she recs

We are creatures of habit yet we’re awfully spoiled. You believe you don’t need a revolution a day to make up a good life and when something is good – really good – it’s hard for it to lose its wonder.

How much warmth do we need to make a place a home? To put a person right where the heart wants it the most – right where all they come to resemble is that one thing that adds to your idea of vitality.

You’ve only woken up next to Jungkook twice yet the question answers itself as you take him in.

From the sheer blinds that cover his big windows, you can make out the first specks of dawn creeping in. The room is still dark but faint light casts shadows on his face – eyes gently shut, dark eyelashes resting on his cheeks, hair cascading on his forehead, slightly messy from sleep. His mouth forms a pout, lips still swollen from your own’s attack a couple of hours prior. His bare chest follows a steady rhythm, the rise and fall of his peaceful breathing almost lulling you back to sleep. He looks so beautiful, so gentle.

It hurts, to know he hurts.

It makes your heart seize, the idea of something draining that softness out of him, and before you can process the capacity of your feelings, you feel the sharp tinge of tears forming in the corner of your eyes.

The moments between sleep and consciousness are our most vulnerable and you believe you’ve fallen victim to what seeing him in his most vulnerable state can do to your heart.

Your body fights, demanding sleep, but your brain is wide awake, and your heart is, too. Your own vulnerability is snatched out of you as the sea of feelings that dawn upon you has you feeling more awake than you have in years. But the realization just waltzes into your mind with a new set of vulnerability – one that’s far more intrusive, loud. It’s not a characteristic of yours to stray away from the root of a feeling but this one finds you wanting to run. Not necessarily away from him, but far enough so that you can exhaust yourself back into a sleepy state – not so awake, nor aware. A place where feelings morph together, formless, no sharp edges to it. No reality or adversity. Just love.

Your hand moves slowly but there’s little power your brain has to go against the instinct that craves to touch him, feel his soft skin, the warmth he radiates when he’s in this state. The tip of your fingers run down his honey skin, from his forehead to his cheek. You can make out the way his face slightly contorts, frowning at the feeling yet falling into it as it relaxes again. It makes you smile. You brush a piece of fallen dark hair from his eyes that are still peacefully closed.

“You’re so beautiful,” your voice is faint, loud enough for only you to hear it.

And he is. He is beautiful. Every feature of his face, the moles you trace with your shaky fingers – a path of constellations you’d like to gaze at forever. The way his voice sounds, the ring of his laughter when it fills a room. You could get lost in the way he articulates words and on the endless stories he has to tell. There are so many things about Jungkook that have taken bits of your soul at grand scale, settling and making themselves a home. The way he cares is one of them. How despite his pain and the cards life dealt him, he never lost that softness for Soori – never became any less of the parent he always wanted to be. How every last bit of strength and warmth in his heart was reserved for her. How he let her heal him.

Your fingers trace a gentle pattern from his forehead, down his eyelids, past his cheeks, taking a brief detour to run a single one down the bridge of his nose until they finally land on his lips. Something settles inside your chest and you let a tear fall. You let yourself feel.

You’re in love with him.

It’s not abrupt – the way the thought finds you. It’s not loud, or aggressive. It doesn’t shock you nor does it surprise you. It’s gentle, like this morning. Like his steady breathing and his face as he dreams, eyes squinting slightly as he nuzzles his face against the pillow.

“Koo,” you call out his name, hand cupping his cheek.

He’s a heavy sleeper and you don’t know how much luck you’ll have in waking him up but you try – fingers tracing his ear, entwining with his locks of hair, caressing his scalp a little. Unconsciously, he keens into your touch, shoulders rising to his neck as little goosebumps form on his skin at the feel. You can see him fighting wakefulness, your fingers lulling him back into sleep as he gets used to them.

But you want his eyes on yours, desperately. So, you try again, another soft, “Koo,” passing your lips.

“Mm,” he murmurs, arm outstretching until its snaked around your waist. His eyes open quickly and his fatherly instincts have him reaching for the baby monitor.

“Shh, shh…” you soothe, bringing him back to you.

He settles back into the pillows, still half-asleep, eyes closing for a second too long as he asks, “what time is it?”

“Dunno. Early,” your fingers don’t cease their caresses through his hair and he smiles when they find the nape of his neck, soft warm skin against your fingertips.

He groans softly in pure bliss and as much as his brain stays in that subconscious place as sleep struggles to rid him of it, he can feel you. He can feel you and he likes it in a way he doesn’t think he could put words to even if he was fully conscious.

“Can I kiss you?” Your question puts a lazy grin on his face before they form a little pout.

“You don’t have to ask, baby.”

The hand that rests on your waist brings you closer to him, your own snaking itself around the back of his neck, noses touching until all it takes is a breath for his lips to be on yours – ever so slow, ever so indulgent as you let the kiss build momentum on its own. There’s no fixed agenda to the way you want to love on him and your lips mimic your thoughts in an uncoordinated, lazy dance. Your hand falls from his neck to his shoulders, pushing gently until your lips part and his back hits the mattress before you slowly swing a leg around his body, straddling him.

He’s naked under you and he hisses at the sudden contact, the feeling lulling your eyes closed as desire slowly pools in your lower stomach, settling promptly and spreading rapidly – a lingering buzz that dawns upon every inch of your body that wants him. His touch, his mouth, his tongue, his voice as he fucks into you.

“I’m up,” he says, eyes finally snapping open and taking you in. He’s not sure if his eyes are deceiving him but you could very well be an angel – the light that creeps past his blinds outlining every curve of your body in a perfect halo. “You’re so beautiful.”

His words are the exact same ones you murmured to him as he slept a couple of minutes prior and you smile, eyes still penetrating his – not shying away once.

“You’re hard.”

A roll of your hips takes the words right from his tongue, replacing them with a faint moan instead, head sinking into the pillow. His responsiveness only makes you that much eager, setting a steady rhythm as you grind your panty covered pussy into him, soaking the thin fabric as he grows to full mast between your folds. The swollen crown of his cock hits at your clit in perfect, repeated motions and the sweet whines that leave your lips land Jungkook straight into a speedy build up. His hands find your hips, grip tightening as he forces your movements to a halt.

“Ah-ah, baby. Slow down.”

“No.”

Your bluntness makes him let out a low chuckle. “I just woke up, it’s a foul. You’re at an advantage.”

“It’s fair play,” your words sync up with the way your hips sink into his once again, small hand traveling down until it lands where your bodies meet. Jungkook’s eyes widen as he takes in the way you push your panties to the side, not wasting a second as you resume your pace. His big cock sits snuggly between your plump folds and the visual alone has him rolling his eyes to the back of his head, a whine breaking in his throat as you begin to go faster.

He gives into it, not caring about how close he is to blowing his load like this, balls heavy as his release nears – the added pleasure of your ass grinding against them only making matters worse for him. His hands fall to your ass, squeezing tightly right in the place where his handprints form a faint shade of red on your skin – aiding the push and pull of your hips, encouraging you to go faster, taking control. And you let him have it. You let him get lost in how good you feel, in how much he wants to fuck you right now but won’t do it because he likes the sweet torture of feeling you like this – no barrier between you two, not nearly enough for how he wants you but enough to take him there.

“Fuck- you’re so fucking wet, baby.”

Your hands find leverage in his chest, palming at his pecs as your own pleasure takes over your every sense. Your clit throbs, pussy clenching around nothing as you circle your hips, the feeling so good it has your nails digging at his flesh. Your hands relax only to find his nipples, nails scraping gently at the hardened nubs. He hisses and you do it again, emitting a throaty moan from him. It draws him painfully close to the edge and his grip on your ass loosens, hands falling to your outer thighs – fingers kneading at the soft flesh.

“Shit- just like that. You’re gonna make me cum, angel.” His voice is raspy and you’re so very tempted to give him what he wants – what he needs the most.

But you don’t, hips raising quickly as your hand travels up, closing slightly around his neck.

“No.”

Everything about this moment throws Jungkook into a frenzied state of shock. His eyes open, widening slightly as your grip around his thick neck tightens – a growl escaping his lips as his orgasm is stripped away from him and a new wave of arousal threatens to break at his insides. He looks up at you, his breathing erratic, eyes glazy and sweat forming at the base of his forehead, matting his dark hair to his skin. Your free hand comes up, gently brushing the strands away and although the action is tender your gaze darkens, hovering over him in a way that has his breath hitching in his throat – something dropping in his lower stomach.

“I said it’s fair play,” you say. All he can do is gawk at you from his vulnerable position. “I want your mouth.”

“H-Have it,” his voice is shaky, faltered by his jumbled breathing.

Your grip around his neck loosens, but the one around his dark hair tightens – walking forwards on your knees, the mattress sinking the further you travel up his torso. Jungkook runs his tongue over his red lips, taking in his view – face to face with your clothed cunt, the soft skin above the hem of your panties so soft, the remnants of a tan casting a glow to your skin that makes it look golden in this light. From this angle, he can see the faint ink of that tattoo he loves so much – delicate like you, even in this forefront. His gaze travels upwards as you discard his oversized hoodie from your body, your soft breasts bouncing slightly as your hands come back down, fingers lacing through his hair.

“Come here,” he says, growing impatient – wanting to taste you.

“Ask nicely.” Your demand is firm, eyes fixed on his shaky ones.

“I want to taste you. Let me make you feel good- please.” He finally gives.

A hazy grin forms in your lips, expression fully lust driven as you walk your knees the extra inch until your pussy hovers over his face perfectly. His arms snake past your thighs, big hands resting over the flesh, pulling you towards him by the ass until his nose against your clit has you throwing your neck back over your shoulders, sending shivers down your spine.

You close your hand around a fistful of hair, pulling until he’s looking up at you – pupils blown, pleading. “Be good. Or you get nothing.” Your power trip takes the both of you by surprise but you don’t show it. He nods, a slight blush forming on his cheeks as he submits fully to you.

His tongue laps at your entrance over your panties, sloppily drenching the fabric further as he licks thick stripes down your center, nose teasing your clit as you draw slow circles with your hips – eyes closing at the feeling as tiny little whimpers leave your lips. Your fingers on his hair alternate between soft caresses and a tight grasp, seeking leverage as the pleasure picks pace inside of you. Your stomach tightens, hips bucking, giving into his incessant assault on your pussy, no hint of a doubt he could have you coming in your panties in a matter of seconds. But you need his tongue. Your fingers hook down the side of your panties, the feeling alone on the sensitive skin making you shiver. Lowering your hips to his face once again, you let his tongue continue his ministrations.

“So good, baby. That feels so good.”

Your praise incites him further, lips closing around your swollen clit, sucking with enough force to have your body jolting forwards, cheek flushed to his headboard as you let out cries of pleasure, letting him know how good he’s being. How good he’s making you feel.

The noises his actions ignite are obscene to say the least but it only adds to your pleasure. You’re so wet, it drives him insane. Tongue coming out past his chin, licking you clean only to resume that torturous suction on your clit – having you gushing out in seconds, juices slick, honey-like and coating his face from the nose down as he drinks you up. He wants every last bit, likes the effect he has on you.

He circles his tongue around your entrance, teasing a bit but not pushing his luck. The wet muscle finally pushes into your hole, shallow but determined strokes, his head moving to the rhythm as he fucks you with it. Your moans make his cock twitch, painfully hard and leaking pre-cum, making a mess out of his lower stomach. He groans, the sound resonating on your walls, his movements not faltering once – the tip of his nose hitting that sensitive bundle of nerves repeatedly until your legs begin to shake over him, thighs closing around his head.

“Oh my God- there. There. Don’t stop, Jungkook.” Your voice is airy, words getting lost in your whimpers and moans as he does just what you ask him. You look down at him, eyes closed, completely lost in your pleasure and his. Your knees begin to shake as you start to lose strength, your orgasm threatening to tip you over the edge and leave you a trembling mess. You tempt it with one last request. “Suck on my clit- Koo, fuck. I’m gonna cum, baby. I’m gonna-”

Jungkook moans. He moans as he sucks your clit, suctioning the little pearl inside his mouth, feeling you come undone – tongue coming out to lap at your entrance, revelling on the way your pussy pulses as you give into that explosion, coming totally undone on top of him. He opens his eyes, not wanting to miss the way your body shakes and your face contorts in pure, unadulterated pleasure.

Your moans begin to faint as you come down, hips raising as you flinch in oversensitivity, a slight unconscious roll to them that has him flicking his tongue against your clit one last time. You look down at him, lopsided smile adorning your lips, a sheen layer of sweat covering your chest, down the valley between your tits.

“W-Was I good?”

“So, so good.”

You walk backwards, slower than you came up – legs still shaky from your orgasm. Jungkook only stares at you, slow blinks, a fucked-out gaze yet his mind is running in anticipation, wanting nothing more than your hands on him. His legs open, welcoming you in as you sit between them, discarding your ruined panties and throwing them aimlessly to the floor. He follows the trail of your movements, eyes glued to your hands as they travel up his muscular thighs until they’re a jerk of his hips away from landing where he wants you most. He stays still, but his cock twitches, landing back on his pelvis and making him hiss.

“You made a mess,” you say, index finger tracing the skin below his belly button, wetting it with the sticky pre-cum and bringing it to your mouth, past your lips, circling your tongue around it. You taste him, eyes closing for a brief second only to find his own shiny ones, big and doe like – eyebrows scrunched up as he dances the line between pleasure and pain.

“Please, ___.”

“Please what, Koo?”

“P-Please,” he whines, mind strained as he tries to collect his thoughts. “Touch me, baby. Please.” The last word is but an airy whisper and his pleads tug at your heart, his voice so sweet, demeanour so pliant. So surrendered to you.

You decide to give him a little say – a reward for putting full trust on you. Finger still hooked between your lips; you look up at him. “Do you want my mouth? Or my hands…,” the same wet finger travels down, tracing his shaft – making him buck his hips against it, the touch bordering on torturous, in need of friction. Your fingers travel to your pussy, his eyes following their every movement as they dive between your folds, collecting your slick before you circle them slowly against your clit. “My pussy?” Your voice makes him look back at your face, those same pleading eyes. “I’m so wet, Koo…”

“F-fuck- I can see that.” He muses, voice slightly cocky – too much for your liking, at least. You raise a brow at him, narrowing your gaze. “Your pussy, baby. Please let me fuck you.”

Your gaze darkens, eyes squinting slightly and your silence lets him know he’s walked himself into something he doesn’t think he’s able to sit patiently through.

Your body lowers, confirming his suspicions as you wrap your hand around his shaft, pumping as you circle your wrist – rapidly picking pace as your lips close around his head, tongue circling around it before you suck frivolously, not giving him time to settle into one feeling before you’re handing him another.

“Fuck- fuck. I’m gonna cum if you do that.” His tone hints panic, voice lilting at the end as it turns into a moan.

“You won’t.”

“Baby,”

You shoot him a wicked grin before your head lowers once again, resuming your diabolical blowjob that has Jungkook fighting with his own pleasure, his taut stomach muscles tightening as he focuses on his breathing, eyes closing and fingers pulling at his own hair, trying to ground himself. When you take him all the way in, throat closing around his crown, his fist closes around the sheets, knuckles turning white with force.

“Fuck my mouth, Koo. I want to feel you.” Your command is swift and when your eyes meet his he looks like he could cry at any moment, but nonetheless he obliges. So, so good for you as both his hands land gently at the sides of your face, caressing briefly before tightening his grip slightly. His hips push upwards, cock immediately hitting the back of your throat as you close it around his sensitive head. You’re prepared when he fucks into your mouth, gag reflex non-existent as you suction him in – the push and pull of his thrusts and your throat contracting around his dick, making Jungkook’s hands shake against your cheeks.

“C-Can’t- too much, please,” he cries.

Your mouth releases his cock from its tight grip, giving him a couple of languid pumps as your body climbs on top of his, lips finding his own for the first time in what feels like forever to Jungkook.

“I m-missed your lips.” His voice is soft, a combination of his state and the way your mouth feels on his – tender but full of intent, tongue dancing with his as you lean into the kiss, moaning as you taste him, you on him, him on you. The two of you together.

“They’re yours, baby.” Your touch is soft as you push his bangs away from his face, kissing his forehead gently. He whimpers, keening into your touch – his own lips forming a pout, placing a gentle kiss against your throat.

“I need you, please,” his lips travel down, hesitant and sweet, open-mouthed kisses on your collarbones “Want to feel you.”

“You will, Koo. You’ve been so good- made me feel so good, baby.”

He nods sheepishly at your words, eyes closing as you plant one last kiss to his cheek before you’re reaching to his bedside table for a condom. He whines a little at the loss of proximity, wanting your body. Needing to feel you however he can have you. He’s been patient – too patient.

“How do you want me?” You ask, bringing the foil package to your teeth and ripping it open. It takes him awhile to process your question, eyes fixed on your mouth, mind lost in finally having you. You want nothing more than to please him, to follow his every wish.

“Like this. Ride me baby, please.”

And he’s just so polite, his voice so quiet, a little timbre to it – a little shake. So overwhelmed and drawn over the edge. He’s all for you, wanting to give himself to you entirely. He wants to be held, wants to see you as you fuck him – wants it slow. He just wants you.

You comply, straddling his lap once again as you roll the condom on. You’re more than ready to take him, your slick running down your inner thighs and making a mess out of his. But nonetheless, you’re used to the stretch of his fingers and his swollen cock looks intimidating right now. You lower your head, collecting saliva in your mouth before you let it fall, slowly landing on the tip of his cock, making him hiss.

“You’ve been so good, Koo. So good for me. I want you so fucking bad.”

Jungkook nods at your words, a small whine leaving his swollen, bitten red lips. His big eyes are glassy, shaky hands gently grabbing at your hips, bringing your body closer to his. His touch isn’t firm, no set pace to his actions – he’s completely given up to you. Let you claim him, have him. And perhaps this is your way to seal the sea of feelings that you wish you could speak. Your own way of telling him I want you to be mine.

You stare at him, his big expectant eyes looking up at you as if you held the secrets to the most precious resolutions of the world. His touch feels like burning coal on your skin, velvety yet fiery – so beautifully dangerous. You stroke his cheek, your own actions as gentle as his.

“You’re so beautiful, Jungkook.” He shies at your praise, cheeks tinting a soft red, a lopsided smile forming at his lips before he draws them in-between his teeth, biting slightly as his eyes follow the movements of your body. You reach for his cock, pumping once, twice before you align him to your dripping cunt, teasing yourself a little as you roll your hips. He moans, the sensitive tip grazing your clit a couple of times before you’re finally sinking your hips into his, taking him all the way in at once.

“Shit, shit- gahh, baby- you’re so tight.”

“Jungkook,” his name is a moan, leaving your pouty lips and hitting him straight where he wants you most.

“Mm- ff-fuck. Please, baby- fuck me.”

You comply. You give him what he wants because he’s everything you want. Your hands palm at his chest, feeling his heartbeat on your flesh, finding leverage on his firm muscles as you begin the sweet push and pull of your hips. Your eyes never once break away from his, fighting to stay open as he lets pleasure take over him – the feeling of your snug walls around his swollen cock so overwhelmingly good. He’s been on edge for longer than he can find sane words to describe but having you like this makes him want to delay his release for as long as he can. He wants to see you, feel you for a while longer.

You raise your hips until it’s just his crown being swallowed by your pussy, pulsing uncontrollably as you try to bring yourself down – ever so close to the edge, too. Jungkook wants to touch you, run circles with his thumb over your clit, feel how wet you are, have you coming undone over him, around him. Your breath is shaky already and he wants to hear you – to know just what he does to you. But he doesn’t. He lets you see what you do to him, lets you bask on the notion that the effect you have on his body is like nothing he’s experienced before.

He cries when you take him all the way in once again, so deep and forceful his eyes win the fight, shutting close as his back arches, head sinking into the pillows as he feels that steady climb. It feels so good – you feel so good, his eyes prickle with tears, erratic puffs of air leaving his mouth as you ride him faster.

“Feel good, Koo?”

“Yes. Yes, that feels s-so- good. Fuck, ___.”

“I’m so close, baby – fuck me please.”

At your request, he does just that. His feet push into the mattress, his grip on your hips tightening just enough so that he can keep you still as he begins to thrust, cock pistoning into you. You feel so full, mind hazy and knees weak as he hits that spot inside of you repeatedly – not faltering once, putting all the energy he’d been saving into ripping that explosion inside of you. He bites his lips, brows furrowed, eyes on a back and forth between revelling on the way your bodies connect and your bouncing tits above him. Your plump pussy lips are swollen, hugging his cock perfectly. All of you is so fucking perfect.

“Let me touch you, baby. Please let me make you cum,” he asks, voice soft, big eyes pleading and you can only nod your head once – not a single inch of space inside your brain for anything but him and how good he feels inside of you.

His thumb lands on your clit, slipping a few times and he moans over how much you’re dripping around him. He draws tight little circles around your nub and it’s a matter of seconds before you feel that pressure in your lower stomach, hips bucking and legs closing in around him.

“Fuck- I’m gonna cum, Koo. I’m gonna cum,” your high-pitched moans fill the room, a string of yes following as his thumb moves faster, swiftly until the world stops for about a second and you cum – hard and loud around his cock.

“Fuck- yes, baby- yes.” He praises between gritted teeth.

Your head is foggy, limbs weak as you ride the last remnants of your orgasm, gathering in your last stretch of strength as you take a hold of both his wrists, pushing them away from you and pinning them against the mattress. You sit on his cock until he bottoms out, not moving, just letting him feel your walls clench around him. He whimpers, whole body shaking slightly as goosebumps form on his skin, turning his head from you as he lets out a moan.

“Look at me.”

You roll your hips once, clenching around him deliberately and he does – he looks at you, so utterly fucked out, so pushed to his very own limit he can’t even find coherent words, just a soft whisper of your name. You start moving, fucking him again – full control as all he can do is stare at you. You kiss those soft little whines from his lips, tongue licking at his until he’s hissing, his senses so powered up every touch feels like fire on his skin. Another roll of your hips throws him dangerously close to the edge, a loud cry passing his lips, falling straight into your mouth.

“I’m gonna- please let me cum. Please, baby, I’m-”

He’s so sweet, and ever so yours, to deny him.

You kiss him once more, short but deep before you say, “cum for me, Koo. Let go.”

And all it takes is your honeyed words and lips on his once again as you kiss him for him to finally hand all power back to his body as he cums hard, spilling into the condom as you still your movements, feeling the way he throbs, the warmth. You bite on his bottom lip, swallowing his moans as his body jerks and shakes under you, riding the final seconds of his orgasm, longer than expected, taking you both by surprise.

“Oh, fuck…” he says, head spinning. He feels exhausted, fighting with the oversensitivity, not strong enough to move or pull away. Enjoying the feeling of your body on top of his as you relax against him.

You pull away, rolling to the side until your back hits the mattress. You look at him, hand outstretching as your fingers lace themselves in his hair, giggling as the touch makes him shiver.

“That was so good.”

He looks at you, shiny eyes and lazy smile – so dreamy.

“I’m glad you sought justice.”

You laugh. “Fair-play.”

He bites his lip, gaze darkening. “Fair play.”

~

Jungkook’s fingers tap mindlessly to the beat of the music coming from the stereo. One of his hands grips the steering wheel firmly and the other sits between your legs, snaked around your inner thigh as he squeezes. You’re singing along, head leaning from side to side to the rhythm. He turns to you for a brief second, smiling. Your eyes are glued to the view ahead as you enter his parent’s posh neighbourhood. It’s quiet and serene, in perfect tune to what characterizes places like this on a Saturday.

The trees are green and full, the fences tall, keeping the houses out of reach from the world – each its own little bubble. You can tell its old money, vintage cars adorning the classic architecture of the houses. It’s different from Jungkook’s neighbourhood – more intimidating and secluded.

“Did you grow up here?”

“Mhm,” he says, thumb gently caressing the soft skin of your thigh.

“Did you have neighbourhood friends?”

Jungkook chuckles. “Jin and Jiminie lived a couple of blocks away from me.”

“Did you decorate for Halloween?”

He frowns at your question. “Mm, nothing too extravagant. Just your standard.”

“That’s sad. This place has a lot of potential.”

He throws his head back, laughing at your remark. “Soori was very little last year but, I want to dress her up this year. Take her trick or treating or something. She’ll probably be walking by then.”

Your eyes widen in excitement, clapping your hands as you say, “oh, oh, oh! Halloween’s my favorite holiday. Christmas, too. And Valentine’s Day. Easter’s always fun, too.”

“That’s all the holidays, baby.”

“I’m not picky.” You say, smiling and entwining your fingers in his. “What are you going to dress her up as?”

Jungkook drives up his parent’s entryway, retrieving a small remote control that opens the tall gates.

“I don’t know yet,” he ponders for a minute before he turns to you, “maybe you can help me?”

You look at him, big smile forming on your lips as you nod excitedly. “My pleasure.”

The gates open and your mouth gapes, gawking in awe at the sight before you. A French Renaissance style home, cream walls and dark ceilings making up its tall structure. Big windows adorn the walls, framing the tall entrance. A beautifully sculpted garden of red roses and green bushes open way for its magnificence.

“Woah,” you whisper.

“They’re minimalists.” Jungkook teases, sarcasm lacing his tone.

“Can’t believe you grew up in an actual Chateau.” You say, making him chuckle once again.

“I’ll be right back, baby.” Jungkook’s soft lips peck your cheek loudly, making you giggle before you nod.

He smiles, taking one last look at you before he’s exiting the car, walking towards his parent’s front door. It’s a hot summer day and he knows they’re going to be making the most of it, probably having breakfast by the sun in the garden.

He enters their home, pace picking up as he makes his way to the backyard. He can make out the smell of freshly squeezed orange juice and sweet pastries coming from the kitchen, slightly enticing. He wishes he could stay – with you. Eat breakfast with his parents, have them get to know you. If they knew you, really knew you, they’d like you. His father already does, although he’s not so sure how fondly he’d feel of the fact that you’ve grown close enough to comfort to his family. To him and Soori. An unconscious frown adorns his face. Out of all the things he worried about when it came to you, his parents’ opinion was never one. He realizes he might’ve given himself a mental hall pass, having too much on his mind to give it a second thought. After all, Jungkook had set flight on his own at an early age - claiming independence, an unspoken deal between the three of them.

His father had realized his potential, being their only child and chance at keeping The West End a family affair. But Jungkook was far too in tune with his own sense of self – ‘head in the clouds’ his mom would say, condescending, but in her language, a soft way to justify his ways. So, they’d seen eye to eye – he’d take over the business, making use of that innate talent his father had seen in him. And in return, they’d let him do it with passion – his way.

So far, the deal had worked. Jungkook was the man his father had envisioned him as, in surface. An extraordinary CEO, capable of running the business and making it soar to grounds above. Bringing freshness and new approaches to it, something they both deemed important. Not only that but he was a great father, a family man. With these two covered, there was little say they had in his life – another thing all parties involved were aware of.

But what’s so rebellious about the life Jungkook had lived until now? The modern and envied cookie cutter outcome of socialites. He met a beautiful girl and established a serious relationship. They both built respectable names for themselves, a society. The infamous power couple title that was bestowed upon them by the back and forth gossip their relationship brought into their radius. They had a baby, built a family, became the dream of many and set themselves for a destined future together. His parents never dared have a say because there was nothing to object. He’d landed right where he ‘belonged’, as ironic as it sounds.

You go against the morale of everything that his destiny deems to be the right path. It’s the cliché that could land him in misinterpretations if exposed to the public – the love affair with the nanny, younger than him, from a different ‘world’. The thought alone aggravates him, growing defensive over the possibility of anyone putting an adjective that you don’t deserve over your name.

A new set of fears occur him. You are not where his doubt lays – at this point, saying he’s not sure of how important you’ve become in not only his but his daughter’s life would be hypocritical towards himself, a self-inflicted lie. A defense mechanism. It’s the easiest way out, but also the most painful. When he walks towards you in the wake of uncertainty, he feels safe.

What makes him doubt is the side effect, what it would entail for you. You’re so young, so full of life. Would he ever be able to take on the guilt of stripping you off your freedom in the name of what Jungkook feels brewing in his chest.

In the name of something that feels awfully close to love.

His pondering is cut short as he finally reaches the open doors that lead to the garden.

“Darling!” His mother chirps, cup of coffee in hand as she beckons to him.

Soori squeals, jumping excitedly in her high chair, the same one he used to sit on when he was her age. It’s a bit of a relic and a mixture of nostalgia and the soothing feeling that settles upon him when he sees her makes him smile.

“Good morning,” he says, walking straight towards Soori. “Hi, princess. I missed you, baby.” He undoes the straps that restrain her, chubby hands excitedly reaching for him. Once she’s finally in his arms, he brings her closer, placing a loud kiss on her cheek. And then another, repeating the action until she’s squirming, pushing him away as she giggles. He smells her hair, takes a good look at her. He missed her. “How was she?”

“Delightful.” His father says, eyes leaving the newspaper he’s holding for the first time since Jungkook stepped inside veranda.

“Mrs. Lee just changed her. She’s inherited your appetite, honey. Table manners, too.” His mom adds, shaking her head.

“That’s my girl.” Jungkook says, kissing Soori’s cheeks once again.

“Sit down, son. We’ve set up a place for you.” His father tells him, eyes back on his paper as he motions to the chair at the far end of the table.

“Thank you, but I gotta run.”

“You do not, darling. It’s a Saturday.”

“___’s waiting for us in the car.”

He could’ve made up any excuse but he decides to test the waters. His boldness takes everyone in the table by surprise.

His father’s eyes are back on him. “Why’s that?”

“She’s Soori’s nanny.”

“I thought you mentioned she didn’t work on weekends.” His mother muses.

He doesn’t have to lie; he knows this much. More importantly, he doesn’t want to lie. But he can’t find words to explain either. It’s then that he realizes that he’s grown feelings for you that are more complex than he’d originally thought. Complex enough to explain to himself, let alone to other people.

Not to mention his parents.

So, Jungkook lies.

“I’m working today.”

At this, the tension in the room dissipates. But it only grows stronger inside Jungkook’s chest. His mother nods, humming in acknowledgment. His father’s gaze fixes back to the news, silent for a moment before he adds: “Don't work on weekends unless it’s outmost necessary, son.”

“Noted.” He affirms.

“Come by for lunch tomorrow?” His mother approaches them, giving Soori a gentle kiss on the cheek.

“Sure, I’d love that, mom.” She pats him on the cheek, walking him to the front door to see the two of them off.

Once they make it to the tall wooden doors, she pauses, hesitating for a moment as he swings them open. She looks at you, eyes fixed downwards as you wait patiently, sat in the passenger’s seat.

“How old is she?” His mother asks.

“Huh?” Jungkook says, turning to look at her, confusion lacing his features until he follows her line of vision and his eyes land on you. “Oh. Uh- she’s twenty-three.”

“Awfully young.” Her tone is soft, strikingly contrasting her words.

“Yeah.”

“She must need the money. To be working weekends, I mean.”

Jungkook stares at his mother, his eyes trying to fish for something that would give away the motives of her small talk away. He finds nothing, just contemplation. Nonetheless, her tone is suggestive enough to make him feel defensive.

“Anything wrong with that?”

She turns to him, silent for a brief second as she takes him in. “No. Don’t overwork her, that’s all.” She gives him a tight-lipped smile.

“Noted.” He returns it.

~

Soori’s tiny fist grips tightly to your index and middle finger, her other holding tightly to her dad’s thumb. Her steps intercalate with short little jumps here and there as she grows excited. Jungkook bends a little, trying to follow her pace and you do the same – the three of you surrounded by the tall bookshelves that make up the library. It’s empty and a peaceful silence fills the walls, only broken by Soori’s unintelligible babble. But she only adds to the peace, sweet coos warming your heart as she looks around her and smiles at nothing in particular – just taking the world in.

It’s still fifteen minutes until book club and you’ve spent the past ten minutes just like this. So far, this one dates to one of your favourite Saturdays of the Summer, only dethroned by the one that landed Jungkook in one of these same hallways. The Saturday he kissed you.

“I love today.”

You’re sincere, always speaking your mind. Jungkook can almost predict when you’re about to do so – taking in the way you contemplate, dreamy sighs passing your lips, a softness to your eyes that he can only mimic.

“Me too.”

“Thank you.”

He stops in his tracks, looking up at you. “You don’t have to thank me, baby.”

“I want to.”

He loves that about you.

“Hey, what are you doing after? We can wait around in the area and then go get some pizza once you’re done? Mai, Tae and Dae can come with.”

“I’d love that, Koo.”

“Perfect, baby.”

He leans closer to you, still in that bent over position and it makes you giggle. He narrows his eyes at you for a second before that signature pout shapes his lips. His eyes close in anticipation. You kiss his cheek instead.

“Excuse me,” he begins, eyes opening, gasping in mock shock.

You look at him, no longer laughing but simply taking him in. Your smile speaks words that he can’t hear, yet he feels them.

You tell him anyways.

“I like you so much, Jungkook.”

He straightens, taking Soori in his arms, bouncing her on his hips as she mewls, displeased at being back in the air.

“___,” he holds your gaze, his own avalanche of feelings breaking in his chest. So much to say, so little words he can find. He wonders how something so soft can produce such great fears inside of him. He sighs, finding a middle ground. “I like you, too.”

It’s the truth.

But not the whole truth.

~

You smile at Soori as she hands you one of her blocks, taking it from her and when you do, she grabs a hold of another one and proceeds to do the same. You put them in one of her baskets, tidying up after a day of, you will admit, mostly playing. She deserves it – it is her birthday tomorrow after all.

“Thank you, Soo,” you coo at her as she hands you another block. She smiles, seemingly proud of herself, babbling a response your way. “You’re such a big girl. Don’t tell daddy, though.”

“Dada?” She chirps excitedly, head turning frantically towards the front door as she scans the space for him.

“Not yet, baby. Soon though! Let’s finish cleaning.”

She just stares at you, confused for a second but then back to her smiling self, passing you more toys so that you can put them away. She’s so smart – quick for her age and overall, the best baby. You love her so much.

You can’t help but think about that conversation you had with Mai during the hotel inauguration – back when Jungkook was an enigma you were yet to decipher. How she’d told you how Soori was everything good about him. How she perfectly mirrored all his goodness. You look at her now, thinking about him. They’re everything there is to love.

They’re the extra in the ordinary.

So easy to fall for.

The front door swings open, making Soori squeal in excitement, falling to the floor from her standing position against the coffee table. She begins to crawl, attempting to round the sofa and getting frustrated halfway.

You pick her up, holding her in your arms as you walk towards the doorway. “Come on, baby. Let’s say hi to daddy, yeah?”

She claps her hands in excitement, outstretching them towards Jungkook as soon as she sees him. He smiles, warm relief swarming his inside as he sees her.

“Hi, princess. Missed you.”

She falls to his arms, a muffled Dada leaving her tiny lips as he kisses her cheeks with enough force to squish them.

“How was your day,” you ask him.

He mimics his previous actions, holding your face in his hands, squeezing gently as he kisses your cheek.

“Hi, baby. Missed you.”

“I missed you, too.” You blush, never fully getting used to him coming home.

To him coming home to you.

“It was good – happy the week’s over, though. What about yours? Did you two have fun today?” He looks at Soori, bouncing her a little until she’s letting out those soft baby giggles he loves so much.

“Yep. Had the best day ever. We just played.”

You sound genuinely excited and it makes his heart skip a beat – making him melt a little.

“That’s good. A fun last stretch before she’s one,” he kisses her chubby cheeks again.

You squeal in excitement. “I can’t wait.”

Jungkook simply smiles, a fond expression to his face as he looks at his daughter. But his eyes say more than he lets out – his passive demeanour alerting you that something’s on his mind.

“Hey, what are you two doing tonight?” You ask him, brushing Soori’s silky hair from her face. She needs a haircut.

“Mm, didn’t have many plans. Some dinner, maybe a movie.”

His tone is nonchalant but your question weighs heavy on him.

All week had been filled with excitement leading up to Soori’s first birthday – a milestone that they’d both reached. It made him feel proud, not only making it this far but also seeing how perfect his daughter was. In every sense – how she grew and developed new skills every day. Soori was everything Jungkook dreamt of when the first idea of her blossomed in his heart. But this moment wasn’t.

It’d hit him – slowly like painful things often do. You’re envisioning a certain scenario, some mundane and ordinary in nature and then reality settles upon you like an unwelcomed guest that you have to entertain for the sake of nothing that’s justifiable. He didn’t have to entertain the feeling further – simply realizing that Ira wouldn’t be here to witness her first birthday could’ve been enough. But one intrusive thought led to the other, undoing the tight knot he’d wrapped around the part of his heart that still hurt for her.

It was a domino effect, one realization after the other. He thought about him and Soori sat in front of her birthday cake, smiling. How that’d be the family picture that would characterize that day. He wondered if she’ll ask about it when he handed her the box of polaroid’s he’d been collecting with her every milestone. He thought about the way he’s now Dada to her, pained with the idea that soon enough she’ll have to learn Mama. It angered him, how the word felt so empty in comparison to his.

The idea of missing from Soori’s life terrified him. He wanted to be there for her. Birthdays, first days of school, first words and steps. Graduations and celebrations – he felt the vital need to be there. He couldn’t grasp his head around the idea of Ira not wanting the same.

Thinking of his daughter, Jungkook realized that he was enough for her. But in moments like these he felt like his love was scarce. Like his voice was too quiet as he walked her through life.

Four months ago, he thought his plans today would consist of reminiscing on his daughter’s first year of life. Being stripped of that weighs heavy on him.

“Why don’t you two come over for a little bit? Lucy made lasagna and I heard they’re dyeing Jimin’s hair back to black, or at least attempting to.”

Jungkook stares at you, slightly confused as to how you always manage to make him come afloat when that heaviness makes him feel like he’s sinking. How you make him feel like he can breathe.

He hesitates for a second and you almost think of saying something along the lines of it’s cool if not though, don’t worry but you realize how silly that would sound, so you stand your ground; big eyes looking up at him, smile still on your face.

He looks down at Soori who smiles at him. “Yeah, we’d love that.”

~

“Eeeeeeeeeeeeek, baby!” Lucy claps her hands together at the sight of a very giggly Soori, still in her father’s arms as the three of you enter the apartment.

“Soo-Soo!” Jimin comes out of the bathroom, a clear shower cap over his head as he lets the dye settle into his hair.

“You’re a toxic hazard, no getting close to baby.” Lucy says, shoving a hand in his chest and pushing him back. She looks up at Jungkook. “Hi. Can I hold her?”

Jungkook stares at Soori and then back up at her. “Hi. Uh- yeah, sure.”

Soori’s comfortable in Lucy arms, loving the excitement she feels at seeing her – simply basking in the love and attention. It’s so easy, so simple to love her. It makes Jungkook’s heart soothe itself slightly, the idea that the world sees that gentleness in her that he loves so much.

“Can she eat lasagna?”

Lucy’s question makes him chuckle. “Yeah. Just- tiny pieces.”

“Tiny pieces for the tiny baby, gotcha.”

Without wasting another second, she walks towards the kitchen, proceeding to plate it in a small bowl for her.

“We should probably keep an eye out – this place is not babyproof and neither is Lucy.” You say, eyes on them like a hawk.

Jungkook smiles. “She’ll be fine.”

“Do you want lasagna?”

He nods. “Yeah, baby. Thank you.”

You give him a nod and a smile, heading to the kitchen to help Lucy out. Jungkook heads to the bathroom, a frowning Jimin inspecting the DIY dye job he and Lucy had done. There’s still patches of bleached hair, even miscellaneous strands of pink here and there. Jungkook chuckles, hands inside his pockets as he takes his friend in.

“What’s so funny” Jimin sneers when he notices him.

“You? Duh.”

“Duh- what are you? Twelve?”

“Twelve-year-old me could’ve done a better job than that.” Jungkook says, tilting his chin towards his hair.

“Ha-ha, very clever.”

“In fact, twelve-year-old me probably did. Here, sit down.”

Jimin sits down on the toilet seat, eyes following Jungkook as he steps inside the small bathroom. A heart-shaped magnet holds a polaroid of you and Lucy, bright smiles adorning both your faces. It makes him grow soft. He proceeds to put gloves on, hands giving the bleach a mix before he walks towards his friend – inspecting the damage done and crafting a solution.

“How are you?” Jimin asks.

“Me? Fine. Why?” Jungkook doesn’t look at him, eyes fixated on his hair as his fingers move through the strands of hair.

“Because I’ve known you for far more years I wish to at times, dumbass. And if you’re not fine, it’s okay.”

He looks down at Jimin, a snarky remark threatening to leave his lips just so he can cover the sadness that takes over him when reminded of why his friend's sixth sense is ticking. But he’s too tired to pretend.

“She’s turning one tomorrow.”

“Nostalgic or… something else?”

“Something else. Or maybe nostalgic, I don’t know. Maybe it’s nostalgia for something I won’t have. She won’t have.”

“Gguk. Soori has an army of people that love and adore her. Tomorrow’s going to be special. And fun. And she won’t remember anything but we’ll make sure to tell her just how happy she was. How happy we all were.”

Jungkook nods, a faint smile on his lips. “Yeah.”

“And don’t you dare for a fucking minute think you’re not enough for that little girl. Or that she would’ve done any better.”

He looks down at him, confused at his sudden change in demeanour.

“I know that. Soori doesn’t. Or- she won’t. In the future, I mean.”

“That’s far from now, Gguk. I get it- or well, I try to. I understand where you’re coming from. Maybe I see things with a bigger perspective, maybe being on the outside looking in allows me to make things simpler than they are. But I think you need to hear simple answers to the harshness you’re putting on yourself. You love Soori. You’re her world. You need to start understanding that that is the root of all things. That as hard as the road gets, if you have that, wherever it takes you it will be enough.”

Jungkook thinks of the first time he saw his daughter, of all the unspoken promises he made to her when he held her tiny body in his arms. That incessant need he had to make the world a good place for her – even if he could only do with so much. He now realizes that that promise had kickstarted something inside of him. Something that made him softer, more vulnerable. A thing that only grew with her.

He thinks of you. Of his feelings for you that oftentimes feel like a road with a destination he can’t attest for – a place within him he’s never explored before. But he knows that the beginning of it was pure, a thing you would perhaps call love. A thing that only grows, too.

~

You knock on Jungkook’s doorbell, taking a step back and waiting for the door to swing open. You fidget in place, in half excitement and half nerves. Your pink sundress blows in the wind slightly – it’s a perfect summer day, in tune with the perfect summer baby that you can’t wait to cuddle in what you hope is a matter of minutes. You’re carrying a medium-sized pink box, a white ribbon around it, tied in a perfect knot at the top – her birthday present.

The door swings open, a big smile taking over your face immediately at the sight of Soori and Jungkook. He looks at you, takes you in. Your pretty pink dress and white converse. He looks down at Soori, smiling. Your eyes grow shiny at the sight of her. She’s wearing a one-shouldered baby pink tulle dress, a pink bow wrapping around the middle like she’s by far the best present at this birthday party. Hint: she is. She jumps in her dad’s hold excitedly, swinging her little feet back and forth, white converse on hers, too.

You put the box on the floor for a brief moment and right as you come back up, she free-falls into your arms, taking both you and her dad by surprise. She screams, loud giggles leaving her lips at being with you again.

“Happy birthday, bub.” You hold her to you, cheek to cheek, so tight but she lets you cuddle her – something that has become a rare occurrence with most people nowadays. You look up at Jungkook, smiling softly when you say, “and happy first year as a dad, Koo.”

He doesn’t think about it twice, doesn’t double check his surroundings to make sure nobody’s looking. He simply takes one step forwards and wraps you in his arms, Soori included. He hugs you, breathing in your scent, just letting himself enjoy how happy he is to see you – all smiles and party ready, accidentally matching with Soori.

“Thank you for coming.” He means it. Not as a formality, but from a place that acknowledges the comfort that settles through him.

“Thank you for having me.” Your gratitude doesn’t come from formalities either.

“Come in. You hungry? There’s a hot dog stand. Soo already had two.”

“All by herself?” You coo, baby voice on.

“Mhm,” he assures.

“Seriously can’t wait for you to talk, baby girl.”

Jungkook laughs at this, hand softly placed on your back as he walks you towards the backyard.

It’s a safari dreamland – all pink, gold and brown. Balloons taking over the space in various forms and shapes, a tepee at the very back with various animal statues sat at the front – a zebra, an elephant and of course, a giraffe, so realistic you can barely believe your eyes. Her cake sits proudly on a table, a three-piece wonder, courtesy of Lucy, surrounded by delicious looking pastries all matching the décor. Her name sits on top of the cake in blue candied syrup letters: Soori.

“Your wedding is going to have competition, Miss Blue.”

“Oof,” Jungkook says, hand on his heart as he sighs dramatically. “One big day at a time.”

You laugh. “Sorry, sorry. This is amazing, Koo. You’re-”

“What?”

It takes you a minute to answer. “The best. You’re the best dad.”

“Thank you. That means… a lot. Specially today.”

“Not just because of- all this,” you say, “but because she’s perfect, Jungkook. She’s perfect and she’s all you. You did this.”

Jungkook’s face is as serene as ever, small smile forming at his lips. But his heart is going places, an erratic beat to it that forms specks of something so warm inside of him – bursting rapidly, flowing through his every being until it’s leaving his lips.

“You too.”

You turn to him, eyes wide. “Huh?”

“You take care of her. But you do more than that and… I’m grateful. I see her in you. I like seeing her in you.”

Your brain tries to compute words but fails, not being able to think of an answer rather than I love her. I love you. That’s the more than that that he refers to: love.

“I-”

“___!” Mai’s voice startles you, making you jump slightly. She smiles at you, Kenny at her side, smiling too.

“Hi guys,” you say, regaining your composure and steading your heart that had grown frenzied just a couple of seconds ago.

“It’s so good to see you again, ___.” Kenny adds, taking Soori in her arms as she reaches for her. Once she’s finally settled, she looks back at you, changing her mind and going back to you. You take her in your arms, making everyone laugh. “She loves you.”

“Oh, like crazy.” Mai says.

You smile. “It’s nice to see you guys, too.”

She loves you.

Like crazy.

It echoes in Jungkook’s head, louder and louder with each passing second.

~

Soori’s eyes are a carbon copy of her dad’s. Big and doe like. They get puffy underneath when she smiles, just like right now. So shiny they look glassy as she claps to the beat of the people that love her the most singing her happy birthday. She struggles to keep focus on just one thing – eyes zooming from her cake and bright candles to every single person that surrounds the table. She finds your eyes, smiling just like hers and she giggles. She has no idea what’s going on but she loves it. She enjoys the love, the smiles of everyone on her. You’re far away – too far away and she doesn’t know better than associate you with happy moments.

Her arms reach for you, hands opening and closing in grabby motions, whining a little when all you do is wave and smile. Jungkook looks down at her and then at you. You give him a crooked smile, chuckling a bit at her insistence. When everyone breaks out in cheers, clapping loudly, her attention goes back to the crowd. She giggles, clapping along, too.

Jungkook kisses his daughter’s cheek, bringing her closer to him. His voice is a whisper only for her to hear when he says, “happy birthday, princess. Make a wish.”

They lean closer to the cake, his hand gently keeping her from getting too close to the flame.

It’s her wish but he makes it for her.

He doesn’t see it but you’ve got his polaroid ready, finger on the shutter, pushing into it at the most perfect time – big smiles adorning both their faces as they look at each other, ready to blow her candles. He does it for her, another round of applause and coos following, making Soori jump excitedly. She’s so happy, so full of love and life it gives Jungkook just that.

He looks over at you, finding your eyes with his own, his smile only growing bigger when he sees you. You shake the camera in your hand, showing it to him. He mouths a thank you and you wink. Soori finds you, too, whining and squirming until you’re walking closer to her. She falls in your arms once again and points to her cake, determined in having you see it even though she’s being swarmed with kisses and praises by her honorary aunts and uncles – all the people that took part in her first year of life.

It’s picture perfect. More so from afar.

Jungkook’s parents stand at a far end corner of the table, smiles on their faces as they see the moment unfold. They’re not very sentimental people yet they both acknowledge they managed to make just that. It fills them with pride and something they’d never thought they’d experience when Jungkook first came into the world.

He emits warmth – even to them.

“You were right.”

His father’s tone holds that stern nonchalance that characterizes him.

“Mhm,” his mother’s gaze doesn’t falter once. She nods, a tight-lipped smile on her lips as she focuses on you. Her granddaughter in your arms, her son smiling as she feeds Soori a piece of cake. She feels the flash go off before she sees your startled expressions, looking around until she catches Taehyung at the opposite side of the table, shaking the polaroid of you three he’d taken. “What are we going to do about it, darling?”

“I’ll talk to him.”

“No more suffering.” She turns to her husband whose eyes remain on his son. “I want to be there, too.”

“You bend too much for him. Always have.”

“He’s been through enough.”

“Yet he’s walking himself into another mess.”

Jungkook’s mother sighs.

“Head in the clouds, always.”

His father nods. “I’ll draw sense into him.”

He fixes his tie, a curt smile on his face as he rounds the table, walking towards his son.

“Hey, hey- wait! This one’s a bit blurry. Let’s take another one. Smileeeeee!”

Soori’s in your arms and she follows Taehyung’s command, big smile plastered on her face, flashing her perfect set of teeth top and bottom. Her cheeks grow puffy, eyes barely closed with how big she’s smiling. You turn towards the camera, mimicking her actions.

Jungkook does the same, standing behind Soori and leaning his chin on top of her head. She lets out a breathy giggle, taking the two of you by surprise, looking down at her lovingly in perfect sync just as Taehyung takes the picture.

He looks at you and the words that have been echoing inside his mind the whole day take on a new form.

He loves you.

Like crazy.

And picture-perfect captures just that.

~

yeah.

yup!

let me know what you guys thought! i love talking to you guys and i feel like this one’s going to stir some (healthy!) conversations. thank u for all the love and support and for being here, enjoying my lil story. i love u guys sm. i’m sending kisses and infinite love your way <3 xx.

~

★ taglist ★

We are creatures of habit yet we’re awfully spoiled. You believe you don’t need a revolution a day to make up a good life and when something is good – really good – it’s hard for it to lose its wonder.

How much warmth do we need to make a place a home? To put a person right where the heart wants it the most – right where all they come to resemble is that one thing that adds to your idea of vitality.

You’ve only woken up next to Jungkook twice yet the question answers itself as you take him in.

From the sheer blinds that cover his big windows, you can make out the first specks of dawn creeping in. The room is still dark but faint light casts shadows on his face – eyes gently shut, dark eyelashes resting on his cheeks, hair cascading on his forehead, slightly messy from sleep. His mouth forms a pout, lips still swollen from your own’s attack a couple of hours prior. His bare chest follows a steady rhythm, the rise and fall of his peaceful breathing almost lulling you back to sleep. He looks so beautiful, so gentle.

It hurts, to know he hurts.

It makes your heart seize, the idea of something draining that softness out of him, and before you can process the capacity of your feelings, you feel the sharp tinge of tears forming in the corner of your eyes.

The moments between sleep and consciousness are our most vulnerable and you believe you’ve fallen victim to what seeing him in his most vulnerable state can do to your heart.

Your body fights, demanding sleep, but your brain is wide awake, and your heart is, too. Your own vulnerability is snatched out of you as the sea of feelings that dawn upon you has you feeling more awake than you have in years. But the realization just waltzes into your mind with a new set of vulnerability – one that’s far more intrusive, loud. It’s not a characteristic of yours to stray away from the root of a feeling but this one finds you wanting to run. Not necessarily away from him, but far enough so that you can exhaust yourself back into a sleepy state – not so awake, nor aware. A place where feelings morph together, formless, no sharp edges to it. No reality or adversity. Just love.

