#and he has that puppy look so...boy looks so pitiful. hope he suffers more /j

[cathymee]

man why is joshua garcia so good at acting. unfair

[jungnoir]

Honestly the milkshake prompt with jungkook sounds perfect! Thank you 😄

milkshake man;

jeon jungkook | 14. “One milkshake down.” ⇢ jungkook’s worst nightmare comes true: his child is lactose intolerant. dad!au. | 1.8k words. | fluff, humor.

a/n: you can consider this an epilogue to isn’t she lovely, but it does not need to be read to understand this!

Honestly, not that you did, but if you ever second guessed that your child with Jungkook was truly his, there was one thing that always diminished that doubt immediately: it was her absolute tendency to do everything perfectly and before anyone else.

You remembered her forming sentences at nearly nine months, walking before any of your friends’ babies did, and picking up everything her father taught her without difficulty. You had honestly wondered if Jungkook had some kind of genius baby making blood that would change the evolutionary game. Whatever it was, she was a lot like her father in every way and he was damn proud of it. There was only a tiny problem that neither of you had seen coming, and unfortunately, it had come eight chocolate milkshakes later.

It all started when Jungkook, out of all the new things he wanted to teach his advanced little girl, pulled out the milk carton.

“Jungkook…” Your voice trails off in an exasperated sigh, watching your husband grin at your six year old little girl who was currently sitting criss-cross applesauce on the kitchen floor. Your husband, nearly three times her size, sits opposite her with his legs splayed out on either side of her knees. In between them is a large carton of milk, and beside it is an equally large carton of chocolate ice cream. Your daughter licks her lips as Jungkook places a single, hot pink cup in the midst of it all.

Twirling the ice cream scooper in hand, Jungkook smirks at you from the floor, “I know what you’re going to say-” “I don’t care how smart our baby is, I’m not ready for her to start experimenting in the kitchen. I haven’t even introduced her to dying Easter eggs yet!” You try not to look at the two in worry; the mixture of the two loves of your life handling both a gallon of sticky liquid and sticky cream makes you mourn the bath water you’ll be preparing for the smallest of the two, probably very soon.

A pout forms on Jungkook’s face, followed by fluttering of eyelashes from not one Jeon, but two. Your daughter, Somin, has the exact some starry, puppy-dog eyes that her father possesses… as if to make matters worse.

The bigger Jeon frowns openly, “It’s just one milkshake.”

“Yes,” you stress the word just as much as he stressed “one”, “but you know what happens when she gets introduced to something new. She immediately tries to replicate it, and guess who has to clean up after her when she does?”

Somin reaches for the milk, chubby fingers attempting to take the carton from his hands. Jungkook tugs it away before she can even get close enough, “I will! I’m only showing her this once all the wonderful things milk can make. I promise we won’t make a mess. Nothing will go wrong.” Jungkook’s promise feels completely dependent on the complex, growing mind of your six year old and her level of determination to complete this new task after tasting the end result. You really did not like leaving things up to a child whose loyalty to you shifted everyday before bed time.

You watch him focus his attention on the cup instead as he begins to scoop some ice cream from its carton, dropping three full scoops into the cup before pouring the milk over it. He takes a spare spoon and starts stirring, the little girl before him watching with all eyes and ears focused on him. You realize there’s not much you can do now; she knows the three things she needs to make those milkshakes, and now she’s going to think about it on repeat until she gets the chance to make it again. You can already see the mess, but you leave the kitchen before you fall into another fit.

If you were lucky, this would only stop at one milkshake.

Jungkook comes home the next day to a quiet house. That is the first sign something is not quite right, but he tries to ignore the feeling in hopes that it was just his overactive imagination.

It wasn’t, unfortunately, when he hears a cry that he is all too familiar with.

Jungkook moves with a speed he was unaware he possessed in the direction of Somin’s bedroom, just barely knocking into the door frame to get inside. He can see you sitting on the edge of Somin’s bed while the child in question is curled up under her covers, whining softly, painfully. Jungkook’s heart tugs as he walks over, whispering to you, “What happened? Is she sick?”

You look up at him with a pitiful look, right before pushing yourself up from the bed and walking over to him. You can see the small wrinkles in his brow that had begun to form over the years and you attempt to smooth them out with your fingertips. His tense body doesn’t relax, but he does wrap an arm around you in lieu of fidgeting with his fingers.

