#dad jungkook au | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

muniimyg · 3 months ago

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⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ bbydaddy!jk (16) ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹

series m.list // taglist request closed

note: please prioritize your mental health and peace if the following content is too heavy for you. this portion of the plot has a lot of angst, and arguing. overall contains sensitive topics. thank you all for waiting so well for the break-up reveal!

tw: mentions of anxiety/stress/insomnia/ and postpartum depression,, early pregnancy loss (5 weeks), and self-neglect.

🏷️ permanent taglist:

@joonsjuice @pamzn @defzcl @maryy1300 @whoa-jo @taetaecatboy @jksusawife @un06 @firesighgirl @rrosiitas @butterymin @parkinglot-nights @musicjournalsjdb @kissyfacekoo @jkslvsnella @vampcharxter @bloopkook @somehowukook @bbystarcandykoo

"so... jungkook moved back in, he bought you a new car, and this entire time you've been broken up—you've been sleeping with him?"

it feels stupid to confess everything to your therapist.

you’ve been avoiding this for 9 months now.

today it has to be settled.

it has to be over.

this feeling in the pit of your stomach that makes you want to throw up over and over again until you have nothing left inside of you. your lips tighten at the way your therapist blinks at you. you've never really been able to read her, but maybe that's what you like so much about her.

sometimes, it's nice not to know and just to take what people say as they are.

"he's not actually moved back in... he just has more closet space."

your therapist notes something down on her pad. then, she looks at you and simply comments, "i see... is that all you think it is? more closet space?"

"y-yes? n-no... no. okay, it's not like we're not back together though..." you begin to explain yourself.

"but you've been sleeping with him the entire time you guys have been broken up?"

you make a face.

your therapist tilts her head and lets out a light sigh.

"i'm not judging. you two are adults. you both have needs. you both need each other. you both love each other. i'm just clarifying that—"

"okay, yes," you yield. "i have been sleeping with my babydaddy but haven’t gotten back together with him... i mean—we kind of are? to be fair, the break-up wasn’t a real break-up... it just grew into one. i take the blame for the dumping because i was the one who pulled away. so inevitably, i can't help but feel like a villain in all of it... am i? am i the villain? zion had this whole thing about what family is like, a home with another kid from his daycare, and it... it made me feel so guilty. jungkook and i talked about it and worked on it... i know he doesn't blame me, but every time i bring myself closer to... what do i even call this? ... forgiving him? forgiving myself? i d-don't know... all i know is that... every time i want to move on and just be happy—with him. with zion... with my life—i can't find it in me. i pull away, and it hurts everyone around us. sometimes, i wonder if they know it hurts me too."

"what does that mean?" she asks, her tone soft and curious. "good job getting that off your chest. you're doing great, ___."

mumbling a 'thank you,' you sigh and shrug your shoulders. honestly, you can’t think. your mind goes blank. she then sits up, fixing her posture. leaning forward, she makes her observation.

"___, you broke up with jungkook 9 months ago because of the circumstances. sure, he was supportive and understanding, but sometimes, when everything gets too much, the only person who can fix you is yourself. ___, it was a lot. it was heavy. one thing I've noticed about you is that you think and speak as if everything has to be this big thing. you know your emotions are bigger than the problem, yet you suppress them. it's okay to feel them because when you don't, you start to lose yourself. sometimes, it sounds to me like you want to burn the room down for people to empathize with you... for people to see you. for you to see yourself even."

"i don't want to burn anything down—"

"it's an analogy," she explains. "the truth is, for you, being burned out isn’t a thing until you can’t get out of bed. burnout is as simple as not wanting coffee anymore. sometimes, it's losing yourself to stress and anxiety... and people see that. jungkook, your friends, and your parents saw it. you don’t have to prove it. ___, you can’t keep pushing yourself until you can’t run anymore. you have to slow down. you have to let yourself be tired and learn how to rest."

you nod, agreeing with her take. then, you make another confession.

"i understand that," you take a deep breath. "but it’s like… before i knew it, i was upset and unfit for our relationship. i screwed up too early. that's why i broke up with him... but now... i don’t know. the guilt and blame keep pointing in different directions. i don’t know what i'm doing, and i can't do that. i can't not know when it comes to the father of my child and the love of my life."

your therapist purses her lips and offers you a small smile.

"then, ___... is it possible that things are better now? that it's more than his clothes in your home? that the room isn’t burning anymore? is it that maybe... finally, you’re realizing that being tired and burnt out is a part of life? ___, you’ve done nothing but get everything right since your childhood... to let your feelings—good or bad—be true and big isn’t a flaw. it’s you being human."

her words hit you, but not enough to stop your insecurities. with shaky eyes, you ask her, "w-what if i do it again?"

"do what again? burnout?"

"what if i fuck up everything about my life again? my career? motherhood? jungkook and i’s relationship? it hurt so bad... to wake up next to my family and not feel anything. it was so fucking hard... i couldn’t even pretend that i was okay. a-and when i asked for some air... he wasn’t even mad at me. he packed his bags and lost his breath from crying so much. at the door, he asked me if i was sure... and even though i wasn’t; i said yes...." you explain, your voice growing quieter with each word.

suddenly, everything feels so heavy.

if there was ever a time to understand and relate to the feeling of the world being on your shoulders... this would be that moment. taking a breath, you compose yourself.

"i can’t do that again," you vow. "i can’t change my mind."

"you can’t change your mind again or you can’t hurt like that again?"

you pause.

"9 months ago, my mind kept going back and forth whether or not jungkook cared about me," you confess. "but i recently realized he does. he has. he always will... i just don’t know if i can trust him the same as before... i think i’m a horrible person for thinking that. weird, right? especially with how fucking horrible i am to him now."

"that’s not true." your therapist disagrees. "___, it was traumatic. you went through a lot—"

"—and i will never understand how he held himself together. when he was accused of plagiarism at his company, i took those accusations and sued until jungkook’s name was spotless. it was hard on both of us. he didn’t want me to go that far because they were his coworkers—his ‘friends’—but why... why was he so pathetic then? those people were out to ruin him. they quit the company and went to jyp. they proposed work that belonged to jungkook... it was a conflict of interest! when jungkook launched his work with hybe, jyp accused him of plagiarism. hybe cut ties with him and his company gave him so much shit for losing hybe. and i, his girlfriend and mother of his child, risked my career to focus on his case instead of my clients. i chose him. i did everything to fight for him. then, he told me he wanted to settle and stay at the company... i couldn’t believe it... he had his reputation on the line—his career! mine was too and all for what? because he didn’t want to embarrass his friends? because he didn’t want to cause the company more trouble? then, what about me? what about us?"

your therapist looks at you with sincere eyes. she nods, taking your words in.

"___, does he know you’re still upset with his decision?"

"yes," you sigh, recalling how betrayed you felt. "w-we don’t talk about it. how do we? it felt like i wasted 2 months of my life and we lost our—we lost."

your therapist reaches over and offers you the tissue box. you didn’t even realize you were crying... but the silence between you two and the ache from the words that you just said begins to sting your chest.

after a few moments, your therapist softly tells you, "___, i don’t think you left him because you didn’t love him... i think you left because, despite everything, you did. that hurt because it meant loving him and putting him before yourself... on top of that, you were at a state where you should have been put first."

you gulp.

she purses her lips and makes her hit.

"___, do you resent yourself for the loss?"

you clench your fist as your therapist rubs salt into your open wounds. "the self-neglect? the stress? the post-partum depression? the insomia—"

"i resent myself for the loss," you admit. "... and i resent jungkook for losing me."

when you arrive home, jungkook is in the kitchen cooking.

you didn’t expect him to be home. he was supposed to be picking zion up at this time and you were looking forward to some alone time. clearly, you have a lot to think about. as you take off your shoes, jungkook turns his attention to you.

“hi honey,” he smiles brightly.

truth be told, he had a long day. he was running late this morning and had rushed out the door. as he drove to work, he got annoyed with himself.

he forgot to kiss you before he left.

so you can imagine just how excited he is to see you now… especially with all he has planned for tonight.

“we had a meeting today and it ended early. it went really well so i have some news! also, i picked zion up right after my meeting. took him out for a little father-and-son afternoon... then, i dropped him off at your parents—”

“why would you do that?” you snap, putting your things away.

jungkook chuckles. “uh, maybe because i wanna ask you something tonight…”

your body stiffens.

“but we’ll get to that later! do you want to eat first? i’m cooking your favorite—”

“please stop,” you shut your eyes and take a breath. “jungkook, i had a long day. i’m glad yours was good and you got to bond with zion. i appreciate the effort—i just don’t… i don’t like that you dropped zion off at my parents after picking him up early from daycare. why didn’t you just take him home? and thank you for cooking... but i had a late lunch today, so i’m not hungry.”

“is it so bad i want to spend time with you alone?” jungkook asks, his smile fading.

jungkook isn’t stupid.

he knows you’re not in the mood, but he can’t help but push your boundaries a little. besides, communication is always good, right? at least, that’s what he’s been told.

“it’s okay if you don’t want to eat... as long as you ate today. what did you eat?” he attempts.

you move past jungkook as he asks you the question. taking out your phone, you check for any missed messages. jungkook’s eyebrows furrow as you ignore him. he catches your waist and guides you against the kitchen counter. grabbing your phone from your hands, he puts it aside.

“woah,” he pouts. “what’s up? why are you acting like this?”

you look at jungkook and hate yourself. his eyes are so kind and full of love.

you know it.

you feel it.

it hurts so bad.

“what’s with the mood?” he asks, more gently this time.

jungkook moves his hands from your waist to wrap around you. he nuzzles himself into the crook of your neck and hugs you tightly. “if you’re mad at me about something, that’s okay... but be angry here. don’t ignore me. being angry together is better than not being together at all.”

his plea makes your eyes tear up.

this isn’t easy for you either, but to be honest... it’s now or never. tonight, your heart feels especially heavy. you can’t blame it. some people say time heals all wounds—perhaps, this is it.

this is the time limit.

“can i tell you my news?” he asks, partly trying to stall the conversation and partly because it was good news.

“sure.”

“i got a job offer,” jungkook says. “i’d have to do an informal interview but it’s basically mine if i want it. they’re setting up a branch in new york. they want me to go there for 3-6 months and help start everything up. guide and mentor the visual director there—”

“that’s amazing—”

“i don’t want it,” jungkook chuckles. “they told me to sleep on it and make my decision in a month. until then, they offered me a raise! isn’t that great?”

your smile drops.

all of the feelings you’ve been trying to regulate since you stepped out of your therapist's office today feel like they’ve gone out the window. was he serious? he declined such a big step in his career—for a raise?

“jungkook,” you croak. “do you know why we broke up?”

he pulls away.

what a fucking switch up. he doesn’t understand.

for a moment, he doesn’t know what to do with his hands. does he reach out to hold yours or keep them by his side? he’s caught off guard. he doesn’t know how to answer you and frankly, he fucking hates this question.

“uh, why are you asking me—”

“what was the other thing?” you ask, already suspecting it. “are you going to ask me to marry you tonight?” you blurt.

he shoves his hand in his pocket.

“jungkook, are you asking me to marry you tonight? yes or no?”

he blinks at you.

his heart is prepared more than ever; “yes.”

“don’t.”

jungkook’s heart drops.

“don’t because you’re saying no or don’t because you want a better proposal?” he attempts to lighten the mood with a smile. he takes his hands out of his pocket and reaches for yours. you don’t let him take it. instead, you shake your head.

“don’t because you don’t even know why we’re broken up.”

instantly, the tension between you two increases. it’s through the roof, actually. it feels like one wrong word, one wrong move, one wrong recalled memory—everything crumbles.

everything fails.

everything faces the end.

“___, i can’t answer your question because i’m not prepared to. honestly, i wasn’t prepared for the break-up. it just happened. it grew into one. ___, you never said, ‘jungkook, it’s over. we’re broken up.’ ... no. you said, ‘jungkook... i can’t breathe anymore. i need air. i need space from us,’ — that’s what you said. but to hell with that, right? we’ve been sleeping together and it’s not like we hate each other. you love me. i know you do... so i really don’t understand why you won’t marry me despite knowing the simple truth—”

you move away from him.

god, it’s so hard to be next to him sometimes.

heading to the cabinets, you take out a glass and pour yourself some water. drinking it, you hear jungkook sigh and groan in frustration.

“are we really going to fight tonight?” he asks, annoyed.

you shrug and put your water down. “shouldn’t we? it’s kind of overdue.”

jungkook scratches the back of his head. his lips tighten and his mind is already dizzy as he asks;

“___, why did you break up with me?”

a beat.

“i wanted more from you.”

he looks at you confused. “the fuck does that mean? sex?”

you shake your head.

“jungkook, i was moving up with my career. you were constantly annoyed that i was overworking myself and that i only cared about zion. you were always mad at me when i brought up work—especially about yours. you didn’t want more. you refused the promotions and all the different leadership roles. you refused more hours—you refused to grow… just like now.”

jungkook huffs. “is this about money again? we’ve never had issues providing for zion and this lifestyle.”

“again?” you chuckle. “honey, it wasn’t about the money. at least to me, it wasn’t. i love you and would have married you regardless of my career path and yours—”

“then why won’t you marry me? you always say you will but you say shit like this. you know it fucks me up, right? this isn’t fair. you can’t keep changing your mind.”

“it’s not that i don’t know what you are to me and what i want,” you take a deep breath. it feels painful to be right. “it’s that marrying you isn’t going to make any of this easier. at least, not right now.”

his eyes are filled with hope.

hope that maybe the reason is childish and not what he knows it really is. he hopes it’s because he left one too many socks inches away from the laundry hamper in your bedroom. he hopes it’s because you got tired of him always queuing his karaoke songs in the car before yours. he hopes it’s because (not really) you actually took an interest in nam joon or something.

most of all, he hopes it’s not what he knows it is.

“jungkook, we were disagreeing on everything. you thought i was greedy for wanting more for myself—for our family—”

“so it’s about whether or not i accept the job offer? i still have a month to think about it. i can’t just leave you and zion. you get that, right? i don’t just leave.” jungkook scoffs in disbelief. “and you act like i didn’t just get promoted. i accepted it, didn’t i? i did so to impress you because i love you. i did it to win you back because i love you.”

“but why didn’t you do it for yourself?” you fuse. “why can’t you want more for yourself?”

“___, i love you—”

you hiss, taking a step away from him. “stop saying you love me when you—”

“when i what?” jungkook steadies his tone. “when i made a decision that you didn’t like? ___, i made a practical choice back then. what other option did i have?”

“you chose wrong,” you cry. “is that what you’ve been waiting for me to say? jungkook, you chose wrong because you were afraid! it wasn’t practical. it was safe. you took the settlement, forgave those friends, and looked stupid while doing it. meanwhile, i risked everything. i fucking fought for you! for what? jungkook, it ruined us.”

jungkook shifts, taking a step closer to you. he runs his hands through his hair and groans.

“___, they have a family too. they fucked up and they apologized. i didn’t go through with the lawsuit because regardless if they deserved it—their families didn’t. their children didn’t. for fucks sake, one of them has a daughter zion’s age—”

a sob escapes your lips.

jungkook’s shoulders slump as he lowers his head. you lower yours too, feeling your tears roll down your cheeks.

“jungkook, i love you,” you weakly admit. “i swear to god, i have never loved anyone more in my life than i have ever loved you. you’re the kindest man i’ve ever met. you empathize with others and put them before your needs. you chased me around like a fucking dog for the last 9 months, completely disregarding any self-respect. truth be told, you gave me a purpose to live. you made me zion’s mom and the love of your life. in so many ways, i don’t deserve you… but i also don’t deserve this. it feels like even when i can't trust you—i still do. it ruins me, jungkook.”

angry, jungkook disagrees.

“what are you fucking talking about—no. don’t say shit like that.”

“you kept me together for so long that i don’t know how to fall apart if you’re not around. jungkook, i had to fall apart. i was so tired then. i was so unhappy and everything you did to hold me together only angered me. it lit this fire inside of me and i felt like i couldn’t touch anything or anyone… why couldn’t you just be sad with me?”

“you fell apart before i could even process what happened—” he recalls, tears threatening his eyes. “___, i was devastated beyond belief. i was sad too. i was afraid too. you don’t think i wanted to cry in bed all day with you? i had to get up. i had to take care of zion and i’m sorry if i held onto you tighter than i should have—but i had to. there was no other way i could’ve lived if i didn’t hold on to you like that. you’re my air. i love you, ___ and in case you didn’t know; it hurt me too. losing our—h-holy fuck. i love you. ___, i love you. please, i love you so much—”

you sob.

you don’t even try to hold yourself together. a heavy cry escapes your lips and jungkook instantly lifts his head and comes to you. he wraps you in his arms as you cry into them.

“i love you,” you whimper. “i don’t blame you for it—really, i don’t. b-but why did you stay? i worked so hard and you chose to stay. i stressed myself out and couldn’t sleep. i felt so betrayed and i wasn’t eating—”

“i know, i know,” he murmurs, holding back his sobs. “i hate myself for it. it was my fault—”

“don’t—”

you pull away and hit his chest.

your eyes sting from all the crying and your throat feels dry. yet, every fiber inside of you feels like it’s on fire. it feels like you’re burning down the room and all jungkook wants to do is slow dance in it.

“jungkook, when you settled, it took something from us. something beautiful—our second—our time.” you slow your breathing to gather the courage to say it.

to say everything.

to say it all and maybe, save it all.

“honey, i d-destroyed and hurt more than you did... and i know you don’t blame me; but am i ever going to stop blaming m-myself?” you sob. “i’m pushed into t-this... corner where it’s all my fault—and it is, you know? if i hadn’t stressed myself over your case and just f-focused on making partner at the firm—if i had just i-ignored the f-feeling of the knife you twisted—it was supposed to be this time around.”

jungkook’s heart breaks.

“9 months...” you say, voice trembling.

“don’t say it like that,” jungkook begs. “my love, i didn’t forget.”

that’s just it.

he hasn’t forgotten either.

yet, his body doesn’t ache like yours does. as much as your heart wants to forgive and find beauty in this tragedy—your body hasn’t healed. all those months ago, when you focused on jungkook’s case and stressed yourself to the bone—you made a mistake. you neglected your health to prioritize everything but yourself.

your breath hitches as you recall everything. a part of you feels relieved to have said it all aloud, but inside, it feels like something has burnt up—like a part of you has died.

you reach for him, cupping his cheeks in your hands. jungkook’s tears spill over, and you gently wipe them away with your thumb.

his body collapses into yours. his sobs wrack his chest as he buries his face in your arms.

jungkook cries for the break-up.

for the hurt that’s grown between you two.

he blames himself even though deep down he knows it’s not his fault.

the ache in his chest feels unbearable. you tighten your hold on him, bracing yourself for what comes next, but before you can speak, your body gives in.

everything does dizzy and you hold your breath.

suddenly, your knees hit the floor, and you collapse in front of jungkook, the weight of it all too much to bear.

“i’m s-sorry,” you choke out. "i can't—fuck. i'm so heartbroken, jungkook. i can't—"

jungkook drops down beside you, pulling you into him. as you cling to each other, you feel his heart racing, his breath catching in his sobs, mirroring your own. he holds you tighter, as if he could take all your pain into himself. if he could, you know he would.

and somehow, in the midst of this overwhelming pain, you feel the strangest thing.

this has to be the most painful moment in your entire relationship, but it’s also the most healing.

after nine months of distance, you finally grieve together.

the grief overwhelms you two.

after what feels like an eternity, you manage to compose yourself, pulling away from his embrace. meanwhile, jungkook is still crying heavily. you reach up, cupping his face in your hands again, wiping the tears from his swollen eyes. he leans into your touch, his lips pressing softly against the palm of your hand, his breathing slowly calming down. but then, he moves closer, and you know what’s coming next.

jungkook tries to kiss you.

you push him away gently, your heart breaking all over again.

“... i think you should go home,” you whisper, your voice tired and cracked.

"___, please—"

"we fought enough tonight. i don't have anything left in me, jungkook... just go."

for a moment, silence hangs in the air, thick with everything left unsaid. there's still more. he swears it. he knows it because his heart races with so many more confessions. so many more things he has to tell you.

like the fact that when you cleared his name, he never felt so loved in his life.

like the fact that when you stressed yourself over him and got upset with his decision—he wanted to take everything back.

like the fact that when he let you cry in bed all day over the loss, he cried as he held and fed zion in the living room.

but now is not the time.

now, the hurt aches and he has to let it. he has to let you fall apart. he has to feel this too because if he doesn't—then he misses it all. he misses everything and he can't do that.

he needs to know.

he needs to learn.

he needs to love.

jungkook swallows hard, his voice barely a whisper. “okay… whatever you want.”

you both stand, your movements slow and heavy. you watch as he gathers his belongings, guilt and disappointment twisting in your stomach. at the door, he pauses, eyes closed as he takes a deep breath.

“what about me?”

his voice breaks the stillness. you feel your heart sink.

“what about you?” you ask softly, though you already know the answer.

“___, i don’t want to go,” he pleads, desperation creeping into his voice. “i… i can’t do this. not again.”

“what do you mean?” you force a weak smile. “this is our first break-up.”

“for real?”

you let out a sad laugh, though it holds no real humor.

“for now.”

jungkook takes a second to compose himself.

“i’m gonna pick up zion and have him sleep over at mine... and it’s okay if you’re still full… just eat a late dinner,” he murmurs softly, eyes cast downward. then, turning toward the door, he looks back one last time, his voice soft but filled with emotion.

“for the record, i thought i was home… but if air, space, and time is what you need, so be it. just know, i hope i’m it in the end. i hope i’m what you need.”

they say the 3-year itch is when the sand timer runs out. it takes two people to flip it over and restart the clock. at your 3-year itch with jungkook, suddenly your careers were where you two scratched.

then, the plagiarism accusations came along. as horrible as it was, you thought this was the perfect opportunity to show jungkook how much you love him. how much were you willing to do for him, and how much could your career benefit you two? at the peak of all this, you didn’t know it.

you were carrying more than just work.

at 5 weeks, 1 week after jungkook settled—time was up.

jungkook sits in his car, crying and staring at the ring that should be on your finger. he can’t help but feel all the sides of it. he shoves it back inside the box and opens the glove compartment. throwing it in, he continues to reflect.

was he insensitive? was he so wrong about not wanting to take the job? the proposal was ill-timed, but was he crazy? weren’t you two doing better? … were you hurting all by yourself this entire time? of course, he hurt too. he was just grieving differently… does that make this his fault? he doesn’t know. he doesn’t care. in the end, losing something is still losing something.

truth be told, it’s no one’s fault.

yet, jungkook hits his steering wheel and continues to sob. he wants to blame something. he needs to. as he searches, his heart screams out;

time.

#jungkook angst #jungkook x yn #jungkook fic #bts angst #jungkook scenario #jungkook dilf #bts scenario #bts imagine #bts parent au #bts fic #jungkook dad au #jungkook exes to lovers #jungkook e2l #jk fic rec

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jeonsbabygirlsworld · 11 months ago

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DADDY DRABBLES MOODBOARD

SUMMARY: This Drabble series contains of small scenarios of them being a family from reader giving birth to baby's first words and them adopting pets and much more.

PAIRINGS: Husband JK X wife READER

WARNINGS: SMUT, FLUFF

IN COLLABRATION WITH @ahgasegotarmy116 🩷

A/N: hey guys! I hope you all would like this drabble series Thankyou to @ahgasegotarmy116 to continue when I thought this would go no where SO i plan on releasing twice a month, Requests for this family is always opened ;) Thank you so much for 550 followers I'm thankful for each one of you <3.

TAGLISTS ARE OPEN, COMMENT DOWN AND ILL ADD YOU

SOME DRABBLES MIGHT CONTAIN SMUT PLEASE BE AWARE🔞

DRABBLE ONE: Where the reader gives birth and Jungkook won't stop panicking.

DRABBLES TWO: In which you give your daughter an important life lesson

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soft4gguk · 25 days ago

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to build a home | chapter sixteen

Pairing: Jungkook x reader. ceo!jk + dilf!jk x nanny!oc

Genre: strangers to lovers. angst. fluff. smut.

Word count: 19.7k

Warnings: don’t wanna spoil too much so i’ll be brief. angst. yes! angst. unprotected sex, oc dom era?, handjobs!!, oral (f), dry humping (bc it’s me lol), loads of riding!, sweet missionary. also… this might not be with, uh, jk. or it might! who knows… keep reading :)

Author’s note: i don’t even know what to say to be honest, i’m so nervous for you guys to read this chapter but also so, so excited to hear what you think!! so, like always, do let me know what you thought!! so much to unpack here lol. I LOVE YOU! thank u for waiting for this one, hope you enjoy. xo <3

This is a work of fiction. Please respect the members and their privacy. x

Chapter Sixteen

You wait for a feeling of dread to take over you. For your heart to feel heavy, for a breath to get caught in your throat. You expect your eyes to burn with the promise of tears in a matter of seconds but none of that comes. Instead what you feel as your words come to a halt and all you can hear is the crashing of the waves, is relief. You feel light, like something’s left you. Something you’d assumed you’d weighted correctly based on the assumptions of your heart, but now you realize how wrong you were. You know this because as silence fills the air and you can’t muster up the courage to look at Jungkook, a weightless feeling overcomes you. One that lets you know that you can let go. You can breathe now. You did the right thing – you tried.

It’s something you can barely control when your legs give out and you’re lowering yourself, sitting on the sand as you fixate your gaze towards the sky. It’s beautiful, you think, a sense of peace taking over you. You feel his eyes on you and for a second, he lingers. Hovering over you as if calculating his next move. You don’t seem to be paying him much mind and Jungkook is almost grateful for this. He believes your eyes on his could break him in more ways than one and so the semi-privacy you give him as he collects his thoughts is one he doesn’t take for granted. He stays very still, taking your words in even after you’ve gone quiet. He waits for his head to spin, his fight or flight to kick in, a wave of overthinking to take over him but none of this happens. And when it doesn’t, he simply follows your actions, coming down to sit next to you. He’s awfully close, it’s what you perceive at first. The warmth his body gives out, the one you’ve grown heartachingly familiar to, gives this away. His eyes aren’t on you anymore and before you can think this through, you’re looking at him. You watch him as he watches the sea and the sky perform for the two of you. The sight alone feels like a consolation from God, but you can’t help it when your eyes remain glued to him. On the way his gaze grows softer, dark hair swept slightly by the wind, his strong arms wrapped around his knees, making him look small. His nose, his lips. His face. The face you love, despite it all.

Despite his silence.

And so, ever so softly, you plead.

“You don’t owe me anything. You don’t have to feel what I feel but please don’t give me silence.”

Something inside of you tells you this is what you should’ve said long ago, but you reach for no harshness in the way things have turned out for the two of you. You can only be grateful that these words are finding you now.

He looks at you, eyes meeting yours that never left him. His voice is a barely there whisper, but still all you can hear.

“I’m sorry.”

You smile. “What for?”

Is he sorry for his silence? For the silence he now knows he’s kept for weeks. For the silence he now knows is the cause of very many things that now make sense to him. Is he sorry for not loving you back? Is he sorry for you? For the way your eyes give the sadness away, even when almost tricked by your smile. Is he sorry for not being able to give himself this thing. This one good thing that’s his and only his. For your eyes, that seem to take him in like nothing else matters. Not the sky, not the sea, not the way your heart sinks with every passing second that it takes for him to speak next.

“You don’t deserve my silence. You don’t deserve any of this.”

“I know,” you say, but your voice remains soft. Kind. “I choose my battles, though.”

He smiles at you, but it doesn’t quite meet his eyes. “I heard you that first time.”

“Yeah… I figured that much.”

“I didn’t think–” he stops himself.

“That I meant it?”

“Yeah,” you nod at this and he continues, “at first I didn’t want to say anything just in case you hadn’t realized what you said but then you… acknowledged it and I– I froze, __. I should’ve said something, anything, I know that now. In that moment, though, I just… pushed it to the back of my mind because my brain told me a million reasons as to why maybe you didn’t mean it.”

You turn your gaze away from his, fixing your eyes back into the ocean so as to hide the way his words make you feel. Something about your words being pushed to the back of his mind makes your heart ache. In this moment you realize that the pain you’ve been feeling has little to do with love unreciprocated and much to do with love dismissed. You know his words hold no ill-intent but you can’t help but picture your feelings as this physical thing – small and fragile at the palm of his hands, being crumpled like paper and tossed to the side.

Nonetheless, you push the feeling aside for the sole reason that you know him. You know Jungkook isn’t a bad person, you know his actions are but a reaction of something heavier he carries.

“I understand. I was hurt, I won’t lie to you and I say I wasn’t but… I understand.” Jungkook nods once, facing the ocean, trying to grasp for words but when he fails, you continue. “This silence makes me feel like we’re strangers. Like a person I know– a person I love, is a stranger to me. And I’m at fault for that, too. I should’ve come to you sooner. I should’ve told you how I was feeling.”

“I don’t–,” Jungkook sighs, and the act alone loosens up the tension that he’d been holding onto. “I don’t blame you for not coming to me. I don’t think my actions were welcoming and that probably… that probably really fucking sucked for you, __. I’m sorry.”

“Do you still love her?” Your own question takes you aback, but you can’t take it back now. This is a good thing, you reckon. Now’s a good time as any. “Ira, I mean. Do you still love her?”

It takes him a beat too long to answer. “No. Ira and I had been on a steady decline for a while… longer than you’d probably think.”

“I don’t think of it, Jungkook. I know nothing about it.”

He looks at you now. “You’re right.”

“And I’m not asking you to… tell me all of it. I know it was hard. I know it still is hard so I would never demand to know but… I think I’d like to know that much.”

“I don’t love her. I thought I did, when she first left I thought that on top of everything, I’d have to deal with being in love with her still but… how could I love someone that did that to the person I love the most?”

“Soori,” you state, matter of factly.

“Yeah. And I get that… I’m a person. With human reactions. That I can resent her for what she did to her as a father but still hold on to what she gave me as a man but the moment she walked away… I’m not saying she took all the love I’ve ever felt for her with her, but she made things very clear for me. That wasn’t the person I’d fallen in love with. The person I’d fallen in love with would’ve never done that. And so that was that, I guess.”

You shift your body to face him better and the expression he holds breaks something inside of you.

“But it still hurts.”

“Yeah. Yeah, it still hurts. I think of the day when I’ll have to tell Soori about it. And when I’m not thinking about it, I’m having nightmares about it.”

“I get that but… I also meant,” now it’s your turn to sigh, deflating slightly before your next words leave you. “It hurts you as a… person. Not a father.”

He smiles, half-heartedly. “It does. I’m just now realizing that it does.”

“Because you can’t love me.”

Jungkook hates the finality your words hold. The way you say it matter-of-factly. The way your voice loses all the hope it usually carries. The way you sound resigned – like you’ve just given up. On this. On him. But he can’t blame you for any of it. All he can do now is give you honesty. You and himself. All he can do now is try.

“I don’t know what I’m allowed to feel or not feel. I don’t know what I feel. All I know is that most days, I don’t even trust myself. That it takes me about ten minutes every morning to get out of fight or flight mode. I second guess my very own thoughts and when I think of the me that fell in love with Ira, or the me that opened up to anyone in the past for that matter, it feels so incredulous. Like an out of body experience. I don’t feel like me anymore. I haven’t in a while. I don’t know who I am outside of being Soori’s dad. And every piece of myself I’ve regained it’s been by observing the muscle memory my friends have around me.”

“I understand.” It’s all you can say, afraid that anything else would fracture you further.

“Yeah, you do. Surprisingly you do.”

He looks at you now and you allow yourself to stare into his eyes. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means that it’s always felt like you understood, even when you didn’t know. You never asked questions yet you never tiptoed around it. Around me.”

“I think the cure for most things is giving ourselves the permission to feel them. I like to extend that to those who I think might need it.”

He laughs, in disbelief. Not because he doesn’t believe you, but because the wisest part of him does. “Yeah, that’s the thing, __.”

You frown. His tone picks up a bit, making you feel slightly defensive yourself. “What is?”

“When I met you I… I almost resented you. Sometimes I ask myself how it is I ended up giving you the job–”

“I ask myself the same thing. But I never thought you resented me.”

“I didn’t. I didn’t resent you. Maybe I wanted to. But I never got to. I’d be in a shitty mood going down the stairs, feeling ready to be out the door and get to the office so I could shut everything out and not have to deal with anyone. Then I’d go inside the kitchen and you’d smile at me. So bright I mistook it for pity for a while until I realized that it wasn’t that. You just… understood. I still don’t know what that means but all I know is that it changed me.” His gaze falters for a while before facing down. “I wanted to go back to my normal life. I wanted my problems to go away, as much as I knew that was impossible, it’s still all I wanted. And then you came in and gave me the total opposite of that.”

He looks up, eyes on yours and it hurts. It hurts because he’s making total sense, yet you’re confused. You find yourself in the middle of a battle between your heart and your brain, and they seem to be hearing whatever appeases them the most.

Jungkook smiles, more to himself than at you, as if lost in a memory. “You felt new – not because you were new in my life, but because you’re nothing like I’ve ever known before. I tried to push you away because welcoming you into my life meant more changes, but that never worked out, did it?”

“I don’t know,” you answer sincerely. Wherever this conversation’s going, you don’t know, but all you can do is listen.

