Her brain stopped working.”
To your horror, Jungkook laughed quietly.
“It’s fine,” he said again, adjusting the books in his arms. “See you around.”
Then he walked past you toward the stairwell, one hand loosely gripping the strap of his backpack.
You watched him go for exactly two seconds before Danielle grabbed your arm dramatically.
You immediately turned away so she wouldn’t see your face better.
Outside, spring sunlight poured through the open hallway windows, warm against your skin while Danielle continued laughing beside you the entire way to class.
By fourth period, the soft warmth of spring had disappeared completely beneath fluorescent classroom lights and the smell of dry erase markers.
You sat slumped in your chair near the windows, pencil tapping anxiously against your desk while your math teacher organized a stack of test papers at the front of the room.
The sight alone made your stomach hurt a little.
Around you, people whispered nervously.
“Do you think she curved it?”
“I literally guessed half the test.”
Danielle sat one row over, already looking dramatic enough to qualify for a medical emergency. She caught your eye and mouthed, I failed.
The teacher finally sighed. “Some of you did very well.”
“Some of you need to reevaluate your study habits.”
A collective groan filled the room.
You sank lower in your seat.
One by one, papers landed onto desks with soft smacks. A few relieved sighs. Some horrified faces. Somebody in the back whispered “oh my God” like they’d witnessed a crime scene.
Then your paper appeared in front of you.
A giant red 68 circled at the top.
Your eyes closed instantly.
You flipped through the pages hoping maybe she’d accidentally switched your score with someone else’s, but every page was covered in corrections and tiny red notes pointing out mistakes you genuinely didn’t even remember making.
Danielle leaned sideways in her seat. “What’d you get?”
You silently turned the paper around.
Her face twisted in sympathy. “Oh.”
“No, because mine’s worse.”
Before she could answer, something written at the bottom of your paper caught your attention.
See me after class please.
Danielle immediately spotted it too. “YOU GOT THE NOTE?”
“Stop saying it like I’ve been selected for execution.”
The rest of class crawled by painfully slowly. You barely heard anything about homework or review packets because the sentence at the bottom of your paper kept burning into your brain.
By the time the bell rang, students rushed out instantly while you packed your bag with the energy of someone approaching their doom.
Danielle gave you a dramatic salute on her way out. “Thoughts and prayers.”
“You’re a horrible friend.”
“I know. Text me if you survive.”
Then she disappeared into the hallway.
Unfortunately, your teacher was still standing by her desk waiting for you.
You walked up slowly, clutching your test paper against your chest.
She looked at you for a moment before softening slightly. “You’re capable of doing better than this.”
You nodded awkwardly. “I know.”
“I think you understand concepts when they’re explained to you, but you struggle applying them on your own.” She tapped the edge of your paper gently. “Have you considered getting a tutor?”
You nearly laughed from embarrassment.
“Yes. Even just once or twice a week could help.”
The idea alone sounded humiliating.
She hummed thoughtfully before saying, “Actually, Jungkook from class 2 tutors students sometimes.”
Your head snapped up immediately.
“The top student, yes.” She nodded casually while organizing papers. “He’s very patient. Several students improved significantly after working with him.”
For some reason, you immediately remembered the quiet laugh he gave you earlier in the hallway.
Which honestly only made this worse.
Your teacher smiled slightly. “Think about it, okay?”
You left the classroom feeling completely doomed.
Because somehow the universe had decided that failing math wasn’t embarrassing enough on its own.
Now you had to go ask your ridiculously smart neighbor for help too.
The final bell had already rung by the time the three of you started walking home together, the sidewalks crowded with students shaking off the exhaustion of the school day.
Spring sunlight spilled across the pavement in soft gold patches. Somewhere nearby, someone was playing music too loudly from their phone, and the air smelled faintly like flowers and melted asphalt.
You walked in the middle of Danielle and Yunjin with your math test folded miserably inside your backpack like it had personally ruined your life.
Danielle, unfortunately, refused to let the topic die.
“So,” she started casually, “tell Yunjin why you’ve been acting like a widow all afternoon.”
You looked offended. “I do not look like a widow.”
“You sighed at lunch six times.”
Yunjin immediately turned toward you. “Wait, you actually failed?”
“By two percent,” you muttered.
“Thank you, Yunjin. Very supportive.”
Danielle snorted. “Tell her the rest.”
