“No, I Mean, We Usually Did The Acceptance Speech When There’s No One Around, And All Of A Sudden,

Feeling

2.3k, m

Ah, yes. The smell of your fucking Gucci perfume. Jungkook fucking hates it.

It’s not like he’s in any position to complain though, and he acknowledges that. “Yes, please give me the best seller,” he remembers telling the woman at the booth. One whiff and he wants to pass out. Perfect. Humans like these smells.

Keep reading

Fifty Shades of Jeon Jungkook 🖤

Lines of fate: 01 | jjk

➵ pairing: tattooist!jungkook x f. reader

➵ genre: apocalypse au, exes to lovers (?) dad!jungkook, survival, angst, smut

➵ summary: the last thing Jungkook ever imagined was an outbreak that turned the dead into the living. But even more unexpected is seeing you—an ex he’s known nothing about in the past four years—with a small child who bears a striking resemblance to himself. As Jungkook grapples with the shock and the city spirals into chaos, the two of you are thrust back together, forced to confront unresolved feelings, long-buried truths, and the horrors of the deadly virus taking over.

➵ word count: 10.8k

➵ warnings: swearing (jk says fuck way too much), graphic depictions of violence and death, blood and gore, seizures, virus and zombies ofc, brief mentions of alcohol consumption.

➵ series masterlist

➵ a/n: it’s finally here!! <3 sorry this was postponed way longer than expected, all I can say is: life :,) anyway!! posting my writing again after years on hiatus definitely feels nerve wracking lol. this idea has been in my wips for literally years so I’m so excited to finally be sharing it with you all!! I would greatly appreciate your feedback and thoughts as it is something quite different from anything I usually write (it’s definitely been a kick in the ass to write) it’ll also really help me stay motivated to continue writing it. thank you for all the hype and excitement you showed for this fic before it was even released cause like hello?? that’s crazy to me😭 thanks for always showing my stories love and support🫶🏻 I’ve taken inspiration from all the zombie movies and videogames I’ve ever seen and played over the years (thanks dad). I should also mention, I had a very thorough plot for this planned out and it kinda went to shit in the process of writing so we’re kind of going off vibes only and 20% of the plot I had originally planned so yeah, bare with me🤪 I also want to say, updates on this will most likely be slow, but I will try my best to get them out as fast I can for you🙏 now that that’s over, I hope you enjoy this series as much as I am enjoying writing it!! this chapter is just the very beginning <33

The autumn sun filters through the large window with an amber glow as you take a slow sip of your coffee, the warm bitterness spreading in your chest as you attempt to chase some kind of comfort. But the loud hum of the city just outside and the muffled chatter of the bustling cafe are very much a grounding reminder of where you are — and where you really wish you weren't.

Your gaze travels down to your daughter sitting on the booth beside you, her little legs swinging off the seat contentedly as she picks away at her blueberry muffin. Completely oblivious to your ongoing little inner torment. Her big eyes flicker up to meet yours, brimming with glee. Brushing a crumb off her cheek, you force a little smile for her. 

Like a dull sting under your skin, you feel how little teeth of guilt gnaw away at you, not only because it’s been almost impossible to offer her a genuine smile in the past two days since you stepped foot in this dammed place, but because you simply wish you could share the same excitement as she does, and perhaps…feel more positive about this whole situation. For her.

But all you’ve been able to feel is guilt.

An incessant amount of it. Guilt and fear. Slowly brewing up inside you like some sort of poison that has had you feeling a little sick to your stomach.

”You’re spiraling again.” Hoseok pulls you out of your absentminded state, studying you over the rim of his half finished iced americano.

You blink. You often tend to forget how well he’s capable of reading you. Though you suppose that’s a skill acquired with nearly twenty years of friendship, an unavoidable consequence of growing up constantly together, practically like siblings. 

Hoseok has been the only constant in your life for as long as you can remember, like a brother to you — conjoined at the hip as his mother always used to joke. It all began when you moved next door. With your parents always working late and often times far away from home, Hoseok's home slowly became your second one — the place you spent most of your childhood and adolescence and formed some of your fondest memories. A place where you were never alone.

You do suppose it’s no surprise the years and the unbreakable bond you’ve formed have given you exceptional abilities to know when something is off with just a simple glance. But it's never less surprising.

The corners of your mouth tug upwards into a tiny smile at his words, brows pinched in a pathetic attempt to hide your truth. “I am not.”

“You are. You’re thinking too much,” he stirs the ice in his drink with the straw, eyes flicking up to meet yours again. “Which if I may remind you, is one of your fatal flaws.”

You scoff, only slightly offended as you watch him take a slow sip. Pushing your sunglasses further up your head as you lean back. “Thinking too much is not my fatal flaw.” 

He’s may very likely be right about that, but of course, you’d never actually admit it.

Hoseok snorts, clearly unconvinced. His voice just above a whisper when he murmurs, “Right. Sorry. It’s definitely lying.”

Before you can argue, he leans forward to accept some crumbs of muffin Jieun is so eagerly offering him. The sight tugs at something deep in your chest, watching his expression soften to mush as he thanks her with that brightest, tender smile he only ever uses for her before he brings his attention back to you. 

“If it weren’t your fatal flaw, you’d actually be enjoying that overpriced coffee and oh-, maybe being reunited with your best friend again. I haven’t even seen you in like three months.” He shakes his head in utter disappointment, sitting back with a dramatic sigh.

“Hobi, I am so thrilled to be reunited with you, truly.” You roll your eyes ever so slightly and place a hand on your heart rather sarcastically as you say it, but deep down you hope he knows you’re only half joking. No one has done for you more than what hoseok has in the time you’ve known him.

You suppose all the change has got you in a rather sentimental state. But you bury it away. Hoseok deserves a nice time out with a friend for once too. He’s seen enough of your tears.

“Yeah?” he leans in, studying you with mock concern. Though not falling for it even a bit. "That's your thrilled face? You sure about that?” And you almost laugh, but then, he shifts, looking more serious. “You know,” he pauses, crossing his arms over his chest. “For someone who finally landed a nice new job and has everything working out, you don’t look all that thrilled to me, actually. That’s all.”

You press your lips together and glance down at your coffee, suddenly the truth a little too hard to face. You should be happy. He’s right. Because things are really starting to look up for you again, everything you’ve spent the last few months wishing for has finally become a reality. And yet, you can’t shake the fact that there’s a deep buried sense of dread that seems to be getting in the way of that, a familiar fear that's been present for years, but only intensified since you stepped foot in Seoul again. 

Hoseok follows your gaze, watching you carefully, then nudges your foot under the table gently. “Come on.” He murmurs softly, eyebrows raised gently. “What is it?”

You suppose your real fatal flaw is your emotions showing up as flashy neon subtitles over your head apparently, or the fact you are simply terrible at hiding them, because Hoseok doesn't budge. He sees right through your little facade — always has. And as much as you know he is a great listener and that he genuinely cares to hear it all, always ready to give you a helping hand in any way he possibly can, you just don’t want to sound ungrateful. Not when anyone else in your situation would be feeling over the moon right now.

Besides, you’ve never liked burdening him, or anyone for that matter. Never wanted to add more weight to the heavy things he already carries himself. He deals with so much of that at work already. So many problems significantly worse than your own worries. So you simply shake your head, putting on a small smile once again in hopes to appease him.

“I’m alright, Hobi. It's just…strange. Being back here. Overwhelming, I guess,” you admit, though only to half of the truth. “It’s so calm on the island. I suppose I got used to it. Everything here is just so intense. But that's all.” You cross your arms on the table as you gaze out at the busy streets. Hoping you don't sound as pathetic as you feel. Though in truth, this whole things isn't just strange. It’s all actually fucking terrifying.