“__, you’re–” his words come to a halt, breath hitching in your throat as you wait. “You’re warm and bright. You’re so beautiful, the way you think and the way you speak don’t stand behind – not a single part of you fails to be beautiful. And I was the complete opposite when I met you. You pulled me out of it, against my will even.”

“Jungkook, why are you telling me this?”

“Because I don’t know what else to say. I don’t know how to tell you how I feel, but this much I know it’s true.”

Your eyes hide from his gaze, the burn of the feeling in the form of tears catches up to you and now you’re the one that vows silence.

“I’m scared,” Jungkook says. “It sounds so fucking stupid when I say it. And all I seem to do is try and push away the feeling but it just comes back stronger the next time. I’m not scared of what I feel for you, I’m not scared of you, __. But I am scared of what that entails.”

“Why,” you ask, the word barely there.

Jungkook’s body turns to face you, his hand coming up to your face gently before he’s bringing your eyes to his. He tries to let his heart speak but it doesn’t quite meet his tongue.

“I don’t know.”

“Oh.”

“You don’t deserve… this.”

“I don’t.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry because you can’t be with me?”

“No. I’m sorry because I’m about to ask you to be with me.”

Your eyes widen, confusion lacing your features yet the glimmer in your eyes is evident and Jungkook doesn’t miss it. The way you look at him right now makes him want to be better, and perhaps that’s what’s been getting him through these months all along. You.

“I– why would you be sorry for that?”

“Because I’m not gonna be perfect at it, but I want to be good at trying.”

“That’s all I need, Jungkook.”

“We haven’t… given ourselves the opportunity to try. To really try. I guess that’s on me, so I apologize. But I want us to try. I want us to talk and I want to try and explain to you why I feel the way I do. I want to understand it myself I–”

You hold his cheek in your hand, stopping his words. “That’s all I need.”

“No–”

“Yes. For now, it’s enough. We don’t have to live in a hypothetical future. I know it’s hard not to sometimes but, we can go day by day. We can give ourselves the next twenty four hours and then go from there. It’s all we have control over, isn’t it?”

“You’re wise. I was not this wise at twenty three. Still am not.”

You chuckle, shaking your head at his words. “I’m not wise. I’m–,” in love, you want to say, but you know that if a moment ever demanded for time and patience, it was this. “I care for you. I care for this. I care for us. I can’t begin to imagine what it felt like… when she left. And I understand that pain doesn’t go away in a day, but I just want to be by your side, I guess.”

“You are. You have been since the beginning.”

“So, let me.”

“Okay.”

He wants to kiss you and God, there’s nothing you want more right now but there’s no way of guaranteeing privacy and you’d like to keep this moment to yourself. Jungkook calls your name, making you face him once again. The sky’s about to end its show and you think that perhaps it wasn’t all consolation from God but another, bigger thing. Hope. A sign. Pleading in screaming colors.

“Yeah?”

“I haven’t done this in a while.”

“What exactly?”

He ignores your question. “I mean, years. I was probably your age the last time I did this and I don’t know if much has changed but,” your face still hints at confusion but there’s a little smile that forms in your lips that he doesn’t miss. It makes him feel shy but he breaks through it, needing you to hear him loud and clear and for nothing in his demeanor to translate into anything but what it is he wants.

“Will you be my girlfriend?”

You smile. “I’ve never been asked that in my life.”

“Oh, I– maybe it’s weird–”

“Yes.” Jungkook frowns. “Yes, I’ll be your girlfriend, I mean.”

He smiles. Heartachingly so and God, it hurts so good.

“I probably should’ve asked when I could kiss you.”

“Meet me in the hallway at midnight, we can kiss then.”

“Deal.”

“Oh, and Jungkook?”

“Yeah, baby?”

“I like knowing that you’re the first person to have asked me that.”

“I want many firsts with you, __.”

A soaring feeling takes over you. You feel like running in the direction of the wind, so fast it’d almost feel like flying.

“We’re off to a good start, then.”

“Yeah. Yeah we are.”

The rest of the night breezes you by. A calm taking over you that you hadn’t felt in weeks. A calm that’s only overshadowed by the longing you feel for him. You long to hold him, to kiss him, to brand the new title you now hold.

Girlfriend.

You’re his girlfriend.

Lucy corners you as soon as you two make your way back, sporting casual faces as you both separate into opposite sides of the big garden so as to not draw attention to your absence. He goes back to the grill, an oblivious Mingyu and an all-too-knowing Taehyung waiting for him. You go back to Mai and Kenny, taking Soori in your arms and heading to the kitchen to make her bottle. Lucy follows you then, concern and curiosity all over her face until she sees the smile on your face. You barely get the words out before Jimin’s making his way inside the kitchen, too, cutting your conversation short. Nonetheless, she smiles. Pleased enough with what she knows, but not entirely surprised. She’d been rooting for you all along.

By the time Soori begins to fuss about, you don’t waste a second to put her to bed. Jungkook approaches you and his proximity feels like fire, igniting all sorts of things inside of you. He offers to help and put her to bed but you encourage him to finish up at the grill and spend time with his friends – it’s your last night here after all and the weekend had been full of ups and downs. He deserves this moment of steady ups, to calmly go about his night and enjoy the company that surrounds him. By the time Soori’s tucked into bed, dinner’s ready. You steal glances and knowing smiles from the opposite end of the table, enjoying the relaxed nature he sports and how beautiful it looks on him. Your boyfriend.

Yeah, of course, a part of you wants to scream it at the top of your lungs. You want to wrap your arms around him and not waste a single second. But you’d be lying if you said the anticipation wasn’t building so sweetly – the thought alone of the night coming to an end as you two come together filling you up with something that feels new. Security. It’s comforting, you think, not having to doubt it for a second.

With very many helping hands, the dinner table is clear and all that’s left to do is relax by the fire. Soft music playing in the speakers, old tales between old friends being exchanged, accompanied by laughs and smiles. It’s the perfect night, and you think of the irony that it holds. Your morning started with uncertainty, the kind that pangs at your chest and leaves you restless. Now, looking at him, the light coming from the fire dancing across his features, you couldn’t feel more different. Your chest feels airy and for the first time in a while, you’re confident the sleep that will find you tonight will be peaceful.

After much deliberation, Mai being the voice of reason, it’s decided that it’ll be an early night. There’s packing to do and an early morning that awaits to drive back to the city. You feign a sad face when Lucy reaches for your hand to help you get up from the couch and Jungkook smiles because he knows all too well. You’re a shit liar and in a moment of self-indulgence, he likes holding that knowledge. He likes knowing you. He likes that there’s something in this room that only you and him know, that’s yours to keep. Another part of him wishes to break the distance – cant stand it, even. He wants to sit next to you, to pull you into his lap and feel you against his chest. He wants to whisper things in your ear when the conversation around him grows boring and to feel secluded from the world, even if in a room full of people, because he has you.

You check on Soori, who’s sound asleep, before you head back to your room. You breeze through the process of packing, too, yet taking your time. It’s thirty minutes to midnight and the anticipation builds inside of you like smoke. When you’re all packed you decide to jump in the shower, letting the warm water wash away the day and make room for a new beginning. You’ve always believed in the healing properties a good shower can hold but this one in particular secures the notion for you. You brush your hair and do your skincare, a smile plastered on your face the whole time, so much so that you barely recognize the reflection in the mirror. You’re about to get into your favorite oversized t-shirt, your tried and true choice of sleepwear but you think again, reaching in the very depths of your suitcase and retrieving a white, cotton slip dress with lace embroidering. It’d been a gift from Lucy, who had gotten tired of your old 90s t-shirt of a golden retriever that was missing an eye from wear and tear.

You notice the house has grown quiet around you and at exactly 11:59, you stand in front of the door, turning the lights off inside your room and taking a deep breath. You smile, shaking your head as the romantic in you (which could be said is all of you) thinks of the fact that the last time you kissed Jungkook today in the wine cellar, you didn’t imagine your next kiss would be as his girlfriend.

The universe romances you back, because at exactly midnight you open your door, a gasp leaving your mouth as you’re met directly with Jungkook. You have about enough time to register the smile on his face before he’s grabbing you by the waist and pulling you in, lips on yours before you can even speak. You melt into the kiss, hear the way he sighs against your mouth, making you smile. You wrap your arms around him, fingers carding through his hair as you pull him impossibly closer to you. He pulls away, eager to see your face, but not before your lips meet his again in a single whisper of a kiss, like he can’t fully pull away.

“Well, hello,” you say.

“You make me a weak man, I’m sorry.”

This makes you laugh, bringing your lips back to his. “Mm, I beg to differ. All the waiting we had to do today required a lot of willpower.”

With his lips still on yours, he mumbles, “yeah, I hated every second of that.”

You push him away, mock shock lacing your features. “Hey, I thought it was quite romantic.”

“I think getting to kiss my girlfriend is even more romantic.”

He doesn’t give you a second to process the words that leave him, and all you’re left with is his lips on yours and an army of butterflies taking over every inch of your body, leaving you weak at the knees and at his very mercy. Eventually, though, you compose yourself (if only a little).

“Yeah, it kinda sucked not being able to kiss my boyfriend.”

He pulls away, tight grip at your waist still as he cocks an eyebrow at you. “You got a boyfriend, huh?”

“Yeah, sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I was too caught up in the kissing.”

“Who is this little punk anyways?”

You laugh, throwing your head back. “You know, just some guy I found.”

He pulls you in once again. “Lucky bastard.”

��No, I’m the lucky one.”

“I beg to differ.”

“Let’s agree to disagree.”

“Nah, I say we work it out.”

When he pulls you closer, it’s slower this time. Head leaning to the side, a chaste kiss to the corner of your mouth before he kisses you. He takes his time, taking the lead as you melt into him, letting him guide your tongue with his. You get lost in him, so much so you lose track of time, too focused on the way he claims your mouth, on the way his hands feel as they skim down your body. You almost don’t hear the way you moan against his mouth, fully reacting to him.

When you remove your mouth from his, his lips land on your neck as he peppers open mouthed kisses over your skin.

“We probably shouldn’t be doing this here,” you tell him, closing your eyes at the sensation before drawing your head back involuntarily, granting him more access. “Someone could– come out and see.”

“I don’t care.”

It takes you a minute to register his words and also the certainty of his tone when he says them. “You don’t?”

This makes him stop. “Do you?”

“I– I don’t know. Do you not?”

“I don’t, no.”

“But-”

“You’re my girlfriend. This should’ve not been a secret for a while now.”

“Oh.”

“But we can take as much time as you need,” he says, calmly scanning your eyes to try and read your thoughts.

“No, no. I– I just want you to feel ready.”

“I’m ready.”

“Are you sure? We have… all the time in the world.”

“Yeah, so why waste it?”

You smile at his words. “How would we go about it?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know. I guess I could just… bring it up? Namjoon’s gonna freak out.”

You both laugh. “Lucy already knows.”

“Oof. Jiminie’s gonna be mad he didn’t find out before her.”

“Our best friends are dating.” You widen your eyes, making Jungkook chuckle at your sweetness.

“Yeah, and so are we. That’s kinda cool, isn’t it?”

“Does that mean we get to…,” you feel shy all of a sudden, hiding your face slightly so you don’t face him, “go on double dates and stuff?”

“Yes, angel. We get to go on all kinds of dates.”

“I’m excited about that. I’m excited, Jungkook.”

“Me too, baby.” He pecks your lips once before he pulls away, leaving you pouting and needy for more. “I’m gonna have to get a new nanny.”

His words make you pull away slightly, shock evident all over your face. “What? Why? What do you mean?”

“No, baby,” he laughs. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant… well, I want us to go places together, just us two.”

“Lucy can babysit. She’s good with kids, plus Jimin’s used to babysitting her and she’s very comfortable around her and–”

His hands cup your cheeks, bringing your forehead to his. He can’t quite put into words, the way it makes him feel when you talk about Soori like this. With an overprotectiveness he’s only ever seen in, well, himself.

“Okay, baby.”

“Okay.”

He smiles, thumb caressing your cheek and he can’t help but chuckle. Your own laughter is soft, rolling your eyes a bit at his teasing. The next kiss he presses against your lips is tender, and you melt into him, sinking into the feeling and surrendering to his touch. Your body’s used to him, lips familiar with his own but your heart can’t help but feel like this moment is full of firsts. The hand that holds your waist grips tighter, his chest now flushed to yours. You can feel his breathing, taste his lips, touch his skin as it gets warmer with the heat of your kiss. Words of need are about to escape your mouth but before they can, Soori’s baby monitor is going off on Jungkook’s phone. He sighs, giving a little out of breath chuckle before he’s reaching for his pocket and retrieving his phone.

“Is she okay,” you ask, peeking into the screen to see her on the baby cam.

“Yep, just awake. Maybe it’s just taking her a while to adjust to the new sleeping environment.”

“Yeah, that sounds about it.”

“I’m gonna go check on her.”

“I can come with,” you tell him, fingers coming to his face to push a strand of hair behind his ear.

“No, baby, it’s okay. Go to my room and wait for me there, I’ll only be a minute.”

“Alright.”

You smile as he leans in, lips capturing yours in a quick peck that doesn’t fail to steal your breath away nonetheless. He makes his way to Soori’s nursery and you cross the hallway, heading to his room. His bed looks inviting and it’s only when your head touches the pillow that the weight of the day seems to fall upon you. You feel like you’ve lived a variety of realities today. From hopeful, to hopeless to… this. Now. Waiting for him in his bed, his scent that still lingers on the pillows sending a troop of butterflies to your stomach as you take him in. Your body yearns for him, wants him, and perhaps not all sexually. Just holding him, breathing him in, could be enough you reckon.

You miss the way your eyes grow heavy, body nuzzling into the sheets, and it’s only when Jungkook walks through the door that you notice you’d fallen asleep.

“Hi,” you say, the grogginess in your voice making him smile.

“Sorry for waking you up,” he says, getting into bed with you and pulling you closer in one swift movement until his arm is wrapped around your waist and your foreheads are nearly touching.

“It’s okay. How long were you gone for?”

“Like twenty minutes. She was a bit fussy.” Your eyes widen in surprise, it’d felt like no time had passed at all. “You tired, baby?”

“I don’t know.”

He laughs. “What do you mean you don’t know?”

“My body is but my mind is not. I’m too… happy.”

“I’m happy, too.” He kisses you, pulling away too quickly for your taste but when the back of his hand gently caresses your cheek you rejoice in the pleasure of the simple act. “Thank you.”

Opening your eyes, you look confused. “What for?”

“Everything. Understanding, being with me… not just now but, in general. It makes me feel… like everything’s going to be okay.”

“Everything is going to be okay. The angels just told me.”

He laughs, loud and so very beautiful. “They did?”

“Yeah. What are you laughing for?”

“Nothing, nothing. You’re right. Bet they talk to you, considering that, you know, you’re part of the gang.”

“The gang?”

“Of angels.”

“I know what you mean I just can’t believe you called them a gang.”

“Fine. The troop.”

“That’s almost worse.”

“You’re not unpleased often but when you are… oof.”

You smile, with your eyes first before it meets your lips and for some reason Jungkook finds the act so seductive. Some reason is cutting him slack, actually. He knows the reason. He knows all of the reasons.

“Please me then.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Yeah? You’re not too tired?”

You shake your head. “No, baby.”

He kisses you, words a murmur against your lips when he says, “we can go slow.”

“Mm, yeah. I like that.”

“Yeah?”

You nod your head, a lazy smile on your lips when he pulls away and that’s all the confirmation he needs. The mere notion of having you soon sends his body into overdrive in sheer anticipation. Your skin is soft as he runs his hand down your arm, reaching your leg before it’s making its way back up under your nightgown. You sigh, eyes on his before they’re closing at the feeling of his touch on your bare skin. You’re receptive to him, tonight more than ever and you don’t miss the way he adorns your skin with goosebumps everywhere he touches. His hand closes around your ass cheek before he squeezes. He groans, making you smile. When you open your eyes, his are impossibly dark and fixated on you. You kiss him, nimble fingers making a descend down his torso, stopping under his navel before you touch the soft skin of his abdomen under his shirt. He hisses against your lips when your hand finds his cock over his sweatpants, hard. You close your palm around him, thumb moving against the head and the friction alone has him groaning against your mouth.

“Fuck,” he says, voice deep in a whisper.

“Feel good?”

“Yeah, so good.”

You hum against his lips, hand coming inside his pants and wrapping around his cock. He feels hot and heavy in your hold already and he sounds even prettier now than he did before. So supple for you, so needy. It makes you want to give him the world and then some. You jerk him for longer than either of you can register, too distracted by the way your lips meet sloppy and lazily in a kiss that seems to have no end. Jungkook gets carried away, a sweet sinking feeling in his lower stomach making him regain consciousness as he brings his hand to yours to halt your movements.

“Shit– I was so close,” he pants, grip tightening on your hand.

“Why not? I want it. Please.”

He shakes his head. “Wanna fuck you.”

And you want that too, yet something about the way you two were kissing, his little moans and groans against your mouth as you felt his cock throb in your hand has you making a mental note to come back to this at some point. Easy, simple, like you have all the time in the world.

And you do.

“How do you want me, Kook?”

He looks into your eyes for a beat too long, as if contemplating the endless possibilities.

“Fuck, come here, baby.”

He kisses you deep, towering a bit over you as he presses you against the mattress before he’s holding your waist and swiftly turning you to the side until your back is flushed against his front. You feel his cock against your ass, backing up a little to feel him better and he whines, forehead falling on your shoulder. He takes your panties off in a second, your hazy mind barely noticing until the warmth of his fingers finds the place you want him in the most.

“You’re so wet, baby.”

“Want you so bad, Jungkook.”

You turn your head to face him better, give him a fucked out smile that has his cock jumping for attention between your bodies.

“You’re so beautiful,” he says, lips so close to being on yours. Your cheeks grow a new shade of crimson and he smiles, kissing you finally.

“Thank you. I think you are.” You can barely finish your sentence, words getting caught in a little gasp as his middle and ring finger circle your entrance. He coats them in your slick before they find your clit, running lazy circles against it and making you jolt slightly in his hold at the sensation. “That feels so nice.”

“Can’t wait to have my cock in here,” he presses his fingers into your opening, ever so slowly, making you whine as you back into them. “Stay still, __. Be patient.”

“Please,” you beg, looking into his eyes before they grow heavy in pleasure as he begins to move his fingers inside of you.

“You’re so fucking tight it drives me insane, baby.”

“Y-yeah?” your voice is a whimper.

“Yeah. ‘S all mine, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, Jungkook.” You moan his name, can feel the way he smiles against your cheek before he’s pressing a kiss against it, slowly moving towards your ear, his breath on the sensitive spot making you shiver.

“Say it.”

“It’s your pussy, Jungkook. Only yours. I’m only yours.”

“Yeah, baby. You are. All fucking mine.”

He fucks his fingers into you one last time before he’s abruptly pulling out, making you gasp and close your legs at the loss of friction. He wastes little time, bringing your ass to him before he’s spitting into hand and bringing it down to his cock, coating it over his head and down his shaft. He grips at the base, aligning himself against your opening and slowly pushing inside. You both sigh, turning back to meet his face before your laughter combined fills the room. It’s sweet, the way you share this moment with him, his lips on yours not long after, the kiss deepening with each thrust.

“That feels so good, Kook,” you say, bringing your forehead to rest on his.

“Yeah. Love fucking you, baby.”

“Fuck me forever,” you look into his eyes as you say this, playful sure, but words filled with intention.

“Fuck, I’m trying,” he chuckles, “so far, so good.”

He holds onto your hips, fucks you deeper and hits that spot, making your back arch and your eyes roll. “So good.”

His hand travels up, sneaking under your nightgown as he finds your breasts, palm closing around it before he pinches your nipples, pulling sweet little sounds out of you. He fucks you slow but deep, paying close attention to the way your body reacts to him. To the way your moans turn into whines when he goes deeper, the way your hand closes around his under the soft fabric, the way your pussy clenches around his big cock. You begin to unravel in his arms, feeling the way his hand travels down, missing his touch already. He lays his hand on your lower stomach before he’s pressing into the soft flesh, the whine that leaves your lips high pitched at the feeling.

“Do it again,” you plead, “and fuck me harder.”

He complies, pace growing a tad bit faster and deeper until he can feel what he’s doing to you on the palm of his hand. You press your face into the pillow, fingers gripping the sheets tightly as your breathing grows erratic, teeth closing around your bottom lip.

“Gonna cum for me, angel?”

“Yes. Fuck, yes, Jungkook.”

“Let go, baby. Wanna feel you cum all over my cock.”

His words against your neck are all it takes for you to let go, growing very still for a second before you’re cumming in short little spasms and God, it feels so good. He coaxes you through it, words of praise leaving his lips as he places pillowy kisses all over your skin, making you shiver. The bliss takes over your body as you come down, turning to him and locking his lips on yours.

“That was so good,” you tell him, voice soft and sweet and it drives him insane.

“You feel so good.” He sounds a bit delirious, mind fixated on the way your pussy throbs around his cock.

“Want you to cum, baby. Want your cum, please.”

His dick jumps inside of you, he’s sure you can feel it. “Fuck, don’t talk like that.”

You giggle. “Why?”

“I’ll cum like this.”

You blame your boldness on your post-orgasmic bliss. “Why not?”

He smirks, eyes closing as if taken aback by your words. He shakes his head, “you know we can’t.”

“Yeah, I know,” you give, but something in your voice lets him know you’re only rearing up. “But it feels good to think about it. It feels so good. Do you think about it, Jungkook?”

It takes him a minute to register your words, hips starting to move as he thrusts into you slowly. “Y-yeah, I think about it.”

“Does it feel good when you do?”

“Fuck- it does, baby.”

“Sometimes it’s all I can think about," you confess, "you filling me up…”

He lets you sit with your words for a second before he’s pulling out of you. Partly to compose himself, and partly to push you back against the mattress and hover over you, his body finding a spot between your legs. When he looks at you his gaze has darkened, eyes no longer playful.

“Enjoying yourself?”

“Yeah. Are you?” You tempt him, words pushing his new demeanor further.

“You’re a little greedy, aren’t you?” His hand closes around your neck, applying just the right amount of pressure, all the pleasure going to your head as the sensation makes you a little dizzy.

“Yeah, just for you, Jungkook.”

He wants to bite back, to keep the act up but the truth is that your words dismantle him, cock throbbing in painful pleasure and he needs to cum. He crashes his lips into yours, bringing his hips down and gripping at his base until he’s pushing inside you again. It doesn’t take long for him to get back to where he was, so fucking close, mind in a haze as he still takes in your words from earlier. It takes all his willpower not to bust inside of you right now, the way you moan against his lips only edging him further.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

He pulls out, pumping himself a couple of times before he’s cumming all over your tummy, painting the tan of your skin. His face contorts in pleasure, wet strands of black hair falling against his forehead as he bites his lip. It takes him a couple of seconds to recover, holding onto your waist as he takes in the sight before him. He thinks the image of you coated in his cum could make him hard again, and if he wasn’t sure enough then, he is now. His eyes follow your every move as you bring a finger down to your stomach, running it over a white stripe before you’re bringing it to your lips, sucking on it for emphasis before you’re swallowing.

“I guess that’s an upside to no creampies. I get to taste it,” you smile, finger between your lips still.

His eyes are wide, mouth slightly agape and when he can’t form words, cock jumping at your filthy actions, he says,

“Holy fuck, give me a second.”

You laugh, bringing his face to yours, kissing him deep and slow, tongue playing with his and he just lets you.

Your next words are a whisper,

“We got all the time in the world, remember?”

Your side of the bed is empty.

It takes Jungkook a while to notice, his body struggling to fully wake up and mind begging him to turn off the irritating sound of his alarm. His arm reaches out but it’s only met with the soft fabric of his sheets. He frowns, a bit more awake now, opening his eyes slowly to make sure his sense of touch isn’t betraying him. He looks around the room, the door to his bathroom closed, everything oddly quiet with the exception of his alarm. He quietens it down, sitting up and running a hand through his messy locks. He reaches for his phone, checking up on Soori through the baby cam. The frown that dents his forehead from not waking up next to you softens the minute he takes the sight before him in. You’re in her nursery, sitting on the floor and she sits in front of you. You get her attention when you show her two dresses to pick from. She goes for a cute pink one with frills and bows at the shoulders. He scrunches his nose in endearment, leaning back into the pillows to enjoy the show a little longer. He gives himself the luxury of just looking at the two of you. The way she hands you one of her plushies and you pause on the task of getting her dressed just so you can play with her. You put on a british accent, pulling faces as you make the toy frog speak. Soori giggles, imitating you with babbles and cute faces. It feels like she does something new every day and seeing the two of you interact leaves no doubt in his mind that he’s got you to thank for it.

He feels peace as he enters the bathroom, washing his face and brushing his teeth – phone propped up on the counter, giggling when Soori’s happy shrieks come alive through the speakers. And yeah, it’s not the first time he’s thought it, but in this moment Jungkook thinks that he could get used to this. He could really get used to this.

The house is quiet around him when he steps outside of his bedroom and into the hallway. 7:15 – still early for everyone except his daughter, and you apparently. He makes his way to her nursery, sneakily peeking through the door, but the moment he steps a foot inside the room he’s got two pair of bambi eyes looking up at him.

“Look who’s up, Soo Soo,” you say, pointing at Jungkook and making Soori shriek in excitement at the sight of her dad.

Jungkook smiles as he walks to you, leaning down to place a kiss on your lips as he says, “good morning, baby.” You bring Soori up, raising her towards him and she giggles when he places a kiss on her forehead and says, “good morning, princess.”

“Say good morning, daddy,” you look at her, kissing her on the cheek and laughing when all she does is babble a string of dada’s. “That’s good enough.”

Jungkook sits in front of you, Soori in the middle and deep in debate on whose attention to get first. Jungkook wins and she crawls over to him, abruptly landing on his lap. He laughs, picking her up and peppering kisses on her plump cheeks. “Was she up really early?”

“Kinda. I was gonna let her sleep a bit more but she was fussy.”

“Could be sleep regression.”

“I love it when you talk dad to me.”

“Ha. Good, plenty more where that came from.”

You smile. “Hey, come here, missy. I still need to do your hair.”

Jungkook passes her over to you, but not before taking her back in his arms right before you’re about to catch her, her sweet laughter filling the room. “Okay, okay. Go with Nana.”

She crawls towards you, looking at her dad one last time before she’s nuzzling herself in the middle of your crossed legs, hands busy with her toys as you work on her pigtails. You have an assortment of bows in front of you, indecisive still on which ones to use. Jungkook just observes you – doesn’t miss how gentle you are with her, how she finds her spot between your legs and just stays there. He can’t remember the last time she stayed still while he did her hair.

He thinks you’re magic.

“All done,” you say, opening your hands at her side for her to take them. “Show daddy, Soo.”

She looks up at Jungkook, smiling at him and he melts at her sweet actions. “You look so stinkin’ cute, princess.” You went with the white bows, a little too big for the thin strings of hair that comes out of her pigtails but it only makes her look ten times cuter. You stand her up and she holds onto your thumbs for support, bouncing in place as Jungkook opens his hands towards her.

“Wanna go to daddy?” You’re about to hold onto her little hands to encourage her but she takes the first step all by herself. You and Jungkook look at eachother, freezing for a second and trying not to move or make any noise so as to not jinx the moment.

“Oh my God,” he whispers, and just like that, you’re letting go of her hands gently and his daughter is taking her first steps. She’s a bit confused at first but the moment she takes her second, slightly wobbly, step towards him she smiles. She’s in his arms in no time and he brings her closer, hand on her head as he kisses her face. “Good job, baby. I’m so proud of you, Soo Soo. You’re so cool, wow.”

Your hands are still over your mouth, shocked and excited all at once and you can see the way Jungkook’s eyes tear up. It’s only when you blink and it stings that you realize tears had pooled in yours, too. “Wow,” is all you can muster.

He dries his tears with the back back of his thumb, laughing and shaking his head. “Holy shit. Shit- sorry,” he says to Soori, “don’t repeat that.”

“I can’t believe that just happened.”

He looks at you, that beautiful smile you love plastered all over his face, so big it meets his eyes. “We’re both crying.”

“I know,” you laugh, and he follows, giddy and airy and you can’t seem to stop. “That was so cool.”

“I know right?” He looks at her, placing another kiss on her cheek before he’s placing her back on her feet. “Wanna go to Nana?”

“Nana!” Soori says, igniting a new set of tears to swell up at your eyes.

“Come here, baby.”

And she does, her little legs going faster than she can master yet and falling on the very last step but you catch her, an immediate smile on your face that lets her know she’s safe and she claps when Jungkook does, looking back at him and then back at you, stars in her eyes and surrounded by so much love.

“Polaroid time!” Jungkook exclaims, sitting up.

“You brought it?”

“Yeah. I was kinda hoping it would happen this weekend, but I’d lost hope, not gonna lie.”

“Daddy’s always prepared, isn’t he, Soo Soo?”

She claps again, crying for him a second after when she sees him leave the room. You keep her distracted for the minute it takes Jungkook to fetch the camera and come back into the room, another clap from her when she sees him again. You get her, that’s pretty much how you feel too. He sits back down in front of you and you reach for the camera, letting Soori go to him with her newly found walk. She’s still getting the hang of it but she’s so good at it already. You might be biased but you truly do believe she is the smartest baby ever, and moments like these simply prove your point.

You point the camera at them, Jungkook holding onto Soori as she stands up and they both smile. “Say, Soori walks now!”

“Soori walks noooooow!” It’s picture perfect. They both are. Jungkook reaches for the camera and says, “now one of the two of you.” She walks to you when you beckon her over, falling into your lap and making you both laugh as she stares confusedly at you. Jungkook hides behind the camera and says, “say, Soori’s a velcro baby!” and with that, your smile is turned into laughter, Soori following suit as she looks up at you and the flash goes off. Jungkook smiles, confident on the fact that he’s probably just taken the best picture ever.

“Let’s take one of the three of us,” you say, scooting closer to him and placing Soori between the two of you. Jungkook extends the camera in front of you and in an instant, the memory is etched in a photograph forever.

This happens a lot as a parent – a milestone becoming your favorite memory – and it only makes him look forward to the future, and that, for reasons only he understands, takes him by surprise. He looks at the pictures that you arrange in a neat line in front of you, smiling and pointing as you show Soori, who has developed a newly found interest of looking at herself in photos. Jungkook thinks about how once upon a time, he imagined having to do this all by himself. It made him dread the milestones, the excitement, because he always felt like the notion of something missing would haunt him. But so far, the milestones have been nothing but sweet. This one the sweetest thus far and it’s that word – thus far – that stirs something inside of him.

Without giving it much thought he says,

“I want to stay.”

You look at him, smiling. “Ugh, I know. I could easily live by the beach.”

“No, I mean it. I want to stay.”

“Oh–”

“You have three weeks off from book club, right?”

“Uh, yeah…”

“Then let’s stay. Just the three of us. I can take time off, too. And we could just… stay.”

“I mean– I,” you don’t know what to say, “could we?”

“Why not?”

“I didn’t bring enough clothes for three weeks.” It’s a shit excuse and the moment it leaves your mouth you both laugh.

“We can go to the nearby town and get whatever we need. I think you’ll really like it, actually. It’s very picturesque.”

“Well, I can’t say no to the beach and picturesque nearby towns…”

“Hm, I know how to get you to stay forever then.” He kisses you, long and deep and you smile against his lips when his words start to sink in. Soori taps Jungkook’s chest and whines, demanding his attention. “What’s up, baby?” She looks back at you, as if claiming you. “Ah, well, you had to learn this at some point. Today we’re gonna learn how to share-”

“Jungkook!” you shove him playfully, taking Soori into your arms and kissing her cheek. “You don’t have to share me, bubby. It’s okay.”

“Hey, I’m teaching her valuable life lessons!”

“How about you share?” you glare at him, pulling Soori closer to you.

“Tsk. No can do,” he steals another kiss, chuckles meeting your lips and you join him, his happiness contagious. Or maybe it’s your happiness that’s contagious.

It doesn’t matter, you think. Your happiness and his combined, Soori at the center of your little universe… it’s warmth. It’s pure warmth.

By the time ten a.m. rolls around, the house starts filling up with noise – little kids running around, Jimin and Taehyung bickering in the hallways over who the best superhero is, and everyone wheeling their suitcases out and about, wondering whether they’re forgetting anything and estimated time of arrivals.

Jungkook and Soori lay in the bed of the guest room you’ve been staying at, lazily playing with Soori’s toy fruit basket as Jungkook makes her plushies sit around in a circle circle and Soori feeds them. You do your makeup, get ready for the day, steal a couple of glances their way as you try and still your heart at the sight alone. You do and undo your hair a couple of times, shifting between a ponytail and letting it down. You opt for letting it down, roll your eyes when you realize you subconsciously (or very consciously) do it because it’s how Jungkook likes it best. And hey, you’re all for feminism, but can’t you just enjoy being his silly, little girlfriend for a moment? Surely you get a hall pass for being in the honeymoon stage alone.

“‘Kay, I’m all done,” you say, stepping back into the room and blushing the moment his eyes are on yours and he smirks. You’re wearing a white sundress, so very you, and he can smell the sweet scent of your perfume from where he stands. He makes a slow circle with his index finger and you roll your eyes, attitude easily dismantled the moment he says, “please” and so you give in, spinning around once as he whistles.