You groaned quietly, dragging your sleeves over your hands. “My teacher wants me to get tutoring.”
Yunjin blinked. “Okay? That’s normal.”
“She recommended someone.”
Then realization spread across Danielle’s face all over again like she was hearing it for the first time.
“Oh my God,” she whispered dramatically.
Yunjin narrowed her eyes. “Who.”
You stared straight ahead. “…Jungkook.”
Yunjin physically stopped walking.
You nodded once, already embarrassed.
“Jeon Jungkook?” she repeated. “Like your neighbor Jungkook?”
Danielle started laughing immediately while Yunjin grabbed your arm.
“This is actually insane.”
“It’s not insane,” you mumbled. “It’s academic intervention.”
“No, because this is literally one of those stories where the girl’s failing math and the quiet smart boy helps her after school.”
You buried your face in your hands. “Please stop talking.”
“She’s embarrassed,” Danielle announced happily.
You made a wounded noise.
Yunjin looked delighted. “Wait, are you actually gonna ask him?”
“You’re gonna be so awkward.”
“I am perfectly capable of acting normal.”
Both of them looked at you.
Then they burst out laughing.
“Okay wow,” you muttered. “Fake friends.”
Danielle hooked her arm through yours affectionately. “You’re cute when nervous though.”
“You get all quiet and stare at the floor,” Yunjin added. “Like a scared puppy.”
You frowned down at the sidewalk, which unfortunately only proved their point further.
The thing was, Jungkook had always existed slightly outside everyone else.
Not because he thought he was better than people. Honestly, it was kind of the opposite.
While everyone else rushed around stressed and loud and messy, Jungkook always seemed calm. Teachers trusted him immediately. Underclassmen asked him questions without fear. Even when classmates bothered him for answers before tests, he never looked irritated.
And somehow that made him scarier to approach.
Because what if he looked at your test score and realized you were genuinely hopeless?
“What are you even scared of?” Danielle asked.
“What if he thinks I’m stupid?”
Yunjin gasped dramatically. “You are stupid.”
You smacked her arm instantly while Danielle nearly folded over laughing.
“I hate both of you so bad.”
“No seriously,” Yunjin said, recovering. “Jungkook’s nice. Quiet, but nice.”
And that was the problem.
If he’d been arrogant or mean or cold, maybe this wouldn’t feel so terrifying.
But every interaction you’d ever had with him had been gentle.
Holding the gate open for you when your hands were full. Offering a polite smile when you passed each other outside early in the morning. Helping some freshman pick up dropped papers without acting annoyed about it.
Your teacher was right about that too.
Before you could spiral further, Danielle suddenly grabbed your sleeve.
Your stomach dropped immediately.
He sat at the small table on his front porch with an open textbook beside him, sleeves rolled neatly to his forearms while he highlighted something across the page. Glasses resting low on his nose.
The warm evening light made everything around him look softer somehow.
You stopped walking without meaning to.
Yunjin noticed instantly.
“Oh my God,” she whispered excitedly. “Go.”
“He’s literally right there.”
Danielle looked way too entertained watching you panic. “You’re actually freaking out.”
“You’re holding my arm like you’re about to be put down.”
Across the yard, Jungkook glanced up at the noise.
His eyes found the three of you first.
For a second, he looked mildly surprised.
But then his expression relaxed immediately, soft and familiar in a way that made your chest feel weird.
And before you could look away—
You froze the second Jungkook looked up.
Yunjin noticed immediately.
“Oh my God,” she whispered. “Look at her face.”
“Stop,” you whispered back.
Danielle nudged your shoulder. “Go ask him.”
Across the yard, Jungkook had paused writing now, pen resting loosely between his fingers while he looked at the three of you quietly.
Which somehow made you even more nervous.
Yunjin leaned closer. “He literally looks like he’d help old ladies cross the street.”
You made a miserable noise because she was right.
Before you could keep arguing, your feet started moving on their own.
Every step toward his porch made your stomach twist tighter.
By the time you reached him, you were suddenly aware of everything at once—the wind pushing hair into your face, the way your backpack kept slipping off your shoulder, the fact that Jungkook was looking directly at you now.
He set his pen down carefully.
Jungkook didn’t rush you through it. He just waited patiently, eyes steady behind his glasses while you tried not to combust on his front lawn.