In many ways it seemed like nothing here had changed since the day you left four years ago. The cityscape is as bustling as you remember – a stark contrast to the quietude and stillness of Jeju, where you had been building your new life up until now. People in suits rush back and forth and push into each other with no care, everything is always shadowed by a maze of buildings that don't seem to have an end. Cars weave through traffic like they want to crash into each other, and neon signs and billboards still flicker blindingly even in the daytime. 

The fact that everything remains the same, terrifies you. The rush, the stress, the chaos. That constant hustle and bustle that seems suffocating. It wasn't the reason why you left. but it was certainly a factor that made your life here something you wanted to escape from. It feels like stepping back into the life you thought you’d left behind for good. Like stepping onto a moving treadmill, when you no longer know how to run. Not sure if you’ll ever find your place here again.

Hobi hums in understanding, and the warmth in the familiarity of his smile helps lessen the knot that's been forming in your stomach all morning. And though you've only let out a tiny portion of what's on your mind, you already feel like you can breathe with more ease.

Sometimes, it’s not so bad that he can see right through you. Because you also tend to forget he’s the only one that truly gets you, understands you when even you struggle to understand yourself, and has never once been one to judge you, no matter how small or ridiculous it may be.

“Yeah, I get it. It can be overwhelming.” He nods slowly, letting the words settle. “But if I were you, I’d be damn proud of myself.” His expression is calm and his words full of sincerity as he speaks. “You did what you had to do, and now you’re doing it again. Making more big changes. Really tough decisions, and I know that’s not easy.” He pauses. “But you've always made it after all. This time won't be different. Besides, think about this, we’re close to each other now. I’ll be here for anything you guys need, you know that.”

Your heart softens at his comforting words, and the reassurance feels like it melts some of the tension off your shoulders. And for just a split second you feel that roar of confidence, thinking about everything you've accomplished, but it's not lasting, and deflates with the weight of your heavier thoughts.

You want to believe what he says — you really do. For your daughter's sake. Because this is finally your chance to start over and build something better. To give Jieun the life she deserves, something stable, a chance to thrive in a place full of new opportunities. 

A fresh start. 

After all, isn't that all you've ever been chasing?

You don’t want to allow your fears and the past to come in the way of that. But it's never so simple. At least, definitely not here — definitely not for you.

Because the truth is, being in Seoul again feels like roaming a haunted city. Tainted and plagued by shadows from the past, by who you used to be, and everything and everyone you left behind all those years ago when you ran and didn’t dare to look back. Being here now, you can’t shake the feeling — the apprehension and fear that everything you once left behind is lurking around the corner, ready to jump out and haunt you, making everything you've finally built up crumble to pieces once again. This place just gives you an indescribable feeling of…dread. Eeriness even. Enough for it to linger gut deep with a painful sense of discomfort that hasn’t eased since the day you arrived. As if you can never truly let your guard down.

But after all, it was an opportunity you couldn’t pass up, even if it meant returning to the city you swore you’d never step foot in again. The offer came at just the right moment, a lifeline after months of uncertainty and dead-ends. After losing your job, and endless nights crying yourself to sleep with the heavy burden of becoming a failure of a mother and not knowing how to make ends meet. You practically cried with joy the morning you finally got the call, and ignored the pit that formed in your stomach when you heard where it required you to move to. It had felt like you were about to reach the peak of a mountain, only to drop all the way back down to the bottom. But it was a steady paycheck, and a chance to finally give Jieun some stability. It wasn’t glamorous or grand — a position in a small marketing firm. But it was enough to rebuild. The breakthrough you so badly needed to start over and secure a future for your little girl. 

How could you possibly turn it down?

That was your biggest and only goal in life.

There was nothing you wouldn’t do for her. So you knew in that very instant you had to take it. Even if it meant returning to the place that broke you beyond repair. So you packed up your life and now, here you are. Back where you never thought you’d be. So far from the tranquility of the home you had made for yourself in a secluded tiny seaside town four years ago. Where you were happy. Where you didn't live in constant fear.

“I know this is what I need right now,” you speak softly, more to yourself than anything. You reach out, gently brushing your fingers through Jieun's baby soft hair, watching as she focuses intently on her muffin, completely unaware of the heaviness of the conversation. “I just don’t want to mess anything up…the job, you know, our new life here. I want to get this right. I don’t want anything, getting in the way of that.” You swallow thickly, fingers tightening around the mug of coffee in front of you, and Hoseok knows exactly what you mean by that. You hesitate, letting out a quiet breath before speaking again. “I know there's so many opportunities for us here but…I was happy in Jeju. Jieun was happy.”

Hoseok nods, slow and understanding. “I know you were. A city like this takes some adapting to, you know that.” He reaches out and gives your arm a gentle squeeze, “but give it time. You’ll settle right back in.” He says warmly, reassuring. You return a tiny smile, more genuine this time.

“Seriously though. Change is good. New home, new job, meeting new people…maybe even someone special…” he adds.

You scoff, eyes widening, only half incredulous at how fast he swerved the topic there. So typical of him. 

“Yeah no, thanks. You can stop it right there.” You shake your head.

“What?” Hobi leans back in his chair, crossing his arms as he waggles his eyebrows, a tiny smirk pulling at the corner of his lips, completely unbothered despite your clear opposition. “I'm just saying,” he adds in, raising his hands in mock innocence, though he feels like your glare could actually kill him. “You’re young. You’re no longer in that tiny ass town full of old drunk married cheating men. Everyone deserves a little fun. It wouldn't kill you to-”

“Hobi,” you sigh, cringing internally at the memories of disastrous dates you told him all about over the phone. You throw a pointed look in his direction, but Hoseok just chuckles. “I’m done with all that. Seriously.”

“Come on,” he presses.

“No. No way. I told you.” You interject, tone firm, not even allowing space for the idea. “I’m a single mother, Hobi. That’s been off the cards for years. I have different priorities now.” You straighten in your seat, making a point to scoop Jieun's hair back and out of her drink. These are your priorities now.

Hoseok raises a brow, watching you carefully, but there's no judgment in his expression now — just silent understanding. He leans back in his chair again, smile dying down, tapping his fingers absently against his iced americano before his gaze drifts over to your little girl. His expression softens, fondness flowing in his eyes.

“I know,” he says after a moment, his tone a tad more gentle. “But I’m just saying…you’re allowed to let yourself be happy again, you know. You deserve that.”

Something uncomfortable twists in your insides. Happy. What a simple word, but what a complex thing. 

You lift your eyes to meet his, the sincerity in his gaze cutting right through. You could argue, explain that you don't agree, that romance is a door locked for good. Not only out of fear, but out of necessity. It’s no longer just about you. You don’t have the luxury of reckless choices or fleeting little flings like you did before.

There's simply to much buried history to let anyone new into your life.

And deep down, you don't believe you deserve it. But you don’t voice any of that. There's no need to explain. Hoseok knows your history better than anyone, the pain etched deep into you, the one you carry like a scar beneath your skin. He knows Jieun's father plays a big role in that, even though you don’t dare to mention him and haven’t in years. He knows his existence and every memory he’s involved in is something you merely refuse to acknowledge. And though Hoseok wants nothing more than for you to thrive, he knows better than to press on the matter. 

Still, he hesitates before speaking quietly. “I’ve been here four years, and I’ve never seen him again.”

He says it gently, in hopes the information is comforting to you, to maybe put you at ease, but instead it feels like a small jab between your ribs. You stiffen, for just a second. You feel your heart begin to race a tiny bit faster. And you wonder when the mention of him will stop having this goddamn effect on you.

Hoseok notices, and regret quickly flickers across his face. He realizes he might have overstepped, treading on thin ice that he fears may slowly be cracking beneath him.

But it doesn't. You take a deep breath, and you simply nod. It’s okay. You know you can’t avoid it forever. Besides, who’s to say he even still lives here? The thought should be reassuring, bring you some sort of peace, be relieving. But it isn’t. Because the thought of ever seeing him again makes your palms sweat, and your chest a little tight.