Your hand moves slowly but there’s little power your brain has to go against the instinct that craves to touch him, feel his soft skin, the warmth he radiates when he’s in this state. The tip of your fingers run down his honey skin, from his forehead to his cheek. You can make out the way his face slightly contorts, frowning at the feeling yet falling into it as it relaxes again. It makes you smile. You brush a piece of fallen dark hair from his eyes that are still peacefully closed.

“You’re so beautiful,” your voice is faint, loud enough for only you to hear it.

And he is. He is beautiful. Every feature of his face, the moles you trace with your shaky fingers – a path of constellations you’d like to gaze at forever. The way his voice sounds, the ring of his laughter when it fills a room. You could get lost in the way he articulates words and on the endless stories he has to tell. There are so many things about Jungkook that have taken bits of your soul at grand scale, settling and making themselves a home. The way he cares is one of them. How despite his pain and the cards life dealt him, he never lost that softness for Soori – never became any less of the parent he always wanted to be. How every last bit of strength and warmth in his heart was reserved for her. How he let her heal him.

Your fingers trace a gentle pattern from his forehead, down his eyelids, past his cheeks, taking a brief detour to run a single one down the bridge of his nose until they finally land on his lips. Something settles inside your chest and you let a tear fall. You let yourself feel.

You’re in love with him.

It’s not abrupt – the way the thought finds you. It’s not loud, or aggressive. It doesn’t shock you nor does it surprise you. It’s gentle, like this morning. Like his steady breathing and his face as he dreams, eyes squinting slightly as he nuzzles his face against the pillow.

“Koo,” you call out his name, hand cupping his cheek.

He’s a heavy sleeper and you don’t know how much luck you’ll have in waking him up but you try – fingers tracing his ear, entwining with his locks of hair, caressing his scalp a little. Unconsciously, he keens into your touch, shoulders rising to his neck as little goosebumps form on his skin at the feel. You can see him fighting wakefulness, your fingers lulling him back into sleep as he gets used to them.

But you want his eyes on yours, desperately. So, you try again, another soft, “Koo,” passing your lips.

“Mm,” he murmurs, arm outstretching until its snaked around your waist. His eyes open quickly and his fatherly instincts have him reaching for the baby monitor.

“Shh, shh…” you soothe, bringing him back to you.

He settles back into the pillows, still half-asleep, eyes closing for a second too long as he asks, “what time is it?”

“Dunno. Early,” your fingers don’t cease their caresses through his hair and he smiles when they find the nape of his neck, soft warm skin against your fingertips.

He groans softly in pure bliss and as much as his brain stays in that subconscious place as sleep struggles to rid him of it, he can feel you. He can feel you and he likes it in a way he doesn’t think he could put words to even if he was fully conscious.

“Can I kiss you?” Your question puts a lazy grin on his face before they form a little pout.

“You don’t have to ask, baby.”

The hand that rests on your waist brings you closer to him, your own snaking itself around the back of his neck, noses touching until all it takes is a breath for his lips to be on yours – ever so slow, ever so indulgent as you let the kiss build momentum on its own. There’s no fixed agenda to the way you want to love on him and your lips mimic your thoughts in an uncoordinated, lazy dance. Your hand falls from his neck to his shoulders, pushing gently until your lips part and his back hits the mattress before you slowly swing a leg around his body, straddling him.

He’s naked under you and he hisses at the sudden contact, the feeling lulling your eyes closed as desire slowly pools in your lower stomach, settling promptly and spreading rapidly – a lingering buzz that dawns upon every inch of your body that wants him. His touch, his mouth, his tongue, his voice as he fucks into you.

“I’m up,” he says, eyes finally snapping open and taking you in. He’s not sure if his eyes are deceiving him but you could very well be an angel – the light that creeps past his blinds outlining every curve of your body in a perfect halo. “You’re so beautiful.”

His words are the exact same ones you murmured to him as he slept a couple of minutes prior and you smile, eyes still penetrating his – not shying away once.

“You’re hard.”

A roll of your hips takes the words right from his tongue, replacing them with a faint moan instead, head sinking into the pillow. His responsiveness only makes you that much eager, setting a steady rhythm as you grind your panty covered pussy into him, soaking the thin fabric as he grows to full mast between your folds. The swollen crown of his cock hits at your clit in perfect, repeated motions and the sweet whines that leave your lips land Jungkook straight into a speedy build up. His hands find your hips, grip tightening as he forces your movements to a halt.

“Ah-ah, baby. Slow down.”

“No.”

Your bluntness makes him let out a low chuckle. “I just woke up, it’s a foul. You’re at an advantage.”

“It’s fair play,” your words sync up with the way your hips sink into his once again, small hand traveling down until it lands where your bodies meet. Jungkook’s eyes widen as he takes in the way you push your panties to the side, not wasting a second as you resume your pace. His big cock sits snuggly between your plump folds and the visual alone has him rolling his eyes to the back of his head, a whine breaking in his throat as you begin to go faster.

He gives into it, not caring about how close he is to blowing his load like this, balls heavy as his release nears – the added pleasure of your ass grinding against them only making matters worse for him. His hands fall to your ass, squeezing tightly right in the place where his handprints form a faint shade of red on your skin – aiding the push and pull of your hips, encouraging you to go faster, taking control. And you let him have it. You let him get lost in how good you feel, in how much he wants to fuck you right now but won’t do it because he likes the sweet torture of feeling you like this – no barrier between you two, not nearly enough for how he wants you but enough to take him there.

“Fuck- you’re so fucking wet, baby.”

Your hands find leverage in his chest, palming at his pecs as your own pleasure takes over your every sense. Your clit throbs, pussy clenching around nothing as you circle your hips, the feeling so good it has your nails digging at his flesh. Your hands relax only to find his nipples, nails scraping gently at the hardened nubs. He hisses and you do it again, emitting a throaty moan from him. It draws him painfully close to the edge and his grip on your ass loosens, hands falling to your outer thighs – fingers kneading at the soft flesh.

“Shit- just like that. You’re gonna make me cum, angel.” His voice is raspy and you’re so very tempted to give him what he wants – what he needs the most.

But you don’t, hips raising quickly as your hand travels up, closing slightly around his neck.

“No.”

Everything about this moment throws Jungkook into a frenzied state of shock. His eyes open, widening slightly as your grip around his thick neck tightens – a growl escaping his lips as his orgasm is stripped away from him and a new wave of arousal threatens to break at his insides. He looks up at you, his breathing erratic, eyes glazy and sweat forming at the base of his forehead, matting his dark hair to his skin. Your free hand comes up, gently brushing the strands away and although the action is tender your gaze darkens, hovering over him in a way that has his breath hitching in his throat – something dropping in his lower stomach.

“I said it’s fair play,” you say. All he can do is gawk at you from his vulnerable position. “I want your mouth.”

“H-Have it,” his voice is shaky, faltered by his jumbled breathing.

Your grip around his neck loosens, but the one around his dark hair tightens – walking forwards on your knees, the mattress sinking the further you travel up his torso. Jungkook runs his tongue over his red lips, taking in his view – face to face with your clothed cunt, the soft skin above the hem of your panties so soft, the remnants of a tan casting a glow to your skin that makes it look golden in this light. From this angle, he can see the faint ink of that tattoo he loves so much – delicate like you, even in this forefront. His gaze travels upwards as you discard his oversized hoodie from your body, your soft breasts bouncing slightly as your hands come back down, fingers lacing through his hair.

“Come here,” he says, growing impatient – wanting to taste you.

“Ask nicely.” Your demand is firm, eyes fixed on his shaky ones.

“I want to taste you. Let me make you feel good- please.” He finally gives.

A hazy grin forms in your lips, expression fully lust driven as you walk your knees the extra inch until your pussy hovers over his face perfectly. His arms snake past your thighs, big hands resting over the flesh, pulling you towards him by the ass until his nose against your clit has you throwing your neck back over your shoulders, sending shivers down your spine.

You close your hand around a fistful of hair, pulling until he’s looking up at you – pupils blown, pleading. “Be good. Or you get nothing.” Your power trip takes the both of you by surprise but you don’t show it. He nods, a slight blush forming on his cheeks as he submits fully to you.

His tongue laps at your entrance over your panties, sloppily drenching the fabric further as he licks thick stripes down your center, nose teasing your clit as you draw slow circles with your hips – eyes closing at the feeling as tiny little whimpers leave your lips. Your fingers on his hair alternate between soft caresses and a tight grasp, seeking leverage as the pleasure picks pace inside of you. Your stomach tightens, hips bucking, giving into his incessant assault on your pussy, no hint of a doubt he could have you coming in your panties in a matter of seconds. But you need his tongue. Your fingers hook down the side of your panties, the feeling alone on the sensitive skin making you shiver. Lowering your hips to his face once again, you let his tongue continue his ministrations.

“So good, baby. That feels so good.”

Your praise incites him further, lips closing around your swollen clit, sucking with enough force to have your body jolting forwards, cheek flushed to his headboard as you let out cries of pleasure, letting him know how good he’s being. How good he’s making you feel.

The noises his actions ignite are obscene to say the least but it only adds to your pleasure. You’re so wet, it drives him insane. Tongue coming out past his chin, licking you clean only to resume that torturous suction on your clit – having you gushing out in seconds, juices slick, honey-like and coating his face from the nose down as he drinks you up. He wants every last bit, likes the effect he has on you.

He circles his tongue around your entrance, teasing a bit but not pushing his luck. The wet muscle finally pushes into your hole, shallow but determined strokes, his head moving to the rhythm as he fucks you with it. Your moans make his cock twitch, painfully hard and leaking pre-cum, making a mess out of his lower stomach. He groans, the sound resonating on your walls, his movements not faltering once – the tip of his nose hitting that sensitive bundle of nerves repeatedly until your legs begin to shake over him, thighs closing around his head.

“Oh my God- there. There. Don’t stop, Jungkook.” Your voice is airy, words getting lost in your whimpers and moans as he does just what you ask him. You look down at him, eyes closed, completely lost in your pleasure and his. Your knees begin to shake as you start to lose strength, your orgasm threatening to tip you over the edge and leave you a trembling mess. You tempt it with one last request. “Suck on my clit- Koo, fuck. I’m gonna cum, baby. I’m gonna-”

Jungkook moans. He moans as he sucks your clit, suctioning the little pearl inside his mouth, feeling you come undone – tongue coming out to lap at your entrance, revelling on the way your pussy pulses as you give into that explosion, coming totally undone on top of him. He opens his eyes, not wanting to miss the way your body shakes and your face contorts in pure, unadulterated pleasure.

Your moans begin to faint as you come down, hips raising as you flinch in oversensitivity, a slight unconscious roll to them that has him flicking his tongue against your clit one last time. You look down at him, lopsided smile adorning your lips, a sheen layer of sweat covering your chest, down the valley between your tits.

“W-Was I good?”

“So, so good.”

You walk backwards, slower than you came up – legs still shaky from your orgasm. Jungkook only stares at you, slow blinks, a fucked-out gaze yet his mind is running in anticipation, wanting nothing more than your hands on him. His legs open, welcoming you in as you sit between them, discarding your ruined panties and throwing them aimlessly to the floor. He follows the trail of your movements, eyes glued to your hands as they travel up his muscular thighs until they’re a jerk of his hips away from landing where he wants you most. He stays still, but his cock twitches, landing back on his pelvis and making him hiss.

“You made a mess,” you say, index finger tracing the skin below his belly button, wetting it with the sticky pre-cum and bringing it to your mouth, past your lips, circling your tongue around it. You taste him, eyes closing for a brief second only to find his own shiny ones, big and doe like – eyebrows scrunched up as he dances the line between pleasure and pain.

“Please, ___.”

“Please what, Koo?”

“P-Please,” he whines, mind strained as he tries to collect his thoughts. “Touch me, baby. Please.” The last word is but an airy whisper and his pleads tug at your heart, his voice so sweet, demeanour so pliant. So surrendered to you.

You decide to give him a little say – a reward for putting full trust on you. Finger still hooked between your lips; you look up at him. “Do you want my mouth? Or my hands…,” the same wet finger travels down, tracing his shaft – making him buck his hips against it, the touch bordering on torturous, in need of friction. Your fingers travel to your pussy, his eyes following their every movement as they dive between your folds, collecting your slick before you circle them slowly against your clit. “My pussy?” Your voice makes him look back at your face, those same pleading eyes. “I’m so wet, Koo…”

“F-fuck- I can see that.” He muses, voice slightly cocky – too much for your liking, at least. You raise a brow at him, narrowing your gaze. “Your pussy, baby. Please let me fuck you.”

Your gaze darkens, eyes squinting slightly and your silence lets him know he’s walked himself into something he doesn’t think he’s able to sit patiently through.

Your body lowers, confirming his suspicions as you wrap your hand around his shaft, pumping as you circle your wrist – rapidly picking pace as your lips close around his head, tongue circling around it before you suck frivolously, not giving him time to settle into one feeling before you’re handing him another.

“Fuck- fuck. I’m gonna cum if you do that.” His tone hints panic, voice lilting at the end as it turns into a moan.

“You won’t.”

“Baby,”

You shoot him a wicked grin before your head lowers once again, resuming your diabolical blowjob that has Jungkook fighting with his own pleasure, his taut stomach muscles tightening as he focuses on his breathing, eyes closing and fingers pulling at his own hair, trying to ground himself. When you take him all the way in, throat closing around his crown, his fist closes around the sheets, knuckles turning white with force.

“Fuck my mouth, Koo. I want to feel you.” Your command is swift and when your eyes meet his he looks like he could cry at any moment, but nonetheless he obliges. So, so good for you as both his hands land gently at the sides of your face, caressing briefly before tightening his grip slightly. His hips push upwards, cock immediately hitting the back of your throat as you close it around his sensitive head. You’re prepared when he fucks into your mouth, gag reflex non-existent as you suction him in – the push and pull of his thrusts and your throat contracting around his dick, making Jungkook’s hands shake against your cheeks.

“C-Can’t- too much, please,” he cries.

Your mouth releases his cock from its tight grip, giving him a couple of languid pumps as your body climbs on top of his, lips finding his own for the first time in what feels like forever to Jungkook.

“I m-missed your lips.” His voice is soft, a combination of his state and the way your mouth feels on his – tender but full of intent, tongue dancing with his as you lean into the kiss, moaning as you taste him, you on him, him on you. The two of you together.

“They’re yours, baby.” Your touch is soft as you push his bangs away from his face, kissing his forehead gently. He whimpers, keening into your touch – his own lips forming a pout, placing a gentle kiss against your throat.

“I need you, please,” his lips travel down, hesitant and sweet, open-mouthed kisses on your collarbones “Want to feel you.”

“You will, Koo. You’ve been so good- made me feel so good, baby.”

He nods sheepishly at your words, eyes closing as you plant one last kiss to his cheek before you’re reaching to his bedside table for a condom. He whines a little at the loss of proximity, wanting your body. Needing to feel you however he can have you. He’s been patient – too patient.

“How do you want me?” You ask, bringing the foil package to your teeth and ripping it open. It takes him awhile to process your question, eyes fixed on your mouth, mind lost in finally having you. You want nothing more than to please him, to follow his every wish.

“Like this. Ride me baby, please.”

And he’s just so polite, his voice so quiet, a little timbre to it – a little shake. So overwhelmed and drawn over the edge. He’s all for you, wanting to give himself to you entirely. He wants to be held, wants to see you as you fuck him – wants it slow. He just wants you.

You comply, straddling his lap once again as you roll the condom on. You’re more than ready to take him, your slick running down your inner thighs and making a mess out of his. But nonetheless, you’re used to the stretch of his fingers and his swollen cock looks intimidating right now. You lower your head, collecting saliva in your mouth before you let it fall, slowly landing on the tip of his cock, making him hiss.

“You’ve been so good, Koo. So good for me. I want you so fucking bad.”

Jungkook nods at your words, a small whine leaving his swollen, bitten red lips. His big eyes are glassy, shaky hands gently grabbing at your hips, bringing your body closer to his. His touch isn’t firm, no set pace to his actions – he’s completely given up to you. Let you claim him, have him. And perhaps this is your way to seal the sea of feelings that you wish you could speak. Your own way of telling him I want you to be mine.

You stare at him, his big expectant eyes looking up at you as if you held the secrets to the most precious resolutions of the world. His touch feels like burning coal on your skin, velvety yet fiery – so beautifully dangerous. You stroke his cheek, your own actions as gentle as his.

“You’re so beautiful, Jungkook.” He shies at your praise, cheeks tinting a soft red, a lopsided smile forming at his lips before he draws them in-between his teeth, biting slightly as his eyes follow the movements of your body. You reach for his cock, pumping once, twice before you align him to your dripping cunt, teasing yourself a little as you roll your hips. He moans, the sensitive tip grazing your clit a couple of times before you’re finally sinking your hips into his, taking him all the way in at once.

“Shit, shit- gahh, baby- you’re so tight.”

“Jungkook,” his name is a moan, leaving your pouty lips and hitting him straight where he wants you most.

“Mm- ff-fuck. Please, baby- fuck me.”

You comply. You give him what he wants because he’s everything you want. Your hands palm at his chest, feeling his heartbeat on your flesh, finding leverage on his firm muscles as you begin the sweet push and pull of your hips. Your eyes never once break away from his, fighting to stay open as he lets pleasure take over him – the feeling of your snug walls around his swollen cock so overwhelmingly good. He’s been on edge for longer than he can find sane words to describe but having you like this makes him want to delay his release for as long as he can. He wants to see you, feel you for a while longer.

You raise your hips until it’s just his crown being swallowed by your pussy, pulsing uncontrollably as you try to bring yourself down – ever so close to the edge, too. Jungkook wants to touch you, run circles with his thumb over your clit, feel how wet you are, have you coming undone over him, around him. Your breath is shaky already and he wants to hear you – to know just what he does to you. But he doesn’t. He lets you see what you do to him, lets you bask on the notion that the effect you have on his body is like nothing he’s experienced before.

He cries when you take him all the way in once again, so deep and forceful his eyes win the fight, shutting close as his back arches, head sinking into the pillows as he feels that steady climb. It feels so good – you feel so good, his eyes prickle with tears, erratic puffs of air leaving his mouth as you ride him faster.

“Feel good, Koo?”

“Yes. Yes, that feels s-so- good. Fuck, ___.”

“I’m so close, baby – fuck me please.”

At your request, he does just that. His feet push into the mattress, his grip on your hips tightening just enough so that he can keep you still as he begins to thrust, cock pistoning into you. You feel so full, mind hazy and knees weak as he hits that spot inside of you repeatedly – not faltering once, putting all the energy he’d been saving into ripping that explosion inside of you. He bites his lips, brows furrowed, eyes on a back and forth between revelling on the way your bodies connect and your bouncing tits above him. Your plump pussy lips are swollen, hugging his cock perfectly. All of you is so fucking perfect.

“Let me touch you, baby. Please let me make you cum,” he asks, voice soft, big eyes pleading and you can only nod your head once – not a single inch of space inside your brain for anything but him and how good he feels inside of you.

His thumb lands on your clit, slipping a few times and he moans over how much you’re dripping around him. He draws tight little circles around your nub and it’s a matter of seconds before you feel that pressure in your lower stomach, hips bucking and legs closing in around him.

“Fuck- I’m gonna cum, Koo. I’m gonna cum,” your high-pitched moans fill the room, a string of yes following as his thumb moves faster, swiftly until the world stops for about a second and you cum – hard and loud around his cock.

“Fuck- yes, baby- yes.” He praises between gritted teeth.

Your head is foggy, limbs weak as you ride the last remnants of your orgasm, gathering in your last stretch of strength as you take a hold of both his wrists, pushing them away from you and pinning them against the mattress. You sit on his cock until he bottoms out, not moving, just letting him feel your walls clench around him. He whimpers, whole body shaking slightly as goosebumps form on his skin, turning his head from you as he lets out a moan.

“Look at me.”

You roll your hips once, clenching around him deliberately and he does – he looks at you, so utterly fucked out, so pushed to his very own limit he can’t even find coherent words, just a soft whisper of your name. You start moving, fucking him again – full control as all he can do is stare at you. You kiss those soft little whines from his lips, tongue licking at his until he’s hissing, his senses so powered up every touch feels like fire on his skin. Another roll of your hips throws him dangerously close to the edge, a loud cry passing his lips, falling straight into your mouth.

“I’m gonna- please let me cum. Please, baby, I’m-”

He’s so sweet, and ever so yours, to deny him.

You kiss him once more, short but deep before you say, “cum for me, Koo. Let go.”

And all it takes is your honeyed words and lips on his once again as you kiss him for him to finally hand all power back to his body as he cums hard, spilling into the condom as you still your movements, feeling the way he throbs, the warmth. You bite on his bottom lip, swallowing his moans as his body jerks and shakes under you, riding the final seconds of his orgasm, longer than expected, taking you both by surprise.

“Oh, fuck…” he says, head spinning. He feels exhausted, fighting with the oversensitivity, not strong enough to move or pull away. Enjoying the feeling of your body on top of his as you relax against him.

You pull away, rolling to the side until your back hits the mattress. You look at him, hand outstretching as your fingers lace themselves in his hair, giggling as the touch makes him shiver.

“That was so good.”

He looks at you, shiny eyes and lazy smile – so dreamy.

“I’m glad you sought justice.”

You laugh. “Fair-play.”

He bites his lip, gaze darkening. “Fair play.”

~

Jungkook’s fingers tap mindlessly to the beat of the music coming from the stereo. One of his hands grips the steering wheel firmly and the other sits between your legs, snaked around your inner thigh as he squeezes. You’re singing along, head leaning from side to side to the rhythm. He turns to you for a brief second, smiling. Your eyes are glued to the view ahead as you enter his parent’s posh neighbourhood. It’s quiet and serene, in perfect tune to what characterizes places like this on a Saturday.

The trees are green and full, the fences tall, keeping the houses out of reach from the world – each its own little bubble. You can tell its old money, vintage cars adorning the classic architecture of the houses. It’s different from Jungkook’s neighbourhood – more intimidating and secluded.

“Did you grow up here?”

“Mhm,” he says, thumb gently caressing the soft skin of your thigh.

“Did you have neighbourhood friends?”

Jungkook chuckles. “Jin and Jiminie lived a couple of blocks away from me.”

“Did you decorate for Halloween?”

He frowns at your question. “Mm, nothing too extravagant. Just your standard.”

“That’s sad. This place has a lot of potential.”

He throws his head back, laughing at your remark. “Soori was very little last year but, I want to dress her up this year. Take her trick or treating or something. She’ll probably be walking by then.”

Your eyes widen in excitement, clapping your hands as you say, “oh, oh, oh! Halloween’s my favorite holiday. Christmas, too. And Valentine’s Day. Easter’s always fun, too.”

“That’s all the holidays, baby.”

“I’m not picky.” You say, smiling and entwining your fingers in his. “What are you going to dress her up as?”

Jungkook drives up his parent’s entryway, retrieving a small remote control that opens the tall gates.

“I don’t know yet,” he ponders for a minute before he turns to you, “maybe you can help me?”

You look at him, big smile forming on your lips as you nod excitedly. “My pleasure.”

The gates open and your mouth gapes, gawking in awe at the sight before you. A French Renaissance style home, cream walls and dark ceilings making up its tall structure. Big windows adorn the walls, framing the tall entrance. A beautifully sculpted garden of red roses and green bushes open way for its magnificence.

“Woah,” you whisper.

“They’re minimalists.” Jungkook teases, sarcasm lacing his tone.

“Can’t believe you grew up in an actual Chateau.” You say, making him chuckle once again.

“I’ll be right back, baby.” Jungkook’s soft lips peck your cheek loudly, making you giggle before you nod.

He smiles, taking one last look at you before he’s exiting the car, walking towards his parent’s front door. It’s a hot summer day and he knows they’re going to be making the most of it, probably having breakfast by the sun in the garden.

He enters their home, pace picking up as he makes his way to the backyard. He can make out the smell of freshly squeezed orange juice and sweet pastries coming from the kitchen, slightly enticing. He wishes he could stay – with you. Eat breakfast with his parents, have them get to know you. If they knew you, really knew you, they’d like you. His father already does, although he’s not so sure how fondly he’d feel of the fact that you’ve grown close enough to comfort to his family. To him and Soori. An unconscious frown adorns his face. Out of all the things he worried about when it came to you, his parents’ opinion was never one. He realizes he might’ve given himself a mental hall pass, having too much on his mind to give it a second thought. After all, Jungkook had set flight on his own at an early age - claiming independence, an unspoken deal between the three of them.

His father had realized his potential, being their only child and chance at keeping The West End a family affair. But Jungkook was far too in tune with his own sense of self – ‘head in the clouds’ his mom would say, condescending, but in her language, a soft way to justify his ways. So, they’d seen eye to eye – he’d take over the business, making use of that innate talent his father had seen in him. And in return, they’d let him do it with passion – his way.

So far, the deal had worked. Jungkook was the man his father had envisioned him as, in surface. An extraordinary CEO, capable of running the business and making it soar to grounds above. Bringing freshness and new approaches to it, something they both deemed important. Not only that but he was a great father, a family man. With these two covered, there was little say they had in his life – another thing all parties involved were aware of.

But what’s so rebellious about the life Jungkook had lived until now? The modern and envied cookie cutter outcome of socialites. He met a beautiful girl and established a serious relationship. They both built respectable names for themselves, a society. The infamous power couple title that was bestowed upon them by the back and forth gossip their relationship brought into their radius. They had a baby, built a family, became the dream of many and set themselves for a destined future together. His parents never dared have a say because there was nothing to object. He’d landed right where he ‘belonged’, as ironic as it sounds.

You go against the morale of everything that his destiny deems to be the right path. It’s the cliché that could land him in misinterpretations if exposed to the public – the love affair with the nanny, younger than him, from a different ‘world’. The thought alone aggravates him, growing defensive over the possibility of anyone putting an adjective that you don’t deserve over your name.

A new set of fears occur him. You are not where his doubt lays – at this point, saying he’s not sure of how important you’ve become in not only his but his daughter’s life would be hypocritical towards himself, a self-inflicted lie. A defense mechanism. It’s the easiest way out, but also the most painful. When he walks towards you in the wake of uncertainty, he feels safe.

What makes him doubt is the side effect, what it would entail for you. You’re so young, so full of life. Would he ever be able to take on the guilt of stripping you off your freedom in the name of what Jungkook feels brewing in his chest.

In the name of something that feels awfully close to love.

His pondering is cut short as he finally reaches the open doors that lead to the garden.

“Darling!” His mother chirps, cup of coffee in hand as she beckons to him.

Soori squeals, jumping excitedly in her high chair, the same one he used to sit on when he was her age. It’s a bit of a relic and a mixture of nostalgia and the soothing feeling that settles upon him when he sees her makes him smile.

“Good morning,” he says, walking straight towards Soori. “Hi, princess. I missed you, baby.” He undoes the straps that restrain her, chubby hands excitedly reaching for him. Once she’s finally in his arms, he brings her closer, placing a loud kiss on her cheek. And then another, repeating the action until she’s squirming, pushing him away as she giggles. He smells her hair, takes a good look at her. He missed her. “How was she?”

“Delightful.” His father says, eyes leaving the newspaper he’s holding for the first time since Jungkook stepped inside veranda.

“Mrs. Lee just changed her. She’s inherited your appetite, honey. Table manners, too.” His mom adds, shaking her head.

“That’s my girl.” Jungkook says, kissing Soori’s cheeks once again.

“Sit down, son. We’ve set up a place for you.” His father tells him, eyes back on his paper as he motions to the chair at the far end of the table.

“Thank you, but I gotta run.”

“You do not, darling. It’s a Saturday.”

“___’s waiting for us in the car.”

He could’ve made up any excuse but he decides to test the waters. His boldness takes everyone in the table by surprise.

His father’s eyes are back on him. “Why’s that?”

“She’s Soori’s nanny.”

“I thought you mentioned she didn’t work on weekends.” His mother muses.

He doesn’t have to lie; he knows this much. More importantly, he doesn’t want to lie. But he can’t find words to explain either. It’s then that he realizes that he’s grown feelings for you that are more complex than he’d originally thought. Complex enough to explain to himself, let alone to other people.

Not to mention his parents.

So, Jungkook lies.

“I’m working today.”

At this, the tension in the room dissipates. But it only grows stronger inside Jungkook’s chest. His mother nods, humming in acknowledgment. His father’s gaze fixes back to the news, silent for a moment before he adds: “Don't work on weekends unless it’s outmost necessary, son.”

“Noted.” He affirms.

“Come by for lunch tomorrow?” His mother approaches them, giving Soori a gentle kiss on the cheek.

“Sure, I’d love that, mom.” She pats him on the cheek, walking him to the front door to see the two of them off.

Once they make it to the tall wooden doors, she pauses, hesitating for a moment as he swings them open. She looks at you, eyes fixed downwards as you wait patiently, sat in the passenger’s seat.

“How old is she?” His mother asks.

“Huh?” Jungkook says, turning to look at her, confusion lacing his features until he follows her line of vision and his eyes land on you. “Oh. Uh- she’s twenty-three.”

“Awfully young.” Her tone is soft, strikingly contrasting her words.

“Yeah.”

“She must need the money. To be working weekends, I mean.”

Jungkook stares at his mother, his eyes trying to fish for something that would give away the motives of her small talk away. He finds nothing, just contemplation. Nonetheless, her tone is suggestive enough to make him feel defensive.

“Anything wrong with that?”

She turns to him, silent for a brief second as she takes him in. “No. Don’t overwork her, that’s all.” She gives him a tight-lipped smile.

“Noted.” He returns it.

~

Soori’s tiny fist grips tightly to your index and middle finger, her other holding tightly to her dad’s thumb. Her steps intercalate with short little jumps here and there as she grows excited. Jungkook bends a little, trying to follow her pace and you do the same – the three of you surrounded by the tall bookshelves that make up the library. It’s empty and a peaceful silence fills the walls, only broken by Soori’s unintelligible babble. But she only adds to the peace, sweet coos warming your heart as she looks around her and smiles at nothing in particular – just taking the world in.

It’s still fifteen minutes until book club and you’ve spent the past ten minutes just like this. So far, this one dates to one of your favourite Saturdays of the Summer, only dethroned by the one that landed Jungkook in one of these same hallways. The Saturday he kissed you.

“I love today.”

You’re sincere, always speaking your mind. Jungkook can almost predict when you’re about to do so – taking in the way you contemplate, dreamy sighs passing your lips, a softness to your eyes that he can only mimic.

“Me too.”

“Thank you.”

He stops in his tracks, looking up at you. “You don’t have to thank me, baby.”

“I want to.”

He loves that about you.

“Hey, what are you doing after? We can wait around in the area and then go get some pizza once you’re done? Mai, Tae and Dae can come with.”

“I’d love that, Koo.”

“Perfect, baby.”

He leans closer to you, still in that bent over position and it makes you giggle. He narrows his eyes at you for a second before that signature pout shapes his lips. His eyes close in anticipation. You kiss his cheek instead.

“Excuse me,” he begins, eyes opening, gasping in mock shock.

You look at him, no longer laughing but simply taking him in. Your smile speaks words that he can’t hear, yet he feels them.

You tell him anyways.

“I like you so much, Jungkook.”

He straightens, taking Soori in his arms, bouncing her on his hips as she mewls, displeased at being back in the air.

“___,” he holds your gaze, his own avalanche of feelings breaking in his chest. So much to say, so little words he can find. He wonders how something so soft can produce such great fears inside of him. He sighs, finding a middle ground. “I like you, too.”

It’s the truth.

But not the whole truth.

~

You smile at Soori as she hands you one of her blocks, taking it from her and when you do, she grabs a hold of another one and proceeds to do the same. You put them in one of her baskets, tidying up after a day of, you will admit, mostly playing. She deserves it – it is her birthday tomorrow after all.

“Thank you, Soo,” you coo at her as she hands you another block. She smiles, seemingly proud of herself, babbling a response your way. “You’re such a big girl. Don’t tell daddy, though.”

“Dada?” She chirps excitedly, head turning frantically towards the front door as she scans the space for him.

“Not yet, baby. Soon though! Let’s finish cleaning.”

She just stares at you, confused for a second but then back to her smiling self, passing you more toys so that you can put them away. She’s so smart – quick for her age and overall, the best baby. You love her so much.

You can’t help but think about that conversation you had with Mai during the hotel inauguration – back when Jungkook was an enigma you were yet to decipher. How she’d told you how Soori was everything good about him. How she perfectly mirrored all his goodness. You look at her now, thinking about him. They’re everything there is to love.

They’re the extra in the ordinary.

So easy to fall for.

The front door swings open, making Soori squeal in excitement, falling to the floor from her standing position against the coffee table. She begins to crawl, attempting to round the sofa and getting frustrated halfway.

You pick her up, holding her in your arms as you walk towards the doorway. “Come on, baby. Let’s say hi to daddy, yeah?”

She claps her hands in excitement, outstretching them towards Jungkook as soon as she sees him. He smiles, warm relief swarming his inside as he sees her.

“Hi, princess. Missed you.”

She falls to his arms, a muffled Dada leaving her tiny lips as he kisses her cheeks with enough force to squish them.

“How was your day,” you ask him.

He mimics his previous actions, holding your face in his hands, squeezing gently as he kisses your cheek.

“Hi, baby. Missed you.”

“I missed you, too.” You blush, never fully getting used to him coming home.

To him coming home to you.

“It was good – happy the week’s over, though. What about yours? Did you two have fun today?” He looks at Soori, bouncing her a little until she’s letting out those soft baby giggles he loves so much.

“Yep. Had the best day ever. We just played.”

You sound genuinely excited and it makes his heart skip a beat – making him melt a little.

“That’s good. A fun last stretch before she’s one,” he kisses her chubby cheeks again.

You squeal in excitement. “I can’t wait.”

Jungkook simply smiles, a fond expression to his face as he looks at his daughter. But his eyes say more than he lets out – his passive demeanour alerting you that something’s on his mind.

“Hey, what are you two doing tonight?” You ask him, brushing Soori’s silky hair from her face. She needs a haircut.

“Mm, didn’t have many plans. Some dinner, maybe a movie.”

His tone is nonchalant but your question weighs heavy on him.

All week had been filled with excitement leading up to Soori’s first birthday – a milestone that they’d both reached. It made him feel proud, not only making it this far but also seeing how perfect his daughter was. In every sense – how she grew and developed new skills every day. Soori was everything Jungkook dreamt of when the first idea of her blossomed in his heart. But this moment wasn’t.

It’d hit him – slowly like painful things often do. You’re envisioning a certain scenario, some mundane and ordinary in nature and then reality settles upon you like an unwelcomed guest that you have to entertain for the sake of nothing that’s justifiable. He didn’t have to entertain the feeling further – simply realizing that Ira wouldn’t be here to witness her first birthday could’ve been enough. But one intrusive thought led to the other, undoing the tight knot he’d wrapped around the part of his heart that still hurt for her.

It was a domino effect, one realization after the other. He thought about him and Soori sat in front of her birthday cake, smiling. How that’d be the family picture that would characterize that day. He wondered if she’ll ask about it when he handed her the box of polaroid’s he’d been collecting with her every milestone. He thought about the way he’s now Dada to her, pained with the idea that soon enough she’ll have to learn Mama. It angered him, how the word felt so empty in comparison to his.

The idea of missing from Soori’s life terrified him. He wanted to be there for her. Birthdays, first days of school, first words and steps. Graduations and celebrations – he felt the vital need to be there. He couldn’t grasp his head around the idea of Ira not wanting the same.

Thinking of his daughter, Jungkook realized that he was enough for her. But in moments like these he felt like his love was scarce. Like his voice was too quiet as he walked her through life.

Four months ago, he thought his plans today would consist of reminiscing on his daughter’s first year of life. Being stripped of that weighs heavy on him.

“Why don’t you two come over for a little bit? Lucy made lasagna and I heard they’re dyeing Jimin’s hair back to black, or at least attempting to.”

Jungkook stares at you, slightly confused as to how you always manage to make him come afloat when that heaviness makes him feel like he’s sinking. How you make him feel like he can breathe.

He hesitates for a second and you almost think of saying something along the lines of it’s cool if not though, don’t worry but you realize how silly that would sound, so you stand your ground; big eyes looking up at him, smile still on your face.

He looks down at Soori who smiles at him. “Yeah, we’d love that.”

~

“Eeeeeeeeeeeeek, baby!” Lucy claps her hands together at the sight of a very giggly Soori, still in her father’s arms as the three of you enter the apartment.

“Soo-Soo!” Jimin comes out of the bathroom, a clear shower cap over his head as he lets the dye settle into his hair.

“You’re a toxic hazard, no getting close to baby.” Lucy says, shoving a hand in his chest and pushing him back. She looks up at Jungkook. “Hi. Can I hold her?”

Jungkook stares at Soori and then back up at her. “Hi. Uh- yeah, sure.”

Soori’s comfortable in Lucy arms, loving the excitement she feels at seeing her – simply basking in the love and attention. It’s so easy, so simple to love her. It makes Jungkook’s heart soothe itself slightly, the idea that the world sees that gentleness in her that he loves so much.

“Can she eat lasagna?”

Lucy’s question makes him chuckle. “Yeah. Just- tiny pieces.”

“Tiny pieces for the tiny baby, gotcha.”

Without wasting another second, she walks towards the kitchen, proceeding to plate it in a small bowl for her.

“We should probably keep an eye out – this place is not babyproof and neither is Lucy.” You say, eyes on them like a hawk.

Jungkook smiles. “She’ll be fine.”

“Do you want lasagna?”

He nods. “Yeah, baby. Thank you.”

You give him a nod and a smile, heading to the kitchen to help Lucy out. Jungkook heads to the bathroom, a frowning Jimin inspecting the DIY dye job he and Lucy had done. There’s still patches of bleached hair, even miscellaneous strands of pink here and there. Jungkook chuckles, hands inside his pockets as he takes his friend in.

“What’s so funny” Jimin sneers when he notices him.

“You? Duh.”

“Duh- what are you? Twelve?”

“Twelve-year-old me could’ve done a better job than that.” Jungkook says, tilting his chin towards his hair.

“Ha-ha, very clever.”

“In fact, twelve-year-old me probably did. Here, sit down.”

Jimin sits down on the toilet seat, eyes following Jungkook as he steps inside the small bathroom. A heart-shaped magnet holds a polaroid of you and Lucy, bright smiles adorning both your faces. It makes him grow soft. He proceeds to put gloves on, hands giving the bleach a mix before he walks towards his friend – inspecting the damage done and crafting a solution.

“How are you?” Jimin asks.

“Me? Fine. Why?” Jungkook doesn’t look at him, eyes fixated on his hair as his fingers move through the strands of hair.

“Because I’ve known you for far more years I wish to at times, dumbass. And if you’re not fine, it’s okay.”

He looks down at Jimin, a snarky remark threatening to leave his lips just so he can cover the sadness that takes over him when reminded of why his friend's sixth sense is ticking. But he’s too tired to pretend.

“She’s turning one tomorrow.”

“Nostalgic or… something else?”

“Something else. Or maybe nostalgic, I don’t know. Maybe it’s nostalgia for something I won’t have. She won’t have.”

“Gguk. Soori has an army of people that love and adore her. Tomorrow’s going to be special. And fun. And she won’t remember anything but we’ll make sure to tell her just how happy she was. How happy we all were.”

Jungkook nods, a faint smile on his lips. “Yeah.”

“And don’t you dare for a fucking minute think you’re not enough for that little girl. Or that she would’ve done any better.”

He looks down at him, confused at his sudden change in demeanour.

“I know that. Soori doesn’t. Or- she won’t. In the future, I mean.”

“That’s far from now, Gguk. I get it- or well, I try to. I understand where you’re coming from. Maybe I see things with a bigger perspective, maybe being on the outside looking in allows me to make things simpler than they are. But I think you need to hear simple answers to the harshness you’re putting on yourself. You love Soori. You’re her world. You need to start understanding that that is the root of all things. That as hard as the road gets, if you have that, wherever it takes you it will be enough.”

Jungkook thinks of the first time he saw his daughter, of all the unspoken promises he made to her when he held her tiny body in his arms. That incessant need he had to make the world a good place for her – even if he could only do with so much. He now realizes that that promise had kickstarted something inside of him. Something that made him softer, more vulnerable. A thing that only grew with her.

He thinks of you. Of his feelings for you that oftentimes feel like a road with a destination he can’t attest for – a place within him he’s never explored before. But he knows that the beginning of it was pure, a thing you would perhaps call love. A thing that only grows, too.

~

You knock on Jungkook’s doorbell, taking a step back and waiting for the door to swing open. You fidget in place, in half excitement and half nerves. Your pink sundress blows in the wind slightly – it’s a perfect summer day, in tune with the perfect summer baby that you can’t wait to cuddle in what you hope is a matter of minutes. You’re carrying a medium-sized pink box, a white ribbon around it, tied in a perfect knot at the top – her birthday present.

The door swings open, a big smile taking over your face immediately at the sight of Soori and Jungkook. He looks at you, takes you in. Your pretty pink dress and white converse. He looks down at Soori, smiling. Your eyes grow shiny at the sight of her. She’s wearing a one-shouldered baby pink tulle dress, a pink bow wrapping around the middle like she’s by far the best present at this birthday party. Hint: she is. She jumps in her dad’s hold excitedly, swinging her little feet back and forth, white converse on hers, too.

You put the box on the floor for a brief moment and right as you come back up, she free-falls into your arms, taking both you and her dad by surprise. She screams, loud giggles leaving her lips at being with you again.

“Happy birthday, bub.” You hold her to you, cheek to cheek, so tight but she lets you cuddle her – something that has become a rare occurrence with most people nowadays. You look up at Jungkook, smiling softly when you say, “and happy first year as a dad, Koo.”

He doesn’t think about it twice, doesn’t double check his surroundings to make sure nobody’s looking. He simply takes one step forwards and wraps you in his arms, Soori included. He hugs you, breathing in your scent, just letting himself enjoy how happy he is to see you – all smiles and party ready, accidentally matching with Soori.

“Thank you for coming.” He means it. Not as a formality, but from a place that acknowledges the comfort that settles through him.

“Thank you for having me.” Your gratitude doesn’t come from formalities either.

“Come in. You hungry? There’s a hot dog stand. Soo already had two.”

“All by herself?” You coo, baby voice on.

“Mhm,” he assures.

“Seriously can’t wait for you to talk, baby girl.”

Jungkook laughs at this, hand softly placed on your back as he walks you towards the backyard.

It’s a safari dreamland – all pink, gold and brown. Balloons taking over the space in various forms and shapes, a tepee at the very back with various animal statues sat at the front – a zebra, an elephant and of course, a giraffe, so realistic you can barely believe your eyes. Her cake sits proudly on a table, a three-piece wonder, courtesy of Lucy, surrounded by delicious looking pastries all matching the décor. Her name sits on top of the cake in blue candied syrup letters: Soori.

“Your wedding is going to have competition, Miss Blue.”

“Oof,” Jungkook says, hand on his heart as he sighs dramatically. “One big day at a time.”

You laugh. “Sorry, sorry. This is amazing, Koo. You’re-”

“What?”

It takes you a minute to answer. “The best. You’re the best dad.”

“Thank you. That means… a lot. Specially today.”

“Not just because of- all this,” you say, “but because she’s perfect, Jungkook. She’s perfect and she’s all you. You did this.”

Jungkook’s face is as serene as ever, small smile forming at his lips. But his heart is going places, an erratic beat to it that forms specks of something so warm inside of him – bursting rapidly, flowing through his every being until it’s leaving his lips.

“You too.”

You turn to him, eyes wide. “Huh?”

“You take care of her. But you do more than that and… I’m grateful. I see her in you. I like seeing her in you.”

Your brain tries to compute words but fails, not being able to think of an answer rather than I love her. I love you. That’s the more than that that he refers to: love.

“I-”

“___!” Mai’s voice startles you, making you jump slightly. She smiles at you, Kenny at her side, smiling too.

“Hi guys,” you say, regaining your composure and steading your heart that had grown frenzied just a couple of seconds ago.

“It’s so good to see you again, ___.” Kenny adds, taking Soori in her arms as she reaches for her. Once she’s finally settled, she looks back at you, changing her mind and going back to you. You take her in your arms, making everyone laugh. “She loves you.”

“Oh, like crazy.” Mai says.

You smile. “It’s nice to see you guys, too.”

She loves you.

Like crazy.

It echoes in Jungkook’s head, louder and louder with each passing second.

~

Soori’s eyes are a carbon copy of her dad’s. Big and doe like. They get puffy underneath when she smiles, just like right now. So shiny they look glassy as she claps to the beat of the people that love her the most singing her happy birthday. She struggles to keep focus on just one thing – eyes zooming from her cake and bright candles to every single person that surrounds the table. She finds your eyes, smiling just like hers and she giggles. She has no idea what’s going on but she loves it. She enjoys the love, the smiles of everyone on her. You’re far away – too far away and she doesn’t know better than associate you with happy moments.

Her arms reach for you, hands opening and closing in grabby motions, whining a little when all you do is wave and smile. Jungkook looks down at her and then at you. You give him a crooked smile, chuckling a bit at her insistence. When everyone breaks out in cheers, clapping loudly, her attention goes back to the crowd. She giggles, clapping along, too.

Jungkook kisses his daughter’s cheek, bringing her closer to him. His voice is a whisper only for her to hear when he says, “happy birthday, princess. Make a wish.”

They lean closer to the cake, his hand gently keeping her from getting too close to the flame.

It’s her wish but he makes it for her.

He doesn’t see it but you’ve got his polaroid ready, finger on the shutter, pushing into it at the most perfect time – big smiles adorning both their faces as they look at each other, ready to blow her candles. He does it for her, another round of applause and coos following, making Soori jump excitedly. She’s so happy, so full of love and life it gives Jungkook just that.

He looks over at you, finding your eyes with his own, his smile only growing bigger when he sees you. You shake the camera in your hand, showing it to him. He mouths a thank you and you wink. Soori finds you, too, whining and squirming until you’re walking closer to her. She falls in your arms once again and points to her cake, determined in having you see it even though she’s being swarmed with kisses and praises by her honorary aunts and uncles – all the people that took part in her first year of life.

It’s picture perfect. More so from afar.

Jungkook’s parents stand at a far end corner of the table, smiles on their faces as they see the moment unfold. They’re not very sentimental people yet they both acknowledge they managed to make just that. It fills them with pride and something they’d never thought they’d experience when Jungkook first came into the world.

He emits warmth – even to them.

“You were right.”

His father’s tone holds that stern nonchalance that characterizes him.

“Mhm,” his mother’s gaze doesn’t falter once. She nods, a tight-lipped smile on her lips as she focuses on you. Her granddaughter in your arms, her son smiling as she feeds Soori a piece of cake. She feels the flash go off before she sees your startled expressions, looking around until she catches Taehyung at the opposite side of the table, shaking the polaroid of you three he’d taken. “What are we going to do about it, darling?”

“I’ll talk to him.”

“No more suffering.” She turns to her husband whose eyes remain on his son. “I want to be there, too.”

“You bend too much for him. Always have.”

“He’s been through enough.”

“Yet he’s walking himself into another mess.”

Jungkook’s mother sighs.

“Head in the clouds, always.”

His father nods. “I’ll draw sense into him.”

He fixes his tie, a curt smile on his face as he rounds the table, walking towards his son.

“Hey, hey- wait! This one’s a bit blurry. Let’s take another one. Smileeeeee!”

Soori’s in your arms and she follows Taehyung’s command, big smile plastered on her face, flashing her perfect set of teeth top and bottom. Her cheeks grow puffy, eyes barely closed with how big she’s smiling. You turn towards the camera, mimicking her actions.

Jungkook does the same, standing behind Soori and leaning his chin on top of her head. She lets out a breathy giggle, taking the two of you by surprise, looking down at her lovingly in perfect sync just as Taehyung takes the picture.

He looks at you and the words that have been echoing inside his mind the whole day take on a new form.

He loves you.

Like crazy.

And picture-perfect captures just that.

~

yeah.

yup!

let me know what you guys thought! i love talking to you guys and i feel like this one’s going to stir some (healthy!) conversations. thank u for all the love and support and for being here, enjoying my lil story. i love u guys sm. i’m sending kisses and infinite love your way <3 xx.

~

★ taglist ★

Her loud baby giggles fill the room, putting near stars in the eyes of her grandparents. “Da-da,” she finally gives, closing her chubby fists on her dad’s hand, attempting to push them away. When he ceases the tickles, she looks up at him, tentatively bringing his hand back on her round tummy and staring into his eyes as she waits for him to do it again. He does, emitting those sweet sounds from her once over.

“Oh! Ggukie.” His mother’s voice is soft, a rare occurrence that Jungkook doesn’t miss. “She is so smart. So, so smart.”

“She’s not even one, yet! She’s advanced.” His dad’s words shock him – never having been one for premature praise.

He looks at Soori, a proud smile on his face. She can break even the toughest of men. She’s magic.

“Right? She’s going to be walking in no time, too.” He brags.

“All before one, as well! You didn’t walk until one and a half.” His mother points out, the glass of red wine in her hand swaying a bit at her exaggerated motions.

“Honey, did you tell him about our birthday gift for Soori?” His dad asks, tone suddenly stern as he composes himself from swooning over his grandchild.

“No, honey. I was going to wait until her birthday next week. But since you haven’t practiced patience since 1973, I guess we can tell him now.”

Jungkook laughs at their harmless bickering. “You guys didn’t have to get her anything.”

“No, son. Trust me – this benefits you as well.”

“We have made a rather generous donation to the Saint Edgard School for Young Ladies. In your name, of course. Which consequently guarantees her a spot in their challenging day-care program and pre-school. Once inside she can look forward to a life filled with the nation’s finest academic curriculum.” Jungkook looks at Soori when he hears the world curriculum. His mother simply smiles, taking a sip from her wine.

“The nation’s? The world’s! Ggukie, it’s the education you received and I have to say, son…,” his father hesitates for a while, eyes fixated on the wall. “You have proven to be nothing but a gifted entrepreneur. It’s in your blood, of course. But it’s in the education that was provided to you from a young age, too.”

“It’s what landed you a safe spot in the Ivy Leagues, darling. We want the same for Soori. She has so much potential.” His mother adds.

Jungkook looks down at his daughter. She smiles at him, shining that bright smile his way – her tongue peeking from between her four tiny teeth. It’s a new habit she’s picked up and by far his favourite. He doesn’t doubt it, her potential. When he pictures her growing up, he sees her shining that light wherever she goes. He tries not to think about it much – far too melancholic of a thought for his own good, yet inevitable. All parents see the best in their kids, he knows. But he sees her in bright lights, full of passion and a world of talents.

That’s as far as it goes, though. He’s never gotten specific about them – ultimately believing that they were going to bloom on their own, not coaxed by him or the nation’s finest academic curriculum. Scratch that. The world’s.

It takes him by surprise, really. The approach a little too gentle for what his beliefs are. Or at least what he thought his beliefs were. He winces when he contemplates the possibility of Soori not wanting to pursue higher education – a bit dumbfounded at how not terrified he feels by the thought alone.

He realizes his thoughts are stretching into the future in astronomical lengths. Before this moment, he’d never even considered day-care. Didn’t even know it could be challenging.

He also realizes that when he pictured her in pre-school, he didn’t imagine her in plaid uniforms and grey walls. The image resembled something quite similar to what he’s seen when he’s picked up Dae from the library on Saturdays. A colorful space, screaming children, crayons scattered all over the floors. Someone loving and patient guiding her and teaching her – telling her stories.