“Gorgeous,” he says, emphasis on the s.

“Thank you,” you sound collected, which is a partial truth. “Shall we head downstairs?”

“Let’s go, I’m starving,” he leaves the bed, taking Soori in his arms and laughing when she makes grabby hands at the floor. “I see how it is…”

“We must encourage her,” you say, taking her from him and placing her on the floor. She looks up at you, then at Jungkook, and just like that she’s sitting on the floor, a pout forming on her lips before she’s letting out a cry. “No, no, baby! We’re here!”

“Yeah, princess, look!” and she does, sniffling some as she makes grabby hands at Jungkook. He looks at you, guilt settling all over his face and fighting the urge to not pick her up. Said urge is about to win, but you’re faster than the temptation.

“Kook, she won’t want to walk… you can’t pick her up now.”

“But—,” he says, but deep down knows you’re right, “fine.”

“It’s okay, Soo. Look, we’ll hold your hands and we can all walk! Isn’t walking so much fun?”

He doesn’t know how you do it, because in an instant she’s back on her feet, one hand holding onto him and the other onto you, and the three of you are making your way down the hallway. Going down the stairs is fun, her laughter filling the air as she bounces on each step and you both swing her gently.

She doesn’t fail to get everyone’s attention and the second you three enter the living room she’s got all eyes on her, excitedly waiting for her appearance. Jungkook looks up at his friends, doesn’t miss the way they all hold their breaths as they see their niece hitting a milestone – one of many they have and will be around for.

“Good morning, everyone. Look what Soori can do,” he says, letting go of her hand and you follow. She stands there for a second, wobbly legs threatening to give out but she stands her ground, smiling at the people she loves the most in the world, all gathered in a room and gawking at her with stars in their eyes. Taehyung kneels down, clapping once and opening his arms for her, making Soori shriek in excitement and waddle towards him before falling into his arms. He’s crying, holding onto her and showering praises against her cheek in-between kisses. They all join him, gathering around her and taking turns loving on her.

“Well, I think that’s all the encouragement she needs,” you say, laughing and taking in the sweet sight before you.

Hobi picks her up, taking her into his arms and kissing her temple. “Bad day for you to be cooped up inside a car for two hours huh, baby?”

“We’re gonna stay.”

Kenny looks up at him, taking Soori from Hoseok. “Huh?”

“Yeah. The three of us are, actually.”

Everyone’s eyes are on the two of you, so naturally they don’t miss the way Jungkook’s hand wraps around yours the moment the word “us” leaves his mouth. A silence falls around the room, so dense that you’re convinced everyone can hear how loud your heart is beating, your hand gripping Jungkook’s in an attempt to ground yourself. Not that you didn’t see this moment coming, because you did, but you can’t help but admit it’s a bit nerve racking, to be perceived by all of them at once. Your eyes look for Lucy, not surprised when you see a cheeky smile plastered across her face, Jimin looking up at her in confusion.

Yoongi’s the first one to break the ice, always one to bring balance into any situation. “Well, that’s a well deserved vacation, Jungkookie. I’m happy for you.” He looks at you when he says that last sentence, offering a warm smile you don’t fail to return.

“Yeah!” Namjoon yells out, startling you. “It was about time— for your vacation, I mean.”

“Joon,” Iseul says, shoving his arm discreetly.

That’s all it takes for all of you to break into laughter, Jungkook looking at you for a second before he’s looking back at his friends. Taehyung looks at him, muttering a silent, “fucking finally,” his way and raising his hands to the sky in prayer. Jungkook rolls his eyes at him but deep down, he’s thankful for his friend and for his words of advice from the beginning.

“Well then, let’s have one last family breakfast before we have to hit the road,” Hobi says, bouncing Soori on his lap before he looks at you, “how do you take your coffee, __?”

“Um, iced americano.”

“Easy! I’ll get on it— oh, like Kookie! So, two?” Kenny asks, smiling at you, something in her eyes that you understand. A bond, perhaps, or simply more happiness combined.

“Yep. Thank you, Ken.” Jungkook smiles at her, squeezing your hand one more time before walking the two of you to the garden alongside everyone else. He leans over, whispering so only you can hear, “that went well.”

“Yeah. Yeah, it did.”

“Sorry for being blunt I just— I don’t know. I wanted them to know.”

“It was perfect,” you look at him, a sweet smile on your face and God, he wants to kiss you so bad. But as much as he wants to, he doesn’t know where you stand when it comes to PDA — so much to figure out and it feels sweet to him, the beginning stages of a relationship. Of your relationship.

You sit down next to Jimin, looking up at Jungkook who tells you he’s gonna help in the kitchen. You nod and smile when he leans down and places a tender kiss on the side of your head, blushing and feeling shy all of a sudden but the moment doesn’t linger for long.

“We can go on double dates now!” Jimin says, face nuzzled between his hands as he sighs.

You laugh. “You know, I had the same thought.”

He grows serious all of sudden, making you feel slightly anxious. “I’m happy for you guys, __. Really happy.”

You smile. “Thank you, Jimin. I’m really happy, too.”

He returns the smile for a second before it falls, leaving you confused. “Can’t believe you told Lucy first. I thought we had a real friendship going on, __!”

And while you try to reassure Jimin that you two do indeed have a real friendship going on, Mai intercepts Jungkook on his way to the kitchen, holding onto his shoulders and startling him.

“Jesus Christ, Mai.”

She stares at him for a second too long before the biggest smile forms on her face. “Eeeeeek!” she shakes him a bit, jumping up and hugging him. Jungkook laughs, wrapping his arms around her middle. “I’m so happy! Oh, you so owe me one,” she says, “but I’ll settle for a thank you. For now.”

“Thank you, Mai.”

“You’re so welcome!” she hugs him again. “I’m a really good cupid.”

“So this was your plan all along?”

“Well, no. My plan was really to find you a nanny. The fact that she was pretty, charming and sweet were all add ons with loads of potential. And I see potential where potential is due,” she winks at him, chuckling when she sees the way he blushes at her words, being taken back to very many years ago and to an eighteen year old Jungkook. She never thought she’d see it again, but boy is she glad she gets to.

“Yeah, well, thank you. I mean it. She’s… special, isn’t she?” He says, looking out the window, his eyes finding you. You can’t see him but you’re smiling, laughing as you attempt to keep up with Jimin and Jin who seem to be talking your ears off.

“Oh, no,” she says, making his head turn back towards her. “She’s more than that, Kook. She’s magic.”

And he smiles because he knows.

He really, truly knows.

In the course of five hours, Soori has not only learned how to walk, no. Soori’s a runner now. Perhaps runner is an exaggeration, yes. A fast walker a more accurate way to describe her, but you can’t help the hyperbole when she quite literally runs away from you as you attempt to get her pink converse on her left foot. The right foot was a success, distracted enough by the sunglasses she’d snatched from your head. The left one is bare and aids her into running away from what she probably deemed a boring activity. Arms up and giggles filling the air, she’s promptly stopped by Jungkook’s arms that catch her in the act.

“Are you gonna turn me into a kid’s-leash-parent, Soori Blue?”

Jungkook partly blames Jin for this, and recalls how just a couple of hours ago he took to play-pretend chasing her all over the garden, claiming “this is how my dad taught me how to walk!” and yes, perhaps he’d helped develop her confidence but now he’s made her a runaway and that’s… pretty fucking funny, if he’s honest.

Soori snatches Jungkook’s own sunglasses from over his head, confidently stating, “Nana!”

“No, baby, these are daddy’s. Let’s get your shoes on.”

“She’s a runner,” you say, passing him the cute pink converse you’d held onto since the betrayal.

“Do we need a leash? Be honest with me right now.”

You laugh. “No… Yes? I don’t know. I don’t think so. Those look so barbaric!”

“She doesn’t even have that long of legs, how is she so fast?”

“It’s the inertia,” you say, bringing your arms up and imitating her prior movements.

Jungkook ties her shoe, braving through the way she ruffles his hair, a couple of strands getting caught in his now messy locks and pulling some. He winces — she’s also become ten times more mobile in the past five hours, or so it seems. You argue that she’s simply full of adrenaline now, helping get her chubby hands away from the strands and smoothing Jungkook’s hair out in the process.

“All done and ready to go,” he says, smiling at you and then looking back at Soori, “you ready to go in the stroller? Yayyyyy, the stroller!” his saccharine voice and smile makes her clap and both of you let out a sigh of relief.

Her desire to be running out and about does make the process of getting everything — and everyone — packed into the car a bit more difficult, and she fusses a little when he straps her to her carseat, but for the most part you consider the task successful, your hands meeting in a celebratory high-five as soon as Jungkook steps inside the driver’s seat.

“Wanna play music,” he asks, handing you his phone.

You take it, smiling when you see his wallpaper — a cute picture of Soori, probably taken a couple of months back. She smiles into the camera, and it’s all you can see, half of her face covered in one of Jungkook’s beanies, a couple sizes too big for her. “I’m in a Fleetwood Mac kick lately.”

“Of course you are,” he says, backing into the driveway and stealing a glance your way, a smirk plastered on his face.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“You’re an old soul, baby. Like God made a bit of a mistake making you Gen Z.”

You gasp, and then contemplate it a bit and realize that, fair enough, he’s got a point. “You’re kinda right. I am quite old school.”

“Mhm,” he mumbles, hand coming to rest on your thigh comfortably, “but I’m glad you came into this timeline because I get to have you and your Fleetwood Mac kicks.”

You laugh, the soft chords of Silver Springs’ intro filling the enclosed space around you. “We would’ve met in another timeline, too, I think. We would’ve been so cool. We would’ve been listening to this live!”

“Yeah, and doing shrooms in a field somewhere whilst Dreams played in the background and you would’ve probably had bangs.”

“I would’ve 100% been a hippie, and you would’ve been a yuppie and so very dapper. Enemies to lovers.”

Now it’s his turn to laugh. “I wonder how that would’ve worked out.”

You feign deep contemplation for a second. “In missionary so we could keep arguing.”

“Oof. Take me back then.”

“Jeon Jungkook?”

He chuckles, squeezing the inside of your thigh. “Ah, baby, don’t worry. I’ll argue with you in missionary in all of our timelines.”

“I’m relieved,” you say, rolling your eyes dramatically but the smile that forms at your lips is one that’s too big to hide, succeeding at being flustered by your boyfriend.

The rest of the ride looks pretty much like that — Fleetwood Mac, your fingers intwined in his over your leg, and more of the flirty back and forth that seems to pull new shades of red on your cheeks every time. You make a mental prayer for the ride to last just a little bit longer, but can’t say you’re disappointed once you finally make it into the picturesque nearby town Jungkook had told you about. It is, indeed, picturesque, almost like something from another time. Restaurants lining the streets, tables lining the terraces and beautiful people adorning the very scene. Everything seems to be a paler shade of white, green and yellow, brickstone shaping most of the facades and you begin to recognize the name brands rather quickly. Gucci, Prada, Dior and the like, as well as some boutiques you haven’t heard of before that look just as expensive. But hey, you do see a Domino’s Pizza. That’s a win in your book.

You’re so enthralled by the surroundings that you don’t realize Jungkook has parked the car and is about to make his exit. A bit dumbstruck still you follow in his steps, eyes widening when you realize that this place even smells expensive. It also smells a bit like lemon sorbet and that seems to be even more shocking than the latter.

“Do they have, like, an H&M around here?”

Jungkook turns to you as he unbuckles Soori’s belt, “a what?”

“An H&M. You don’t know H&M?” Your voice a mix between indignation and shock.

“The store?”

“Yes!”

“Ah,” he nods his head, “no.”

“You don’t?”

“I mean, I do. I don’t know that I’ve seen one around here, though. Why?”

You take Soori from him as he walks to the trunk to pull out her stroller. “These are all really fancy stores… I—”

He unfolds the stroller in one swift moment, looking up at you from under his sunglasses, a black lock coming loose over his forehead. “Don’t worry about that, baby. It’s my treat, okay?”

“I can’t let you do that.” You don’t meet his eyes, sitting Soori inside the cushiony seat of her stroller and buckling her in.

“Why,” he asks, nonchalantly.

“Because. You don't have to do that. I can just wash the clothes I brought, it’s no big deal.”

“Hm,” he walks over to you, pulling you closer by the waist and placing a kiss against your cheek. “I know I don’t have to. I want to. So let me? Please?”

“Jungkook—”

“Please.”

He hits you with the puppy eyes, and you can’t believe you’re actually having this conversation with him right now. What’s worse, you can't believe you’re about to agree, unable to deal with confrontation, even if it’s this silly. “Okay but… moderation.”

He laughs. “Are you policing my expenses now?”

“No. Well, yes. Don’t I get a say?” You cross your arms, hip jutting slightly and he smirks at the attitude.

“No.” and with that, he begins to walk, pushing the stroller and turning his head to look at you and say, “you coming?”

You roll your eyes, catching up to him and circling your arm around his. “I’m not used to… gifts.”

“I know, baby. Didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable, I’m sorry.”

“No, no. It’s not uncomfortable just… weird. But not necessarily in a bad way.”

“Yeah, I get it. I do wanna treat you, though. For no other reason than just wanting to. So just enjoy it, yeah? For me?” You nod your head once, looking down at the floor but smiling. “Thank you,” he says, finding your temple and leaning his forehead against it.

“So, what first?”

He looks around, considering his options. “Miu Miu? You look like a Miu Miu girl.”

“I do?” you ponder, more to yourself than to him and this makes him chuckle.

“Yeah, let’s check it out, come on.”

And Jungkook is a very wise man because, yes. You are a Miu Miu girl. A Dior girl, too. Hell, you even dabble in some Gucci if you do say so yourself. Jungkook, in your very humble opinion, is a Prada boy, but you can’t deny your favorite is Jungkook the Calvin Klein boy. You swear you’ve never seen anyone fit into a pair of jeans so perfectly, and for this you envy him a little. A little a lot. You spend the afternoon exploring the very many options the world of high fashion has to offer. Dresses, shoes (they make expensive flip flops, to your surprise), shirts and pants and at some point, you take Jungkook’s advice and stop looking at the price tag. Advice isn’t quite the word, it’s more of a demand. You’re not suddenly unaware of the hefty splurging taking place, no, but you must admit that it makes the experience ten times better. The two of you laugh at the extravagant, odd pieces some brands sell, try on unflattering sunglasses and make a runway out of the dressing rooms. Jungkook makes you show him every single thing you try and by the third time he does it, you stop pretending to be annoyed at his boyish reactions. Your boyfriend is the biggest hypeman, making you twirl and spin and showering you in praises, making the choosing part a little harder than it’d usually be.

You don’t fall too far off, though, and quickly enough watching Jungkook try on clothes becomes your new favorite thing. Can you be blamed? He looks good in everything, can pretty much rock every style and you get to see him take off his shirt an innumerable amount of times. You have to compose yourself and make a mental effort not to gawk at him. If luck was ever in your favor, it’d be today.

Soori also reaps off the benefits of Jungkook’s little (big) shopping spree, and soon enough you find out that nothing brings him as much pleasure as shopping for her. He picks the coolest pieces, a perfect mix between girly and the tomboyish style you secretly know is his favorite. Comfy and cute in her oversized t-shirts and Carhartt baby clothes. She also gets a new pair of sneakers for her newly found hobby and tests them out by running around the store, making every sales associate swoon over her. So much so they actually whine when you three walk out the door, waving their goodbyes.

“I get it now,” you blurt out, getting Jungkook’s attention. “The whole shop ‘til you drop thing, I get it now. It’s real.”

He chuckles, throwing an arm around your shoulders and pulling you closer. “Did you enjoy it?”

“I did. Could watch you take off your shirt, like, eleven thousand more times.”

He tries to hide how flustered he is by smiling, lowering his voice when he says, “we don’t have to go shopping to do that.”

“You’re right, what a lucky girl I am.”

“Lucky? Lucky me. I should buy you eleven thousand more dresses just so I can experience this more often.”

He makes you blush, but what’s new?

“Let’s not be greedy now.”

“Oh, but you want me shirtless forever?”

“Yeah, exactly. It’s what I deserve!”

And he can’t deny you. Matter of fact, he’s about to let you know that much but something catches his eye. He stops in his tracks and makes you pause, too, confused for a second as you follow his line of vision.

Agent Provocateur.

It’s pink, fun, sexy, and indeed provocative, and that’s just going by the window display alone. This one you are slightly familiar with, having taken a couple of trips with Lucy in the past just to admire the overpriced lingerie and gasp in shock when you discovered the wonders of the ouvert panty. You sure do learn something new everyday.

“We forgot to get you underwear,” he says, a shit excuse for nonchalance lacing his tone.

“Ah, but I’m a girl. I packed underwear for, like, a month.”

“That so,” he asks, eyes still on the shop’s window.

“Yep.”

“I mean, you could never have too much underwear.”

You laugh. “I really don’t need it, Kook. It’s okay.”

“I do,” he states, looking at you with a smirk.

“Hm. Why don’t you go in and pick something out for me then? I’ll take Soori on a little walk, I think she could use it.”

“You’re giving me free will to get you anything I want inside a lingerie store?”

“Yep.”

“This is the best day of my life.”

“Go to town, baby. The world is your oyster!”

Jungkook’s off, not before laying a kiss on your lips and another on Soori’s forehead, excitedly walking towards the store and then gaining back some of his composure the moment he’s about to step inside. He’s out of sight in a matter of seconds and you laugh in disbelief. What is your life?

“Soori, you should be so glad you won’t remember this when you’re older,” you say, kneeling down in front of her and smoothing out her hair.

“Nanananana.”

“Let’s go get ice cream and walk around, yeah?”

Your suggestion is met with excited clapping from her part and just like that, you’re off on an adventure of your own. It doesn’t take you long to locate the most delectable ice cream you’ve ever laid eyes on, in the cutest shop. Everything is pastel and old school and it fits the vibe of the town so well you wonder if every single shop in this town got the memo. Domino’s pizza being the hard exception, of course. You go for the strawberry sorbet and a bit of hazelnut for balance, as recommended by the ice cream expert behind the counter. On a cone, of course. Soori’s a simple girl — chocolate and vanilla on a little cup. You find a bench, sitting the two of you down as you multitask feeding her and feeding yourself, but soon enough it all becomes pretty democratic as she takes licks from your cone and you steal spoonfuls of ice cream from her cup. Ha, and Jungkook thought she couldn’t share!

With that thought alone you invoke him, jumping a bit when he appears seemingly out of nowhere. Your facial expressions take turns, to say the least. From fright, to surprise, to happiness, to shock, to fright again. He smiles— no. He smirks. He smirks, knowingly, deviously, even as he leans down and takes a bite out of the chocolate ice cream you’d scooped up for Soori. Your eyes fixate on him, eyes narrowing before they land on the multiple pink shopping bags he holds in one hand.

“Did you buy underwear for a whole village?”

He throws his head back in laughter. “You’d hate that, actually.”

“Correct,” you pause for emphasis, “Jungkook, what the heck?”

“What? They had a good sale going on.”

“Really?”

“Nope.”

“Oh, God.”

“Jeez, can’t I just treat my girl to sexy lingerie?”

You raise a menacing eyebrow at him. “Just me?”

“It’s a win-win, baby. It’s a win-win.”

You smile, unable to deny him as much as he’s unable to deny you. “Can I see?”

He brings the bags closer to his chest and gasps, feigning shock. “These are for my eyes only.”

“Fair enough.”

“You’ll like them, though,” he winks. “I’m starving.”

“I have an idea!”

“Do tell.”

“Let’s go home, I’ll buy us Domino’s Pizza and we can watch a movie, my treat.”

“You’re spoiling me now.”

“Ah, what can I say,” you say, standing up and taking Soori into your arms, her chocolate covered cheeks forming a smile on her face. “I like to share my riches.”

“I’m rich,” he walks closer to you, hand wrapping around your waist, pulling you closer.

You huff, “trust me, we know.”

“Not like that,” he looks at you, arm tightening around you until your feet are hovering above the floor a bit, pulling smiles out of you like it’s easy and that’s the thing, it is easy because it’s him. “Like this,” he says, emphasizing his point with a kiss to your lips, letting you know that he means it.

No doubt in the world that he does.

When you first fell in love with writing, it wasn’t much for the idea of storytelling. Instead, that very first spark that turned an interest into a passion came from the purpose of safe keeping memories. If you could keep a moment safe by the immortality of your words, you thought, the inevitability of time could be avoided. Or well, it would make it all worth it, at least, like you lived for a reason. Everything you experienced — whether it was pain, happiness, worry, surprise — it would all come to an end eventually, but your words would remain, etched in time for the sole purpose of proving that it happened. That you were there, alive and feeling and that it was all worth it because your words could now live forever.

You sit on the couch, the living room lights dim, perfectly complementing the atmosphere as the rain falls in incessant showers outside the tall windows. The sound is comforting, a candle burning and the notion of the ocean at such close proximity easing you all over. You can still smell it, you think, mixed with the rain and him.

Him, him, him.

You smell him on your skin, your hair. You smell him on the hoodie you’d stolen from his closet, the one he’d worn today and discarded before getting in the shower. The scent triggers the muscle memory in your heart and you think of him, a smile escaping you before you can fully make up his face in your mind. The warmth takes up every inch of you and it reminds you of his touch, his arms around you, the sun and the fire and the love you have for him.

You stop writing, too distracted to string words together now that the thought of him has turned so physical, affecting your ability to do much more than simply think about him. You place your pen in the middle of your journal’s spine, marking the page as you feather through your previous entries. Five days. You’ve been together for five days, four spent in the peace of your little universe. You, him and Soori. And to your luck, and the luck of immortalized moments, you’ve used your words to make sure this memory never leaves you.

You skim through the pages, smiling when a sentence catches your eye, struggling a bit to understand your own handwriting.

“It’s early — way too early, and I’m struggling to stay awake. I wish I could go back to sleep, but then again he’s next to me and I can see him, really truly see him when nothing gets in the way of his beauty, when he’s so still I have no choice but to stare, to take him in, to let his face sink into my memory until all I can feel is love. Until his face is stripped of features, no eyes, no nose, no mouth, just love. My love. He’s the sun rising and I’m the need to stop and stare.”

The weight of your words is overwhelming, a blush creeping up your cheeks and you can feel the way your heart feels warm. You turn a page, laughing at the universal balance of your feelings when you read,

“Jungkook grilled today and I ate three burgers. We made milkshakes for dinner when Soori was asleep because neither of us has the heart to not share with her but Jungkook’s scared of sugar rushes.”

But, oh, what a privilege it is to live an ordinary life with extraordinary people. What a feeling, to experience it all.

“I sit by the sun, can feel the sand through the towel under me and my body’s still salty and wet from swimming. I hear the sound of the ocean and Jungkook turning the page of a book. I hear how still he is while reading my copy of The Great Gatsby. Soori naps in-between us and I can hear her soft breathing. I write this because I don’t want to forget it.”

A wave of nostalgia takes over you, like you’re already missing it though it hasn’t fully gone away yet. Your next words ignite a different feeling in you, flushing your chest and sending that original warmth that’d settled on a steady route someplace else.

“I feel his fingers long after they’ve been on me. My body is exhausted but my mind alert, the stars on my skin he’s left are now mine to safekeep and the way the memory lingers keeps me awake. I’ve never made love before, it feels foreign to me. Are we making love? How would I know? I can’t think of the formalities of much when he fucks me. I can’t put a name to it, only his and whatever his eyes on me makes me feel in that moment. I’m yet to decipher it, though, his eyes on me. More so, what I feel. It makes me want to live inside myself, though I don’t think that makes much sense. It makes me wish I had more control over my body, my thoughts, my feelings, so I could focus on multiple things at once and figure me out. Me when he’s on me, me when he owns me like this, and perhaps his eyes perceive this better. Perhaps I could find it in seeing what he sees when he looks down at me, like that. Like him.”

“Why aren’t you in bed, baby?”

His voice startles you, takes you a while to register it fully, your first instinct to close your journal a bit too abruptly for what it entails. You look up at him, smile when you take him in, your hands itching to touch him, to hold him. His hair’s still wet from the shower, a bit messy, and longer now than when you first met him. You like it like that, you think. In a soft white shirt and gray pants, he looks so soft as he walks inside the living room, hovering by the wall for a second before leaning into it.

“I was writing, the rain looks nice from the tall windows.”

He smiles. “We’ll open the blinds upstairs, come on. Wanna watch a movie?”

You nod, uncrossing your legs and holding onto your journal before making your way to him. “What did you have in mind?”

“Lord Of The Rings,” he gives you a toothy grin, pulling you to him as soon as you’re close enough to and you can’t help but bring your lips to his.

“Never took you for a nerd. I like it.”

“To be honest, I never know what’s going on, I’m just drawn in by the landscapes.”

“Lucy and I watched it once,” you say, pinching your thumb and index finger, pretending to smoke, “under the influence.”

The picture alone makes him chuckle. “Never took you for much of a stoner.”

“Oh, God, I’m not. I ate a subway and a bag of hot cheetos and passed out fifteen minutes into the movie.”

“Damn, baby, that’s weak. Even for you.”

You gasp. “As my boss, you should be delighted by this information.”

“Mm,” he kisses you, “not your boss right now. Actually, not your boss ever. Soori’s your boss.”

“She’s so demanding.”

“I know, right? Will only eat fruit if it’s star shaped now. Wonder whose fault that is…”

“When I get my hands on her…,” you narrow your eyes, shake your head.

“Hey. Easy on my girlfriend right there.”

“That still sounds a bit surreal.”

“What? Me calling you my girlfriend?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, get used to it.”

“Never. It’s funner this way.”

He doesn’t refute your point, secretly agrees with it, still a bit in awe of the word itself. The title. What it entails, what it means, what he gets in exchange of it. Not in an opportunistic way, but simply in letting himself enjoy this new role, surprised at how comfortable he feels in it, how at ease.

The two of you make your way upstairs, checking on Soori one last time before heading to the bedroom. The bed looks inviting, fluffy duvet begging for you to be inside of it on this rainy night. Lights dim and soft linen smells, the sound of the rain hitting the window as Jungkook opens the blinds and you get in bed, making yourself comfortable and letting your body melt into the mountain of pillows he insists on keeping. He joins you soon after, sighing as he sinks into them, too, remote control in one hand as he extends his other in invitation. You fall into him, letting him wrap his arm around you as you rest your head on his chest, legs finding his under the covers until your body is laced in his. He makes quick work of finding the movie, falling deeper into the comfort of the bed and bringing you closer to him as the beginning credits roll in, landscapes following and he’s right, it’s captivating enough.

“Wanna go there someday,” you say softly, voicing your thoughts.

“You remember the deal we closed a couple of weeks ago?”

“Yeah, I remember.”

“It’s basically land… vast, immense land that looks just like this. I’m building a hotel there.”

You look up at him, “really?”

“Yeah. I’m excited about it. It’s kinda different from the locations we often go for… it feels new, I think it’s gonna work, though.”

“I have no doubts whatsoever,” you tell him, face nuzzling in the soft fabric of his t-shirt before you say, “I’m proud of you.”

He rests a soft kiss on your head, hand gently running down your arm as he murmurs a quiet, “thank you,” against your hair. Soon enough you’re both completely enraptured by the movie, and to your surprise, by the plot, too. Once in a while you steal small glances of him, endeared by his big, shiny eyes in full focus, pink lips slightly agape. Your hands run lazy circles around his chest, and you do it enough so as to lose conscience of it, affection turning into reflex.

Your touch soothes him, so much so he stops acknowledging it and it simply runs a wave of relaxation down his body, shoulders dropping a bit, body sinking further into the pillows, head falling to the side. You’re warm against his body and he likes it, he likes being able to feel every inch of you on him like this. The movie has most of his attention, but said attention begins to shift focus, unbeknownst to him, like his body has a mind of its own. He thinks it’s an innocent little pull at first, inevitable, if you will. He tries to go back to the movie, eyes fixated on the screen, his brain’s full function on the scenes, but it’s to no avail. He’s now (well too) aware of the way your fingers trace patterns on his chest, the way your leg rests on top of his. The way you smell, the way your tits press into his side as you shift a bit. You exist, next to him, and his reaction is but the collateral damage.

He begins to shift in place, hand running through his hair as he makes more of a mental effort to quiet down his body and the effect you, very innocently, have on him. He does this for long enough so as to make you notice, frowning against his chest when he sighs.

“Are you okay,” you ask, looking up at him, “are you uncomfortable? I can move-”

“No, no, no,” he says, voice a bit frenzied, taking you aback even more. “It’s not that, baby, come back.”

You rest against him once again. “Is something bothering you, though? You feel tense,” and when you say this, you run your hand down his arm, nails scraping a bit, and Jungkook lets out a long breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“No, none of that, don’t worry.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” he says, feeling shy all of a sudden, color creeping into his cheeks, “it’s just…”

“What?”

He grows quiet for a second, hand holding onto yours before he starts to guide it down his torso, and you’re almost confused for a second until it gets lost inside the warmth of the duvet. Jungkook rests your hand on top of his cock, over his sweatpants, and you can feel how hard he is. He whimpers softly over your head when you reflexively close your hand around him, feeling the whole weight of his arousal. You look up at him, half-lidded eyes and parted lips, his head leaning back against the pillows as you bring your lips to his neck, kissing once before you whisper a little, “oh,” into his skin.

“Couldn’t help it,” he says coyly, and you can hear the smile in his voice.

“Why would you try to help it?” your lips still pepper open-mouthed kisses all over his warm flesh.

“Dunno,” he shrugs, a whimper that ends in a moan following and he sounds so sweet.

So sweet, you think. Something about him, about his demeanor right now, docile in your hands, soft-spoken words and little noises as your lips on his skin begin to have an effect on him. You can feel it in the palm of your hand, in the way his hips buck a little with each suckle, silently begging for more but not in any particular rush.

“Want me to touch you?” you look up at him, at the way his eyes open, still half-lidded and hazy as he nods. Your hand squeezes his length, “here?”

“Yeah, I’d like that— please.”

That word feels like a silent agreement. A nod in the direction he knows you’re eager to take and you waste no time in rewarding him for letting you, for allowing you to take the reigns, for letting you give him pleasure as you please.

Your hands travel under his sweatpants, lips forming a smile when you realize he’d forgone underwear, cock warm against your small hand as you wrap around it. Jungkook hisses, a whine getting caught in his throat as your thumb circles around his crown, collecting the precum and easing him into the feeling. Your pace is slow, eyes fixated on his cock — on the way his slit leaks when your finger grazes over it, the way he jumps a bit in your hand, so overstimulated already. The noises he makes, sometimes muffled as his face presses against your hair, failed attempts at keeping composure. He tries his best not to fuck his cock into your hand, you can tell by the way his tummy sinks every now and then, hands gripping at the sheets. And when he can’t take the torturous pace you set, so determined on giving the most sensitive part of his cock what begins to feel like an overwhelming amount of pleasure, his hand gently closes around yours, stalling your movements.

“Please, __— fuck,” his words are a bit frantic, a moan getting caught between them.

“What’s wrong, Kook?” you feign ignorance, but he’s in no position to give you a hard time for it.

“Stroke it, baby, please.”

He sounds so fucked out already, shaky fingers closing around your hand once again and you know he’s fighting internal battles not to guide your movements, to take you where he wants you — how he wants you.

“It felt like you were so close, though…”

“Not like this,” his words find him faster than you’d expect, given his state, “don’t wanna cum like this.”

You kiss his cheek, smiling when his face moves closer to yours until you’re kissing the corner of his mouth and his eyes are closing as you finally move your hand, slowly stroking his cock, touch so gentle it makes him sigh. He’s so perfect the need to tell him so becomes too painful to bear.

“You’re doing so good, Kook. My perfect boy.”

Under any other circumstance Jungkook would pause at your words — not necessarily to second guess them, no, but to process them. To see what they do to him, to what extent they deliver pleasure, all things considered, things being the fact that, well, he’s not a sub. He’s not usually the one melting into praise and dominance so, yeah, under any other circumstance Jungkook would pause. Right now, though, all he can focus on is the way your hand feels so warm and tight around his cock, how it glides so seamlessly because he’s so turned on he’s basically lubricated himself, and how you’re enjoying his reaction to you so much you think he’s perfect.

Perhaps under no circumstance would he need to pause to know that he enjoys it. More than he ever thought he would.

“I feel so good right now,” he tempts, head sinking into the pillows as you up your pace a bit.

“It feels good… to make you feel good,” your wrist twists around him, giving him all the attention he craves, from base to tip and then tighter at the upturn. “To see you be this good,” he whimpers softly at your praise, “you sound so beautiful.”

Jungkook’s chest tightens, your words resounding in places he didn’t know could echo words, sounds — the sound of your breathing, your own moans. Your pace picks up and you rejoice in the way he reacts to your touch. His brows knit together, eyelashes kissing his cheeks and all he can think of is you, almost as if he had you far away and had to rely on memory. Opening his eyes, heavy lids looking down at you as he leans his head to the side, his breathing picking up as he pants.

Your hand leaves him for only a second but it’s enough to make him hold his breath, eyes following your every move as you bring it up to your face and lick a thick stripe down the palm of your hand. His cock throbs when it wraps around it again and he sighs, so close to the edge he can only hope you’ll play fair.

Your free hand sneaks under him a bit awkwardly, tapping on his leg to silently let him know what you want. His hips raise as he helps you move his sweatpants down, the waistband now hugging his ass as you free him completely. His cock is red and angry, still leaking for you as your hand begins to move faster, thumb and index finger playing with his head at the end of each push and pull.