“Yeah.” You say quietly. “You’re right. Who knows.”

You don't mention how many late nights you've stayed up, haunted with thoughts like if ever did make it out of here. If he ever made to the states and accomplished all those things he wanted. If he's perhaps settled down and started a family or if he's stuck right where he used to be, how he used to be. You don't mention how sometimes, you mind even attacks you with the thought of if he’s even still alive.

You don't dare mention any of it.

Hoseok exhales, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m sorry. I just-” He pauses, voice lowering as he checks Jieun to make sure she's not listening, not that she would know or understand, but you appreciate that he does. “I know we’re not meant to talk about him–“

You push past it, giving a small dismissive shake of the head. Instead, you plaster on a small practiced smile, turning to glance down at the little girl beside you as well. It isn't something easy to avoid. But for the past four years, somehow, you’ve managed it. 

“Anyway. I am happy,” you say, voice softer now, steering the conversation elsewhere. “I get all the love I need from my little lovebug right here, don’t I?”

The little lovebug in question remains completely unaware of the heaviness of the conversation. Instead, her wide eyes are fixated on something outside, her eyes big and small fingers suddenly clutching your sleeve.

“Mommy, look!” She gasps, tugging desperately for your attention, she calls you again, tearing you away from your conversation. “The birdy!”

You follow her gaze, a small black bird just on the other side of the glass, and the simplicity of her joy softens you, eases the heaviness for a second. It really doesn't take much to amuse a child, and you’re glad to see at least someone enjoying her time here so far. “I see, baby.”

You smile with her, that is until, just a moment later, you notice… the small bird is no longer pecking at crumbs on the pavement. It’s… acting rather strangely. Its head twitches sharply to the side, body jerking with twitchy erratic movements as it flaps it’s wings like crazy, then suddenly, it freezes, before twitchting again.

Your brows furrow, unable to take your eyes off it. What the hell? Something about it sends a strange chill through you, suddenly understanding what had Jieun so surprised.

“Oh, I think that poor bird might have gone a little coo coo.” Hoseok turns his head to take a look himself, and you both exchange a puzzled glance, to which Hobi just shrugs with a mildly disgusted expression.

“What, you know I hate birds.” he whispers, shrugging like someone just walked over his grave, and you swat his arm and shush him, suppressing a laugh. You wouldn't want your sweet animal loving daughter hearing that. 

“Isn't that so weird. I’ve never seen one do that before.” You say, and hoseok tilts his head, staring at it with a mildly grossed out frown. “Probably has some kind of parasite or something. Not sure.”

“It’s gonna die?” she looks up at hobi, her little face full of worry. You wrap your arms around her, pulling her in closer.

“Not necessarily, bub. I’m sure it’ll be okay,” Hobi answers, trying to be tactful, however, Jieun doesn’t look convinced, but she nods sadly and resumes eating spoonfuls of her hot chocolate that's long gone cold. 

“Yeah, it’ll be fine baby.” You kiss the top of her head, as you glance out the window once again, only to see it’s no longer there. 

“So odd.” You shake your head, taking another sip of your coffee, and Hoseok nods and lets out a low hum, taking another sip himself.

“So, what’s the plan for the rest of the day? Are you actually gonna start unpacking, or are you going to let those suitcases rot in your living room for another week?” He taunts.

You chuckle. “I’ll unpack eventually. This little girl and I have a long list of errands left today.”

“Uh-huh.” He gives you an unconvinced look, the looks at Jieun with a dramatic pout, cooing. “My poor little monkey. Prisoner to moms to do list. I remember that feeling.”

She giggles, and you speak up. “Shhh, she loves errands with mommy, don't you-”

Suddenly, a loud crash sound from the back of the café, startling you all.

The sharp clatter of metal rings out and you hear a young worker gasp, emerging hastily from behind the counter as the previous muffle of conversation begins to die down. Heads immediately start turning towards the scene unfolding before them. 

“What the hell?” you murmur as you hastily turn around yourself, pulse spiked from the jump.

Near the back of the cafe, a chair is knocked to the ground, a mans body hunched over on the floor, shaking and convulsing with an unnatural force that seems to take over him completely. The man sitting beside him instantly scrambles to the floor next to him, shaking his shoulders in a failed attempt to break him out of whatever is happening as he calls out for help in a trembling voice, panicked.

“Oh my god, Hobi-” You gasp and your stomach twists as you take in what is occurring, grip instinctively tightening around your daughter's hand, turning her away from the scene. One of the members of staff pulls out her phone, announcing that she will call an ambulance right away, the man on the floor now surrounded by two other workers that instantly made their way over to him.

Hoseok takes just a few seconds to register what’s going on. “Shit.” He mutters, “A seizure.”

Instantly, he’s up on his feet, leaving you and Jieun behind and rushes over to help, but before he can reach the man on the floor, a young worker steps in front of him, his hands raised. 

“An ambulance is on the way!” he blurts out, eyes darting between the unconscious man and the crowd gathering around him, Hoseok noticing his eyes full of panic. “Please, just give him space.”

“It's alright. I’m a nurse,” Hoseok urges, trying to step around him. “Please, let me-”

This time, there’s no resistance — only relief in the young man's panicked eyes as he steps aside, allowing Hoseok through to where the man is convulsing on the floor.

Jesus christ. On his one day off. He thinks internally.

Without hesitation, Hoseok drops to one knee. “Don’t hold him down,” he instructs the mans friend beside him as he proceeds to unbutton the first few buttons of the man's shirt to facilitate his breathing. He presses his fingers to his wrist as best as he can, taking a pulse. He attempts to roll him on his side, but he seizes with too much force, limbs jerking far too erratically for him to do so. 

“Has he ever had seizures before? Is he epileptic?” Hoseok asks without tearing his eyes away from the man.

The man's friend just shakes his head. “No…no- he was fine right before.”

“Ambulance is just two minutes away,” the barista yells, phone still pressed to her ear. Hoseok nods but keeps his focus on the young man. Face contorted in concertation as he's checking his pulse once again before tilting his head to ensure he’s breathing properly.

You sit speechless few tables away, watching the scene unfold, your heart erratic in your chest. But feeling so much relief Hoseok was here. Jieun's small hand holds yours tightly, grip strong. She shifts in her seat, trying to peek over the booth to the commotion, but you gently pull her in beside you. Pulling her close, you brush a soothing hand over her hair.

“It’s okay, baby,” your whisper. “That man wasn’t feeling very well. But uncle hobi is helping him. Isn’t that so good? He’s really good at helping people remember. It's okay.”

Jien nods slowly, though her brows are still drawn together in concern. She doesn’t fully understand, but she doesn’t doubt your word, or her uncle's abilities.

Across the large space, Hoseok presses his lips into a thin line, his eyes watching carefully as the man's convulsions finally begin to slow, the violent jerking finally seeming to ease up. But just as the worst seems to have passed…Hoseok stiffens. 

There’s a concerning, deep purplish hue creeping up the man’s neckline, peeking through the gap of his unbuttoned white shirt. Dark veins snaking against his pale skin, spreading like ink through thin cracks. Hoseok swallows hard, alarm bells ringing at the back of his mind. 

That…that doesn’t look right. His medical knowledge kicks in, a thousand possibilities racing through his mind, digging for the most fitting answer. Is it cyanosis? an undiagnosed vascular disease? Possibly an infected wound? blunt trauma?

His mind dashing for answers in an instant, but before he can take a better look and unbutton his shirt completely, after what feels like a lifetime, the piercing wail of sirens cuts right through his thoughts, and just moments after, paramedics burst into the café, pushing past the gathered crowd near the Hoseok and the patient on the floor. Hoseok quickly regains focus, stepping back to allow them to take over. 

“He had a seizure. Approximately a minute long. His breathing is stable but—“ He hesitates for a second, then presses on, giving them a brief diagnosis and rundown. “I think he may have another underlying condition. Possible hypoxia.”