“Thank you,” he says, deciding it’s better to not voice his thoughts. “I mean, she hasn’t even turned one. I don’t know how I feel about day-care just yet and ___-”

“Ah! That young lady is fascinating. But soft. This is Jeon blood right here son – pure and supple. She needs firm hands guiding her path.” His father speaks, raising from his seat on the couch and walking over to Soori, patting her head.

“It’s never too early to think about the future, darling. I would love to see a woman taking on the reins of our legacy.”

“The West End was always meant for great success, son. So were you. And so is she.” His father nods once, short and curt, before he proceeds to walk over to their dining space.

Jungkook’s mother walks over to him, handing him her glass before taking Soori from his arms. She falls into them seamlessly but not without looking back at her dad, that toothy grin adorning her chubby baby face.

It tugs at his heart – for reasons far beyond melancholy.

Too tiny of a person for too big of a future.

Too big of a soul, too.

~

“Baby, baby, baby! You’re doing it all wrong.” Lucy’s mock scolding is hidden by the giggles that fall past her lips as she attempts to teach Jimin how to perfectly plate pasta – scooped and swirled into a hypnotizing spiral he seems to butcher every time.

“Baby.” He feigns exasperation but his laughter fills the room, too.

“Hey! I was more than fine with eating it out of a bowl. You were the one that demanded I teach you my ways.” She defends.

Jimin looks at her, all attention lost from the plating and full focused on his girlfriend. “I always want to know your ways,” his voice is sultry and low.

You stare at them from your place, seated on top of the kitchen counter with a glass of wine in one hand, a piece of bread in the other. You sigh, rolling your eyes playfully as you process sexual remark of the night number twelve.

“Do you ever rest?”

“Yeah. That’s how we re-charge.” Jimin answers your question with a wag of the brows.

“Jimin- ew.”

“Hey, don’t be mean to baby.” Lucy says, wrapping her arms around his middle as she goes back to supervising his scooping and swirling.

“Could never. You guys are cute.” You tell them.

Jimin looks up at you, a sweet smile adorning his lips that’s laced with pride and endearment. He treats Lucy as if he couldn’t believe she’s his and the sight alone restores your faith in humanity and all that is holy. Their love is pure – sincere and straightforward.

Their love is theirs but it makes you yearn. And long and crave.

Like watching a movie or reading your favourite book at late hours of the night – a world filled with comfort characters and an alternate universe where adversity is simply a road taken to fall into the arms of a lover.

You saw him today but you didn’t feel him. You couldn’t touch him, kiss him, speak to him in a softer, gentler voice. You couldn’t tell him how much you loved his new short hair – you couldn’t reach out and snake your fingers through it, caress his forehead, bask in the way his head leans into your touch. You missed him as he stood in front of you and you couldn’t even tell him.

His essence is normally enough but today you want nothing more than to have his body tangled in yours – than to share a world that consists of four walls and a bed, graced with love and soft whispers that fall from his lips at the beat of his touch.

Yearning for Jungkook makes you poetic but the feeling stems from something as elemental as wanting to wrap your arms around him as he scoops and swirls.

You can’t escape it, the longing. The way one person makes you crave for ten thousand feelings, all powered by a simple action that could conduct the most complex of reactions inside of you at the thought alone.

“What should we watch, lovers?”

You’re not Lucy’s only lover anymore. It makes you smile.

“Are you guys going to make me watch softcore 1960s porn again?”

“Hey. La Piscine is a cinematic masterpiece, Jiminie. You should’ve left it at thank you.” You retort.

“Thank you, ___,” he starts, making you smile proudly before he says, “for introducing me to the world of cinematic softcore porn from the 1960s.”

“Lucy!” You whine, but it’s harmless, making the three of you break out in laughter.

“Baby, why are you complaining? You enjoyed that.”

“When did I complain?” He asks, shooting a crooked smirk her way.

“Whatever. I get to pick the movie because all you guys do is kiss like- three minutes in.” You say.

“Fair enough. We trust you. Make it sexy so it sets the mood.” Jimin tells you.

“My pleasure, you weirdos.”

Laughter fills the room again, followed by loud cheers from the three of you as Jimin successfully perfects his scoop, swirl, plate!

~

The city lights illuminate the road, adding to the overall atmosphere Jungkook has settled upon the vehicle as Nirvana plays softly in the background. It wasn’t intentional but he lets it linger, finding comfort in how oddly out of reality it all feels – like he’s stuck in a dream, living a life that isn’t his.

Soori is staying the night at his parent’s house and as much as he prolonged his stay and extended his goodbyes, it was time to go. He will admit he sat in their driveway for a total of fifteen minutes, no aimed purpose in mind, just simply wanting to be there – just in case. She’s in good hands, he knows that. But they’re not his arms.

Or yours.

After a while he decided it was best to get on his way – go do something other than be a dad. But he also realized he was way too tired to be anything other than just that. In the end, it’s heavy duty and you don’t quite realize how much energy it takes from you until you’re sat in a red light all by yourself, no one depending on you or demanding your attention.

And perhaps this would all be enjoyable if his head wasn’t swimming in intrusive thoughts of a future, one he’s not even sure belongs to him just yet. He knows he’s responsible for providing for her, making sure she gets a good education and all the tools she needs to excel and develop but how much say does he have in the long run.

Jungkook knows that what anguishes him isn’t really her education – more so, who she will become. The values she will take on when she begins to think for herself, the decisions she’ll make – what will power them. Will it be kindness or greed? Passion or societal norms? Who will inspire her? Move her, shape her into being someone good enough to be thrown into the world and fend for herself. He knows parents have only so much say at a certain point – he is living and breathing proof of just that.

Will she see the world beyond her privilege? Have friends that expose her to every kind of circumstance there is? Who will Soori be when she’s not his baby anymore, but when she’s just Soori. Her own person.

The light turns green and he revs the engine, driving his car into a parking spot in the middle of the empty street. Once the car has come to a halt, he lets himself melt into the seat, head falling over his shoulders as he closes his eyes and lets out a deep sigh.

He knows that ultimately; he plays a big role into who she will grow up to be.

Jungkook is not one to shy away from advice when it comes to parenting. After all, being a single parent is not as easy as one would think it is. All responsibility lands on him and that is great pressure that he oftentimes feels. He knows she’s still little, that there’s not that much actual parenting he can do but she won’t be little forever. She’ll need guidance and discipline – comfort and understanding. Decisions on decisions to be made, all which fall on him. On him and him only. It’s hard. And in times like these, when he’s hit with so much future all at once, it’s borderline terrifying.

She scares him sometimes – all that she could be. He thinks of her now, all plump proportions and sloppy kisses and it makes him laugh, how someone so little and naïve can produce such fear in him.

He wants her wonderous forever. Light-hearted and weightless. Mighty the way she is before she’s about to do something that lands him in what could very well be the early stages of a heart attack.

For some reason he’s not willing to dive into, this thought takes a turn and lands on you. It’s your face first. Then it’s your voice. Then it has less to do with you and more to do with how much he misses you.

He has half a mind, for anything but you.

He pulls his phone from his pocket – hand gripping onto the steering wheel as he presses onto your contact number and brings his phone to his ear. It rings for a while, his thoughts spiralling in that short time alone. What if you’re out with your friends? Having fun? Maybe you’re in a loud place and that’s why you can’t hear his call. Maybe you’ve seen it but you won’t pick up. What was he doing on a Friday night when he was twenty-three? The memories alone make him wince and cringe slightly. He’s about to give up when,

“Hello?”

Your voice is a whisper and he frowns, slightly confused. Nonetheless, it’s comforting.

“Hey – did I catch you in the middle of something?”

“No, no. Not at all. Just cleaning up. It was pasta night. Jimin’s here, by the way.”

He smiles, feeling foolish over thinking you’d be doing anything but. “Sounds nice.”

“Yeah, it was. We’re gonna watch a movie now…,” your voice lilts at the end, sentence bordering on a question.

“What movie?” He only asks because he wants to hear your voice for a little longer before he has to let you go.

“Purple Noon. Hey, where are you?”

“Um,” he looks around, taking in his surroundings. “56th and 9th.”

“Oh. Why?”

He knows you’re asking more for Soori than for him and the realization tugs at his heartstrings. “Was just at my parent’s. Left Soo there.”

“Oh- you’re all alone?” Your voice grows softer all of a sudden and Jungkook let’s himself bask in it.

“Mhm,” he says.

“Well- um… you could- come over? We’re just going to watch a movie and crash, maybe have some wine. Just the three of us, nothing fancy-”

“That’d be nice.”

“Really?” Your question makes him laugh.

“Really, really. If they don’t mind, of course.”

“Duh. It’s your literal best friend taking up sofa space and eating all my snacks. Come, Koo. Don’t spend a Friday night all alone.”

You don’t know this but he needed to hear those words. Hell, he probably didn’t know it either but the comfort you provide is immediate – settling into his heart, making him feel safe in places he didn’t know felt unsound.

“Okay,” he says, voice airy and you can already feel him less tense.

“Koo?”

“Yeah?”

“Should I- should I heat you some pasta?”

“No, baby. I just ate. But thank you.”

“Always.”

Comfort.

~

You’re fidgeting and you know your face gives it away. Lucy looks at you, piercing eyes over her glass of wine, raising a brow in your direction. You shake your head slightly and divert your gaze from hers.

Jimin is trying to find Purple Noon on the web – illegally, of course.

“This is going to put like- at least three viruses into your computer, baby.”

“No, it won’t,” Lucy defends. “Keep looking.”

“I can just log into my Amazon-” Jimin starts but halts his words quickly when he sees the way Lucy scowls at him. “No Amazon on your watch, got it.”

“I’m making Jimin an anti-capitalist.” She tells you.

“I’m not a capitalist!”

“You went to boarding school – it’s internalized, baby. It’s not your fault.” She strokes his cheek gently and even though he wants to defend himself again you can see the way her soft hands distract him. He gives into her and she gives into him. They’re perfect for one another, you think.

“How was that,” you ask, curiously. Aside from what you’ve seen in movies, you don’t know much about it and it sounds enticing for some reason.

“Eh can be fun, can be hell. It made me extremely homesick, though. Thankfully I had Gguk. But he was homesick, too so it was like the blind leading the blind.” He says. “Found it!”

“Yay,” Lucy claps her hands and gives him a kiss on the cheek.

Just in time, the doorbell rings.

“Did someone order something?” Lucy says, slightly confused.

Me, you think but don’t quite voice your thoughts. You simply get up from the couch, walking the couple of steps until you’re unlocking your front door and swinging it open. It’s unconscious, but a sigh of relief passes your lips and he smiles when he makes out the sound. It turns into a grin when yours widens.

You hug him – hesitant at first since you can feel Jimin’s and Lucy’s piercing stares from behind you but it’s hard to focus on anything but him for two seconds too long. He feels warm in your arms. Safe.

“Come in,” you say, taking a step backwards so he can enter your home.

“Hey,” he greets his best friend and yours, giving a little wave.

“Heeeey, nice to see you, Ggukie,” Jimin, ever so lovingly, can’t help it but wrap Jungkook in his embrace, ruffling his hair a bit in the process.

He pushes him away playfully but gives up easily, chuckling and returning the action. “You too. Now get off.”

“Where’s Soo Soo?”

“Over at my parent’s,” he responds.

“Ah, oof. Hope she doesn’t leave there with table manners and new philosophical beliefs.” Jimin jokes but it only sends Jungkook spiralling – mind too vulnerable from his previous mental back and forth.

He shoots his friend a half-hearted smile and nods, a quiet huff leaving his mouth. “Hey, Lucy.” He says.

Lucy’s an easy-hearted person – takes her a lot to even reach the point of distrust or suspicion. But you are, to no one’s surprise, let alone Jungkook’s, her weak spot. You’re family to her and her instincts scream protect. When she’d first seen Jungkook standing in her doorway a week ago, an uneasiness settled upon her – mostly powered by uncertainty. Not knowing, not being able to be part of this secret that you two keep. The same feeling had sparked her just now when you’d open the door and he’d appeared – seemingly out of nowhere, even though she knows you knew he was coming.

All of her instincts tumble down the minute she sees Jungkook’s strained smile. Perceptive as ever, she sees something in him that perhaps not even his best friend does. The way his gaze is fallen, movements faltering before they reach the expressions he seems to mimic as opposed to sincerely mirror from a feeling. He seems lost.

“Hi Ggukie!” She greets back.

The pet name throws him by surprise – and even though it takes him a while to process it, he smiles at her. A genuine, kind smile that Lucy doesn’t miss, making her feel more at ease. Like she can let her guard down.

Call it emotional intelligence or gut feeling, but there’s a lot that Lucy comes to understand about Jungkook in the first five minutes he spends in her home.

“Movie’s all ready – shall we? Gguk, wine?” Jimin says as he heads to the kitchen to top up his own glass.

“No, thanks. Driving,” he reminds him.

“Ever-the-father.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes but it’s matched up with a big smile. You can sense it, the way his guard comes down – the way he softens and goes back to that very root of being that you’ve learned characterizes him so well. The one that made you realize how much of a weightless soul he is. Yet, you can’t help but see the disdain in his eyes. You haven’t had much one-on-one time with him as aforementioned and as hectic as you know work has been, you’re also aware something else plagues his thoughts.

In the middle of your worry something shines through, though. A realization that has your heart skipping a beat.

He didn’t run.

Whatever weighs heavy in his heart he seems to be gatekeeping it but he came to you.

You don’t know how aware he is of his own actions but you also can’t help but acknowledge them. You might be in the dark about a lot of things still but it’s an easier road to take if you walk it with him. Side by side in your little couch that’s too small to fit four people. Lucy and Jimin might as well count as one considering how tangled in each other they are – all this to your advantage.

You sit down next to Jungkook, taking the middle of the couch – careful not to tip over your glass of wine. He looks over at you, a small smile adorning his lips. His gaze travels down to your hand and raises a brow when he sees the chocolate covered pastry you’re holding. An éclair, a family favourite in this house, courtesy of Lucy. You bring your hand up, offering him the sweet treat. You gasp a little when all he does is bring his face forward some and proceeds to take a big bite out of it, leaving you with a little less than half.

“This is what I get for being kind.”

He laughs at your remark, further melting into the couch and opening his arm to welcome you in it. You hesitate for a second but it doesn’t take a lot of mental back and forth for you to comply. He feels warm to the touch – another thing that characterizes him. The room is dark, a soft, chilly breeze creeping in from the open window that has the thin blinds dancing in the air, casting random shadows upon everything the light touches. You take advantage of this, shivering slightly before your body grows closer to his. His grip around you tightens and he squeezes a little. It’s reassuring – having him in your close proximity, basking in the intimacy of touch. Your most vulnerable side tells you his presence was a prayer answered. A reminder that when a feeling is this pure, it’s only a matter of asking and you shall receive.

The plot of the movie unfolds, your TV screen filled with dreamy sights of the Italian coast and sultry scenes between the attractive leads. You’re drunk on visuals, white wine and the way your every sense is powered by Jungkook. He smells fresh and clean. Feels warm and soft as your body melts into his, yet firm as your hand rests on his toned stomach. You can feel the steady rise and fall of his breathing and when you let the moment consume you, you can hear it, too. You want to kiss him but you’ll count your blessings – reminding yourself this closeness is enough for now. Going off on muscle memory of what it’s like to feel his lips on yours.

Jungkook’s attempts to keep his attention on the storyline is futile. His mind fails him. His heart, too. There’s something so simple yet heart wrenching about spending a Friday night in your cozy apartment on a summer night – an old French film that requires his eyes shift from the moving images to the subtitles playing on your small TV. You sigh every once in a while, and he’s come to draw a pattern of the way your body unconsciously reacts to anything mildly romantic on the film. You’d probably have a million words to describe how he feels about you right now yet he can’t seem to find one.

Jimin and Lucy don’t hold back on their loving, shamelessly lost in each other – movie long forgotten. He can’t see much, the two of them safely tucked inside a big blanket in a makeshift cocoon. But he can hear it.

It’s ridiculous – the scene that unfolds around him. One he would’ve scoffed at if someone would’ve made the offer a couple of months back. Here, I’ll give you a Friday night full of slow burn romance in foreign films with a side of raging hormones. But right now, a feeling brews inside of him at a rapid pace. He smiles when he finds the word for it. He smiles because it’s one you taught him. Elation.

You’re snuggled against him and he looks at you, shiny eyes glued to the screen. He kisses your forehead – a chaste kiss that takes you by surprise, making you jump a little. However, he doesn’t pull back; lips pressed to the soft skin as his fingers play with your hair.

Your moment of bliss is broken by the lewd sounds of what you hope is only tongues coming together. You gasp and Jungkook laughs against your forehead, chest shaking a little from the giggles that escape him.

“Why does it sound wet in there?” You ask without an ounce of remorse.

Lucy throws a pillow your way, which Jungkook swiftly catches with his free hand.

“Damn, this movie’s long.” Jimin says, detaching his body from Lucy’s and leaning back on the couch. His hair is a mess and even in the dark room you can make out his swollen lips. Lucy doesn’t miss a beat, wrapping her arms around him and humming in agreement.

“You two may be excused. I’m well aware no one is paying attention to the bit of culture I’m attempting to bestow upon you guys.” Your tone is playfully dramatic.

“I’m paying attention,” Jungkook lies.

“And that’s on you.” Jimin says.

Lucy giggles and all you can make out is a soft whisper as she nuzzles her face into Jimin’s neck.

“Sheesh, these two.” Jungkook whispers, audibly enough for you to hear.

“Tell me about it. The quieter they are now, the louder they’ll get later.”

He laughs. “Hey, wanna come over to mine? I can drop you off at the library tomorrow after I pick Soori up from my parent’s.”

You look up at him, big hopeful eyes that make his insides run like honey. “You sure?”

“Very.” He looks over at your friends who’ve resumed their prior activities. “Don’t wanna leave you yet. But don’t wanna witness Jimin out in the wild.”

“Strong point, Sir. Let me just get a change of clothes for tomorrow. And PJs.”

He pulls you back into his arms as you begin to get up, your faces inches apart. He pouts, brows furrowing. “No PJs.”

You stare at him for a second, breaking out in soft giggles. “Fine. No PJs.”

~

Jungkook opens the passenger door for you and the simple act makes you feel all tingly and warm on the inside.

“Thank you,” you tell him, closing the space between the two of you and pressing your lips to his cheek softly.

“Always,” he mimics your words from before and you only smile – afraid you’ll let out an endless stream of words and secret confessions that bottle up inside of you.

You see as he rounds the car from the windshield and when he catches you staring, he shoots you a smile. You make a mental note to tame your feelings, afraid that if you let them, they’ll start pouring out of you at an unstoppable rate.

“Your car has too many buttons.”

Your sincere observation makes him let out a loud chuckle. “Mm, yeah. I’ll give you that one.”

“Jungkook,” you say, about to fail the first attempt.

“Yeah?”

“I missed you.”

He looks at you, hand coming up to caress your cheek. For a couple of seconds, he just lets himself stare at you. You realize the way him not immediately returning the feeling doesn’t make you feel uneasy. In fact, his silence only allows for you to get lost in his gaze – his eyes telling you more than his words could, even if he tried. You smile.

“I missed you, too.” His words fall from his mouth, straight to your lips as he kisses you for the first time in what feels like an eternity. You both let out a long sigh, smiling against clinked teeth when you sync.

When he pulls away, he points a finger up, eyes following, as if remembering something. He reaches to the backseat of his car, retrieving a little box. He opens it, fingers reaching inside until he’s handing you an envelope.

“Miss Soori Blue kindly requested I pass along this invitation,” he says.

You smile, opening the white envelope and pulling out the card that rests inside. it’s white, too – the borders a pastel pink. His address, the date and the words I’m looking forward to celebrating with you! Adorning the top half. At the bottom of the page sits a pretty picture, made of what seems to be watercolours. Different animals painted on it – a lion, a giraffe, a koala, an elephant and a zebra, with comical smiling faces and birthday hats.

“Koo,” you say, nearly cooing at him. “This is so cute, oh my God.”

“She has good taste,” he says, rather sheepishly.

“Is it- animal themed?”

“Safari.”

“Did you paint this?” You ask, fingers running over the animals.

“Kinda. I did it on my iPad. Hope she doesn’t resent me for it when she’s older.”

“Are you kidding? You’re like- the coolest dad. And, I’d love to be there.”

“We want you there. No office hours. Just you.”

You look at him, pondering on what he’s trying to say. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“But- your friends are going to be there. Your parents-”

Jungkook is aware of everything you’re saying. Perhaps these are all things he would consider more than once before asking you to be there. For Soori. For him. For the first celebration of her life he’s going to walk into as a single parent. For when he wants to double the love she gets, just so she doesn’t lack. He wants you there and life feels too heavy to deprive himself of you.

“It’s okay. I don’t owe anyone an explanation. Plus, you’re- a very important person in Soori’s life. I want you there.”

“Okay,” you say, looking at the invitation again. “How cool!”

He smiles, starting the engine. “I hope it all goes smoothly. I probably should’ve hired someone to help organize it but I think I’ve got it under control.”

There’s something about Jeon Jungkook, the CEO, organizing a Safari themed, all pink, birthday party that just plays with your heart.

“It’s going to be epic. I can sense it. I have an excellent radar for fun times. This one won’t miss, trust me.” He laughs, reaching for you hand and intwining his fingers in yours. “God, I can’t believe she’s turning one already. Time is flying by.”

He’s been hearing that a lot. From his friends, his parents, family – even Mrs. Chae. But tonight, hearing it gives him a wave of something other than the nostalgia he usually feels whenever he’s reminded his baby is growing up. Tonight, time flies feels rather literal.

“What did you want to be when you grew up?”

You don’t hesitate for a second. “A mom.” He looks over at you for a second before diverting his eyes back on the road. “Four-year-old me didn’t know girls could do things other than being moms or teachers. So, I wanted to be a mom. I would convince my parents to get me dolls with the, very honest mind you, excuse that I was practicing for when I grew up and became a mom.”

He swiftly stops the car at a red light, looking at you with big, curious eyes – already enthralled in your story.

“Then I grew up a little more and was hit with the infamous, you can be whatever you want! And in-between maybe five and ten I truly went through all the phases. I wanted to be a nurse. A veterinarian. There was this one summer where all I wanted to do was grow up so I could be a lifeguard. I heard my parents talk about my college fund once and I asked them if I could use the money to go to lifeguard school.” Jungkook laughs, head thrown back and nose scrunched, your recollection of the events so vivid he can almost picture it.

“Then I wanted to be a firefighter. At this point my parents were getting used to my hyper fixation with whatever new line of work I discovered next. The very last one I had before deciding I wanted to be a writer was probably the most shocking. I was walking through the park with my mom one day and saw this group of men in neon suits picking up litter from the street. I thought it was so noble of them – having just learned about pollution in school and the importance of recycling. I ask my mom what ‘those’ were called. She saw the police patrol supervising the inmates doing community work and simply asked me why I wanted to know. I told her that I wanted to do just that when I grew up. She nearly had a heart attack.”

Jungkook’s chuckles fill the closed space of the car and yours follow not too long after you’ve finished your story. His whole demeanour seems to change in a matter of seconds – expression softer and gaze gentler.

“I’m glad you pursued literature,” he tells you.

“Me too,” you say, smiling. “I was quite young. My parents thought it was another phase but I stuck to it. Now I’ve grown up and I don’t really know what I am? But… I think ten-year-old me would be proud.”

Your words settle into him – the realization hitting him at once. The beginning of an answer to the question that has been swarming his thoughts all night. Your words are comfort, once again. But more than comfort, they’re hope. They let him know it’ll be okay. You make trusting time feel easier. He looks at you, hears the stories of what makes you – of what formed you, and he feels at ease.

He then realizes that he doesn’t know what Soori will be. But that it doesn’t quite matter as long as she’s happy. As long as she’s able to look back at the road that made her and say she’s proud of herself. Of where she’s been.

Just like you.

“What did you want to be when you grew up?” You ask, fingers lacing around his neck and caressing softly. He leans into your touch, eyes fighting to stay open at the blissful feeling.

“The blue Power Ranger.”

~

The night took a turn you weren’t necessarily expecting, yet you welcome it. Both your body and mind had been craving him in equal parts – not having felt his skin on yours since last Sunday. It’d been a rollercoaster of emotions of a day that the two of you wrapped up by seeking that physical closeness you’ve become addicted to. It did just that. Closeness. A moment so overwhelming as the two of you asked for more. Begged for more, as if you’d have the power to deny him. As if your body wouldn’t muster the strength needed to take him one more time, only to feel the euphoria of whatever his body flushed to yours did to your heart.

It was intense and afterwards it’d found you both quiet – two heaving bodies deciphering a world of feelings that took over the confined space of your room. Suddenly your bed felt too small, the walls too narrow, everything suffocating yet the feeling didn’t stop you from letting his arms wrap around yours, pull you closer – his breathing lull you into a deep, peaceful sleep. And when you dreamt, you dreamt of him. And even in faraway realities you could feel his touch on yours; the warmth.

In that reality you didn’t hold back the truth.

Amidst a forest of tall, green trees and white butterflies you spoke softly into his ear.

I love you. Once, simple. The truth untold.

He’d placed a kiss on your lips as he said his goodbyes – shushing you softly so you didn’t fully rouse from your peaceful slumber. You smiled, lips forming a pout as you lazily returned the kiss. It made Jungkook linger for a moment, eyes closed, lips locked in yours until he felt you fall back, resuming your sleep.

The week that followed came as fast as it ended, but only in retrospective. Only from the eyes that hold his right now, finally back in his atmosphere.

“What are you thinking about?” He nudges your calf with his foot – the two of you laying down at opposites ends of the sofa, glasses of wine in both your hands and the remainder of Purple Moon playing on the TV of his living room.

“I want you,” you speak your mind.

“Hm?” His foot travels upwards, running from your calves until they’re reaching your lower thigh before it's pushing it open slightly.

“Mhm,” you answer, shivers running down your spine as you give into his touch, your leg left leaning to the side. His head follows its movements, eyes shortly traveling to your center – the soft lace of your white panties catching his eyes. Your dress is short and it hikes up your thighs as you adjust your position.

“What do you want, baby? Tell me.”

You ponder on it for a minute, suddenly shy. “I dunno. What do you want to do to me?”

“Don’t be shy now, angel.”

“I want you to make me feel good. Without holding back.”

“Yeah? Would you let me, baby?”

You nod your head slowly, eyes fixed on his that darken by the second. “Y-Yeah.”

“Come here,” he says, propping his glass on the coffee table before he’s settling back into the couch comfortably, legs stretching onto the long of the L-Shaped sofa.

You follow his movements, setting you glass down before you walk towards him, hovering for a second as to receive his next queue.

His arm reaches for your hand and you take it, letting him pull you into the sofa until you’re sitting down. You let him guide your body, arms softly turning you and pulling you to him until you’re sitting between his legs, back leaning against his front.

“Open up for me, baby.” He says as one of his hands traces a road downwards, until the tip of his fingers run down your inner thigh, tentatively close to where you need him the most. His other hand travels up, wrapping gently around your throat, fingers gripping onto your jaw, turning your face to his until his lips find yours.

You whimper into the kiss, a shiver running down your legs, goosebumps forming at his every touch. You give into him – parting your mouth until your tongues are licking at one another’s. He draws your bottom lip in-between his teeth, biting with a bit more force than usual. Your legs close around his hand and he squeezes at the soft flesh of your thigh, revelling in how responsive you are to his touch. Pliant and a little impatient as your hips begin to circle on their own, unconsciously drawing him closer, craving his touch.

When his hand travels up your legs fall open once again, melting into his body as the anticipation settles into you, the excitement growing, a build-up of days making you needy for that high, that explosion of feelings you know he can coax out of you in a matter of minutes. And when the touch comes, you sigh into his mouth, cunt pulsing at the feeling of his middle finger pressing on your clit over your panties. The buckle of your hips lets him know he’s got you right where he wants you and its signal enough for him to start drawing tiny circles against your little nub – his touch is light, barely there as the tip of his finger toys with the sensitive bundle of nerves. But as placid as his touch is, it builds up quickly and to your surprise, you can already feel the pressure building up at your lower belly; knees starting to shake and breathing picking up a puffy, erratic pace.

“You wanna feel good baby?” His voice is deep, a soft growl right in your ear that you feel right in your gut.

“Yes, p-please,” your voice is airy, almost delirious as his light touch begins to tip you over the edge.

“Then you have to be good. Can you do that?” Your mind is hazy, body following the feeling too and when you don’t reply his teeth nip at your earlobe, hips rutting against his finger.

“Y-Yes, I c-can,” you give.

“Are you close, baby?”

“Yes- fuck. I’m so close, Koo- please don’t stop.”

He lets you fall into the feeling, ever so close to reaching the ultimate pleasure he knows he’s able to grant you with just one determined touch. Your body so receptive, so fucking good for him as he’s come to know it so well – to read you so well, even in just a couple of weeks. Those instances are enough to let him know you’re dangerously close to fully breaking for him, letting go and falling completely. It’s right then that he stops, hand cupping your mound as you let out a loud cry. He can feel the unevenness in your breathing right against his chest.

“N-No- why, please-” your voice borders on a plead and it sends a jolt of electricity down Jungkook’s body.

“You’ll cum when I say so.”

His breath fans over your neck, hand pushing away stray hairs that have fallen onto your forehead, already sweaty as you begin to come down from the pleasure. You’ve never played this game. Never put your pleasure in someone else’s hands so willingly, entirely. It makes you feel slightly on edge – and quite literally. The nerves pooling in your tummy; the anticipation bittersweet.

“O-Okay.”

“Have you ever done this?”

“No. I just- never understood it. Always too i-impatient.”

A low chuckle resonates down his chest and you can feel it in yours. “That’s okay, baby. You’ll be good for me and I’ll let you feel good. You’ll understand it.”

“I want to be good for you, Jungkook.”

“Yeah? My good girl?” His words get lost inside your mind as his fingers hook inside the hem of your panties, pushing them to the side. You close your eyes, both relieved and anxious to feel his touch again.

“Yes, fuck- I’m your good girl.”

At your words he gives in, fingers coating in your slick before they’re traveling upwards again, resuming the torturous pace on your clit. Your mouth parts in pleasure – the feeling ecstatic, moans lilting at the end until you’re whining at the feeling.

“You’re so wet, baby.” He teases your entrance, middle and ring finger pressing into your opening until you’re begin, a loose string of pleases falling past your lips. “What do you want? Use your words.”

“Your fingers- I want you to fuck me with your fingers,” your sentence morphs into a moan, a cry of pleasure as his two fingers thrust inside of you, immediately hooking up until they’re pressing onto your g-spot for a second too short, not letting you bask in it fully as he begins the push and pull – pressing every time they’re nestled in.

You grab a hold of his wrist, opening your legs further as you force him to still his movements – wanting to feel his fingers pressed into that spot for a little longer.

His laughter borders on mean and it only makes you pulse around his fingers. The hand that holds onto your throat travels up, fingers harshly gripping your jaw, making you look at him.

“You’re greedy, huh?” His question is rhetoric and perhaps you only nod your head to piss him off further. “My greedy little slut?” You nod again and his grip tightens, fingers hooking up inside of you – the pressure so intense it has your eyes rolling to the back of your neck. “Baby wants to learn the hard way.”

His last statement sets something off inside of you and before you can let out a faint response his fingers pick up force and pace inside of you – short little thrusts as he focuses on that spot, thumb adding to the pleasure as he circles your clit with it. Your wanton moans are laced with pleads, begin him to go faster, harder – more. He can feel your walls contract around his fingers, pussy getting tighter, voice raspier, chants of his name sounding borderline delirious as you begin to get lost in the feeling again.

“I’m gonna cum- fuck I’m gonna-”

But your words fall stranded into the air – body closing around yourself as he pulls his fingers away from your cunt, placing his hand on your lower belly as your body jerks in what feels like it’s walking a thin line between pain and pleasure. You cry out a string of no’s and he shushes you softly.

“Close your legs, baby.”

You do and like magic, you begin to come down from it yet once again.

Your body falls into his arms, falling slightly to the side as you try to stop your legs from shaking, a half-hearted attempt to ease your breathing back to normal. It’s impossible to settle down all the way but when you begin to regain consciousness you look up at him again, opening your eyes and meeting his dark ones.

“Please,” you beg.

“Shh. Lay down, baby.”

You do, with little body strength, you let yourself fall into the soft cushions of the couch. Jungkook hovers over you, sitting on his feet as he begins to unbutton his shirt. Your arms reach out, wanting to touch him but you feel too weak. He holds onto your hand instead, bringing it to his lips and placing a soft kiss on your open palm.

“You gonna be good for me, pretty girl?”

“Y-Yes- please just- fuck me, Koo.”

“Mm, not yet. I want to taste you first.”

He begins to lower his body, making himself comfortable between your thighs as he hooks his fingers on the hem of your panties. He pulls them off your legs, pushing your thighs open with his big hands. The sight of him between your legs alone has your mind falling back into that pleasure – your body quickly following.

“I’ll cum- I can’t,” you cry.

“Yes, you can. You’re so good for me, baby. So pretty like this.”

He places a kiss against your slit that has you unconsciously bucking your hips into his face. His arm circles around your thigh until his hand is resting at your pelvis. He pushes down, making you press your ass against the sofa once again. He narrows his eyes at you, a stern and deep stay leaving his lips.

His head lowers, tongue parting your folds with a thick lick of his tongue that starts at your entrance, all the way to your clit. He minimizes the stimulation where he knows it’ll set you off just yet, instead using his tongue to tease around them – soft little kitten licks before he suctions slightly, your juices coating his chin in an almost pornographic way but he loves it. He loves every tell-tale sign of your desire – could hear your soft little moans grow louder with every circle of his tongue around your entrance, could feel every tug at his hair with every gentle flick of the tip of his tongue against your clit. He could bask on the warmth of your pussy – how wet and tight you feel around his fingers, his tongue, his cock. He throbs at the mere thought of knowing you’ll have him inside of you in a matter of minutes.

“Oh my fucking God- don’t stop, baby- please don’t stop.”

Your cries are so sweet, the skin of your thigh so soft around his hand that keeps it open. Your pussy so wet, filling the room with lewd sounds as he unabashedly eats you out. Devours you until all he can feel, taste, smell is you. How much you want him – need him. How much you unravel just for him.

He almost considers to give you just what you need the most. Too tempted by having you shaking and squirming under him – him too craving to feel you let go, fall into your release, hear every single moan he knows he can emit from you.

But he doesn’t.

He pulls away and looks up at you. His lips are shiny with your juices, tongue running over them to gather every last drop, licking them clean.

The come down is less abrupt this time – your body growing accustomed to being so close to tipping over, rapidly adjusting to the come down, though not sending you into any less of an agony. This time, though, it makes you hungrier.

You look up at him. That look on his face that doesn’t hold an ounce of fear when it comes to ruining you whole. Not an ounce of remorse over doing things to you that he knows won’t allow you to go back to whatever point it is you were since in before you came into his atmosphere – basked in the pleasure, revelled in the desire that has a first and last name.

Him.

When you speak, your voice is but a whisper.

“Please- fuck me. Do whatever you want with me.”

It takes him a second to process your words but when they finally dawn upon him his movements are determined – quick. His hands come to rest at the buckle of his belt, swiftly undoing it. He motions to your dress – “Off, baby.” You comply, with shaky hands, mustering every bit of strength you have left. Throwing his pants to the side, your dress follows the pile that forms at the floor. In perfect sync, your bra and his boxer briefs come off, too.

His cock throbs in his hand as he releases some pressure with a couple of languid pumps. He follows your movements with his eyes as you reach for your bag that sits on top of the coffee table and pull out a condom. He smiles.

“Was this your plan all along?”

“You said no PJs.” You bite back, bringing the foil package to your lips and tearing it open.

Jungkook walks closer to you, coming to stand between your legs, fingers lazily running down your slit, before he’s coating his cock with your juices. He thinks about what it’d feel like to feel you raw – take you like this, feel your tightness and warmth without a barrier. The thought alone has him rolling his head over his shoulders, a moan escaping his lips as he feels your small hand wrap around his cock – pumping a couple of times before rolling the condom on.

His hands grab a hold of your legs, pushing them onto the couch. His come to rest at either side of yours, pushing them closer until they’re completely closed. He grabs hold of your waist and flips you over in one swift movement. You gasp, the faint sound quickly turning into a whimper as you feel his lips dusting feathery kisses all over your back. He places one on each little dimple that forms at the curve of your ass and when he pulls away slightly, he lands a loud smack against the round flesh. You let out a loud moan.

“Is this okay, baby?”

“Y-Yes,” you reply.

He lands another one, this one with more force and you’re sure it’s bound to leave a handprint. The sting makes you close your fists around a pillow, whining in pleasure at the pain. You’ve never experienced anything like it before and giving into the feeling feels dangerous so it’s with a shaky voice that you say, “m-more.”

“Yeah?” Another slap, on the same cheek, the pain sending tingles down your body.

He wraps a hand around his cock, lowering his body until his front is flushed to your back. He lines himself against your entrance and when you nod, he pushes in, thrusting his hips into yours. You’re so wet you take him in one swift movement, hissing at the fullness when he bottoms out.

“Fuck- the tightest little pussy.”

“Your tight little pussy,” you say in-between laboured breaths.

“Yeah, baby. My tight little pussy- fuck. All mine.”

He pulls back, circling his hips as your cunt swallows his tip back in – short little pulses that send shivers down his spine as he can feel just how close you are. How much you’re holding back, how good you’re being for him. He pushes back in, the force of his thrust sending you further into the couch as a feral groan ricochets past his chest – throaty and deep. Everything about him – the way he feels, the way he sounds just adds to the pleasure. He fills you up so well, the angle just right making him hit repeatedly against that spot that has your toes curling and legs begin to grow shaky, right along with the cries you let out with every push and pull.

“That feels s-so good, Koo. I love your fat cock, please fuck me harder.”

He groans, body straightening, grabbing a tight hold of your hips before he’s landing another loud slap against your ass. He can feel your pussy clench around his cock at the contact, making him hiss in pleasure at the feeling.

“You like that, baby? You like it when I rough you up?”

“Y-Yes, f-fuck I love it, Jungkook. I fucking love it- harder, please.”

Your filthy mouth is all it takes for him to piston his hips into yours, the loud slapping of your ass against his thighs filling the room – mixed with your sweet moans and his deep growls as you begin to grow impossibly tighter around him. He squeezes your ass, hard grip on his hand before it comes up and slaps at it once again.

“Oh- oh fuck, Koo, fuck, fuck, fuck- I’m- can I cum, please- let me cum.”

“Cum for me, baby. Cream my cock, let me feel you. Let me hear you.”

You tense up for a second, body hesitant to let go after being teased to exertion. But his movements never falter, hitting repeatedly right where he feels the best and it takes you a second to get there. You let go and the feeling throws you aback so abruptly it blocks your vision for a bit, tiny silver dots all you see as your lips part in a silent moan as your whole body begins to shake. It’s like nothing you’ve ever felt before and when your voice finds you – it’s loud. Cries of pleasure and muffled chants of his name as your breathing grows erratic. You feel like you’re going to pass out, fisting at the pillows to ground yourself.

“Fuck, baby- yes.”

Your words are barely there but you manage to say, “please don’t stop fucking me, please don’t- I think I’m gonna-”

Jungkook doesn’t think he can last a second longer, his body growing weak as he falls on top of you, forearms holding him from crushing you as his thrusts grow sloppier. But he can feel the way your pussy pulses around his cock, signalling another orgasm.

“Fuck, you’re gonna make me cum. Again baby, cum for me again- cum with me, ___.”

And you do. You let go, hand reaching for him, pulling his face flushed to yours, fingers tangling in his hair – feeling so overwhelmed it has you tugging at the strands with force. He hisses against your cheek, the airy little sound turning into a moan as he releases into the condom, cock throbbing as he buries himself deep inside of you, wanting to feel every last pulse of your cunt in perfect sync with his own.

He stays there for a minute – collecting himself and his breathing, dusting open mouthed kisses on every inch of skin his lips can find as you begin to come down, too.

You don’t move when he pulls away, too fucked out and exhausted – body still shaking with the aftershocks of your orgasms. The intensity of waiting until you couldn’t take it anymore.

“Baby,” Jungkook coos, “let’s go shower.”

“Jungkook,” you call out his name, rolling over and onto your back.

“Tell me, angel.”

You simply outstretch your arms towards him. He smiles, cocking his head to the side before he’s picking you up – bridal style.

“That good, huh?” He asks, a smirk lacing his features.

“You always get so cocky after sex,” you say, nuzzling your face on the soft, warm skin of his chest.

“Well, I just made you cum twice so-”

“Shhh,” you tell him, a lazy, trembling finger pushing onto his lips.

He bites it slightly and you gasp, making him smile.

Your eyes stay closed as he walks the two of you up the stairs.

You look angelic – so soft.

You look like everything that he’s known to resemble love.

~

HI! i don’t even know what to say. they’re so soft, they’re so sexy. i really came for violence by making jungkook organize soori’s birthday party all by himself? AND HE DREW HER BIRTHDAY PARTY NVITATIONS TOO? lol i have no chill like that actually got me fucked up. ANYWAYS I TRULY HOPE U ENJOYED! if u did lemme know – you guys know i love speaking to u guys about my lil story and just chit chatting in general. i’m sending a million kisses ur way <3333 xx

~

★taglist★

He sees kindness, fate. He sees soul and life and wonders if yours has seen others in the past. He thinks maybe that’s why you like your books second-hand and your music a beat too old. Why you use big words despite your gentle gestures. Perhaps the reason why you speak your mind so confidently is because your soul has affirmed your essence in light years’ worth of living.

He likes you.

He likes you so much.

You’re still laying on his bed, in the exact same position he left you on. Your naked body glistens with sweat and the natural golden hue of your skin. You still hold that effortless beauty that sent Jungkook’s brain in a frenzy when he had your face contorting in pleasure – hair dishevelled and legs shaking under him. Only now it laces back with that tenderness you carry – the one he’s not only grown used to but also fond of. You shrink in yourself a little bit, almost shy.

He smiles at you and you blush, a rosy tint creeping up your cheeks. You shift your body to the other side but you don’t make it all the way – face scrunching as you wince in pain.

“You alright?” He says, crawling closer to you as his knees hit the mattress.

“Yeah, just a bit sore,” you reply, eyes wide and looking up as he hovers above you. His hair is sweaty, some sticking to his forehead – cheeks and chest still flushed from the physical exertion. Half angel, half boy. You swoon.

“Come on, I’ll make it better.”

“How?”

He laughs at the slight terror he can make out in your voice. “Not like that – come on, you’ll see.”

You let him pull you away from the comfort and warmth of his bed, shivers running down your spine from the feeling of the cold surface of the floor against your feet. You can feel the pressure between your legs, the slight burn from your recent activities – and combined with the overall haziness it left your mind and body in, it makes you feel like you just ran a marathon.

The floor in his bathroom is heated and the contrast feels nice on your still naked body. You see him make his way to the shower – another space that holds too much room for what it’s meant to do in the first place.

“Is everything you own big?” Your question is innocent but the moment he turns around to look at you, cheeky grin on his face, you realize it sounded anything but.

“I don’t know, you tell me.” He returns, holding your hand in his and walking backwards, entering the shower.

You follow him, a couple of steps before you’re being encased by the steam that builds up from the warm water and the soft strings that fall from the ceiling, mimicking rainfall. Once the both of you are inside, he turns on the massage jets that spray from all sides of the shower. The pressure is painful at first but once your body relaxes into the feeling the benefits begin to reap.

“Don’t get cocky now,” you reach for him, the both of you now standing directly under the water. You wrap your arms around his waist, pulling him closer.

You can feel him tense under your touch but it never falters. If anything, you get closer – dusting open mouthed kisses all over his chest before flushing your cheek against it, sighing in bliss. He gives in, wrapping one of his arms around your middle, the other beginning a steady journey from your head, all the way to the very last strand of hair that falls on your back before it repeats the motion.

Jungkook was never one to believe weakness meant failure.

You look up at him in between wet eyelashes, blinking a couple of times to clear your line of vision. His eyes are fixated on the dark marble walls, gaze lost.

“What are you thinking about?” Your voice is a whisper but he hears it, it resounds against his chest.

He used to believe vulnerability was yet another adjective of being human, until life made him weak and he couldn’t afford to be it. Until he had to build a shield to protect him from feeling because it wasn’t only his weakness in his hands – it was Soori’s, too.

“You.”

“Hm. Good or bad?”

His gaze finally turns back to you, heart seizing when he sees you smiling, even though your eyes tell him there is uncertainty swimming in them. You meant it when you asked – unsure, almost as if you could hear his thoughts, your body feeling the fear his was taking on like a static shock.

His hand cups your cheek and without any further hesitation, he kisses you. He lets it be sloppy, mind focused on you as opposed to his actions. He lets his head fall to the side, hand lazily running down your body, the tips of his fingers basking in your softness. When your tongues meet and your teeth clink, he dives in further, feet with a mind of their own as he walks you backwards until your back hits the marble walls. Both his hands hit the cold surface, resting at either side of you as he towers over you. His breath heaves, in perfect tune with your own erratic one, faint whimpers passing your mouth before his lips are back on yours, swallowing them.

“You. I’m thinking about you,” he sighs – dark eyes penetrating yours one last time before following the descend his body takes on as he falls to his knees.

“Jungkook,”

~

A combination of his alarm, Soori’s baby monitor beeping and the sun breaking through the sheer fabric of his blinds wake Jungkook up. He knows he doesn’t have too much time until he has to escape the comfiness of his bed so he makes the most of it, hugging you closer and nuzzling his face into your hair – breathing you in. You don’t move an inch, only a soft whimper leaving your mouth in your sleepy state. He smiles, happy to have you in his arms and excited to have his daughter in them in a matter of minutes.

He can’t remember the last time a Sunday felt so easy, so peaceful, and he hasn’t even gotten out of bed yet. And even though he stayed up way past his usual bed time last night, he feels more well rested than he has in weeks.

He carefully untangles his body from yours before he leaves your side, taking one last look at you, snuggled in his white hoodie and soft sheets. If he could, he would stare at you like this for the entirety of the morning but duty calls. Six A.M. is cold for a Sunday morning but not for Soori.

He makes his way to his closet, passing by the mirror and getting a glimpse of his naked reflection – barely making out the red marks that adorn his back, all the way down the curve of his ass. He likes having you imprinted on him like that – likes knowing you still linger. Your smell, your taste, your touch that resembles the euphoric need for him you felt last night.

He throws a pair of boxer briefs on, stepping into white and blue striped pyjama pants and pairing it with a soft, cream long-sleeved Henley tee – the first two buttons undone, exposing his smooth, tan chest. His hair’s a bit messy from sleep, forming soft miscellaneous curls at the ends but he doesn’t mind too much – lazily running a hand through the strands as he brushes his teeth.

He closes the door to his bedroom gently, as to not disturb you, and begins the walk down his long corridor until he gets to Soori’s room.

When he opens the door, peeking in before to make sure she’s fully awake, his smile widens when he sees her already propped up on her crib, chubby hands holding onto the rails. She smiles when she sees him, jumping up and down and letting out a high-pitched shriek that makes her stand up straighter at the force.

“Good morning, princess.”

He walks over to her crib, the lights from her starry-sky ceiling the only thing illuminating the room. Her arms outstretch out to him, hands in a grabby motion as he gets closer. He laughs – pride brewing in his chest at seeing how her little legs stand up by themselves now.

“How’d you sleep, baby?” He asks as he holds her, bringing her to him as he wraps his arms around her in a hug. She lets herself be cuddled, usually extra pliant in the mornings as sleep still lingers through her. She replies with a soft babble, little hands fisting at his shirt as she pulls him closer.

Jungkook walks over to the window, pulling her blinds open until the morning light is entering the room. Soori rubs at her eyes, squinting at the sudden brightness and he chuckles at this, bringing his lips to her cheek and muttering a sorry, Soo against the plump skin before he smooches it.

He bounces her in his hold a couple of times until she’s fully awake, taking in the sight outside of her window, excitedly pointing at the pool, eyes drifting from the blue water to her father and back – almost as if it was the first time seeing it and wanting to show him, too. His eyes widen in shock, nodding at her and mimicking her wonder.

“Woooah,” he gasps, making her giggle.

He walks the two of them to her dresser, contemplating for a second before he reaches for a dusty pink ribbed onesie, blue socks and her diapers and wipes. Before he places her on the soft, carpeted floor, he remembers the most important aid in the task that is getting her dressed nowadays.

“Hey, where’s your giraffe?” He asks and she claps her hands excitedly when he takes a hold of it from one of the corners of her crib, alongside her pink pacifier.

He sits on the floor, legs criss-crossed as he places her in front of him. She looks at her giraffe in wonder and he just stares at her as she plays. He likes taking his time with her whenever he can, just basking in the simplicity of the moment. Holding on to just how perfect life feels like when it just revolves around her. His fingers tickle at her tummy and she squirms, giggling before she rolls over and tries to escape.

“Hey, missy. Stay here,” he laughs, grabbing her and making her lay on her back once again. “You’re too smart for your own good.”

She kicks in his hold, loud chuckles filling the room as he grabs a hold of her feet, bringing his mouth to them and blowing raspberries on the soft, chubby skin. Her little toes are round and they curl at the feeling – he puts them in his mouth and she looks at him for a second, slightly confused before she breaks out into another set of giggles as he begins to nibble on them.

“Are these daddy’s toes?”

“Na-na,” she responds.

He smiles as he starts getting her ready for the day, concluding she’s distracted enough to not acknowledge the action too much. She whimpers and wails a little as he changes her diaper and tries to get her into her onesie but for the most part, she stays Soori – happy and giggly.

He’s so lucky. The thought never leaves him – it’s a constant in his life, knowing that she is the biggest blessing he could’ve asked for. The biggest blessing that he got. A prayer he never knew he performed but not doubting once she came from nothing but a miracle.

As he waits for her bottle to heat up, he stands her on top of the kitchen counter. Her little arms hold tight to his head as her knees wobble a bit. He makes sure he’s holding her, keeping her safe but also not too strongly so she feels confident – independent.

With a ready bottle, they make their way back upstairs to her room. He sits in the rocking chair that stands in the far end corner of her nursery. The wall right next to it is simple, the soft pink adorned by a couple of framed black and white pictures alongside a painting of her Jungkook drew when she was only a newborn. One of the pictures was taken in the hospital – Soori was only a couple of minutes old and her cries had gotten so loud as the nurses took her vitals and weighed her. He’d gone to her, not being able to stand her cries as they tugged at his heart. He nuzzled her in his arms, resting them at either side of her little body as his hands cradled her head. She calmed down immediately, softly cooing at him as her big eyes took him in. It was the first time he looked at her – really looked at her. She was so beautiful; round cheeks and shiny eyes, her nose just like his. He brought his own to hers, tips touching as her eyes fluttered shut, long eyelashes resting on her soft cheeks. He could barely believe it – she was his.

He has her in that same position right now – her hands coming up to pull at his hair as their noses touch. He wonders when she’ll outgrow being held like this, his heart breaking a little at the thought.

“Hey,” he says, poking her tummy once he comes up. Her eyes are fixed on the bottle in his hand. “Baby, say da-da.”

She stares at him, a playful smile complementing her playful eyes – almost mocking him. Everything’s a game to her, even more when it involves Jungkook mouthing short words in syllables, exaggerating his expression and tone.

“Na na na na na,” she chants.

“Daaaaa,” he tickles her, “da.”