You stared at the sleeves covering your hands.
“My teacher talked to me today,” you blurted.
Jungkook nodded once for you to continue.
“She told me I should probably get tutoring.” Your voice got quieter. “And she mentioned you because apparently you help people sometimes.”
The evening breeze shifted through the trees between your houses.
Jungkook looked at you for a moment before asking gently, “What class?”
His expression softened slightly in understanding.
Not because of what he said.
Because of how he said it.
Like he wasn’t judging you at all.
“I understood it at first,” you admitted quietly. “But now everyone answers things so fast and I don’t even know what’s happening anymore.”
Jungkook listened carefully, elbows resting loosely against his knees.
“That usually happens around this point in the semester,” he said. “Everything starts building on itself really fast.”
No teacher had explained it like that before.
Most people just acted like you weren’t trying hard enough.
“You probably just need someone to slow it down a little.”
The reassurance in his voice made something in your chest loosen embarrassingly fast.
Behind you, Danielle and Yunjin had gone completely silent for once.
Jungkook glanced down at the notebook beside him briefly before looking back up at you.
“I can help you if you want.”
You tightened your grip on your backpack strap. “Really?”
Like it wasn’t a big deal at all.
Your heart did something deeply annoying.
A tiny pause passed before Jungkook spoke again.
“We live next to each other anyway,” he said quietly. “You can just come over after lunch on Saturday.”
Your brain stalled for a second.
“Okay,” you answered immediately.
Then, after realizing how fast that sounded:
“I mean— if that’s okay.”
You nodded once, trying very hard to act normal while your pulse absolutely refused to cooperate.
Jungkook picked his pen back up slowly, expression still calm.
“Bring whatever you’re struggling with,” he said. “We’ll figure it out.”
You nodded once, trying very hard to act normal while your pulse absolutely refused to cooperate.
Jungkook picked his pen back up slowly, expression still calm.
“Bring whatever you’re struggling with,” he said. “We’ll figure it out.”
The sentence followed you all the way across the yard.
The second you turned around, Danielle grabbed both your shoulders violently.
You stared at her blankly, still mentally somewhere else.
Yunjin looked genuinely delighted. “YOU’RE GOING TO HIS HOUSE.”
“Please lower your voice,” you whispered urgently, glancing back toward Jungkook on instinct.
He’d already gone back to studying, head slightly lowered as he wrote across the page again like your entire conversation hadn’t permanently altered your brain chemistry.
Which honestly made him worse somehow.
“He was so nice,” Danielle said.
Yunjin clutched her chest dramatically. “‘We’ll figure it out,’” she mocked softly. “‘You can just come over.’”
“Stop repeating things he said.”
You groaned loudly and buried your face in your sleeves while they laughed at you the entire walk to your front door.
The second you got inside your house, you kicked your shoes off carelessly and walked straight to your room without even greeting anyone properly.
Your backpack hit the floor with a dull thud.
And then you collapsed face-first onto your bed.
For a few seconds, you just laid there staring into your comforter while your heartbeat slowly calmed down.
Then your brain caught up.
You rolled onto your back immediately, horrified.
Because what were you actually supposed to do there?
Sit politely while he watched you fail math in real time?
What if you answered something wrong and he realized you were genuinely stupid?
What if things got awkward and silent?
What if you started acting weird?
You pressed both hands over your face dramatically.
Your phone buzzed beside you.
You immediately typed back:
yunjin
if u come back from tutoring married i wont be surprised
You threw your phone across the bed in genuine distress.
Outside your window, the sky had started turning soft shades of pink and orange as the sun dipped lower between the houses on your street.
And somewhere next door, separated only by a fence and a driveway, Jungkook was probably still sitting outside studying peacefully while you spiraled like a kicked puppy over a tutoring session.
Saturday arrived wrapped in soft spring sunlight.
Warm light filtered through your curtains in lazy gold streaks while the breeze drifting through your open window carried the smell of flowers and freshly cut grass from somewhere outside.
For a few peaceful seconds, you just laid there listening to birds outside and the faint sound of sprinklers further down the street.
Then your eyes landed on the clock.
Your stomach flipped immediately.
Outside, spring sunlight painted everything warm and bright while you hurried through getting ready, still half-panicking the entire time.
You kept reminding yourself this was just tutoring.
Just your quiet genius neighbor calmly explaining calculus while you tried not to embarrass yourself.