The paramedic beside him nods, wasting no time as they swiftly load him onto a stretcher. He stands back, his jaw tight, fingertips tingling with the urge to do more, watching as they wheel him out through the entrance. The murmurs of the coffee shop begin to start up again, confused and concerned looks turning left and right, but Hoseok can’t shake all the questions in his mind. 

He just hopes the guy turns out to be okay. The same way it goes with every patient he sees. You have to do your part and let go. That's how it works. but this time, he's left with a weird feeling bubbling inside.

After a few minutes, Hoseok turns back to your table. The moment his eyes meet yours, you’re already standing and asking, “God, is everything okay? He’s okay, right?”

“It’s alright,” Hoseok reassures you, though his tone is softer than usual. “They've got it under control.”

His gaze flickers toward Jieun, who’s still clinging to you, her small face twisted in worry as she glances between the two of you. She tugs your sleeve, her voice barely above a whisper. “Mommy…what happened to the man?”

“The ambulance people will take care of him and take him to the hospital so they can help him.” You say gently. She blinks up at you, then glances toward Hoseok, as if waiting for confirmation.

Hoseok lips form a small smile, crouching slightly to be at her eye level. “Your mom is right,” he says carefully, patting her head. “Sometimes when people don’t feel well they need a little help. That’s what doctors and nurses are for Jieun. It’s okay.”

Jieun watches him for a moment, and gives him a slow understanding nod. He then straightens and exhales, running a hand through his hair. “Let’s get out of here,” he murmurs, his gaze flicking back toward the road in front of the entrance where the ambulance is now setting off.

You nod, now feeling a weight of unease in the crowded space. It would probably be best to give them space to handle the situation, and to get some fresh air after that. So you retrieve Jieun's little pink puffer vest from off hobis chair and gently help her arms into, zipping it up snuggly to keep her warm from the afternoon chill, before taking her hand in yours.

As the three of you finally step outside, you're grateful for the crisp autumn air that lifts some of the heaviness off you. God, that was stressful. The distant sounds of the city hum around you, and life moves as if nothing happened.

“God, I hope that guy is okay.” You say quietly only for Hoseok to hear, taking your daughter's hand as you let out a slow breath. “First that weird bird and then that poor guy.”

Hoseok hums in agreement and gives a small reassuring nod, pushing his concerns aside. But you know how hard it is for him to switch off. How even when the emergency is over, his mind replays it again and again, analysing— wondering if he could have done more, if he could’ve done better. Even when he deals with stuff like this everyday, it’s never been easy.

“Jesus Christ. What's that saying, bad things always come in two’s? Three’s? ” He chuckles, letting out a huff. “I told you, there’s never an uneventful day out here.” Hobi shakes his head, forcing a smile to lift the mood. But his body still buzzes with tension. Then, in one swift movement, he scoops Jieun up, swinging her into his arms. “Now, time for ice cream?”

Jieun giggles loudly, kicking her feet excitedly at his words, all her earlier worries forgotten. “Yes!”

“Hobi, she just had a hot chocolate. Do you even have space for ice cream, Jieun?” You say, trying to sound stern, but the sight of them giggling together pulls a real smile out of you. And something inside already tells you you’re going to give in.

“She’s with uncle hobi now, there’s no rules.” He sing songs, walking ahead of you with your daughter in arms, all smiles as she squeals at his gentle tickling. The spitting image of joy if you ever saw it.

And for just a moment, you try to push away the nagging feeling that’s been pressing at the back of your mind. 

Because maybe, just maybe, this time, everything will be just fine after all.

Jungkook steadies his hand, a quiet hiss of pain getting lost in the low thrumming of the tattoo gun that fills the quiet studio, lulling him into that comforting sense of calm he knows so well. It’s a fairly big piece, he’s been here hunched over for hours now, that familiar dull ache creeping up his back, but he barely registers it. Because all that matters is the art taking form beneath his touch. 

Here, in these moments, it's when the feels most himself. Distracted, at peace, In control. Something he’s never found that easy outside of these four walls.

Every stroke, every line falls exactly where he intends it to. In a way, the rest of the world seems to fade away — no worries, just ink and skin, art coming to life. And it grants him a satisfaction nothing else can quite offer. And if there’s one thing Jungkook prides himself on, it’s his work and dedication. He built this place with steady hands and relentless effort, and he knows damn well he’s good at what he does. Confidence hasn't always been second nature to him, but time and experience have definitely sharpened him.

He leans back slightly to take in the work before him, his disheveled strands of dark hair falling over his eyes as he uses a paper towel to wipe up some excess ink from the client's forearm before glancing up. “How are we holding up?”

The young guy shifts in the chair, letting out a breathy chuckle. “Let’s just say I felt that last bit there.”

Jungkook nods, noting the slight sheen of sweat on the guy's forehead. He’s just glad he’s not a squirmer. That shit makes his job so much harder than it needs to be. 

His own body is the canvas of plenty tattoos. All colours, shapes and sizes. He's more than numb to the pain now. But he gets it.

“You’re doing really well. I won’t torture you much longer. We’re almost done with the worst part.” Pressing the pedal again, he feels the familiar vibration travel up his arm, he tongues with his lip piercing, a habit that signals his concentration. His hair is dusting over his eyes as he continues with the last bits of shading and does the final touch ups of all the smaller details. Another forty five minutes pass, broken by lighthearted conversation here and there. Though Jungkook never used to be one for making conversation before, he has long mastered the art of letting his mouth wander while his hands and precision remain steady and focused.

“Alright, and we’re done,” he wipes down the fresh ink one last time before setting the tattoo gun aside, letting out a silent exhale as he wheels back, peeling off his black gloves to grab the aftercare instruction sheet, ready to spew his usual little lecture he knows most people don’t even pay much attention to.

“Sit up slowly.” Jungkook instructs.

When the guy finally stands, he marvels at his tattoo in the mirror. Jungkook feels a flicker of pride swell in his chest. No matter how many times he does this, seeing the completed, polished work and his client's expressions of amazement never gets old. “Looks sick man. Better than I imagined.” He beams, twisting his arm under the light, his smile spreading all across his face.

“Good choice with the design.” Jungkook replies with a faint smile tugging at his lips. He then places the protective film, gives him a quick rundown of the aftercare and hands him the sheet. “Take care of it. Follow the aftercare instructions and it’ll heal nicely. And you know, any issues just come by or give me a call and I’ll check it out.”

“Will do. Thanks man, it’s perfect.”

As the last client of the day slips out with a final wave and he hears the bell over at the entrance ding, Jungkook finally feels the exhaustion set in — the kind that only comes after hours of steady concentrated work. Fuck, he really does need to work on his posture. He stretches his back, then cracks his knuckles, stretching his toned, inked arms over his head. But despite the tiredness, he feels no rush no rush to get back to his empty apartment.

He never does.

Instead, he takes his time wiping down his station, tidying all his clutter and ink in the methodical and organized way only he understands — something Yoongi always grumbles about when borrowing his space. But this is his sanctuary. He makes the rules. And yoongi may complain, but he accepts it.

When he's done cleaning up, Jungkook emerges into the entrance area of the studio, rubbing the back of his neck and ruffling his hair at the nape.

Yoongi stretches in his chair behind the front counter, arms lifting above his head as he lets out as wide yawn, smacking his lips as his eyes land on the younger. “Christ, I thought you were dead in there,” he says deadpan, watching as Jungkook attempts to roll out the tension coiled in his shoulders, stifling a yawn himself. “Or are you? I genuinely can't tell.”

“Very funny.” Jungkook mutters, slumping onto the leather couch with an over dramatic sigh, throwing the back of his arm over his eyes as he lets his body sink into the plush cushion. It’s moments like this he’s really fucking glad they invested in a good sofa. He wants it to swallow him.