She goes back to giggling and babbling, tongue peeking through her little lips as she fixates on her bottle. It might’ve not worked but at least he got those giggles out of her.

Out of everything he knows she will inevitably outgrow; he hopes his ability to make her smile like that never fades.

~

The first thought that breezes through your mind as you ease into consciousness is how comfortable you feel. The warmth and plushiness of the cocoon you’ve built around yourself in the bed resembles a cloud. You’re too comfortable. The suspicion has you frowning in confusion before you open your eyes.

You smile when you remember.

Right on queue and in perfect sync, you hear the door open. As you turn to the side to face it, you’re met with a view you’d like to imprint into your mind forever.

“Good morning,” Jungkook says, voice soft as he holds Soori in his arms. She suckles on her pacifier as her fingers hold onto her dad’s ear. She smiles when she sees you. “Did we wake you up?”

You shake your head, smiling at the both of them. “Good morning,” you say, voice a little groggy as your body begins to wake up.

He sits on the bed, setting Soori free from his hold as she excitedly crawls over to you, climbing through the pillows before she’s plopping her body on top of yours.

“Good morning, Soo,” you coo. “What a nice way to wake up, baby. I missed you.”

She nuzzles her head in your chest, staring at her dad sheepishly as you caress her silky hair. Jungkook raises his brows at her, chuckling a bit at her demeanour.

“She’s happy to see you,” he says.

“I’m happy to see her,” you say, “and you.”

“I’m happy to see you, too.” He shuffles his body closer to the two of you, laying down on top of his pillows before he places a soft kiss on your forehead, his hands on your hair mimicking the same action yours do on Soori. “How’d you sleep?”

“Good. Too good. What is it with this bed? Do you have fancy sheets or something? You look like you do.”

He laughs. “I stole a couple of mattresses and sheets from the hotel.”

“Of course you did.”

“Hey, you hungry? Soori wants French toast.”

You look down at Soori. “I can’t wait for you to talk so you can rat your daddy out.”

He gasps. “Hey. I wasn’t lying. She always wants French toast on the weekends.”

“Then let’s get her French toast.”

You don’t know if she shrieks excitedly because she knows what French toast means or because you pull her closer to you but whatever the reason, she goes into a frenzy. Little head nuzzling into Jungkook’s hoodie you wear as she giggles.

“She’s gone crazy,” Jungkook says, laughing himself as he finds hers contagious.

“Oh no,” you say in full on baby voice, which has her looking up at you, hands resting on your tummy as she lifts herself up. “Soori’s broken!” At this she lets out another scream before she throws her body into yours once again.

The three of you laugh, her chuckles only getting louder as you tickle her sides.

Jungkook doesn’t miss the way his heart and his brain take different roads at the sight before him. Ever-so-softly, his heart tells him this is all you’ve ever wanted. It pounds against his chest, the feeling – going wild, threatening to grow comfortable with how good it feels, how right. But on the other side his brain takes on flight or fight mode, battling with his weak heart, reminding it to not get too close. Telling him that getting what he wants is deceiving, because it never lasts.

It’s a fight – an exhausting one. Rationality and heart.

So much heart.

~

Jungkook moves swiftly around the kitchen and you’ve got to admit you’re impressed.

The only task he bestowed upon you was cutting up the strawberries in that way that you do, making them look like little hearts. Soori is strapped in her high chair, entertained by her ducky and an old episode of Wonder Pets Jungkook found on YouTube that plays softly on her iPad. She’s an old soul, too.

“Can you pass me the butter, baby?” He asks, eyes glued to the batter he mixes effortlessly with one hand.

“Here you go,” you say as you pass him the little container that holds it.

He hums in gratitude and you take a second to just observe him. Your heartbeat goes a little erratic at the domesticity the whole thing holds but most importantly, at the peace that settles not only upon you but in the room as a whole.

Mornings in Jungkook’s kitchen are not a rarity to you. But a morning like this is one is not only a novelty but also a little bit of a surprise. A lot has changed in Jungkook’s demeanour since you’ve met him – that softness that’s rooted in him shines more frequently and oftentimes, just for you. It feels good and you wonder how it can be possible for you to want him even more than you already do, but you have a feeling your heart will prove you wrong.

It’s then that you realize that liking has turned into longing, walking a dangerously close line to something that tempts that big feeling that you can feel building up in your chest, slowly taking over you. You can physically feel the way it dances through you, sneaking in, past your subconscious – your heart teasing your brain as it says, I know something you don’t.

You realize your gaze has been lost as you let your thoughts carry you away with them and when you snap back into reality, Jungkook’s standing behind you, sneaky fingers grabbing at your perfectly heart-shaped strawberries. His head rests on your shoulders as he munches on them.

“Good?”

“Mm, so good. They taste better cut like this,” he teases.

“I’m sure they do,” you say, head turning to the side before you place a tender kiss on his cheek. He closes his eyes in bliss, making you laugh and as you lean closer to him to repeat the gesture, his head turns offering his lips instead. He still bites on his strawberry, making you giggle into the kiss and scrunch your nose. “You’re so weird.”

“I’m just sharing,” he says, raising a brow at you playfully.

He grabs a handful of blueberries next, plopping some into his mouth before he mushes a single one between his fingers and walks over to Soori to give it to her. She takes it from his fingers, eyes still glued to the screen.

“I wish I was a no screen time ever type of parent.” He voices his thoughts.

“She’s got enough with you being a non-gmo type of parent.”

He lets out a loud laugh. “That’s only sometimes. It’s just- look at her. A real-life sized Ming-Ming the Duckling could walk inside this kitchen and she wouldn’t flinch.”

“Who?” You say, laughing at his broad knowledge of kid’s shows.

You walk over to him when you notice he’s sulking a bit, probably re-thinking all his parental decisions until now.

“Hey,” you say, arms wrapping around his waist. “Don’t be too hard on yourself or on her. She’s such a smart baby – she deserves a little bit of Wonder Pets.”

He only nods, lips still in that signature pout you’ve come to love. He melts into your touch, face nuzzled in your shoulder as you hold him. He’s being a little dramatic but it’s all for a good cause because it lands him straight into your arms.

Behind him, Soori starts to fidget in her chair, lips and cheeks tinted blue from the blueberries Jungkook had been sneaking into her hands. She starts to whine a little and you pout, about to reassure her when she sees she’s gotten your attention. Jungkook hears her and begins to straighten, still in your arms. He’s about to turn around when,

“Daaa,” Soori cries. “Da-da.”

He freezes in your hold, eyes widening before he’s frantically turning around and walking to her.

“Oh my God.” He says, looking at you for a brief second before his full attention is on her. “Oh, baby. I’m here. I’m here, come here.” He says, quickly freeing her from the straps that hold her into the chair and bringing her flush to his chest, wrapping his arms around her.

He sways her back and forth, dusting kisses all over her little head and on her cheeks. You stare at them, the biggest smile on your face as you let them have their moment, grateful that you could witness it. You notice the way his shoulders shake a little as he sniffles into her hair, holding back tears. It tugs at your heartstrings, making you feel things you can’t quite find words for.

He looks up at you, glassy eyes so tender, so soft. He lets the tears fall, closing his eyes and giving into the moment fully. He can feel his heart contract, bursting with love. You bring your hand to your cheek, eyes going from him to her and back and forth.

“I can’t believe that just happened,” he whispers.

“I can,” you say, making him smile.

Soori starts to squirm in his hold – he got lucky to be able to have her so calmly in his arms for that long. He looks down at her with so much adoration in his eyes.

“Can you say it again?” He tells her, smiling like a madman. She just frowns, reminding him how they got here in the first place. “After French toast? Okay, deal.”

You laugh, plating the food and drizzling a generous amount of honey on top before taking it over to the dining table. Jungkook is still in da-da bliss as he attempts to get it out of her once again. But it’s to no-avail as she begins to get actually fussy with hunger.

He sits her down in her high chair, in the middle of the two of you. But before he sits down, he runs into the living room, making you stare at Soori in confusion.

“Where did daddy go?”

“Da-da?” She says, making you wince as you bring your finger to your mouth, gently shushing her.

“I’ll keep that one a secret between us two.”

You hear him come back, turning around in your seat. He’s dry heaving from the quick run and holding a polaroid camera in his hand.

“Can you- can you take a picture of us? I take one for every milestone and, so far it’s been rolling over, crawling, laughing but this one’s our first big one.” He says, voice a little shy.

“Of course, Koo.”

He passes you the camera and runs to stand next to her, bending down some until he’s flushing his cheek to hers and smiling wide.

Her face is still blue from the blueberries and her little hand rests on his chin. His white shirt is stained blue, too. And he smiles – so, so big and so, so pure. Nothing but happiness shining bright in both their beautiful faces.

“Soori, smileeee,” you coo and that’s all it takes.

A memory, locked inside a picture forever.

Locked inside your heart, too.

~

After breakfast, the three of you throw yourselves on the couch.

Jungkook’s head rests on your lap, your fingers running through his hair, massaging at his scalp gently as Soori sits on his tummy, little body leaning against his legs as he bounces them up and down – making her laugh whenever he lowers them, holding her hands so she doesn’t fall.

“Daa,” he says.

“Daaaa,” she returns, and that’s how it’s looked like for the past fifteen minutes.

You’re completely enthralled in the back and forth, your heart making you believe that you could bask in it forever, even if as a simple spectator.

The doorbell rings, taking the three of you by surprise.

“Oh, that’s probably her birthday present,” he whispers the last bit, as if she would understand and somehow the surprise would be ruined. “I got next day delivery on it.”

He begins to get up but you stop him. “I’ll go,” you offer.

“No, baby, it’s okay.”

“Trust me, you don’t want to move,” you smile, making him laugh a little. “I’ll be right back.”

“Okay, thank you.” And before you can get up, his hand is finding the back of your neck, gently bringing your face to his before he presses a soft kiss on your lips.

You don’t know what it is, really, having them fluttering inside your tummy from the moment you woke up but this action in particular sends the butterflies in a frenzy.

You can’t rub off the smile, lazy from how at peace you feel and giddy from how frantically your heart is beating right now.

It’s the same smile you sport when you open the door.

The same smile that drops in one sudden heartbeat as you take in the sight in front of you.

“Ggu- oh. Hi, ___!” Mai’s voice startles you, the realization just now catching up with your brain.

Taehyung’s behind her, with Dae in his arms climbing up the stairs. When he sees you, his eyes widen in shock.

“___, hey. What a surprise,” he says.

“Uh- hi. Hey.”

“Mrs. ___!” Dae’s sweet voice chirps, breaking the tension some as you smile at him.

“Hey, buddy.” You tell him, stepping to the side to let them come in.

The silence around the four of you is dense as you walk to the living room, your stomach turning as you realize that Jungkook’s about to be probably twice as surprised as you. This was not quite how you pictured the moment of truth unfolding but, then again, you didn’t really picture it that much, having never had to hide any sort of relationship from anyone.

“Hey, is everything okay-” Jungkook gets up from the couch when he hears footsteps approaching, lips tightening shut as he sees Mai and Taehyung standing in front of him with questioning looks on their faces.

“Hey, bro. It’s game day, remember? The game… everyone’s coming over in a couple of hours,” Taehyung says, trying to keep his tone light-hearted as to ease the tension in the room.

“You said we could come over a little earlier to help you set up since Mrs. Chae isn’t here…” Mai adds.

“Ah, yeah- yes. I forgot. I asked ___ to come help, actually. But you guys are here now so,” Not only does Jungkook lies through his teeth but also, it doesn’t really stick – his lie. He turns to you, eyes on yours but not really seeing you.

You can physically feel the way your heart sinks into a depth you hadn’t felt before.

You stay quiet for about a second, face growing hot as you feel Mai’s and Taehyung’s eyes on you.

“I’ll get going, then.” Is all you can muster.

Jungkook looks like he’s about to say something, there’s an apologetic look to his eyes that you don’t miss but before he can say or do anything further, your eyes divert from his.

“It was nice seeing you guys again,” you say as you face his friends. “Bye, Dae. See you next Saturday!”

Your voice is soft as you say your goodbyes, Mai and Taehyung returning them. Dae gives you a hug and you ruffle his hair a little before you gently pull away, not looking at Jungkook twice before you’re turning around and making your way out.

His eyes are fixed on you up until you turn the corner that leads you to the doorway and even though he can’t see you anymore, his gaze remains focused on where it last saw you until he hears his front door open and then promptly close. Only then does he turn to look at his friends.

“You,” Mai starts, lowering her voice so Dae doesn’t hear, “asshole.”

“Huh?” Is all Jungkook can say.

“That was foul, Gguk.” Taehyung says.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, really? Let me paint you a picture. What do you want to justify first? The bedhead, your pyjamas or why it is your nanny’s wearing a Balenciaga hoodie that’s five sizes bigger than her.” Mai sneers.

Jungkook’s eyes land on the floor, that uneasiness regret brings settling upon his chest until it lands right in his gut, making him feel sick to his stomach.

“Why’d you lie,” Taehyung asks. His voice is softer than Mai’s.

“Because- we-,” He stutters in his words, realizing he doesn’t quite have the answer to his question.

“We, yeah. You can kiss that one goodbye.” Mai’s voice is stern and Taehyung turns to her, narrowing his eyes. She walks over to Jungkook, taking Soori from his arms. “Ggukie. You don’t get to hurt people just because someone hurt you. She didn’t deserve that.”

“I know.”

“Fix,” she turns to Taehyung, “it.”

Mai turns around, holding Dae’s hand before they head to the kitchen.

“So, let’s talk. You need to talk.”

“No, I need to talk to her, I-”

“Eh-eh, stop right there. Listen, you did something shitty but you need to process it first. There’s no point in empty apologies, Gguk, and the only way you can be sincere is if you understand why you did it.”

“Fuck,” Jungkook throws himself back on the couch, head falling on his hands.

“Does she know? About Ira.”

“No.”

“Don’t you think she should?”

“I’m not ready.”

“Do you trust her?”

“Yeah,” it takes him by surprise just how easily the answer leaves him.

“Then I think that’s as ready as you’ll ever be.”

~

It takes a lot for you to give into anger. In general, you don’t think it’s worth it. You like to believe letting yourself be angry does more harm to you than whatever it is that shone light onto the feeling in the first place.

It’s only when you’re sat in the empty bus on your way back home that you realize you’re not angry at Jungkook.

It’s also then that you wish you were.

You wish you were angry at him because anger seems a far easier thing to cope with than the pain that takes over you as his words resonate through your head – way too loud and way too real, even though he lied.

Another thing you wish you could do is blame him. Put it all on him, point a judgemental finger his direction and say you did this to me. But the reality is far more complex than that. Blame is a nasty thing and you’re, at the end of the day, no one to judge.

For a second, you think you’re about to reach Nirvana with the way you’re approaching the situation – but in reality, the only reason why you’re reacting the way you are is because you’re running on love.

Love is understanding.

It is a god-awful moment to realize that you love Jeon Jungkook – and you make sure to look up at the sky, scowling at your angels for presenting you with such knowledge in a time where it’s less than conventional to feel love. But you do. You do and you can’t quite help it, nor do you have the strength to.

Your eyes fill up with tears, unable to control the breathy sob that passes your lips.

You don’t know what being in love feels like, so you can’t quite decipher if that’s what you’re feeling. But you know what loving someone feels like. And you know you love him.

You know you love him because even as you hurt, you want to comfort him.

Because even as your own eyes shed tears for him, you can’t help but think about his fallen ones.

Because you don’t deserve the pain but neither does he. To any extent.

Only feelings bound by love can produce such pain.

It hurts because you love him.

Once you reach your front door, the feeling morphs into pure exhaustion – wanting nothing more than to throw yourself in your bed and sleep the commotion that unfolds in your heart off.

You step inside, throwing your keys into the little bowl that rests on top of the table next to your door. It makes a loud sound as some of its contents spill out.

“Well, at least you’re alive.” Lucy’s voice makes you jump.

She’s lounging on the couch next to Jimin, both of them still in their pyjamas, a random Christmas movie playing on the TV for some reason you don’t have half a mind to decipher.

Jimin looks at you – brows furrowing as he takes you in. Something oddly familiar about your appearance that doesn’t take him long to put his finger on.

“Sorry – I haven’t checked my phone. I’m- just going to bed.”

“Wait, are you okay?” She asks, standing up from the couch.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine. Just tired. Enjoy… your movie.” You say, smiling at Jimin politely before you scurry to your room, closing the door behind you and letting out a loud sigh before you throw yourself in bed.

Sleep settles into you and he’s the last thing on your mind before you give into it.

~

Jimin stares at the screen of the TV but his mind wanders elsewhere. Lucy’s in the bathroom and although she hasn’t said a word, he can feel the tension of that unspoken thing neither of them are saying.

Right in tune with his thoughts, Jungkook calls him.

“What did you do,” he says as he brings his phone to his ear.

“I need your help,” he can hear the sound of Jungkook’s car unlocking in the distance.

“Shoot and I’ll try.”

“I need ___’s address.” Jimin ponders on his request for a minute, knowing well that if he gave into it, it could get him in trouble with not only his girlfriend but also his girlfriend’s best friend. It’s lethal, really, the choice he has to make. “Jimin, I’ll get it whether you give me it or not. I’d just get it faster from you and wouldn’t have to bother Kaya.”

“I’m sending you my location.”

“You’re there?”

“Yeah.”

“Is ___ there?”

“Yeah. Her and your Balenciaga sweatshirt.”

The line disconnects.

~

Lucy gawks at him and Jungkook can’t quite make out if it’s in shock or anger.

“Hey, Lucy.” He says, standing in your doorway still.

“Are you here to see Jimin?”

Lucy’s an awful liar, too.

“No. I’m here to see ___.”

“She’s asleep. Does she know you were coming?”

“No. I need to talk to her, though. Can I come in?”

She hesitates for a second and even though she has no idea of what went down between the two of you, her sixth sense is beeping – loud.

Eventually, she steps aside, letting him in.

Jimin looks at him, shaking his head slightly.

Your apartment feels homey and it makes Jungkook’s heart sink even further – to be in your space like this. Everything screams you and it only makes sense the place feels like a little safe haven – comforting and warm. It smells like peaches and cream, he notices.

“Which one’s her room?”

Another second of hesitation for Lucy who is putting a hell of a lot of mental strain on her internal debate on whether she should be making things this easy for Jungkook.

She looks at Jimin, who’s eyes plead for the sake of his friend.

“Left,” is all she says.

“Thank you, Lucy.”

She sits back on the couch, a loud sigh leaving her lips.

“Baby,” Jimin tries but he fails.

“No. Don’t chant your victory just yet.”

~

When you wake, you can feel the throb at your temples – it’s sharp and hits at them repeatedly, spreading to your forehead as you wince in pain. But, still unconscious, the feeling is soothed by a pair of warm arms enclosing around you, followed by a familiar smell – a comforting touch. You sigh in relief.

“___,”

Your eyes open.

“Jungkook?”

“Baby,”

You tense in his arms, mind spiralling although your body stays still.

“What are you doing here?”

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” his voice is muffled against your neck but you can hear every word.

“Please don’t say that,” your voice is but a whisper.

“But I am. ___, I don’t ever want to inflict any pain upon you, but- I’m still hurting. My pain- my pain can be destructive and you don’t deserve that. There’s no excuse big enough for you to hurt as a chain reaction to my pain.”

You turn around, eyes finally meeting his. Your eyes are red and swollen and he can feel something break in his heart – like a knife to thin glass, shattered in one swift movement.

“If you hurt, I hurt.”

He just stares at you, fingers lacing through your hair as he brings your head closer, lips touching your forehead. He presses a kiss onto the soft skin, breathing heavy before he says, “please don’t say that.”

“Why?”

“Because I can’t do that to you.”

“You can split your pain in two. I’m no heart mender, Jungkook, but I can help. I want to help. If you let me- I can take it. I can-”

He doesn’t know what to say to you – he doesn’t know how to deny you and he doesn’t know how to let himself open up to you.

“You’re too good for that.”

“I’m not too good for anything, Jungkook. I’m just- human. I’m flawed and I fuck up and I cry when things get rough. I’m not telling you I can do magic, I’m just telling you that if you’re willing to let me in, I can be there for you.”

“I’m not- ready, ___.”

Love is understanding.

Love is understanding.

Love is understanding.

You stroke his cheek.

“You don’t have to be. I don’t have to know it all to understand. I can just-” love you enough to understand, “be a friend.”

“I don’t want to be your friend.”

You smile. “We could never be more if we weren’t.”

“You’re wise beyond your years.”

His eyes are glassy and you want to say I love you, I love you, I love you.

“So let me. Let me be a friend. Because if you think you hurt me today you have no idea what you would be doing to me if you didn’t at least let me try.”

He nods.

Jungkook kisses you. He kisses you with ten thousand feelings on the tip of his tongue – so pure you can make out everything they entail. I’m sorry, I’m scared, I want you, I need you. You kiss him back. You kiss him back with so much love. It feels warm – it feels safe. He wants to let you in. He wants you. However he can have you, he wants you.

His lips travel down, kissing your cheek, your neck, basking in the tiny whines that leave your lips. Your hands snake past his sweatshirt, caressing softly at the skin – touching everywhere they can reach, pulling him closer as you become needier, greedier.

It’s a gentle motion – the way your clothes come off, scattering your floor in a matter of seconds. The way he turns you around, a string of sweet nothings passing his lips, making your body break out in goosebumps as his words touch your ears, swimming straight to your heart.

It’s slow – the way he coaxes your body into that heavy desire that pools at the pit of your stomach. His big hands on your breasts, fingers enclosing around your nipple as his tongue against your neck mimics what it would do to them if it could reach. It’s a lengthy descend, from your chest to your cunt as his digits run through your middle – his lips forming a grin as he feels you squirm under his touch, hips circling, making him hiss at the feeling of your plump ass against his cock.

His middle finger circles your clit as his mouth finds yours, swallowing your sweet moans as he pulls them out of you – one by one, each breathier than the other. You whisper his name against his lips when you feel his fingers sink inside of you, your eyes closing slowly at the stretch as you beg him for more.

Your arm reaches out to your bedside table, frantically opening a drawer and retrieving a condom before you’re passing it to him.

“You’re so tight around my fingers, baby.”

“I don’t care,” your voice lilts at the end in a breathy moan. “I need to feel you. Please.”

He groans, hand closing around his length as he pumps a couple of times before bringing the foil wrapper to his lips, opening it in one swift motion. He rolls the condom on, his fingers thrusting in and out of you sloppily a couple more times before he’s aligning himself over your entrance.

He teases at your opening, circling his tip against your hole, a moan escaping his lips as you clench around his crown – the squeeze almost unbearable for Jungkook. He brings your leg up, resting it on top of his before he thrusts his hips into you. You cry – the stretch painful and the burning feeling causing tears to prick at the corner of your eyes.

“Shh, baby. Relax for me.”

You nod and he brings his finger to your lips.

“Spit.” He commands.

You do as he says, saliva building up before his fingers are all but scooping it up and out of your mouth.

His fingers glisten and he brings them down to your clit, coating it in your juices before he circles his index and middle finger against it. The pleasure helps ease some tension from the stretch and he feels you relax in his arms. He holds you – arms around your waist, hand cupping your breast as he begins to thrust into you in deep, steady thrusts.

“So good for me, baby.”

You moan, the angle has his cock hitting right into that spot that has your eyes rolling to the back of your head as all the pain is replaced by pure and utter pleasure. You can feel all of him – sweaty bodies flushed against one another, every ridge of his cock against your snug walls as you become impossibly tighter around him.

“Koo, you feel so good.”

You feel good around him. You feel good close to him. You feel good taking over every single one of his senses. He cries out in pleasure, letting himself get lost in you – unravelling little by little as a million feelings flood his mind.

“Fuck, baby. Fuck. I’m gonna cum.”

“Me too – I’m so close, Ggukie. Please don’t stop fucking me.”

His hand grabs at your hips – the touch firm as he uses the leverage to piston his cock inside of you. It only takes a couple of thrusts – your pussy’s grip on his cock like a vice, so wet and warm. Your body hot to the touch. He releases into the condom, a loud groan passing by his lips as his breathing grows erratic.

“Cum for me, angel. Let me feel you.”

His words are accompanied by the bliss his release brings – faint whimpers and little moans in between, making you throw your head back in pleasure. It fits perfectly in the crook between his neck and shoulder and his lips press at the soft of your cheek, hand coming up to wrap around your throat as your body begins to shake – your orgasm taking over you.

It takes you both a minute to catch your breaths. Your body falls limp against him, cunt still clenching around him as the aftershocks of your climax has you seeing stars.

“I,” Jungkook doesn’t know what exactly he wants to say, his mind is cloudy – heart pounding against his chest. He thinks it’s the arousal, how he can feel his cock hardening once again as your pussy pulses around it. “I want you. Fuck, I want all of you.”

You smile. You feel drunk. He feels like a drug – like something you can’t get enough of, even when you’ve just had a fix.

“Have me. Please, have me.”

Love me. Please, love me.

~

hiiiiii <3 if u made it this far, thank you. i love u. i feel very overwhelmed by all the love to build a home has been receiving lately and i just wanted to say that it means the world to me – you guys are truly making all my lil writer dreams come true and i hope u enjoyed this chapter and future ones too! if you did enjoy, please let me know! i love talking to you guys and cheesing over these three as u know <333 I’m sending a million kisses your way! xxx

~

★taglist★

“You know what I do when I’m really horny?” Lucy’s question snaps you out of your sulking.

You stay quiet for a couple of seconds, debating whether you want to know the answer to that or not. Today had been stressful enough – a long, slow Monday that had marked the highest temperatures the Summer had seen. A historical heatwave, they called it. Though your heat came less from the fact that the Earth is so polluted it reaches the 40s and more from your activities the day prior.

You decide to venture into her potential advice. “Tell me, Senpai.”

“I have sex with Jimin.” She simply shrugs, voice relaxed as she takes another lick of her strawberry iced lolly. You wince at how lewd she makes it look.

“You had sex for the first time like- yesterday.”

“Wrong. I made love for the first time two weeks ago.”

“My bad, Aphrodite.”

“You’re just bitter because I’ve had sex in your boyfriend’s house and you haven’t.” Her smile is roguish and you can’t help but return it, consequently shoving a pillow her way.

“You’re so bad. So, so bad.”

“The mattress had great elasticity, by the way. Like crazy comfortable. Like- oh! Duh. Like a hotel bed!”

You groan, throwing your head back in frustration. “I don’t know what hurts the most – the fact that I want to know how comfortable his mattress is or that… he’s not my boyfriend. He’s not my boyfriend and therefore we have to take it slow. We have to be good, Lucy. We can’t let another playroom gate unfold.”

“I think playroom gate was totally healthy.”

That’s her new thing, preaching about the importance of a healthy sex life.

“Fuck, I know. I didn’t even know sex could feel like that. And we didn’t even go all the way.” Your breathing starts picking up, chest heaving slightly at the sole memory.

“Okay, okay. I’ll give you actual good advice. From a former virgin to a newly rebirthed one-” you narrow your eyes at her, another pillow ready to swing in her direction. She just giggles. “Meditate.”

“Meditate?”

“Yup. It really helps you relax and focus on the now. Consciousness and all that.”

“I am consciously horny. Now.”

She laughs. “Where’s Herbie?”

Herbie, also known as your vibrator.

“I don’t want Herbie!” You throw your hands up in defeat, sighing as they come down.

You’re fully throwing a tantrum, you’re aware. But you can’t help the tension that builds all through you. The way something in your lower belly drops like quickfire when you all but think about his face – his hooded eyes, glassy over how on edge he was. The red of his lips. The mess you’d made of his hair from running your hands through it, tugging whenever he had your hips bucking and your legs closing around his big, strong ones.

Here we go again.

Another groan.

Lucy gets serious all of a sudden, straightening up in her place on the couch. “Well, ___, then you’re gonna have to revaluate this whole taking it slow. Or, I don’t know, get on your knees and pray. Maybe he'll show mercy and, you know, whilst you’re at it...”

Meditation sucks.

Okay, you’re being dense.

Meditation as to treat sexual frustration sucks. Yet you keep gravitating towards it because for one, you already paid for the overpriced app subscription and two, it’s good white noise. It’s your third day in this torturous journey to tuning into your higher self who, presumably, is less horny and more collected. A true being of light. You decide to complement your spiritual practices with a nice walk – making sure to get out of the bus a few stops prior so you can collect yourself with the aid of some movement and fresh air until you have to come face to face with the very root of your distress.

You smile. That’s all it takes, really. One brief second of him crossing your mind. Fuck welcoming peace. Jeon Jungkook is so much better.

You pick up your pace, your whole demeanour giddying up at the fact that it’s only approximately twenty minutes until you see him again. Him and Soori, hand in hand as she practices her walking – big round eyes and puffy cheeks coming up to greet you, her little button nose scrunching up in excitement. Her expressions are a carbon copy of her father’s, whose face takes on the same motions at the sight of you.

When you finally make it to his front door, you can feel the excitement settling in your chest. It makes you think about how lucky you are – to be able to come to them.

You ring the doorbell and wait for a minute, smile adorning your face as you hear the door unlock from the inside as it begins to swing open. You take a step forwards, voice ready to chirp out your usual greeting for Mrs. Chae.

The words are caught in your throat as the door comes to an open and you’re met with Jungkook, a bright smile on his face as he holds Soori in his arms, her smile growing so wide it makes her pacifier slip from between her mouth.

All of it is unexpected – from having him open the door for you, to seeing him first thing in the morning and taking in his enthusiasm.

Jungkook is halfway out the door, free arm outstretched, ready to welcome you in it.

“What are you wearing?” Your words make him stop dead in his tracks, confused.

You just stare at him, unabashedly scanning your eyes through his body. He looks fresh out of the shower – hair silky and soft and a soft expression in his face that tells you he’s well rested. He looks good, that’s not it. What’s it is his outfit, if it can even be considered as such. He’s wearing a mesh, see-through olive green set. The short sleeve shirt and pants so sheer they leave little to the imagination as your eyes fall from the dark ink you can make out on his shoulder to his black briefs. The first couple of buttons in his shirt are undone and so is your sanity.

“Wha- oh. My pyjamas? It’s a cozy morning. We’re cozy, you see?” He motions to Soori as he says this and you take in her cute lilac sweatsuit, a soft pair of bunny slippers on her feet as they swing back and forth frantically. She smiles at you, letting you know she wants to be in your arms – almost surprised herself that she gets to see you earlier than usual.

“You sleep like that?”

“No, I don’t. I sleep-” but Jungkook doesn’t finish that sentence, for both of your sakes. “It’s a lounge set, now can you come in?”

You step inside, a chuckle escaping your lips. “A lounge set. That is so presump-” but before you can finish your witty remark, his arm snakes around your waist and his lips collapse against yours in a soft, gentle kiss. “Jung-,” you gasp, “what are you doing? Where’s Mrs. Chae?”

“She’s away. On vacation,” he says, lips still grazing yours. He places one last chaste kiss, smiling a little at the way you pout, still confused. He pecks your cheek before he finally says, “good morning.”

It’s going to be a long, long day.

“Morning,” your voice is a dreamy whisper, chest still flushed to his. Soori taps on your shoulder repeatedly, a bit more forceful than usual as she lets out a little whine, demanding your attention. She’s still getting used to having to share it. “Hi, princess. Good morning. How are you?” You take her from him as she jumps in your arms.

“Ouch,” he brings his hands to his chest dramatically, “so she gets all the morning love?”

“Now I see where she gets it from,” you tease, making him scowl at you. “Good morning, lounge princess.” You coo at him, pinching his cheek.

“Do you not like it?” He says, gaze dropping to take a look at his clothes as if he hadn’t just picked them himself.

You hold back a laugh, but your smile gives your amusement away. “It’s… different. You can rock it, though.”

He pouts. “You’re mean.”

“Naaaa,” Soori says, taking you by surprise.

“Yeah, Soo. Tell daddy.” You walk away as you say this, making your way to the kitchen.

He’s about to protest on your use of the forbidden word but his brain fails him, currently working at a solid 3% of its normal capacity. He opts for engaging in baby talk. That always helps. “Don’t flatter yourself. Everything is Na nowadays. We fall into the same category as the giraffe, the rubber ducky and… whatever’s edible, really.”

“So, are you working from home today?” You ask, strapping Soori in her high chair. Jungkook got a head start on her breakfast already and she waits patiently for it.

“Yeah. I pulled crazy hours yesterday so I told everyone to take it easy today. I still have a bunch of contracts to look through but, no meetings.”

“Ah, explains the fit.” You say, eyes glued to the apple you’re slicing.

He rolls his eyes, but walks towards you nonetheless. “Hey,” he towers you from behind, hands resting at either side of your body on the counter. “I missed you.”

“You saw me yesterday.” You mock nonchalance but he can hear the smile in your voice you hide from him.

“Well, yeah, but- I missed you. Like being able to hug you. And stuff.”

“And stuff,” you mimic, a playful tone to your voice.

“What did you put in your coffee this morning? You’re extra witty today, baby.”

Baby.

He hasn’t called you that since Sunday and your brain can’t grasp just how weak the pet name makes you. How you can physically feel your knees weakening, the way they write in poems and love songs.

Adoration with two pumps of horny, Jungkook. That’s what I put in my coffee.

You turn around, sheepishly smiling at him. His grin widens when he sees the light blush to your cheeks, arms leaving the counter and taking a step back. You miss his proximity already. “Nothing,” you sing-song, “I missed you, too.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He smirks before his head lowers, his lips on a journey to find yours.

Soori shrieks, pointing at her apple as she lets out her infamous, “Naaa.”

You turn to her and Jungkook takes a step back.

“Sorry, Soo. Coming right up.” You tell her.

You go back to slicing her fruit and Jungkook plates her eggs, cutting them into tiny pieces as he does the same with the toast, lathering some avocado on top.

“Sorry,” he says, avoiding your eyes. “We should probably…,”

“Behave. Whilst, you know, I’m on the clock and everything.” You finish his sentence for him, pressure so evidently swimming in the air, it could cut a diamond.

“Yeah- yes. Also… we should, you know. Take it slow.”

“Yeah,” you agree, voice casual but there’s a strain to it. “Sunday was just… a tiny mishap. Good, but- a mishap.”

“Yes. I mean, I don’t regret it-”

You turn to him, frenzied eyes meeting his. “Neither do I.”

“But we should probably go back to our programmed schedule of… taking it easy. Slow is good.”

“Slow is great.”

“Yeah,”

“Yeah.”

~

Slow is, to put it lightly, hell.

You’ve been tip-toeing around the sexual tension that follows you like a shadow wherever you go – physically and mentally.

Yet, besides the gruelling desire for him that you can’t help but welcome all through your body you can’t really ignore how it doesn’t just stop at that. It’s the closeness you crave – in more than just the physical aspect of your relationship. Or more so, your situationship. That also has your head looping in a frenzied, uncontrollable train of thought.

You can’t shake just how much you enjoyed having him sweep you in his arms and press your lips to his – Soori in his hold, the both of them welcoming you with bright smiles and a sense of home. One that you’ve tried to tame down from inside your chest since the morning. You feel foolish, but it’s inevitable – the way you thought something had drastically shifted inside of him. That he’d changed his mind, not really caring anymore about someone finding out. Not his friends, not Mrs. Chae, not a potential neighbour passing by. It’s a stretch, in all ways fathomable. Because in reality, you know that slow doesn’t stem so much from what people would think when they realize he’s engaging in more than professional affairs with his nanny; but more so from the fact that opening up, to you, to the world, hell – even to himself – is still dreadful to Jungkook.

“Naaa-na?” Soori blabs, shoving a fistful of noodles that overflow from her little hand your way.

“No, baby. Those are noodles.” You tell her, smiling sweetly and leaning your face on your hand as you stare at her.

“Nanana,” she half sings, half states – shaking her head as she gives you that signature bunny smile.

You can feel your heart seizing up in your chest. She looks so much like her dad.

“Hey, bun. You look so much like your daddy when you smile like that.” She just stares at you, giddiness not faltering once as she continues to eat her noodles. “You’re so cute, just like him.”

You gave your heart to Soori far before Jungkook began occupying it, too. She was so easy to love – wide eyed, curious and even though she never lost that easy spirit of hers, you could see how much the situation was affecting her. She would cry, sometimes for long stretches of time, inconsolably sobbing into your shoulder as you rocked her back and forth, attempting to put her down for her nap. Her eyes would tear up and her little body would shake in your arms and the process was exhausting enough to carry its essence throughout the day. At times, Jungkook would walk through the front door, finally back from work, and she would fall into his arms, a new wave of tears threatening to spill from her glassy eyes. She would stare at her dad, quivering chin and tucked bottom lip, as if wondering if he’d leave again in a matter of minutes.

You didn’t realize just how affected she’d been until you overheard Jungkook, Hobi and Kenny that night after the inauguration. The bitterness in his words when he claimed Ira didn’t love Soori enough to stay.

It was then that you grasped it, the severity of the reality she was living through when you stepped into her life. It made you want to do things differently back then. If you’d known, you would’ve been able to understand just why she dreaded being put into her crib during nap time – fighting sleep in your arms until her little body gave in. She couldn’t just be left there, always needing to fall asleep in your arms. She would toss and turn, whining when she saw you walk away. It made sense to you why doorway goodbyes would be filled with tears and how when Jungkook came back, instead of excitement she would feel relief – followed by a new wave of fear he’d leave again.

You stare at her – really look at her. A happy baby. Easy-going, loving and trusting. A peace about her that sometimes startles you when you leave her to play by herself for a couple of minutes and realize she’s awfully quiet; only to find her in her own little world, quietly babbling to herself and her ever-growing family of plushies. She’s got giggles and tickles and shrieks whenever she sees any sort of animal on the tv – real or animated.

She’s good, you think. She healed.

You know her world is small. Her hours seem shorter, days breezing by as she seems to grow up with every passing minute. Yet you can’t help but think how time truly did wonders for her.

Time and love.

You truly hope time is just as good with Jungkook.

Time, and yes – love.

~

By the time it takes you to get Soori cleaned up from lunch and into pyjamas, cozied up and tucked in bed, it’s nearing half past one. Jungkook hasn’t left his office since the morning after breakfast time was done for Soori, which is odd because he always makes sure he’s with her for lunch whenever he’s home – even if it’s just to make her a bottle and put her down for her nap. What’s even more worrying is he hasn’t eaten since either, and with his breakfasts consisting of coffee and whatever nibbles he can get out of Soori’s – it’s even more concerning.

You tidy up the kitchen, scroll through your phone aimlessly and when the clock marks 2 pm you worry enough to make your way to his office, gently knocking on the door in case he’s really submerged in something or on a call of some sort. When a couple of seconds go by and there’s no reply from the other side of the door, your overdramatic brain begins crafting stories of the worst-case scenario.

“Come in,” he says, making you sigh in relief.

You open the door, stepping inside and gently closing it behind you. “I thought you were dead.”

That makes his eyes snap from his computer to you in a millisecond, brow raised and a playful smirk adorning his features. “That’s extreme. Where’s Soori?”

“Napping.” You reply, walking closer to his desk.

“Shit- already? I lost track of time.”

“You have really bad eating habits.” Your voice is monotone, casual.

“I love it when you speak your mind,” he says, tone not entirely sarcastic. His eyes are glued back to the screen of his computer. “Hey, can you help me with something?”

“Me?”

He hesitates for a second, looking up as he says, “yes, you.”

“I don’t know how much I can help with whatever goes on at the other side of this desk but, sure.” You say as you make your way towards him.

“Why’d you say that? You’re very smart.”

His comment flusters you. “Tell me how I can be of service then.”

“I’m writing this speech for a charity event we’re hosting next week and, I don’t know. I feel like it sounds very impersonal. Sort of like- a template. I don’t like it.”

“Ah. Then yes, I can definitely help.”

“Come on, Maya Angelou. Time to shine.” He says, rolling slightly to the side on his big leather chair so you can take a better look at his computer, a half-written speech on the screen.

You lean forwards, hands resting on his desk as you bent some, eyes fixed on the document as you scan through the words, analysing them. He feels slightly exposed. He also feels an intractable impulse to sit you on his lap. Not to necessarily do anything too sinful just – hold you.

He decides to be gentlemanly instead.

“Here, sit down-” he begins, body halfway up as he begins to stand. You just wave your hand at him in dismissal, murmuring a string of no, no’s. You look very focused and Jungkook decides to leave you be, sitting back down on his chair.

From what you can take, it’s a charity event to gather funds for a school for blind and disabled children. It’s heartfelt and compassionate, at times a bit informal even. It makes you smile, thinking about how much it feels like you’re reading a journal entry – written by none other than Jeon Jungkook.

“It’s good. I see what you mean, though, by trying to make it less impersonal. But I don’t think it’s impersonal at all. Whenever you want to transmit feelings whilst keeping your tone formal you do need some certain balance, though. Just so it doesn’t lose the tonality that makes up a speech. So, here- may I?” You say, fingers dancing close to the keyboard.

“Yes, yes. Of course,” he says.

You get to work, giving him pointers, asking him to write the sentence so you can twitch it a bit – expanding his vocabulary with fancy words that only end up making the speech more sincere. Approachable, as you say. By the third paragraph, he’s pretty much got it – having perfected it and added enough for it to be up to his standards.

“Thank you. I’ve never finished writing anything so quick in my life,” he tells you.

“You’re welcome. You should eat something,” you smile at him but it’s in a slightly patronizing way that makes his chest flutter when he realizes you worry about him.

“I will, I just- have to go through this one contract,” he returns.

“I thought you said you told everyone to take it easy today?”

“Yeah, them. Not me. It’s enough of a treat to be able to stay home, though.”

“Is the contract really long?” You’re stalling, not wanting to leave his side just yet.

“Yeah, look.” He places a stack of papers in front of him, bible-thick.

Your eyes widen. “Holy shit.”

He snorts, head thrown back as it turns into laughter. “Yes – holy shit, alright. What’s even worst, look at the tiny font” he says, skimming through the pages.

You gasp, a bit more dramatically than intended. But it doesn’t stop there. “I’m sorry you have to sit through agonizing paperwork,” your voice is sweet and you bring your hand to his head, giving him a soft pat. Or at least that’s the original intention.

He keens into your touch, leaning his head to the side slightly. So, inevitably, you find yourself carding your fingers through his hair – caressing softly. It’s an innocent touch, you know it and Jungkook knows it, too. So, he pushes all impulses aside and gives into it. it’s comforting to say the least and soon enough he’s returning the affection with a harmless touch of his own as he runs his knuckles down the soft skin of your free hand that rests at your side.

“Yeah,” he says, his voice low as he tries to remember exactly what he’s agreeing on.

“Still, you need to… recharge. Fuel and all that. Unwind,” you don’t mean for the last word to resemble a whimper but you can’t really stop it as it leaves you.

“Mhm. Your company helps though,” he says, sweet words matching his sweet face yet highly contrasting to the shadow that casts upon his gaze. Eyes dark with a hint of a glimmer in them.

“T-that’s good. I’m- glad. I can, um, get you something. To eat, I mean. You know, bring it here.” You offer, brain convincing you your voice sounded way more collected than it actually did.

He smiles. “No, that’s alright. Thank you, though.”

He just looks up, staring at you with that side smirk that makes your bones feel like jelly, bringing your hand closer to him as he laces his fingers with yours.

“You’re welcome.”

He simply hums, thumb caressing your hand ever so softly.

Slow. It’s written in both your gazes as your eyes lock with his, only missing them when you blink, a slow motion that makes your eyelids feel heavy with every passing second.

Slow. The same way he pulls you closer. Close enough to step between his legs before you instinctively fall into his touch completely, sitting on his lap.

Slow. Just like your touch as the hand that isn’t still intwined in his cups his cheek, stroking softly – slowly.

Slow. In the way he smiles, face relaxing as he leans into your touch, eyes closing as he basks in the feeling of your hands on his skin.

Slow. Like the words that fall from your lips as you say, “let me take care of you.”

Jungkook sighs, eyes fluttering once, then twice before he nods. Rationality catching up with him way too slowly to deny you.

Your hands snake past the collar of his shirt, eyes locking with his as he shudders under your touch. Your nails scraping lightly at the warm skin on his shoulders before you dig your fingers into the flesh. He tenses for a second before his whole body finally relaxes, melting into the chair as he lets out a faint moan – hand firmly squeezing at your hip before it lands on your ass.

“You know – it’s growing on me,” your fingers dance over his chest, nails brushing softly as they land on his sternum, “your lounge set.”

“Is that why you want to take it off of me?” He asks, raising his brows, a lopsided smirk forming at his lips when he feels your fingers work his buttons undone.

You let out a soft chuckle. “Not necessarily.”

“Hm, fine,” he lets outs a soft whimper when you release the last button, pausing for a second to take in his reaction before your hand travels upwards, running over his toned abdomen. His skin is so tan – so golden, you salivate at the sight. “I’ll believe you.”

His pretty eyes fall shut, lids heavy as his focus fixates on the way your hands feel as they run through his skin – like wood to a fire, only making his own flame burn brighter for you. Hotter. Your hand settles over his chest, right on top of his heart and he’s positive you can feel it beating in your palm as his breathing starts to pick up at the promise of you.

Jungkook’s brain isn’t necessarily going places of where said promise will land. In fact, he didn’t really know what your words entitled when he agreed to them. But it sure as hell shocks him like a punch to the gut when he feels your touch faltering, hand falling lazily on his lower stomach as your movements follow and he immediately misses your proximity. In slight disbelief and disappointment, he opens his eyes, mouth instinctively forming a pout that doesn’t quite see completion when he sees you shifting your weight onto the floor, settling between his open legs. He nearly chokes on his spit, the peaceful trance your touch had him on long lost as you bite your lip, eyes pleading what your words don’t. You’re waiting – that innocent look masking your sinful thoughts as you leave his fate in his own hands.

And once again, Jungkook can’t deny you. Not when you look like that. Not when he’s craved you since the very moment he had his first taste of you – of that one thing he didn’t know he wanted so much. The one thing he dared think rationality could triumph, only to be hit with the realization that whatever magnetic pull draws you to him is bigger than him and all his self-control combined. So, he lets his hand cup your cheek, fingers closing around your jaw, skimming through your skin until his thumb presses on your bottom lip. You never once shift your gaze from him, even when his own travels to your mouth as it parts slightly, enough to let his thumb hook itself between your teeth as your tongue circles around it. His face contorts in pleasure, upper lip tugging up before his teeth pulls his bottom one in.

You lean forward, fingers running teasingly over the waistband of his pants.

He hisses, tummy caving in at the feeling. “Don’t tease,” he warns.

“I’m not. Just going slow,” you say, faux innocence lacing your tone.

His laugh is throaty and it hitches in his chest when he feels your palm close around the outline of his clothed cock. It throbs and thickens in your hold as you squeeze, gripping him firmly, a moan escaping his lips at the sudden contact. The sound lands right in the pit of your stomach and your fingers hook inside the waistband of his pants, tugging his briefs along as you drag them down until they pool around his ankles. His cock jerks as it sits across his pelvis and a deep groan ripples straight out of his chest as your hand wraps around it and your tongue licks a thick strip from base to tip before you’re hollowing your cheeks and sucking frivolously around the head.

“Ngh- fuck, baby. Fuck.” His voice is strained and raspy, hand tangling in your hair as he tugs on it slightly.

He feels even bigger around your mouth than he did in your hand, sitting heavy on your tongue as you rasp for air. Your hand pumps at his shaft, stimulating the places your tongue can’t reach as the tip moves in rapid, controlled movements over his frenulum, making him gasp – the airy little sound lilting at the end, turning into a moan.

Jungkook’s jaw clenches, breaths coming out erratically and his chest heaves as your mouth closes around his cock once again, head picking up pace at the push and pull of your mouth – the back of your throat tempting his tip more and more with every thrust.

“Like that, baby. Fuck. Take it all,” and that’s enough incentive for you to sink your warm mouth all the way in, making his cock pulse as you gag around the head a couple of times before your throat closes around it in swallowing motions. His mouth parts in a silent moan, eyes fighting to stay open as he feels the way your mouth suctions around him, sending him to heaven and back. He’s never seen anything so heavenly take on a lewd act like this – sin in your eyes, and sin in the way you moan in utter pleasure when you finally release his cock from the tight constraints of your throat, gasping for air as thick teardrops fall from your eyes all the way down your pretty face.

His thumb swipes them away. “You’re doing so well, baby. You’re so good, so fucking- mmm,” his praises are interrupted as you wrap your tongue around his tip, circling languidly as your eyes look up at him, pleading him to go on. “Feels so fucking good. You look so pretty with your mouth around my cock, angel.”

You moan, the vibrations making his hips buck and tighten his grip on your hair as you lower yourself on him all the way, repeating that same menacing action, only this time with more intention – determined to have him unravelling under you, milking his cock and taking him impossibly lower as you move your head in sharp little thrusts, accommodating him until your gag reflex is non-existent.

“Shit- don’t stop, don’t stop- you’re gonna make me cum, ___.” His head is thrown back, eyes tightly shut as he bites onto his lip with enough harshness to level him back into the moment, forcing him to look at you again. You’re a fucking sight to behold – that much his head can grasp in its hazy, fucked-out state. It confuses him slightly, how he can feel that tug in his heart whenever your eyes meet his and you hold his gaze, your pretty lips wrapped around his fat cock like the dream that you are. The way it makes his heart rate pick up until he can feel it travel to his stomach, the feeling lacing around the tight knot that forms there as he begins to tip over the edge.

That’s what makes him lose it – the total adoration he feels for you right this moment as you work his cock with your warm, wet tongue, reading him perfectly and complying. Completely surrendered to aiding his pleasure, his responsiveness only adding to yours. That insane need to feel you closer going beyond the physical as your connection deepens and he can feel it. He can see it in your eyes and he has no hints of a doubt you see it in his as you return that same adoration his gaze holds. His cock kicks against your tongue and he hisses out a moan, head falling to the side as he takes you in, mouth agape as that knot snaps inside of him.

“Baby, baby,” he warns, tapping his fingers gently on your cheek. You simply sigh, mouth full of him as you take him impossibly deeper. “Oh fuck. Ffuck- I’m cumming, I’m-”

You can feel the way his cock spurts string after string of his release, straight into your throat, cock twitching as you milk him – his moans only enticing you further as you swallow every last drop. Your tongue licks at his crown as you give his shaft languid pumps and his head falls forwards, mouth parted in awe as he rides the bliss you’ve just bestowed upon him. He’s absolutely wrecked but he doesn’t want you to stop – not even as his body cringes in oversensitivity and he’s whimpering, the hand in your hair tugging slightly as he pulls you away. He stares at you, intently.

“That was so good, baby. You’re so good,” he tells you, fingers caressing at your scalp.

“Koo,” you whisper, gasping slightly as he stands up, holding you by the arms as you follow and your knees give out once your feet touch the ground.

“Yes, baby?” His voice is low as he walks you backwards until your hands grip at his desk, one of his legs snaking between yours and pushing them apart until you’re sitting on top of the cold surface.

“I-I like to be good. For you,” your voice shakes, demeanour taking on a submissiveness that you find inevitable when he has you like this – legs trembling even though he hasn’t even touched you yet.

“Is that so, baby?” You nod. “I know you do. And you are,” he says.

“Y-yeah,” you sigh.

“And you know what?” He asks, fingers cupping around your face.

“W-what?”

“Good girls get rewards.”

You moan, audibly and loud, right in his face – lips parting as his grip around your jaw tightens. “Yes, please. I want you. I want you so bad,” you cry.

“Yeah, baby?”

“Yes.”