“I’m so close, __,” words soft, a staccato whisper that’s for you only and your name on his lips sounds sugary, like it drips off his tongue.

You think, a bit selfishly, about playing with him for just a little longer. Putty in your hands and so very yours that you almost don’t want to let him go — to let him let go, but you can’t deny him. Not when he’s been so good. Not when you have all the time in the world to explore, to play.

“Yeah? Tell me, baby, what else do you want?”

“Play with my balls,” voice still a plead, no demand in it, a bit of a tilt at the end.

You comply, hand traveling south before you gently roll his balls in your hand, tugging slightly and making him wince, a loud, throaty moan finding him soon after. You look into his face again, a sight to behold, so lost in his own pleasure you think he doesn’t fully hear you when you tell him to kiss you. He proves you wrong, though, lips crashing onto yours as you swallow his pleasure, tongue on his as both your breaths grow heady.

“God— fuck.” his hand finds yours again, not hesitating before he’s wrapping it back around his cock, stroking once, twice, and setting the pace for you before his own is coming up to your face, fingers gently grabbing your chin and making you look at him. “I’m gonna cum.”

“Cum for me, Jungkook. Please.”

He nods, brows knitted in a frown as he gets so very close, eyes on yours and fighting to keep them open. You feel the way his cock kicks in your hand as you jerk him fast, bottom lip getting caught between your teeth. He grows quiet, a little tense under you and when his lips part in a silent moan, eyes shutting close, he cums, hard — thick hot shots landing on his tummy and coating your hand as you bring him down.

He chuckles a little, feeling a bit delirious as your fingers play with the mess you’d both left on his stomach, cock jumping at the mere sensation of your touch on his taut skin, making him hiss and look down. It turns him on a little more than his body can take right now and he opts for closing his eyes, sighing as he sinks his head back into the pillows.

“That was so good,” he says, voice soft and full of bliss.

“Mhm.”

You kiss his cheek once more before your warmth is leaving him, making him frown as he’s about to ask where you’re going. He opens his eyes, sees you reaching for the night table and when you turn around you’re holding onto a handful of tissues.

You clean him up, and he lets you, his soft gaze following your movements. It feels intimate, the way you do it in silence, your face expressionless but something in your eyes that’s easy for him to read. You tuck him back in his pants, laughing a little when the feeling of the fabric against his sensitive skin makes him gasp, muttering a little, “sorry” his way. When you kneel on the mattress to leave his side, he pulls you by the arm, whining a little.

“I’ll just go throw these in the trash,” you say.

“Okay. Thank you, baby.”

You take a minute — makes Jungkook a little antsy for reasons he can’t understand. He hears the faucet go off, hears you wander about the bathroom, giving him enough time to sit with his thoughts. It’s not anxiety —well, it is. It’s not bad, though. It’s more so unfamiliar, to let someone take care of him like this, so lovingly for no other reason than the desire that pulls you to want to love him. To dote on him. It makes his heart contract inside his chest, missing a couple of beats that recover a bit too quickly when he sees you make your way to him.

He’d been lost in thought, making you smile.

“Whatcha thinking about?”

“That we haven’t kissed in a while.”

You roll your eyes, but it’s playful and shy, one of his favorite things about you. Your knee hits the bed, crawling towards him and he smiles, growing giddy in anticipation. You find a home over him, knees straddling both sides of his body as you rest on his tummy, careful not to touch any further down as you know he’s still sensitive.

“Wanna kiss me?”

It’s back, he thinks. That tone you held before, when you were in control of him and his pleasure. No time to pause now either. He nods.

“Yeah, wanna kiss you so bad, baby.”

He welcomes your lips on his, slow and tender, giving him time to savor the pillowy softness of them. The way you taste, the way you sound — a little worked up, tiny whimpers leaving you — has him convincing himself that he could never get too much of this. Never get too much of you. The way your tongue moves on his has him sighing against your lips, mind elsewhere and all he can take in right now is you. You and how you kiss him. You and how much he wants you already. How much he needs you.

He moans against your lips, hands coming up to hold onto your hips as he pushes them further away until your cunt sits perfectly on top of his dick. You both sigh.

“You’re hard,” you point out, not fully breaking the kiss.

“Yeah. Been hard since you straddled me,” he laughs.

“Thought you’d be spent, you came so hard just now.”

He shakes his head, looking up at you, “want you, baby.”

You grind your hips against his, moaning when the head of his cock grazes your clothed clit. “I want it like this.”

“Yeah— okay,” he gives, kissing you again as he guides your hips the way he knows feels good, aided by the noises his mouth swallows as you moan into his lips.

You don’t stop when you come up, fully sitting on his cock and making him wish there was less layers between you two. When he looks down he sees the wet patch over the gray fabric of his sweatpants, unsure whether it’d been you or him but turned on by it none the less. He moans at the sight, at the feeling, at the way you look so pretty with your cheeks flushed and your eyes closed, lips parting to moan his name.

Your hair falls to one side, pretty neck glistening with sweat and he wants to kiss it so bad. He holds his breath as your fingers toy with the hem of the sweatshirt you’d stolen before, promptly pulling it off your body. His eyes widen, lips slightly parted before they’re forming a smirk when you reveal what’s underneath — the result of his little shopping spree a couple of days back. Tonight you’d opted for a lacy, red babydoll and matching panties. The fabric so sheer it barely covered anything, making Jungkook consider himself a very lucky man right that second.

His hand travels up, palm cupping your breast and thumb caressing your nipple, making you whimper at the feel of his finger through the fabric, a new sensation. Your hips move quicker, hand coming to rest on top of his to encourage his touch, the added stimulation landing right on your lower tummy, making your pussy clench around nothing, clit throbbing with every push and pull of your hips.

“I’m so close, Kook,” you pant, back arching as you find the perfect pace.

“Use me, __. Use me to cum,” he gives, lips getting caught between his teeth so hard he’s afraid he’s gonna draw blood. “Fuck, you look so hot, baby.”

You like the two tones his voice takes at his command and praise, the way he’s still perfect in that pliant way but also gives you what your body secretly loves the most. When you cum, it almost feels painful, in that sweet way that finds you when you’re so overwhelmed by the feeling. Your hands crash on his chest, hair falling at the sides of your face before he’s gently pushing it away so he can watch you.

The air around you shifts just as fast as the switch inside Jungkook turns.

You’re still catching your breath, so receptive to his every touch that you moan when you feel his cock throb between your legs. He holds onto your face, making you look at him.

“You did so good, __. Came so good and pretty for me.”

There’s a voice inside your head that tells you to take back control, to bite back and tell him that he was the one being good for you. But your body’s both too spent and too needy for your mind to get cocky right now and deprive it from what it needs the most.

You nod your head, a little dumbly, at him. He thinks it’s cute.

He’s pushing his sweatpants back down, legs fully pulling them off his body before his finger hooks down the side of your panties, slowly moving south until his knuckle is grazing over your clit.

“So wet. So messy.” the pads of his index and middle finger circle your clit, making you whimper as you rock your hips and follow his movements. He pulls his touch away abruptly, pushing your panties to the side before his hand leaves you completely and comes to rest behind his head. “Ride me, __.”

You’re wet enough to brave it, coming up on shaky knees and lining yourself over him. He grabs the base with his free hand, helping you a little and releasing the moment you start sinking into him. He doesn’t miss the way you whimper, eyes closing at the feeling of him stretching you. It burns a bit but you’ve come to find pleasure in the pain, bottoming out as you both moan when he’s fully sheathed inside of you.

“So big, Koo,” you cry out, and his heart beats particularly soft at your use of the pet name. It almost makes him lose focus, almost makes him fall back into the prior dynamic, a little too worked up from it still. He reckons it’s probably what’s powering his demeanor right now.

“Yeah,” he sounds, and you don’t miss the way his voice takes on a cocky tilt. “Move, then. Wanna see you bounce on this big cock.”

“Yeah— okay, fuck,” because it feels so good. It feels so good as you jump on him, as he fills you up to the brim and hits your sweetest spots when you bury him all the way inside of you. It feels so good when it all gets to be too much and you have to slow down your pace, grinding against his hips, making him say your name as he hits every inch of you like this.

You resume your pace, tits moving with each motion against his hips and he can’t take his eyes off of them – off of you. So fucking beautiful as you move over him, giving him what he wants.

“Good fucking girl,” he praises, voice a bit rough from the way the pleasure consumes him.

“That feels so good. Wanna fuck you– wanna fuck you forever, Jungkook.”

Your words are strangled and he can see how much effort it takes to actually string them together, so very affected by him and the way it feels when he starts moving his hips against yours, fucking you back.

“You can fuck me forever, baby.”

“Oh my God, I’m so— so close.”

The cry you let out when his hands grab at your hips, pausing your movements, surprises the both of you. You look down at him, glaring when your orgasm goes away, the pleasure taking on a painful nature as your pussy throbs around his cock.

“Fuck. Why—”

“Want to play with you a bit more, baby. You can take it. You can be patient, can you not?” It’s in your best interest to agree so you nod, frantic eyes looking into his. “Good. Now lose the attitude. I’m gonna make you cum so good, promise, yeah?”

“Y-yeah.”

He holds onto your waist, manhandling you so swiftly you barely register just how he managed to get you on your back in a matter of seconds. He hovers above you, thighs between your legs as he runs a hand through his damp locks and scans his eyes over your figure.

Jungkook can’t figure out if he wants you fully naked, looking up at him or face down, pressed against the mattress. He doesn’t know if he wants to fuck you hard or take more time with you. He doesn’t know if he wants to tease you or have you coming undone again —and if it’s the latter, does he want it on his tongue or around his cock?

Decisions, decisions…

He wraps a hand around his cock, sighing at the much needed attention, smiling when you raise your hips a bit involuntarily in his direction. You make his decision for him, huffing a bit when you see the way he takes one step back away from you. He takes his shirt off before running his hands down your legs, his touch soft but his eyes dark, like he’s plotting.

“Kookie,” you say, dreamily, ulterior motives lacing your voice, “fuck me, please.”

“Not yet, wanna taste you first.”

He raises your legs, keeping them straight before him as he rolls your panties down your thighs and off your feet, throwing them to the side. You bend them once they’re off, resting them against his shoulder.

“I’m too sensitive,” you tell him, and something in your voice tells him you’re faking it.

“That so, baby?”

“Mhm.”

“I’ll be gentle.”

“But I want you to fuck me— now.”

Jungkook holds onto your legs, one hand on each calf before he’s bringing them down, resting them against the mattress a bit abruptly and making them fall open for him.

“Quit being a brat or I won’t fuck you at all.”

He doesn’t let you answer — not like you’d try, you’ve got too much to lose — finding his place between your legs as he lays down on his tummy. Your pussy’s swollen and red, hole leaking for him and clenching around nothing. He coos, which you’d tease him for if the reaction wasn’t sending a jolt of pleasure down your body, something filthy about it lacing the act.

“Love your little pussy, baby,” he observes, more to him than to you, marking emphasis in his words by running a finger from your opening all the way to your clit.

“Please.”

And he can’t deny you. Not when your cunt looks so enticing, when you react to him and he can see it, feel it around his fingers as he pushes his middle one inside of you. You arch your back at the intrusion, a moan passing your lips when his own close around your clit, sucking hard on it in rhythmic little pulses. It doesn’t take him long enough to send you right back to where he’d taken you from just a couple of moments ago, tummy tensing at the threat of your pleasure reaching its peak.

“I’m gonna— I’m gonna cum if you keep doing that,” you warn him, so obedient it nearly makes him swoon.

He removes his mouth from you, replacing it with his thumb as it draws tight circles against your clit, a bit slower so as to save him time.

“Yeah, baby, you can cum. What do you want me to do? Tell me.”

“Can you— please, lick my clit.”

His index and middle finger form a V, opening your folds up to him before his tongue comes out to lap at your clit — quick kitten licks that have your hands reaching down to him, fingers holding onto his hair so as to ground yourself but it’s to no avail.

“Fuck— like that. God, I’m gonna cum.”

It’s blinding, almost. The way it feels, the way your body shakes as you come undone on his tongue. The way he sucks on your clit, prolonging your orgasm, moaning against it when you pull on his hair. The sound his mouth makes when he cleans every drop, chin glistening with your orgasm — it all adds to the sensation, effectively fucked out.

You pull him up, with little force, until he’s falling back on top of you. You kiss him, a bit deliriously, tasting yourself on his tongue and moaning at the remnants of your high. You push your legs further apart, helping him fall into you, feet on his ass as you bring him closer to you. He sinks his cock into your pussy, moaning at how tight and warm you feel, still pulsing from your last orgasm.

You’re both a bit more quiet this time around, throaty breaths and pants passing your lips as you find endless places to kiss. Down his neck, on your shoulder and the palm of his hand when he cups your cheek. You sigh when you finally find his lips. They only part when he throbs inside of you, pussy so sensitive you can feel just how close he is. You lose him for a second and when you open your eyes, you see his own fixated on the TV, fighting to stay open.

“In missionary so he can keep watching Lord of the Rings,” you tease.

He looks back down at you, strangling out a laugh that shortly gets caught in a little whine of pleasure.

“Shut up,” he breathes out, kissing you once again. “Fuck— I’m so close, baby.”

“I can feel it.”

“Yeah?”

You hum, bringing his face closer to you, kissing him and egging him on with sweet, little praises.

He stills on top of you, pink lips parting in a silent moan before he says, “I’m gonna fucking cum,” pulling out just in time to paint your lower tummy in white, cum dripping down your pussy a little too recklessly to what he’d normally agree to but fuck, he feels drunk right now and the sight is heavenly.

You laugh.

“Reconsidering?”

“Yeah,” he answers honestly, with half a brain for anything let alone to lie.

“Oh, wow,” you say, “love being your girlfriend already.”

He laughs, shaking his head before he’s pressing a kiss against your lips.

“Me too, baby. Me too.”

AAAAAAAAAA. sorry for teasing you guys so hard, i didn’t want to give anything away so i had to lie A LITTLE (or well, refrain from the truth lmaooo). also sorry to the team mingyus, u probably thought the thing about the smut not being about jaykay meant it was with HIM, but i just didnt wanna spoil it!!!!!! anyways. i love you. and like always, thank u for reading. it means more to me than you’ll ever know <3

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jeonggukookies · 10 months ago

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chapter index; too young

you meet jungkook, a single parent who keeps forgetting to pick up his daughter from school. Jungkook, a busy and somewhat oblivious individual, has to prove he is a good parent as you lend a helping hand to help him navigate the challenges and joyful experiences of parenthood.

Finding joy together through the shared moments, the both of you must learn what truly matters to you as an individual and as a parent before the chaos within familial relationships and personal insecurities destroys everything you guys had built.

pairing | jeon jungkook x reader

genre | parent!au, single dad!jungkook angst, fluff short story

wordcount | 21,949

↳ 1 || 2 || 3 || 4 || 5 || 6 || 7 || 8 [completed]

a/n: i will admit that i wrote this when i was super young but i loved writing so excuse my attempts of being funny and cringe.

#bangtanwriters-net #jeon jungkook #bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook scenarios #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #bts fanfic #jungkook fanfic #too young #jungkook dad au #mine

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luvismenu · 2 months ago

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⋆˚࿔ dilf!jungkook 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ smau ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ! nsfw !

mlist — pt.2

♡ — permanent taglist: @wnteraezz @ari420sstuff @blaricee @blluee28 @jkvias @jksctrl @letmekookk @whoa-jo @wobblewobble822 @jkslvsnella @clxssy1997 @nikkinikj @kayleesaltzmann @rrosiitas @naurnonope @lola75111 @somehowukook @redcherrykook @parkinglot-nights @deluluisdasolulu @minghaosimp @hyeon-yi @ririkookiemonster @svtrighthereworld @jmscaffeine @trinityxsope @taetaecatboy @butnotmontana

#jeon jungkook #jungkook smau #smau #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #bts smau #bts jungkook #fake texts #bts social media au #jungkook texts #dilf jungkook #dad jungkook

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bangtanficsforyou · 15 days ago

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Angel in the Hallways (JJK)- Fic Announcement

Pairing: Dilf! Single dad Jungkook x Reader

Genre: you know the drill, it's smut 😼. Jungkook is the definition of "angel in the streets, devil in the sheets", hence the name 🤭

Rating: 18+

Summary: you were pleasantly surprised to discover that your new neighbour is an adorable five year old girl and her father. You were however, very unprepared to discover just how much of a charmer her father turned out to be.

Word count: no clue.

Warning: or^l (f receiving), ti^^y sucking, fing^^^ng, p in v s^x, d^^ty talk if it counts, protected sex, loads of teasing, Jungkook has a mouth on him, they are desperate like teenagers feel free to judge them, more to be added on e I complete writing it

this is a part of the exclusive smut drabbles for the $8 tier on my patreon!

A/N: the next part of hello, love is already up on my Patreon. I uploaded it like a few days back, and will shortly upload the link on my Tumblr soon. That being said, final year is hectic y'all 😩.

on a different note, I'm working on "out of the woods pt 2" + "burning love" so hehe 😀❤️

but most importantly, I LOVE YOU ALL for the support you have given me on Patreon. It's like a dream, honestly 🥺.

#jungkook x reader #Jungkook smut #Jungkook fluff #Jungkook au #Jungkook scenarios #Jungkook ff #Jungkook pwp #jungkook oneshot #Jungkook drabble #Dilf Jungkook #Single dad Jungkook #Fic: AITH

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andi-kook · 6 months ago

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HOPELESSLY CAPTIVATED (01) ✦ Jungkook

SUMMARY: A series of drabbles featuring you, a twenty-five year-old high school Literature teacher living on the same floor as Jeon Jungkook, a thirty-one year-old single dad and filmmaker living with his eleven-year-old daughter Yuki, and your encounters that leads the both of you to be hopelessly captivated with each other. Based on Niki’s Take A Chance With Me.

DRABBLE 01: A panicked Jeon Jungkook knocks on your door for help.

PAIRING: Jungkook x Fem!Reader

GENRE: Angst, Fluff, Slice of Life, Single Dad AU, Age Gap AU

WARNINGS: Suitable for all ages. No specific warnings for this drabble. Dad!Jungkook, maybe? Oh, and talks of menstrual period and allusion to complicated family relationships. Not proofread!

WORD COUNT: 1.7K

Your peaceful Sunday afternoon consisting of catching up on the episodes of your comfort series while eating your comfort food with a bottle of cola on the side is interrupted by a set of knocks on your door. Your eyebrows meet in confusion, not expecting anyone to come over nor did you have any deliveries. And even if you are expecting someone, they would have to use the intercom before the security lets them in. So, while you’re walking down to answer the door, you can only deduce that whoever is knocking on your door must be a neighbor. Your theory is proven correct when you open the door, and you see Jeon Jungkook – or should you say Mr. Jeon Jungkook – standing on the other side with an apologetic smile plastered on his lips and his eyes wide and panicked.

“Y/N, hi, I’m so sorry for bothering you. I just really need your help,” Jungkook states immediately, rubbing his palms against his loose black pants.

“It’s okay, Mr. Jeon. What is it?” You ask politely, placing your hand on the door.

“It’s Yuki. She’s-She’s calling for you. I think she’s gotten her period and is terrified,” Jungkook explains, biting his lower lip as his chest rises and falls heavily. He’s clearly concerned and worried.

You perk up, recognizing the seriousness of the situation. “Okay. Yeah, that can be terrifying. I have some pads she can use – they serve the same purpose regardless of age, don’t worry. I’ll just grab them and meet you at your apartment?”

A look of relief washes over his face. “Thank you, Y/N, seriously. This means a lot.”

“It’s no problem, Mr. Jeon,” You reply.

You make your way to your room and grab the unopened napkin from your shelf before making your way to the Jeons’ apartment three units across from yours. You knock, as a sign of respect, and Jungkook immediately answers the door and leads you to the bathroom. Your apartment’s floorplan is slightly different, you notice. His is clearly more spacious than your studio-type.

“She doesn’t want me anywhere near her, but if there is anything I can do to help, please let me know. I’ll be right down the hall,” Jungkook tells you softly to which you nod.

You wait until Jungkook is at the end of the hall before you softly knock on the door. “Yuki? Hi, it’s Y/N from Apartment 609. Your dad says you called for me. Is everything okay?”

You hear sniffing on the other side and your heart breaks just a little. Children crying are always a weakness of yours. “Y-Y/N? Is that really you?”

“Yes, Yuki, it’s really me. Can you tell me if you’re okay?”

“No, I’m not,” Yuki replies honestly. “I-I don’t know what to do!” She begins to cry again.

From your peripheral vision, you see Jungkook about to walk but you put up your hand to stop him, shaking your head. “It’s okay, Yuki. I was like that too when I first got my period. I was clueless on what to do.”

“I-I’m scared.”

You nod even though she doesn’t see you. “It’s alright to be scared of something you haven’t experienced or seen before, Yuki. If you let me, I can help you be a little less scared of it.”

It’s quiet for a moment then you hear the soft click of the door unlocking. The door opens slightly, and you take this as a sign to slip inside, seeing the dark-haired eleven-year-old sitting on the toilet with her face buried in her hands. When she hears you close the door, she looks up at you, eyes red and swollen, cheeks stained with tears. Her shiny black hair is all over her face and she’s still wearing her matching blue pajamas with little various kinds of shark printed on them.

You smile as you lower yourself in front of her to meet her eye-level, placing the napkin on the sink. “Hi, Yuki.”

She sniffs but politely returns the greeting. “Hello Y/N.”

“It’s scary, isn’t it? Waking up and seeing all this blood?” You ask and she nods. You hum. “Has your teacher or parents talked to you about getting your menstruation during puberty?”

“Yeah, my Science teacher, Ms. Cho, gave a lecture about it last semester,” Yuki answers, eyes similar to that of her father’s lowering as she fiddles with her fingers. “Mom and dad never really did.”

You nod in understanding. “I see. I learned about it through my teacher too.”

Her eyes shoot up to meet yours again, wide and filled with validation. Your heart breaks again. “Really?”

“Yeah. My mom passed away when I was young, so she never got the chance to teach me about periods and napkins and all that stuff. My dad – he was working so he wasn’t able to teach me about it too.”

It’s a watered-down version of your childhood, but you’re not about to trauma dump to an eleven-year-old.

“Can we clean you up? I’ll teach you everything I know about dealing with this every month,” You say, sucking your teeth. Yuki nods. “Okay. Do you wanna take a shower so you can get cleaned up? I’ll be outside with your clothes and towel once you’re finished.”

“Okay. Thank you, Y/N.”

“No problem, Yuki. I’m glad to be of help.”

You leave the bathroom to give Yuki privacy and spot her father leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. When he hears the door close, his head shoots up at your direction.

“Everything is fine, Mr. Jeon. She just got shaken up, but she’s already taking a shower. Can you prepare her clothes and her towel?” You ask, placing your hands on your hips.

“Yeah, her room is the one on your right,” Jungkook says as he points at it. “You can come inside if you want.”

So you do, looking at the ocean-themed room from the blue walls, the shark-printed bed sheets, whale-printed curtains, the sphere lamp covered in different marine animal stickers.

“She’s currently in her marine phase though it’s gotten a bit longer than I anticipated so maybe it’s not a phase after all,” Jungkook shares as he grabs clothes from his daughter’s cabinet then takes the towel hanging on it.

You nod, completely getting it. “I’ve had my phases too. Some I never really grew out of.”

“Yeah? Like what?” Jungkook asks, sending you a smile.

You can’t help but return it, albeit a teasing one. “It’s a secret, Mr. Jeon.”

He laughs a little, nodding as he grabs a pair of clean underwear from Yuki’s drawer. “Alright. I respect that.”

Once Yuki finished showering, you hand her the towel to dry and cover herself before you enter and tell her some tips on how to handle her menstruation, demonstrating how napkins work and telling her when to change it so she won’t get any sort of rashes. You also tell her about cravings and mood swings. Once she’s all done, you and Yuki step out of the bathroom, her hiding behind you and only peeking through your arm to look at her father who has lowered himself on the door, an encouraging smile on his face.

“Go on, Yuki. There is nothing to be ashamed of towards your dad,” You tell her gently. “But if you’re not ready, it’s okay too. I’m sure your dad will understand.”

Yuki contemplates before ultimately deciding on running towards her father who greets her with his arm wide open. You watch as Jungkook embraces Yuki warmly, eyes closing and pressing kisses on her cheek. Yuki buries her face on the crook of his neck.

“It’s okay, baby. I’m not mad. I understand. I’m just happy you’re okay now,” Jungkook soothes, rubbing Yuki’s back in circles.

At that moment, you feel a tug in your heart. You’ve never really looked at Jeon Jungkook before – your paths didn’t really cross despite living on the same floor. You would only get a chance to talk to Yuki when the two of you would be walking up the hill to your apartment building after school ended. Maybe it was because you were a homebody who spent your free time in the comfort of your home. But now that you had gotten the chance to really see him – you couldn’t deny that he was one of the most handsome men you had ever seen.

You quickly shut down this thought. He’s a married man for crying out loud – it’s not right for you to be thinking about him in any way.

“Did you say thank you to Y/N?” Jungkook asks Yuki.

“She already did, and really, it’s not a problem. Glad I could be of help,” You say with a smile. “Anyway, I guess I’ll be on my way. I still have some papers to grade.”

“I’ll walk you back,” Jungkook offers.

You shake your head. “No, it’s okay, Mr. Jeon.”

“No, please, let me. It’s the least I can do for your help, for now, at least,” He insists. “I prepared your favorite snack in the kitchen, Yuki. I’ll just walk Y/N back to her apartment then I’ll join you, okay?” He tells his daughter, kissing the top of her head.

“Yes dad,” Yuki answers with a nod.

She gives you a hug on your way out.

“There’s really no need for you to walk me back, Mr. Jeon,” You say as you scratch the top of your head awkwardly.

“We are walking now so too late,” He quips, a lopsided smile forming on his lips. You only now see his piercing. Damn. “I’m serious though. This won’t just be the last thank you you’ll receive from me. You helped us out so much. You deserve better than a walk.”

“It’s really okay. I’m just happy that Yuki is fine,” You say as you reach your apartment. “Here I am. Thank you for walking me back, Mr. Jeon.”

“Thank you for everything, Y/N. If there is anything you need – anything – I’m just at 613, okay? Please don’t hesitate to knock on our door.”

You smile, nodding. “See you around, Mr. Jeon.”

“See you, Y/N, and if you’re comfortable with it, please just call me Jungkook.”

“Okay,” You say. “See you around, Jungkook.”

His smile widens – or at least in your mind it does. “Great. Enjoy the rest of your afternoon, Y/N.”

When you walk back inside your apartment, you press your back against the door, heart beating faster than normal. Why do you get the feeling that you’ll be seeing more of the Jeons? And why does it make your heart race?

ANDI: I need this while working on something as dark as Dead Kids so I won’t be too burnt out when writing it. I hope you guys liked it and let me know what you think! 🦉

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mikrokcsmos · 2 years ago

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Chubby Bunny

synopsis; in which your son steals the show, and hearts of thousands of people.

pairing; idol!jungkook, dad!jungkook x non idol!reader, mom!reader

genre; fluff, humor, established relationship, marriage au, dad au, PTD LA au

rating; PG-13

warnings; best dad jungkook will destroy your ovaries (along with best uncles as well)

w/c; 2,077

a/n; y’all writing this gave me so many feels, my heart is full. pls leave some love. like and reblog if u wanna see more <3 this is a repost from my old account.

Your son, Hiro’s, favorite song was Permission to Dance. Especially since his father, Jungkook, taught the five year old how to do the chorus choreography, perfectly. Which was a pretty easy task to accomplish, considering Hiro also helped come up with that dance, albeit with a little direction from Hobi in the dance studio during group rehearsals. But mainly it was Hiro’s imagination. Cause let me tell ya, that kid loved to dance, just like his daddy.

Grinning fondly, you clapped your hands to the beat, watching your son dance with his daddy in front of the big floor to ceiling mirrors located in the rehearsal room for their upcoming concert in Las Vegas. It was so cute to watch Hiro with such a look of determination on his face, being just as serious about rehearsals as Jungkook. Wanting to hit every mark with an expert precision.

“You’re doing so good, baby!” You exclaimed enthusiastically, encouraging your son further.

“Thank you, mommy!” He replied without missing a beat.

“What about me?” Jungkook pouted at you in the mirror wanting some form of praise from you as well. Rolling your eyes fondly, you decided to humor the big man baby of yours.

“You’re doing exceptionally well, kookie. Just like you always do, honey. I’m so proud of you!” You feigned being lovesick, batting your lashes at your husband, smiling cheekily. He winked at you in response, accepting the praise, however fake, gratefully.

As they finished up practice for the day, you stood up from your seated position on the floor. Purposely dancing the wrong moves while walking towards your boys, knowing it’ll get a giggle out of your son. You were right. His father lifted him by surprise, throwing him up in the air to catch him. Hooking his arm underneath his son’s bum holding onto him tightly, Jungkook began dancing terribly along with you. All of you making silly faces in the mirror. Your son threw his head back against his father’s shoulder in a fit of laughter, his bunny toothed smile on full display, a direct replica of Jungkook’s current smile. His chubby cheeks making you want to pinch them, so you did, cause you’re mom and you’re allowed to do so whenever you want too. It’s common mom law.

After your little fit of laughter, your son let out a big yawn and rubbed his eyes, a sure sign he was ready for sleep. Perfect, the parents thought. Now he’ll crash for the night and be ready for the big day tomorrow. Day one of Las Vegas.

It was a beautiful day in Vegas, you thought. Sunglasses on your face, and one of Jungkook’s bucket hats on your head to help block the sun, you stretched your hands up in the air and took a deep breath. Letting it out, you put your arms back down and set them on your hips in a superwoman pose and looked out at the ginormous stadium around you that would be BTS’s venue for the concert tonight.

All the boys started to come on the stage to start rehearsal chatting animatedly to each other, so you started to walk back down the long catwalk towards them. Upon close inspection of the group you noticed that your son somehow convinced Yoongi to let him sit on his shoulders. Your son’s chubby thighs were on either side of the normally reserved rapper’s head. His hands settled next to his ears, holding on for dear life and smiling like crazy upon seeing you.

“HEY MOMMY!” He bounced excitedly, making the rapper’s eyes widen and clutch onto your son’s ankles tighter not wanting him to fall off and face the wrath of you and Jungkook. Especially Jungkook. He’s even more protective of Hiro than you, and that’s saying something. As a matter of fact you could see Jungkook’s line of vision go from you with a smile and a wave to a look of absolute terror once he noticed his son start to get excited while on the rapper’s shoulders. His entire body shifted towards the duo ready to jump in at anytime to catch his son incase he somehow did end up falling. Thankfully, it never came to that.

“Be careful baby, you don’t want to give your daddy a heart attack do you?” You asked playfully, shaking your finger at your son, smiling at him to let him know you weren’t serious. “And remember, you have to be more careful with Uncle Yoongi’s shoulder, yeah?” You stated the fact softly in your motherly voice.

“Right mommy. I’m sorry Uncle Yoongi.” Your son then leaned down to kiss the top of the rapper’s head, making his cheeks get a dusty pink color to them. All the members, including you, awed at the sweet gesture.

“No worries, kid.” He replied in typical Yoongi manner, but made sure to give your son a genuine smile to thank him for his apology.

The rest of the members came around Yoongi and your son to take turns ruffling his hair, each greeting you with a hug or high five before walking past you to the markers to start rehearsing. Jungkook being last in line, picked his son up off the rapper’s shoulders finally giving him some relief. Rolling his shoulders, Yoongi walked towards you and gave you his usual fist bump, you complied knowing full well he didn’t do hugs that often, and took his spot at his marker. Jungkook carefully set Hiro down on the floor. Kneeling down to his son’s height, he gave him a hug and a kiss on the forehead and quietly praised him for his good manners. Promising him some sweets later that you weren’t aware of. He never failed to spoil his son any chance he could get.

Jungkook straightened himself up as you stepped closer to them, wrapping his arms around your waist briefly, giving you a short but sweet kiss on the lips, which you happily returned with your hands splayed against his chest. He gave you one last forehead kiss, tapping the tip of your hat with his fingertip and playfully said, “nice hat.” before winking, and walked to his marker, joining the rest of the members. Time to begin.

There was only one song left in the set for their concert for tonight. Your son grinned knowingly, clapping his hands in delight and anticipation. Noise cancelling headphones adorned his head to be sure his ears were safe from the loud speakers that were all around you, you donning your own, having been watching from the side of the stage like you always do.

Jungkook started the song effortlessly, all the members joining in singing during their respective parts and choreography. Then it got to your son’s absolute favorite part, when he watches all the back up dancers join the members on stage to finish off the song in a huge flash mob. You had to be honest, it was your favorite part as well.

You should’ve known that your son was up to something, being the clever little one that he was. The way he kept fidgeting in your lap more than normal, a sure sign of his impending plan to escape your grasp. And he did, taking advantage of the fact that you always trusted him not to run off without permission. But not this time. This time it was his turn to shine like daddy.

He hopped off your lap in a flourish, swiftly pushing the headphones off his head and ran straight onto the stage with the backup dancers.