“Sure you can survive the schedule tomorrow? We’re fucking packed.” He says.

Jungkook’s brows knit together as his eyes dart over to Yoongi, eyeing the printed schedule in front of him as he rubs his jaw. “What? You think I can't handle it?”

Yoongi shakes his head, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. He coughs into his fist, a rough dry sound that echoes through the quietness of the now empty studio. “I know you think you’re some kind of machine,” he gives the younger a pointed look, “but let me just remind you that you are, in fact, very much not.”

Jungkook's lips quirk. “Woah, woah. I’ll be fine. Unlike someone who sounds like they've caught the plague.” Lifting his arms from his eyes just enough to peer at Yoongi, he swings his arm as if to push him away. “Stay away from me with that. I can’t afford a day off anytime soon.”

Yoongi scoffs, waving a dismissive hand as he coughs into his fist again. “Relax, it's just the dust. Or if you’re lucky enough I've caught that shit going around. Won't be on your case anymore for at least two weeks. That's if I survive.”

The sound is muffled by his arm as Jungkook lets out a tired chuckle, but his eyes remain closed. “Now you’re just trying to get out of work tomorrow, hyung. I know your little tricks.”

“If anyone should be trying to get our work, it should be you. Admit your running on fumes.” Yoongi drops the piece of paper to the desk and crosses his arms, looking right across to Jungkook, his eyes squinting lightly.

Jungkook feels his heavy gaze, but he's not in the mood to face one of Yoongis lectures right now. He can’t exactly argue that. Because he knows Yoongi is not entirely wrong. 

He's working six days a week, morning till night, barely stopping to take a breath. Hell, it would've been the entire seven days of the week if Yoongi hadn’t raised hell the day he suggested it. Jungkook had tried to reason with him, insisting that Yoongi would still get his days off as usual, that he’d open up the studio alone on weekends and get everything sorted for the week ahead. But it was never about that, and he knew it.

Jungkook has always had a knack for picking up self-destructive tendencies. A slow brewing kind of self destruction, pushing himself way past his limits, working himself down to the bone until he can barely function. And Yoongi simply wasn't going to stand back and watch it happen all over again right in front of his eyes.

Most days, he only eats because it’s Yoongi who shoves food his way, whether he wants it or not.  Prepping meals and stashing them away in their mini fridge in the back room where Jungkook can find them, labeled with a little note in his unmistakable messy handwriting that reads “eat.”

Because behind his serious facade, Yoongi had always tried his best to care for him. 

From countless nights of dragging his black out drunk body home back in college, and many times after college as well. To picking him up from the streets at 4 am after he got into a nasty fight, bruised and bleeding and sobbing his heart out alone on an empty sidewalk. Yoongi didn’t question it back then, didn't hesitate. He never does. He just helped quietly with no second thought, allowing him to sit with his silent sobs on the car ride home. He had always been there, offering him a home when he had nowhere else to go, offering everything he had if it helped Jungkook from drowning.

It was Yoongi that had seen the potential in him and had patiently guided him to finally see it for himself, helping him build this studio from nothing — helping him build every piece of furniture, putting up every shelf, painting every wall, making sure Jungkook finally had something to call his. 

And now, despite all the hardships, he’s come further than they both could have imagined.

Yet deep down, Yoongi knows no amount of help can stop Jungkook from being who he is, not when he has it so deeply rooted in himself to self sabotage in every way he possibly can. It's simply how he’s wired. Yoongi has long accepted that some things are simply beyond his reach, and that Jungkook won’t ever fully change. And he may never admit it out loud, but somewhere in his heart, as the eldest, he’s always felt an unspoken weight of responsibility for Jungkook. That's why he tries relentlessly to guide him towards better choices.

Even though Jungkook has matured and come a long way from his troubled past and the reckless kid he used to be, he’s far from eradicating his bad habits entirely. He knows he’s working himself down to the bone. He knows it's not healthy. Unrealistic for him to sustain in the long run. But he doesn’t like himself when he’s unoccupied. 

He doesn't like the quiet.

Because when there’s silence, there’s space for his mind to make noise.

So that’s what he does. He works, works until he can exhaust himself to the point of passing out, too drained to even feel. It means no thoughts can haunt him when his head hits the pillow. And he’s okay with that.

Besides, he loves his job. That's a fact. The only thing he’s passionate about. All he’s ever found himself to be good at. He doesn’t need anything or anyone else. 

Or at least, that’s what he tells himself.

“Fumes are still fuel,” Jungkook shoots back. He reaches behind his head to grab an old vintage manga off the small side table, flipping through the pages without really reading.

Yoongi studies him for a moment, his sharp gaze softening just a fraction. He shifts in his seat, resting his elbows on the counter, zeroing in on him as if he were ready to throw out a serious scolding, like he did back when he was a kid. But his next words are nothing but gentle. “You know, if you wanna keep up with that schedule, you’re gonna need sleep. I can close up if you wanna head out first.”

Jungkooks expression falters — just a flicker. But he covers it with an exaggerated groan. It does get on his nerves ever so slightly, just slightly. What is it with everyone always underestimating him? Treating him like he's not capable of making his own decisions. But his tongue toys with his lip ring as he continues flicking through the pages, feigning nonchalance. “I’m good. I wanna sketch out a few new designs first. Got some ideas ratting around.”

Yoongi squints at him, clearly unconvinced. “You do know that old couch isn't a substitute for a bed, right? and you could just…do that at home.”

Jungkook tosses the comic aside as he shrugs, already bored of the conversation, his inked fingers drumming relentlessly against the worn red leather. “I focus better here.” Is his simple answer, but before Yoongi can speak, a loud siren cuts through their conversation, blaring jarringly as it flashes by across the street. Almost instantly another follows, and then another.

Instinctively, both of their heads turn towards the window, though it only gives view to a small glimpse of the larger front street, most of their view blocked by the building across from them, all they can see is the bright lights flashing as they rush past.

“The hell’s that about,” Yoongi mutters, straightening in his chair.

Jungkook furrows his brows, pushing himself up on his elbows to get a better look outside. From what he can see, everything seems normal enough — cars passing by, people going about their night and a few students heading home. The studio is located on a fairly quiet side street, on the outskirts of the city, just a little further from the booming heart of Seoul. It’s never as busy or chaotic here, much quieter.

“Accident, maybe?” Jungkook guesses, a tired breath slipping past his lips. It’s still Seoul after all. When is it ever completely quiet? 

Yoongi hums in agreement, but as if on cue, another set of sirens blares through the streets, overlapping with others as the noise grows, this time it’s police cars too, wailing violently and urgently before fading into the distance as they speed away. Jungkook glances at Yoongi, who meets his gaze with an equally puzzled expression. ‘Must be pretty bad.’ Jungkook says. Yoongi pulls out his phone to check the time and sighs. “Well, whatever it is, I'm not sticking around to find out.” He pushes himself to his feet, patting his back pocket to pull out his pack of cigarettes before reaching for his jacket draped over the back of the chair.

A slight sense of uneasiness crawls up Jungkook's spine. That was about four ambulances and three police cars if not more. That’s…that's a lot. But he soon brushes it off. “I’ll check the news later.” Jungkook mumbles, letting his heavy body drop back against the cushion.

Yoongi tugs his jacket on, tossing him a small glance. “Well, if you’re gonna stay here, at least don’t fall asleep on that damn couch again. You drool, and it’s gross.”

Jungkook chuckles, though it's half hearted. “I won’t ruin your sacred couch, hyung. Don't you worry.”

“Good.” Yoongi deadpans, heading toward the door. He flips the neon sign to closed before turning back to Jungkook, his tired features softening just a touch. “Don't stay too late. Tomorrow is fucking packed and you’ll regret it when youre half dead in the morning. And don’t forget that girl you booked in at 9.”