He brings your face closer to his, lips pressing against yours in a needy, sloppy kiss, tongue slipping inside your mouth and licking at your own as your teeth clink, heads leaning to the side. So wanting – so deeply surrendered to your impulses and the very root of your desires.

It lasts a good minute, the two of you bubbled up in your little world – the same one where boundaries come to die and slow takes on a new form. Where little exists besides you and him.

And the way it starts – slowly, tentatively – is not the same way it ends, as you’re abruptly taken out of the moment. The bubble bursting in a split second as both your phones ding repeatedly, the baby monitor notifying you Soori is in the early stages of waking up, signalling you have approximately three minutes to make it to the nursery before she’s fully awake.

“Fuck.” You say, hit with reality.

“It’s okay. I’ll go get her, don’t worry.” He reassures, his hand on your face taking on a softer touch.

“Okay. I’ll be right there in a minute.”

“Take your time,” he says before placing a soft peck to your cheek.

Slow is hell, yes. Even when it’s heavenly.

~

You do as he says and take your time in the bathroom. You comb through your hair, brush your teeth and even re-apply your mascara; you’d made a mess of it with his cock down your throat and the hefty splash of cold water you threw on your face as to calm down the buzz that still ran through your body.

The ache between your legs beats you, though. No idea on how to even begin to tame it down. At least not in an appropriate way.

You stare at the mirror – finally presentable from the outside but a whirlwind of chaotic sexual frustration on the inside that doesn’t really escape your eyes. You try to remember the breathing exercises feel-the-tingle-in-your-core lady has been trying to teach you for the past three days. They work – your heart rate finally calming down and breathing steading back to normal in inhale and exhale motions. You still feel the tingle in your core, though – and not the spiritual one.

When you finally make it out of the bathroom, the house feels eerily quiet and you assume Jungkook and Soori are in the kitchen. You fix your dress, taking a deep breath as you begin to make your way to them.

“Heeey,” Jungkook coos at Soori when you step into the kitchen. “Look who’s here, baby.”

Her big, round eyes are red and she sniffles back some crocodile tears, rubbing her little hands on her eyes.

“Hey, what’s wrong, princess?” You say, rounding the kitchen counter until you’re finally face to face with her.

“She woke up a little fussy. I think she had a nightmare.” Jungkook explains, lips smooching at her temple.

“Oh, no, baby girl. Do you want cuddles and Animal Planet?” You ask her and the soft of your voice is enough for her to fall straight into your arms. You hug her to you, gently swaying her from side to side when she nuzzles her head in your shoulder.

“I’ll be right there; I’m just heating up some noodles.” He tells you and you nod, making your way to the living room.

You get her nice and comfy, propping her up in the middle of the couch in her favourite pillow – the one she used to lay on when she was smaller, having now outgrown the habit as she becomes more mobile. She loves it nonetheless, though, and she lays on her side, face nuzzling against the plush fabric as she brings her pacifier to her mouth. Her fingers play with her little ears – something you notice she does to soothe herself.

You turn the Animal Planet on, relieved when you see today’s special is a documentary on sea turtles. Soori friendly – no lions devouring emus, as much as she seems to not mind it. You run your fingers over her silky hair and smile when she sighs at the feel of the comforting gesture.

Jungkook joins the two of you a minute later, sitting next to Soori as he watches the documentary intently – seemingly immersed in the importance to preserve the sea turtles. He slurps his noodles and you’re ashamed to admit the noise is doing you zero favours – everything just triggering that ball of tension in your gut.

“So,” he whispers when he’s sure Soori is fully engrossed in The Animal Planet. “Slow is hard.”

You scoff at the irony his sentence holds and Jungkook can tell you’re wind up. Not necessarily angry, just… frustrated.

“Yeah, you don’t say.” Is all you return, eyes still glued to the screen of the big TV.

“Are you… okay?” He asks and you hate how it immediately registers in your brain – what he’s referring to.

“Yeah, but can we please not talk about it?”

He doesn’t miss the way your thighs rub together for a second before you’re crossing your legs, breath picking up a notch. It sends a jolt straight to his gut and then south.

“I’m sorry, ___,” his voice sounds fallen and when you meet his gaze you notice his face is, too.

“It’s not your fault, Gguk. It’s okay. I just think that, maybe we should… figure this whole slow thing out because we seem to be awful at following whatever unspoken rule it entails.”

“Yes. Yes, I agree. That’s why I was thinking that maybe… we could go on a date.” His words are firm, like he just came up with the world’s brightest idea.

“A date?” Your voice gets that dreamy nature that characterizes you so well and, in that moment, he genuinely believes he has, in fact, come up with the world’s brightest idea.

“Yes. We said we wanted to get to know each other. I don’t think we’ve had much time to do that. And I want to do that – so, so badly, ___.”

“Me too.” You admit. “But I mean… how will that help? If anything, I think it’d just worsen our… situation regarding the slow.”

“I think that it’s a good step towards the right direction. Also, a good opportunity to actually take it slow – just enjoy each other’s companies. I like talking to you. I can do that for one evening, no problem.” You don’t miss the way his features soften, cheeks blushing at his sudden outburst of honesty.

You smile. “Okay, we can do that.”

“Why don’t you come over on Saturday? Soori goes down at 7. You can come over at 7:30 – I’ll cook.”

“Noodles?” You tease.

“Whatever you want, baby.”

“Done deal.”

~

Saturday rolls around faster than you’d expect considering the things we look forward to the most seem to be the furthest away. But, to your luck, this one breezes in – welcomed by none other than Elton John himself as he serenades you into wakefulness.

“Elton,” you say, still half asleep. “I’m going on a date today.”

You have a smile on your face, bringing the covers over you and cozying up in the warmth of your bed.

Your eyes snap open.

“Elton, I’m going on a date today.”

This time the statement takes on a less dreamy pitch. In fact, you sound straight up terrified. You can feel the butterflies take on their routine flight in your tummy – fluttering more erratically than usual.

The thing about Jungkook is that he has a way of making things feel so right. Your mind automatically eases itself around him better than with any failed attempt at meditating. When he says things, it’s always in such a reassuring manner – you used to think it was just the dad in him coming out. But in reality, you’ve realized he simply embodies confidence through and through.

When he suggested you two go on a date you didn’t hesitate once. And even though you tried to suppress it, you felt like a silly little schoolgirl at the prospect of seeing him in such context. On a date. Just the two of you.

It still feels right. So good. You’re excited, you are. But you also can’t help but feel nervous.

“Oh God, Elton. Help,” you don’t necessarily know why you’re asking for help but you’re also talking to Elton John, who keeps blasting Tiny Dancer through the speakers of your phone so, the cause was hopeless from the beginning. “Oh my God. What do I wear?”

You sulk for a minute longer in bed, finally deducting that the prior does no good.

It’s just a date.

In his home.

The one you’re highly familiar with.

It’s just Jungkook.

Fuck. It’s Jungkook.

You get out of bed, giving your head a little shake to finally wake your body up, deciding to finalize it with some coffee. You can smell it already – only a few steps away in your tiny, cozy kitchen, brewed by the heavenly hands of your loving best friend.

“Lucy Lu-” the sight before you cuts your song short as you yelp in surprise, definitely not expecting to see a shirtless Jimin behind your kitchen counter, coffee pot in hand.

“___!” He greets, shooting a big smile your way as he pours some coffee into your favourite jar, making you frown.

“Hi…,” you shouldn’t be surprised, he is dating your best friend after all. But you’re (secretly) dating his and this is all too close for comfort.

He’s talking but you’re not listening, too enthralled by your own train of thought. You only register his last words. “– Like Ggukie.”

“What.” It’s not a question.

“Um… your coffee? Iced Americano, right?”

“Oh. Yes. Yes. Thank you, you didn’t have to.” You say as you take the coffee from his hands, your favourite jar back in your possession.

“Headed to the library?” He asks, sipping on his warm cup of coffee.

“Yeah, in a little bit.”

“Was that Tiny Dancer I heard?”

“Yup. It’s better than Marimba.”

“You do have a point there,” he gives. “What are you doing later? Wanna catch a movie with us?”

You don’t lie.

You hate lying.

Not because you think lies will send you straight to hell the way your mom made you believe when you were growing up.

Simply because you do it so badly.

“No.”

“No?”

“I don’t want to catch a movie with you guys.”

“Oh,” Jimin is confused and it’s evident all over his face. You’ve never been anything but nice to him – in fact, at times it takes him by surprise just how nice you are.

“Yeah, sorry. I just hate the movies.” You add, because of course, why not make it worse with another awfully executed lie. Who hates the movies?

“Oh. Well, we can do something else? Maybe grab some dinner? Drinks? There’s this new pizza place Lucy has been wanting to try-”

“No, I’m… tired. From the week. I think I’ll have an early night tonight. Thank you for the offer though!” You slur the last of that sentence before you’re downing your coffee. Jimin winces, that’s definitely gonna kick in way too fast.

“No worries-”

“Gotta go get ready! Bye!”

You scurry the short steps back to your room, closing the door abruptly once you’re inside.

Jimin laughs.

He can’t help but wonder just why you would tell Elton John about your mysterious date tonight yet avoid telling him at all costs.

~

You and Jungkook’s front door have been through hell and back together. You can’t even begin to count the number of feelings your face has perfectly mirrored right in front of this very door.

Your eyes turn to the doorbell. You huff, laughing a little to yourself as you think of the first time you stood outside his home – in total awe, yet absolutely crucifying his use of top-notch technology on something so mundane like a doorbell.

You feel nervous. But you also feel so, so happy.

You don’t understand just why it’s taking you so long to press your finger into the screen and ring for him.

Because the anticipation is sweet, your heart tells you. Because you put on your favourite dress tonight – just for him. Because waiting the minute between ringing the doorbell and finally seeing him is going to be torture in the best way possible. Because you could write ten thousand poems on this moment alone.

You ring on the doorbell.

You let out a long exhale, swaying back and forth a little as you wait.

Your aforementioned prediction was wrong. It takes him much less than a minute to open his front door.

“Hi,” you tell him, voice sweet and an even sweeter smile following.

He doesn’t care that he’s probably acting a fool right now, just standing there – staring. He does it anyways. You look so beautiful. So soft and gentle. Your dress is silky, a pastel green colour that looks so good with the tan of your skin. It falls past your shoulders, tying at the middle of your chest. It’s a bit shorter than the ones he’s used to seeing you in and your duality hits him once again. Your hair cascades over your shoulders in soft curls – also a new sight for him.

He can’t help it when he speaks his mind.

“You are so beautiful.”

It’s not you look so beautiful in Jungkook’s book. No. You’re just beautiful and he wonders why he doesn’t greet you like this every day.

“So are you,” you tell him, a soft giggle passing your lips as you grow shy at his words.

His dress shirt is white and clean, but it takes on a more relaxed feel with the collarless fit and the soft blue of his jeans.

“Come in,” he says, stepping to the side as you walk inside his home. He notices you’re holding a knitted, yellow mesh bag. “What’s in there?”

“Oh!” You begin, excitedly. “I got Soori some books from the library. These are great to learn new words. And I got us dessert.”

“Thank you,” he presses a kiss against your lips, growing soft over the fact you still think about Soori, even when today is about you two.

“You’re welcome. Do you like peaches?”

“Yes, why?”

“Peaches and cream!” You say, bringing the bag closer to his line of vision as he makes out the plump shape of them.

“Don’t tell me you’re a fruit for dessert type of person.”

“Hey, they’re in season.” You argue, that pout he loves back on your lips. “Plus, don’t even start with me. You’re a cheese for dessert type of person.”

“What’s wrong with cheese for dessert?”

“I’d try to explain it to you but it’s a lost cause considering you’re also a lounge set type of person.”

He laughs, loud and airy, making your heart flutter at having that effect on him.

“I’m a sweet things for dessert type of person.”

“Yeah, yeah.” You joke as you follow his lead to the kitchen, hand in his. “It smells so good. What’s for dinner, Chef?”

He clears his throat. “Crispy honey orange glazed salmon.”

You gasp. “Oh me, oh my.”

“With my famous oven roasted rosemary potatoes,” he says, walking you closer to the oven so you can see them cooking. “Oh. And a kale and walnut salad.” He winks.

“Oh my God, you can actually cook.”

“It comes naturally,” he brags. “Well, that and a hidden passion for The Cooking Channel.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Yes, I do. Like me any less for it?”

You chuckle, walking closer to him. “Not one bit.”

Your kiss is soft, like your arms in his hands when they caress your skin. And for the first time since you’ve agreed on slow, Jungkook actually enjoys it. It makes something jump at his insides when he thinks about how it feels like tonight, he has all the time in the world with you.

“I thought we could eat outside? The weather’s so nice.”

“I’d love that.”

You help him plate the food – garnishing it a little the way Lucy has taught you and he gasps in surprise, genuinely paying attention as you ramble on about the wonders of little green leaves and how you like your food more when it’s photogenic.

“Please, stop reminding me you grew up with the internet,” he tells you, closing his eyes dramatically as you tell him about your secret food rating Instagram account.

“Do you like me any less for it?” You ask, mimicking his previous words.

“Not one bit,” he kisses you. “But stop reminding me.”

You laugh. “Let’s eat, dad. You’re lucky I don’t rate my friend’s foods – you’d be breaking under pressure right now.”

Even though he laughs at your remarks he doesn’t miss the way you say friends.

He doesn’t know exactly what feelings the word stirs inside of him but he finds himself pondering on it for a little longer than usual. Technically, he is your friend. It’s a twisted thought, all things considered, but he can’t really deny it.

Why does it make him feel slightly uneasy, then?

~

The set-up is simple but you don’t miss the romantic atmosphere that clouds upon the space.

Jungkook’s backyard is illuminated by dim, yellow lights. Besides the blue water of the pool that you can make out at the far end, not a lot picks up colour, enclosing the two of you in a comforting darkness. Two tall, white candles sit in the middle of the table – shining direct light onto the two of you, shadows dancing with the flames.

The food is delicious and the wine is rich with hints of sweet cherry and even though you’ve never gravitated towards red it slowly becomes your favourite – forever tied up to this memory.

“Why literature?”

Your answer comes without hesitation. “Why love?”

“Is all literature a work of love?”

“To some extent.”

“But some of it is about pain. Life. Loss. Anger.”

“All emotions romanticised in order to tell a story.”

He looks at you for a moment but you don’t shy away from his gaze once. He likes the courage you take on when you talk about the things you love.

“Do you write about me?”

That does it, eyes lost for a second before they fixate on the slow dancing flame of the candle in front of you.

“I do.”

“In what romanticised emotion?”

“All of them,” you sigh.

He smiles. “I wish I could write about you.”

“Why?”

“I think I’m understanding it now. The need to encapsulate memories in order to not forget them.”

“When a memory is good it never truly fades.”

“Yes, but when it feels like this you want to hold on to every last detail.”

“I’ll write about it. I’ll write enough words for the two of us.”

~

After dinner, you two take on different tasks to tidy up the kitchen as fast as possible. It’s nice, the conversation you had at the table never lost – just a more casual continuation of it.

Jungkook is funny, kind. At times he speaks with the wonder and softness of a weightless soul and your heart is still trying to digest that information – the notion that he is so lovable tugging at every last string.

“Wanna watch a movie as we eat your peaches and cream?” He asks, passing you a clean plate as you dry it with a towel.

“Keep up the attitude and I will eat them all.”

He chuckles. “What do you want to watch, baby?”

“Something scary.”

That takes him by surprise. “What?”

“Yeah!”

You begin reciting all of your favourite horror movies to him – a keen interest for the psychological thrillers.

“Ooh, ooh! Should we watch The Orphan? It’s about- no. I’m not telling you. I’ll ruin the whole thing,” you say.

He stares at you for a minute, slightly dumbfounded. “We can watch whatever you want.”

“The Orphan it is!”

~

Jungkook has never felt more on edge throughout a movie in his entire life.

And for someone who claims to love spooky movies (your words, not his) you sure do jump and shriek a whole lot through the majority of the film.

But, like a teenage boy, Jungkook enjoys how scared you get – taking advantage of it and wrapping you in his arms, keeping you safely tucked in his hold.

Your legs are thrown over his lap and your head rests on top of his chest and you’re all over. You’re all over and he loves it all. The way you smell and the way your voice resonates on his chest as you comment on the movie. The way your skin shivers when his hand moves mindlessly over your arm at times. It all feels so good to Jungkook. So right.

By the time the credits roll in, darkening the screen and the room, your bodies are tangled together. As the movie reached its climax, Jungkook’s body had fallen on top of yours, legs lacing around your own and head resting on top of your chest as your fingers ran through his scalp gently.

“That was wild. You watch this for fun?” He asks, body not moving an inch, completely melted under your touch.

You yawn, giggling a little at the way his words are muffled by the way his cheek presses on your chest. “Hey, you got really into it towards the end.”

“Yeah, because the orphan was a thirty-two-year-old, whack-out-of-her-mind loonie!” He looks up at you. “You sleepy?”

“A little. I should probably head home.”

“How are you getting home?”

“I’m taking the bus,” you tell him, fingers falling from his hair to his cheek.

“It’s late…,” his face softens. “You can always stay here.”

You pause for a second. “You sure?”

He is. Tonight proved a lot to Jungkook. New depths attached to his feelings that he slightly shies away from – the intensity throwing him aback. But nonetheless he gets a glimpse of them and at surface level. He enjoys them.

It also proved that you guys can be close without tempting slow in a dangerous way. I mean just look at the two of you – bodies lost in one another without crossing any lines.

“Yes, I’m sure.” He gives you a tender smile, his warmth leaving you as he gets up from the couch, hand outstretched for you to take. “Come on, let’s get you some warm clothes. We can watch The Cooking Channel to rub The loonie Orphan off.”

~

You stand in the middle of his closet, a bit overwhelmed by its grandness. You are shit at dimensions but you’re pretty sure it’s bigger than your room.

“How many black and white shirts can one person own?” You ask, eyes widening as he changes into sweatpants and an oversized white shirt.

“Just pick something already, baby.”

“You pick. And it’s okay if you want to give me your least favourite shirt – I’ve done that with my friends, too.”

There goes that word again.

He brushes it to the side, standing in front of the tall railings and rummaging through his clothes

“Here,” he says, passing you a soft, white hoodie and matching sweatpants.

“Thank- is this Balenciaga?”

“___, just put it on. Let’s go to bed.”

You oblige, discarding your dress and stepping into the sweatsuit, rolling the waistband a couple of times until they don’t fall around your hips, basking in the coziness of the oversized sweatshirt around your frame.

He stands in front of the sink, passing you an extra toothbrush and squeezing some toothpaste over the bristles before he does the same with his own.

You two just stand there, brushing your teeth and staring at each other on the reflection of the mirror, smiling quickly before both your eyes divert – suddenly shy at the intimacy of the action.

He’s done first, pressing his lips on your cheek before he exits the bathroom, letting you know he’s going to check on Soori one last time before bed.

Once you’re done, you rinse your mouth, staring at yourself in the mirror for a couple of seconds. If you let it, your mind will roam to faraway places, digging into every corner this moment holds. You don’t let it. Simply taking it for what it is and letting yourself enjoy it.

His bed is big and you don’t really know which one is his side so, a little dubious, you opt for simply sitting right in the middle of it, crossing your legs as you fidget with your fingers – waiting for him.

When Jungkook steps inside his bedroom, he makes a mental note to remember this sight.

He likes it a little too much, he realizes.

You smile at him when you see him and he returns it, walking towards the bed.

“Which is your side? Are you a one side of the bed person or an in the middle or a don’t really care-” you’re rambling, a tell-tale sign that lets Jungkook know that you’re nervous. He laughs, making you pout as you stop talking.

“Left side. You?”

You shrug. “I like the middle.”

His knees sink into the mattress as he walks himself closer to you.

“It’s all yours,” he says, coming to hover over you.

“T-thanks,” you look up at him, eyes meeting his.

“You’re welcome,” he tucks a strand of fallen hair behind your ear, his touch sweet. “You’re so pretty.”

“You’re really hot.”

Your honesty makes him laugh. “Is that all there is to me?” He teases.

You roll your eyes. “It’s not and you know it.”

His smirk is playful, contrasting the sweetness in his features. “You’re really hot, too.”

“Jungkook…”

“Tell me, baby.”

“I-I think we should play The Cooking Channel a-and go to bed n-now.”

He inches closer as you shuffle your body backwards slightly.

“Or what?”

“I’m not gonna want to stop.”

Out of every answer he could’ve expected the boldness of your choice of words falls far in the list. He raises one eyebrow at you, cocking his head to the side.

“I like you, ___. I like you so much.”

“I like you, too.”

“And I don’t want to stop either.”

Your hands fly to his stomach, fisting at the soft fabric of his shirt with force, pulling him towards you until he falls in between your legs, arms quickly holding his body from crashing against yours as they press on the mattress at either side of your head.

Once he’s got a steady hold on his body, he lowers his head to yours, lips finally finding your own – kissing you slowly and deep, savouring every stroke of your tongue as it finds his. Your fingers tangle on his dark locks, using the leverage to push him closer to you, every touch letting him know just how much you want him – how much you need him.

He pulls away, smiling a little at the way you whine when he does. His hands fly to the hem of his hoodie, pulling it up as you pull your arms over your head, making it easier for him to slide the fabric off of you. You’re not wearing a bra and it’s a pleasant surprise – one he doesn’t waste a second on as his lips close around your nipple, hand kneading at your other breast. Your back arches, a fistful of hair in your hold as you tug harshly, lost in pleasure. He hisses at the feeling, a deep groan following as he circles his tongue over the perk flesh.

Your hips raise from the bed, rutting into his as your desire begins to unravel further – a build up so slow until it snaps, bursting inside of you all at once, manifesting all through your body as it grows headier for him. He moans as your hips push into him once again, lowering his body to yours and pushing until you can feel every inch of him – legs spreading wider as you chase that friction, feeling his big cock thickening against your clothed pussy. You can feel his impressive girth and length even over the layers and the contact, paired with his incessant assault on your tits, has you moaning and squirming under him.

“Jungkook- please,” you beg, hazy minded.

He looks up at you, dark eyes meeting yours. “What do you want, baby? Tell me.”

“Y-you, please. Just- I need you.”

“You got me, baby.”

As soon as those words leave his mouth, his body begins to lower – lips attached to your skin as they travel from your chest, down your stomach that caves in at the feeling of his tongue as he trails a path of open-mouthed kisses until they finally reach just above the waistband of his sweatpants. His grin widens as he notices the scrunched-up fabric. You look down at him, wishing you could humour him yet too lost in how the sight of him between your legs like that will be engraved in your mind forever. You whimper – he looks so sinful, tongue running over his bottom lip as his eyes darken. Your hips buck involuntarily.

“Easy, angel.” He says, the timbre of his voice so deep it has you clenching around nothing.

You nod, lost for words as the anticipation builds up, making you grow excited as his fingers hook inside your pants. He brings your legs up as he comes to stand back on his knees, tugging at the fabric until they’re finally off and he’s discarding them, throwing them mindlessly to the side. Your legs are outstretched over his torso and his head turns to the side before he’s kissing your calves. Your chest flutters at the tenderness of the action, that gentleness never leaving him.

His hands run down the back of your thighs, sending goosebumps all through your body as you fidget under his touch, a faint whimper falling past your lips. He places your legs back on the bed gently, feet pressing on the mattress as your thighs fall open instinctively. He stares at you and there’s something in his gaze you’ve never seen before – a hunger that intimidates you, making you shy away from his darkening eyes, closing your legs quickly.

“Why do you hide, baby?” His hands rest on your knees, thumb running over them softly.

“I’m- embarrassed,” you say timidly.

“Why?”

“I-I’m so wet.”

“Oh, baby.”

He doesn’t miss another beat as his hands work your legs open, falling back to the bed on his stomach when you comply. You’re wearing a pair of silky white panties and once he comes face to face with your covered mound, he can see the wet patch that adorns the middle. He bites his lip, running a knuckle over it tentatively, pressing softly on your clit. He’s pleased when you squirm, hips circling under his touch, the prettiest moan escaping your lips.

“Let me fix it,” he says, looking at you.

You nod, carding your fingers through his hair, tugging on it a little as the air grows thick around you. Your panties follow the same fate as the rest of your clothes, joining the pile somewhere on his floor.

Jungkook moans. He moans when your legs open up for him, pussy in full display – lips plump and glistening from your build up arousal. His lips press over your slit in a soft but firm kiss that escalates as his tongue comes past it and licks a wet stripe right over your entrance all the way up to your clit, parting your folds open for him.

“Oh my God,” you cry, hands flying up, fist closing around the pillows.

You taste so fucking sweet on his tongue, your juices already dripping down his chin as his lips close around your clit, sucking on it until your legs are closing around his head and your hips are rutting against his face. He pulls away, a lewd sound resonating past his lips as your little nub throbs at the loss of his mouth. He parts your legs further, giving you a warning look as he does so. He settles back down between your legs, making you yelp as his tongue teases your entrance, pressing further with every lick between your folds.

“You’re so sweet, taste so fucking good,” he says, mouth never leaving your cunt.

“A sweet things for dessert type of guy, huh?” You muster one final ounce of wittiness before the feeling of his middle finger sinking into you has you crying out in pleasure.

“The sweetest fucking thing.” The sound of his voice right against your pussy mixed with the squelching as he attacks your heat doubles as pornographic, and has your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

He adds a second finger after a couple of pumps, mercilessly sucking on your clit – your walls swallowing his digits further with every stroke of that spot inside of you that has you dangerously close to the edge.

His fingers slide out of you, coming up to spread your pussy open for him until he can see your clit pulsing, swollen and exposed for him. You whine when he softly blows over it, the feeling so intense you’re afraid it’ll have you cumming in a second if he keeps it up. But Jungkook shows mercy – lowering his head and closing his lips perfectly around your engorged clit. You can feel it so much more intensely, every quick suck as he keeps your folds parted, giving him better access to that bundle of nerves.

“Oh- oh my fucking God. I’m gonna cum- fuck, don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop-”

You’re a mess, feeling delirious as you feel your body tensing at the wake of your orgasm.

“Do it, baby. Cum all over my tongue,” he coaxes, shoving two fingers inside of you as he wastes no time hooking up and pressing them against your g-spot as he feels your walls fluttering around them. “Cum all around my fingers.”

Your eyes snap wide open at the sudden intrusion and it’s about a second later that your orgasm spreads all through you in waves – pleasure settling in different parts of your body as you shake, pussy closing around his fingers in fast little pulses, so intensely he can feel it against his tongue. His movements never stop, pace only picking up as you cum, hard and loud.

“T-too much,” you say, body twitching as you begin to come down.

His body settles back between your legs, hands softly cupping your cheek as your body finally relaxes, falling into that post orgasmic bliss. He kisses you – slow and sweet, adding to the overall high that takes over you. You feel so good – every inch of your skin tingles slightly, mind still cloudy from the pleasure.

“Jungkook,” you purr and he hums against your mouth. “Fuck me. Please.”

“Fuck, baby. Those dirty words don’t match that pretty face,” he says, face falling to the crook of your neck as he breathes heavily.

There are many things Jungkook wants to do to you right now. About a thousand different ways he’d take you – especially when you sound so compliant, totally surrendered to him. But right now, he just wants you close. He wants to feel your body under him, to be able to run his hands all over it as he elicits those pretty sounds from your lips. He wants to be able to swallow them all.

“I’ll give you whatever you want,” he hums against your lips.

“Off,” you say, tugging at the hem of his shirt.

His body comes up, weight resting back on his feet as he takes his shirt off. He looks so soft like this – so dreamy. You don’t miss the way his demeanour changes, how that smirk turns into a lazy smile as he runs his hand down your leg until it lands back on your cunt. He fucks two of his fingers into you, the action has more intention this time as he scissors them inside of you, spreading your walls open for his cock. He bites his lip as he watches your face contort in pleasure, his dick jerking inside its restraints in anticipation.

He pecks your lips as his fingers slide out of you, crawling towards the edge of the bed as he comes to a stand. Your arm stretches in his direction, missing him already, pout forming at your lips as you beckon for him.

He chuckles softly as he bends over, rummaging through the second drawer on his nighstand. He stands back up, closing it with his knee as he throws a single foil packet and a bottle of lube on the bed.

You reach for both, your fingers playing with the condom wrapper as your eyes never leave him – watching intently as his fingers hook on the waistband of his sweats, pulling them down alongside his black Calvin’s, promptly kicking them out of the way before he’s crawling back to you.

He finds that spot back between your legs again, eyes locking with yours before he’s kissing you. You lean your head to the side, happy with how familiar you’ve grown with the rhythm of his lips. It’s intoxicating – the way it feels. So addictive as you push your tongue past his lips, running it over the back of his teeth, biting on his lip, sucking on his tongue. You’re greedy – needing to feel around him all.

He pulls away, settling back on his legs as he reaches for the bottle of lube, lathering some down the length of his middle and ring finger before he’s pushing them inside of you once again.

He presses on that spot, particularly sensitive after your previous orgasm and you hiss, hand closing around his wrist. “Stop, stop. You’re gonna make me cum again.”

“What’s so wrong with that?” His lips tug at the side of his mouth in a loopy grin.

“I want to cum around your big cock, Jungkook.”

“Fuck,” he presses on your spot again, “I love your filthy little mouth.”

You moan, eyes closing shut as you frantically pat on the bed at your side, looking for the condom you’d discarded on the sheets. Once you finally find it, you bring it to your mouth, pressing down on the round shape of the latex as you tear it open with your teeth.

“C’mere,” you purr and his body falls on top of yours once again, fingers still thrusting in and out of you slowly.

He whimpers when your small hand wraps around his cock, eyes falling to take in the sight. You pump at his shaft languidly with one hand, collecting his precum and spreading it around his length before your other one lowers, rolling the condom on, pinching at the tip slightly as you secure the latex around his base. He reaches for the bottle of lube once again, popping it open with his teeth before he lathers a generous amount onto his cock and down your slit, spreading it with his fingers. You’re so wet it’s starting to feel uncomfortable, but you know you’re going to need all the help you can get as your snug walls accommodate to his size.

His body lowers to yours, legs opening your own further apart as he lines his cock over your entrance.

“Ready, angel?”

You nod, arms snaking around his waist. “Go slow,”

“I will, baby.”

He kisses you one last time, lips hovering above yours as he begins to sink the head of his cock inside of you. You wince against his lips, the burn spreading all through your core as you take the first couple of inches. His thumb circles around your clit, easing the tension that builds around your body, helping you relax around him.

“You’re s-so big, Koo.” Your voice is a faint whisper that gets lost in between soft mewls.

“You’re doing so good, baby. So fucking good for me.” His voice is soft but strained and you can tell it’s taking all the strength in him not to ram into your tight cut as your walls swallow him in with every inch he sinks into you.

He’s so thick and you feel so full, arms tightening around his waist and toes curling at the sharp pain of having him fully inside of you as he bottoms out.

“Oh, f-fuck. You feel so good around me, fuck.” He praises, lips pressed to your cheek as his breath quickens.

You kiss him, hips raising up after a while to meet his and he hisses into your mouth at the feeling, pulling out slowly only to thrust back into you as he begins to spread you open with his cock with every push and pull. The pain starts to dance around with pleasure as his pace picks up, both your moans getting lost in one another’s as his forehead presses onto yours – face to face with every single expression and every little sound his thrusts emit out of you.

“I l-love your cock. I love your cock s-so much, Jungkook. Fuck- God,” your words drag out, pausing every time you feel him impossibly deep, his tip hitting against that spot perfectly and you moan out his name every time his cock pistons into you, pressing against it.

Your little pussy is so wet and warm – only getting tighter the more Jungkook fucks you open and it dawns upon him in that very moment that he’s officially tasted you, has you in a way that will make it very difficult not to crave you constantly. Want you, always.

“Ffuck, baby. Mine. This pussy was made for me.”

His words make you free-fall right into your second orgasm of the night – ripping inside of you so suddenly and with such ferocity it has the both of you gasping. Your mouth parts in a silent moan, throwing your head back in utter pleasure. He groans as he feels the way your fingernails press on the warm skin of his back, the sharp pain trailing all the way down until your hands land on his ass, pressing him deeper into you.

“Fuck, what was that-” He hisses in total disbelief, so lost in your pleasure. You clench around him once more as he sinks deep into you. “F-fuck I’m gonna cum, baby. You’re gonna make me cum.”

“Cum for me, please. Please.”

Your eyes are glazed over, tears falling from the corners as you look up at him. He loves how receptive you are – how pleasure takes on every part of you. He loves how your face mirrors exactly what he’s doing to you and he loves the little whimpers that fall in between your words when you’re begging for him. When you speak your mind – filthy little words coming past your red lips, so swollen from your teeth and his sinking into them.

You watch him, fighting with your heavy eyes to stay open as his face scrunches up in pleasure and a raspy moan leaves his lips, breaths coming out in frantic little puffs as he rides the waves of his orgasm and spills into the condom – so much fucking cum you swear you can feel it.

“Oh my God,” he speaks against your neck, the vibrations sending shivers down your body.

Your fingers play with the soft hairs at the back of his neck, your other hand running lazily over his back as his body grows limp on top of yours. He feels heavy but you don’t mind it, enjoying his warmth – wanting nothing more than to have him this close for as long as you can.

You smile, listening to the little sounds he makes as his body relaxes and sleep begins to tempt him. He’s so warm, so soft as he lets you hold him like this. It almost feels like his two bare hands were taking a hold of your heart, cradling it ever so tenderly and squeezing it all at the same time.

He’s still inside of you and he knows it’s only a matter of seconds before he’s going to have to pull away. So, he lets himself enjoy whatever eternity those seconds hold, nuzzling his face on the crook of your neck – lips right against it and all it takes is a soft pout for them to press on the soft skin.

He feels safe in your arms.

It’s then that you realize that all this time you were separating two things that walked hand in hand, together.

Jeon Jungkook is peace.

And you welcome it.

~

what just happened lol? i’m fucking screaming. I truly hope u enjoyed!!!!!!!!! pls they’re falling in love right under our noses. in this country home of sex n love n magic. do let me know what u think bc i love loving on u guys back <3333333 thank u for making it this far w me! it means the world <3

~

★taglist★

Songs and poems – black and white movies. They all do a beautiful job at portraying something you always found a bit silly, as much of a romantic as you are. They fixate on this idea that the world seems rosier when you’re falling in love – that you see things in a different light. Take in the world in a different way. That one day you feel love and the next you wake up and your commute to work is brighter; friendly faces and fresh flowers everywhere. They make us believe that love is the door that opens our eyes to the wonders of the world. And as unbelievable as it seems… you can’t deny it.

You see it.

You feel it.

You lay in the grass after a Sunday stroll with Lucy that ended up turning into a picnic. She’s singing along to some love song, swaying her head from side to side as she hums – something about the world ending and no other way that I can spend it. You’re about to full on judge her for playing Justin Bieber but an absentminded smile tugs at her lips and the sight alone is sweet – not to mention the fact that you know exactly which smile put that one on her face.

You smile, too.

You’re not too far off. You look up at the sky again. So far, you’ve made up five shapes in the sea of endless clouds above you. The very abstract outline of a strawberry. A dove – yeah, it’s missing a wing but it’s a dove alright. Two blurry faces leaning against one another, one a bit taller than the other. A croissant. And last but not least, an angel. It’s still up there – face formed by faint specks of white cloud, a perfect halo on top and big wings at his sides.

You try to look for your strawberry, only the shape now resembles a liver more than anything. You wince – it’s love.

You feel it in every song, in the cup of coffee you had this morning. In the yellow dress you’re wearing – the same one you wore the first day you met him. You smile, having had no idea of just what you were getting yourself into back then. Remembering just how much of a mistake it all felt like when you sat there, opposite him, as he teared apart at your every ounce of confidence. He was right – mistakes can be…

“What’s all the grinning for?” Lucy’s voice breaks you out of your pensive state.

The best thing to ever happen to you.

“Him.” you reply, simply. “You?” you roll over to your side to face her, head resting against your arm.

“My him.” She giggles. “What exactly, though? Still digesting yesterday?”

You shake your head. “No. Or yes. I don’t know. Maybe…”

“It’s good, ___. I think what he did was very brave.” She says.

You nod your head, that soft smile back where he left it. “Me too. I don’t think I’m over thinking it. It’s just that…”

“You can’t stop thinking about it.” Her grin is mischievous, knowing.

You roll back, the grass feels cooling against your arms. “Yeah,” you sigh, a bit more dreamily than intended.

The silence is comfortable and you welcome it as you both lean against the tall book shelf in your impromptu seating position on the floor. You stretch your legs in front of you, fumbling a bit with the rings on your fingers and he taps his feet repeatedly in a slow motion – eyes fixated on them.

“So… good mistake or bad mistake?” You say, breaking the ice that feels everything but cold.

Jungkook smiles to himself. No trace of a mistake roaming around in his mind. Just you and your lips against his.

“Good. Just good.”

“Good.” You bite your lip, unsuccessfully holding back a smile. “What now?”

Jungkook waits for the nerves to hit – the regret. But it doesn’t come.

“I guess… I mean, fuck. There are so many things that I still have to… heal from, or whatever my therapist says. I don’t- I would never want to lay that on you, though.”

You nod, taking his words in. A bit surprised at his sudden ability to communicate.

He grabs your hand in his, squeezing it lightly. “But… you. I don’t want to run from you anymore.”

You turn to him, giving him a tender smile. “I don’t want you to run from me either. We can take it slow… there’s no rush. I want to know you- really know you. At whatever pace you set.”

“I want to know you, too.” You shy at his words, gaze looking down at where your hands entwine. “We can… ease into it. I mean, I still have to get over the fact I’m five years your senior.”

You try with all your might but you break, snorting at his words, trying to keep your laughter at a library-friendly volume.

“What’s so funny?” He asks, voice serious but a grin forming at his lips, too.

“Sorry, sorry. That is- preposterous, sir.” You tease, “only add like… fifteen years to that and you could be my father.” You feign shock.

His hand comes up to your face, covering your mouth with his hand as he tries to control his own laughter. “Please don’t say that.”

You laugh. “Sorry, sorry.” He can feel you pouting against his palm. “Jungkook,”

“Yes?”

“I- I can’t wait. To know you, I mean.”

His fingers lace around yours once again, a soft, genuine smile when he says, “Neither can I.”

~

The aroma of fresh coffee fills the air and complemented with the bright sunlight coming through the big window it adds to the overall heavenly atmosphere the morning holds. It’s a Monday and you’ve never felt keener to get out of bed and kickstart the week.

And yes, your commute to work was brighter and filled with friendly faces. Fresh flowers, too. In fact, they sit on top of the kitchen counter – three pretty sunflowers, tall and proud. You always did think the sleek, white space was in need of some oomph – key word for: love. So, you took the liberty. Mrs. Chae held them as if they were a newborn baby, excitedly placing them in a vase with some fresh water.

In front of you, is your breakfast masterpiece – a bright smoothie bowl for Soori who has taken on a passion for, well, all sorts of fruits. You place the neatly cut wedges on top, adding some granola to it. And Cheerio’s. A bit of an odd combination, yes, but the kid loves her Cheerio’s. You cut the strawberries into a heart shape, just like Lucy taught you that one time you were helping her garnish a fruit tart. Everything is more interesting for Soori if it takes on a fun shape and you easily comply – testing your creativity to make life just that more fun for her.

Right on queue with your train of thought, you hear her distant baby babble that grows louder and louder the closer she gets to the kitchen. Your gaze snaps to the direction of the entrance, excited to see her.

Jungkook comes into view – body slightly bent over and waddling a bit before his own gaze comes up, eyes landing on yours as he gives you a warm smile. You return it, frowning slightly when you realize there’s no Soori in his arms, even though you can hear her. He giggles softly, looking down, a proud look to his face. You round the kitchen counter, hands coming to cover your mouth when you see her. Her tiny fists hold onto Jungkook’s middle and index fingers, her short little legs moving rapidly in-between jumps and steps. She’s wearing pink Carhartt overalls with a white baby tee underneath. The tiniest pair of Chuck Taylor’s you’ve ever seen on her speedy feet.

“Oh my Goodness! Look at you, Soo.” You fall to your knees and she shrieks once you come into eyesight, walking towards you excitedly with the help of her dad who still holds her by her tiny hands. Once she’s in your arms, he lets go. You hold her to you, wrapping her in a hug, kissing her chubby cheeks. “That was so good, princess. You did so good!” You coo and she giggles, open mouth returning your kisses – a sloppy slobber all over your face but you don’t care.

“Pretty cool, huh?” Jungkook says, looking down at the two of you, his heartbeat picking pace slightly at the sight. “Yesterday she stood all by herself for 3.7 seconds.”

“What? No way, Soo.” Your baby voice is on and she jumps in your arms. You pull her closer to you. “That’s amazing, bub. You’re going so fast. Too fast,” you pout, surprised by how much you’ve seen her grow in such a small amount of time.

Soori’s hands come to rest at either side of your face – Jungkook thinks about how much it resembles the way he holds her before he showers her with kisses. She’s starting to mimic everything he does and when she leans her face forward and leaves another set of open mouth kisses against your nose his chest flutters – a feeling he can’t quite explain. All he knows is that it feels so light. So right.

“Good morning,” he says finally as you get up from your kneeling position on the floor, Soori in your arms as you place her on the crook of your hip.

“Morning,” you return, a smile forming at your lips at the sight of his. You let yourself get lost in his face, because you can. He looks so ethereal in the mornings. You notice he’s not wearing his usual dress shirt and slacks, having opted for a much more casual look in blue jeans and a flowy blue shirt, the first three buttons tentatively open, exposing his tan skin. “Is it spirit day at the office?”

He scoffs at your teasing, playfully rolling his eyes. “No. Not going to the office today, actually. Well- technically I am. I have to go oversee some renovations at the hotel.”

“Oh…”

“It’s in a location by the river. My parents are actually there at the moment. Staycation and whatnot. So, I’m bringing Soori with. And you.”

Jungkook sees Mrs. Chae’s eyes widen at his words – specially the last ones. He walked right into that one though, he’ll admit that much. He clears his throat before he adds, “as in, you know- Soori. For Soori. If you don’t mind.”

You chuckle slightly, biting at your tongue. “Of course. Let’s fill her tummy and we can go.”

He nods, not missing the glint in your eyes and your playful smile before you turn around.

You’re wearing a pretty white dress, the fabric hugging your waist perfectly before flowing at the bottom. Just like Soori, you’re wearing a pair of white Converse. He walks himself right into that dreamy thought, too. Only this one he did purposely.

It’s going to be a long day.

And for the first time in a long time, he looks forward to it.

~

Jungkook and you divide the task of getting Soori strapped into her car seat – you keep her distracted by letting her fidget with your fingers and he works the harness around her chest and tummy, pulling on it until he’s sure she’s safely tucked in.

“Hey, you’re so good, baby.” He coos at her, pride swelling in his chest at her mellow behaviour. She smiles, holding at his finger and pulling him closer. She has a tight grip on yours too.

Jungkook smacks his lips against Soori’s cheeks, earning himself a giddy giggle from her. She scrunches her little nose when he kisses down her neck, tickling her. She tries to push him away, never once letting go of her hold on your fingers, bringing your hand to Jungkook’s face as her loud snickers fill the car. They’re contagious and soon enough, the three of you are laughing.

“Does Soori have tickles?” You ask her, free hand coming to poke at her sides as she jumps and screeches at the feeling.

“She’s so ticklish.” He says, coming up for air for about a second before he dives right back in, nuzzling his face in the crook of her neck. She kicks and screams, full-on cackling now and you can tell that it’s not gonna be too long until she gets fed up. Her hand comes up to either side of Jungkook’s head and you tug at his hair slightly. “Hey, hey. That’s enough. She’s going to run out of smiles and then what do we do.”

Jungkook laughs, heart wrenching at your sweet voice that you reserve just for her – liking how you use it on him, too. “Never,” he says, landing one final kiss on top of her head before he straightens his body. You settle into the seat next to Soori and he frowns, saying, “what are you doing?”

“What do you mean,” you return, confusion in your words.

He bites back a chuckle, a grin adorning his face. “Come sit at the front with me.” It’s more a statement than it is a question and he sees you hesitate, eyes zeroing down on Soori’s hand around your fingers and then back to him. “She’ll be fine, come on.”

You hesitate for yet another second before you’re exiting the backseat of his sleek car, making your way to the passenger’s seat. You both get in at the same time and you watch as he gets comfortable, starting the engine and maneuvering the steering wheel as his free hand flies behind your headrest, body twisting slightly as you exit the parking space. Soori whines in the backseat, something awfully close to Da before she breaks out in unintelligible babble. When he glances at her she’s looking at you, small face scrunched up in disappointment.

“Hey, you. We can share, okay? Let daddy have her for a minute?” Soori diverts her eyes, gaze already focused on whatever is going on outside the window, bringing her pacifier back to her mouth and suckling on it.

You giggle. “She’s growing at speed lighting. She’s full on trying to talk now. And walk!”

“I know. We already made a made a pact though – she’s not allowed to do either when I’m away at work.”

“I imagined she agreed to it right away?” You tease.

“Of course. She’s loyal like that.” He looks in the rear-view mirror, smiles when he sees her eyes on him. He turns to you, “how are you feeling?”

“Good. Very good.” You say, a bit sheepishly. “You?”

“Me too,” a lopsided grin forms on his lips and the sight has you weak at the knees.

“Did Taehyung pick up on it?”

He turns to you for a second, a look on his face that says what do you think. “Did Lucy pick up on it?”

“Touché,” you say, “is that… bad?”

“No. They might tease me a bit but they wouldn’t do anything to make me feel uncomfortable before I’m ready to talk about it. Taehyung and Jimin, though… they just have a sixth sense for that stuff. So, it’s hard to keep it a secret.”

“So, we’re a secret?”

He looks at you briefly, an apologetic look to his face. “Does that bother you?”

You smile, reaching for his hand that rests on his thigh. “No. I think it’s the smartest thing to do. At least until we… figure us out, I guess. I am your nanny after all.”

“Nope. You’re her nanny,” he says, motioning to Soori. “You two can talk business later.”

You laugh, playfully swatting his leg. Before you can move away, he’s locking your hands in his hold – intwining your fingers together. It’s all so overwhelmingly good. The lightness to his mood, the witty jokes, that relaxed expression taking over his face. His hand on yours – finally. You missed it, the feel of his skin. The butterflies it sends to your tummy, the warmth it radiates. You could give up on a steady heart rate any day if it meant experiencing the euphoric feeling of having him close.

“Jokes aside,” he starts, “I wouldn’t want her to… lose you.” His face falls, so evidently that you don’t miss it. You can feel it – the way his head is being swarmed by intrusive thoughts right now. Full of bad news. Uncertainty. Fear.

You squeeze his hand. “I know we have a long way to go of… figuring things out. But she’s important to me, too, and I wouldn’t jeopardize that either. I wouldn’t take that leap if I… if I wasn’t sure. About you. About wanting to try. And getting to know you.”

He only nods. His silence makes you feel uneasy, like maybe you pushed too far, said something that would put him in a compromising position. You know his walls are high and even though the full story is still unknown to you, the pieces you do have form a painful puzzle.

So, you don’t say anything – giving him enough space to process things in his own time. Understanding that trust is a tricky thing when broken. Like a mirror, it reflects on everything that stands its way – morphing our own truths, making us feel unbelieving, undeserving.

And as much as you want to pour all the love that brews inside of you onto him at once – to have him know he’s got you; you figure the best thing you can do is to not aid that reflection further by imposing your own fears onto it. Fear doesn’t cancel out fear but understanding does.

Understanding, you conclude, can sometimes be stronger than love.

~

Growing up, you were always in a constant state of praise. From your teachers, your parents – hell, even your friends. There was something so captivating to the people around you about how collected you were, how dedicated and applied. Back then, of course, your world was smaller and your priorities didn’t go as far as making sure you excelled in school, volunteered at your local church to put a smile on your mom’s face and be someone your small group of friends could rely on.

So, needless to say, self-control was easy. You used to believe promiscuity was simply a side effect of hormonal angst and not having enough to do. Thankfully, you were exempted. Not from the hormonal angst, no. In fact, sex was always something you felt drawn to in literature and art. But as for not having enough to do, that just wasn’t your case.

And even when a lot of these beliefs went away along with your naivety you still remained somewhat good at keeping desire cool, calm and collected.

But you’re only human.

And only so strong.

You feel like the universe is playing a silly little number on you now – making you pay for whatever twisted wave of superiority you rode as a teenager. It was probably induced by spending too much time volunteering at the church and cringing at the descriptive way in which your heart and road to heaven would be corrupted by having pre-marital sex, courtesy of the nun that taught your bible study group.

Your body shudders, cringing at the memory alone.

Your eyes divert to said silly little number – sporting that perfectly fashionable baby carrier of his, a sleeping Soori flushed to his chest, as he talks business. And you’re speaking business. Casually blurting out numbers that don’t make mathematical sense to you because how does money even work? Correction: how does money even work like that?

He walks alongside the architect as they review plans, numbers, paperwork, strategy – you name it, Jungkook seems to have the lead on everything. It takes you by surprise when he takes a hold of the pencil and tweaks at the paper plan, adding to the perfect drawing of what will be the new rest & relaxation space. In simpler words, a spa. With all the luxury amenities, in perfect tune with the whole essence of the hotel.

The hotel alone surprises you, not having expected the paradisical feel to it. It felt like a small oasis, only twenty minutes away from the city, surrounded by so much green and crisp, fresh air. You’d passed by The West End multiple times, the one in the city, that is. A tall, glass building that spewed modernity and money just by being in its close vicinity. This West End though, as luxurious and modern as it was, had a more relaxed feel to it.

Jungkook seems to be exceptionally involved with this one, that usual passion he carries about his business soaring just a tad higher. To you, it feels like this one in particular hits close to home and you wonder why. He gets visibly excited when the architect retrieves his iPad, showing him a colourful digital visual of what’s to be the final outcome. Soori fidgets slightly in the carrier and he puts a hand to her face, caressing gently in a soothing manner, making sure his voice goes back to its normal pitch. She’s full-on teething now and her discomfort is painful to watch, especially for Jungkook. So, when nap time came and she wanted nothing more than to be held by her father it came as a no-brainer to him – always taking advantage of whatever time he can have with her during the week.

And this right here is just why you think the universe is playing games with you. Torturous, evil games. Because no, that goody-two-shoes behaviour didn’t last a month in university. You, of course, not only matured and fell victim to the freshman fifteen but also navigated through your sexual awakening in a, needless to say, healthy manner.

But Jeon Jungkook is hormonal angst mixed with three out of the seven deadly sins and you have no desire to repent.

If the pull that draws you to him was only physical then you’d make do. Brave it like a good girl and impose that self-control that carried you through your innocence. But the tension that builds in your body for him happens to go slightly beyond just the physical.

It’s his mind, too. That big brain of his, oozing intellect left and right – how effortlessly it comes to him to lead, persuade and gain people’s trust. How everyone that works for him respects him for all the good reasons, as opposed to fear. How he puts his all in whatever it is he does, perfecting it until his interest wears off and then he moves on onto the next big thing – never ceasing his ability to learn and grasp new concepts. You think his mind is exceptional and that just makes him all the hotter.

His humour and light-hearted ways are one hell of a magnet as well. The witty banter and sharp comebacks, funny without ever being mean. The way no matter what his titles are, to his friends he will forever be the youngest one – their Ggukie. And how he lets them, basking on it, welcoming the love and letting himself be babied. You like the way he can’t help but get giddy when something really cool catches his eye – how even though he’s seen a lot, he never acts like he’s seen it all, letting himself still be surprised by the world around him.