After showering, you stood in front of your mirror trying not to overthink every tiny detail.
Your hair took forever before finally settling into a soft half-up half-down style, loose strands framing your face no matter how many times you fixed them.
Then came the outfit crisis.
Eventually, you settled on a soft pink sleeveless blouse with tiny ruffles along the neckline and dark blue jorts that made the whole thing feel casual enough to pretend you hadn’t thought about it too hard.
You stared at yourself suspiciously in the mirror.
Why did you suddenly look like the female lead in a movie who buys flowers every Sunday and journals near windows.
“No,” you whispered to yourself. “This is educational.”
Downstairs smelled like vanilla and sugar by the time you came down carrying your calculus notebook.
Your mom was carefully closing a cake box at the kitchen counter while warm spring air drifted through the open windows.
“I made too much again,” she said immediately. “Take some next door.”
“She texted me yesterday anyway,” your mom added casually. “It’s been forever since we talked properly.”
You accepted the cake with reluctant dignity.
So now you were arriving at Jungkook’s house carrying homemade dessert like someone in a soft suburban coming-of-age movie.
Outside, the neighborhood looked painfully pretty beneath the spring sun.
Tiny flowers bloomed beside sidewalks. Trees swayed softly in the breeze. Somewhere nearby, wind chimes clinked gently.
You walked next door trying not to panic, notebook tucked under one arm while balancing the cake box carefully.
By the time you reached Jungkook’s front door, your heartbeat felt embarrassingly loud.
And immediately considered fleeing.
But the door opened too quickly.
Jungkook’s mom smiled warmly the second she saw you.
“You’ve gotten so pretty,” she said immediately, pulling you into a quick hug before you could even react.
Your face warmed instantly.
“Hi,” you laughed softly.
“What are you doing standing outside? Come in.”
You handed her the cake box carefully. “My mom made too much again.”
She sighed dramatically. “That woman and her baking.”
The house smelled faintly like coffee and laundry detergent, sunlight pouring warmly across the hardwood floors through the open windows.
Spring air drifted softly through the entire house.
Before you could even step fully inside, something large came sprinting around the corner.
A Doberman hurried toward you excitedly, nails clicking against the floor.
“Bam,” Jungkook’s mom sighed fondly. “Gentle.”
You were already crouching down instantly, your entire face softening.
“Hi baby,” you whispered automatically, reaching for him.
Bam leaned against you happily while you scratched behind his ears with complete emotional devastation.
“He knows exactly how handsome he is,” she laughed.
“I would literally die for him.”
His tail thumped loudly against the floor while you practically melted beside him.
You only looked up when you heard footsteps approaching from deeper in the house.
And then Jungkook appeared.
His dark hair looked slightly soft from sleep or running his hands through it too much, falling naturally over his forehead.
Without his glasses, he somehow looked even gentler.
He stopped for a second after seeing you sitting on the floor with Bam practically sprawled across your lap.
Then his expression softened almost immediately.
“…I leave him alone for five minutes,” he said quietly.
Your heart actually skipped.
Because his voice still carried that same calm steadiness—but softer at home somehow.
Bam ignored him completely in favor of pressing closer into your arms.
Jungkook watched the betrayal in silence for a second before looking back at you.
“I think he likes you more than me already.”
You looked horrified. “No he doesn’t.”
His mom laughed from the kitchen. “She’s been here thirty seconds and he’s obsessed.”
“Go upstairs,” Jungkook’s mom said warmly from the kitchen. “I’ll bring you guys cake later.”
You immediately stood up too fast because Bam had somehow attached himself to you emotionally within five minutes.
“Oh no, baby,” you whispered apologetically as you untangled yourself from him.
Jungkook stood nearby watching quietly while Bam followed you anyway.
“…I think he likes you,” he said softly.
You looked genuinely touched. “Really?”
Bam pressed against your leg again like he was proving the point himself.
Your heart melted instantly.
“Okay, I’m stealing him.”
For a second, Jungkook looked faintly amused.
Then he lowered his gaze slightly, almost shy about it.
You followed him upstairs while trying very hard not to act nervous.
The whole house felt peaceful in a quiet spring-afternoon way. Open windows let warm air drift through the hallway softly, curtains moving lazily in the breeze while sunlight spilled across the walls in pale gold patches.