After you’ve finished brushing his hair from his eyes, you sigh, “Got some bad news about baby Jeon today,” you say, and Jungkook’s mind is swimming with all the possibilities, “she is… lactose intolerant.”

Jungkook blinks. Then, “…excuse me?”

You snicker, watching him trying to process the information with (only slight) amusement, “Yeah, apparently children can develop an intolerance to dairy once they’ve passed two years old, and, well… she has.”

Jungkook frowns, then pouts, then drops his head on your shoulder in defeat, “How could this happen? We did everything right…”

“Jungook, she won’t die. We’ve just got to buy soy milk from now on and cut back on all the dairy. The worst she gets is a little gas, but this means you two can’t have milk drinking competitions anymore.” “If I can’t take my kid on banana milk dates with me anymore,  what can we do?” “Normal things that other children and their fathers do?” You offer, yelping when Jungkook playfully nips at the skin of your neck in retaliation.

He pulls back and you can see the light disappointment in his eyes, but relative relief at the fact that it’s nothing too serious. A little discomfort, maybe, but she would be feeling better in a few hours.

“That’s… not the worst of it, though.” You pull away and pat his chest, the confusion arising in his expression when you begin to exit Somin’s room. He follows after you, down the hall, the stairs, and right toward the kitchen. Before he even passes the threshold, he suddenly gets a bad feeling.

“Oh no…” Jungook sees the kitchen floor lined with nearly ten milkshakes, all varying amounts and textures. All, very clearly, made by one little girl upstairs. “How did she even get her hands on everything?”

“A stool and determination,” you fold your arms with an “I told you so” look on your face, “she waited until I went to water the plants, and I think I recall a certain husband of mine saying he would clean up if any messes took place.”

Ah. He did say he would do that, didn’t he?

Slowly, Jungkook kneels to the floor and collects the first cup, inspecting for anything that a six year old might have inserted that could be potentially dangerous. A sip later, he throws it all back in three big gulps.

Your jaw drops, “J-” “One milkshake down,” his tone sounds incredibly stressed, but that familiar challenge in his eyes says that he is not to be moved. If it took five cups of ramen to make him full, eight milkshakes were nothing, “seven to go.”

“Why don’t you just throw them away…?” Your voice takes on a slightly whiny tone. One thing you hoped Somin never got from her father was his intense stubbornness and need to push his physical limits. You could see him already bragging to the boys about how he had consumed more milk and ice cream in less than an hour than any of them had consumed in a week.

“This is more than a third of a carton’s worth of milk and probably all the chocolate ice cream we had in this house. I am not letting this go to waste.” “And I’m not taking care of you when you get a stomachache too.”

He says nothing in response to you, simply grabbing the next cup and depositing the other into the sink for the dishes he would inevitably be cleaning by himself later on. Quietly, to yourself, you mutter a few choice words that you hope Jungkook can sense the irritation in and plop down onto the kitchen floor. You grab the cup nearest you and start chugging, caution thrown to the wind. You probably wouldn’t be able to stomach as much as your husband, but you weren’t letting him suffer alone.

Jungkook smiles over the rim of his fourth cup, electing to stay silent until you two finally met in the middle. He’d drank more than half of the lot but had nothing to show for it besides a guttural burp. You, on the other hand, already felt more than a little full. Your eyelashes fluttered shut as you attempt to collect yourself, the want to fall on the floor and explode becoming awfully tempting.

“You didn’t have to help me, you know.” He says teasingly but gently, pushing himself up from the floor and moving behind you. Carefully, as Jungkook always was with you and Somin, he cradles you into his arms and begins to walk you upstairs to your bedroom.

You let him lay you down on the sheets and he brushes your hair from your eyes, chuckling when you open them just to glare, “Dummy… I wasn’t gonna let you suffer alone. You were right after all, milk costs a pretty penny in this economy.”

“Is this what marriage is?” He asks, kneeling on the floor beside the bed to be eye level with you. You roll onto your side and exhale something that sounds like a laugh… or maybe a groan, “Drinking eight milkshakes that our daughter impulse-made on the kitchen floor because we can’t handle throwing it all away?”

“I guess it is.” You hum, right as he comes in for a kiss. His lips and yours are still a little sticky from the milkshakes, but you don’t mind so much when his hand comes to rub at your tummy in comfort.

Jungkook hears Somin call for him from down the hall and rises to his feet, checking over you once more before starting his trek down the hallway, “Next time Somin makes too much of something, let’s just invite the boys over to eat it all.” “Or pray that there never is a next time.”