And last but not least – how good of a dad he is. How out of all his titles and duties, that one seemed to be the one he carries with the most pride.

“So, what now, darling?” Your dad said.

You’d barely had enough time to remove your cap and gown, finding a comfortable position in the booth at the diner.

“Well,” you hesitate for a moment, trying to find the right words. “I quit my job at the bar.”

“Oh, honey. That is great news. That was no place for a young lady,” your mother adds, relief filling her face. You appreciate her concern.

“That is good, ___. It was only holding you back. What other offers do you have lined up?” Your father presses, curious and, frankly speaking, gullible.

“Well, dad- it’s not that easy.”

“Of course it’s not! Finding a job is a job of its own, ___. When I was your age I walked the streets tirelessly, paper in hand, circling every single option, talking to anyone that was willing to listen about my qualifications-”

“Dad.” He finally stops, looking at you, “I think that’s very admirable but, in this day and age we use Linkdn and no one is really willing to listen. You think you know rejection until a faceless HR worker ghosts you.”

“I understood two things from what you just told me but, nonetheless, darling, the value of good, honest work never goes unappreciated.”

You contemplate his words for a second. “I was thinking about volunteering at the library… we just passed it actually. It’s a book club for little kids.”

Your mom beams at your words, always one to encourage any sort of helping hand. Your dad, on the other hand, looks a bit crestfallen at the thought.

“You know, honey,” your mom takes it upon herself to break the heavy silence that falls around the table, “when you were a little girl you loved playing with dolls. You’d dress them in your old baby clothes and even made me get you real diapers for them! You went on to become a scholar, a bright young woman but… I always did think that you’d come into this world to be a mother.”

You know she doesn’t mean for her words to hit you in the gut like a clean punch but they do. Not because you didn’t share said dream but because you didn’t believe it was your only one. You didn’t think you’d have to sacrifice your talent and brains to be the very first thing you wanted to be when the world was four walls and an endless array of dolls: a mom.

“You’re a good dad.” You tell him, when it’s just the two of you and Soori, who has just begun to stir awake, once again.

He looks at you, surprised by how flustered your words find him. “Thank you. I try…” he replies, voice laced with honesty as he lets out a sigh.

“And a good hotel owner… person.”

He laughs at this, head falling back on his shoulders. “Thank you. Where is this coming from?”

“I don’t know,” your gaze lands on the tall trees as you walk a narrow walkway back to the main lobby. You wish you could hold his hand. “I like seeing you… in action.”

“Yeah?” You only nod and he doesn’t miss the faint rosy tint that creeps up on your cheeks. “I thought you’d find it boring.”

“There is very little in this world I find actually boring.”

“I like that about you.”

God there it is. The gentleness of his soul. The butterflies that set flight once again, having never truly left.

You let yourself stare at him, a liberty that makes the sight of him all that more enticing. He stares back, a desire tugging in his chest to either tell you just how much he likes not just that about you but also the way you always speak your mind and hold his gaze so intensely he can sometimes even read it. Or just kiss you. His mind holds the debate, eyes traveling to your lips as he surrenders into the temptation. He’s just about to lean in when a higher force settles it for him.

“Darling!” You both turn around, slightly shaken as you’re met with the sight of none other than his mother.

“Hey, mom. How are you?” He says, walking towards her.

“I’m good, I’m good. Let me see her!” She’s excited and that’s all Soori needs to fall into her arms as soon as she’s freed from the coziness of the baby carrier and Jungkook’s chest. “Oh, look at those teeth. She looks just like you. Well, she’s prettier- no offense, honey.”

“Non-taken and agreed.”

“___, it’s good to see you again.”

“You too, Mrs. Jeon. I like your hat.” Jungkook can’t help the smirk that tugs at his lips as his mother is taken aback by your compliment. His hand flies to his mouth to cover the impending chuckles that threaten to come out of it.

“Thank you.” She replies, her voice slightly confused but he can tell she’s flattered by the look on her face. “Your father’s at the restaurant waiting. Your meeting took too long, darling. You know he doesn’t like to wait. Let’s join him, shall we?”

She doesn’t necessarily wait for a reply from either of you, promptly turning around and heading to the direction of the restaurant. Soori’s in her arms and from a distance you can see how her eyes widen as her grandma speaks to her as she would a friend. ‘It is almost your birthday. I have no idea what to get you! What are you into these days? I hope you didn’t inherit that god-awful habit your father had back in the day of putting everything in his mouth. It turned just about everything into a choking hazard. What’s your favourite colour? Why don’t I ever see you in a dress…’

You can’t help but snort, a closed-lipped smile locking in your laughter.

“She’s in for a real treat when she finds out she was in tears the other day because I had to turn the Animal Planet off because all of a sudden the screen panned out to a lion absolutely devouring an emu.”

You break, full-on laughing now at the sole imagery of a nonchalant Soori and a frenzied Jungkook fumbling with the buttons of his high-tech remote control.

“Or when she finds out she can’t wear dresses because she likes to show everyone and their mothers her belly button.” You add.

“If I kept them on their toes just imagine her.”

You both remain in a peaceful silence for about a second as your laughter dies down.

“Hm, well… it’s all a karmic cycle so be prepared.” You muse, humming as he frowns.

“Nope. I’m prepared, you see? I at least know the god-awful habit is all babies. Not just me.”

You turn around, walking backwards as you face him. “Nope. I wasn’t talking about baby Jungkook.”

“Ha. Well, I stand my case. I also happen to be prepared. I have a bullshit radar for rebellious teens.”

“Takes one to know one.”

He narrows his eyes at you. “I was an angel.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

“Why is that?”

“Because you look too much like one.”

“That’s just a bonus,” he flirts, picking his pace so he can get closer to you.

You click your tongue, biting your lip before you say,

“No. that’s just deceiving.”

~

Lunch is a smooth affair. Jungkook is merely an observer as his mother entertains Soori with random lady-who-brunches talk and his dad picks an interest in dissecting your literature degree. At first, it’s a bit patronizing and Jungkook visibly tenses next to you – it almost feels as if he was introducing you to them in the very same sense you’re both very well exploring. But his father, with a deep-rooted love for the classics, caves – engaging in quite the conversation. He doesn’t quite recognize the majority of the names you both throw back and forth but he looks at you in total awe. You talk about things with such passion and excitement. With love. And it is then that the thought haunts him:

You are love personified.

Jungkook doesn’t know just what that means. Or why his heart and brain ganged up on him and put the thought in his mind – engraving it. But it makes sense to him. You have a softness about you, a lightness that you carry that sheds light into the darkest of spaces, breaking down the tallest of walls. The hardest of men, i.e., his very own father.

Now, his parents might fall into most of the stereotype that characterize the filthy rich but, being assholes for no reason is not one of them. So, they welcome you and Jungkook can tell it surprises you. He also knows that a big part of their approach is due to the fact that they can so clearly see how fond Soori is of you and that is the one thing they’ve weakened for in all of Jungkook’s twenty-eight years on this earth. They have a weakness for her he doesn’t even think they had for him and he thinks it’s only normal, especially considering the circumstances. In fact, he’s grateful for it.

You all say your goodbyes, his mother pressing a kiss to Soori’s forehead before she lets her know, ‘table manners will be discussed with urgency during our next meeting’. She just giggles, grabbing a fist-full of her hair and tugging playfully, making her yelp. Jungkook feigns a stern front, attempting to tell her off but in reality, he just finds it hilarious.

Once they’re out of eyesight you turn to him, eyebrows raising in amusement.

“So, Mr. Jeon’s a romantic.” You state, making him wince in surprise.

“Sorry, come again?”

“Come on. Barret, Neruda, Keats… Baudelaire. The greatest poets of our time. All moved by a little thing called love.”

Jungkook doesn’t know enough to agree but coming from you he doesn’t doubt it. He doesn’t doubt you’re so well-read in something you carry so well. Love.

“I’ve heard my dad’s name followed by many adjectives but romantic is a first.”

“Are you one, too?”

“What?”

“A romantic.”

He hums. “Elaborate.”

“What is there to elaborate in?” You laugh, taking Soori in your arms when she decides to perform her free-fall from her father to you. It’s a good thing you’re both well-trained, always ready to catch her.

“Well,” he gets nervous, your effect on him makes his brain malfunction at times. “It’s a broad term, isn’t it?”

“Mm, depends. How do you see it? Do you see it as love or do you see it as love?” Your voice lilts at the end and he can’t help but laugh at it, half amused and half endeared.

“I don’t know,” but whatever he sees you at, that’s the closest. “But I have my set of beliefs.”

“Ah. So you are.”

He rolls his eyes but you don’t miss his smile. He can’t deny you, really. Because as much as love failed him, he can’t help but see it. He sees it in his parents, in their odd little ways of showing it. In his friends, in how he’s seen even the most untameable of characters be swooped off of their feet and straightened in one swift movement – all because of love. Love walked out on Jungkook but it left him the thing he loves the most. And the one person that he knows will always love him. She has four set of teeth and looks dangerously close to another free-fall as she smiles at him.

And he sees it in you. In the way you take on the world. In the way you speak and read your books and write in that beat up journal. In the way you sing to Soori who will most likely know the entirety of Elton John’s discography by the time she’s two.

Love feels so scary to Jungkook right now – it threatens to break him, even. But he’s not blind to it.

“Come on, I want to show you something before we go.”

~

“What is it with you and non-traditional means of transportation?”

The three of you stand at the end of the dock that sways softly to the beat of the current of the river. A long and sleek speedboat right in front of you. It’s beautiful – dark wood exteriors with black and white detailing, a royal blue flag with The West End insignia on it. You all but gawk as Jungkook jumps in, unconsciously taking a step back with Soori in your arms.

“You know, for someone who’s so easily entertained you sure are hard to impress.” He says as he digs through one of the compartments beneath the seats, retrieving a small, pink life-jacket, presumably Soori’s.

“What about this screams easy?” You sneer, making him let out a loud chuckle.

“Pass her over,” he tells you, hands stretching out towards Soori who jumps excitedly in your hold. You hesitate for a second, frowning at him. “Oh, don’t worry. She loves this thing. Look I even-,” he points to the tail of the boat and you see it. Soori Blue – her name engraved in dainty, cursive letters.

“Did you consent to this?” You ask her. She returns your question with a giggle.

You pass her to him and he puts the life-jacket around her, adjusting tightly as she distracts herself with her trusted giraffe. Once he’s done, he stretches his arm out for you. You don’t take it right away.

“Come on, ___. It’ll be fun.” He presses.

“No speeding, just boating, okay?”

“Don’t worry. it’s just boating when baby’s in. We can do the speeding another day.” He winks and you know nothing about his sentence was sexual but the action sends a flutter to your lower stomach.

You get in, taking Soori from him and settling in one of the plush seats as you wrap your arms around her, holding her tight. Just like flying, she takes on this activity like a champ, squirming excitedly when Jungkook gets behind the wheel and sets sail, no destination in particular, just leisurely roaming about the waters.

You can’t quite deny it – it’s soothing. The breeze is nice and relaxing and he sets a steady, relaxing pace. You glance towards him, eyes focused on the waters ahead and hands effortlessly manoeuvering the wheel. The wind dishevels his hair but it’s one hell of a sight as the strands fly freely around his face. He eventually tugs his front bangs behind his ears, making him look ten times dreamier.

He catches you staring. You look so beautiful. Hair dancing in the wind, your hand pressing down on Soori’s silky strands so they don’t fly off. Your white, flowy dress falls victim, too, as it pulls up your legs, exposing your tan skin to him. Soori’s fingers point to nowhere in particular and you pull her to you, kissing her cheeks before you nod and say, ‘water!’. His brain short-circuits at the impact the exchange has on him – on how tender you are with her. Jungkook has always loved to see the world through Soori’s eyes and always dreaded the day she’d outgrow that wonder. But in you he realizes that doesn’t have to necessarily be the case. He thinks that if you stuck around for long enough, she might never outgrow it – just adapt it. Just like you.

He brings the engine to a stop once the boat is far enough for the hotel to be a tiny speck in the distance.

“Hey, Jungkook,” you call out to him, “I’m impressed!”

Your smile widens as he walks closer to you, coming to a seat beside you.

“You like my speedboat?” He teases.

“I like your boat.”

You’re both laughing now, so loud even Soori joins in.

“Is it cliché to say that I like to come here to think?”

“No. I get it. I mean, it wouldn’t be the first place to cross my mind but… I see why it is yours.”

“You can’t escape them here. Your thoughts.”

You turn to him. “Do you escape them often?”

“I guess. Sometimes…”

“We all have thoughts that we want to escape, I reckon.”

“Do you have them?”

“Why wouldn’t I,” you ask.

“I don’t know. You strike me as brave. Like you would run straight towards them.”

“Brave? Me?” Your voice is shocked.

“Yeah,” his eyes meet yours. “You.”

“I’ve never been called brave in my life.”

He scoffs light-heartedly. “It was the first thing I saw in you. Really saw, I mean. When you sat there and put me in my place after I nagged at you during the interview. Nobody had ever sat my ass down so poetically, by the way.”

“You deserved that.”

“I deserved worst.”

“No, you didn’t.”

Your eyes are gentle and sincere and Jungkook melts at your words. At all of you.

“___,” he pauses, contemplating something you can’t read.

“Yes?”

“I haven’t felt sure of much in… a long time. Other than Soori and a handful of useless things, nothing holds much certainty in my life.” Your gaze deflects to the wooden floor at his words. “But you- I am sure of you. And wanting to try. And getting to know you.” He mimics your words from earlier, a timid smile forming at his lips at the relief he feels over saying them back. They’d been stuck in his chest, tickling up his throat every time he all but glanced at you.

You smile at him, a world of feelings taking over you, an airy voice when you say, “you’re brave, too.”

Your words ring in his ears, straight to his chest, knocking the breath out of him. For a second, he sees himself in your eyes – believes your words. And without much hesitation, he kisses you. Leaning into you, gently cupping your cheek with his hand. It takes you by surprise but you let yourself fall into his lips, scooting closer to him on the seat, both your arms still wrapped around Soori who babbles away as she plays with her giraffe. Your lips are soft and he pulls your bottom one in-between his teeth as you let out a sigh – a delicate sound that he catches with his mouth as his tongue finds yours, allowing him to go deeper.

He pulls back slightly, the both of you gasping for air for about a second before your lips find one another yet again – this time in a gentle lock, as he indulges in the plushness of your lips, how full they feel against his.

Your moment is cut short by Soori’s high-pitched shriek. You both look down at her and she smiles, blowing a sloppy raspberry into thin air, happy to have your attention back on her.

You bounce your leg and he pinches her cheek and that’s enough for her to be satisfied, eyes back on her plushie as she jumps straight back into the previous conversation they were having.

Jungkook leans back against the seat and extends his arm to the side, locking it around you until you’re safely tucked in – a cocoon of his warmth as you lean your head on his shoulder and his hand plays with your hair. Soori is in the middle and she mimics the two of you, leaning her body backwards until she’s resting against your stomachs.

“Oh, God. She copies everything,” you say.

“I know. Get ready for double the sloppy kisses.”

“From you or her?”

“Both.”

He leans forwards, his lips coming to smack at your cheek as he nuzzles closer to you.

You giggle at his touch – Soori follows.

~

Doorway goodbyes have gotten a tad bit harder with a teething Soori. It’s not that she fights being back in your arms after Jungkook hands her over to you – it’s more so having to see him leave and not having the possibility to alternate between the two of you.

Desperate times have called for desperate measures – aka, distractions. Today is half a pancake she nibbles on, chubby hand drenched in sticky honey. She offers it to Jungkook, always the kind girl she is. You think he’s going to take a fake-bite and fake-chew on it the way he normally does but he actually goes for it. Making you gasp in surprise.

“Heeey. Get your own pancake, daddy.” You say in a serious voice.

“Don’t call me that.” He points a finger at you, a scowl to his face. You chuckle.

“Don’t eat her pancake.”

“She likes to share.” He returns, his Soori voice on as he coos at her before kissing her cheeks. “Hey, by the way… we’re having a pool party on Sunday.”

“Oh. Fun…”

“Yeah. Jiminie’s inviting Lucy,” he wags his eyebrows at you. “I’m excited to finally meet her. Properly, I mean.”

You smile, excited for the two of them to be taking this step. “You’ll love her. You all will. She’s the best. Soori will love her!”

“I’m sure we will. But hey, I was wondering if maybe… you could come?”

“Why,” your tone is more brass than you originally intend.

“I want you there. I mean- I know we said… I don’t think they’ll be surprised. They’ll just think you’ll be here for Soori. Unless you don’t feel comfortable with that or- maybe you have plans which I completely understand-”

You smile a little at his rambling, interrupting him as he narrows his eyes at you. “I’ll be here. For Soori.” You see the fallen expression in his face and you break, “and for you. I like seeing you during the weekend. You get less bossy.”

“Funny, you.”

“Oh, I’m hilarious.”

He scrunches his nose, nodding. “Yeah, you kinda are.”

He scans the room for a second before confirming the coast is clear, leaning closer to you and placing a sweet peck on your lips – getting carried away for a second too long as he deepens the kiss.

He knows you don’t know this but you make doorway goodbyes easier for him, too.

~

“What is it with him?” Kenny’s eyes are glued to Jungkook as he sips on a beer and laughs at something Namjoon just said.

“I don’t know. He even laughed at something Tae said today.” Mai responds, her eyes fixed on the same sight.

“Maybe therapy has been helping?” Suelgi suggests.

“Yeah,” Mai’s voice drifts right in tune with her thoughts. Her eyes look for you, sat in Soori’s mat playing with her and Dae. “Therapy…”

“Whatever it is… it makes me happy. I mean, I hadn’t seen a smiling Ggukie in a while. I missed it.”

“Me too. And just overall, he seems different.” Suelgi says.

Mai smiles, simply nodding as she sips on her glass of wine.

He’s different alright.

~

“Hey,” you walk towards the small circle Jungkook, Lucy, Hobi and Jimin have formed.

They all greet you back, enthusiastically.

“Soori sort of drifted. She was with Yoongi on the couch so…,” you say to Jungkook, feeling a bit awkward at not knowing how to approach him with so much people around.

It’s not that you regret coming. It’s just that you don’t really feel like you quite fit in the environment. There are many eyes on Soori, all wanting to give her undivided attention and play with her. So, it’s not like you can do your job and mingling feels slightly out of place considering that you, well, keep one hell of a secret. A secret you try not to make obvious. So, you’ve been avoiding Jungkook at all costs.

“Yeah, the little kids tend to tire her out quickly as she tries to keep up with them. Have you eaten? Are you hungry? Do you want something to drink?” You frown slightly at his words, hoping your eyes convey the words your mouth can’t.

“No. Thanks. I’m actually looking for her ducky. I can’t seem to find it and she’s been making the ducky face so,”

“Oh. Shit, yeah. I think I might’ve left it in the playroom this morning. We were playing videogames.”

“We?” Hobi snorts at your remark and you instantly regret it. “I’ll look for it. Where in her playroom?”

“Not hers. Mine. Here, I’ll come with.” He says and before you can say anything else he starts walking towards the inside of the house.

Once you make it to the long hallway, the same one that leads to his office, he turns to you – face laced with concern.

“Are you okay,” he asks.

“Yes. Sorry- I just- I’m bad at keeping secrets. I feel like my dumb face gives it away.”

He smiles at this, relief flooding his body. “It’s not dumb. And I’m sorry. Maybe it was a bit selfish of me to have you come… I just- wanted to see you.”

“No, no. I want to be here. I wanted to see you, too.” You sigh, leaning your back against the wall. He takes a step closer to you, expression unreadable – perhaps with something dancing in his eyes you’ve never seen before. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” he mocks nonchalance.

“Jungkook,” your hand comes to push lightly at his tummy, “there’s like- everyone out there.”

“Why would they come here?” He takes another step forward.

“I don’t know? Bathroom?”

“There’s a bathroom in the pool house.”

“Oh?”

“Oh,” he says, finally closing the space around you and clashing his lips to yours in a soft, slow kiss.

You whimper against his mouth, not really expecting to be this close to him today. It’s healing, really, to be able to just be with him after having him so tentatively close to you the whole day yet so out of reach. You hear a nearing voice – Namjoon’s it sounds like.

“Jung-”

“Shh,” he tells you, grabbing your hands and walking backwards, opening the door behind him. He closes it, securing the lock.

You look around you – a huge room with blue LED lights illuminating it. A couple of arcade games lining the walls, a pool table and a huge black couch that sits in front of an even bigger TV.

“What is this,” you ask, eyes still scanning the room in awe.

“My playroom,” he states simply, pulling you to him by the hands and closing your lips around his once again.

You realize it, the moment you circle your arms around his neck, fingers getting lost in his dark locks as his hands find your waist, making their descend until they squeeze around your hips. You realize just how bold of a move it was to put the two of you in an empty room. Alone and unsupervised. Not even by the prying eyes of a baby.

Mistake, mistake. But what have we said about those?

He lets out a throaty moan against your mouth as you pull at his hair gently, hissing as your nails soothingly run over the spot. The feeling sends goosebumps down his skin and his hands travel down until they land on your ass. You push into him and he squeezes, hard. You moan when you feel him against your lower belly and marvel at how hard he feels through the thin fabric of his swimsuit. He pulls away some, forehead resting on top of yours as your ragged breaths mix together.

“Fuck,” he pants.

“We can just… kiss a little,” you whisper against his lips.

“Yeah. Yeah,” he ponders. “Slow…”

“Slow.” You repeat and before you can process the lie his lips are back on yours.

He walks forwards, arms around your waist as you walk backwards, letting him guide you towards the couch. His knees hit the back of the cushions and he sits, legs spreading and body melting into the pillows as he looks up at you with hooded eyes. He looks heavenly – red-bitten lips glistening with the trace of yours, ruffly hair and slightly flushed cheeks; the soft tint traveling down his neck all the way to his chest.

“C’mere,” he intwines his fingers with yours, pulling you to him until you’re straddling his lap.

“Hm, feels oddly-” a sigh escapes your lips as his mouth connects to a tender spot at the side of your neck, “familiar- fuck.”

And Jungkook knows he’s a goner. The moment his teeth scrape down the sensitive skin and you whimper and squirm in his hold, hips buckling against his, the way he dreamed of the last time he had you in this position. He knows this is where boundaries come to die.

“These dresses will be the death of me,” he says as his hands snake past the hem, kneading around the soft flesh of your ass.

You rut your hips against his, more firmly this time and you can feel him better now – almost fully hard, long and thick as you drag your clothed cunt over him, tiny little whimpers leaving your lips as your eyes shut at the way you tease your clit with every roll of your hips.

He feels it, too. And he can’t help but get high off of your pleasure, on the way your nails push against the soft flesh at the nape of his neck – the way your mouth parts slightly against his own, your hips picking up pace as he groans, hands on your ass as he aids your rhythm, alternating between rapid movements and deeper slow ones.

He’s fully hard now and he can feel the tension building up in his lower stomach, the way it caves in, making him shudder at the sharp pleasure that shoots through him as his cock throbs inside his pants. He tightens his grip around your hips, pulling upwards and away from him until they’re hovering over his. His head falls backwards, hand coming to run through his hair as he collects himself. “Wait- I’ll cum,” he pants.

“It’s okay,” you assure him.

“No. I want to- can I touch you?”

“Yes, please.”

Your voice is so lenient, so airy it sends Jungkook spiralling right into the very root of his lust.

Fuck slow.

His hands grip at the hem of your dress, bunching the fabric upwards until it rests against your tummy. Your hands replace his, holding onto your dress as his fingers run down the smooth of your legs, coming up to toy with the strings at one side of your bikini bottoms. His eyes divert from your lust filled ones all the way to his fingers as they leave feathery touches on your skin. He sees it then – a small butterfly tattoo that rests on your side, just below your hip at the curve of your ass. He groans, doubting he’s ever seen anything sexier in his life.

“Fuck- what is this, baby?”

The pet name sends your mind down a hazy spiral. “I- I wanted to be able to hide it.”

“It’s so sexy. You’re so sexy.”

He tugs at the string that holds your swimsuit in place, eyes widening slightly as the fabric falls apart on your skin, exposing your pussy to him. Your mouth parts, a silent moan breaking at your throat as his fingers come between your legs, digits rubbing at your clit. They travel downwards for a second before he collects your slick, rubbing it all over your little nub.

“Fuck, you’re so wet. Is this for me, baby?” His question has your eyes snapping open, lazy gaze fixating on him as you nod and moan as his fingers pick up their pace.

“Y-yes. I’ve- been like this all day.” Your confession has him groaning as he brings your face to him, biting at your bottom lip.

“Yeah?” His fingers tease at your entrance, drawing tight circles against it. You nod hastily and when you do, they push all the way in – middle and ring finger sliding right in, hooking inside of you as he finds that spot that has your legs shaking, weak at the feeling as your hips come down to their original position. “Shit- you’re so fucking tight. Your pussy’s so fucking tiny, baby. Swallowing my fingers.”

“Jungkook- m-move, please,” you whimper and he complies, beginning his assault on your snug walls as he drags the long of his fingers in and out of you, hitting that spot repeatedly until he feels you get impossibly tighter around them.

Your moans get louder, sweeter, against his lips as his thumb draws tight circles around your clit. You hold onto him as the tell-tale signs of your orgasm begin to unfold above him. It’s intoxicating, all of you – the way your hips roll against his fingers, pressing on his cock. The way you whimper against his ear before your mouth finds his and you kiss him, deep. The way your thighs close around him, knees weak at your futile attempts to as his strong legs push yours further apart.

“Fuck you’re so beautiful- you gonna cum for me, baby?”

“Yes,” your voice is but a whisper, lips not parting from his. “I’m so- fuck. I’m so close.”

“Let go, baby. I got you.”

You cry out when you feel him press firmly against your g-spot, legs shaking as you cum around his fingers, cunt fluttering restlessly around them, powered by his thumb on your clit, stimulating you from all nerve endings. Jungkook can feel the way you gush all around his hand, not once doubting you’ve made a mess out of his swimsuit, too.

“Oh, fuck,” you say, completely fucked-out as you relax against his body, blissfully coming down from probably the strongest orgasm you’ve had, well, ever.

He brandishes your shoulders with little kisses as he removes his fingers from between your legs, bringing them all the way to his mouth before he sucks on them – eyes closing in pleasure. Before he can open them, your hand is closing around his clothed cock, tight grip as you stroke him. He moans, fingers slipping from his wet mouth.

“You don’t have to,” he says, hand coming to rest on top of yours.

“I want to. Please.”

That damn word coming from your pretty lips will see the end of him. He gives you a faint nod as his hand closes around yours, tightening your grip. But it’s not enough, for either of you. Your hips pull back some, and his body jerks as your bare cunt comes in contact with his balls through the thin material of his swimsuit. You roll your hips, pleased with his reaction. Your fingers hook on the waistband of his shorts and his hips raise slightly as you push them past his hips, just enough to free his cock. You nearly drool at the sight of him – cock springing up and away from the restraints, landing on his pelvis. He’s long and thick, a pretty set of veins running from base to tip where he leaks a tiny pearl of precum, arousal so evident as it twitches and he whimpers. Jungkook is in no position to get cocky, considering how painfully hard he is, but a lazy grin forms at his lips when he sees you gawking at the size of him, trying to wrap your head around it. Your tiny hand travels down his stomach, emitting a groan from him as your fingers wrap around his girth – the tip of your thumb and fingers barely able to meet as your fist closes around his cock.

Your head lowers a bit before your jaw twitches, collecting your build-up saliva before you let a string of spit fall from your mouth all the way to the tip of his cock. Jungkook’s eyes roll at the mere sight, a feral moan leaving his lips.

“Fuck, ___. Yeah- fuck. Just like that.” He praises as your palm closes around his tip, thumb toying with his slit as you collect the precum that builds up at your ministrations.

Your touch is soft but firm, twisting at the upstroke, pace picking up as you feel him pulse around you. You bring your other hand down and close it around his base, gripping tightly as your other hand works his shaft and squeezes at his tip. He begins to lose control under you, fingers pressing on the soft flesh of your thighs and hips thrusting up at the rhythm of your merciless grip around his cock. He doesn’t think he’ll last much longer, especially when you start rutting your pussy mindlessly over his balls that feel heavy at the wake of his impending release.

“Koo,” you’ve never called him that and it does things to him, cock fighting with his heart to see who’ll explode first. “Cum for me, please. I wanna make you feel good,” you plead and it’s that innocence in your voice that threatens to tip him over the edge.

“It feels so good, baby. So fucking good- ffuck. There- don’t stop,” he begs as your thumb presses against his frenulum and your other hand strokes his shaft, tight hold on it as you twist your wrist.

You whine, exceptionally loud and Jungkook’s eyes snap open, met with the sight of your face contorting in pleasure as you bite your lip, your hands on his cock never faltering as the friction of your clit dragging against his balls rips another orgasm out of you. He thinks he’s about to pass out as he feels your pussy flutter as you press down on him.

“F-fuck. Fuck, that’s so hot. You’re gonna make me cum,” his hands fly to your hips, moving them against him even as you squirm in sensitivity.

“Yes, please- cum for me.” You sound delirious and that does it for him.

His head rolls back, leaning against the sofa as a feral groan rips from his chest – throaty and dreamy and you think you can cum again just by the way he sounds and looks as he falls apart under you. Face contorting in pleasure as he pulls his lip in-between his teeth, biting hard as his cock jerks in your hold and he spills all over your hands – so much cum some even lands on his tummy. His abs tense and finally release once he begins to come down.

“Holy fuck,” his voice shakes, hands gently coming down and removing yours from around his cock as he cringes with the over-sensitivity.

“That was…,” you start.

He sighs, tucking a fallen strand of hair behind your ear. “So good.”

You hum in response, face nuzzling against his touch. “I think we should head back. No one is going to believe it was this hard to find a rubber ducky.” You say, looking down at his softening cock.

“Don’t make me laugh just yet, I think I just blacked out.”

You hold back a chuckle, lips gently pressing against his as his hand plays with your hair.

“I’ll go clean up first. I’ll tell them you got a work call or something.”

He only nods, shooting you a lazy smile before you come to a standing position – steps faltering a bit as you regain your balance.

Jungkook’s head is still floating in cloud nine and he lets himself enjoy it for a minute until he can process just how good that was and how it’s about to make slow most likely, probably – impossible.

~

He walks into the living room, face glued to his phone as he scrolls aimlessly through it.

Yoongi lays on the couch with Soori nuzzled against his side as she suckles on her bottle.

“Hi,” he says when he sees Jungkook.

“Hey, man.” He responds casually.

“You look like you just fucked your nanny,” his voice has its usual monotone ring to it and Jungkook eyes widen at his blunt words.

“Yo. Language.” He scolds, pointing at Soori.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

He sits next to Soori, covering her ears, “I did not fuck ___.”

Yoongi scoffs, diverting his eyes back to the tv. “Really now? Are you gonna hit me with another she just straddled my lap?”

Jungkook stays silent.

Thankful his honesty back then landed him into this white lie so easily.

~

HI. if u made it this far – i hope u enjoyed!! this was my first time explicitly squeezing my sexy juices out and I ENJOYED THAT A LITTLE TOO MUCH. i never want to leave the countryside. i am, officially, becoming a country girl. i truly hope u enjoyed. let me know what you thought!! i love talking to u guys, but u already know that <333 i’m sending loads of love!!!! xxxxx

~

★taglist★

“And then he proceeds to pay for my matcha latte with coins!” You turn to Lucy, who widens her eyes at Sky’s words in mock surprise. “And- ___, get this,” she says, snapping her fingers when she notices you’ve drifted for the majority of her recount, “he walked me home. Only he was riding that skateboard of his the whole way there! Ugh.”

“What’s so wrong about coins, though?” Lucy says, a little dumbfounded by this. You snort.

“Well,” Sky contemplates for a while. “I don’t know! The vibe was just off. And the waiter had to stand there for like ten thousand centuries as he counted them. One. By. One.”

Sky is not your friend.

Well, that is a loose statement. Let’s try again. Sky is someone that has fallen into the space between an acquaintance and those people you end up in the company of whenever you want to do just this – have aimless conversations in a bar. You can’t quite explain it but the mundanity of her problems is comforting at times. Like they bring some sort of universal balance that sets everything back into place.

If you let her, she’ll sit through five negronis and tell you about any recent atrocity that she stumbled upon. Today is the poor skateboarder that had to pay for her overpriced green tea with coins. You take a moment of silence for his spirit and hope he recovers well.

“Hold in there, Sky. You know what they say, a million thorns to get to the rose.” Lucy comforts as Sky sulks, sipping on her drink.

Nobody has ever said that. But Sky nods, sniffing a little, and you smile. Lucy is, without a doubt, walking straight into the gates of heaven.

“Ladies, on the house.” Jiwoo, former literary student and classmate, says as he places three shot glasses filled with a suspicious looking clear liquid.

He also bartends, hence your uncomfortable seating arrangement at the bar besides one another. The three of you are his personal cheerleaders as you keep him entertained through his shift and he keeps you, well, buzzed.

“I just think-” Sky starts, “I think I’m ready for my rose. Now.”

The three of you just nod in acknowledgement at her words. A sheepish smile adorns Jiwoo’s face, who successfully recovered after Sky crushed his spirit freshman year. He did not pay with coins but she did tell him his head was ‘a little too in the clouds’ after he confessed his undying love for a good Shakespearean drama.

You reach for the glass, eyeing it for a second before you decide, fuck it. As you bring the shot closer to your mouth you glance at Lucy whose eyes look frantic, wide in shock. You simply assume it’s a delayed reaction to Sky’s very own Shakespearean drama. As soon as the rim touches your lips, your neck draws back, closing your eyes as you down the Tequila in one swing.

“Wow. I didn’t know you had it in you, ___!”

The awfully-familiar-but-not-quite-there voice startles you, opening your eyes and glancing in the direction of where it’s coming from. Your eyes widen in pure, utter terror, face wincing as the burn from the straight liqueur hits your throat, too consumed in the sight before you to bother reaching for a chaser. You let out a throaty cough.

The awfully familiar voice belongs to Taehyung, who, to no surprise, stands in a circle next to your seat at the bar with a set of familiar faces. One of them being Jungkook’s.

Your mind chants a string of highly explicit curse words that, for obvious reasons, you can’t voice.

“Hey, ___! Nice to see you again!” Jimin’s chirpy voice breaks you out of your ghostly trance.

“Uh- yeah. You too. It’s nice to…,” your voice drifts as your eyes meet Jungkook’s stern ones.

Fucking hell.

“Ah, don’t let him get to you. He’s done worse.” Yoongi muses, amusement evident in his voice. He’s even smiling. This moment is so awkward it even broke Yoongi.

Great.

Taehyung chuckles before he says, “I’m gonna go see if I can find us a table. This place is packed tonight, huh?”

“I’ll come with.” Yoongi says, voice back to his relaxed tone.

Jimin browses through the menu as Jungkook comes to stand next to you.

“Hey,” he says, giving you a tight-lipped smile.

You nod, returning it with the same amount of awkwardness. “Hey.”

“Hi!” Sky chirps, making you both turn to her, “I’m Sky. Nice to meet you.” She extends her hand over you, offering it to Jungkook.

He shakes it, returning her introduction with a simple, “Jungkook.”

“How do you two know each other?” She rests her elbows on the bar, back turned to Lucy completely, as she cocks her head that rests between her hands. A dazzling, Colgate smile gracing her features.

“He’s my boss,” you say the last word with a certain edge to it, hoping it helps her tone her peacock wings down. But it is to no avail.

You look up at the ceiling, looking for your angels that seem to have clocked out for the day.

“Oh! You’re the owner of that cute baby she keeps yapping on about?”

Lucy’s fingers press at her temples, mentally cursing her own angels for this exceptional turn of events.

Jungkook all but gawks at her for a second too long before he says, “Yup. That’d be me. Owner of the cute baby.”

“Oh my god, cute! I love babies. Well, more like, babies love me.” She giggles, overly enthusiastic for the dullness of the exchange.

Jungkook smiles nervously at her. Jimin senses his discomfort and the overall awkwardness of the situation and steps in, coming to stand between Sky and Lucy.

“Hey, what are you drinking? It looks nice and refreshing.” He asks her.

“Oh, this? It’s a negroni. Super strong, but kind of picked up the habit during my semester abroad in Rome.” She takes a sip of her drink as she responds.

“Ah, that sounds nice.” He entertains that for about a second, giving her a genuine smile before he turns to Lucy. “Hi. I’m Jimin, and you?”

She glances at him, eyes long lost somewhere else as to brace herself from the situation. “Oh- um. Mint julep.” She says.

He chuckles softly, meeting her eyes before he shakes his head lightly. “No. I mean, what’s your name?”

She gasps a little in shock, an apologetic giggle leaving her lips. “I’m Lucy.”

“Lucy…” he contemplates, eyes fixated on the endless bottles on the other side of the bar. A small smile on his lips. He turns to her. “It’s nice to meet you, Lucy.”

~

1. That one time you stole a single cherry flavoured Chupa Chup from your local convenience store after your cousin, the juvenile delinquent, called you a wuss.

2. Breaking Micky, member of your grandma’s beloved porcelain kitten collection and denying it over and over again, resulting in her taking the belief her house was haunted to her death bed.

3. Cheating on that one math exam in fourth grade because the basic concept of geometry just wouldn’t get through you.

4. Letting your geeky science group partner feel you up in your bed whilst your parents were next door, at total peace with their daughter engaging in the thrilling wonders of the anatomical body – the other kind.

You’re going through a mental list of every single thing you could’ve possibly done to be stuck in this situation. But even for you, who’s had to live with the guilt of said doings for many years, it feels a little bit drastic to be punished like this.

Taehyung’s quest for a table was unsuccessful, resulting in them having to occupy the seats right next to yours at the bar.

And so here you were, right next to Jungkook, both of your backs turned against each other’s, as you both tried to enjoy a little night out on the town. Another quest that kept finding itself unsuccessful.

The space is quite loud around you and you can’t really listen to their conversation – only Taehyung’s loud laugh now and then.

So, you think, this is good. This could be worse. You can’t even see him! And like Jungkook says: out of sight, out of mind. Yes. This is perfect.

This was not perfect.

“Guys,” Sky whispers, waving her hands inwards, motioning for you and Lucy to get closer. You do and she says, “I must’ve spoken too loud because… it’s here!” She shrieks and Lucy frowns in confusion at her words. Sky rolls her eyes. “My rose, silly.”

“Elaborate?” Lucy urges.

“Duh. ___’s hot boss! Jungkook,” she whispers his name but you still turn around abruptly, making sure he didn’t catch it. “___, you must play cupid. Pretty please?” Her palms flush together, signalling a prayer and you’re not religious but the act feels blasphemous to you.

“Sky, did you spike your negronis again? He’s my boss. I’m his nanny. There is so much wrong with the simple image of me trying to hook him up with my twenty-two-year-old friend.” You argue, trying to sound objective, so as to look away from the specks of jealousy that are threatening to explode inside your chest.

Sky pouts and Lucy nods before she adds, “Yeah, Sky. I think this rose is thorny.”

“I think it’s the beginning of a very romantic story.” She stands her ground, and quite frankly, you don’t blame her.

“Sky, if actual cupid is somewhere around here on nightly rounds, then he might be able to help you. I can’t, though.”

She jumps in her chair excitedly, clapping her hands once before saying, “You are so right! It has to be fate. Plus, he won’t be able to resist me.” She bats at her hair as she says this, sipping on her negroni, cheeky smile on her face.

And for all you know, she might be right. Sky is the textbook definition of attractive. She has sharp features that make her look almost cat-like, but a soft, warm smile that, yeah, most times she fakes but hey – it’s warm alright. She dresses like she knows she has an all-rounder proportionate body and overall, she oozes confidence. If you consider Jungkook’s track record, as in, the woman he had a child with then yes – he wouldn’t be able to resist someone like Sky.

It shouldn’t, but the realization makes you feel uncomfortable. And the more you think about it the discomfort turns into something worse – sadness.

Sky goes on and on about the principles she sticks to, all gathered from her, and you quote, Bible; Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus. You’ve never read said literary masterpiece but the title alone sounds sexist. Both Lucy and you let her talk, though, falling back into the dynamic of the aimless conversation – just like you were before Jungkook and his troop waltzed inside your little Saturday Sanctuary, now cursed forever.

You sigh, shoulders falling to the beat of your gaze as you go back to aimlessly stirring your drink, a significant mental strain on trying to brush aside the feeling of jealousy that takes over you. It’s a jealousy that doesn’t even belong to you, you realize. A feeling that came from an idea so far-fetched inside your brain, mustered from a shock-end reaction after Soori ended up in the hospital over a week ago.

Neither of you had acknowledged it – proving your case further. And it was better that way – you didn’t need the added tension on top of Jungkook’s day-to-day indifference. So, in that moment, you welcomed it.

Right now, it makes your heart feel heavy, though.

Jiwoo senses your despair, walking over to you and placing his hands gently on top of yours, shaking them a little to get your attention. Your gaze snaps up, looking at him as you return his sweet smile.

“Are you alright?” He asks.

“Just fine,” you tell him but he raises his brow, picking up on your white lie.

“Hm,” he ponders, “I’ll believe you. Have some of this, though. Just in case.” He winks before he places another shot glass in front of you, swiftly sliding it your way.

You catch it. Another poorly judged, ‘fuck it’ before you’re repeating the same motion that put you right into said misery you’re trying to drown.

~

At first, Jungkook only feels it – your change in demeanour. Then, he notices the change in your tone of voice, really cancelling out his friend’s conversations and listening in on yours. You laugh, clap, shriek, gasp – dramatizing every reaction to whatever it is your friends are saying. He’s not really listening in on your conversation, no. He’s listening to you.

Curiosity finally gets the best of him and he shifts around in his seat, coming to face the bar fully. You’re slightly turned around but he can see you from the corner of his eyes. Your cheeks are flushed, arms swinging around in the air as you tell some story about a road trip from hell where you and Lucy both caught food poisoning and your car broke down halfway through the trip. He chuckles softly to himself. You truly are a storyteller. Even funnier as your words begin to slur slightly as the alcohol swims through your body all the way to your head.

“Hey,” Jiwoo barely whispers, but Jungkook can hear him perfectly from his place next to you.

“Yeah?” Your voice is soft, and he can hear the smile on your face.

“What are you doing after this?”

“I don’t know… what am I doing after this?” You mock seriousness.

“Wanna get some ramen on the way and go over to yours? Watch a movie?”

Jungkook visibly tenses, but you don’t pay him much mind when you jump from your seat. “Beetlejuice!” You exclaim.

Jiwoo laughs, a short-nod of affirmation as he says, “Beetlejuice.”

“Bathroom break,” you announce, to seemingly nobody.

You stumble down from your stool, holding onto the edges when your step falters a bit as your head spins once, then twice as you regain your balance. Once you’re seeing straight again, you make your way to the bathroom – laughing to yourself as you feel the buzz all through you, easing your nerves, making you feel good.

Jungkook bounces his left leg repeatedly in a frenzy. Jimin picks up on it, turning to him.

“Hey, you okay?”

He nods. “Yeah. I’ll be right back.”

He doesn’t process his train of thought as he gets up from his stool, turning around and promptly making his way to where he knows the bathrooms are. He shoves past groups of people dancing, kissing and groping. Some doing all at once.

He makes it through the narrow hallway that leads to the bathrooms and stands there, waiting. He realizes just how poorly thought out his action was and how he has no fucking idea of what he’s going to say to you when you walk out of the toilet. He’s about to turn around, or hide inside the men’s bathroom – whichever one he can muster first. But the Universe has other plans because right as he begins to stir out of his awkward standing position, you come out of the bathroom. You’re looking down, measuring your steps, hands at your side fixing your skirt.

You look up and you’re met with the sight of him.

“Oop,” you yelp, hands coming to your mouth in embarrassment as you lose balance slightly.

He grabs your shoulders gently, holding you in place. “You okay?”

“Yeah-,” you stare at him, blinking slowly as you take him in. “Yeah. Yes. I’m fine. I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what,” he asks.

“Um… my- me. Uh. I’m drunk. This is embarrassing.”

Jungkook chuckles lightly, letting go of your shoulders. “Don’t be. You should be doing just this on a Saturday night.”

“I don’t- usually. You know?” You tell him and he frowns in confusion, smiling a little at your rambling. “I usually spend my Saturday nights reading The Little Prince and listening to Elton John until Lucy loses it.”

“The Little Prince?” He asks, amused.

“It’s my comfort book.” You defend, a pout forming at your lips. You frown, “where’s Soori?”

“She’s spending the night at my parents’,” you wince slightly at this, eyebrows raising. “Don’t worry, my nanny’s there- I mean. She- took care of me when I was growing up.”

You give him a lazy smile. “So, you had a me?”

“Eh- yeah. Kind of.”

“Was she qualified?” You tease.

He laughs, rolling his eyes. “Funny.”

“I’m,” hiccup, “sorry.”

Jungkook scolds himself mentally over how endeared he is by your teasing and hazy minded playfulness. If he thinks about this situation in a professional light, the same one he carries as CEO, he already breeched protocol. But then again, he’s pretty sure that happened the moment he pulled you to him and you straddled his lap. But we don’t talk about that.

“You’re alright.” He gives you a kind smile, throwing you aback. “Do you- I can take you home, if you want. My driver’s out front.”

You ponder on this for a second too long, sending Jungkook’s brain into a frenzy. The protocol is non-existent at this point. “Are you sure? I- there’s a bus! I usually take the bus. From the ramen place. Best ramen in town. You should try it- anyways. The bus stop is right in front-”

He interrupts your ramble, voice going back to that stern edge. “I wouldn’t want you taking the bus this late at night.” He can see you contemplating, lips in that signature pout. “We can stop by the ramen place- if that’s why you’re so hesitant.”

You smile at him. A big, toothy smile that makes your whole face light up.

“Done deal.”

~

The scene that unfolds before you as you get back to your designated places in front of the bar is astonishing, to say the least.

The both of you come to a halt as you take in the little social circle both your group of friends have formed as they mingle, down shots and sip on their drinks casually.

When two worlds collide is an ironic way to put it but it couldn’t hold more accuracy.

Yoongi and Taehyung are invested in some recount about Sky’s strolls through Venezia – hard Z. Jiwoo fills in on that conversation here and there as he mixes drinks behind the bar. Their mouths are agape, taking in her wild stories as she over-dramatizes them for the purpose of having their full attention on her.

Opposite that, in their own little bubble, another mingle that borders on bonding forms as Jimin and Lucy sit awfully close to one another. It’s all giggles and coy smiles, little whispers in between stories as they grow visibly smitten with each other.

Jungkook’s voice takes them all out of said bubbles.

“I’m taking ___ home.” The moment the words leave his mouth he regrets them – an assortment of bemused faces gawking back at him. “To- I mean- I’m giving her a ride home.” He clarifies.

“Yeah, I’m feeling a bit tired,” you turn to Jiwoo, an apologetic smile on your face. “Let’s do Beetlejuice some time next week?” He only nods, returning your smile.

“Alright, Gguk. Get home safely – the two of you. Give Soori a forehead kiss from me.” Taehyung says.

“And me,” adds Yoongi.

Jungkook smiles at them, nodding before turning around. But he’s caught halfway through his action before a high-pitched voice calls out his name.

Sky walks over to him, offering a flirty gaze before she says, “Jungkook! It was so nice meeting you. I hope our paths cross again. I’m sure they will.” She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Until then,” Jungkook tells her, bowing slightly, shooting a quick smile her way before he walks away.

You are not one to thrive off of other people’s miseries but yes, a wicked grin adorns your face at the sight of hers. Taehyung catches this, raising a brow your way. Your smile drops, quickly facing away from him. Out of sight, out of mind.

You walk over to Lucy instead, smiling at her before you say, “Hey, Lu. You coming with?”

She looks at you, a sheepish smile forming at her lips. “Uh… I think I’ll stay. Text me when you get home, though!”

“Sure. Will do. Let me know when you’re heading back as well.”

She nods and gives you a hug, which you return – letting yourself melt into her.

You can quite literally feel the happiness she radiates.

Jimin looks at you, smiling sweetly.

He’s to blame. You smile back at him.

His little moment of bliss doesn’t last long as he feels Jungkook come to a stand right next to him.

“Minie,” he wraps his hand around his friend, sweetly bringing him closer as he laughs. But Jimin knows his alter motives. “Don’t fuck my nanny’s best friend.”

“Ggukie,” Jimin laughs, over-dramatizing the action, a saccharine ring to his voice when he says, “don’t fuck your nanny.”

~

You are sitting in the backseat of Jungkook’s Range Rover. He’s by your side, mindlessly scrolling through his phone. He bounces his left leg over and over again and as you fixate on it you begin to feel dizzy, head spinning a little.

You have no idea how you get the two of you to the ramen place with the half-assed directions you give his driver but once you’re pulling up, you’re telling him your orders and Jungkook is handing him his credit card over before he exits the car and heads to your personal idea of adult Disneyland – the ramen place.

You think about how this poor man is about to hand the cashier a black, sleek card to pay for greasy under-priced, in your humble opinion, ramen. The thought is so funny to you in your drunken state, you start chuckling.

Jungkook’s eyes snap from his phone to you, frowning in confusion as to what it is you find so amusing. His bewildered expression just makes the whole situation funnier and you’re full on laughing now – head thrown back in your seat, one hand over your mouth and the other over your chest as you try to control it. But your attempts are in vain because your laughter only gets louder, filling the space around you at an alarming rate.

Jungkook stares at you. He’s stuck in a very 50/50 state of mind. 50% dumbfounded and 50% praying to all the gods and angels above your laughter never comes to a stop. And with that, it becomes contagious. He tries to fight it but there’s no use as he feels it bubbling inside his chest and then – he’s laughing with you. Lightly at first but then his cackles reach the same pitch as yours.

The moment holds its little infinity for a while and then your laughter begins to die down – shoulders still shaking slightly as you come down.

You melt into the seat, head turning slightly as you glance at him, his eyes glassy as he begins to come down, too. He does the same, head dropping a little to the side until his eyes meet yours. This side of him makes you feel light – your chest fluttery, on a steady ascend and you never want to come down.

He stills. That soft blink, warm smile making your head spin – now drunk on how ethereal he looks. Not only him, but his whole essence. So pliant, so soft. A soul that finds laughter contagious. You can physically feel your heart contract at this. It hurts, tugging at your every string in the sweetest way possible.

“What was so funny?” He murmurs, that smile never faltering – only getting impossibly softer.

“I don’t remember,” you say, even though you do. You just can’t bring your brain to process any other thought that isn’t him. Him and his big, doe eyes and the way the night reflects on them. Him and his light.

He hums, absentmindedly. The silence that fills the car is dense but you welcome it. You both do as your fingers begin tracing irregular patterns on the leather seats, right between the two of you. They move mindlessly and your eyes close, wishing with all your heart it was his skin under your touch. You can hear the steady rise and fall of his breathing and you just wish he’d come closer – close enough to get lost in yours.

Your mouth voices out your wishes, encompassing them in an ever-so-soft,

“Please.”

And Jungkook can’t think straight.

He hasn’t been able to think straight since your laughter filled the closed space of his car, crawling inside his chest and settling in places he didn’t even know still carried themselves in screaming colour.

His mind had lost all composure the moment you looked into his eyes as if they carried the whole galaxy in them. Since that moment, his heart had taken on the lead.

He moves closer to you, sliding against the leather seats. He does this so swiftly you only notice when your eyes slowly flutter open, butterflies swarming your tummy as your wish grants itself before your eyes.