Your eyes widened considerably, hands flying to your mouth, covering your gasp of shock. All you could do was watch as your son, knowing the layout of the stage, and his dads foot paths, made a bee line towards Jungkook. He was left center stage down the catwalk with the rest of the members, gearing towards the final steps of your son’s favorite choreography. Not even noticing how his son just ran on with the back up dancers, nearly blending in perfectly in his matching outfit he wore like his father.

Popping out from behind the dancers, Hiro stood proudly next to his daddy and executed the dance with a precision that made Hobi wanna cry tears of joy. And you. And Jungkook, of course, who started laughing while still singing his lines and dancing. The entire stadium erupted into laughter, applause, and awe at the little mini me. All the phones being pulled out to catch the intimate moment between father and son that you know will be headline news for days, if not weeks, or months. Never doubt the power of ARMY.

Once the song was over, Jungkook swiftly picked his son up and held him tightly, one hand behind his head and the other under his bum. Crying silent tears of joy and love and straight pride for being the father to this perfect little human he was lucky enough to call his son. Purple balloons and confetti were falling all around them in waves.

Pulling away slightly to give Hiro a kiss on the cheek, Hiro wiped away his father’s tears with his little hands, making Jungkook smile softly at him in response. Jungkook brought the microphone up to his lips, chuckling into it slightly before speaking to the crowd.

“Everyone, I would like you to meet my son, Hiro.” Once again, the stadium erupted into applause, your son starting to get shy by all the praise, hiding his face in his father’s chest.

“Isn’t he such a great dancer?” Hobi chimed in his mic with pride, clapping for the little one exuberantly. The crowd clapping louder in response to the dancer’s words.

“Isn’t he so handsome, like me?” Jin, Mr. Worldwide handsome himself, stated. Winking at the camera that’s been following the members throughout the concert, projecting his image on the large screens. The audience once again erupting in shared wolf whistles and laughter alike.

“I think Hiro is more handsome, actually.” Your voice boomed across the stadium, you holding a mic that the staff gave you, still looking on from the sidelines of the stage. Smirking to yourself, with a wide grin.

Hearing your voice made all the members double over in laughter and scattered applause, nearly crying from laughing so hard. Minus Jin of course, who just cutely pouted towards the camera, once again being displayed on screen. Jungkook could only throw his head back in laughter, still holding onto his son, your son giving a little giggle of his own upon hearing your voice.

“Mommy!” Your son excitedly yelled into the mic being held by Jungkook, wriggling in his father’s hold, making him hold onto him tighter in response.

“Hey, baby.” You replied a second later, gazing adoringly at him.

“That would be my amazing wife, ladies and gents.” Jungkook stated with pride and a gleaming smile in your direction, locking eyes with you for a second and winking at you. You winked back at him, blowing a kiss and mouthing an ‘I love you’ at him.

He mouthed it back right away, turning to look at the crowd once again with a bunny tooth smile and signaled to Namjoon to close the show with his usual heartwarming speech for ARMY.

Hiro signaled he wanted to be put down to his father, which he did a little reluctantly, scared for the boy’s safety on the stage not wanting him to fall off, even though he knew he would never let that happen.

The five year old, in classic five year old behavior, began kicking the purple BTS themed balloons around the stage in glee. Picking up piles of confetti and throwing them over his head. Taehyung leaned down towards Hiro, and even let him throw it on his head willingly. Jimin and the other members mirroring V’s actions, wanting to make the boy equally as happy as he makes them on a daily basis.

Sighing to yourself in content, you crossed your arms over your chest and watched your entire family all become little kids in the span of two seconds. And, you thought lovingly, you wouldn’t want it any other way.

Pushing the headphones off your ears, you gently set them on the chair you were sitting on with Hiro earlier and immediately sprinted onto the stage, joining your family, and deciding it was your turn to turn into a little kid as well.

#jeon jungkook x you #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook x reader #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jeon jungkook #bts jeon jungkook #marriage au #PTD LA au #dad au #family au #idol au

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eoieopda · 2 years ago

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Can you please do a jungkook being dad or to be dad ?!?🥹🫠they’re freaking cute

aaaaaah! i love writing dad!bangtan 🥹

ft. established relationship au, unmarried jk & reader, mention of unplanned pregnancy, matching timbs.

No part of your life proceeded as planned.

Somehow, everything you ended up with fell right into your lap before you could think to seek it. One of those sudden discoveries was Jungkook, your now-boyfriend, who crashed into your life four years ago in the most literal sense — on a bike, right into the side of your car.

Things escalated from first aid on the sidewalk to compensatory japchae at a nearby restaurant. When his nose stopped bleeding and your bellies were full, the conversation kept flowing until the restaurant staff begged to be able to close for the night.

You didn’t expect him to stick around for all of that, but you were glad he did.

He became a recurring character in your life after that; promoting himself to series regular in the same way your sporadic coffee dates became part of your daily routine. From the café up the block to your jointly-purchased kitchen table, he was present at your side.

Your pregnancy came about just as unexpectedly. Only a year into your relationship, you pissed on a stick to confirm a hunch. You — perhaps unfairly — expected a negative reaction to that positive result, but what you got instead was partnership. Jungkook’s presence once again communicating his promise to stay.

And shit, did he make good.

For someone who didn’t plan to become a father at twenty-three, he was as good at this as he was literally everything else. A quick study, he could change a diaper faster than you could blink.

Jungkook made it all look easy, too; not exhausting, not frustrating, just natural. He soothed Jungsoo’s crying with minimal effort — usually with a song — and he was especially adept at keeping that smushy face smiling.

Best of all, you couldn’t identify a single moment in which the work felt unequal. He was adamant that parenting was a team sport.

True to form, he turned the dreaded, late-night wake-ups into a competition against himself. He’d set new personal records in both his response time and his resolution time. He’d be back in bed, wrapping himself around you before your sleep-steeped brain fully processed his absence.

Working full-time from home meant that you got to marvel at his talents in real-time. Watching the two of them interact throughout each day, you fell more impossibly in love with both of them. With their unbridled imaginations; their special, shared language; the eerily familiar way Jungsoo buffered through his confusion.

Because of your beloved boys, your house was full of laughter — every single day. You didn’t have to miss a single second.

Sitting at your kitchen table with your laptop open in front of you, you were halfway through today’s project. Jungkook had taken over the finger-painting session so you could meet your deadline without issue. At some point, though, you noticed a quiet you weren’t used to.

It was too early for nap time, so where was the giggling? The sing-alongs that made up the soundtrack to your day?

In the laundry room down the hall, you heard the door to the garage open and shut again. It was followed by slow, careful footfalls up the wooden steps; then an odd, metallic clatter that prompted you to stand. Before you could investigate further, there they came:

Jungkook, holding a step stool and a shopping bag from the hardware store. The pair of them must have slipped out unnoticed during your conference call earlier.

Jungsoo, holding his father’s hand while keeping plastic safety goggles on his face with the other. They coordinated perfectly with the toy tool-belt wrapped around his waist, and the yellow hard hat on his head.

Both were wearing Timberlands, though the smaller pair had zippers on the sides for ease of use.

“What are you two handymen up to?” You giggled as you placed your hands on your hips. Truly, the sight of them had you swooning; it would’ve been impossible not to smile.

The twenty-six-year-old exchanged a look with his three-year-old colleague; then the former held up the shopping bag. “The playroom ceiling needs a new eyeball.”

He said it matter-of-factly as if his explanation didn’t require one of its own. Jungkook noted the way you blinked slowly back at him, then he cleared his throat with a laugh.

“Sorry — lightbulb,” he corrected himself as he gently patted the top of your son’s hard hat. It shifted slightly at the contact, but Jungkook was quick to fix it. “I’m studying up on Jungsoo-ese.”

At the mention of his name, Jungsoo’s entire face lit up. His nose scrunched as he smiled, leaving his two front teeth on full display. You lovingly tapped the tip of that crinkled nose with your index finger, “I need lessons, apparently!”

Jungkook nodded, then knelt down to consult with his partner. He whispered something that you didn’t catch, and then Jungsoo went rocketing off to the playroom with a whoop. As soon as he was gone, Jungkook stood, wrapped his arms around you, and pulled you in for a kiss that left you breathless.

“I can tutor you, baby,” he promised with a cheeky grin, “But my expertise doesn’t come cheap.”

“Oh?” You smirked, “Name your price.”

He kept his eyes fixed on you as he nodded, much more serious when he spoke again, “We can negotiate specifics after bedtime, but I think this construction crew would benefit from a little expansion.”

Leaning up onto your toes, you carded your fingers through his hair and kissed him deep. You pulled away only to murmur against his lips, “There are more eyeballs in this house than there are hands to fix them…”

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smolkooks · 5 months ago

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when did it end? - park jimin

short and sweet. mild angst. inspired by billie eilish's 'what was i made for?'. dad!jimin au.

my masterlist!

｡･::･ﾟ★,｡･::･ﾟ☆｡･::･ﾟ★,｡･::･ﾟ☆

jimin had watched his daughter grow up.

her face, round with youth and bright like the sunshine, had changed little in his eyes even though he knew that she wasn’t a baby anymore. in fact, she was exactly the age that you were when he met you, today.

looking at her, laughing with her friends in the living room while he sat at the kitchen counter, he couldn’t help but think back to how life was with you.

days that felt neverending, spent at the beach. wading through the cold water, all year round, even during the freezing winter when you would grumble about how it was way too cold for the sun to work, way too cold for you to tan the way you wanted to. regardless of what you said, he always managed to drag you into the ocean. not that it took too much convincing—he knew, deep down, that you had always been a lover of the sea. just like he was. it was something that had brought the two of you together.

other days, you would go to the cinema like teenagers always did, on first dates, and second dates, and whenever they weren’t sure of where else to go. you were a sucker for horror and even though jimin always had nightmares for days after watching one, he still went with you. anything to make you happy. (even if it traumatised him a bit...)

it had all ended far too fast. not even three months after the birth of your daughter, you were gone. the doctors had done everything they could to save you, but you were gone.

that was sixteen years ago, now. sixteen years ago, jimin had had no idea how he would raise his daughter without you, without his lover, his best friend, his rock.

“dad!”

pulled out of his thoughts, jimin met the gleaming eyes of his clever daughter and smiled, lines creasing at the corners of his eyes. “soomin, what’s wrong?”

“we’re going out,” soomin responded with a bright grin, gesturing at her three friends, who had begun to pack up their things, “i’ll see you tonight. i’m so excited for your cake.”

jimin chuckled, silenced by how deeply her smile reminded him of you. how the way her left cheek dimpled was the way yours had. how her voice was as bright and beautiful as yours had always been.

“stay safe, soominie,” he said, patting her on the head, “i love you.”

she jokingly slapped at his hand for the pat, before heading out the door. jimin was left staring at the door, the house absent of sound.

he wished you were here to see it all.

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jeonsbabygirlsworld · 11 months ago

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SUMMARY: In which you teach your daughter a very important life lesson.

PAIRINGS: Husband Jungkook x wife reader

WORDCOUNT: 640

WARNINGS : Fluff fluff !!

A/N: A very small Drabble while you wait for other Fics in my Wip…… and @jungk97kwife to help me with this Drabble ❤️….. I hope you all will like this one 🩷 . Inspired from this .

Exhaling a sigh, you see a very giggly Na-Eun in front of you sitting in her pink teddy bear-shaped cushion chair with a small Sanrio plushy in her hand and some heart-shaped marshmallows, it's been a while since you have taught your girl a very needed life lesson, but your baby seems in a very naughty mood.

Trying again you deepen your voice and speak “If a strange man says, Na-Eun lets go eat cookies, what will you say?” Hoping her to say “no” a loud cheer of "I like it" resounds the Hall. “No baby, you have to say no!”You tell her again and she beeps out a loud “No”.

Giving her a kiss on her cheek of praise continuing you then ask her to return to the deep voice… “If he says, let's go eat ice cream, what will you say?”wanting her to say no she wiggles on her seat which makes you a giggling mess at her antics she says “Good”

Face-palming you tell your baby to say no and a cute NO resounds again, hopping she will get the next one correct you go ahead with the next question “What if a stranger asks, let's go swimming?”eager to hear her a loud “No” is heard.

High-fiving her you move on for the last round before you both practice, taking out your phone, you get her ready and start asking her the same questions again and she answers them correctly until when you tell her you are going to send it to her dad, messing on the last one you don't stop recording and think you will just type out her being camera shy at the end.

“Good! Tell him, go away”Again teaching her something new she follows perfectly behind you and tells her to make a “whuh,whuh”action which she ends up raising her hands and making a “shoo away” motion.

Jungkook on the other hand amid an important meeting, felt his phone vibrate. He glanced at the screen, and upon seeing your name, he excused himself. He held onto the message just to reply with a ‘👍’, hoping you’ll understand that he wasn’t able to check it out As soon as he was done with his meeting which stressed him out enough, he opened the video and the sight of his daughter on the screen immediately softened his expression. 'Maybe it was a great idea to leave the message for later’ he thinks in between himself as he admires the video, his heart-melting the second he senses her giggles.

He couldn’t help but feel full of pride, his little girl was growing up, learning important lessons, and handling them with such grace and confidence.

Of course, he was in awe of your patience too, something he was missing sometimes such as earlier during his meeting, and he felt a wave of appreciation for having such a wonderful companion in raising their child.

He quickly typed a response back, his fingers barely able to keep up with the rush of his thoughts. KOOK❤️: Cute, so proud of her . KOOK❤️: Doing an amazing job love ❤️ KOOK❤️: Don't teach her everything without me though.

He couldn’t help it, he shook his head in disapproval at himself, at the way he was feeling sarcastically jealous at the thought of you taking over the teaching. KOOK❤️: Can't wait to get home to you. And with that he’s back to his work, motivated again just because he wanted to leave this place as soon as possible and come back to his family; cause every decision he made, every effort he put into his exhausting work was for his family only. And knowing he’s got an amazing companion at home who’s making sure his princess is growing up healthy, made him realize that all his hard work was worth it.

MOODBOARD

In which your about to give birth and jungkook won’t stop panicking

TAGLIST: @kimmingyuswifee @jksgirlhere @httpjeonlicious @bunnykoos @ohsweetmimosa @dragonflygurl4 @lovingkoalaface @snow-strawberry @jungkooks21 @jklvrs-world @aloverga @vsr4197 @skzthinker @kpop-nct @--xxchrissyxx-- @sarai-ibn-la-ahad @olimpiiaa @cassies-cookies @angelbiaa09 @ravynnn-12 @lovebtsforever24 @yuyupie @100butterfliesinthesky @starcandysstuff

Tag lists are still open send ask to join. :0

#bts #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts smut #jungkook x reader #jeon Jungkook #jungkook smut #bts jungkook #bts x you #jungkook #dad jungkook #bts x reader #bts jjk #jungkook dad au #jungkook fanfic #kpop smut #fluff #smut #bts fanfic bts smut

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soft4gguk · 4 months ago

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to build a home | chapter twelve

Pairing: Jungkook x reader. ceo!jk + dilf!jk x nanny!oc

Genre: strangers to lovers. angst. fluff. smut.

Word count: 18k (hehe)

Warnings: this is so long i don’t know that i remember every single thing i must’ve included here but i’ll try my best lol. angst!! this is a very angsty chappie but it’s needed ok? so sad so sexy oc. jungkook is a dick twice!! for like a second but its bc he’s scared :( & stressed. Unprotected sex (don't!!! xo). they dirty talk a lot acc. i think thats it? i hope thats it lol.

Author’s note: it’s a sunday and we have a new tbah chapter!! thank you, truly, from the bottom of my heart for waiting. and for giving me such a warm welcome and giving my writing so much love, even amidst my absence. i really hope you guys enjoy this installment of to build a home! i poured my heart on this and i enjoyed it so, so much. it felt like the good old days!! do let me know what you thought - i feel like there’s so much to UNPACK for this one. i love you guys x a million. thank u for reading <3

This is a work of fiction. Please respect the members and their privacy. x

Chapter Twelve

The sun stirs you awake this morning, its rays sneaking their way inside your room with every gust of wind that makes the curtains dance and the moment you regain the smallest bit of consciousness, you know it’s too early. You’re not meant to be awake for another hour or so but after a minute of tossing and turning, you begin to feel the sleep drift out of you. Your mind fills with thoughts and things to do, feelings and their unresolved natures. It’s Monday, after all, lots to do, lots to feel and certainly lots to confront.

You slip out of the comfort of your blankets and pillows, putting your headphones over your head and pressing shuffle on the first playlist you find, cranking the volume a little too high in hopes that it will quieten the sea of thoughts that begin to whirlwind inside your mind. You make your way to the kitchen and almost miss the peace and quiet of six a.m., specially here. When the world is still asleep and it’s just you and you can let yourself fall into the long process of making yourself a cup of coffee. More than a process, you’d call it a ritual. You find it good to just stare at your hands at work, resilient in providing sweet satisfaction in a matter of minutes. And so, despite the lack of peace and quiet this morning provides, you get to work. Grinding the coffee beans until they’re silky smooth, pouring the water into the bottom of your italian press and putting it all back together to rest at the stove top. Until all there’s left to do is wait. Wait, wait, wait…

“I love you.”

You wish it was those mere words that were pressing on you. But it was more. It was the way you felt his body weight on top of yours grow tense. The way the seconds felt like minutes, and then hours, until not even in proximity could you feel him close. How the air felt dense around you and your nerves got the best of you.

“You don’t have to say it back. I’d say it was a heat of the moment thing but… I don’t think that makes any difference.”

It all echoes inside of your head. Inside of your chest. Your words, the stutter, the awkward laughter that followed as you tried to brace yourself for whatever came next. Only nothing did.

He didn’t say it back.

He didn’t say it back when the high came down and you both wrapped your bodies around each other. He didn’t say it back as he kissed you, slowly and with that lazy characteristic that takes on when he’s sleepy, but not less filled with intention. He fell asleep first, his body impossibly flushed to yours, your fingers carded in his hair for hours as you laid awake, unable to reconcile sleep.

He didn’t say it back when his lips on your cheeks woke you up the next morning. It was sweet, your mind blank with the exception of the bliss his touch basked you in. He kissed and touched, he pleased. But he didn’t say it back.

He didn’t say it back throughout the day but by then your mind had fallen at ease, taking you by surprise, even. It was a lazy Sunday morning that turned into a lazy Sunday afternoon, nothing but peace and leisure as the three of you spent the day by the pool. Snacking on whatever the season had turned ripe and sweet. It was a perfect summer day and as Soori splashed about and you looked into each other’s eyes in pride and joy, you thought that maybe, just maybe, he was trying to tell you.

But he didn’t say it back. Not when you said goodbye after putting Soori to sleep, not when he kissed you and said he’d see you tomorrow. Not when you turned around, stealing one last glance at him, lingering for a second too long in awe of his beauty as he smiled and leaned by his doorframe, taking you in. Not even when he called you to make sure you’d gotten home safe and his silence and yours filled the line right as you were about to hang up. And then you didn’t, and you waited, until the line disconnected.

Your coffee overheats as you go back and forth, one cruel thought after the other, and it’s the lid jumping and splashing the liquid everywhere that brings you back to your small kitchen.

“Shit.” You remove the pot from the stove and let it rest for a minute as you clean up the mess. Getting lost in your thoughts again because, hey, at least you woke up early, so as to give you enough time to let the overthinking make you clumsy.

Ten different things go wrong before you’re finally able to sit down on your couch, freshly brewed iced americano in one hand, your journal and pen in another. All you need to do is let your thoughts leave you. Yes, that’s exactly what you need to do. You need to come back to yourself as you sip your coffee slowly and fill an entire page worth of your feelings. It’s catharsis in it’s purest form. A foul-proof method, at that.

Only it isn’t. You fill the pages with sentences like,

Why didn’t he say it?

I should’ve not acted like it meant nothing to me. It meant the world to me.

He means the world to me.

I love him.

Does he not love me back?

And the one that filled the pages the most,

Why doesn’t he love me back?

And by the time you’re ready to leave the house, you’re still a ball of unresolved emotions and a chaotic neutral feeling taking over your every being because all you want to do is scream but you’re running late to see the root of all your problems.

Thankfully, the root of all your problems walks inside his kitchen that morning holding what you believe is the cure of all that is wrong in the world: his daughter.

“Oh my God, you look so cute,” and she does. A smile that makes you melt, two pigtails held by tiny pink bows and an oversized Winnie The Pooh t-shirt that brings her whole look together. “Good morning, baby.”

The moment she falls into your arms you feel an ease run through you that makes you submit to the harsh edges of the world, waving white flag. She’s foul-proof magic and method.

“Good morning,” he says, giving you a smile that almost washes away your uncertainties.

“Good morning.” You take Soori from his arms and return the smile, but he can tell it’s not quite there yet. Not that he thinks much of it – your morning meet ups in the kitchen are always cordial but not overly so, you wouldn’t want Mrs. Chae to suspect anything. –

“I have a busy week coming up.”

“You do?” It’s a question that translates to, you didn’t mention that and Jungkook doesn’t miss it in your tone.

“Yeah. So I’ll probably be home a bit late. No more than an hour, though, is that okay?”

“Sure.”

“Great. Thanks!” He’s nonchalant as he walks up to the kitchen island, greeting Mrs. Chae and moving quickly through his iced americano.

He leans against the counter, scrolling down his phone, not a care in the world. A particular sip has him choking on his coffee and he coughs a little. Inside, you smile. And yes, that’s not the proudest you’ve been of a feeling but can you be blamed? He doesn’t look like his coffee splashed all over his kitchen counter this morning because he couldn’t stop thinking about how he confessed his love to you and you didn’t say it back. Matter of fact, not saying it back is the least of your concerns. He didn’t say anything! No reaction, nothing. You hope he chokes on his coffee again. It’s harmless, in your defense, most women would be hoping for bloodier, more treacherous things. He’s lucky you don’t-

“‘Kay. Gotta go. Have a nice day, Mrs. Chae!” He walks over to you, taking Soori from your arms and showering her cheeks with kisses as he makes his way to the doorway. She’s getting better at the goodbye part of the mornings but Mondays are always tricky.

“Have a nice day.” You smile, a bit forcibly.

“Aw,” he frowns, pouting, and you think he almost gets it, but no. “You tired, baby? Mondays can be hard.”

You want to gasp. No, really, it takes all the strength in you not to gasp. “Yeah, slept horribly, actually.”

“Take it easy today. You two should take a nap in my bed.” You nod and agree and he hugs you after he passes Soori to you, pulling her in as well. It’s a little three-way-hug and it makes your heart feel a little comfort, even amidst the chaos.

“You take it easy, too.” Your hand finds his and you squeeze, even if for a second.

“Bye, baby.” He kisses you. “Bye, baby!” He kisses Soori. And off he goes.

This is pretty much what your entire week looks like. Going to bed late, head swimming in thoughts. Waking up an hour before your alarm rings, head swimming in the said thoughts. Breakfast before Lucy is up, so you can leave right as she wakes up, because a part of you knows she’d know, and that you couldn’t handle it. Lucy cares. Lucy would ask you a thousand questions, or encourage you to talk about it, or she would simply wrap you up in a hug that would send tears to your eyes that would turn into full on sobs by the time she was done putting her loving on you. So you lie to her; tell her Jungkook needs to be at the office earlier this week, and she buys it, no questions asked.

You walk half of your commute, and then take the bus, mainly to kill time. On Wednesday you think you could probably just take the bus right away, be early, make up some excuse to Mrs. Chae and go up the stairs, to his bedroom. You could watch Soori for him as he gets ready, you could take him in as he prepares for the day, you could ask him to be five minutes late so he can kiss you silly and extinguish the fire of doubt that keeps growing thicker, taller flames inside your heart. But, could you? Could you do all that? Have you fallen into enough familiarity as to do that? You thought you had, now you’re not so sure.

Spiraling. That’s what your week looks like. You meet him in the kitchen, bask in the peace Soori brings you the moment she wraps her arms around you (she’s a hugger now) and try to suppress the witty remarks that threaten to leave your mouth, fueled by sarcasm and anger, every time you speak to him. But most days, you’re just sad. So sad you have to fake a smile, or make a grand effort to hold a conversation. Not that you have many. Jungkook is busy, morning and night. Something about a new property they’re getting ready to acquire - a future addition to The West End Collection. Each day the stress and tiredness reflects on him more, his energy plummeting. He says something about timezones and having to reply to emails at three a.m. so you assume it’s an international transaction. Nonetheless, it’s all assumption, you guys barely talk. And you get it. Jungkook is a busy man – he owns hotels, for Christ’s Sake! – And under any other circumstance, his distance and your lack of communication combined wouldn’t worry you, it’d simply be that, circumstantial. But right now, all it does is fuel the overthinking and self-doubt.

But then it’s midday and you remember how he kissed you in the morning before he left, and your thoughts quieten. Instead, they’re replaced by that pink, fuzzy feeling that your body recognizes as him. The feeling that belongs to him and him only. And on the bus ride home you replay the way he kissed you goodbye, no one around you, and able to take his time. His hand resting on your cheek, his lips parting your mouth, the small sigh of relief that never fails to leave him whenever he deepens the kiss. This cloud of comfort the memories put you in inevitably land you back to square one, simply for the fact that they remind you of the one thing that presses on to your heart the most: you love him.

By the time Friday rolls around, you’re so exhausted from the marathon taking place inside your head that the moment you make it home, aided by the quiet and solitude that falls into your apartment – courtesy of date night for Lucy and Jimin – your body starts to ache from exhaustion.

You change into an old t-shirt and shorts, put your hair up in a bun and decide you will be treating yourself to take out. You get cozy, blanket tucked under you as Gilmore Girls – your comfort show – plays on the TV. Scrolling lazily through the food delivery apps, you ponder on what to eat. You want something that screams sad girl stays home because non-reciprocated love is too heavy of a burden to bear. Pizza, pasta, a burger. Maybe some ramen! Or a burrito, that never fails. Or perhaps just dessert. Perhaps that’s what you need. A shock to the body in the form of sugar. But amidst your indecision your lids fall heavy and you’re out cold before the clock can mark eight p.m.

And you sleep. You sleep through the night, a deep, dreamless slumber that makes you pay for all the sleepless nights you put your body through. You barely move an inch throughout the night, Gilmore Girls serving as a soft lullaby in the background until Netflix gathers that you are not, as a matter of fact, still watching. You could probably sleep through the morning, and if you really tried, you could probably sleep through the afternoon if you cozied yourself up just right, but the universe has other plans. More like, Lucy and Jimin have other plans. In their defense, you are running late for book club.

Their hushed little giggles as they enter the house is the first thing you hear in the depths of your subconscious as the noise attempts to stir you awake. But it’s to no avail. Your mind ignores it eventually after it goes on for a minute too long. The second attempt is their hushed chit chat that takes one too many pauses as it gets lost in the giggles and pecks they share in between.

“Shhh. You’re gonna wake __ up!” It’s Jimin, your subconscious recognizes that much.

“Hmm,” more giggles. “She should be in the shower right about now. She has book club, remember?”

“Shit, that’s true! Hey, we can fuck in the kitchen again?”

“Jimin, oh my god. Shhh!”

You frown, but your mind refuses to fully wake up.

It’s the wet noise from their kisses that finally do it, at a third triumphant attempt. You jolt awake, turning to the direction of the kitchen where you see the image that matches the dirty little noises they make. Lucy opens her eyes for a split second as Jimin presses her against the counter and she all but screams when she sees your head peeking from the sofa, hair a mess and a scowl painting your features. Jimin shrieks follow a second later.

“Shh. Shhhh!” you say. “What time is it?”

“It’s 9:15!” Lucy yells, still startled. “What are you doing here? Are you feeling okay? You look… under the weather.”

“Yeah __ you look rough,” Jimin says.

“Aren’t you two just sweet? I fell asleep on the couch,” you stumble as you make your way to your bedroom, still groggy from sleep. “Shit. I’m gonna be so late.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll make you some coffee and a sandwich to-go,” Lucy says, peeking inside your bedroom.

“Thank you, Lu. You’re the best.” You brush through your hair, incredulous as to how it got so messy through the night.

“Of course,” she says, lingering in your doorframe. “But seriously __, are you doing alright? I’ve barely seen you this week.”

“Yeah. Yes. I’m fine. Long hours at work, that’s all.”

She smiles. “I’m gonna tell Jungkook not to work you too hard when I see him today.” You look at her, confusion lacing your features. “Dae’s birthday party, remember?”

“Oh, shit. That’s today. I totally forgot.”

Now it’s Lucy’s turn to look confused. And rightfully so. I mean, what would warrant a reaction like the one you just had? You love Dae. And she knows that any excuse to see Jungkook puts a giddy, little smile on your face, like a teenage girl. She calls it the puppy love stage, and is convinced you’re deep into it. You can’t blame her. A week ago you would have agreed. But today you were hoping you could avoid all thoughts of him. Come up with some excuse, tell him you’re feeling a bit under the weather and that you’d take the weekend to recover. But your plans of drowning your feelings in pizza, ice cream and Gilmore Girls (not necessarily in that order) just tumbled to the ground. You do, in fact, love Dae and wouldn’t miss his birthday party for the world.

“I’ll just be a little late,” you smile, disguising your thoughts. “So, you know, I can come back and shower, seeing as I won’t have time to do that.”

You’re not entirely sure she buys it, but she offers you a smile and heads to the kitchen to make you breakfast. That act alone makes you want to cry.

It’s gonna be a long day.

It’s a beautiful, sunny day. Perfect for a pool party. Mai had hired a very capable catering company that was in charge of feeding both the adults and the kids at Dae’s birthday party, but Taehyung had gotten a new grill and he could find no better day to break it in than today. And even though she insisted, it was to no avail. They were grilling – the finest cuts of steak, at that – and opening the nicest bottles of wine. His first born was turning five and they had a second one on the way! He takes a minute to take it all in, sighing in pure, blissful satisfaction. There was only one person whose grilling skills could come close to his, and he knows that much because he taught him.

“What a good day, isn’t it, Jungkookie?”

Jungkook nods, taking a sip of his red wine as his eyes scan the scene before him. Kids running around everywhere, scattered all over Mai and Taehyung’s garden. A huge bouncy castle with a water slide happened to be the main entertainment of the day, making him question how he was going to top it up with his Iron Man act. His friends all gathered to celebrate Dae, whom he loved and couldn’t believe was turning five. He also couldn’t believe he was still a bachelor when he was born, not envious of his friend’s new lifestyle, and now… well, look at him now! His eyes scan the place for Soori, who’s in Kenny’s lap as her cousins play around her. She smiles and claps, eyes wide as she kicks and screams in joy and he can’t believe she’ll be able to keep up with them soon.

“Can you believe we’re dads?”

“In awe of it every day, actually. Can you believe we’re actually good at it?” Taehyung looks at Jungkook, who’s deep in thought.

“No. Takes me by surprise every day,” he says, and Taehyung likes the way Jungkook gives himself credit, despite it all.

“Can you believe Jimin is well on his way to settle down?” Taehyung says, gaze diverting forward. Jungkook follows his line of vision and understands exactly what he’s talking about. There they are, Jimin and Lucy.

“About time.” And he’s only half joking, but the truth is, Jungkook hadn’t seen his friend this happy in years, and he’s got Lucy to thank for that. They all do.

“Aw, imagine how cute their babies will look like,” Taehyung says, earning himself a frown from Jungkook.

“Keep your baby fever in your pants, please.”

“Oh, if only you knew.”

Jungkook looks at him and it takes him all but a second to know what he’s talking about.

“Really?” Taehyung just shrugs, but he smiles bright and big, and his happiness is contagious. “Bro, seriously. You have to learn to shut your mouth. Mai is gonna kill you! Again!” and of course, Jungkook is alluding to the very first secret Taehyung couldn’t keep from his best friend. That first secret is turning five today.

“Don’t tell her I told you, bro.” He sounds like a child, and Jungkook can’t believe he’s officially a dad of two.

“Oh, I so will.”

“Fucking traitor.” He says.

“Hey, congratulations. I’m so happy for you guys.”

Taehyung brings him in for a hug and it ends as quickly as it begins. “Shh, sh. She’s looking this way, act cool.”

“A fucking child.”

“You’re the child! I’m older than you by almost two-”

Jimin walks behind them, taking them by surprise when he throws his arms around their shoulders. “Children, please. Settle down.”

Lucy giggles, rolling her eyes at her boyfriend’s goofy nature. She loves that about him. Matter of fact, she’d just told him, for the very first time, that she loved everything about him. That she loved him. This came after Jimin had blurted it out, in the middle of a very mild argument over the best Shrek movie. She loved him so much she’d decided to overlook the fact he said it was the fourth. Everyone knows it’s the second.

“Funny. We were just talking about you.” Taehyung says.

“Nothing but compliments and praises, I’d imagine!” He says. His friends both shrug at the same time, earning themselves a scowl from him.

Jungkook turns to Lucy, smiling at her before asking, “Hey, have you heard from __? She told me she’d be here.”

“Oh, she overslept this morning, didn’t even have time to shower. So she just went home to freshen up before the party.” Lucy replies, finding it a bit odd that he isn’t aware of your whereabouts.

“Ah,” he ponders on this for a minute. “I see.”

“I’m sure she’ll be here soon.” Her smile is kind, almost like she knows. And oh, she knows. Only she can’t put her finger on it entirely. She knows something’s mildly off, but everything seemed fine at surface level. Ultimately, she didn’t want to pry – knew that often her overthinking led her to worry for no reason – but also, her gut was almost never wrong.