The girl needed some touch ups to her tattoo but had a busy schedule and no time to visit any other day or at ay other time. So Jungkook did the favour, and offered to book her in before opening time. But fuck. He really does need to stop bending his schedule for people.

He knows he will regret it. Jungkook just waves a dismissive hand, already getting comfy on the couch. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll leave soon.”

Yoongi doesn't believe him, but he doesn't argue, just pulls out a cigarette from the pack and raises his hands in surrender and heads for the door. “Alright. See you tomorrow.”

Jungkook hums in acknowledgement. “Rest up, Hyung.”

The studio fades to dead silence once the door closes. Though sirens still echo faintly in the background.

Stretched out on the couch, Jungkook stares at the ceiling a little longer than necessary. His limbs feel heavy, exhaustion pressing down on him heavily. He wants to work on those sketches, he wants to push his limits a little further. But his body seems to know what's best for him. And within minutes, he’s passed out.

When Jungkook’s eyes crack open, it’s to the gentle sound of rain pattering against the windows. But it’s not rain the noise that woke him. Distant voices shout over one another, and the erratic wailing of car alarms and sirens blast in a near distance, sounding like he’s still stuck between consciousness and a dream. Jungkook blinks, then suddenly, screeching tires follow into a loud crash, something heavy and metal hitting the pavement. His heart spikes, and his body jerks up instantly before his mind can register what the hell is going on. The sudden movement makes him lightheaded, blinking as he tries to shake the disorientation fogging his mind.

Shit. How long had he been out?

He curses under his breath, his head throbbing. Did someone just fucking crash their car outside? In his dazed state his fingers fumble for his phone in the front pocket of his jeans. He squints, the bright screen glaring back at him painfully in the darkness of the studio.

11:48 PM.

The first thought that comes to mind is drunk people causing a ruckus. It certainly wouldn't be unusual for Friday night. But then… he stops to listen. Are they breaking in? then his mind steers more towards the possibility of some petty street fight, or some idiots causing trouble. It’s the only conclusion his sleepy can come to.

But then, he hears it. 

Raw, panicked, screams erupting from the streets outside. It sounds close. Really close.

What the fuck? 

Jungkook feels a sickening pit form in his stomach.

Because that's definitely not the drunken shouts of a fight, not the sound of some petty fight or a car accident. It’s the kind of scream that crawls under your skin. And Jungkook knows the sounds of panic when he hears it. He feels his heart beating in his chest now, fast and strong. Something isn’t right. Before his mind can think  further, he pushes off the couch and yanks his leather jacket from the armrest, pulling it on in a swift motion, feeling a little dizzy as the room slowly begins to spin from getting up so fast. 

Behind the front counter he crouches, reaching for his motorcycle helmet. But his grip isn't steady, his palms suddenly feel a bit sweaty. The air in the room slightly suffocating.

His mind scrambles as he finally strides for the door, all he knows something is telling him he needs to get out. He’s ready to leave and check on what's happening outside, but just as his fingers brush the cold metal door handle—

A loud bang crashes into the large front window of the studio.

The impact rattles the entire front window, the glass shuddering violently as something smacks right into it with bone crushing force, causing large cracks to expand from the center like a spiderweb, blooming outwards across the glass. The helmet drops to the ground with a loud thud and Jungkook stumbles back in the darknesses, almost crashing back into the front counter as his breath gets stuck in his throat.

Jungkook freezes. His entire body completely paralyzed as he watches a thick, dark gush of red begin to trail down the ruins of the window. His eyes slowly follow it upwards and then…then he sees it.

A face, wedged between the shards of glass.

Jungkook sees the face of a man...except, it can't be. The skin is unnaturally pale, sickly white, dark veins bulging beneath the surface, tiny pieces of glass wedged everywhere into its flesh. Blood coats its entire mouth, dripping to the floor beneath — but it's the eyes… They send a shot of terror right down Jungkook's spine. 

They’re clouded and gray, almost white and eerily vacant, yet somehow, they’re locked right onto him.

Jungkook feels like he can’t take a breath, his chest tight as his eyes grow with complete shock and confusion.

Then, it moves.

Its head twitches in a slow agonized form before it seems to fully register Jungkook's figure standing right across. It cocks his head towards him completely with a grotesque sound of craking and lunges forward, slamming its hands against the glass with inhuman strength. Giving it all his power to break inside. It lets out another groan, a guttural broken sound as it reveals a row of blood stained teeth, the deep red liquid dripping from its mouth.

Jungkook swallows hard. If he moves will it move too? Will it...chase him? He feels like no oxygen is reaching his lungs, or his brain, his mind struggling to even process what he is seeing. That…that can't be real. It can’t be human. All he can do is watch as his heartbeat pounds like a hammer in his chest, louder than the sirens and screams growing outside, louder than the animalistic banging against the window.

That…thing is trying to kill him. It’s going to kill him.

It doesn’t stop. It claws at the glass, smearing the blood, desperate, mindless — growing more violent as it seems to realise its stuck. But the glass creaks more with each hit, trembling under the pressure of each movement, and Jungkook realizes it might not hold up much longer. He has no time.

Move.

He has to move.

Like a spring snapping, his body finally kicks into action. He stumbles backwards, feeling glass beneath his shoes as he tries to hold in a breath, his eyes fixed on the creature as he tries to back away with steady steps. After a beat, he sprints towards the back of the studio, running as his body pushes through the beaded curtain into the back room. 

His hands fumble frantically in his pocket — keys, keys, keys — but his hands are trembling too much to grip them. Fuck.

Jungkooks mind races with a thousand questions colliding all at once. But none of them make sense. None of them are even remotely rational.

That thing. It wasn’t human. Then what the hell was it?

Another jarring bang echoes in the studio, followed by a loud screech. But Jungkook doesn’t look up. He doesn’t have time. His only thought is to get out of here. Fast. He needs to get away from whatever the fuck that is. He needs to get to his motorcycle. He needs to get the police.

His fingers finally curl around cold metal. The keys. With a sharp inhale, he yanks opens the heavy back door leading into the tiny side alley and slams it shut behind him as he rushes out.

It’s dim, lit only by a flickering street lamp near the end, casting eerie shadows across the brick walls. The air is cool and damp, the smell of rain fresh on the damp asphalt and the sound of sirens and shouting voices in the distance become even clearer than before. But Jungkook can't see the one thing he’s looking for. His gaze darts around frantically and he feels a dreadful realization claw at his throat. 

His motorcycle is gone. The spot where it’s always parked is empty. 

Jungkook panics, his hands coming to his hair. Fuck, fuck, fuck. As he looks around helplessly, his breath only grows more erratic. He finds no other option but to run, so he runs to the end of the alleyway, running right towards the screams and tumult, and when he reaches the end, the scene unfolding before him almost kicks him to his feet.

The once quiet street had turned into a horrifying scene. People mindlessly running away from something. But what his eyes land on almost immediately is on a young woman in the middle of street, clutching her neck with both hands, her body swaying as she chokes out for help before she drops to her knees, her body shaking. Jungkook watches in horror as someone else runs right past her, coming from the same direction, white button up shirt soaked in something dark as his features display a kind of terror he’d never witnessed before. Across the street, an older man is pulling down the storefront gates as he locks himself inside, letting two kids in high school uniforms scream and kick as they beg to be let in, screaming and crying.

“What the fuck...” the words escape involuntarily in a quiet mumble to himself, his hands coming to his head.

Jungkook blinks repeatedly, completely aghast. But he doesn’t think— just moves, bolting down the street. His thick leather boots slam against the wet pavements as he runs, his dark hair blows in the air, his skin covered in a layer of sweat as he weaves past a fallen trash can and then a body, his breath ragged as he tries not to slip on the broken glass. The rush of adrenaline coursing through his veins too strong to even feel his body protesting.