You give him a dopey smile, pulling yourself closer to him until you’re both a breath away from touching. You wish for that breath, too.

Your fingers dance from the now tight-knit space between you to his legs, slowly moving up his thigh, the tips of your index and middle finger beginning a stroll with no apparent direction. Jungkook can barely feel your touch against the thick fabric of his jeans but the thought alone sends shivers down his spine, shutting his eyes closed for a moment as he tries to gather all the sensations he’s feeling. As he tries to reason with his rational mind and his heart.

All his thoughts come back to you.

His hand hovers over your thigh for a second and, before he can attest to his actions, they close around it – feeling the smooth of your skin, promptly joined by a million goosebumps as your body gives into his touch. He squeezes slightly, unable to control himself. Unable to control the ardent need to have you impossibly closer, to imprint his touch on you until you can feel it for days.

Your hand flies to his cheek, cupping it gently as you let yourself stare into his eyes – hoping they can speak your desire with words that shy away from you the more real the moment becomes. He keens into your touch, face nuzzling into your hand, lips grazing at the soft skin of your palm. He closes his eyes as you run your nails gently down the smooth of his cheek, the sensation making him squeeze your thigh harder, making your whole body shudder as a whimper leaves your mouth. The faint sound has him opening his eyes and they begin a slow dance between your gaze and your lips, back and forth until the feeling at the pit of your stomach grows unbearable. You move an inch closer, pulling his face to yours with the hand that stills on his cheek.

“___,” his voice is but a whisper, “you’re- drunk. We shouldn’t.”

He exhales loudly and as much as you want to give him a detailed recount on how his touch activated all of your senses to the point of sobering you up, you don’t.

“Okay, just… stay here? Please?” you say.

He leans his head forward until your foreheads are touching, nodding slowly as he closes his eyes and lets himself go – falling into your touch and enjoying the way you feel as you melt into his.

Your hands snake all the way to his hair, tangling in his locks – realizing just how much you missed how receptive he is when you touch him there. Your nails scrape down his scalp, softly – an idle touch that does more to Jungkook than he can begin to grasp. His hand comes up to rest at the small of your waist, snaking his arm around it, pushing you closer. You feel restless – a need that doubles as greed at this point invading your senses, begging for him. You pull at his hair slightly and he hisses – so close to your mouth you can feel the vibrations of the sound graze your lips.

“Fuck, ___-,”

The sound of the front door frightens the both of you – jumping abruptly at the sound. It takes Jungkook three seconds too long to register what’s happening but when he does, he removes his hand from around your waist and, in a collected manner, goes back to his seat.

He thanks the driver as he passes him the food, and places it on the floor between the two of you.

You sit there, motionless – trying to absorb the previous moment before it completely drifts from your mind. Like a needle to a soapy bubble. Gone in a second.

You can’t figure out if your heart is restored or bent all over again.

You feel Jungkook shuffle closer to you until he’s flushed to your side. Before you can utter a word, his arm comes up, reaching across your body for the seatbelt before he pulls it down, safely strapping you into the seat. You think he’s about to pull away again but his forehead comes to rest against your temple, your breath hitches in your throat at the mere contact.

“I’m sorry,” he exhales into the soft of your cheek, nose nuzzling against it for a second before his warmth leaves your skin.

You can feel your heartbeat pounce against your every pulse point, erratically threatening to leave its safe space. But despite its restless temper the answer comes to you clearly.

It’s restored.

~

Your head pounds against your skull as your eyes begin to flutter open – the god-awful hangover you can already feel kicking at your nerves as you adapt to the light that shines through your window. You have a bad habit of not closing your blinds before going to bed and today, it’s a problem.

You lay there, staring at the ceiling as you try to steady the beat of your heart at the recollection of last night’s events. At the mere thought of it – of his face, so painfully close to yours, his eyes taking you in, his touch on your skin – the butterflies settle back into what seems to be their favourite place lately.

It’s hard to put a feeling so ethereal into words. You wonder how it’s possible for something so delicate to hold such complexity yet at the same time for it to feel like the easiest thing in the world.

Jungkook is, without a doubt, an enigma. All the blind spots in a puzzle that feels impossible to bind together yet when it fits, the way your bodies found each other’s yesterday, it falls into the big picture seamlessly.

You’re mad at your brain for not letting you fully enjoy the light, soaring feeling of your heart – the way you feel warm all over when you think of his face. The same face your gaze held impossibly close yesterday. Every single mole on his honey skin, the way your mind fell in a trance, an endless game of connect the dots as you held a particular focus for every single one. It’s the closest you’ve felt to adoration and as you pulled him closer, you decided you wanted to do just that to him.

Adore him.

You groan, hands coming to cover your face as you try to collect yourself, falling back into the sensical scheme of things. The reality – your reality.

You need coffee and fresh air – a much needed walk in the park with a, presumably, loved-up roommate and best friend. Who, most likely probably, has one hell of a story to tell.

You get up from your bed, making your way to the closet as you retrieve a pair of biker shorts and a beat-up vintage Rolling Stones shirt you found in a garage sale for a fiver. It is your comfort shirt and immediately, its superstitious effect soothes you.

You make a pit stop in the kitchen, brewing some coffee and fixing it just the way Lucy likes it – warm and sweet, a little drizzle of cinnamon at the top. You smile, remembering the way hers shone last night. You throw a handful of ice on your own cup before you grab them both and head to her bedroom.

“Good morning, lover.” You say.

She’s wide awake, resting on her side, cheek flushed to her hand as she smiles at her phone screen that she holds awfully close to her face.

“Hi,” her answer is brief but her tone of voice is laced with a sweetness you don’t miss.

“One to ten?”

“Ten,” she ponders for a minute, “thousand.”

You gasp, a shriek leaving your lips as her giggles join your excitement.

“What? Oh my- wait. What are you doing in your own bed? Is he- is he somewhere in here?” You begin scanning the room frantically.

She rolls her eyes playfully. “Where exactly would I hide a full Jimin in here, ___?”

You visibly melt at the softness her voice takes at the mention of his name.

“I need to know. Everything.” You place the coffees in her nightstand before you’re jumping inside her covers as she makes room for you – both your arms resting in her soft pillows, head cocked in the palm of your hands.

“Wait- you’re not mad?” She wonders, voice a tone nervous.

“Why would I be mad, Lu?”

“Because, you know… he’s Jungkook’s best friend.”

You shake your head softly, smiling at her before you reassure her, “No. I’m not mad. How could I ever be? You look so happy.”

“After the bar, we went to that diner – the one close to the library. We walked all the way there, too. He held my hand and…,” her eyes glisten and your heart flutters a bit. “It felt… right. We sat in a booth and talked. For hours on end. I could hear his voice forever.”

“Oh, Lu…” you lay flat on your back, staring at the ceiling. “Tell me more.”

“He kissed me.” She mimics your previous move. “I’ve never been kissed like that. I’ve never felt so… wanted. He broke down walls I didn’t even know I had, ___.”

Your hand reaches for hers, intertwining your fingers together.

“All this time I thought I had an idea of… love that was so unrealistic. I didn’t think it could happen, let alone to me. But he’s the closest thing to it. He’s so real.”

You think about your years of friendship with Lucy. The way you’ve witnessed as she’s changed, matured, grown out of beliefs and ideas that once kept her innocent – young. Yet the one thing she didn’t ever let go of is the idea that she was deserving of a love so strong, so striking from the very beginning.

If it’s not a hell yes then it’s a hell no, she would say, after countless disappointments that left her picking up shattered little pieces of heart as she gave them all so transparently, with a vulnerability you admired.

“He’s your hell yes.” You tell her.

She smiles, nodding her head. “I didn’t… tell him that, you know, I’ve never been with someone… like that. But I wanted to. I wanted him. Yet when the moment transitioned and it could’ve gone further than a kiss, he told me he didn’t want it to be like that. He said there was no rush. That we could take our time. That if I let him, he could literally lay me in a bed of roses.” She giggles, a bit shy at voicing out the memory.

You turn to her. “Lucy, I’m not going to have to resort to re-reading Norwegian Wood for a fix of romance. I have my very own starstruck one right next door!”

Your loud laughs fill the room and it settles down the air of uncertainty around you.

“He feels like every romance novel I’ve ever read. And more.”

~

A shiver runs down your spine, making you shudder. You don’t quite know if the cause is the abnormal chill that breezes through the summer morning or the nerves that brew at the pit of your stomach, traveling all the way up your throat, making you feel a bit sick.

You stand in front of Jungkook’s front door, waiting for the door to open – Mrs. Chae’s soft features offering you a smile, the smell of dark coffee, the glossy morning dew that adorns the green grass. Anything to make this routine you’ve adapted for the past two months feel familiar – normal. To give you the comfort of what becomes the ordinary once you settle into its steady rhythm.

The comfort, however, does not come.

When Mrs. Chae opens the door, her soft features are slightly fallen, as if she was immensely drawn into a restless train of thought. Soori is in her arms, abnormally quiet for her usual cheerful morning state.

You frown, taking her in your arms as her little body leans forward, grabby arms reaching for you.

“Hey, princess. What are you doing here, huh?” You coo, placing a soft peck on top of her forehead.

“Good morning, ___.” Mrs. Chae says, that warm smile back in its place.

“Good morning, Mrs. Chae. Did she have breakfast already?” You ask her, bouncing Soori in your hold a little, emitting a giggle from her. There she is.

“Not yet, no. Mr. Jungkook has asked me to tell you to meet him in his office.”

“Oh. Sure, let me just-”

“Now.” She senses your discomfort as you wince slightly at her words and she softens, “as in, as soon as you got here.”

“Okay. I’ll… just go then.” You say, placing Soori back in her arms before you turn around, heading the way that leads to the long hallway.

You glance back as you hear Soori’s faint whines behind you, fidgeting in Mrs. Chae’s hold as her tiny fists open and close in your direction.

You’re scared.

You don’t know exactly what to expect – a plethora of intrusive thoughts had been overwhelming you all weekend, trying to make out just how Jungkook would navigate about the whole situation.

Before he dropped you off, you had turned to him, waiting for him to say something – anything, to settle the nerves that were already starting to blossom as you became aware of just how far the line between wonder and temptation had been crossed this time.

The look in his eyes had been gentle, understanding even. Letting you know that he, too, was trying to make sense of it. It made you feel hopeful, to think that maybe, just maybe, he’d be willing to hold onto your moment for longer, to let you in as you both figured it out. Together. But your heart sank as his gaze dropped, voice back to that frivolous nature you’d reluctantly accustomed to.

‘See you Monday,’ is all he said.

Monday found you in front of the door to his office, hands shaky as you mustered the strength to finally knock on it.

You do – a couple of seconds of hesitation before you decide that it’s inevitable. Whatever happens, it’s all inevitable.

“Come in,” you hear his voice from the inside, a little muffled but already, the sound of it makes your shoulders drop, bracing yourself for the worst.

“Morning,” you say, closing the door before you lean against it, hands still behind you gripping onto the doorknob.

“Good morning.” His eyes remain glued to the stack of paperwork that sits in front of him for what feels like an eternity. He looks up at you, his head leaning to the side a bit – something you’ve noticed he does out of habit when he’s lost in thought.

“Are you going to fire me,” you run your words, an agitated ring to them.

He just stares at you but nothing in his dark irises give way to what exactly he’s about to say next and this makes you all the more nervous. He senses it, the way your chest heaves rapidly, shoulders tensed.

“No.” You look up at him, a mix of shock and relief taking on your expression. “Sit down, please.”

Your steps are somewhat lethargic, the initial nerve not having fully died down and now simply merging into another type of worry. Once you finally settle into your seat, your eyes lock with his.

“Jungkook,” you begin.

“We’ve crossed… a lot of boundaries. I want to apologize for that.”

His words feel like a stab, right at your heart. Sharp, cold, shooting pain through all your nerve endings. It hurts – thinking he sees what you did as something worth apologizing for. A mistake. It hurts and breaks and there’s nothing more than you want to do than ask him to take it back.

“There is nothing to apologize for, I- wanted it. I want-”

“I think we got carried away. We misinterpreted a lot of things. It’s not real, ___. It was all just a side effect of… curiosity.”

You.

He continues, looking away from your eyes. He fears that if he lets himself get lost in them for yet another minute he might break. He might finally lace all the words they hold together and he might just have to coincide with them.

He rather his own not tell you their truth, either.

You remain silent.

“I don’t want Soori to lose you, ___. We- can’t afford to lose you. You’re good for her and that is the most important thing to me. So… this can’t happen again. I hope I’ve made it clear.” He adds, eyes cold as they meet yours once again. You look away, fearing you might give into the impending tears.

“You won’t. Lose me, I mean." It takes you a minute but your eyes land back on his – hurt evident in them but something else Jungkook had yet to become familiar with. A void that unsettles him. “And yes. You’ve made it very clear.”

His eyes on you break you further – second by second. He just stares and it makes you angry. His carelessness makes you angry. His very little courage to try.

But your heart doesn’t let that feeling linger – it doesn’t let you put him in such light. You think of his own heartbreak, the same one that landed you in his door. You truly are a side effect, but not of curiosity, no. You are a side effect of the most painful thing to ever happen to him.

The realization settles upon you – shattering your heart, its fragility taking you aback as all the sense you make of the situation doubles as broken glass, breaking at your skin as you grasp at them.

It isn’t real. It never was. You have been the consequence of a loss of control. His heart walked away and you walked in. It never was real because he’d never see you as more than that.

“Can I go now,” you ask and he simply nods.

You don’t look back when you walk away and you might all of your courage in order to collect yourself.

For Soori.

And even if with half a heart, for him.

~

Her light is contagious and you’re grateful for it.

As the hours drag along you let yourself be softened by Soori’s laughter, her ever-green wonder, her loud baby babble that makes you wonder what exactly goes on in that head of hers.

She’s so loved. She’s so needed.

She’s the heart-mender and she doesn’t even know.

You rock her to sleep, chuckling a little as you look down at her, only to find her eyes wide open looking up at you – no hint of sleepiness in them.

“Hey, you. Go to sleep, missy. When you wake up, we’re going to eat and read and play.” She smiles at you, two tiny front teeth peeking. “We can have some of those dino nuggets your daddy’s afraid of because they’re non-gm-something.” She giggles at your words, nuzzling closer to your chest, lulling herself to sleep with the faint beat of your heart.

You bring her closer and when she falls, body growing heavier in your arms, you let yourself hold her for a little longer.

You can smell him on her.

Love is fragile but not futile, as opposed to feelings.

You break, letting yourself quietly cry as you sway her from side to side.

~

The pressure building in his knuckles as they land on the punching-bag is painful but Jungkook can’t risk gloved hands with a speedy Soori on the loose.

He looks down at her, sat in her play mat that is spread on the grass, a diverse selection of all of her favourite toys laid down in front of her. She doesn’t seem to be too interested, though. Tugging the fabric of her shirt up as she pokes her belly button in total awe.

Jungkook smiles at the sight, giggling softly to himself as to not break her out of her most recent discovery.

He’s proud of himself – of the way he’s managed to make their weekends worthwhile. It might sound ridiculous but he puts an exuberant amount of pressure on himself to keep his eleven-month-old entertained. He still hasn’t figured out if it’s hard or a belly-button-poking type of easy. So, he tries many things – some fancy some simple. She seems to enjoy the simpler things in life, though – her favourite being the water and this one pink rubber ducky that’s seen better days.

They’ve done it all this Saturday. Having woken up bright and early, made a mess out of the kitchen in a highly successful attempt at making French toast – another new favourite for Soori – and swimming in the pool, rubber ducky included.

He enjoys her company and he likes to believe she enjoys his.

Jungkook finds comfort in how hands-on he has to be with her new found mobility. She’s quick and sneaky and requires his full attention so she’d been doing an excellent job at keeping Jungkook distracted from the calamity of his own thoughts.

It’d been two weeks since your talk.

He’d done it all. Everything in his book to run away from his feelings. Even more – everything he could think of to ignore how restless he felt.

To the blind eye – nothing seemed to have changed. Morning kitchen meetings, doorway goodbyes, Soori falling into his arms in the same place he’d left her in and then you were gone until it was time to do it all over again the next day.

But, to Jungkook, nothing held your warmth – the light he’d grown used to. The one he didn’t quite realized he looked forward to every morning until it stopped keeping him warm.

You both did a stellar job at hiding it, though. Keeping on civil smiles and brief greetings – only letting yourselves linger on the eye contact for long enough so as to not dissipate the distance that you’d put within yourselves.

He throws a hard punch, not quite realizing the harshness of the action. It startles Soori, eyes coming to look at her dad in total confusion, chin quivering in the wake of a cry.

“No, no, baby. I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” he picks her up, bringing her close to him. “No more of that, okay? It’s done. It’s bye-bye.” He presses his lips to her temple as she calms down.

He feels stuck in a grey spot. Unknown. It makes him feel uneasy, just so fucking restless. His curiosity never died down and it’s then that it dawns upon him – he never let you in enough to know what the pain of losing you would actually be like. To know enough about you as to miss you – need you.

If the void in his chest is big enough to fit his longing now, he can’t imagine what it’d be like to know you enough to love you.

He reaches for his pocket, retrieving his phone. He unlocks it – pulse racing as he dials.

“Hey, Ggukie. Talk to me.” Taehyung’s voice rings against the speakers.

“I need your help.”

~

You’re being swarmed by little arms, tucking you in their embrace as they tickle you.

You pretend to squirm and attempt to release yourself from their hold, gasping in surprise as their loud giggles fill the room.

“Okay, okay. Free Miss ___.” You say but it is a lost cause as a troop of very determined kids try to seek revenge for the tickle attack they’d ensued from you a couple of minutes prior.

Dae is the first one to break free – his voice loud and excited as he says, “Uncle Jungoo!”

You freeze. Looking to your side to directly meet his eyes. He wears Soori in a baby carrier, a pretty yin and yang design adorning the front. He gives you a small smile. You don’t quite return it but you don’t divert your gaze from his. You smile at Soori, though, who’s jumping in his hold at the sight of you.

You walk closer to them, smiling at Taehyung as Dae jumps into his arms, showing him the drawing he’d painted during his free time.

“This is amazing, bud. You’re such an artiste. Mommy and daddy are going to have to start displaying your work in the gallery, huh?” He says, earning himself a big, crooked grin from Dae who nods enthusiastically. “Hey, ___.”

“Hey, he did so well today.” You say, smiling at Dae.

Soori shrieks, in need of your attention. You turn to her, smiling wide before you come to play with her little hands that stick from either side of the carrier.

“Hey, baby girl. What a nice surprise,” you coo, coming to plant soft kisses on her plump cheeks.

“Hey…” Jungkook says, voice low.

“Hey.”

“Can we- um… can I talk to you?”

“Sure.”

Taehyung grabs Soori from the carrier and helps Jungkook strap himself free, shooting you a warm smile before you’re both turning around, heading for a quieter space in the library, walking through the high shelves stacked with books.

“How are you,” he starts. He sounds nervous and it unsettles you.

“I’m fine. What’s wrong? Why are you here?”

“I’m sorry.” He says, your cold stare has his mind running around in circles. All the courage he’d mustered to come here fading away.

“For what exactly? I think you’ve apologized for your so-called mistakes already. No need to do that again.”

“I don’t think we got nearly close to making a mistake.”

You scoff. “Did we not? it seemed that’s all you saw it as back then, though.”

“Because it might be, ___.” He defends, voice growing exasperated.

“What do you know?” You whisper, tone harsh.

“I know enough. About mistakes and where they land you. How they feel like once you’re left cleaning up the mess they make.”

“Well, it’s good we didn’t fully commit to said mistake now, isn’t it?” Your words are venomous and they take you by surprise – but above all, they’re laced with pain. So much pain.

“Maybe it’s good. Maybe it’s bad.”

“I can’t with the back and forth anymore, Jungkook. What did you come here to tell me?”

“I can’t live with not knowing.” He starts, “I want to know. The mistake has been made. It was made the moment I let myself look at you, really see you. And it was made the moment I let you see me.”

You tried to suppress them but a fresh set of tears pool in your eyes – making your eyes shiny. It tugs at Jungkook’s heart and he wants nothing more than to hold you.

You surrender, letting yourself weaken before him. “Please – stop calling it a mistake. That’s so unfair, Jungkook.”

“You’re not understanding me, ___. Mistakes – fuck. They rule this world. It’s the one constant in this life. You’re bound to make them. What I’m saying is that… they can turn out to be the best- the best thing to ever happen to you.”

He thinks of Soori.

Of the day he met Ira.

He thinks of how big of a mistake he thought he was making when he hired you.

“Why are you so afraid of making them, then?”

He huffs, shaking his head. “That can’t be further from the truth.”

“So, it’s just me then. I’m the one mistake you’re not willing to make.”

“You’re the mistake that terrifies me the most. The very one that tests all of my rationality.”

You look at him. Holding his gaze, eyes not faltering once. His chest flutters – the way it hadn’t done in a while because you haven’t looked at him like this since that night in the backseat of his car.

It takes you a moment but you break your silence, a soft whisper – one last attempt.

“Then let go. Free the rationality from your actions and… treat me the way you would if you only listened to your heart.”

Your gaze falls to the floor, fearing having to look at him as your heart breaks all over again.

You don’t see him take a step towards you. You only feel his index finger, coming to rest under your chin before he tilts it upwards – slowly. Letting himself look for your gaze. When he finds it you’re met with starry eyes. The galaxies, his light.

You think he’s about to pull away when his hand travels to the back of your neck, pulling you closer in one swift, determined movement. Your mouth barely lets out the gasp that forms in your throat before he’s crashing his lips into yours. Arms snaking around your waist, flushing his chest to yours – two heartbeats finally blending together. Mending together.

You fall into him, knees weakened, a light feel to your bones as your arms entangle around his neck, leaning your head to the side as you melt into his lips, parting your mouth to welcome his tongue, falling into the dance of his kiss.

It’s your hands on the soft, warm skin in the back of his neck.

And the feel of his pink bottom lip tucked in between yours.

It’s his body leaning forwards as yours falls backwards, his big hands enclosing around your waist, holding you to him.

Every feeling intensifies and shoots straight to your heart – settling in your chest, your heartbeat thundering against it until you can feel it in your throat, merging with all the words that you’ve reserved just for him and this moment since the minute your soul subconsciously leaped onto his – sealing a pact unbeknownst to you at the time.

It’s your heart, on his lips.

That’s what the world tastes like.

~

YEP. i literally went “now kiss.” AND I AM SO HAPPY ABOUT IT! i feel like all the words i’ve put into this story have amounted to this moment right here and i cant wait to keep navigating their relationship. it's real guys. it's happening. i hope you are happy too! also, team JUCY y’all won. honestly from the beginning of chapter two i was like YOONGI. YOONGI’S HER BOY. but tbh i like to make y’all happy and ALSO jiminie got me with his dumb jokes on the last one too lol. two hopeless romantics. i want what they have. i really hope u enjoyed this one and that your hearts are well. i can’t explain how much i appreciate the love and i am sending it right back. do let me know what u thought – love talking to u guys. xxxxxx

~

★taglist★

“Good morning.” Jungkook’s voice startles you.

You gasp, a noise he can barely register, quickly coming to stand up from the awkward kneeling position he’d found you in on the floor.

“What are you doing up,” your question is brass and he raises his brow at you, amusement evident on his face. “Morning, I mean- uh… it’s early.”

He lets out a faint chuckle, allowing himself to take you in. Sleep hasn’t fully rubbed off from your face – your hair’s a bit ruffly, eyes still puffy, and he can make up the creases from the pillow on your cheek. You fidget slightly, shivering from the morning cold. He notices you’re barefoot, balancing yourself from one foot to the other to escape the chilly feeling of the tiles. His eyes travel up and as much as he tries to fight it, he can’t help but observe how quickly you’ve taken the sun on your skin, a layer of golden hues adorning your legs that makes you glow when enhanced with the early stages of the morning sun that reflect off the balcony window.

This is where his eyes should stop at, he knows. But they don’t. They continue the dance upwards in such a seamless way it takes Jungkook a second to realize this is the first time he’s ever perceived you in such light. Your pyjama shorts are so small they’d be laughable if his brain wasn’t fighting with how little you’re leaving to his imagination, and the fabric of your tank top is worn out enough to be sheer. He knows you don’t intend to but the way you’re holding your journal to you is pushing up at your breasts that, once again, do him no favours with the visual the low-cut baby tee provides.

Stop.

“I wanted to have some coffee before Soori’s up,” he says and you nod. “You?”

Your gaze falls down and you fidget again. “I wanted to watch the sunrise.”

“Good,” he says because if he lets himself speak any further the words would be far different. ‘Cute’ the one echoing in his head. “Do you want some coffee?”

“That’d be nice. Thank you.”

The sound of the Nespresso machine kick-starting takes you by surprise, startling you once again. He chuckles at this.

“Jumpy this morning, aren’t we?”

“It’s awfully noisy for something that claims to be top-notch technology,” you defend.

“What? You’re telling me you brew your coffee every morning?” His voice doubles on patronizing but in reality, he’s just curious – amazed even.

“It tastes better.”

“It also takes double the time.”

You raise a brow, tentatively. “I like to take my time in the mornings.”

You’ve won this round because all Jungkook can do is stare at you. He stares and he mentally scolds himself for the effect your words have on him. For the places his mind goes. Why he found himself twisting such innocent words is beyond him but he can’t quite tame them down. He doesn’t like the loss of control yet he wonders why he keeps welcoming it.

He hums and you silently take your victory. You walk closer to the kitchen counter, gently placing your journal on top of it. The swirls of the marble of the smooth surface contrasting against the leather where your fingers trace the uneven shape of a star, over and over again.

And if the world was a person, how would it sound like, smell like, look like, feel like… taste like?

It’s way too early in the morning to quieten down your thoughts. It’s way too early in the morning to pretend his eyes on you didn’t send shivers down your spine, butterflies to your tummy, aggressive flutters to your chest.

Jeon Jungkook is not the world. But he sure as hell resembles all of its beauty and stark. It’s never-ending paradox, the way it starts and stops at any given moment. The way everything is temporary but has you wishing it wasn’t.

Reference.

Coffee, you decide. The world would smell like coffee and a mix of the clean but soft laundry detergent and the faint cedarwood you can sometimes make out when in his proximity. You can smell it on Soori in the mornings when he passes her over to you – the soft baby smell of her head and Jungkook’s cologne on her clothes after having her in his arms.

He turns around and places a cup of coffee in front of you and you try to lock the smell of this particular one somewhere in your head. You thank him, giving him a smile.

“You’re welcome. I’ll make sure to brew it next time.” His voice is raspy and playful and lacks the edge it usually sports.

It’s comfort, you think. The world sounds like comfort. The morning bliss of that time of day where the world hasn’t picked its pace yet – nothing feels heavy and you navigate through the stillness and pleasures of its quiet nature.

“You know… I grind my coffee beans, too.” You tease.

He smiles before narrowing his eyes at you. “Now you’re just abusing my kindness.”

Soori’s baby monitor beeps, signalling that she’s starting to wake up.

“I can go get her,” you say.

“No, no. I’ll go.” He says, already making his way to her nursery.

You can hear him coo at her from the nursery – a soft voice, easing her into wakefulness. She’s quiet for a minute until she lets out that excited shriek you’ve come to realize she reserves for Jungkook.

A couple of minutes later they come out of the room. Her silky hair’s a mess and Jungkook keeps running his hands over it to try to tame it down. You laugh a little and her eyes snap up, a big smile forming at the sight of you. She offers you her giraffe which, in Soori language, is the best greeting there is. You walk over to her, grabbing her cheeks in your hands and bringing her face closer to you before you plant a kiss on her forehead.

“Good morning, princess.” You coo.

Jungkook bounces her a little, a soft baby voice when he says, “we’re very ready to fill that tummy up this morning, aren’t we, baby?” he brings her whole body to his face, blowing raspberries on her little belly. Her loud giggles fill the room as you walk to the kitchen to make her bottle.

“Thank you,” he says and you simply smile.

They head to the couch and he props her on top of a pillow, his body coming to rest against the cushions as he gets comfortable, too. From the kitchen you can take in the view pretty well. The way he strokes her face as he whispers things to her you can’t make out, her tiny baby babble almost as if trying to engage in conversation. He nuzzles his face next to hers and lets out a surprised shriek of his own when she tugs at his hair, tight grip on it, giggling at his evident pain.

You walk over to them and softly grab a hold of her little hand, releasing the big lock of hair she’d captured in it.

“Thank you,” he laughs. “How is she so strong?”

“She’s super baby. Right, Soo?” you say, passing Jungkook the bottle.

“Yes, she is.” He looks fondly at her, so much love in his eyes it’s almost contagious. She makes grabby hands at her bottle and he chuckles before complying. “Enjoy your food, baby.”

You let yourself stare at them for a second. Her chubby hand on top of his inked one that holds her bottle, their gazes never leaving one another – her eyes a carbon copy of his own. The love he gives her settles in your chest, a selfless feeling that softens it before it makes it feel airy – giddy almost.

Her gaze locks on the bottle for a little too long and she goes a little cross-eyed. Jungkook laughs at this – nose scrunching up, bunny teeth on display, full tenderness falling on his features.

This is what it would look like, you conclude – the world.

~

Jungkook’s friends are an army of adults that only look like adults because of the number of kids they seem to be either chasing after or keeping entertained. Your mouth gapes in slight surprise as you take in the sight before you as you enter the restaurant.

Soori is in your arms as you follow behind Jungkook, who’s being swarmed by his friends in various congratulatory praises over the new hotel and a couple of teasing over how he’s all grown up now. It’s a cute sight to see and you can’t help but chuckle softly as you see him get flustered by all the attention, a faint blush tinting his cheeks.

You spot Mai, whose smile widens at the sight of you.

“___!” She says, running towards you before pulling you in a hug, Soori included. “And my favorite girl. Hi baby Blue.” You pass Soori to her, who jumps in excitement. “So glad to see you. The both of you.”

“You too, Mai.” You say, eyes still accommodating to all the new faces.

“Ha, you’ll get used to it, don’t worry.” She reassures once she senses your overwhelm.

Truth is, you thought Mai and Taehyung and their bubbly, welcoming personalities were an exception in Jungkook’s life. At times, it left you wondering just how they’d ever come to meet and bond considering their contrasting natures. But a quick scan across the room has you realizing that perhaps that exception multiplied. It even leaves you wondering if it was never an exception to begin with – if he connected with these people because he, too, was bubbly and welcoming once. The thought alone makes you wince in surprise. Mai laughs besides you.

“Here,” she starts, “let me give you the run down. We’ve all known each other since high school – I know, crazy. Well, with the exception of some. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves, shall we?” You simply nod. “That’s Jin – Ggukie’s cousin. He’s also super involved in the hotels, and whatnot. And that’s Suelgi, his wife. They preached a whole lot about how they didn’t want any children but God must’ve found that funny because they sorta slipped and ended up having twins.” She smiles, pointing at a little boy and a girl, a perfect copy and paste of one another, currently being chased down by two men. “Hye and Haneul. They’re five.”

“Looks like the cutest slip up to me,” you say.

“Without a doubt,” she nods. “The two clowns keeping those two busy are Jimin and Yoongi – bachelors of the group. That’s a nice way of saying very single. But they couldn’t be more different. One’s a hopeless romantic and the other enjoys his solitude and sleeps too much. I’ll let you make your guesses.”

You let out a chuckle. “Not to judge a book by its cover but I think the pink hair gives Jimin away.”

“Correct. Moving on, that’s Namjoon and Iseul. High school sweethearts with parenting skills that puts Discovery, Home & Health to shame. They’re currently raising the future president and Dae’s favourite human, Sun. Yes, like the Sun. She’s six and smart beyond her years.” She points to the little girl, curly hair framing her delicate features as she patiently helps Dae colour in what looks like a Mandala.

You smile. “I like her name.”

“She lives up to it,” she returns. “Last but certainly not least, that’s Hobi and Kenny, his girlfriend. If the face rings a bell don’t worry, she’s got a pretty famous one. She’s a model. They’ve been together for a while and I, for one, can’t wait for them to reproduce because I mean, look at those genes. Beautiful babies.” She says the last part a little louder as she notices Kenny listening in on the conversation.

“Wow… you’re all so…-”

“Disparate?” Mai asks, a playful tone lacing her words.

You chuckle softly. “Maybe.”

“Not what you were expecting, huh?”

“No. Jungkook is just so…,” you stop yourself, not wanting to overstep or cross the line of professionality.

But there’s no such line in Mai’s eyes. “He’s not. Like that, I mean. He’s not… this. He is bubbly. Probably bubblier than all of us combined at times. And kind. Generous. The biggest goofball, hence why he’s the favourite uncle. And Soori’s a perfect mirror of that… of him. All her goodness… that’s him.”

Mai words affect you more than she probably realizes. It’s the way she talks about him. The way that your eyes look for him in the crowded room and find him next to Sun, colouring with Dae in his lap. That smile in his face that becomes unshakable when he’s surrounded by pure, unadulterated love. You’ve come to realize that smile holds an omnipresent power that settles in places you can’t quite reach – and it grows, grows, grows. It grows until your heart feels fragile. A fragility that makes you susceptible to the world around you. To the way things look, smell, sound like. A vulnerability that takes in everything as if it was the very first time – a growing curiosity that tugs at your heart in wonder. What does it feel like, what does it taste like?

“I just hope… I hope I can be of help.” Is all you can muster.

“I think you are. I think you will be. More than you’ll probably imagine.”

~

Jungkook’s eyes narrow down at his friends. From his spot on the table next to Sun and Dae, he has a clear view of the sneaky little circle they’ve formed in his absence. He follows their line of vision slowly until his eyes land on you. Soori’s playmat had been laid down on the floor and Mai and Kenny had joined you as you all played with Soori and engaged in conversation.

“Hey, I’ll be right back okay, buddy? You’re doing so well. I love the colours.” He tells Dae as he gently places him back on the chair. He only nods, full focus on his Mandala.

He walks over to his friends, coming to a stand right next to them. Only they seem to not really notice his presence.

He snaps his fingers once. “Hey, you bunch of troglodytes. Quit it.”

“Can she babysit for me?”

“Jimin, you don’t have any kids,” Namjoon says, his eyes still glued to you.

“It’s me. I’m the kid.”

Jungkook’s flat palm comes up, promptly hitting him in the back of the head. “Shut up.”

Hobi snorts. “He’s only joking, Ggukie. Don’t get too jealous.”

“I’m not jealous, you idiots. She’s Soori’s nanny. Don’t be creepy.”

Jin finally turns to Jungkook, face contorting in confusion before he asks, “wait. How old is she?”

“Twenty-three.” Taehyung replies, sipping leisurely on a mimosa.

“Ah! Then go in peace, Gguk.” Jin says.

He scoffs. “Go in- what is that supposed to mean?”

“Jungkook, don’t be dense.” Yoongi’s voice is monotone as he speaks. “Contrary to your filthy beliefs we were commenting on how good she’s with Soori.”

“Where’s your head, Jungkookie, hm?” Taehyung teases.

“Nowhere.” He says, defensively.

“Yeah, right.” Yoongi murmurs.

Hobi puts an arm around Jungkook, whispering, “although we won’t judge if, you know, your mind is going to filthy places.”

“Stop objectifying her.” Jungkook doesn’t miss the protective tone that takes over his voice.

Jimin’s eyes snap to Jungkook. “Oh. Oh… shit. Okay. There goes my chance. Got it dude.”

“Yeah,” Taehyung huffs.

Jungkook rolls his eyes at them, waving his hand dismissively.

He tries not to think about it. He tries not to think about his friends pointing out how gentle you are with Soori. How much she seems to love you. He tries to ignore the other attributes they insinuate on.

Jungkook tries, and tries, and tries but with every glance in your direction, with every inevitable pull, with every ounce of subjectivity masked by objectivity… he fails.

~

You’d pretty much been Jungkook’s shadow all day. From overseeing the final details before the inauguration, lunch with his parents, a tour of the, might you add, impressive premises all the way to the speeches over bubbly champagne and watching him cut the ribbon.

It was eye catching, you’ll admit. The pretty dresses and the bigger-than-life feeling of it all. It was a star-studded event and you don’t miss how easily he attracts them. The stars.

He fits so well in this world. Navigating it with ease, mastering the art of the small talk. The business talk. The politics talk.

There’s not a country he can’t attest for when it comes to the greatness of the world. Not a culture he hasn’t been exposed to in order to appease his highly diverse crowd. The way he talks is captivating and you find yourself staring with the same awe as those who are just now experiencing his pull.

When you excuse yourself for the night so you can put Soori to bed you can’t shake off that feeling. The awe.

He not only amazes you but inspires you. And you know his heart is fully invested in what he does because what the fuck do you care about hotels, and politics and stocks?

No – what inspires you is his passion. The drive and giddiness that you could make out in his voice when he was on his fiftieth thank you of the night. Showered with praises but ever so humble.

Ever so human.

And that’s exactly what you’re hit with next.

Because stars burn, too.

You’re about to make your way to the kitchen, throat dry in need of water. It’s just a little past midnight and you’d been enjoying the comfort of the hotel bed and a good Murakami story.

Your foot’s halfway out the door when the sound of the card reader beeping freezes you in your spot.

You can make out footsteps and heels clinking against the shiny floors. And although you can’t see the scene that unfolds next, you can hear it.

“Ggukie, have some water,” a gentle voice you recognize as Kenny’s fills the room.

“I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not.” Hobi returns.

“Fuck, I just- I hate it. I hate how she’s still the topic of conversation. ‘How’s Irie,’” he mimics in a whiny voice.

Kenny sighs. “They’ve no idea, Gguk. Nobody does, she just- fuck. Disappeared. I get asked about her every day. During every shoot, every dinner party.”

Jungkook’s words are slurred when he says, “and when Soori starts asking questions. Then what?”

“You’ll tell her the truth.” Hobi answers.

Jungkook scoffs at his response. “I can’t do that. I can’t tell her, ‘Oh yeah mommy left because she didn’t- she couldn’t… love you…’”

Dense silence fills the room and your heart sinks at his words.

Hobi exhales loudly, sounding slightly defeated.

“You’ll love her enough for the both of you. You already do.”

~

It’d been a week since you’d come back from the trip.

A week since you’d been let in on a small percentage of what you’d walked right into when you started working for Jungkook.

You still don’t know the details but so far, the story doesn’t sound very promising.

You sit at the park with Lucy, fidgeting with the hem of your dress. Your thoughts must be loud as hell because Lucy sighs in desperation, making you look up at her.

“Don’t do the thing,” she says.

“What thing?”

“The thing where your heart takes on somebody else’s pain entirely.”

“You do the thing, too.” You defend.

“And that’s exactly why I’m telling you not to do the thing.” She retorts.

“What if I already did the thing?”

Lucy stares at you for a moment before she shakes her head slowly.

“You’re in… deep shit, to put it lightly.”

“And that’s code word for…?”

“Love.”

You huff at this, “I’m not in love with him. What do you mean?”

“I know that you know better than to think you’re not walking a dangerously close line to the word you spew at with such dismissal.”

“I just… feel for him. And for Soori. I feel for her. She doesn’t deserve that.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I was referring to her, too.”

~

You tap the end of your pen repeatedly on the blank page of your journal. Tap, tap, tap. You check the time – 4:15 pm. Soori had gone down for her nap only fifteen minutes ago, a little later than usual because she’d been fussy and wanted to be held.

This morning when Jungkook had walked inside the kitchen you noticed how it wasn’t accompanied by her cheerful babble. Instead, her eyes were glassy and she held onto her father for dear life, not even lightning up at the prospect of pancakes.

She’d been in obvious discomfort and was running a little bit of a temperature. Jungkook had called the doctor and he reassured him it was nothing to worry about right away. He was still hesitant about leaving her, especially considering how avidly her tears flowed during doorway goodbyes. But he had meetings back-to-back about the progression of his new hotel that required his presence. So, he’d left, eyes as glassy as hers and with a promise from you to give him hourly updates and call immediately if anything even slightly worsened.

When you’d put Soori down after she’d finally fallen asleep nothing seemed to be any different from this morning. If anything, you were glad she’d finally gone down – hoping she could sleep off whatever bug she’d caught. But when you kissed her forehead before putting her down on her crib your lips had felt the warmth on her delicate skin. You thought it was her usual body heat or maybe the fact she’d snuggled up against your chest as you rocked her back and forth. But now it plagues your thoughts, nervous at the idea that it could be something worse.

You set your pen down, promptly closing your journal before tossing it to the side as you stand up from the couch and begin to make your way up the stairs all the way to her nursery. Your hands are a bit shaky – she’s never gotten sick before from what Jungkook has told you, let alone under your care.

You open the door to her nursery, quietly making your way over to the foot of her crib. She’s sound asleep and you can see the rise and fall of her little chest. You sigh a breath of relief.

Your hand comes down to her face, placing the back of your fingers on her forehead gently. She’s scolding hot under your touch, so much so you jerk your hand back instinctively.

“Fuck.” You murmur under your breath, hands quickly coming to unlock your phone before you’re scrolling down frantically, searching for Jungkook’s number.

Two rings.

“Hello?” He sounds frantic, too.

“Jungkook. You have to come home. Now.”

“What’s wrong? What happened, ___?”

“Soori’s burning, I- I think she has a fever. I- I don’t know but, I think it’s bad, I-” You’re stuttering, voice shaking.

“___, stop. Stop.” He says and you can hear movement in the background, footsteps accompanied by faraway voices. “Can you drive?”

“Huh?”

“I need you to check the address that I’m sending you right now. It’s the hospital. Soori’s head paediatrician will be waiting for you there. Can you drive?”

“Uh- yes. Yes, I can drive.”

“I’ll be there in twenty.”

Your next steps are precise and snappy, yet you feel like the world has fallen into slow motion around you. You grab Soori, holding her in your arms as she begins to wake up, fidgeting in your hold as whines start escaping her little mouth. Her diaper bag is as packed as it will be considering you’re just trying to get the two of you out the door as soon as possible. Still, you do a quick run over of its contents before you decide nothing too important is missing. Extra pacifier, diapers, a change of clothes, wipes – good enough.

You rush down the stairs – Soori’s cries are just getting louder, but you don’t lose focus as you grab your own bag and retrieve the keys from the keyholder on the wall of the doorway. You look down at them, an MB insignia carved onto it tells you as much as you have to know before you’re out the door, making your way to the white car.

You strap Soori into the pink car seat at the back, double checking she’s safely trapped in before you walk back to the driver’s seat. You grab your phone, clicking on the address Jungkook has sent you so that Google Maps can pan out the route. He’s sent the name of the doctor along with a, ‘___, drive safe.’

Your hands grip the steering wheel as you try to ground yourself.

Keys. Ignition. Why are there so many fucking buttons?

You take a deep inhale, focusing.

Push to start.

~

Jungkook can’t quite make out time and space. Everything feels like a blur as he navigates through the city traffic – cursing every single driver that takes up the lanes on his way to the hospital.

He parks in a space that’s probably too narrow for his car but he can’t give an ounce of a fuck right now, exiting the vehicle and sprinting all the way to the entrance.

The sterile white of the walls nearly resemble heaven to him as the sliding doors come to an open and an air of relief settles through him.

He wills another sprint all the way to the reception, breathily letting out a, “Soori. Jeon Soori. I’m her father – she just checked in.”

The lady in front of the computer just stares at him for a second too long for Jungkook’s taste and before he can rain hellfire on her a nurse walks over to him, a gentle smile on her face before she says, “here, follow me.”

“How is she?”

“I checked her in. She was running a pretty high fever so we hooked her to an IV and started her on some Motrin. We suspect she might have an infection, so we’re running tests to cancel out anything serious.”

Jungkook’s heart sinks at her words – the image of Soori being poked around with needles filling him with the same unease she must’ve felt. He thinks about how he wasn’t there to hold her through it – tears begin to pool at the corner of his eyes.

The nurse opens the door and lets him in first.

You’re the first thing he sees – your back to him as you stand in front of the window, Soori’s body is lax in your arms as you sway her from side to side. Her little face rests in the crook between your neck and shoulder and he can see her sniffle back some leftover tears. Your nails caress lightly at her scalp.

You’re singing to her.

You see I’ve forgotten if they’re… green or they’re Blue.

Anyways the thing is

What I really mean

Yours are the sweetest eyes… I’ve ever seen…

Jungkook walks inside the room, the sound of his footsteps startling Soori. You come to a halt, turning around – a loud sigh leaving your mouth at the sight of him.

“Hey, baby… hey Soori girl,” he walks over to you, hands reaching for Soori who falls into them almost immediately. The tiny cries that leave her lips sound more relieved than anything and they break Jungkook’s heart all over again. “I’m so sorry, baby. I’m so sorry for leaving. I’m here. Daddy’s here, okay? You’re alright. I love you so much.”

His voice soothes her and he doesn’t stop showering her with his sweet reassurance until she’s calmed down again – her body relaxing against his chest as she drifts sleepily. It reminds Jungkook of when she was a newborn and another set of tears threaten to release at the mere thought. He lets them – bringing his cheek to hers and letting himself just hold her.

He’s so scared. He’s so scared as he feels the heat her body gives out. Scared seeing the needle that sticks out from her small hand. Scared as he sits down and waits for the doctor, swaying her back and forth even though she’s fallen asleep in his arms already.

Your voice brings him back.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. You did everything right,” he meets your eyes, voice barely a whisper, “thank you. For getting her here safe. And being with her.”

“Of course.”

Both your eyes snap towards the door as the doctor knocks twice before coming in.

“Jungkookie,” he says, an endearment lacing his voice that has you frowning in confusion.

“Mr. Park. Is she okay?”

“She will be, son. You have nothing to worry about. I’m afraid she caught an ear infection. It must’ve happened at the beach – little ones are more susceptible to it. But we’ll start her on antibiotics right away. She’ll bounce right back, you’ll see.”

Jungkook lets out a breath he’d been holding since he parted ways with his daughter this morning – a sigh of relief easing the tension in his entire body.

“Thank you. Thank you so much.” He says.

“You’re a good dad, Jungkook-ah. She’s a happy, healthy kid.”

Jungkook only nods, face falling at the unshakable guilt he feels for not being there for Soori when she needed him the most.

“And you,” he says, meeting your eyes, “you did a good job getting her here fast. People tend to oversee fevers in little ones, thinking their bodies react the same way as ours. I’m glad she got here on time.”

You nod, his words making you feel more uneasy than comfortable at the thought of anything happening to Soori had you not checked up on her when you did.

“When can I take her home,” Jungkook asks.

“We’ll have her hooked on the IV for a little bit longer. I’ll write you the prescription for the antibiotics and we can check her out. She’ll be a little loopy for the rest of today – just make sure she rests well and eats good.”

“Will do, sir. Thank you again. I- I appreciate it.”

“Call me if anything, you know where to reach me.” Jungkook nods. The doctor’s halfway out the door when he turns back around, “oh, and congratulations on the opening of the new hotel. Jiminie told me is by far your best work. We’re proud of you, Jungkook.”

Ah… makes sense now.

“Come see it for yourself one day? On me.”

Mr. Park gives him a genuine smile, nodding in affirmation before he’s out the door.

~

Soori is fast asleep in Jungkook’s arms as the three of you walk past the doorway, entering his home. Sighs of relief falling past both of your lips. The synchronised action makes you turn to one another, sharing a small smile as you realize.

“I’m gonna go put her down,” he says and you nod, walking closer to him and placing a soft kiss on one of her plump cheeks.

As Jungkook makes his way up the stairs you walk to the living room – it looks a little bit of a mess. There’s an array of toys and books you’d retrieved from her playroom in an attempt to keep her happy through her discomfort at being so sick throughout the day. You begin tidying up, putting things back into their respective baskets and stacking up her favourite books to place back into the shelves.

It’s twenty past seven and Lucy has been calling you repeatedly, worried over the fact you haven’t made it back yet. You shoot her a text, letting her know you’re safe and that you will fill her in as soon as you’re home.

The day has felt both long and not long enough considering everything that happened. And even though Soori is safe and free of any harm, the nervousness that took over you when her wellbeing was in jeopardy still lingers. Her loud cries when the needle went past her little fist still echo in your head, tearing at your heart once again. That moment had you realizing just how little she is. How helpless.

Jungkook’s face when he held her in his arms, both their eyes covered in tears, also haunts you. The pain in his face – the guilt and disappointment towards himself. His voice telling her how sorry he was more devastating than you can possibly put into words and you want nothing more than to never have to see that pained expression take over his features again.

On neither of them.

After a while, Jungkook makes his way down the stairs – making up your shadow from a distance as he sees you grab one of Soori’s baskets from the floor. The room is only lit by a floor lamp on the far end corner of the living room.

“Leave it. I’ll clean it tomorrow. You’ve done enough.”

You turn to him; his voice is soft – exhaustion evident in it.

“It’s okay, I can just-”

“Please, ___...” he pleads.

“Okay…”

He makes his way to the sofa, sitting down on the edge as his elbows come to rest on his legs, face falling into his hands. You can hear his heavy inhales – his breathing still shaky.

“Thank you. I-” but Jungkook can’t find the words. He can’t find the words to explain how much it means to him that his daughter was in the arms of someone she trusts today. Someone that held her and swayed her in the way that only a few people know relaxes her. In the arms of someone that sang to her to calm her nerves.

“Thank you for trusting me,” is all you say and he looks up at you, slightly bewildered at your words.

Your eyes hold a kindness in them that confuses Jungkook for a second before his heart falls into the fragility that the day has put him in. He looks at you – at your empathy, and he breaks. Tears pool in the corner of his eyes and his lips quiver, face falling onto his hands again.

You take a step closer, standing before him. You’re caught between not knowing what to do and wanting to do anything it takes to ease his pain. To let him know that it’s okay. That everything will be okay. That the worst has passed – today and weeks back, when this cloud of sorrow settled onto him. When his heart broke and convinced him it’d never mend again.

But it scares you. It scares you to not know if his vulnerability is a side effect of the day or him actually letting you in. Still, your hand reaches out slowly, shaky fingers resting on top of his head before they bend, caressing his scalp softly. It feels impersonal and not enough but you hope the touch speaks its nature.

He stills for a second, shoulders tensing as he makes up your gentle touch. But it feels so good and comforting he pushes all thoughts aside and keens at it, letting himself bask in it.

“Gguk,” his eyes snap open, looking up at you, surprised at your use of the pet name. You ignore it, keeping a soft demeanour as you say, “she’s going to be okay. And you’re a good dad.”

He sniffles back tears, nodding lightly at your words. “It’s just… I’m the only thing she has in this world. It’s- it’s me. Only me-” his voice fills itself with exasperation, words stuttering as he grows anxious once again.

His words yank at your heart and your hands come to a stop; fingers still tangled in his hair.

“Hey, look at me. Please, look at me.” His gaze finds yours and you cock your head to the side to take him in better. Before you can second guess your actions, your hand falls on his cheek, cupping it gently. “I don’t know much about parenting… and I can’t even begin to understand your fears. I’m just an spectator but, Jungkook, all of your goodness is imprinted in her. So, if you’re all she has then I’d say she’s so very lucky.”

He stares up at you, processing your words. He can feel his heartbeat thumping in his eardrums and, at a loss of speech, he simply grabs your hand that rests gently on his cheek, intwining his fingers with yours. He holds it like fine china, its softness resembling it. You never once break eye contact – not when he blinks slowly at you. Not when he leans backwards, pulling you closer to him until your hands come to rest at his shoulders and both your knees hit the velvety fabric of the sofa, coming to rest at either side of him. Your dress hikes up your thighs, but you don’t seem to care.