Jimin’s voice brings her back from her mental gymnastics.

“Babe, let’s go get our bathing suits on! I’m so going on that bouncy castle.”

“Please don’t do anything stupid. And don’t break the bouncy castle, the deposit on it alone was more than your Saint Laurent boots.” Taehyung tells him, nonchalantly, back at work on the grill.

“Bro, it’s like, 30 degrees outside. Take those off.” Jungkook adds.

“Do not address me, flip flop man.”

Taehyung’s head snaps. “Hey, what’s wrong with flip flops?”

Jimin scans him from head to toe, stopping at his feet. “Everything.” And like that, he’s gone.

Taehyung and Jungkook return to grilling duties, diligently at work and in total silence for a couple of minutes, so as to recover from Jimin’s brutal abuse towards their choice of shoewear.

It’s Taehyung that breaks the silence first.

“So… you and __, seems like it’s getting pretty serious, huh? Plus, you’re happy. I can tell. We all can, to be fair.”

He laughs, and when he does, it has a bite to it Taehyung wasn’t expecting. “So, I get laid and it shows?”

Jungkook doesn’t mean it. Not the words he uttered, or the edge that laces his voice. Not even the breath he took right before he spewed their venom. He regrets it the moment they leave him.

Taehyung winces. “What the hell was that, man?”

“What exactly?”

“I’d like to believe you’ve passed the point of just fucking ___.” Taehyung can’t even call you the nanny anymore, his words faltering for a second before saying your name.

Jungkook chuckles, and again, he doesn’t mean it. His friend can tell, which concerns him more. He wouldn’t press if he didn’t know he was lying through his teeth, lacing it with fire just to reinforce a point he didn’t believe himself.

“So, when she stays the night, what exactly do you think we do?”

Taehyung shakes his head and it’s him who’s chuckling this time. “You’re such a pussy.”

Jungkook’s head snaps fast, an immediate frown taking over his features. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“You know what it fucking means. You’re a pussy. Love looks you right in the eyes and you fall into the most cliché tale of fearing it so much it makes you, quite frankly, an asshole.” Jungkook winces at the word love, though Taehyung doesn’t notice – heavily invested in shaking some sense into him.

“I’m not going to sit here and pretend what it feels like,” he continues, voice taking on a softer tone. “To lose something so abruptly that it makes you feel like everything that follows will hold the same fate. You didn’t have a choice – when you gathered all that strength and courage for Soori, you didn’t have a choice. You gave her love when life was throwing the opposite your way, that was brave. Do the same for yourself. That same courage, choose it.” He throws a punch at his chest, right where his heart is – it’s not forceful but it makes the youngest tumble backwards slightly.

Jungkook stares at his friend, his heart taking on a wave of feelings that pass him by too quickly for him to grasp, let alone process. It’s anger first, sadness following, and when it crashes, they land in fear. Square one, too weak to say much, he just stares at Taehyung – his expression dumbfounded but above all, pained.

For a second, as Taehyung stares into his eyes, he sees a wide-eyed twenty-year-old Jungkook. Puffy cheeks and cherry hair, a heartthrob to everyone’s knowledge but his own, making him all that more charming. Jungkook tries to find words – anything to form a shield, to dismiss his friend’s words and take the easy route out of this conversation, this feeling, you. But in an instant, he’s reminded of how hard “easy” can be. How much pain comes with the strain of fighting and how the other side of that pain can be almost sweet – vulnerability.

The words that follow make Taehyung feel nostalgic.

“I talked to my dad – well, more like- he talked to me.” Taehyung nods, already knowing where this is going. “He knows. About __.”

“Okay… and what seems to be the problem?”

“In his eyes, everything. It almost felt like he was putting some sort of blame on me, for everything that happened with Ira. How it affected our family,” Jungkook pauses, the word family leaving his lips in a tremble. “They think she’s going to cause the same societal hysteria – if not worse. The CEO dating the nanny.” He huffs, shaking his head in disbelief and even though he laughs, it lacks humor.

Taehyung’s one for big words but quite frankly, what he says next is the most accurate answer he can find, looking at his friend in the eyes as he says, “So?”

Jungkook looks at him, hesitating for a moment. “What do you mean so?”

“I don’t believe for a second that you just took his opinion and went with it. I don’t believe for a second you just agreed with him. Not even to get him to stop talking. I know you better than that.”

“I didn’t.”

“Exactly. So, what seems so be the problem, because your parents trying to discipline the twenty-eight-year-old? I’m not buying it.” Jungkook holds his gaze for a second before it drops to the floor, shoulders dropping in defeat as a sigh follows. “Life gets hard and the way things come to be, the circumstances we face, yeah – those are hard. But never loving. Loving is easy. That’s why it’s worth it.”

Jungkook’s about to tell him that a week ago, you told him you loved him, and that he didn’t quite know if you meant it. He’s about to tell him that he didn’t say it back – that fear got the best of him. That all the possibilities of everything that could go wrong presented themselves to him like a movie. Frame by frame, so vividly that it physically pained him, making his body grow rigid and cold. He’s about to tell him that the biggest fear of it all was the possibility of you leaving, just like Ira did. But it’s right in that moment that he hears Soori’s shriek. It startles him at first, he thinks something must’ve happened to her, that she’s hurt, or perhaps just fuzzy and needs him. He drops the tongs he’s holding and is ready to run over to her. And then he sees you, fully stopping in his tracks when he realizes she’s perfectly fine – she was just excited to see you.

Kenny hands her over and you take her into your arms, rocking her from side to side as you hug her to you. You feather kisses all over her face but she barely lets you, too excited and jumpy in your hold. She points at the red balloons that adorn the garden and you go wide eyed in excitement. Dae runs over to you and you kneel down, Soori still in your arms, and bring him in for a hug. He tells you things that Jungkook can’t make out from a distance but he, too, is going wide eyed in excitement. You motion to a box that sits by the sofa, neatly gift wrapped in Iron Man print. He claps and jumps and takes you by the hand, walking you to the table that holds all his birthday gifts. It’s only after you’ve helped him place your gift at the very top – as per his request – that your gaze finally meets Jungkook’s.

You look beautiful, and when you smile at him he can feel his heart physically stop for a beat too long. Your long hair dances in the wind, and some gets tangled in Soori’s fingers. Even she looks at you in awe. You’re wearing a sage green summer dress that hugs your body in all the right places and then just flares out, accentuating that contrast you naturally hold. Very sweet but so very woman.

He could stare at you for hours.

And for his despair, for the most time, he does.

You do a great job at seamlessly avoiding Jungkook.

Now, it’s not that you want to avoid him. It’s more so that you don’t know how to face him. You’re afraid that anything he says or does could trigger a response inside of you that you won’t be able to control. Perhaps you’ll cry, or snap at him. Perhaps you’ll go completely mute. At this point, you don’t know. You tell yourself this is the price you pay for leaving a feeling untreated. But what could you do if the treatment to your feelings is standing at 5 foot 10 in total oblivion?

That much you know. Jungkook is oblivious as to how you really feel. And you can’t fully blame him for this because a. You’re the one that said he didn’t have to say anything in return and, b. Oblivion makes him look so small in your eyes. I mean, you’re out here sitting with your female rage, plotting his revenge, laughing a little too hard when he steps on a lego – in full Iron Man costume, may you add – and he just doesn’t get it. He doesn’t know. Because if he knew, he wouldn’t be stealing glances your way. Or letting his hand linger a little too close to yours when you stand next to him as Dae and his friends tell you what they’re reading in school. Or when you pass Soori to him, your arms getting tangled together. Or when you both reach for the same cupcake, the same glass of wine, the same deviled egg! He lingers like you often do when you’re in public and have to be kept a secret. When touch and proximity are scarce and you have to milk every touch, every word, every glance.

In Jungkook’s eyes, your distance is simply discretion, because for Jungkook, your words were a heat of the moment thing. A testimony of how good you two had made each other feel. I mean, despite the way your words affected him and welcomed a new set of fears he wasn’t quite planning on having with you, he let you get away with it. He felt, in a way, that he was doing you a favor. I mean, you did sound embarrassed and almost avoidant when you said it. So why press on it? Why put the two of you through the stress of having to navigate your feelings? All of this made total sense to him when he woke up Sunday morning and decided to not give his mental chaos another thought. Why would he, when he could just enjoy you instead?

Despite said female rage, the day turns out to be magical. Dae’s charmed by all the love he receives and even takes a power nap halfway through it all because he’s so exhausted from fun and play. But once he’s up, he’s unstoppable again. Running, swimming, singing and dancing, his fifth birthday party is a success. And now, with sun kissed noses and sugar rushes, his friends begin to say goodbye one by one. This is your queue, you think, and you walk over to Mai to thank her for having you.

“What? No! Don’t leave now. The party’s just getting started. For us, at least,” she winks at you, motioning to the glass of wine she holds. It’s apple juice, only you don’t know this.

“Uh,” you can’t come up with any excuses.

“Plus! Don’t you wanna stay to see Dae opening his presents? It’s my favorite part of the day.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to intrude-” you know that for Soori’s birthday at least, that moment happened after all the guests had left, and it was just their close group of friends. You feel out of place.

“Nonsense. He wants you here. We all do. I do,” she grabs your hand in hers and you give her a little nod before she’s dragging you back to the party.

You enjoy yourself more than you’d expected. In between conversations, left over finger food and really good wine, the evening passed you by. You enjoyed getting to know everyone better and found particular joy in seeing them in this dynamic they seemed to be very familiar with. Of course, this was all accredited to the years they’d spent together. You couldn’t help but find it quite amazing; the fact that the majority of them had known each other since high school, all through college and adulthood. Parenthood, too, for some of them. Every act of service, word spoken and inside joke was laced with something that words couldn’t quite describe, but if you were to try, you’d label it as family. Simple as that. They were family. Seeing how quickly Lucy was weaving her way into their friendship group made you feel so happy for her. And it was in that instant that something told you that she’d stay forever. Not a doubt of it. She belonged – here, with Jimin, surrounded by love and family. She just belonged.

Dae opened his presents and each reaction was better than the last. He was in a total high and the only thing that made winding him down for bed easier was Mai telling him that the faster he went to bed, the quicker he’d wake up to a room full of brand new presents he could play with all day long, if he so pleased. That and the fact that his cousins were staying the night and by the time Taehyung was done scattering his room with sleeping bags for the kids, the place looked like a campsite.

And so the night was drawing to an end as you all sat by the lounge area in Mai and Taehyung’s backyard. Music playing softly from the speakers, the half eaten Iron Man cake on the table and a string of memories recalled by each of them as they reminisced.

“Time flies,” Namjoon says.

“I can’t believe you were the first one to have a kid.” Yoongi tells him.

Hobi wraps his arm around Kenny, bringing her closer before he says, “how could you not? He’s always been very daddy.” They all laugh at his choice of words. “I didn’t mean it like that. Filthy minded, the lot of you.”

“I thought it’d be Jin,” Yoongi defends.

“Nah. I always knew it was gonna be Namjoon. You left us too soon, bro.” Jungkook says, wrapping an arm around him and pouting.

“Excuse me?” Iseul gasps, scowling at him from the warmth of Namjoon’s embrace, at the other side of him.

Jungkook smiles at her cheekily, pout growing even more. “I love you. You know that. Matter of fact, you left us too son, bro.” He says this to Iseul.

“Exactly. I was fun,” she says, crossing her arms as she falls back into the couch.

“You still are! We all still are!” Seulgi says, raising her glass. They all join, and you laugh as you hear them add commentary like, “yeah, but at what cost?”, “I have chronic back pain.” and, “I fell asleep five minutes into a movie last night.”

“God, I haven’t even been inside a club in years. What’s good nowadays? __? Lucy?” Jin asks.

You both look at each other, not very familiar with the clubbing scene anymore.

“Candied Star,” says Jimin, voice going low.

“Shame on you, bro.” Yoongi tells him.

“What the fuck is Candied Star?” Asks Hobi.

“It’s a club!”

“It sounds like the name of a very blonde, very busty 90s pornstar.” Says Mai and they all laugh.

“I actually used to love that place. It’s pink and excessive. And the DJ’s solid.” You say.

Jimin claps once, body jolting, having a full eureka moment. “We’re totally going tonight. Saturday’s are the best nights!”

“I’m so in. Taehyung’s fancy wine made me drunk, it’d be a waste to just go home.” Lucy adds.

“You’re welcome, kid.” Taehyung raises his glass in her direction.

“You coming, __?” Jimin asks you.

You can’t fight it when your eyes land on Jungkook. His are on you already and again, you both linger in held glances for a second too long. You know he can’t go as he has Soori tonight. And you know your female rage wants to keep at a distance from him, so this is the perfect escape plan. But your heart takes one look at him and you want no more than to go back home with him. Have him all to yourself, crawl under a blanket with him and just hug him to you in a way that says, “I’ve been wanting to do this all week.”

“I’m in!”

And that’s the thing about untreated feelings: they rebel against you, even if the heart is waving white flags.

See, you might not be one for crowded spaces and shitty music. You might be an Elton John fanatic, technology denier, gardening grandma attire wearer old soul. This might all be true, yes. But right next to that truth coexists a side of you that simply can’t help but love the fact that you’re twenty three. You’re twenty three and that means that on a saturday night, your responsibilities are at the bottom of the pyramid. You’re twenty three and there’s something about tonight that exacerbates the fact that you’re young and can allow yourself to be a little stupid.

Candied Star is exactly what you described it as: pink and excessive. You hadn’t been here in months and perhaps that’s what makes it all the more alluring. You swiftly make it inside, courtesy of Jimin, who has a certain power over every bouncer and PR in the city. You could get used to the VIP treatment, if you were to confess. The line was going down a mile and you could see it from the taxi as you made your way to the club. The music is good from the get go and nothing about the atmosphere feels menacing or intimidating. Candied Star is for the cool kids. And what you mean by that is, Candied Star is for the girls, the gays and the allies. Nothing about this place caters to the male gaze and in a way, it’s so freeing.

The moment you step foot inside you begin to let loose, and it’s not too long after that you’re being found by a troop of beautifying fairy godmothers that circle around the three of you, bedazzling your faces until the strobes inside the club hit you and you’re drenched in glitter and sparkling. The music aids the cinematic feeling of the night and when Jimin hands you a drink, it’s pink and shiny and you don’t know why but it just makes sense that it is. “It’s strawberry gin,” he says and you all bring your glasses together and cheer for a cause you’re not aware of but that demands celebration as you scream and sing and dance.

By your third sparkly, strawberry gin, you’re the life of the party.

No, really. You are.

“I didn’t know __ had that in her!” Jimin says to Lucy, who admires you in awe.

“Oh, but she does,” she yells over the loud music.

The same people that put beads and glitter on your face are the ones that encourage you to get on top of one of the tables and give it your all. You’re not much of a dancer but in that moment, something in you releases in screaming color. Maybe it’s the song that plays that you vow to never forget. Maybe it’s the smiling faces that surround you and cheer you on. Perhaps it’s finding Jimin and Lucy in the crowd, smiling at you. You beckon them over and it takes them a while to get the hint but when they do, the crowd is parting for them and they’re being cheered on. You help them get on the stage – yes, a table, but it’s your stage – and you dance. You dance and sing and yell words to songs you didn’t even know you knew, or that maybe you thought you’d forgotten.

But how could you forget? How could you forget how young you once were? How could you forget how young you are now?

Jungkook rocks Soori from side to side, bottle in hand as she begins to drift off in between suckles. The way she fights sleep to keep eating makes him giggle and when he does, her eyes snap open once again, seemingly more alert than the last time.

“Shh, shh… sorry, baby. Sleep,” he whispers and his voice soothes her as he feels her little body relax in his arms.

Night feeds are a rare occurrence nowadays but today was an exception. She’d had a fun day outside of her routine and the moment Jungkook had parked the car on his driveway, she’d woken up, more alert than ever. So here they were, in the middle of her nursery as Jungkook added a little bounce to his step the closer she got to finishing her bottle; the rhythm he’d mastered and could confirm worked like a magic trick to put her out cold and fast.

He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t enjoying this moment. She was growing way too fast before his eyes and these moments reminded him of when she was a little baby. When she depended on him way more than she does now. When she couldn’t crawl, let alone be so close to walking as she was now. Her eyes open yet again and he looks at her, smiling. She smiles back and he starts humming a soft melody in hopes of putting her to sleep. It has no rhyme or direction and he tries to think of something. He sings to her, and it’s a song he’s heard you sing to her, too.

Jesus freaks out in the street

Handing tickets out for God

Turning back, she just laughs

The boulevard is not that bad

Piano man, he makes his stand

In the auditorium

Looking on, she sings the songs

The words she knows, the tune she hums

She finishes her bottle, eyes blinking once, twice, before her long eyelashes meet her cheeks. She nuzzles her face closer to Jungkook’s chest and his heart breaks and mends all in the span of a second. He sings softer this time.

But, oh, how it feels so real

Lying here with no one near

Only you, and you can hear me

When I say softly, slowly

Hold me closer, tiny dancer

Count the headlights on the highway

Lay me down in sheets of linen

You had a busy day today

Hold me closer, tiny dancer

Count the headlights on the highway

Lay me down in sheets of linen

You had a busy day today

Soori falls into deep sleep and Jungkook holds her. He lets himself have her in his arms for a little longer. He thinks of all the parenting books he’s read in the past year or so, making himself chuckle as they would absolutely not approve of this. But he doesn’t care. He knows he’s doing the right thing. And perhaps he didn’t know this a couple of months back – a couple of months back he felt like he couldn’t get anything right – but now, looking down at her, he feels confident. He knows he’s doing the right thing because Soori? Soori is perfect. Soori is the best thing he’s ever been good at. Soori is his biggest and most exciting project. And as she sleeps soundly in his arms, it hits him. He’s doing a good job.

He sings the same song to her two, three… four times. On and on. And at some point, the words start catching up to him in memories of you. He doesn’t want to sulk. He knows you should, as a matter of fact, be out there, having fun with your friends and dancing the night away at some club with a questionable name. But he can’t help but miss you. He thinks of you, because lately, every corner of his house reminds him of you. And yes, it aids his sulking but it’s also nice to just picture you everywhere. He thinks of you rocking on Soori’s chair, watching them, you’d probably be singing along with him. Or perhaps you’d be in his room, waiting for him on his bed, a book in hand, because you always carry one in your bag.

He laughs as he remembers a conversation you’d had with Lucy right before you left for the club.

“Wait, I’m not very dressed for the club…,” you say.

Lucy looks at you, huffing. “You’re never dressed for the club.”

“No, Lu, seriously. I have a copy of Sense and Sensibility in my bag right now.”

“I guess Jane Austen is coming to Candied Star, then!”

And it was so you. Jungkook had never read Jane Austen, but the title alone was so very you.

Finally, he’s putting Soori in her crib, making sure she has all her friends around in case she wakes up through the night and double checking the baby monitor before he’s gently closing the door of her nursery after he takes one last glance at her. He can’t see much, just one of her cheeks pressed against the mattress from between the wooden bars of her crib. He laughs softly, nose scrunching in endearment.

He walks inside his room, retrieving his phone from his back pocket and throwing it on his bed. He’s about to turn around but he deflects, reaching back for his phone. He’s got a couple of notifications adorning his home screen – Mai had sent pictures from today to their group chat, his mom had texted him saying they needed to talk and he had a couple of work emails he did not want to get into right now – but none from you. Jungkook sighs, throwing his phone on his bed once again and making his way to the bathroom.

He showers, taking his time to take the day off. Standing in front of the massage jets for a long time and in days like these, time felt like a luxury. He washes his hair, his body, lets the water run down on him. He takes his time and once he’s done, he walks over to his bed, tapping on his phone in quiet hopes that he’ll see your name on his screen. Nothing. He grabs the device to put it to charge but he changes his mind halfway through, bringing it with him to the bathroom.

He brushes his teeth, washes his face, does his skincare. A notification pops up. It’s from The New York Times. He rolls his eyes, staring at the screen until it goes blank. He tells himself not to act so childish. He brushes his hair, applies three different products he doesn’t quite know the purpose of. He taps on his phone again, even though he knows he’s not going to find anything new. And he doesn’t.

He doesn’t and he shouldn’t.

Jungkook doesn’t want to pry you away from the fact that you’re twenty three years old, and that you should be doing exactly what a twenty three year old should be doing on a saturday night. God knows nobody stopped him, so he doesn’t want to stop you. But he’d be lying if he said that when Jimin invited you to the club, his blood went a little warm. Not fully hot, no. But a little warm. He wanted the night to wrap up so he could approach you and ask to give you a ride. No one would suspect, I mean, he was just doing you a favor, as your boss. But the moment he got you alone in his car he planned to kiss you until you had no choice but to follow him home. And he’d hold you and stare at you and kiss you until it paid for how little he got to do it this past week. He missed you. And he can’t stop thinking about how beautiful you looked today. At how beautiful you probably look right now, dancing and smiling. Probably a bit tipsy by now because he knows how much of a lightweight you were.

He gets in bed, attempting to get comfortable under the covers. He turns the TV on, plays the cooking channel, dims the lights, then turns them off. He puts his phone on Do Not Disturb but then chooses against it, just in case. Just in case you called him, giddy and with slow, slightly slurred sentences like you had that one time. And if that were to be the case, he’d ask you to come over. He’d feed you carbs, get you in the shower, in his bed. And then tomorrow he’d wake up next to you and- he stops himself. Because if he lets his mind go any further, he’s gonna be the one calling you. And asking you to come over – begging for it if need be.

But even in his rationality, he hopes. Fighting sleep, just in case.

You never call.

“Pretty,” you say. Because it is. The city, the lights, even as they pass you by faster than you’d like. Your head is out the window, merciless wind hitting your face as the car picked up speed, making your hair dance behind you and your eyes water, smudging the glitter that adorned your cheeks.

“It certainly is, but hey, __, maybe get back in here?” Lucy tries to reason with you, but it’s to no avail because your arm joins your head and the way the air feels like a heavy mass attempting to go through you is almost hypnotizing.

Jimin peeks from his seat next to the other window. He giggles when he sees you mid trance. “Is her seatbelt on?”

“Yeah,” Lucy says as she tries to pull you back in.

“Leave her be, babe. She’s having a cinematic moment.”

“I’m scared she’s gonna want to jump out or something.”

Jimin laughs at this. “She won’t. Come here.”

And so Lucy does, stealing glances your way from time to time to make sure you’re doing okay and won’t do anything crazy like fly out the window.

That’s not what you want, though. You’re simply admiring the view. It feels so good. It feels so good to forget about what pains you for a night. It feels so good to not think about him, even though this thought alone requires you to think about him. You chuckle. Who cares? You’re not thinking about him, even if you are. Your drunken state tells your brain that you’re free of the Jungkook chaos you’ve been in for what feels like way too long. And when your heart tries to meddle, telling you not to be such a fool and reminding you that a week ago you poured your heart out to him, told him the biggest, most important words – the ones you searched for the most in your love stories – right around this time. Who cares? Who cares, you keep reminding your heart, demanding it to let it go, even if just for tonight.

“We can cry tomorrow,” your voice is but a whisper that gets muffled by the wind, one that only you can hear. “Who cares tonight? Who cares, who cares, who cares…”

You can hear the beginning chords of a melody that you think you recognize coming from inside the car, but you can’t quite put your finger on it. It comes to you slowly though, and when you almost have it, you look behind you and see Jimin and Lucy singing along to the beat of the song. And then it hits you. Your body is inside of the car and you lean forward, hand on the driver’s shoulder.

“Oh my God,” you say to him, “you’re speaking to my soul! And I don’t know if I like it. Turn it up.” He smiles, chuckling at your words before his hand reaches for the console, the song resounding all through the car.

You lean back on the seat, looking at Lucy before linking your arm with hers. The three of you sing, loud and drunk and happy.

You can kiss a hundred boys in bars

Shoot another shot, try to stop the feeling

You can say it's just the way you are

Make a new excuse, another stupid reason

Good luck, babe (well, good luck), well, good luck, babe (well, good luck)

You'd have to stop the world just to stop the feeling

Good luck, babe (well, good luck), well, good luck, babe (well, good luck)

You'd have to stop the world just to stop the feeling

Your head pounds and at first, you don’t understand why. But it pounds so hard it snaps you back into consciousness. Once you are relatively awake you understand why. Not only are you deadly hungover but you’re also in the middle of what you can only describe as chaos. Your window is wide open and there must be a traffic jam going on outside because cars are honking left and right. Elton’s halfway through Tiny Dancer because clearly the first minute of that didn’t do its job at waking you up, and there’s a knock at your door.

“Come in,” you say, as you switch off your alarm and try to drown out the outside noises by putting a pillow over your head.

“Good morning, lover.” Lucy enters your room, and when you glance at her from an inch left uncovered by your pillow, you see she’s holding a tray. Iced americano, avocado toast and a sunny side up egg that smells delectable are just a couple of things that make her the best friend in the whole world this morning. The second one is the fact that she’s closing your window and suddenly, it’s peace, quiet and a feast in your room.

“I’ve done nothing to deserve you.”

“You’ve done plenty.” She smiles and it’s sweet, just like every inch of her.

“Good morning, dancing queen.” Jimin waltz inside your room, shirtless and with Lucy’s cow print fuzzy headband on his head.

“I shouldn’t have to see this first thing in the morning, but it’s the price I pay for dancing on top of tables like God did not intend.”

“Oh, no. I think God was in that room last night.”

“Babe,” Lucy whines. “Leave her alone!”

“Why? It was fun! You’re fun, __. You should come out with us more often, they gave us a bunch of free drinks just because we knew you!”

You throw your pillow at him and he shrieks and runs away. Both you and Lucy laugh at his theatrics.

“1 to 10 how much did I embarrass myself last night?” You ask as she hands you your pillow back and you return it to its rightful place over your head.

“Like, minus 0. You genuinely were the life of the party. All you did was dance and drag everyone along!”

“I’ll believe you. Thank you for breakfast, Lu.”

“Of course,” she smiles. “Hey, Jimin and I are going to his parent’s beach house for the week. We leave today.” She almost looks apologetic when she says it.

“That sounds so nice, Lu.”

“Yeah,” she says, and her voice takes on the tone she uses when something floats above her head in worry.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I am. But,” she pauses for a second, looking into your eyes. “Are you?”

“Me?” You ask, incredulous and you can see it in her face – how little she buys your act. “I’m fine, Lu. Just tired. It’s been a long week and honestly I probably just need some rest. I’ll try and take loads of naps today.”

She just stares at you for a couple of seconds, deciding your fate. Will she let it slide? Will she press? Will she give you the words of comfort you’re so very sure could make you cry right now and dismantle your lies?

“You should try and get as much rest as you can.” And the only reason she says that is because they’re running late.

“And you have fun,” you hug her. “Don’t worry about me, seriously. I’ll rest loads and probably clean around, do some laundry, maybe get some writing done. Ooh, I could meal prep for the week!”

You lose a sock on your way to the living room from the kitchen. It makes you stop in your tracks as you glance back and try to see where you’d left it. But it’s nowhere to be found. Oh, well. You shake the can of whipped cream you’d retrieved from the fridge, the cherry on top the most perfect Ben & Jerry’s flavor that has ever existed – chocolate fudge brownie, of course. Your mouth waters at the mere thought and you can’t resist the temptation of having whipped cream at such close proximity and so you swirl a hefty amount inside of your mouth. In perfect cinematic nature, the song that you’ve had on repeat for the past forty five minutes breaks into the chorus (yet again) and now the whipped cream can is your microphone and this living room is your stage.

You said, "Baby, no attachment"

Your voice is hoarse, the remnants of yesterday’s fun and today’s chaos.

But we're

You trip on an iPhone charger and it almost sends you flying. But it doesn’t, so you take the opportunity of being jolted forward to add flair to your performance.

Knee deep in the passenger seat and you're eating me out

Is it casual now?

Two weeks and your mom invites me to her house on Long Beach

Is it casual now?

I know what you tell your friends

It's casual, if it's casual now

Then baby, get me off again

If it's casual, it's casual now

You don’t realize you’re crying until the tears touch your lips, warm and salty and it only makes you sing louder because at this point, you’re just letting yourself go a little insane in the privacy of your own home and the solitude that has been granted to you this sunday morning. So you eat ice cream at 11 a.m. and listen to feminine rage songs. More like, one single feminine rage song. And the more you sing it, the sadder it gets. The girls aren’t enraged. The girls are just sad.

I fucked you in the bathroom when we went to dinner

Your parents at the table, you wonder why I'm bitter

Your hands come up and you spin as you sing and cry.

Bragging to your friends I get off when you hit it

I hate to tell the truth, but I'm sorry dude you didn't

I hate that I let this drag on so long, now I hate myself

I hate that I let this drag on so long, you can go to hell

The song ends and a second later, it starts again. You let it. Most of the lyrics don’t even apply fully to your situation and you can begin to recognize this as your steam is blown and you tire yourself out. And yeah, the lyrics may not all apply to you but some do and it feels good to scream them out loud and to get mad.

You send a flying kiss to Chappell Roan and thank her for her services.

“God, you’re such an asshole.” Your words are directed at Mr. Darcy, who’s been getting on your nerves for the past hour or so. “But you’re so beautiful. And I know deep down you’re a good man.” And it’s then that your eyes begin to well up yet again. Pride and Prejudice always gets to you.

Your eyes leave the TV screen for a split second so you can draw your head back and take a bite out of your pizza. It’s delicious – cheesy and delicious, and just what you need. Dancing, singing and crying must burn more calories than you think because that was a workout and now you were exhausted and famished, even though you were halfway through your pizza already.

“I mean, there you are! With your stupidly good looking face and your bad manners,” you point at Mr. Darcy on the screen. “And all because you can’t tell the girl you love her! Elizabeth, you deserve be-”

Halfway through your speech, you get interrupted by the insistent buzzing that comes from your phone. Your eyes scan the couch on the search for it but it’s nowhere to be found. You shove blankets and pillows aside and the more it buzzes, the more frantically you search. You find it under your pizza box right before it’s about to disconnect, quickly sliding your finger across the screen so you can answer the call, not having time to second glance at the contact.

“Hello?!” You yell into the receiver.

You hear Jungkook chuckle from the other end of the line and you quite literally choke on your spit, making you cough wide eyed and surprised. “Woah, woah. You okay?”

You hate that he cares. And you hate his little chuckles and how quickly he can disarm you because you feel the way your voice is about to go soft on him. You make sure to clear your throat (and shake the softness off) before replying.

“Yeah, yeah. I just have a bit of a sore throat.”

“So it was a good night, I presume.”

“Yeah, actually. The best.”

Your words are fast and sharp and Jungkook feels the sting. But nonetheless, he’s still oblivious. He blames the sting on his own childish ways of missing you too much even though he’d seen you every day this week. He blames it on the part of him that went to bed last night stubbornly wishing you’d be next to him. And so he opts to be bigger and better than his feelings, collecting himself before he responds.

“I’m glad, baby.” You’re quiet on the other end of the line. “Hey, so… we were just at brunch with my parents.”

“How’d it go?”

“Same old,” and it was true. It’d been awkward at first but then simply filled with small talk and the three of them swooning over Soori, to Jungkook’s fortune. “But I was thinking maybe I could pick you up and you could come over? We could lay by the pool, I could make us some dinner later…”

Your eyes scan the room. They land on the pizza box and then on Mr. Darcy on the TV, mid-sentence in what is probably useless words because none of them are what he actually feels.

“I have a terrible hangover, being out by the sun would probably make it worse.”

“That’s ‘kay. We could watch movies instead.”

You sigh, your heart breaking at your coldness when you say, “I’ve had a long week, I think it’d be better if I just took it easy today and got some rest. I’m sorry.”

And as oblivious as Jungkook could be in the moment, no oblivion could stand between him and the way your words break something inside his heart in more ways than just disappointment.

“Oh,” is all he can say.

“But you guys have fun, okay? Give Soori kisses from me and enjoy the water. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Y-yeah. Yes. I’ll see you tomorrow, baby.” Jungkook wonders why the pet name he’s grown so familiar to calling you feels so foreign as they pass his lips now. “Bye.”

You linger. You wait, in silence, the soft static and words left unsaid.

“Bye.”

I love you, I love you, I love you. I love you and I hate that you don’t love me back and I can’t do with hating that I love you and I could never do with hating you because I love you.

When you fall asleep around thirty minutes later, it’s with heavy eyes and tears you’d been collecting ever since. You fall asleep before Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth can get their happy ending.

Monday morning feels like hell. Getting out of bed feels nearly impossible and when you finally muster the strength to do so, you feel a headache coming up that threatens to linger for the whole day. You take some Tylenol, caffeinate yourself and eat whatever you can stomach. And since you hadn’t taken the time to make yourself an elaborate breakfast, you get fifteen extra minutes that you use to make yourself look better, in hopes that it helps you feel better. You take your time as you brush through your hair and get really close to the mirror as you apply your makeup, blending and dusting products on with more care than you have in years. You can feel the heat that takes on the day, despite it only being 7 a.m. and so when you stand in front of your closet you try to keep it light. You settle on a pink linen dress that’s a bit too short but still acceptable to go serve your duties as a nanny. And perhaps vanity could cure a broken heart because by the time you leave the house, your strut has a bit more of confidence to it and your mentality consists of more who cares rather than why me?