Rounding a corner, he nearly collides into another person, but his hands instinctively come up to push them away, almost knocking them to the ground. He doesn’t have a space in his mind to think about it or time to dwell on it. His body acting on autopilot. The more he runs, the more people seem to be running in the opposite direction. Away from something. His legs burn as he sprints faster, but coming off onto the main street of Jongno, he comes to a halt as he takes in the state of the streets, pupils blown as something terrible dawns on his expression.

The city is in shambles.

Everything.

Chaos.

Cars sit abandoned in the middle of the road, their doors flung open, some have crashed into street lamps and traffic signs, into each other at intersections, even buildings, the smoke clouding up into the dark sky. Blending with the red and blue of wailing sirens. People are everywhere. Hundreds of people are running in all different directions — some screaming, some covered in blood, some sobbing and some seemingly unmoving on the ground. Pushing and tripping against each other, running, but most don’t even know what they’re running from, simply following the crowd. 

How many more of those rabid people were there? How far had this spread? 

He wants so badly to be wrong, but something deep inside him tells him this is something big.

He stills for an instant, trying to orientate himself. He scans the street hurriedly for the best route to avoid getting stuck in a crush, to avoid more of those things…but all he sees is the panicked chaos spreading by the second. 

Jungkook feels like he’s outside of his body, like this is a dream, a nightmare he’ll wake up from any second now. He closed his eyes for a second and inwardly prays for it to be just a bad dream. But the air is thick with the acrid scent of smoke and blood, and the pounding in his chest is too real. The world around him still screams, set aflame.

This can’t be real.

This…this can’t be happening.

Just a few meters away from him two figures wrestle on the ground — except one of them isn’t fighting back anymore, and the other is hunched over them, their head buried in the victim’s throat. Jungkook staggers back, his stomach lurching at the gut wrenching sounds of someone being mauled alive, bile burning the back of his throat when he watches infected pulls back, large chunks of flesh dangling from its bloody mouth, dripping crimson.

The truth slams into him, but his mind is till fighting to accept it.

People are killing people. Eating people. Except…they're not people. They’re monsters.

Jungkook scans the crowd for an escape route, desperate. After a moment, he catches sight of the least crowded street, it's right on the way to his place. He takes a sharp breath and runs, runs non stop down a dozen blocks. But as he navigates the frantic roads, he spots something as he runs past a small street. Stopping him in his tracks. He notices a tiny figure huddled up alone at the beginning of an alleyway, wearing bright pink, shoulders trembling and hands pressed over her ears as she sobs violently. 

A child, no older than three or four if Jungkook had to guess. He halts, heart pounding as he registers her small frightened face, streaked with tears. 

He should keep running, he knows he should. His body is urging him to just keep moving, his insides shaking with adrenaline. That’s not his responsibility. He hasn’t stopped for anyone. But the burning images of what he’s just witnessed flash fresh in his mind. And something deeper roots him in place. Something inside him twists, snaps almost, an unfamiliar instinct that overrides his own confusion and fear.

Ah, fuck it. 

Before his mind can catch up with what he’s doing, he rushes into the alley, approaching the child cautiously with slow steps as he gets closer. He crouches down to her level, looking over his shoulder nervously. “Hey, hey, hey, it’s okay,” his voice is gentle but hurried as he searches her face. “Where are your parents? Are you lost?”

The small girl just looks up at him with large, wet eyes and a trembling pout, her hands balled into tiny fists. She doesn’t answer, just stares, whimpering and hiccuping softly, like she’s been warned to not talk to strangers — especially not ones clothed head to toe in black, covered in tattoos and piercings like himself. He glances around, hoping to see someone rushing towards them, any sign of this child's parents so he can just hand her over and run, but there’s nothing, just the crowd at the end of the alley pushing past in frantic waves and yelling, no one stopping to even look in their direction. 

He has to do something.

“Do you…where did you see your parents last-” a loud metal bang echoes in the distance, making Jungkook and the child flinch, a heavy breath escaping him. Fuck, his mind races as he realizes she’s truly alone. The girl just sobs more and he curses under his breath, eyes pressed shut as his mind scrambles for what to do.

He can’t just leave her alone in whatever the hell this is. But what the hell is he supposed to do?

“Uh, alright,” he coughs, throat dry, and speaks softly but hurriedly, trying to mask his unease as he reaches out his hand. “Come with me. It’s not safe here. I’ll… I'll help you find your parents.”

He’ll take her home, get her out of danger and call the police. That’s what he should do. 

It’s the right thing to do.

Okay. 

He hopes she knows he’s only trying to help. God, his pulse races every second he’s standing here still. They need to move. Now. She just stares at him, uncertain, then slowly reaches out with her tiny fingers, clasping his much larger hand with a surprising grip. She must see past his intimidating exterior, or be so terrified that she’ll take up any offer of being reunited with her parents, either way, her innocence makes Jungkook's heart sting a little. He can't just leave a child out here, he has to help her before something terrible happens to her or she falls into the wrong hands. He doesn't know what the hell to do, all he knows is they have to run, run right now and get away from this, and-

Suddenly, a piercing, desperate voice breaks through the havoc of noise, loud enough to catch Jungkook's attention.

“Jieun!” 

The sound makes his entire body lock up, his heart jumping in his chest as he turns toward the voice. 

Running towards him, just feet away, eyes filled with worry and tears, he sees you.

Jungkook feels the blood drain from his face. 

For a split moment, the world seems to fall silent. The noise, the screams and chaos, the sirens — all of it blurs into a distant hum in the back of his mind. He feels like the air is knocked straight from his lungs as he slowly takes in your face, a slightly more matured version of a face he once knew every inch of, a face he’d buried away along with every memory he’d tried so hard everyday to annihilate ever since you disappeared from his life. A face he could never forget, not even after four painful years.

It can’t be.

No, no, no-

But it’s real, because there you are. Lunging forward and arms out reaching for the little girl beside him with thick tears of relief flooding from your eyes. The child lets go of Jungkook's hand instantly and her tiny feet pat across the concrete as she launches herself into your embrace, leaving him behind to watch, frozen and stone cold like a statue. 

“Mommy!” She cries.

Jungkook feels his stomach drop. He thinks he's going to throw up.

He must’ve heard that incorrectly.

Mommy? That child is…

He feels like he can’t move, blood cold as he watches you crumble to your knees, gathering the little girl into your arms with a grip that looks suffocating, as if she might disappear into thin air again. Your whole frame trembles as you hold her close, relief pouring from you in loud, choked sobs, your fingers getting tangled in her wet hair as you comb though it desperately.

That’s.. your child?

“Jieun, oh my god, baby. You’re here, you’re okay,” your voice cracks with all the pain your body just underwent, whispering against her temple. “Are you hurt? You’re not hurt are you, baby?”

The last thing you remember is being in the convenience store when the chaos began. When you walked out you had no choice but to run into the crowd. How Jieun was holding your hand and in the blink of an eye, her hand slipped from yours. You turned back, screaming her name, but she was gone, just another small figure lost in the stampede of a city falling apart.

By the time you fought your way out of the crowd, Jieun was nowhere in sight. Your heart is still hammering loudly between your ribs, mind stuck on the past horrifying minutes since she disappeared from your side.

But as you finally look up… all your relief shifts, eyes darkening with shocking realisation that mirrors the expression in the man standing just feet away when you. Heart hammering in your chest as if it recognized him before your eyes do.

You blink once, twice to make sure your eyes aren’t deceiving you. Completely distraught.

If Jungkook thought he was stuck in a bad dream before, he’s certain now this is all a cruel, sick and twisted nightmare. He feels his stomach churn. The weight of clashing emotions and utter disbelief thrown over him. So many questions he can’t yet voice crashing into him like a bucket of ice cold water, making his blood run cold.

This has to be some kind of sick joke. 

All of it. 

“Jungkook?” Your voice trembles, barely a whisper, as if the sound of his name out loud might shatter you to pieces.