Your mind goes blank and the only thing you see is him. The only thing you can see is him as you sit down on the firm muscles of his thighs. His hands hold at your wrists – eyes still locked on yours.

“I-” he begins.

“Can I- let me hold you,” you ask and he can’t deny you.

He can’t deny you when your eyes hold everything he needs to alleviate his pain in them.

So, he nods softly and you fall into him. Chest flushed to his, arms around his neck, your fingers finding the tangles of his hair once again. His arms falter for a second but eventually, he wraps them around your waist. It’s ever so gently, almost like he’s scared. But you brave enough courage for the both of you as you nuzzle your head in his hair, lips hovering over his ear.

He shifts slightly under you, allowing your bodies to melt into one another’s even more – your hips angled perfectly against his and his breathing fans directly at your collarbone, sending a shiver down your spine that has you rolling your hips against his involuntarily. It’s miniscule but you feel him. You feel him and the whimper that leaves your mouth falls right into his ear – a breathy little noise that has his whole body breaking out in goosebumps.

Jungkook knows if he lets himself fall any further, he’ll cross a line that he won’t be able to come back from. So, he wills all the strength in the world he can gather for himself and holds your waist, pushing you away slowly.

“Thank you,” he musters. And he hopes you’re able to read all the undertones messages the sentence holds.

You nod at him – that compassion never leaving your eyes and he has to fight with all of his morals to not pull you into him again and hold you.

But before his hands can betray him, you push yourself from his lap, coming to stand in front of him once again.

He can barely make out your smile in the darkness of the vast room, but he knows it’s there.

You take one last glance at him, hoping rationality will settle into you. Hoping your senses will snap back into place. But it doesn’t happen. Or maybe it does, they just follow a whole new set of beliefs.

That is it, you think.

That’s what the world feels like.

~

“Hold up,” Yoongi pinches the bridge of his nose, setting his beer down on top of the coffee table. “You fucked your nanny?”

“No. She just… straddled my lap,” Jungkook says this as if it was the most casual thing in the world.

They’d been in the middle of mindlessly watching some game on the tv – the rest of his friends scattered around Jungkook’s backyard as they enjoyed the leisure of a summery Sunday BBQ.

Taehyung leans forward, “so you… dry humped your nanny.”

“No. It wasn’t sexual. She just-" held me, “hugged me. It’d been one hell of a day- for the both of us.”

“Did you kiss?” Yoongi asks.

“No.”

“Did you want to?” Taehyung adds.

Jungkook looks down at his fingers, fidgeting with them for a second. He doesn’t meet their eyes. “No.”

“Jungkook-ah,” Yoongi tries to level with him.

“I am an adult. A father. I think I’m able to reason without my dick getting in the way.” He huffs.

“So, you did want to,” Taehyung says, ignoring the way his friends’ eyes narrow at him

“I-,” yes. “No.”

“Then what do you have to reason with?” Yoongi says, making Taehyung snort at his quick comeback.

“She’s the nanny,” Jungkook tries to sound dismissive, a defence mechanism so he doesn’t slip further into the whirlwind of feelings threatening to burst in his chest anytime now.

“Don’t be an asshole. She’s not just the nanny. She’s nice. And smart. And friendly. Also, your kid loves her.” Taehyung remarks, narrowing his eyes at him.

Yoongi nods. “Plus – she’s attractive. No, more like, you’re attracted to her. So, tone it down.”

Jungkook sneers and Taehyung rolls his eyes at his immaturity.

“You’re so used to having to put up a fight just to get half of the love you give out. If you don’t start giving into the goodness of people, Jungkookie… you’re gonna run out of love to give.” Taehyung tells him.

“Or worse – you’re just gonna stop giving it.”

~

Now, regardless of what his titles and demeanour might exude, Jeon Jungkook does not get off on ego trips. You know, the ones that require an exuberant amount of control on everything and everyone – including oneself.

He’s successful in his work because he’s confident. Control is not something he has to go an extra mile for – it’s just how he’s wired. It’s an almost automatic mental response when faced with adversities and the need to problem solve. But he also knows that when this is applied to matters of the heart, it can be a bit of a recipe for disaster.

Truth is, Jungkook is an easy-going person. He doesn’t focus too much on the vagueness of his thoughts. Hell, at times he doesn’t even focus on the profound ones. He likes to play a lot of his game by instinct, confident he has enough knowledge to execute accordingly.

And that’s the thing. When you know better, you do better.

But why the hell can’t he take his own advice right now?

Because Jungkook knows better. He knows better than to let his thoughts get anywhere near his feelings, where, consequently, he’d find himself unable to act accordingly. Because Jungkook can have a lot of game in his field of expertise but he’s no wiser than the common folk when it comes to taming feelings. He knows this, too.

He gets himself ready for bed with a heavy head, loud with all the thinking he seems to be doing. It doesn’t have a means to an end, his train of thought. He hasn’t been able to draw one single conclusion and that is usually his queue to let go, move on. But he can’t.

And perhaps the thing that scares him the most about his train of thought is how uneasy it doesn’t make him. How when he drifts, really drifts, his incessant thinking land him in waves of something so close to comfort, ease. How he can feel the fogginess of uncertainty quickly take shape, forming a cloud of peace that tempts him to stay basked in its bliss.

He stares in the mirror and confronts the reflection. Urging it to compose itself.

And perhaps the reason why he can’t accept said cloud of comfort is because the skies haven’t quite cleared for Jungkook. The storm hasn’t quite passed, leaving the air heavy, stuffy and grey at times.

Also, because said comfort is giving him the hots for his nanny.

Enough.

He shakes his head, as if to rid himself of his thoughts, and walks out of the bathroom.

He’s tired and his bed has never looked more inviting as he forms a mountain of pillows against the headboard. The prospect of night-time TV has him way too excited and he winces at the thought. But as much as it shocks him, how much of the dad stereotype he’s fallen into, it doesn’t stop him from indulging in it.

He throws himself on top of pillow mountain and grabs his iPad, browsing through the endless options of channels before realizing he should just go full out today. The Cooking Channel. His lips form a smile when the big screen of his tv zooms in on a perfectly shaped round cake that’s being decorated by colourful layers of fondant. The delicate hands mold and smooth out the sugary coat and Jungkook is so focused on it he barely blinks.

Tracy from The Cooking Channel finishes covering the whole cake by smoothing out the edges and cutting out the excess – the shot pans out to a seamlessly covered cake.

“Oof,” Jungkook says to himself, “that’s better than sex.”

His brain lets his innocent little comment slide for approximately three minutes before it decides to fixate on it.

Sex.

Jungkook hates the effect that word has on him – as if he was a hormonal teenager getting riled up in the middle of sex ed by the mere mention of the act, threatening in the least conventional of settings to be sporting a hardon.

The Cooking Channel isn’t conventional either.

But Jungkook knows that’s not where his head is going.

He brushes it off, lowering the volume before he turns to his side, nuzzling himself into the softness of his pillows, ready to be lulled to sleep by pastry talk.

He tosses and turns and forces his eyes to stay shut so as to trick his brain into thinking the drowsy feeling is the early stages of falling into a deep slumber, and most certainly not all of his blood falling to his dick.

He groans in utter desperation, sliding down from the cushiony pillows until he’s laying flat on his back, eyes glued to the ceiling. He throws one arm over his face and the other makes a slow descend down the soft fabric of his hoodie, past the thick duvet, until it reaches its destination. He palms himself over his sweatpants, hard. He doesn’t quite know with what purpose but it does him no favours to release the tension that only seems to be growing at a quicker pace.

He feels himself, half hard, and with half a mind, his hand comes past the elastic of his sweats and the barrier of his Calvin’s until it wraps fully around his cock. He hisses at the contact, a whine leaving his lips in both relief and want. He strokes once, starting to feel himself in fullness – thick around his fingers as he tightens his grip. His index finger travels upwards, and with his free hand he brings the suffocating layers down his legs, stopping at his thighs. Once freed his eyes fixate on how his thumb toys with his slit, a bead of precum building up at the tip at the overstimulation. He hasn’t felt physical pleasure from himself, or anyone, in months. Every touch feels like it’s wired with electricity.

The flat of his palm grazes along his tip, collecting the sticky lubrication before it wraps around it. But he’s impossibly hard and it’s not enough and before he can register the lewdness of his actions his hand comes up, cock jumping at the loss of friction. He collects the build-up saliva in his mouth and spits on his hand, kicking at the duvet until he’s free from the thighs up, hard cock resting against his stomach.

He closes his fist around his member, head pressing down against the mattress at the upstroke. He takes his time with his ministrations, teasing himself, squeezing at the base when he feels the pressure build up on his lower stomach. Fuck, it feels so good. It feels so good to feel again – something so intense other than pain. It makes Jungkook head spin as he brings his other hand down and tugs on his balls – gentle but firm, a throaty moan escaping his lips at the feeling, the heaviness of his impending release.

“Agh- fuck,” his chest rises and falls at the rhythm of his pants, breath caught in his throat as his touch takes his mind places he’d dare not go before.

He free-falls into the weakness of his thoughts. He free-falls right into his desire. A desire that has him seeing you. He sees you just the way he wants you right now as he tightens his hand around his cock, pace picking up, wrist twisting at the head and then slowing. Again, and again.

And it’s you. He sees you and he doesn’t try to fight it. He thinks about the way you smell – the scent so gentle yet comforting when his head nuzzled into the crook of your neck. He thinks of the way you pulled him closer, holding him. He thinks of the butterflies you sent right to his belly when your hips lightly rutted against his – the faint whimper that left your lips at the feel.

He thinks about holding you in place, pushing you down on him until far prettier sounds leave your pretty lips. Fuck, your lips. Right next to his ear, close to his cheek. On his lips. Wrapped around his cock. He can feel it pulsing against the curve of his palm. He’s leaking – a sticky mess forming at his lower belly and the sight alone is so arousing it threatens to have him blowing his load right then and there.

But he edges himself, squeezing at his base once again. He wants to think about making a mess out of you for a bit longer. He wants to enjoy the limited function of his brain that can’t form sense into him – only lust. For your body, the sound of your voice, your mind. The way you look at the world, reminding him so much of simpler times.

He thinks about the curves of your body, the round of your tits. The way your chest felt pressed against his – your body warmth.

He wants you so bad. The realization hits him like a ton of bricks and his desire grows feral in his chest, down his hard stomach that caves in as his pumps become more languid with every stroke.

He thinks about what it would feel like to hold you the way he did the other night – no layers between your bodies this time. He’d take you slow and swallow every moan that fell from your lips into his, his big hands at the small of your waist setting a rhythm that’d double as torturous but he’d take it. He’d take it if it meant to be able to feel all of you – every ridge, every edge of your body. All of you wrapped around him.

That last visual sends him over the edge. He pulls his sweatshirt up, hands fisting around the fabric as he squeezes at the angry crown of his swollen cock, releasing all over his stomach – a string of grunts and curses leaving his lips before his teeth press onto his bottom one, locking in his pleasure.

His movements come to a halt as he winces in overstimulation, his cock twitching as his hold weakens, his entire body relaxing against the soft of the mattress again.

“Fuck…,”

His post-orgasmic bliss settles into him and he runs a hand through his dark locks, deep breaths steading the rise and fall of his chest as he gives into the heavy feel of his eyelids, slow blinks bringing him down from his previous agitation. He came so fucking hard his knees feel like jelly. A lazy smile tugs at his lips at the realization.

But said bliss is short-lived, like most good things in life, as another realization sets upon him. The same one responsible for his current state.

“Fuck.”

~

am i ~sweating? yes i am. i said GGUKIE SELF LOVE! ggukie self care 😌. as he should. king! anyways, i really hope you enjoyed this one and that you look forward to the next one because, like, don’t make me say it. sexy juices. anyways. let me know what you thought! i love talking to y’all!! i’m sending a milli forehead kisses your way as always! xxxx <3

~

★taglist★

You drift.

Hold me closer tiny dancer, count the headlights on the highway…

Elton all but screams at you. Well, that has you jumping from the warmth of your bed.

6:18 – time to wake up. You’re not a morning person and neither are you a night owl but, a sudden burst of inspiration found you sat at your desk until way past midnight. By the time you went to bed it took you a good thirty more minutes to fall asleep. Constantly disrupted by the drunk party goers that were making their way back home from wherever the night had taken them. Youth and Tuesday nights, you remember those. You could’ve just closed the window but the chilly breeze coming from it felt like summer. You did it in the name of nostalgia.

So, it is due to your late night writing à la Bukowski that you find yourself running into every piece of furniture you stumble upon, eyes still half closed, incessantly rubbing at them to let them know it was time to adult. You try to wake your brain up, too, but all it does is demand coffee.

And coffee you shall get. The smell hits your nose before anything can hit your eyesight but already, you’re lazily smiling at a blurry vision of Lucy from behind the kitchen counter. Her computer is in front of her and her eyes never leave the screen even as she feels you come in.

“Jeon Jungkook.” She half sing-songs, half affirms.

Are you sleep walking?

“Huh?”

She clears her throat and starts reading, “This year’s most eye-grabbing addition to Forbes 30 Under 30 list belongs to twenty-eight-year-old Jeon Jungkook. The young entrepreneur is the heir of the luxury chain of hotels, The West End.” Now you’re awake. She continues, “The high-end resorts have an ever-growing list of locations taking up the most coveted, bustling destinations all around the globe. Jungkook inherited his family’s legacy at the young age of twenty-four and has often been praised by his sharpness and boldness when it comes to business. His first duty as CEO and Chair of The West End Collection proved him more than capable, as he went on to re-brand its various hotels, location by location. His diligence and cut-throat ideas earned The West End a spike in stocks of up to 200%-”

“You are,” you interrupt her, fingers pressing at your temples for emphasis, “the nosiest person. Ever.”

“Okay so he’s rich. And smart. And in Forbes. But when where you going to tell me he looked like this?” She spins the laptop around in her hold, shoving it in your direction for dramatic effect.

And there he is, in all of his glory. Black suit over a black dress shirt. His hair a bit more tamed than it usually is on his day to day.

“I did tell you!” You protest.

“No, you did not. You said he looked like an angel. This man is a God.” She scoffs.

“Is this for me?” You ask, pointing at the cup of iced coffee sitting pretty on the kitchen counter.

“Well, it’s not for me.” She remarks, eyes still glued to the screen as you take a sip. “I found the baby mama, too.” She blurts out so fast it takes you a second to register it.

“Lucy.”

“What? It wasn’t that hard! She’s a model or something, if we’re going by anything Vogue has to say.”

At this, you give into the snooping. Your eyes divert to the screen and surely there she is. She looks just like what you’d expect at hearing her name alone. Ira Sommersmith. She’s beautiful, and the word alone cuts it short. Long blonde hair, dazzling smile, eyes looking away from the camera in that lost gaze model way. You’d look like a fool if you even attempted it. And you know because you’ve tried.

“Look, here’s them together. At some rich people party. Why is everyone wearing white? That’s a recipe for disaster if I’ve ever seen one.” Lucy says before changing the tabs, a picture of the two of them on the screen.

They look happy. He’s smiling at the camera and she’s smiling at him. It’s dated from two years ago. What happened? You can’t help but wonder.

“Wait a minute. Soori looks nothing like her. I don’t think she’s the baby mama,” you say, imitating the tone of suspense Lucy takes on when in conspiracy theory mode.

“No, no. She might be all daddy but that’s her baby. I read an article about it. Apparently, Ira went all MIA on social media shortly after the baby’s birth. She also went on a modelling hiatus.”

Her words sink into you. You try really hard not to pry, you do. You contain it as much as you can. But your brain can’t stop running in circles, that avid writer’s imagination of yours doing you no favours to inflict any sort of self-control.

“I want to go on a hiatus, too.” Lucy says, earning a loud cackle from you. “Not you, though. Come on, can’t be late for hot, heir, angel God, daddy Jeon Jungkook. Emphasis on the daddy.”

“Lucy!”

~

You’re in the bus on your way to the Jeon abode. Every morning dulls into afternoon in somewhat an identical rhythm. You don’t mind, though. You’ve come to find it comforting.

The bus ride is relaxing – there are not many people heading to the residential part of town this early in the morning, allowing you the commodities of not one but two seats all to yourself. You read, write or listen to music. Out the window, you start to make out the proximity of your destination as the pretty houses start to breeze past your line of vision. Every time the bus halts at a stop you’re able to take them in, full detail. You wonder if you’ll ever make it big enough to live in this side of town, in a pretty house of your own.

Your mind starts to float into that cloud of pink you call daydream. You picture a family. Do you want a big one?You don’t know. Kids are expensive. But, then again, if you can afford a house with more than one bathroom you reckon you could afford a couple of kids.

You picture Soori. As a reference, you tell yourself. She’s a cute baby, why wouldn’t you want a cute baby like her?

“But I don’t want this exact house!” You tell Lucy. A sea of magazines spread out around the two of you.

You’re in your tiny living room, coffee table pushed to the side as you invade the floors with glossy paper cut outs. You’re in vision board making mode, and even though you haven’t quite grasped the idea, it’s a fun Friday night activity. Also, you’re wine-drunk. Cheap wine-drunk.

“It’s for reference, ___.” Lucy says, accentuating every consonant, “it doesn’t have to be exactly what you want, as long as it encompasses the same energy.”

“You’re doing that thing where you throw big words at me when I’m drunk.”

“You’ll be fine as long as you don’t do that thing where you nod and pretend you understood. This is important, okay? We’re manifesting.” She returns.

Manifesting is her new favourite word.

You grab a wrinkled picture of a very shirtless Brad Pitt. The whole look of the image feels vintage. You'd grabbed a bunch of old magazines from the library that were due to be thrown out for the longest time now.

“So I won’t get 2003 Brad Pitt but!,” you start, shoving the picture in her face, “I will get a sexy, toned, tall, tanned and successful man that can sport low rise jeans like this?”

“Exactly.”

“Let’s manifest, baby!”

Reference. It’s important.

Sometimes it worries you how when you think about your future you don’t hold an ounce of desperation regarding it. People talk about goals and dreams but they never do it with the softness something promising should hold. It’s always with edge. Fear, uncertainty.

But you think you can amount your bliss to your lack of knowing. Truth is, beyond writing, there’s nothing that passions you enough to pursue. And society has already installed the notion in you that writing careers are in extinction. You’re not above fears. You just mentioned one. You just don’t attach your future to them. You’ll never stop writing, though. That’s your one sure-thing.

Your future doesn’t have to be panned out for you. You can dream by reference.

You’ll never own a touch screen doorbell, though. That’s just presumptuous.

You press on the screen of said reference you are not taking after. It’s 7:15 sharp – you’re a legend for this one, considering how much time Lucy’s snooping took out of your morning routine.

Every morning Mrs. Chae opens the door for you and this one is no different. Her sweet smile matches her sweet voice. Overall, she’s a sweet lady and you can tell Jungkook has a soft spot for her. She’s the one getting the big smiles around here, not you. But let’s not rush into that just yet.

“Good morning, ___.” She greets you with a tender smile.

“Good morning, Mrs. Chae. How are you today?”

“Oh, just wonderful. Come in, come in. Have you eaten?” She always asks you this, even if your answer is always the same.

“Yes, Mrs. Chae. Thank you for asking, though.”

“Young people these days!” she begins, “you don’t give breakfast the importance it deserves. Mr. Jungkook only has that coffee of his. And half of it is ice.” She whispers the last bit, almost as if she was letting you in on a secret.

“I’m sure Mr. Jungkook compensates with lunch, though.” You tell her and she smiles, nodding at this. You both know Mr. Jungkook can eat.

By the time your brief, but almost always comical, morning chat with Mrs. Chae is over, Jungkook is usually making his way inside the kitchen. This morning is no different either.

“Good morning,” he says, a pyjama clad Soori resting at his hip, giraffe plushie in hand that she repetitively smacks into her father’s chest.

“Good morning, Mr. Jungkook.” Mrs. Chae says, placing a tray in the kitchen counter in front of him, a single glass of iced americano.

“Morning,” you say, making your way to him. “Morning, pretty girl.” This is directed at Soori, who jumps excitedly in Jungkook’s hold at your words. She lets out some sweet unintelligible baby babble, “I agree.” You tell her and she giggles, her pacifier falling from her little mouth.

“She had her bottle about two hours ago so she should be ready for breakfast any time now.” Jungkook informs you, passing her to you, hand coming to caress at her little head once she’s in your arms.

“Perfect.” You turn to her, “what’s for brekky today? What about oatmeal? No cinnamon this time, promise.” Jungkook smiles. But it’s not directed at you. It usually never is.

Now, let’s not put him in total bad lighting. He’s civil, polite even. But he never humours you. And you’re funny. I mean, yes. Your track record is babies and toddlers and an easy-hearted Lucy but come on.

Soori laughs though, and it’s all that matters.

He’s almost done with his coffee. That was way too fast. You wish you could tell him but then again you wouldn’t. You still can’t decipher what’s worst – the attitude he was giving you on the day of the interview or the indifference he gives you every day.

You don’t think he necessarily hates you. In fact, you don’t even think he dislikes you. You just think he’s not very happy with the world right now and it reflects on pretty much anything that hits his line of vision.

Everything except Soori, though. She gets all the big smiles and praises and cuddles. So many cuddles.

Jungkook goes to the office most days but there are days when he stays home. He’s usually locked inside his office, immersed in paper work. But he always makes sure he’s out just as Soori starts getting fussy with hunger.

He makes her a bottle and lays her down in a plush pillow that doesn’t quite match the décor of the sofa. But it’s the Soori pillow, so it stays. She drinks her bottle, eyes glued to his as he talks to her. Most of the times you can’t make out what he’s saying but one time you did hear him give her a run-down of a business call he’d just had, his voice never losing the softness he saves for her. His Soori voice.

Sometimes both their eyes begin to get heavy with sleep and he rests his head next to her tummy, nuzzling his nose into it until she giggles and jerks under him.

It’s cute. And it tugs at all of your heartstrings. So much so you have to fight with every pull to not walk in front of him and tell him, ‘Hey Jungkook! You’re such a good dad! You’re doing great. Don’t be sad. Ever again, please!’

But you remember where you stand with him: sole professionality. You keep telling yourself this is fine by you. You still get to play with his cute baby for a living so who’s the real winner here?

You walk with him all the way to the front door so Soori can spend as much time with him as possible. He never asked for this but you started doing it anyway and you know he appreciates it.

“Alright, baby. Be good, okay? I love you. So much. I’ll see you soon.” You know the words by memory now. He litters kisses all over her soft cheeks, tickling her until she hides in the crook of your neck. He pulls away.

“Say bye-bye!” you tell her. She makes grabby hands at him. Bye-bye is a dreaded set of words.

You see him try to fight it but he breaks, grabbing her and hugging her to his chest. More kisses, this time all over her face.

“Okay. Daddy has to go. I love you.” He says and hands her back to you.

Her little mouth forms the most endearing pout, chin wrinkling and you know she’s about to cry. But you’re faster – your baby voice in full mode when you say, “No cry, Soo. Daddy will be back soon.”

Jungkook has turned around by the time the words leave your lips so, naturally, you miss the way his eyebrows come up so high they nearly touch his hairline and his steps falter a bit at your words. At the word.

And so, with that, your work day begins. It’s easy and you’re lucky – you know you are. You spend time with Soori, who happens to be a great companion. She’s easy going and tooth-ache inducing as her big starry eyes, courtesy of her father, are glued to you throughout the day.

You play with her and read her books you bring from the library, she’s a good source of research when it comes to testing out book club options. You already tried sticking to her age range but figured she’s advanced. Well, maybe you’re biased but she does get through the baby books fast, promptly losing interest. So, you read her the big kid books and that’s when she stills – her full attention on you as you read to her, putting on a show as you dramatize every scene.

Nap time usually finds you a bit bummed out that you have to part ways with her as you exit her nursery, lit only by twinkling stars adorning her ceiling, imitating a starry night sky. It’s pretty cool, you sort of wish you had one, too. You wonder if she’ll ever grow out of it. You hope she doesn’t.

You tidy up, read and write during this time – it stretches as plenty and you keep yourself entertained enough until it’s time to do it all over again.

You’re lucky, you think, realizing just how much you look forward to doing it all over again.

~

Jungkook is fond of you. He comes up with this conclusion as he parks his car in his driveway, the ignition coming to a stop as he unbuckles his seatbelt.

Jungkook is fond of you and he knows you don’t know this. He also knows it’s completely his fault. Hell, he even doubts his own friends still know he’s fond of them, if he’s being honest.

The thing about pain is that it doesn’t put other people’s happiness on hold. It doesn’t magically put a halt to the collective joy of the world just so one person can experience it in peace. A very far-fetched concept of peace, anyways.

He’s in pain but the world around him is sort of hitting him with an abrupt, ‘and what about it?’

It’s been four weeks since Ira left and the world has stopped suffering with him. His friends have gone back to their normal lives, his family stopped asking questions and Mrs. Chae stopped walking on eggshells around him. Even Soori has resumed her normal scheduled programming. She sleeps through the night, eats like she never made Jungkook cry in the bathroom more times than he’s willing to admit, and keeps growing up. Doing new things, leaving him in awe as she wonders about the world, taking it in.

She’s a happy baby and he knows it’s because she has a happy you by her side. So, he lets her bask in your aura, mirror your essence and that is enough for him. That is all that truly matters to him – her happiness.

As for him, your aura inflicts more heartbreak than it does healing. He doesn’t resent you for it or anything but he doesn’t give you the opening to shine your light into him either. He doesn’t know if its guilt or suffering – maybe it’s both. All he knows is that there is something about you that makes him feel profoundly unprepared to start living again.

So that’s why he remains impassive as you hand Soori back to him, ruffling her silky hair before giving her a kiss that has her keening at your touch.

“Bye, Jungkook.” You tell him, a smile adorning your face as always. Soori’s hold on your finger pulls you into them.

You stumble forwards and he takes a step backwards.

“Goodbye, ___.”

~

If it weren’t for his friends, Jungkook’s weekends would be spent stuck at home, sulking in between trying to keep Soori entertained with screen time she should not be consuming and his lame train of thought he sometimes shares with her. He runs her through his list of chores, movies he wants to watch, endless options of what they could have for lunch. You name it, she listens.

And that was all good at first – his friends had given him the space to mourn his loss, cry his tears and settle into his new dynamic as a family of two. But they wouldn’t be any good of friends if they’d let it drag on the moment they found him getting a little too comfortable with said sulking.

So now Jungkook tags along family outings that require him and Soori leave the house and put on outfits that are more weekend-casual, as opposed to the suits and pyjamas they sport throughout the week.

It’s easy to dress himself but Soori, on the other hand, is a feat that challenges his three-coloured-palette fashion senses. Her wardrobe is so colourful, filled with pastels and different prints. It suits her, it does. But Jungkook has no idea how to make all her clothes harmonize into one simple outfit. It used to be Ira’s job – one of the few ones she actually enjoyed.

He takes one last look at her before he unbuckles her seat belt, picking her up from her car seat before they start walking towards Mai and Taehyung. The streets are busy today – a sunny Saturday that has the city full of people, restaurant tables officially propped outside to welcome in the warmer weather.

Today’s attempt at matching has Mai throwing her head back in laughter as she takes in a very happy and oblivious Soori in. A pair of baby pink denim pants, green Kermit the Frog shirt Jungkook had gotten for her during a trip to New York and a yellow sweater. But the cherry on top of the cake was the shrunk down version of Jungkook’s favorite Balenciaga sneakers adorning her tiny feet.

“What?” Jungkook says, even though he knows exactly why she’s laughing.

Mai takes Soori from him, smacking her lips into her cheek in a loud kiss. “You’re lucky you’re so cute, Soori girl.” She beams at Mai’s affection, “is daddy on a steady road down colour blindness?” She still has her baby voice on. Soori laughs, a full pair of bottom teeth in full display.

Jungkook giggles at the sight but Mai doesn’t let him have it.

“Kermit the Frog? Really?” She says, voice lowering at him.

“She can rock it.”

“I agree,” Taehyung steps in, taking Soori from Mai’s arms. He throws her in the air, hands catching her swiftly at her descend. Loud baby giggles fall past her lips.

“That’s because you are actually colour blind.” Mai says.

“Baby, I’m not? I literally dress better than you.” He retorts, words not matching his sweet tone as his lips form a signature pout.

Before Mai can protest Jungkook steps in, “that’s enough, children. Let’s go get Dae, I’m starving.”

“Library’s around the corner, but it’s still five minutes ‘til pick up. He doesn’t like it when I’m early,” Mai returns.

“Yeah, because it’s not his super cool uncle picking him up.”

“Good point.” She gives in – it’s good to hear his witty remarks again, even if they run scarce.

As they turn the corner the library comes into view. They step inside and a peaceful silence fills the air. Jungkook finds it comforting. He thinks about how he hasn’t stepped foot inside a library since his college years. That can’t be good. Soori has been extra keen during bed time stories. She’d usually fidget a lot in his grasp as he swayed her back and forth in her rocking chair – it almost felt like a bonding moment he had to force into her. But lately she just lays back in his chest and listens to his voice as he narrates the stories. He’s also aware this is because of you.

He’d expected to see you but it still takes him by surprise. Maybe it’s the change in setting. This is the first time he’s seeing you outside his home. How you manage to grasp the attention of six children at the same time is beyond him, but there you are, reciting a story about crayons going on a strike. He spots Dae, mouth agape in awe as he listens to you attentively.

Mai walks forwards, hiding behind a book shelf and observing the sweet scene that unfolds as the kids discuss the story.

“That’s your nanny?” Taehyung says, voice a whisper.

“Yeah.”

“I mean, your life has always somewhat resembled a movie but this is beyond.” He laughs, a little too loudly, earning himself a scowling from Mai as she looks back at them.

Jungkook frowns. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Your nanny’s hot.” He tells his friend, unabashedly, “you are allowed to acknowledge objective attractiveness, you know?”

But before he can answer you’re wrapping up today’s session, turning to the kids and asking them if they enjoyed it. The loud cheers startle him a bit – he turns his head around as if making sure he was still in a library. The commotion is followed by a chorus of, ‘Yes, Miss ___.’

“Miss ___...” Taehyung sing-songs in a mock sultry voice, waggling his eyebrows at Jungkook.

“Shut up,” is all he says.

The kids get up, beginning to disperse, some coming to you for hugs or to sit at your lap to tell you things Jungkook can’t quite make up from a distance. They hand you books, offering their suggestions for next week’s book club and you accept them with a smile. You seem genuinely happy and excited – he finds it refreshing for some reason he can’t pin-point. Your nails are painted all a different colour, Jungkook notes. Toned down shades of yellow, green, blue, orange and pink. Maybe his colourful choice of an outfit for Soori wasn’t that far off. It looks good on you.

“Uncle Jungoo!” Dae’s voice breaks him from his trance and he comes to his knees, arms wide open as the little boy runs towards him. He picks him up in a hug once he crashes into his chest.

“Hi, buddy. Missed you.”

“Missed you, too.” His voice is sweet and Jungkook feels recharged already, his mood lifting. “Hi Soori Blue,” he says, turning to Soori.

“Soori Blue?” You ask, coming to stand in front of them.

“Hey, hey-” Taehyung is startled as Soori throws her entire body weight towards you, free-falling. Your reflexes don’t fail you and, thankfully, you catch her quickly. “Phew. You should be a baseball player.”

Jungkook is relieved to see her in your arms. For various reasons.

“She’s getting too fearless.” You say, shifting her around until she rests at the crook of your waist.

“I’m Taehyung, nice to meet you.” He extends his hand and you shake it.

“Nice to meet you, too. Dae has told me a lot about you.”

“Oh, likewise.”

“Hey,” Jungkook says, putting Dae on the floor.

“Uncle Jungoo, you know Miss ___?” The little boy asks, looking from you to Jungkook and back.

“Yes, buddy. She takes care of Soori when I’m away at work.”

“Wow, how cool!” He says and you smile at him.

“Come on, let’s get your backpack so we can go have pizza!” Taehyung says and that’s all it takes for Dae to run off excitedly.

“Kermit the Frog?” You ask, pulling down at Soori’s shirt to get a better look.

“Everybody keeps saying that.” He says, slightly irritated.

“I think it’s cool. But that’s because you’re the coolest. Aren’t you, Soo?” You coo at her.

“It’s her middle name,” he says, answering your previous question.

“Blue,” you state, looking at Soori. It fits her. “Cute.”

He simply nods.

Mai comes to you, warm smile adorning her face, “look who found you!” she tickles Soori’s tummy.

“A more than pleasant surprise,” you flush her plump cheek to yours.

“Hey, I love your dress.” Mai says. You look down at what you’re wearing. It’s a plain lilac dress. You thank her anyways. “Maybe you can give Ggukie some pointers.”

Dae calls for her and she excuses herself, leaving you and Jungkook alone once again. He’s a sight to behold today, that’s for sure. Out of his usual dark suits and dress shirts he looks even more youthful. A plain white shirt, somewhat oversized, resting a bit low over his collar bones. You have to mentally scold yourself for staring at his neck for that long. Light wash blue jeans with cuts at the thighs – Jeon Jungkook can dress his age.

Your next remark is inevitable.

“Ggukie, huh?” On a common day you wouldn’t dare joke around with him, let alone in such a condescending manner. But today you can’t help yourself.

“Miss ___, huh?” He jokes back. It leaves his mouth before he can process it and he regrets it immediately. What if you think it’s inappropriate?

But you laugh, chest fluttering a little at the fact he bit back. You give into the joke fully and say, “now who’s in charge?”

Jungkook hates how your words make his brain short circuit for a second too long. But he can’t help himself when his gaze meets yours and he gives you a smile. A big, genuine smile. Bunny teeth and everything. What a day.

He stares at you, taking you in. Taehyung’s words echo in the back of his head. He observes you with that objectivity he was talking about before. He sees it. It’s in your smile, he thinks. You smile with your whole face – it starts at your eyes, opening wide before they close in crescents, making the sides crinkle a bit. Your whole expression softens before it finally falls on your lips. Your lips which, objectively speaking, are full and cherry red. A natural pout to you that throws endearment into your every expression. You never fully look annoyed, he realizes. And it’s because of that pout.

But he knows there’s more besides objectivity when it comes to you. And before he allows his eyes to linger down your face to your body, he stops himself.

He cuts your moment short and gets back to business.

“I wanted to ask you if you’d be able to work this weekend?” He says, face back to his normal nonchalant expression it takes on around you. You pretend to ignore the way your heart sinks a little.

“Uh, sure. My friend Lucy can cover for me here at the library – the kids love her.”

“Great. It’s a short trip from Friday to Sunday. I have to attend the inauguration of my new resort. It’s only two hours away by plane.”

You don’t even have time to control the way your mouth drops, staring at him in utter confusion.

He remains unfazed.

~

“Jeon Jungkook is taking you on vacation?” Lucy asks, mouth parted in surprise.

“Lucy, no-” you start, but it’s to no avail.

“To the beach?!”

You haven’t even made it past the living room yet. Bag still over your shoulder, keys in hand. Lucy is buzzed for the early stages of a Saturday afternoon. She’d been perfecting her French baguette recipe and she simply could not not pair her success with an experience. So, she made a charcuterie board out of it. Red wine and everything – your glass had been placed in your hand the moment she opened the door.

“It is not a vacation. It is the inauguration of his new hotel. He wants Soori there so that throws me into the equation. By default.” You explain.

“Uh… it’s not even 1 pm, stop throwing his sexiness in my face by reminding me he owns hotels!” She huffs, pointing her index finger at you in a scolding manner.

“So, being drunk by noon is acceptable but don’t we dare throw sex in there?”

“Who said anything about sex?” her grin is wicked, to say the least.

“Lucy.”

“Hey, I am not to blame for the places your mind goes! But I’m also not one to blame you. I wouldn’t be any better at the prospect of seeing Jeon Jungkook in swim shorts.” You roll your eyes at this.

“I hate flying.”

“You’ve flown twice.”

“And I hated it.”

“You’re probably going to fly first class, courtesy of Mr. Jeon.”

“No,” you say, mind still fixated on your fear of heights, “we’re taking his plane.”

“What the fuck, ___?!”

~

Jungkook doesn’t think he’s ever seen you so quiet. And it’s not only the way you’re not trying to make small talk every chance you get the way you usually do. You’re eerily still, which is even more abnormal.

You’re both standing at the gates of the private airport, waiting for the SUV that will take you to his plane. Soori’s in his arms but she keeps trying to get your attention, offering you her plushie. When that doesn’t work, she attempts to hand you her pacifier – that doesn’t work either.

All through the short car ride you only get more nervous, leg bouncing in place as you stare out the window. A plane takes off in the distance and your eyes widen. You’re way too close. What if it just… fell down? You frown at your morbid thought.

As you step outside the SUV, you’re met directly with your means of transportation for the day. It’s a decent sized plane, creamy white with dark blue stripes grazing the middle. There’s a blue mat by the stairs that lead you to the entrance of the plane – the words The West End Collection written in white cursive letters. If your mind wasn’t too preoccupied with thoughts of how you feel like your life is nearing its end, you’d be able to form a witty remark on how presumptuous that is. But instead, you’re thinking about sending your mom a dramatic goodbye text. You know, just in case.

You hold tight onto the railing as you climb up the stairs, a bubbly air-hostess greeting the three of you as you step foot on the plane. The furniture in here looks more expensive than all of your belongings. Witty until the very end, you’ll claim that one.

“Welcome. Good morning, Mr. Jungkook. Miss Soori, long-time no see,” the air hostess coos at her. If Soori can do this, then you can, too. Right?

“Morning, Lydia. How’s the forecast looking today?” Jungkook asks, sitting Soori down in one of the cushiony seats.

“Blue skies ahead, Mr. Jungkook. A bit of wind up north will probably have us experiencing some turbulence through the second half of the trip, but it shouldn’t be too bad.”

You gulp. It’s loud enough to have them turning their heads, puzzled expressions searching for yours. You avoid their gazes.

Lydia senses your discomfort, though, and she walks over to you, motioning to one of the seats for you to sit down. You smile at her, unable to form many words. “Is there anything I can get you,” she asks.

“Huh?” You look up at her, eyes still a bit lost.

“Two iced americanos, please, Lydia.” Jungkook’s voice brings you back.

“Coming right up,” she says before turning around, making her way to the small kitchenette at the front of the plane.

Jungkook thinks about heading towards the back seats, his favourite single-sofa waiting for him. But he can clearly see the uneasiness you’re in and so he takes Soori in his arms, plopping them both in the seat in front of you.

“You okay,” he asks, looking for your gaze that seems to be fixed on nowhere in particular.

“I hate flying,” the words come out of you at speed lighting. “Well, I hate heights, more so.”

“Ahh,” but before Jungkook can find the words to calm down your nerves you hit him with a set of loaded ones.

“I also read somewhere that private flights amount to more deadly crashes than commercial ones do. Small planes are, statistically, more dangerous. As opposed to the big planes that are even safer than cars. Did you know that?” You’re word vomiting, something you do out of nervousness after your brain can’t tolerate stage one of fright: speechlessness.

Jungkook raises one brow at you, a small smile tugging at his lips and then he chuckles. Out of all your attempts at humouring him, this is what gets to him? He must be a sadist, you conclude.

“If Google says so…,” he says, a playful ring to his voice.

“It was a very reliable source.”

“They’re right.”

“What?” your voice shakes, you were hoping him and his big brain would refute your theory.

“Statistically, I mean. They are right. A lot of the crashes are due to poor servicing, though. We service our planes monthly, and always right before flying. So, unless the odds are not in your favour today, we should make it there in one piece.”

“The odds are never in my favour.” This has him full on laughing now and you have to admit the sound eases your nerves a little.

“Here, can you hold her for a minute?” You nod, reaching for Soori who falls into your arms effortlessly. You watch him head to the front of the plane.

You bounce her in your lap. She’s calm and unbothered and it eases you a little – your shoulders relaxing, releasing tension you didn’t even know you were holding.

Jungkook comes back after a bit – two iced coffees in his hands. He hands you one before he settles back on his seat. You thank him and he hums in return, letting his body melt into the cushions. His elbow rests on the armrest next to him, fingers coming to his lips as he observes you. You take a sip of your coffee and wince at the taste. He laughs.

“What is this?!”

“Iced americano,” he responds, feigning innocence, but the smile on his face gives him away.

“It is not.” You retaliate.

“Fine. Iced americano, pump of scotch.” His nonchalance astounds you.

“Jungkook! I’m- Soori-,”

“Relax, I’ve got her. No fun coffee for me. Plus, it’s not enough to have you seeing stars. Just enough to take the edge off.”

“This is not very appropriate work hours behaviour.”

“I won’t tell if you don’t.”

Now, you try. You try really hard to not fall into the cliché that is Jeon Jungkook. You try really hard to not take his words as anything other than what they are. In retrospect, he’s never even given you enough rope for you to second guess his actions. But seeing him in less impersonal contexts like this one, or the library last week, is playing dangerous games with the left side of your brain. You know, your rationality.

Being out-of-office suits him. His whole demeanour slows down, becomes a bit more mellow. He’s easier, to put it bluntly. He wears baggy, comfy clothes. His hair looks ruffly and you notice how soft his features look when he’s well rested. His duality is, pardon your French, mind-fucking. And so as much as you try, you’d be lying to yourself if you didn’t admit Jeon Jungkook has officially crossed the line of ‘yes, he’s attractive but also your boss’ to ‘yes, he’s your boss but he also sends a whole troop of butterflies straight to your tummy every time he throws that slow blink, tendered smile at you.’ And it might be the scotch but you’d also be lying to yourself if you didn’t acknowledge that you, in all of your cliché-loving glory, are in trouble.

He looks to the side, eyes falling to the window next to you. He reaches for it, bringing the panel down.

“Out of sight, out of mind,” he says, settling back into his seat, legs spreading as he makes himself comfortable.

So much trouble.

~

Jungkook’s less than conventional recipe to cure fear of flying seems to have worked for you. By the time the plane had taken off you were a bit more relaxed and, needless to say, hazy minded. It was quite amusing to see you fall into the effects of a little bit of hard liquor in the early stages of the morning.

Soori had fallen asleep soon after, the white noise coming from the plane’s engine getting to her. She now rested peacefully in a travel bassinet in the seat next to him.

The lights in the cabin grew dim and the both of you went into airplane mode. Headphones in, falling into a comfortable silence. Jungkook can’t quite remember when was the last time he’d fallen into comfortable silence with someone. And by someone he means an adult. He found himself enjoying it in a way that eased him. Jungkook has never experienced fear of flying – or heights. But he supposed the nervous edge you’d carried could pretty much resemble the one that had settled upon him the moment Ira left. That fear that convinces you that the end will see you crumbling – crashing. The type of fear that has the odds against you. So, when you fell back into that tranquillity that characterizes you, he felt himself relaxing, too. It wasn’t conscious but he welcomed it. He was tired of fighting so as to keep his pain comfortable.

He fidgets in his seat, eyes closed as he tries to fall asleep, but his attempts are failing. He’s not necessarily tense so he should be drifting – the white noise usually gets to him, too. Maybe he’s not comfortable enough, or warm enough. Or maybe his mind can’t stop thinking about the last thing he witnessed before closing his eyes. Your weight had shifted to the closed window of the plane, a dark brown leather journal propped on your knee, pen gliding against the ivory pages as you wrote away. You hadn’t paused once and he couldn’t help wonder what had your thoughts running at such a rapid pace. Plane crash statistics, probably.

His inability to fall asleep has him feeling restless so he finally gives in, opening his eyes. You’ve remained in the exact position they’d last left you in. He stares, taking advantage of how hyper-focused you seem to be. Your hold on the notebook is delicate and he notices how well-lived it looks. The soft leather has wrinkled at the corners and you’ve inked a couple of phrases he can’t quite make up into the fabric. He notices a little star in blue ink, slightly lopsided. Before he can stop himself, his lips form a smile. It lingers, softening his expression.

You feel it. His eyes on you. Your eyes leave the page, gaze shifting up, though he can’t tell your eyes are on him. You feel nervous at first but his smile pushes that feeling aside. It’s contagious so you mimic it, enjoying the built-up fuzzy feeling at the pit of your stomach. You’re not sure it’s inhabited by sole butterflies anymore. Something else makes way inside of you, a feeling which you keep unnamed in hopes you can tame it by doing so.

He breaks himself out of his trance, looking up. His eyes meet yours and his smile falters a bit. Yours doesn’t, though. It doesn’t lose its warmth, its welcoming nature. So, he lets his lips move to the beat of your actions once again.

You break the little eternity your exchange held, hand resuming your stream of consciousness. He lets himself watch you for a couple more seconds – lets himself indulge in your light, the same light he’d been avoiding.

His eyes flutter a couple of times before sleep settles upon him.

You’re the last thing he sees before he fully drifts.

~

You wouldn’t say you’re seasoned when it comes to hotels stays. Let alone five-star ones. The last time you stayed in one you and Lucy feared for your health to such extent you ended up showering with flip flops on.

The West End is nothing like anything you’ve experienced. Not only is it top-notch luxury and comfort from as early as stepping into the lobby but, you also get to experience your first taste of said luxury with the benefits rooming with the owner brings you. Not to mention the fact that the hotel doesn’t technically open its doors until inauguration tomorrow night – leaving you, Jungkook and Soori with an entire hotel to yourselves with the exception of the staff, of course. Staff who also happen to be at your service twenty-four-hours a day. Their words, not yours.

Well, there is another exception. It comes in a pair of five-inch heels and hair so sleeked back it’s giving you a headache.

“Mr. Jungkook,” her voice is the definition of cool, calm and collected. All of her, really.

“Kaya, nice to see you,” he retorts. You don’t miss the way he takes a less formal tone with her.

“Likewise,” she looks at Soori, who’s head is resting in her father’s shoulder. “Hi, sweetheart. Did the plane ride get you sleepy?” her voice softens but not enough to lose its sharpness. Soori gives her a loopy smile.

“Kaya, this is ___.” Jungkook turns to you and you proceed to shake her hand.

She smiles, nothing but politely. “Ah, yes. We’ve talked on the phone. It’s nice to finally meet you.” For some reason, said phone conversation had you picturing her as a stern lady well into her forties. A brown suit, short hair. Kaya can’t be any older than Jungkook and her black suit looks designer. She’s beautiful, too. In that femme fatale way.

“You too,” at this, she gives you another tight-lipped smile.

Jungkook starts walking absentmindedly, eyes scanning the lobby. He seems pleased. He turns to Kaya as he says, “so, give me the run down, Kay.”

Kay?

“We’re meeting with the event organizer in twenty to run through some last-minute details for the reception. After that, you have an appointment of the outmost importance with none other than rest and relaxation,” he shoots her a smile – a dazzling, boyish smile. She nods and continues, “your friends are arriving at nine tomorrow, the plane’s already on its way back to the city to pick them up. Brunch at ten, don’t be late. Your parents will be here at 1 pm, sharp. Lunch will be served at 1:15. Your father wanted a seaside view so you’ll be eating by the cabanas.” He rolls his eyes at this, “you know I don’t fight the man. Anyways, we’ll give them an official tour of the premises at 3. Reception begins at 6, we’ll cut the ribbon at 6:15, dinner at 7 and then the beach party. The plane will be ready for you on Sunday so just let me know when they can expect you and I’ll pass the message along.” She finishes, letting out a breath as to finalize her previous statement.

“You’re a Rockstar,” is all he says before you make your way to the elevator.

A Rockstar?

The elevator ride is quiet. Kaya types away on her phone at superhuman speed. Jungkook stands in the middle of the two of you, eyes penetrating the doors. Even Soori is quiet – falling in and out of sleep in her father’s arms.

The corridors are wide and long and it’s quite a walk to get to the room. Kaya stands in front of the double doors and taps the room key into the card reader. The doors come open and to say you’re impressed is an understatement.

The room is not quite a room. The first thing you see is the ocean. The balcony seems to be never ending, illuminating the space, and you’re so high up it feels like you’re at sea level. There’s a full kitchen to the side, marble island and everything, and a dining table that gives way to the living room. The finish of the room is in that impeccably clean and modern aesthetic you’ve grown used to since working for Jungkook.

“The West Wing,” Kaya states, pride lacing her voice. “Master bedroom is that way, Soori’s nursery is right next to it and opposite that we have the guest bedroom. Where you’ll be sleeping, ___.” She says the latter with an edge to her voice you don’t miss.

“Perfect. Thank you, Kaya. I’ll see you downstairs in ten?”

“You got it, Mr. Jungkook.” That’s the last thing she says before she turns around, heels clinking on the marble floors, pony tail swaying side to sides as she makes her grand exit.

Jungkook walks over to the balcony, sliding the doors open. The warm, salty breeze fills the space. It’s so nice it takes you a moment to register where exactly life has landed you today.

“Why does everyone call you Mr. Jungkook,” you ask, startling him a little as you come to stand next to him. The vastness of the ocean stands before you. It’s breath-taking.

“Mr. Jeon is my dad,” you nod at this, “plus, he’s still the tycoon around here.”

“All of this is yours, huh?”

He clicks his tongue, a pensative look to his face. “Ours, I like to believe.” He says, looking at Soori who’s just began to fully wake up. You smile at his words. “Hey, the meeting shouldn’t take long. Why don’t you two get changed and meet me by the beach? This one won’t sleep through the night if she naps again.”

“You got it, Mr. Jungkook,” you say, taking Soori from him. He shakes his head at you but you don’t miss the light chuckle that escapes his lips.

~

“It is an honour to be at your service again, Mr. Jungkook.” Mr. Ilsung bows repeatedly, smiling with pride as Jungkook taste tests the finger food set to be served at tomorrow’s reception.

“I think the honour’s all mine, Chef. This is- mmm,” He stuffs another canapé into his mouth.

Mr. Ilsung beams at the sight.

Growing up, Jungkook found himself spending more time in hotel rooms and lobbies than he did in his actual home. It was his father’s tactic to have him grow passionate about the business. It didn’t quite work back then. Instead, it would result in Jungkook sneaking out of his father’s sight, giving way to his many hotel escapades. He would find himself in the most remote of places – crossing every Do Not Enter and Staff Only sign that came his way.

He hid in rooftops and utility rooms but his favourite by far was the kitchen. He met Mr. Ilsung during one of those escapades when he was only seventeen. He wasn’t Chef back then, though. He’d only be assisting in the kitchen but they fell into a fondness that made him feel like family. He’d keep him company and in return, Mr. Ilsung would keep him well fed – treating him to all of his favourite foods, his touch taking on every recipe with a twist.

His wife had fallen ill a year ago, leaving him a widower. Everything happened so suddenly the man found himself walking into an early retirement, too consumed by sorrow. This had made Jungkook feel more nostalgic than he’d imagined possible, which lead him to present the man with an offer that he found himself unable to deny. Mr. Ilsung didn’t have kids, and now with his wife gone nothing was holding him to the city. Jungkook’s idea to make him the head Chef at his new hotel had him packing up his belongings and starting his life over by the seaside. He was immeasurably grateful.

Jungkook sees one of the cooks walk over, holding an assortment of fruits, chocolates and a bottle of his favourite red wine inside a basket adorned with roses. “What is this?”

“A welcome gift, Mr. Jungkook. The chocolates are for Miss Soori, though.” Mr. Ilsung sets the basket atop the kitchen counter.

“This is very kind, Mr. Ilsung. Thank you very much.”

Jungkook takes one look at the basket and it doesn’t take his eyes long to find it – a greeting note, both his and Ira’s name written on it.

Kaya notices this and she visibly tenses next to him, eyes widening as she begins to apologize profusely.

“Don’t. And don’t give anyone hell over this, Kaya,” he says, narrowing his eyes at her. “It’s not their fault.” She just nods.