You settle on the bus seat, reaching for your book but there’s something about Sense and Sensibility you’re simply not in the mood for today. And so you put your headphones on and scroll through your playlists. You’re just a girl, so of course there’s a perfectly curated selection of songs for any occasion and so today’s choice is one titled so sad, so sexy. It’s feminine rage meets bad bitch anthems and your subconscious decides it’s this episode’s soundtrack.

Mrs. Chae greets you at the door, like every morning, only today she smiles a little wider.

“You look very pretty today, ___.”

You smile at her, asking her about her weekend as you make your way to the kitchen. You offer to make her some coffee as she gets Jungkook’s ready and it takes a little bit of insisting but she finally lets you treat her. As the minutes pass, though, you start feeling nervous. You hadn’t quite planned how you’d manage your feelings when you saw Jungkook this morning and every little noise has you jumpy and alert. You get Soori’s breakfast ready, cursing how quickly porridge cooks and your immaculate fruit chopping skills, because you’re done faster than you’d think and now you’re hands free and anxious again.

“Mrs. Chae, let me help you fold laundry.”

“Fold laundry?!”

“Yes! I’m quite good at it. I worked at a little boutique all through my teenage years.”

“No.”

“Please. Just Soori’s at least.”

She looks at you intently for about five seconds, narrowing her eyes. “Her clothes are in the pink basket.”

You do a little cheer and thank her and she shakes her head at you but you can see the way she smiles. You get to folding her tiny clothes, cooing at how cute and tiny they are. You laugh at how her funny t-shirts that have kermit the Frog, Bluey and Wonder Pets prints get mixed with her nicer pieces that are full of tulle and fancy fabrics or are full on designer. But your favorites are the mini versions of Jungkook’s clothes that he always pairs with pink bows or colorful socks. It makes your heart melt.

“Good morning,” Jungkook’s voice snaps you out of your trance. “Why are you folding laundry?”

“Don’t look at me, Mr. Jungkook,” Mrs. Chae defends, placing the tray that holds his iced americano on the kitchen island.

“It relaxes me,” you say, arms reaching for Soori who falls straight into them. “Good morning, munchkin. You hungry?”

“I have to leave now. Emergency meeting at the office.”

“But your coffee,” you hate that you care, but you do. Not to mention that it already worries you that it’s all he has for breakfast.

He doesn’t look up from his phone when he says, “At the office. Have a nice day, Mrs. Chae.”

You follow him as he makes his way to the door. You can tell he’s stressed just by being in his proximity and it almost reminds you of when you first started working for him, those very first cold and distant weeks. But when he turns around and takes Soori into his arms, he softens and grows mushy again.

“I’ll see you tonight, baby. Be good for daddy, okay?” He kisses her cheeks. “You’ve recovered, I hope.” He says this to you.

“Good as new.” You force a smile.

“I’m glad. I’m gonna be late again today, we’re hoping to close this deal this week and we’re in a time crunch. I’ve told Suelgi to pick Soori up in the afternoon-”

“What? Why?”

“Well, you stayed with her last week and-”

“Yeah, that’s my job. That’s what you pay me to do, remember? Also, it messes up with her routine so I’ll keep her and we’ll wait for you right here.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“___-” you don’t let him finish, fearing to fall into a conversation you can’t have right now. You grab the back of his head and bring him close to you until your lips are on his. You feel him relax against your touch and he deepens the kiss, even if for a brief second before you’re pulling away.

“Have a good day. We’ll see you tonight.”

On Tuesday you keep your anxiety at bay by making Soori a really elaborate breakfast. And you’re speaking the whole ordeal. Eggs, cherry tomatoes that you cut up really small, all her favorite assortment of fruits (blueberries, strawberries and pears), avocado that you mash and season with salt, pepper and lemon juice. You even cut her toast in tiny hearts that adorn the corners of her plate. When Jungkook walks inside the kitchen that morning, you’re getting started on her meal prep for lunch. Cooking for Soori wasn’t really on your job description but you liked to be as involved as you could in her feeding and so you’d silently taken on the responsibility. She liked to watch you cook, clapped along as you played music and danced around the kitchen, giving her a show.

You don’t hear him come in and Jungkook takes the time to let himself stare at you. Amidst the stress and exhaustion, you’re pure sunshine that creeps into his home each morning and for that he’s grateful. If yesterday you threatened to make him late for work, which he really couldn’t afford this week, today you’re making him wish he could throw all the contracts out the window and live in a world that rotated around your axis. He doesn’t know if it’s the way your lips are a tone redder today, or if it’s the way you have your hair up in a bun that somehow looks both disheveled and put together, thin strands of hair framing your face as you concentrate on the way your hands carefully peel the pear. You’re pouting, the way you often do when you’re focused on something and he thinks about how quickly he can get out of this kitchen so he can kiss you. You’re also wearing red, which is a color he doesn’t often see you sport but he makes a mental note to store it under favorites. Your dress is tight around your waist and then flairs out and he knows it’s short because the weather is hot and you know how to dress for it. Jungkook begins to feel hot, too. The straps are held by a bow that rests on top of your shoulders and one of them falls down your arm and he swears to himself this all just happened in slow motion.

“Mr. Jungkook, good morning.” Mrs. Chae places the tray on the kitchen island with a little more force than she’d originally intended. This makes you jump and it takes Jungkook about a beat too long to come back to his senses.

“Good morning,” he clears his throat when his voice falters.

Oh, damn you, Jeon Jungkook in dress pants and a white shirt that hugs your body a little too nicely to be true.

“Nana,” Soori shrieks, excited to see you as you walk over to them.

“Hi baby, I missed you.” The moment your arms outstretch towards her, she’s falling into them. You look at Jungkook. “Hey.”

“Hey- how are you?”

“I’m good. Did you sleep well?”

“I did, thank you.”

“Yeah.”

Both Mrs. Chae and Soori stare at the two of you in confusion.

“Nana,” this time she tries to get your attention, hitting you with her plush toy. You notice it’s shaped like a mille-feuille, courtesy of Lucy.

“Is she- is that what she calls you?” Jungkook asks.

“I don’t know… it’s the first time she does it more than once in a row.”

“Cute,” he says, smiling. His face grows serious again when he sees Mrs. Chae smirking from the corner of her eye.

“She’s cute. Want breakfast, baby?” And Jungkook is so entranced by you this morning he almost says yes. “We’ve got blueberries and strawberries and pears. Can you say pears?”

“Nana,” she smiles and is immediately forgiven.

When you’re by the door saying goodbye, Jungkook’s about to kiss you, and there’s nothing in the world he wants more right this second. And as he leans in and mentally chants victory, his phone starts ringing. It’s Jin, and he knows it’s important. He should’ve taken his call ten minutes ago. His eyes close for a second, sighing in frustration before he picks up the phone.

“Yeah, talk to me.”

You don’t mean to be so cruel, but alas, you smile.

On Wednesday, it’s Jungkook who opens the door for you and by the looks of it, he’s on his way out, phone pressed to his ear as he steps aside to let you in.

“Yeah, if you could please have those papers on my desk when I get there- yeah. Thank you, Kay. You’re the best.”

You roll your eyes, but it’s mentally. Inside your head so he can’t see. If you had a dollar for every time you’ve heard Jungkook say she’s the best you’d have two dollars, which is two dollars too many.

“Hey,” he says, eyes still on his phone as he reads what you can see is a really long email.

“Good morning. What’s going on?”

“I have to run. Soori’s in the kitchen, she’s had a bit of a rough morning. She’s having a bottle right now.” He types as he tells you this. You want to shake him and tell him to look at you.

“Is everything okay?”

His eyes meet yours. “Yeah, just- closing deals is hectic. That’s all. Everything okay with you?”

No.

“Yes.”

“Great.”

Great.

“Great!”

“I’ll see you tonight?”

“Sure.”

He presses his phone to his ear once again and turns around, walking towards his car, the loud beep startling you a bit as he unlocks it. You yell at him, mentally. Inside your head, so he can’t see.

Soori was in fact having a rough morning, and her mood lingers throughout the day. She was a really good, happy baby so on bad days like these you knew something had to be bothering her. You’d found the root of the problem in the middle of a very dramatic cry, as her head swung backwards and her mouth opened to let out a loud wail. Her first back tooth was coming in. She was in pain, rightfully so, and nothing quite pleased her but you tried to do your best. She got extra cuddles and an extra morning nap. You’d made her strawberry juice lollipops so she could chew on for relief and mostly let her play throughout the day. She wanted to be held for the most part, though, and you had to admit you weren’t about to complain. You loved when she let you hold her and hug her and squeeze her.

You’re halfway through a very softly sung version of Hey Jude when Jungkook calls you. It’s quarter past seven and you were winding down Soori for the night.

“Hi,” you say, voice a whisper so as to not wind her up.

“Hey. How are you guys doing?”

“Good. She’s getting sleepy, she’ll be out in the next twenty or so. Her first molar is coming in, that’s why she’s fuzzy.”

“Oh, shit. Should’ve thought of that.”

“She’s doing okay now. She just needed extra cuddles.”

“I wish I could’ve been there today. Thank you, ___.”

“My pleasure. How’s your day? It’s late… are you coming home soon?”

And Jungkook knows you’re not asking for any other reason other than the fact you care about him. About his wellbeing and peace of mind. You took care of him in more ways than you probably realized because it just came as second nature to you, to be so caring. You, on the other hand, can’t help the way your heart plays onto the little fantasy. The one in which you wait for him to come home – a home of your own. He comes home to you after a long day and you sit on the couch and order take out and you make sure he has dinner because, to be fair, you’re not sure he does when you leave at night and the worry follows you until you get home even though you know that he can’t go hungry for more than twenty minutes. But you care, so you worry.

Ugh!

“Yeah. I just have to go through,” he pauses, taking a look around him, “two more contracts. I’ll be there in about an hour or so.”

“I’ll give her a good night kiss from you.”

“Thank you, baby. I’ll see you soon.”

“See you,” and you hang up because if you don’t, you’ll fucking blurt those three words at him again, because in your little fantasy, it’s only natural. It’s only natural that you tell him you love him before you hang up the phone.

God, life was playing tricky, tricky games on your heart. Ones that you were out of ideas on how to defeat.

Soori had knocked out not too long after that. She’d been visibly exhausted from the discomfort and pain she’d carried all day and you could only hope tomorrow was better. You make a mental note to search up some toothing relief methods on your way home. You give her two forehead kisses before laying her down on her crib, placing her little mille-feuille plushie under her arm.

You make your way to the kitchen, turning on every light that you pass because if you were to be honest, Jungkook’s house intimidated you a little bit during the night. It was just so big and spacious, wide hallways that felt never ending. You liked how quiet it was, though. A sense of peace filling you as you put the kettle on to make yourself a cup of tea. His selection was impressive and you wondered why. You don’t think you’d ever seen him drink tea… you wonder if this was one of the remaining bits of Ira that still lingered around the house. There weren’t many, but it was impossible to fully erase her. There was a mug in the cupboards with the letter I and right next to it, one with the letter J. Her white Mercedes Benz that still sat on the driveway, too. And even though she’d cleared her clothes from the closet, you’d once seen a pretty black dress that you could only assume had once belonged to her.

You opt for a fancy looking ginger and lemon tea, taking your time to let the leafs brew in the hot water. Thinking of him, of her, of Soori. Of how much you’d weaved your way inside his home, his family, without the details of what landed you here in the first place. I mean, you know some of it, but not the whole story. And then again, how much of a story was there? Her departure had seemed final and abrupt and in your anger, you doubted her words and explanations truly mattered.

You move through the kitchen, down the dining hall and into the living room at a slow pace, taking it all in. You try to remember if you’ve ever been here alone, when it’s so empty and quiet but you can’t place any memory of the sort. You walk over to the big, tall bookshelf that stood against the wall. It was mostly for decoration, you’d assumed – a bunch of color coordinated books that matched the aesthetic of the living space perfectly. You recognize some titles and some others seem old. Pages on art, architecture, travel and fashion. Your eyes land on one that doesn’t seem to have a name, the spine empty in smooth leather. You reach for it, its weight sitting heavy on your hands. It was big, too and it looked like it held something important. Something that you couldn’t find in a bookshop or library. You know you probably shouldn’t, but your curiosity gets the best of you. You sit on the sofa, tea cup long forgotten on the table, lifting the heavy cover to reveal a white page that held a handwritten note.

To our Soori Blue,

Our darling girl, you are so very loved, and this is your story so far. This is where you come from and this is how you were loved from the very beginning, even before you were here. When you were but a little star waiting in the sky for your mommy and daddy to multiply the love they have for each other to make you. You’re born from love, Soori, and your parents are proof of that, because they love each other so very much. Waiting for you was hard because we couldn’t wait to hold you and getting to be your Godparents is one of our biggest blessings. You are so loved, you are so special and you will always have us.

Love,

Auntie Mai and Uncle Taehyung

You turn the page, a picture of Jungkook and Ira taking most of the frame. They’re pulling faces as they pose for the camera and behind them is the city skyline and a sunset that paints the sky pink and orange. She blows a kiss and Jungkook throws a peace sign as he winks. Under the picture, a caption in neat black font that reads, “this is from the day your mommy and daddy first met. Everyone says it was instant: how they fell in love. I bet they would’ve not believed it if they knew that only a couple of years later, you’d be here!”

The next picture is a magazine cover, Ira gracing the page, her long, blonde hair dancing in the wind, eyes not fully meeting the camera as she smiles. She looks carefree and young, a beautiful blue dress adorning her body, making her blue eyes shine even from a distance. “This is your mommy. Isn’t she so beautiful? She’s smart, funny, kind and loved by many people around the world. But no one loves her the way we do!”

You turn the page, a picture of Jungkook standing in front of The West End, bright smile on his face. “This is your daddy. He’s really good at his job! He’s funny, cool and generous. He can’t stay still and he’s good at everything he does, first try! We love him a lot.”

Their relationship pans over the years as you leaf through the pages. Ira and Jungkook at the beach, in very many destinations around the world, on Christmas and holidays, with their families and friends, in the comfort of their home and in events and galas. The day they made their relationship official, accompanied by, “it was out of a fairytale!” and birthday celebrations that said, “your daddy spoils your mommy so very much, we’re kinda scared he’ll do the same with you!” as Ira poses in rooms filled with roses and balloons and boxes full of presents.

You pay particular attention at a picture of Jungkook and Ira, a selfie that seems to have been taken on film. They’re in the kitchen, bright smiles and red, puffy eyes, like they’d been crying. “On this morning, your mommy and daddy found out about you! They were a little scared, but so very happy. You filled them with light, Soori. Just look at those smiles! They couldn’t wait to hold you – it was going to be nine long months!”

Then it’s all of them, out in the garden, Ira in the middle as they point to her stomach. “And on this day we found out about you! We were so happy!! We’d never seen your mommy and daddy so excited, you had a closet full of clothes already and they didn’t even know if you were a girl or a boy yet!”

Ira in an ultrasound, “your mommy and daddy were so happy to hear your heartbeat for the first time.”

Jungkook kissing her stomach, “deep down, your daddy always knew you were a girl. Your mommy was convinced you were a boy, though!”

Jungkook and Ira standing in the garden, pink confetti flying over them. “You’re a girl, Soori Blue!!!!”

The pictures progress with the passing of time, each one with a caption full of hope and love. A picture of Soori as a newborn representing her birth, a carbon copy of Jungkook that makes your heart seize inside your chest. Then pictures of her with her uncles and aunties, their families, Jungkook and Ira, who kiss her each on one cheek in the majority of them. You miss the way Ira smile changes, the way her gaze looks empty after a while. All you see is love, what Soori is truly made of.

You blame your next thought on how overly emotional this past week has been, how tumultuously you’ve experienced every feeling.

“There’s all types of love, but never the same love twice.”

You wonder if that had been it for Jungkook. If he would ever be able to experience the love he had for Ira again. You wonder if perhaps he’d ran out of love to give and if that was the case, you couldn’t blame him. You reach the final page; a picture of the three of them, Jungkook holds Soori in his arms and Ira wraps hers around them. She’s looking at him, a smile on her face as they stand in front of the sea. The water is blue and the day looks bright and they’re perfect. They’re love. The real kind, your brain argues. The kind that takes years to nurture, the kind that faces adversities and triumphs. The one that reproduces itself into the most perfect combination of every good thing about both ends. Soori is only a couple of months old but she smiles into the camera and for the first time, you see both Ira and Jungkook in her.

You’d placed the photobook right where you’d found it and for the past thirty minutes, you’d been staring at the glass doors that led to the garden, in complete silence, though your thoughts are loud. You don’t hear Jungkook come in and it’s only when he sits on the couch next to you that you fully notice his presence.

“What a fucking day,” he sighs, leaning back into the cushions and closing his eyes.

You look at him for a long time, and he doesn’t acknowledge your silence.

“You’re home now,” you say, even though it’s not the home you’d want it to be.

“Yeah,” he looks at you. “How’s Soo?”

“Good. Sleeping.”

“Thank you for staying with her.”

“Of course.”

“I’m fucking starving,” he says, sinking further into the couch, his head turning to face you. “You hungry? Want some ramen?”

You simply nod and that has him getting up from the couch, hand reaching for yours. You walk into the kitchen together, your fingers entwined in his and the simple act sends electric currents down your body. It’s funny how unaware you can be about touch until it’s the right person’s skin against your very own, because what you feel right now, you hadn’t felt in days.

You miss his touch instantly as he moves on to making dinner.

“How was your day,” you ask, because you’re tired of the silence, and you’re tired of putting in an effort at keeping your heart quiet.

“Long. And exhausting. Never ending, even.” And Jungkook doesn’t mean to whine and complain but then again, it’s not like he was lying. His day had been hell and just when he thought it was over, another problem presented itself right before his eyes.

“What exactly are you working on right now?”

He looks up at you before he says, “I’m buying land to build a hotel in the Alps.” You can’t help but chuckle. “Funny, huh?”

“Your live is unreal to me sometimes.”

He pours water into a pot, placing it over the stove to bring to a boil. He stalls for a minute, remembering where they kept the ramen packets. “Yeah, to me too.”

You point to the cabinets behind him, and he gives you a quick smile in acknowledgement.

“So, is that what’s taking up all of your time?”

“Yeah, sort of. It’s just a lot of politics and strategy. Meeting in the middle and settling and whatnot. Some of these people are so hard to negotiate with, though. They know real estate, but not hotels.”

“Well, I’d assume not many people do. And I’d assume what you know, you learned at a very young age.”

“Well, not quite. I wasn’t always interested in my field of work, believe it or not.”

“Nonetheless, you grew up around it.”

“So?”

“So, it’s a privilege that you have access to all of this knowledge. What you know- the way you know it, that can’t be taught in a classroom.”

“Well, no. It requires experience.”

Jungkook catches the way you roll your eyes, a huff leaving your mouth as you smile.

“What?” He says.

“Nothing.”

“It’s okay, you can say it.”

You raise an eyebrow in defense. “Say what?”

“You know, give me the whole nepotism talk.”

“I wasn’t going to do that.”

“Yeah, sure.” He smiles but there’s nothing soft about the action. “Dinner’s ready.”

You stand in deafening silence for a minute, eyes on his, like this is the beginning of something you won’t be able to stop without someone getting hurt.

“I think I’m gonna go home. I’m tired,” you say, turning around and getting ready to leave.

“Oh, come on.”

And that makes you stop in your tracks, turning so you can face him again, eyes narrowed and lips ready to spit venom if you so pleased.

“I don’t feel like fighting with you right now, Jungkook.” And you could’ve left it at that, and perhaps it would’ve been better, but you don’t. “Oh, wait. I don’t have to do that. Because you seem to know what I want to say.”

He walks closer to you and nothing in his face tells you he’s about to extinguish the flames that seem to grow taller between you.

“Your poker face isn’t all that good, baby.”

“I’m glad my intentions came across clear as day.”

He smiles, eyes diverting from you for a second before his gaze pierces yours once again. You inch closer to him and it’s barely noticeable, scowling back at him. Your blood feels hot and the flame grows bigger, more violent, only the fire gets lost in something else. Something that is only understood the moment Jungkook is pulling you closer and his lips are crashing onto yours in a kiss that makes the warmth travel throughout your body until the whole room is scolding hot.

Your lips part but a second as you catch your breaths, chests heaving in sync, impossibly close. You try to find words, form a thought, anything that could leave your lips in a coherent sentence but you’re left with nothing. Blank, red, heat. It’s all you can think about. Him and his proximity. When Jungkook diverts his gaze from your eyes to your lips, it’s you that crashes your lips to his once again, deepening the kiss as your fingers tangle in his hair. Both his hands wrap around your waist, squeezing at the flesh and he curses the fabric that comes between his fingertips and your skin. He longs to touch you, he longs to have you and his life was starting to feel like a waiting game when it came to you. He didn’t think he could go a second longer entertaining it.

He walks you backwards until your back hits the kitchen island, flushing himself to you until he’s pressing you against it. Your hands roam down his body, starting down his arms and up his torso, until they’re on his neck again and you wrap your arms around it, hugging him to you. His hands travel to your ass, squeezing before he’s picking you up and sitting you on the counter, taking one step closer so he stands snuggly between your legs as they close around him. And you kiss. You kiss with intention but no direction, his tongue parting your lips and meeting yours halfway – sloppy, messy, needy. His hands travel under your dress until he’s squeezing the flesh on your thighs, drawing you closer to him. You loose track of time, not a care in the world but his lips on yours and so does Jungkook, who doesn’t realize how much he’s aching for you until your hips are involuntarily grinding against his. His cock jumps and he’s more alert of you than ever, a throaty moan escaping his lips as you repeat the motion.

You feel it, too. And some part of your brain tries to tell you that your body’s betraying you. That you’re kissing him with the same mouth that holds secrets from him, anger even. But you don’t care. Your heart leaps the closer he pulls you in and your skin feels wired with electricity the more the sensation of wanting him begins to take over your body. You want him, you need him, and when he’s so supple for you the way he is now there’s no way you could deny yourself the pleasure of having him.

Your hand begins its descend, squeezing at the nape of his neck, down his chest and toned abdomen, taking a detour to untuck his shirt from under his pants, letting your hands roam inside, feeling his warm skin against them. You feel the way he sucks in a sharp breath, tummy caving in at your touch in anticipation. You smile against his lips and he kisses you harder, palms squeezing your flesh. You finally give him what he wants when your hand closes around his cock, making it pulse against the fabric of his pants. The moan that escapes his mouth borders on a whine and it’s so delicious it has you throwing your head back, eyes rolling to the back of your skull. His lips find your neck, kissing and sucking on the sensitive skin, rejoicing in the little whines that you let out at the feeling.

He breaks the kiss, reluctantly removing his hands from your body so he can unbutton his shirt, unable to handle the heavy nature the air has taken around him. You lean back, palms resting against the cool marble of the counter, cocking your head to the side and taking him in. You notice him noticing you, and you don’t miss the way he slows down his movements, taking his time all of a sudden, giving you a show. You smile, lip caught between your teeth and you feel the need to close your legs, an impulse reaction at the need of friction. Jungkook notices this, your body jerking slightly, face delirious, eyes desperate and he chuckles. It has bite and attitude, and you raise an eyebrow at him.

“Don’t get cocky now,” you say, brain short-circuiting when he finally removes his shirt.

“I won’t. Need you too badly to play games right now.”

His words barely register because as soon as they leave him, his lips are back on yours, twice as fervently as before, his purpose clear. You give into him, not wanting to play games either.

“I need you to touch me, Jungkook.”

His hand comes down to your breast, squeezing and pulling sweet little noises from you.

“Yeah, baby?”

Your hands find his waistband, undoing the button of his pants, his zipper following, until your hand is traveling down his boxers and gripping around his cock, making him hiss at the contact.

“Oh, fuck.” His voice is hoarse, deep. Your hand begins to move, thumb collecting the pre cum before you’re circling it around his tip. He bites your bottom lip as you begin to stroke languidly, applying pressure here and there, teasing him.

“Are you gonna fuck me in the kitchen, Jungkookie?”

“Yeah. It’ll ruin my mornings forever, though.”

You pout, mocking innocence. “Why’s that?”

“Every morning, when I walk in here,” his hands travel under your dress again, fingers toying with the waistband of your underwear. “I’m gonna see you behind this counter,” he kisses you, a gasp leaving your lips as he hooks his index finger down the side of your panties, a soft touch to your skin. “Making coffee, cooking breakfast.” His middle finger spreads your folds, a soft hum passing his lips when he notices how wet you are. “In your short little dresses, acting like you don’t know what you do to me.”

“I-I don’t,” and he doesn’t let you finish your sentence. Middle and index finger entering you slowly, eyes on yours as his face grows confused.

“You don’t?”

“N-no, mm, Jungkook,” you plead.

“Say please.”

“Please.”

“You’re so good, baby.” He kisses you, fingers picking up pace inside of you, finding that spot that has you arching your back for him in no time. “But you know what?”

“W-what?” Your eyes snap open, silently pleading that he doesn’t stop.

“I think you do know.” His fingers stop and he smirks when your face falls. Your eyes travel down, following the way his hand wraps around his cock, spreading your wetness all over it. “I think you know exactly what you’re doing.” He pushes your panties to the side before his tip teases your entrance, a moan escaping both your lips in unison. “And I think you like it.” He pushes inside of you and you sigh. He thinks it’s sweet, the way you react to him. You feel so good around him. He cups your cheek, pressing his forehead to yours before stealing a kiss from your lips. “Don’t you like it, baby?”

“Yes. I like it, fuck.” You don’t even knowing what you’re agreeing on at this point and you don’t care, too entranced by the way his cock stretches your walls so perfectly, hitting it so fucking good it’s almost like he was made for your pussy. And in this moment, Jungkook is sure of it.

“Shit, baby. You feel so good.”

And sure, Jungkook could fuck you at this leisurely pace for the rest of his life, getting to feel every inch of you until it drove him fucking insane. But he wanted more – he needed more – and the way you were digging your nails in his biceps told him that you did, too. When he pulls away, you whine, narrowing your eyes at him and then rolling them when he simply responds with a, “patience.” He wastes no time removing your panties, throwing them behind him before he hooks his hand under your knee, bringing your leg up until your foot is resting against the kitchen counter. He starts fucking you again, but harder this time and the angle is so fucking perfect you swear you begin to see stars in your eyes, feeling a bit lightheaded at the feeling. He kisses down your neck again, letting himself enjoy how good you sound, and how good you feel. How good your skin tastes on his tongue.

“Don’t stop, baby, oh my God.”

And so he locks in the pace, middle finger finding your clit and circling around it until he feels the way your body begins to shake in his hold, pussy clenching around him.

“Fuck, yeah, baby. Cum for me, ___.”

Your body shakes, moans getting louder as he kisses you and you can feel the way he smiles against your lips. He fucks you slow, letting you come down from your high, kissing you passionately and making your mind go hazy with every touch. Every little thing he does sends your mind into a frenzy and you fucking love the feeling. Your body is completely submitted to him, and you let him do whatever he wants to you. You let him kiss you, you let him hold you when he brings you down from the counter and your legs fail you. He laughs and you shush him and then you let him kiss you again. You let him turn you around, gently push you down until the upper half of your body rests against the cold marble. His legs part yours, hands uncovering you as he pushes your dress up and out of the way. He runs his hands down your body gently and you close your eyes, enjoying the moment, content little sighs leaving your mouth. He plays with your pussy, as he kisses down your back and when you begin to clench around his fingers, he fucks you like this. He goes hard, but he goes slow and he grunts when you throw your ass back, meeting him halfway. He spanks you once, twice, making you gasp and wish you had the strength to go for hours.

“I’m gonna cum, baby. God, you’re so fucking hot.”

“Please, Jungkook- I need it, please.”

And you’re so pliant, so willing to give him anything he wants. So willing to give yourself to him his cock and heart are basically battling for blood at this point.

“Nngh- I’m gonna cum.”

You feel his warmth hit your ass, some landing on your back, and it makes you giggle, feeling a tad bit delirious at how ridiculously good that can feel.

“Truce?” You look back at him, but he’s too enthralled by the way his cum paints your ass.

“Mhm,” he musters after a second too long.

“You’re such a boy.”

“And you have such a nice ass.”

He cleans you up with his shirt, helping you step inside your panties and even pulls them up himself. When he comes back up, standing in front of you, he kisses you. Not lustfully, not for the heat of the moment, but for something more. Something that says I’ve missed you. Your heart begins to transform into the odd shape it’d been in the past couple of days because all you can think of is how much you loved him right now. How much you’ve loved him, even amidst your anger and disappointment. You knew it, your body knew it, and now your heart was angry again.

“Stay the night,” he says. “We’ll tell Mrs. Chae that you got here earlier. Or we’ll sneak you out through a window, I don’t know. But stay.”

Jungkook is just trying to be funny, but his words hurt. And you know they shouldn’t. You know you’d agreed to take things slow, to let him heal and test the waters but your decisions had made you selfish and right now, you had no way of controlling how much you wanted what you wanted.

“I,” you pause, looking into his eyes. “I better go.”

“Why?”

“I should get home and shower and try to rest before tomorrow. Plus, I don’t have clothes or anything here and- I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

Jungkook scans your eyes, trying to find the reason as to why your perfectly logical answer makes him feel so uneasy. But he can’t. He can’t find it, but he also can’t shake the feeling.

“Okay.” He kisses you again. “I’m sorry for being a dick earlier. I let my exhaustion get the best of me.”

You smile at him. “It’s okay. I’m sorry, too. I don’t think you’re a nepo baby.”

“Mmm,” he plays, making you laugh.

“Only a little. But I would never say it to your face.”

“Oh, you’re so sweet.”

“I am, aren’t I?”

He nods, kissing you again. And in that moment, you wonder if you’d ever felt your heart break and fall at the same time.

★taglist★

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bts-hyperfixation · 10 months ago

Note

Can you please write a BTS reaction? They went out on a friendly dinner with their crush (it's friendly for their crush, not for them<3), but their crush had to babysit her nephew or niece (1-2 years old). So she brings them with her. How do you think they will react if they see her being all motherly and patient towards the babies?

BTS and babies are too cute and I am at the wrong point in my hormone cycle to be writing about this...

Please send me asks to keep me motivated while I’m off work! Thirsty thoughts, Most likely to, reactions, life updates, and general gibberish welcomed!!

Namjoon

Completely and irrevocably enamoured with this small child and the way you are interacting with them. Honestly thought he couldn't love you any more than he already did and now he kinda just wants to bash his head off the table in hopes that the stupid part of his brain that won't let him confess will go away. This is a man who had thought he had written off having kids when the world fell apart a couple years ago but now he is sure he is ovulating like a woman.

Seokjin

Jin was a little annoyed at the prospect of babysitting because he likes to be the centre of attention, especially your attention. But he quickly finds that annoyance melting when the baby starts babbling and you start cooing back and now he kinda just wants you to talk to him like that.

Yoongi

Keeps having flashes of an apartment littered with baby toys and you sitting at the kitchen table feeding a baby that looks suspiciously like a mix of the two of you. Whenever you are preoccupied by the baby his mind wanders away to this fictitious apartment filled with your laughter. He spends a lot of time just watching you interact with the baby. You have to call him to snap back into the conversation more than once.

Hoseok

Spends more time making faces at the baby than he does looking at you to be honest. He insists you go to places that are kid-friendly. He is not particularly swayed by how great you are with children, he knew you would be, this isn't new information.

Jimin

Not overly fussed about the baby honestly, he wanted to talk to you because you don't have a lot of time together as it is but now you're distracted. Don't get me wrong, he thinks the baby is cute and he loves how caring you are, it's one of the reasons he loves you. Doesn't mean he isn't frustrated and a little pouty about this turn of events.

Taehyung

Has immediately taken the baby out of your arms, he doesn't see how you interact with them, he is too busy tickling and feeding them himself. You get to watch him play dad/uncle instead (He would be lying if he hadn't thought that it might sway your feelings to be a little more romantic for him). Mostly he is just enjoying the baby's company.

Jungkook

No, he isn't jealous of a baby... Well maybe a little bit but you can't blame him. He gets a little pouty to start with but when you excuse yourself to the bathroom and ask him to look after the baby, you come back to find him holding baby above his head and giggling. His nose is all scrunched up and he is smiling so wide that he will never beat those cutie patootie allegations. He spends the rest of the meal sighing dreamily as he watches you take care of the baby.

My ovaries nearly exploded picturing Jungkook playing with a baby, especially watching his arms flex as he lifted the baby and his tattoos and his little nose scrunch and... yeah... so thanks for that.

#bts fic #kpop fic #bts imagines #bts reactions #jungkook fic #namjoon fic #jimin fic #jin fic #taehyung fic #yoongi fic #hoseok fic #bts and baby #bts dad au

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foxymoxynoona · 10 months ago

Note

So...did we ever actually get a drabble with Jungkook getting to hold Kai for the first time after he's born? 🥺 the lil' boy who's made up of him and the woman he's loved for decades 🥺

I got carried away 😅

Story: Amended Characters: Isabella & Jungkook Length: 7,322 CW: Birthing scene with references to cutting cords and placentas and stitches, health complications at birth, stress, fluffy fluff

“There’s evidence of meconium in the amniotic fluid,” were not the first words Jungkook had expected to hear the seconds before his son’s head began to emerge from between the legs of his wife. It was surreal, what he witnessed, it had seemed like an impossible thing –like a cartoon, not something women actually went through. But Isabella was real, really going through this, really clenching her fists against her chest as she curled forward and pushed with everything in her, his tough strong girl who had agreed to go through all of this again so they could do it together. She had known what this was like. He kinda did but, he was learning in the moment, not really.