Jungkook’s room looked exactly like him.
Books stacked carefully beside his desk. Pens lined up properly. A cream-colored hoodie folded over the back of his chair.
The windows were cracked open slightly, carrying in the smell of fresh air and flowers from outside.
Meanwhile your room looked like a small emotional incident most of the time.
“You can sit there,” Jungkook said quietly, pulling the chair beside his desk out for you.
You sat carefully while he settled beside you, close enough that your elbows almost brushed whenever either of you moved.
Your heart immediately started acting ridiculous again.
Jungkook glanced toward your notebook.
“So… what are you struggling with?”
You opened the notebook dramatically.
Then the smallest smile touched the corner of his mouth before disappearing again.
“I don’t think that’s true.”
“It is,” you sighed. “Math actually wants me dead.”
“I don’t think math has personal feelings.”
That earned another tiny breath of laughter from him.
Because Jungkook didn’t laugh loudly.
It was always quiet and unexpected, like it slipped out before he could stop it.
He reached over gently and turned your notebook toward himself.
“Okay,” he said patiently. “Show me where you start getting confused.”
His shoulders shook slightly.
You narrowed your eyes. “You’re laughing at me.”
“I’m not,” he said quickly, though his voice still sounded faintly amused.
Unfortunately, he looked too sincere for you to keep accusing him properly.
Jungkook leaned slightly closer to the notebook and pointed at one of the equations.
“This part only looks complicated because everything’s written together,” he explained softly. “If you separate it step by step, it’s easier.”
You tried listening carefully.
But his voice was calm and low and the spring breeze kept moving through the room and your brain felt useless.
After a minute, Jungkook glanced over.
“…Did you stop listening?”
You frowned at the equation. “The numbers started looking scary again.”
Another tiny laugh escaped him before he picked up your pencil carefully.
“Okay.” His voice softened automatically while he rewrote the problem slower underneath. “Try looking at it like this instead.”
You watched his handwriting move across the page.
“You write like a history teacher,” you blurted.
Jungkook looked at you in confusion.
“I don’t know.” You slumped dramatically against the desk. “Your handwriting just looks trustworthy.”
For the first time, Jungkook actually looked caught off guard.
A faint flush crept across the tops of his ears while he looked back down at the notebook.
Your own face warmed instantly too.
The room suddenly felt smaller somehow.
Jungkook cleared his throat quietly before tapping the page with the pencil.
“Try this one now,” he said softly.
You looked down at the equation suspiciously.
“…If I get this wrong, I’m dropping out.”
“You’re not going to get it wrong.”
The certainty in his voice made you look up automatically.
Jungkook met your eyes for a second before glancing away again, almost shy.
“I’ll help if you get stuck.”
By the time you finished the third practice problem correctly, you felt emotionally exhausted.
Jungkook, unfortunately, still looked perfectly calm.
You dropped your pencil dramatically onto the desk. “I’m retiring from academics.”
A tiny smile appeared on his face again.
“You said that thirty minutes ago.”
“And I meant it then too.”
“You’re still doing the problems.”
That quiet breath of laughter escaped him again before a knock sounded softly against his door.
“Cake,” his mom announced from outside.
You perked up immediately.
Jungkook stood up first and opened the door for her, stepping aside while she carried in plates and the strawberry cake your mom had sent over earlier.
The entire room immediately smelled sweet.
“Oh wow,” you said softly.
His mom smiled. “Your mother still bakes like she’s feeding an entire neighborhood.”
Jungkook took the plates from her carefully while you moved your notebooks out of the way to make room.
For a few minutes, the atmosphere shifted completely.
The tutoring papers got pushed aside. Bam wandered into the room again and immediately settled beside your chair like he belonged there.
Spring sunlight poured warmly through the open windows while the three of you sat together eating cake and talking quietly.
Mostly, his mom did the talking.
She asked about school. Your parents. Dance. Danielle somehow came up within five minutes because apparently she talked loudly enough for adults to remember her.
At one point, his mom laughed softly. “You used to come over all the time when you were little.”
“Mhm. You and Jungkook used to draw on the driveway together.”
Your eyes widened immediately as you turned toward him.
“You never told me that.”
Jungkook looked mildly caught off guard by the sudden attention.
“I didn’t think you remembered.”
“I don’t,” you admitted. “Wait, really?”
