It’s only your first day in this school as a substitute kindergarten teacher, and recess already feels like a blessing. The kids are adorable, sure—but also tiny chaos agents. All you want now is a strong coffee and ten minutes without someone yelling “Miss! He took my crayon!”

You find the teachers’ lounge and head straight for the coffee machine, ignoring the two teachers deep in conversation. You press a few buttons. Nothing. You jiggle the lever. Still nothing. Great.

“Need a hand?”

You turn, slightly startled, and meet the gaze of a tall, annoyingly good-looking guy in a tracksuit. Muscular, easy smile, tattoo peeking out from under his sleeve. Of course.

“For this beast,” he says, nodding at the machine, “insert the capsule, crank it like you mean it, then hold the button and pray.”

He helps, coffee flows, and your faith in humanity is restored.

“I’m Jungkook, by the way. P.E. teacher-slash-coffee whisperer.”

You try not to swoon. Fail.