Watching Isabella go through this pain and being unable to fix it was a guilt second only to knowing the pain he had caused for her when they were younger. Well, he had sort of caused this too… but she had asked him to! Very sexily! How was he supposed to have resisted sex and getting to have a baby with her! No mortal man could resist that.

“Head is out,” the doctor called and Jungkook realized he was both present and not. They had suggested he watch. He would never be able to unsee what he was seeing now, but it was trippy –not just the baby’s head, covered in gooey gunk and some kind of white… cheese looking stuff??-- but this whole image, this whole experience.

“What does that mean, meconium?” he belatedly asked as the nurses encouraged Isabella to wait, not to push, as they quickly wiped off the baby’s face and sucked snarfy sounding stuff out of the nose and mouth. A head of hair he hadn’t expected stuck out at odd angles as the baby’s mouth opened and closed in protest, eyes firmly shut in what looked more like anger as the injustice of this introduction to the world.

Do they look like me? he wondered, feeling like the room had gone still despite the rapid actions of the doctor and nurses.

Isabella yanked him out of it, demanding, “Do you see the baby? How’s it look? Is everything ok?”

“The meconium,” he repeated, not sure someone had answered.

“Don’t worry about that right now,” one of the nurses said. “It may mean nothing, we just want to get Baby really clean to keep it out of their airway.”

“What if it’s–”

Jungkook was interrupted by the doctor calling, “Ok let’s get this baby clear–” The baby’s cry interrupted him, like it was say yeah get a fucking move on here, I’m a head sticking out of a vagina!

Jungkook grabbed Isabella’s hand, wanting to be helpful and involved somehow but feeling absolutely unnecessarily. For most of labor Isabella had not wanted to be touched. It had all moved so much faster than he’d expected. It wasn’t like he could contribute much of anything as Isabella curled forward, face sweaty and red and everything in her clenched as she expelled a tiny human from her body.

“Fuck you’re so hot,” he rushed –not quite what he’d meant to say, but absolute admiration for her loosened the words.

“The fuck?” she laughed. “Doctor this man is harassing me.” Her breath was panted, her words a cheat as she stole a break

Maybe those were the first words their child heard from their mother, if the baby could hear anything over the crying.

“One more push, one more push, you’re almost done!” the nurses chanted and Jungkook saw with amazement that a baby from the hips up had now emerged. He couldn’t process that it was real, that this was really happening, that Isabella had not just grown a big belly and that there really had been a tiny person in there all along. Their tiny person.

“I love you,” he said to her, to the baby, to both of them. “You’re so cool, Isabella.” He had the sudden need to rush out as many good things as he could, so the baby would be born surrounded by words of love and kindness. He assumed Isabella had showered Ezra and Lily with love at their births but he knew their “fathers” had not, not the way he did now for them, not the way he would for this baby.

He had wanted so badly for everything with this baby to be different and now he had contributed basically nothing to Isabella’s labor. She hadn’t wanted the massages or the kisses, she hadn’t found it amusing that he’d driven her to the hospital in his cop car with the siren on, and it had all moved too quickly for him to walk her up or down the hall with their arms linked and his words of devotion carrying her through her contractions.

They’d arrived at the hospital approximately eighteen minutes ago and here she was pushing out the baby.

This wasn’t what he’d planned. He wanted to be better than Landon and Stig.

“I love you, baby, you’re amazing,” he said. Isabella grabbed his hand and squeezed it this time with her push –a short one, replaced with a stunned, open face and a gasp. OUt of the corner of his eye, Jungkook saw the baby suddenly slide down, followed by a rush of fluid and the cheers of the medical staff.

“It’s out!” Isabella cried.

“He’s been screaming, didn’t you hear him Mama?” one of the nurses joked.

“Dad, are you going to cut the cord?”

“A boy,” Jungkook cried over his son’s cries, hands itching to grab him and comfort him. He glanced at Isabella to see if that was ok, that they’d had a boy. She had insisted so many times she didn’t care either way but… but a son, a boy might be like him… would Ezra be ok with a brother…?

Isabella was reaching forward, eyes glassy as she called, “Give him here.”

“One second mama, we want to make sure we got his mouth cleared–”

“Does it look like he aspirated–”

“I see some in the mouth but–”

“Dad, you cutting this cord?” the doctor called, stretching an intestinal-looking thing as a nurse held out a pair of scissors. Jungkook took them in a stupor. He didn’t really want to do this thing, it felt wrong to cut a body party, a piece of Isabella and their baby, but in the moment he was too overwhelmed to remember he’d meant to say no. He’d never forget the way the cutting felt in his hand and quickly thrust the scissors back, attention turning towards the baby who was now being dried and looked over, a stethoscope pressed to his chest as his little legs kicked and his hands reaching for a parent who was already failing him.

Jungkook didn’t realize he’d put his hand on Isabella’s head until she grabbed his wrist, her other arm hanging in the air as she called, “What’s wrong? What’s going on? Jungkook, I can’t see–”

“They’re looking at him and listening to his chest,” Jungkook said. Isabella’s panic made his rise. Was something really wrong?

“Hey, what’s going on?” he demanded, leaving her side and striding over to the rotisserie-chicken-heating looking thing the baby was on now. He didn’t know the doctor who had suddenly appeared from nowhere in all the chaos.

“Hello, I’m Dr. Gardner,” she said, “I’m the pediatric specialist here.” She held her finger up and listened again to the baby’s chest, though he’d stopped screaming. It was more of a gentle, plaintive cry now, as if he was giving up on life–

Or comforted by Jungkook’s sudden near voice.

Jungkook shifted the active part of his brain away from the doctor and to the baby –his baby– who needed him.

“Hey, hey little guy,” he cooed, leaning down and reaching right out to stroke a little chubby cheek. He got goosebumps, saying that to his son, to a real baby that was his. The baby’s head turned, wobbly, as if trying to press against his finger. “It’s ok. It’s ok you’re just born now, and your mama is waiting to hold you close.”

The pediatric doctor was rattling things off –a weight, a height, an APGAR score.

“I hear a slight crackle,” she told the nurse writing things down. “Breathing is slightly elevated but hard to say whether that’ll linger. Let’s check his vocal cords…”

“Excuse me, Dad. You can hold his hand but I need his head,” a nurse said, nudging him out of the way to first slide on a tiny yellow hat and then hold the infant’s head steady. Jungkook felt a jolt of alarm as the doctor suddenly slid a massive camera light clamp tool thing into the tiny little mouth. The baby didn’t seem more upset by this than he already was, didn’t even flail about it, though a nurse held his legs still anyway.

“Wait, what’s going on? Is this really necessary?” Jungkook demanded, worried he was already failing his son. He needed to understand what they were doing before they just did things!

“Koo?” Isabella called. “Someone tell me what’s happening!”

“Hands and feet are still bluish but may be pinking up,” the nurse holding the legs said.

The doctor nodded and removed the tool –which Jungkook saw now was just a light, not even as big as his panic had made him think. The baby screamed louder and he felt a surge of anger that no one was answering their questions.

“Excuse me,” he said, not as politely as he intended, and promptly scooped his baby up right from beneath the doctors. There was so little weight to the body as Jungkook’s hands lifted, his skin warm and oddly dry-feeling but with a softness to it he couldn’t describe. Jungkook didn’t know what he had expected, but not for the this newborn to feel like such a baby. He was only minutes old, how did he feel so real?

Unphased, the doctor touched Jungkook’s arm and cooed at the baby, “Good good. I’m sorry, little sunshine, we just have to make sure you’re ok.”

The baby continued to cry. He was so small! And yet, not quite as small as Jungkook had expected. Sorah had been miniscule, and Amelia just about. This baby felt bigger than Sian and Parker and Sam had been, but maybe he just didn’t remember? Jungkook tucked the baby down into the crook of his arm, nestled against his chest, and took it all back; suddenly the baby felt tiny! Impossibly small! He felt like his arms were too big and awkward despite ample experience holding even very fresh babies. Many times! Not quite as fresh as this one.

He was moving on fumes now as he bounced and hummed and tried to believe this was real.

“It’s ok, you’re ok, shhhh, I’ve got you.”

“Jungkook? What’s going on?”

“We can go to mom,” the doctor said, touching Jungkook’s arm. She had a smile on her face which soothed Jungkook because it had to mean nothing was badly wrong, though he couldn’t quite fight off the resentment that this doctor had already upset his baby and delayed his comfort and not even answered his questions.

He turned away from the chicken-roaster and saw Isabella watching with absolute terror that seemed totally disconnected from the doctor and nurses still working between her legs. She looked completely ignorant of that, her whole attention trained on Jungkook and the baby. Everything right now was so weird.

The baby gave a full body shudder and a nurse suggested, “I’ll get a diaper.”

“Who cares about a diaper,” Jungkook snapped, offended she’d think he was afraid of whatever the baby might produce. He was just born! Jungkook was his dad, he didn’t care, let babies be naked! “A blanket? Please.” It was tacked on. Politeness wasn’t at the front of his mind right now; his baby needed things and what, they were worried about some pee or poop? If that would make him feel better, he could poop all he wanted!

Jungkook’s throat felt thick as he tucked the baby higher, pressing his jaw gently to the hatted top of head as he carried him over to his anxious eomma. It was crazy. It was unbelievable. He was holding the baby and he couldn’t even make sense of that yet because it actually didn’t feel that weird at all, of course he was holding his son, hadn’t he always been holding his son since the dawn of time? Wasn’t this all just a really nice dream?

A nurse held out a blanket but first Jungkook lowered the baby into Isabella’s waiting arms, then took the blanket himself and tucked it around the baby. Isabella’s gasped and immediately pushed the hat off and stoked the hair and chubby little face and papery-thin ears as tears spilled over.

“Oh my god, our baby. Look at him.”

Only then did Jungkook more fully appreciate that he had held his son for the first time. His real living breathing in-the-world son. The baby’s cries quieted to a single final chirp of complaint and then nothing, just peace on his mom’s chest. Jungkook decided the baby had been real a moment ago, there was this haze of unreal around everything until Isabella and the baby were together. Now it was real. Impossible, but real.

“Oh my god,” Isabella said again. “He’s got so much hair!” Jungkook laughed and reached out to stroke the baby’s face again too, leaning close on the bed beside Isabella, ignorant to the bustle around the room. That was just background noise now. All that mattered was that suddenly they had a baby and Isabella was holding their baby.

He felt complete in a way he had not known was missing. Him, Isabella, Ezra, Lily, Gidget, and now this baby to tie them all together, he felt whole. He suddenly desperately wanted everyone here so he could hold everyone at once. His heart would burst.

“Was that you?!” Isabella gasped, looking up at him. The whining noise had come from him, not the baby at all, though it sounded like a baby noise. He tried to explain himself but only a cracked non-word came out and he blinked rapidly against the tears. “Oh my god you’re going to cry,” Isabella giggled. Her face glowed with sweat and effort and joy and Jungkook wasn’t surprised at all the way their son stared adoringly up at it. What a beautiful first view.

“I’m trying not to,” Jungkook admitted and laughed as his eyes threatened to run over. He pressed his face to Isabella’s shoulder and drew a deep shaky breath. The blanket moved against his chin, a little foot cycling. “Hey, are you trying to kick me already?!” The baby was a solid warm lump under the blanket, so warm Jungkook couldn’t believe it as he patted the little butt he’d been shown so many times on the ultrasounds.

“Ok, I’m sorry to interrupt again, we want to draw some blood,” the pediatric doctor said.

“You have to take him?” Isabella asked, shifting as though trying to sit up. The doctor down south told her not to move, so Jungkook slid his arm across her, trying not to notice that there were stitches happening in a place stitches shouldn’t be. How was Isabella not pay any attention at all to that?!

“In a moment, but you keep holding him now. Often that helps a baby improve and wake up, which is what we want to see, he’s still a little sleepy. Right now we’re just going to stick his foot. I will explain while the nurse does that. We noticed meconium in the amniotic fluid right before he was born. Meconium is the baby’s first stool, it’s this blank inky stuff–”

“We have two other children, I remember it,” Isabella interrupted. The joy was gone from her face, she looked so serious at the doctor. Jungkook could read her mind. Spit it out already.

“The concern is whether the baby aspirates the meconium into his lungs. If so, it can make it difficult for him to get the oxygen he needs. The good news is, he looks really good, his color is good, he is responsive and strong. There were no signs of fetal distress during labor and you delivered quickly, but a quick delivery can be hard on a baby too. I do hear a slight crackle in his lungs,” the doctor continued. Jungkook watched the nurse grab their baby’s tiny foot with a needle and resisted the urge to push her away. The baby didn’t seem to notice or care anyway. He was just… existing against Isabella, breathing quickly like he couldn’t quite trust the air of this new world.

“That’s bad,” Isabella said. “Is that why he’s kind of breathing fast? Does he need oxygen or something?”

“It’s not good but we don’t know if it’s bad yet. We’ll run a blood gas to look for low blood acidity, low oxygen or increased carbon dioxide. The most accurate way we can look to see if he’s aspirated is with a laryngoscope, which we’re setting up now.”

“Right now?” Isabella asked with alarm. “He was just born!”

“The last thing we want is your baby not getting the oxygen he needs to do well,” the doctor explained. “If he needs to go on oxygen therapy, better we do that quickly.”

“But…” Isabella trailed off, face distressed, but she was already shifting to hand it over. “You can check quickly?”

“I don’t understand, he’s in danger?” Jungkook tried to catch up.

“We hope not but we want to make sure so we can react quickly. Your baby’s APGAR score was a 5, which means–”

“He needs help,” Isabella said. “Take him, do what he needs! But tell me what’s going on!”

Jungkook felt like he’d done the wrong thing bringing the baby over now. He didn’t know what to do. This wasn’t what he’d planned. He and Isabella were just supposed to snuggle their new baby now; he wasn’t supposed to trail after the doctor carrying his son back to the chicken oven where medical staff had set up several tools next to an incubation bed. Just the sight of that was terrifying and known. It meant something was really wrong.

Jungkook barely held himself together as the baby was braced again and the doctor slid an actual camera this time down the tiny throat. Jungkook wanted to push them all away but was frozen with the terror of it. What did it mean if the baby didn’t have enough oxygen? He didn’t understand in a real way, only that it was bad. What was happening to their baby?

“Faint staining,” the doctor said, looking at a grainy image on the small monitor that meant nothing to Jungkook. He wanted to scream at the awful image of his newborn child with a camera in its mouth. This was wrong, this was a nightmare.

“Very faint though,” she said as she withdrew the tools and set them on a tray for a nurse to carry off. “Let’s recheck APGAR.” Jungkook could only stand there as they ran through a series of questions again –about baby’s skin tone, response to thwacking on the heels, a pulse check, temperature. Jungkook felt like he’d shit himself, he was so anxious, but mindlessly called things over to Isabella before realizing she’d just delivered the placenta. Did he want to see it? No, he told the nurse; how could he care about that when they were listening to his baby’s lungs again? Also, kinda gross…

Suddenly the baby jolted and cried out.

“Ah! Sorry, little one, was that cold?” the doctor grinned and shared a smile with the nurses. She concentrated on listening and nodded, then glanced over her notes as the baby began squirming.

“What’s happening?” Isabella called again. “Someone tell me!”

“Your baby’s APGAR score is improving,” the doctor called back. “That’s good. That’s very good.” She slid her finger along his arm and palm and smiled when little fingers curled around it. “That’s better. That’s better, little one, you’re waking up.”

“Oxygen?” the nurse asked.

“Set up for the chest x ray, let’s do that since I saw the staining but… but these signs are good… come, let’s get baby back to mom for now.”

Jungkook wasn’t thrilled the doctor picked the baby up this time, after the nurses had added a diaper. Something about the diaper seemed wrong, like they were already trying to clean the baby up when he and Isabella just wanted to be with the baby, no diaper needed, just them. He trailed along as the doctor whose name he’d already forgotten returned the baby to Isabella’s chest, offering her a reassuring smile. Isabella looked terrified and Jungkook didn’t know what to do about it. He wasn’t sure his touch would be comforting since it hadn’t been for labor, so he just hovered beside her and watched.

“Good news, mom and dad, baby’s looking a little better. I do see signs of meconium staining on his cords but it’s very, very faint which hopefully means he aspirated very little. The crackle is still in his lungs. This is all very slight but something we want to monitor closely. His heart rate is picking up and his breathing is slowing down, all very good signs. We’ll redo the blood gas in a few hours as well but there’s a balance to strike between making sure he’s supported and not being too aggressive with anything that will tax his little lungs.”

“So what does that mean?” Isabella asked, bless her, because Jungkook didn’t understand a fucking thing.

“It means he is looking better by the minute despite aspirating the meconium so right now I want you to take the time you want to do skin to skin like you are, try to nurse him, just love on him. But we will want to watch him closely for the next few hours and if anything changes, put him on oxygen, so you’re going to see a lot of us until we’re sure he’s all right.”

“Should we do that right now?” Isabella asked. “I don’t want to hold off just for my sake–”

“No no, I promise I would not risk anything. Right now the best thing is for him to be surrounded by you and watched. When you sleep though, we will want to take him to the nursery for close watch, ok?”

“I’m here,” Jungkook reminded. “I can watch him while she sleeps.”

The doctor smiled and agreed, “Yes, absolutely. I will explain the things to watch. But both of you should rely on medical staff while you are here to get the rest you need to take care of him at home. We may have him stay here a couple extra days.”

“In the NICU?” Isabella asked.

“I don’t think he needs NICU as of now, we’ll just keep watching. He is seeming stronger by the minute, we just want to make sure we’re quick to react if that changes. See, he’s rooting, that’s a good sign too.”

Jungkook couldn’t help but feel like she’d tossed a bucket of stress over them. He watched the baby with more anxiety than fascination as Isabella went through the motions of stroking his face and pressing her nipple into his mouth –something that seemed old hand to her after two kids but Jungkook thought was pretty fascinating. The pediatric doctor remained to watch too, a whole party of nurses as well, but Isabella didn’t seem to mind the audience.

“Is it bad?” he asked her quietly, hoping she would know more and could give him an answer.

“I don’t know… he looks so perfect… I think if it was really bad they’d have him on oxygen so they’re just watching…” She looked nervous. Conflicted. He resented that the doctor had interfered with their joy. He felt like worry was making him miss everything.

“Ready to move her to a room?” a nurse at the door called.

Jungkook trailed after them, not sure how he was supposed to fix any of this and angry that they hadn’t had more than a minute to bask in each others presence after birth and terrified that a big hand was going to suddenly reach down and steal his son away before he even got to know him.

The baby had been born shortly after seven o’clock in the morning. It was weird to get messages from family members about delivering the kids to school, about work, wanting to know when they could visit and asking for pictures. Jungkook hadn’t even taken pictures during labor or immediately after the baby was born. Another failure. He tried to make up for it in the room, snapping photos of Isabella exhausted but mooning over the baby, the baby snuggled against her chest, the baby trying to nurse because Isabella said that was fine to photograph.

Eomma and Appa came by right away and couldn’t believe a whole baby had been born in such a short period of time. Soona came too, and Gina. They all fluttered around Isabella and the baby and Jungkook was glad to have something to do, taking pictures, fetching Isabella water and food, reciting the things the doctors had said even though they didn’t make sense to him. He wished he could believe everyone’s assurances that the baby would be fine, but they didn’t know.

Soona went with him for the baby’s x-ray because he insisted, needing to feel like he was doing something for his baby. His sister was a doctor, no one would refuse to answer her questions, and Soona would tell him what they were really saying. It was all so scary. It didn’t matter that the doctors were saying things were improving, there was still that crackle in his lungs, and they decided to start him on antibiotics because he was running a fever, and Jungkook worried worried worried. A newborn baby shouldn’t run even a small fever! He was glad to have his big sister there to ask the right questions.

It was several hours before family left to let Isabella rest before more family would come by later. Jungkook nodded seriously when Eomma told him to be firm if they wanted fewer visitors –that was another thing he could do. But he knew Isabella would want the kids to come by and meet their brother as soon as they were out of school. He hoped the baby would be healthy and strong enough; it wasn’t risky, right? And–

“Jungkook.” He went at her call in an instant, leaning down on the side of the bed. “You’re worried,” she so wisely detected.

“Yeah.”

“But he’s doing ok,” she said.

“Shouldn’t they put him on oxygen just to be sure?” Jungkook asked. He’d made the mistake of looking up on his phone what it meant to aspirate meconium in a quiet moment. Low oxygen at birth could cause all sorts of brain trauma. They might not even see it for months or years. He might seem fine now but then get worse later.

“Koo.”

“Hm?”

“Snuggle down with me.” She shuffled over as best she could in the bed, and he kicked his shoes off before balancing on it with her, not trusting it would hold them both until it did. The baby had fallen asleep on her chest, sound asleep, mouth open, perfectly at peace.

“What if he’s got brain damage?” Jungkook whispered, afraid the baby would hear.

“Then we do whatever he needs,” she said. “But it wasn’t much meconium. It’s light staining. His blood gas wasn’t bad.”

“But–”

“I know,” she murmured. “Everything is so scary. Everything can go wrong and they’re so little and you feel so helpless to do anything. I feel that terror too. But look at him. He’s here, and he’s strong, I can tell.”

Jungkook had to admit the baby did look healthy and peaceful. He looked less blue and more like a little plump puffy baby. He didn’t even seem to be having a hard time breathing right now; his whole chest didn’t convulse like it had off and on all morning.

“Is he breathing?” Jungkook suddenly gasped.

“He’s breathing. I can feel it. He’s just content right now,” Isabella said. “He’s good.”

“He’s good,” Jungkook repeated.

“We have a baby.”

“We have a baby,” Jungkook repeated, then added, “And I only cried a little. There wasn’t time to cry.”

“I know. That was scary but… but it’s quiet now.”

It was. It was so quiet and peaceful. Isabella was a beast and seemed to have come through labor as if it was nothing, which he did not understand.

“How are you feeling?” he asked her, realizing he hadn’t in a few minutes.

“I’m still fine, Koo,” she laughed. “Puffy and sore. They’re going to come tell me to try and pee soon and I’ll probably cry about that. I don’t want to get out of bed.”

“You should rest. You… did a lot.”

“You think?” she giggled.

He stroked her face to get her to look up so he could kiss her and finally his touch seemed welcome. He hadn’t had time to entertain the fear it would be permanent, that space she wanted, but it was gone now anyway, just a figment of labor. He could feel she was sleepy by the low energy of her kiss, warm and soft and lazy.

“It’s so different,” she murmured.

“What is?” he asked. He kissed her forehead, his hand dropping down to rest against the lump of the baby because he needed to be part of this joyful love too. Whatever happened, the baby was loved and wanted and Isabella was right, they would figure out whatever he needed if something did go wrong later on.

“This part,” she answered. “It’s so weird. When Ezra was born, I almost felt bad for Landon because I just had this instant connection with the baby, he was mine and… and I think Landon felt very left out. He didn’t know what to do.”

“I don’t know what to do.”

“You’re amazing, Koo. When he was first born and the doctor had him over there and I didn’t know what was happening but you were there.”

“Doing nothing.”

“Being there. When Lily was born, you know it was just the two of us, me and her, and that felt right too. I would have liked to have a partner there but not Stig. He didn’t belong in that moment with me, meeting my daughter. She was never his. And this time… honestly, I was kind of afraid I would resent you being here.”

“Resent me like… being present at all?”

“I’ve never been someone’s wife. I’ve never had a partner the way you are. Just… people who interfere, Landon, Stig… failures as parents… I was a little afraid the baby would be born and I would just want him in my arms and everyone to go away, even you.”

Jungkook swallowed. It wasn’t like he hadn’t had similar fears but it was terrifying to hear Isabella admit them. She’d fought so hard to protect and raise her children, and he’d never done this before, he fully expected his bumbling might make her defensive.

“But seeing you hold him, it feels the same as if I’m holding him,” she said. “There’s nowhere in the world our kids are safer than with you.”

Relief flooded Jungkook’s body.

“I’m so glad you’re here, Koo. Labor sucks and I couldn’t have done this again without you.”

“You seemed to do just fine,” he mumbled, abashed by her affection.

“I know I didn’t want much touching but… but you were here. And you listened when I said something and you nearly shoved that elderly couple out of the elevator so I could get in–”

“I thought you were going to have the baby in the hall,” he chuckled. “They thought so too, everyone was jumping out of the way.”

“I almost did!”

“It went faster than I thought it would.”

“Me too. My perineum isn’t happy about it.”

“Ah, the tearing…”

“Let’s not talk about it.”

“I’ll still eat there all the same but–”

“Jungkook!”

“We’ll wait until you’re all healed up and then I’ll take care of things,” he assured her, overjoyed by her scandalized glare.

“You just watched a child emerge from my vagina. I would think that’d cool your engines for a while–”

“No way. You’re so cool, Bella.”

“Here, take him.”

“Oh do you need–”

“No, just you hold him now. I bet he won’t even wake up, he’s so out. Maybe he’s going to be a heavy sleeper like you.”

“Is that bad?” he asked.

“Having a baby who sleeps well would be the greatest blessing.” He was barely listening to her because she’d started to drag the baby towards him, the whole little burrito. At the last second Jungkook recalled all the conversation about skin to skin and yanked his shirt over his head and tossed it away.

“What are you doing?”

“Uh… they said that uh, skin to skin with dad is–”

“You’re so cute,” she grinned, and dumped the baby burrito onto his chest. He was so warm Jungkook thought he must still have a fever though the nurse’s said the fever was gone. His hands and feet were now a healthy pink that Jungkook hadn’t even known to hope for.

He adjusted the little one against his chest –who, as Isabella suspected, barely stirred. His face rubbed against Jungkook’s pec and for a second he thought the baby was rooting and would wake up, but he just relaxed and slumbered on.

“What a lucky baby to have two parents with big tits,” Isabella mused.

“I’ll scream if he goes for my nipple.”

“Count on it.”

Jungkook’s laugh trailed off. He was too mesmerized. Dark hair peeked out from beneath the cap, feathery soft over little skin rolls at the back of his neck. He wasn’t swaddled, just draped with a blanket, his little body curled up like he’d probably been inside Isabella. He was so, so new, so fresh. Jungkook knew within weeks, months, years this baby was going to turn into a little person but it was hard to believe right now. Jungkook slid his thumb into the little fist, long papery fingernails barely a scratch against his skin. He had that feeling again he’d had earlier: I am complete, my family is complete. I’ve been waiting for you and now everything is good.

“Maybe we should have let Ezra and Lily skip school so they could come sooner,” Jungkook said. “It feels wrong they haven’t met him yet.”

“They’ll meet him soon and have every day with him. Enjoy the quiet now.”

“That’s true… I just miss them…”

“What are we going to introduce him by?”

“What do you mean?”

“What should we name him, Jungkook,” she snickered, and kissed his shoulder. He kissed the side of her head, briefly again distracted by how amazing she was to have delivered a fucking baby and now just be hanging out talking to him like it was no big deal. She hadn’t even cried. He’d cried from constipated shits before and now she was asking him what they should name this baby she had made?

“We had that list of names.”

“You choose.”

“What?!”

“You pick his name,” she said again. “As long as it’s not something I hate. No Wolf.”

“But you gave birth…”

“And you’re his dad. I got to name our first two.”

Jungkook studied the little face pressed to his chest. He tried to fit a name to this person, but how? Nothing fit. He was a brand new baby, a blank slate. There was no personality yet to tag a name onto, only a little potato with a head of dark hair and a history of scaring the shit out of his parents from the first minute.

But there actually was a name on the list that had seemed familiar to him from the moment he’d written it down. Isabella had not seemed to react any particular way to it, but she hadn’t struck it out, and he’d been almost afraid to point it again in case she didn’t like it. He wasn’t sure where he’d even heard it, it had just lodged in his brain.

“Kai,” he said.

“Kai?” she repeated. “Kai Jeon?”

“It sounds cool, right?” he asked hopefully.

“It sounds like a manga character,” she said, then grinned. “The protagonist. I like it.”

“Really?”

“Ezra, Lily, and Kai. It sounds good together.”

“Yeah, I thought so too!”

“So you’ve thought about this.”

“I just liked the name… OK, and what about Ronin for the middle name? The ronin were samurais who no longer served a master or family, only themselves… kind of like wandering knights… That’s cool, right? Ah, too geeky?”

“Kai Ronin Jeon sounds cool.”

“And it’s kind of like Ezra Ryan and Lily Eleanor… and Kai Ronin… it sounds good, like you said.”

“Yeah.”

“Cool. Hi, Kai. You are going to have a way easier time learning to spell your name than I did so you’re welcome,” Jungkook murmured, patting the little cushy diapered butt. “Kai.” He felt a joy course through him. Yes, the name was right, he felt it in his heart. The baby was right. The family was right. The woman was definitely right.

He wanted to say that, to tell her how much this meant to him, to tell her that he recognized the miracle it had taken for them to be together like this and married and having a baby, and that she had done most of the work. He wanted to tell her he would never take this for granted, that she’d been willing to do it all one more time with him even though the last times had been so hard for her.

What came out was, “Hey I look pretty good for a dad of three, huh?”

“If you weren’t holding him, I would push you off the bed.”

“You look banging as a mom of three–”

“Jungkook–”

“Your tits are…” He trailed off, realizing they were definitely getting bigger. He’d know. He studied them carefully.

“Yeah, I think my milk is coming in faster this time, so he better have an appetite. I can’t believe he’s over nine pounds…”

“Yeah, is that good?”

“It’s big.”

“Is it? I don’t know baby sizes. He seems bigger than my nieces and nephews were.”

“It’s big.”

“He’s strong,” Jungkook decided.

“I think it’s mostly his head. He got your head.”

“Wha? I have a normal sized head.”

“Tell that to my fourteen stitches.”

“Is it really fourteen?!”

“I don’t know, I made that up, I wasn’t listening –he’s awake.”

Jungkook’s gaze snapped immediately down to the little face, to the little dark eyes cracking open. His brow and mouth were scrunched, making him look very grumpy to get woken up.

“Oh hey look at that scowl, he’s definitely yours, Bella–”

“I swear to god, Jungkook.”

“Ah, I think he’s doing that breathing thing again,” Jungkook frowned as the baby began to breathe with his whole chest again. “I’ll give him to you to nurse and get a nurse to check him again.”

“You think we should?” Isabella asked and Jungkook was floored by the question, by the way she looked up at him, by the trust he felt from her. She was the one who’d had babies before! But she was relying on him as the father to help make sure their baby was ok. That Kai was ok.

“Yeah. I’d rather check too much and annoy the nurses than wait too long if he needs oxygen, right? I’m sure he’s fine but I’ll get the nurse.” He felt puffed up with the responsibility of it as he gently eased Kai over to Isabella. Kai let out a cry of complaint, just a little single yowl, and Jungkook’s heart skipped a beat.

“You like me already, huh?”

“Your tits are better,” Isabella teased.

“Definitely not true, sugar butt. I’ll be back.” He said it just to get her huff of annoyance at the saccharine pet name. Good. He loved Isabella grumpy with affection. He loved her needing him and trusting him and pulling him close when it would be so easy for her to push him away in her exhaustion and fear over their baby.

He hadn’t felt like it wasn’t true, but he felt for sure now that they were in this together. Maybe that was partly where the sense of completeness came from, not just from holding Kai and feeling like his family was complete, but this bone-deep proof now that he was Isabella’s –to have, to hold, to rely on– in a way he thought he never could be.

He went off to bother the nurses again, gladly, because there was nothing he wouldn’t do for his wife and kids.

Isabella felt it too: that connection, that worry, that relief, that wholeness.

Kai would be all right, she believed it because she had to, and because he had his daddy to take over when Isabella couldn’t. It didn’t matter if Jungkook didn’t come into this with the parenting history she did. He was Kai’s dad, and he wouldn’t quit until he got it right, until Kai had whatever he needed –just like he had with Ezra, and Lily, and Isabella.

Kai was perfect, just as both her other children had been. She had the most wonderful children in the world, and any of her fears that blending a family would be hard vanished when she held Kai. He belonged here, and Ezra and Lily would feel it too, just like they had with Jungkook even before she did.

Jungkook came back, chatting animatedly with the nurse. He’d been up all night with her once the labor pains started, trailing her like a duckling as she paced the house, timing them because she was impatient and couldn’t remember to do it, bringing her ice water, keeping his distance when she said she needed space, jumping to her side when she needed someone to lean on.

“I think Kai needs a new diaper,” she shared as Jungkook and the nurse reached her. She peeked in the back of the diaper to confirm because these early meconium poops were odorless and easy, but she’d sensed it in the way he had just curled and relaxed. She was right. Maybe some of this baby stuff would come back to her, more easily than she had feared.

Jungkook stretched his arms out, cracking his knuckles, then beamed, “All right, let’s get diaper duty started, huh? We’re going to ease into this, right, Kai? Start me off with some non-threatening stuff, yeah?”

Jungkook’s gasps of horror at the tarry stools a moment later had Isabella suppressing the laughter, her body too sore for this kind of thing.

God, every time she didn’t think she could possibly love Jungkook anymore than she already did, she found she could.

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There are more Amended drabbles on my masterlist or read the main story here

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