His mom smiled fondly. “You cried once because he accidentally stepped on one of your chalk drawings.”
Your jaw dropped in horror.
Jungkook looked down instantly, clearly trying not to smile.
“You were very upset,” his mom continued.
“In my defense, art is fragile.”
That finally made Jungkook laugh properly.
But real enough that your stomach flipped stupidly.
“I remember that part,” he admitted softly.
“You wouldn’t talk to me for a whole day after.”
You stared at him in betrayal while his mom laughed.
Your face warmed instantly.
Jungkook looked away first, taking another bite of cake like he suddenly found it very important.
And for some reason, sitting there felt… easy.
You’d spent years thinking of Jungkook as this distant, untouchable person. The quiet top student everyone admired from afar.
But here, sitting in his room with sunlight warming the floor and Bam asleep against your leg while his mom talked casually nearby—
Patient in this quiet, careful way that made people relax around him without realizing it.
You found yourself noticing tiny things now.
How he always listened fully before responding. How he moved slightly closer whenever you were trying to explain something. How he never interrupted people.
Even the way he handed you your fork earlier—gentle, absentmindedly considerate.
Not in the distant “he’s pretty and smart” way everyone at school did.
You wanted to know what music he listened to while studying. Whether he stayed up late often. What made him laugh hard enough to stop hiding it.
You wanted to know him properly.
The realization settled softly somewhere in your chest while spring air drifted through the room and Jungkook quietly pushed the last strawberry from his cake slice onto your plate because you’d mentioned earlier that they were your favorite.
By the time you finally stood to leave, the sun had started dipping lower outside the windows, turning the entire neighborhood soft gold.
Spring evenings always felt strangely gentle.
The air smelled like flowers and warm pavement, tree branches swaying quietly in the breeze while distant laughter echoed from somewhere down the street.
You held your notebook against your chest while Jungkook walked you downstairs.
Bam followed directly beside you the entire way like a loyal bodyguard.
“I’m taking him with me,” you informed seriously.
Jungkook glanced down at the dog.
A tiny smile touched his face again.
At the front door, his mom hugged you goodbye like you’d known each other forever.
“Come over anytime,” she said warmly. “Next time without homework.”
You laughed softly. “Okay.”
Then your eyes flickered toward Jungkook automatically.
Because he was already looking at you.
Just quietly attentive the way he always was.
Like he noticed everything.
Your heartbeat instantly sped up again.
Jungkook opened the door for you, warm spring air drifting inside immediately.
“Text me if you get stuck on anything later,” he said softly.
“And don’t panic if you don’t understand something right away.”
The sincerity in his voice hit you embarrassingly hard.
You tightened your grip on your notebook a little.
“…Okay,” you repeated, smaller this time.
For one second, neither of you moved.
Then Bam nudged your leg impatiently.
You laughed under your breath and bent down quickly to scratch behind his ears one last time.
“Don’t look at me like that,” you whispered. “I’m emotional enough already.”
Another soft laugh escaped Jungkook before he looked down briefly, almost shy afterward like he didn’t mean to.
And for some reason, that affected you way more than it should have.
You waved awkwardly before finally stepping outside.
The walk back to your house was less than thirty seconds.
Unfortunately, it gave you entirely too much time to think.
Your heart wouldn’t calm down.
You’d literally just studied calculus.
There had been worksheets.
And yet your chest still felt warm and fluttery in this awful, unfamiliar way.
Because Jungkook wasn’t what you expected at all.
At school he seemed distant. Quiet in a way that made people nervous to approach him.
Careful with people’s feelings in this natural, effortless way that didn’t feel performative.
You thought about the way he patiently rewrote equations when you got confused. The tiny laughs he tried hiding behind his hand. The way he listened so attentively every time you spoke, even when you were rambling nonsense.
you thought about how comfortable it felt sitting beside him.
Like he made space for you naturally.
By the time you stepped through your front door, your heart was still racing embarrassingly fast.
Your mom looked up from the couch immediately.
You stared at her for a second.
“…I think I’m in trouble.”
Your mom blinked. “What?”
You dropped face-first onto the couch cushions with a muffled groan.
Because somehow, somewhere between calculus problems and strawberry cake—
you’d started wanting to see Jungkook again.
GUYS LMK IF I SHOULD TAG YOU IN PART TWOO IF ANY OF YOU GUYS ARE INTERESTED??