He’s standing in front of you, drenched from the rain, his wet dark hair hanging messily in his face — so much longer than it used to be. He has new piercings on his face, and his features have definitely matured. He looks…different, yet somehow exactly how you remember him. His big dark eyes lock onto yours, and for a moment, you feel your world stop. 

“Y/n?” His voice cracks slightly, like he’s just been punched in the gut. “Wh…what are you doing here?” but there’s no anger in his voice, just confusion, and perhaps, a hint of something painful. His words hang heavy between you, getting lost in the sounds of the burning city beyond this tiny street, and you feel a paralysing weight on your chest. Your mind reeling beyond comprehension.

You open your mouth to speak, ready to say something, anything. But you feel like you’ve forgotten how to form words. So you close it again, no words come out. His eyes flicker from your face to the little girl clutching your side, and you feel a pit sinking in your stomach. God, please no.

This can’t be happening — not here, not now. 

Not like this.

You want to bolt, to run and not look back like you always do. You wish the earth would just swallow you entirely. But all you can do is stand there, your heart pounding faster in your chest, mouth dry.

You try to step around him, desperate to move forward, to escape this horror. But before you know it, his hand catches your arm. He grips you gently, but with a force that indicates he won’t let you slip away again. His touch almost makes you fall to your knees.

“Come with me.” 

Your body stiffens at his words, and you swat your arm loose of his grip. You lift Jieun into your arms instinctively, fingers curling around her small body as if the mere act of holding her can shield you from everything. From him, from all the pain, from all of this living nightmare.

“No,” you say, the word coming out broken, like your breath is caught. “I can’t go with you. I need- I need to get hob-” 

“My apartment isn’t far,” he cuts in, not giving you space to say more. “We need to get off the streets.’’

You hesitate, watching his gaze scurry between you both again. Everything in you is telling you to just run, to put as much distance as you can between yourself and Jungkook. Willing this conversation to die before it can even begin. Before he can start asking questions you’re not ready to answer. Before you have to face things you’ve already buried deep. Before it’s too late. You need to leave. But Jieun is shaking, clutching onto you for dear life as she whimpers against your chest, and the sounds of screams still ringing in your ears. And there’s infected everywhere. You’re stuck in the middle of a warzone, and you have no idea what to do, no idea where to go.

All you know is you need to get Jieun out of this. Away from danger.

“Have you not seen what the fuck is going on? People have gone fucking insane!” His tone grows harsher now, trying to knock some sense into you. “We need to move.”

A gut wrenching scream echoes from somewhere beyond the alley, closer than before this time. Too close. 

Jungkook swears under his breath, running a hand through his hair, torn between a storm of brewing emotions and the immediate danger closing in. His jaw tightens as he looks behind him then back to you. “Y/n, we need to go. Now.”

You shake your head violently, and you can feel hushed tears burning behind your eyes. You can’t breathe, can’t think clearly. All you can feel is Jieun trembling in your arms.

“Please-” his voice drops, raw and desperate. Almost a plea.

And don’t know when or why it happens, but the next thing you know, your feet are moving. You’re running with everything you have left in you.

Somehow, the world is ending, and you’re allowing yourself to be guided by Jungkook down streets devoured by chaos, heading to the only safe place around you. 

His home.

➵ taglist: @amatun28 @ahgasegotarmy116 @knjs95s @jeoncookiebar @badaspice @lachimolalajeon @tearykth @lovingkoalaface @jcrl99 @hellbornsworld @mortqlprojections @xumyboo @honeymeraki @justanarchiveforfics @iamnotdrunk420 @iveivory @k-p0p-4ever @jksjx @yoonberriez @lotustv @hannahmae18 @eclipsethemagic @bybyash @rjooniesdimples @minimoninini @satisfied18 @pinkpunkdynamite @jheneeko @sungiesworld27 @neuviloved @somehowukook @iohwa-com @lola75111 @hanversace @ot7even @rie-pdf @futuristicenemychaos @chl0buggy @happycheesecakedelusion @busanbby-jjk @minyoongi7016 @stellamalonesolaria @qyurryus-m @ex7stance @dchimminie

to err is to love

synopsis: planning your twins' mario theme bday party with your baby daddy/ex husband makes you start to feel weird things .. but no, you will not walk down that path again !!!

word count: 6k

pairing: dilf!jk /ex husband!jk / ceo!jk x afab reader

genre: fluff, angst, comedy, jk and oc's rich friends spoil their kids 🙄, guest appearance from g idle and enha

authors note: if u have any comments plss put it in the asks bc this is a secondary account😭ily all, this may be a part of a series if the feedback is good. i have winter break for the next three weeks so im popping these fics out very quickly!

read the first drabble here!

to err is to love masterlist

They say you find the purest love on earth by looking into your mother's eyes- and you've never really understood that until you had your own kids.

The pure adoration you have for your children is unimaginable, indescribable, unmeasurable. Your heart aches, is inter-permeated with the sweetest types of love when you think about your children. Menial tasks like simply waking them up for school in the morning, drool on the corner of their small mouths, have your very being beaming with captivation. Even the tiniest gesticulations have you enchanted, an absolute fool for your kids. It takes constant internal berating to remind yourself your kids need discipline, but it's instinctive of you to spoil them, which is precisely why you often find yourself begging your friends to join the three of you in a late night game of Among Us.

Your love for your children is also why you agreed to co habitat with your ex-husband Jungkook.

You and Jungkook were victims of a young pregnancy, one that had you ripping your hair out when you peed on that stupid stick. Though not a teenage pregnancy, getting pregnant at the tender age of 22 wasn't the most ideal of situations. Who knew that such a horrific time in your life would turn into the greatest of blessings?

Jungkook was your first boyfriend; you consider him your first love, basically the only man in the world you have been in a serious relationship with.

The night after your second anniversary date, Jungkook decided that you had him way too obsessed to just let you waltz back into your home, practically having his balls in the palm of your hand. So he insisted that you stay in his car a little bit longer; he then abused his power as son of Jeon Enterprises to take you to one of his dad's luxury hotel rooms. Jeon Enterprises runs Korea's largest and most popular chain of hotels and casinos, and surely his father the CEO was livid once he discovered what his son had done.

His father called him up to his office, and Jungkook was gnawing on the inside of his cheeks when he took that elevator forty stories up. Jungkook took the berating pretty well- after all he had the best night of his life with the girl of his dreams. That was the second most angry he's ever seen his father.

The most angry he's ever seen his father was when he broke the news to his dad that you were pregnant. That day he took a pretty harsh beating that left his ass sore for weeks .

Flash forward seven years his dad is absolutely enamored with his grandchildren, being the principle contributor to how spoiled his kids are- but flash forward seven years later he's also lost you.

A couple years after your children were born, you and Jungkook had your dream wedding in Paris at only twenty four years of age, and three years after that was the grim and ugly divorce.

A series of grievances and humilation that were a result of your relationship left you so broken, and you would never forgive yourself if you allowed yourself to stay with him. For the sake of your children did your relationship remain amicable and cordial; you refused to let them grow up in a broken home.

Your little babies were Haru and Hina, and may or may not be named after your and Jungkook's favorite anime characters; but that's what the younger versions of yourselves decided on and are the names you've chosen for their precious little faces. Your fraternal twins are objectively the cutest little kids you've ever seen, even though you may be a teensy bit biased. Nonetheless the twins wonderfully compliment each other like the perfect peanut butter and jelly sandwhich, which is sorta expected- they literally have the same DNA.

Time has flown by, with your kids entering first grade. Hina's a little clumsy, still falling over her own feet despite having fine tuned her motor skills for the past four years, but luckily Haru's always there to pick her up and wipe the dust from her knees. Even so, your kids are kids, and often bicker and quarrel with each other. Often did you find yourself dragging one twin to a corner of the house whilst Jungkook drags the other somewhere else, sitting them down and having that stern mom/dad talk which encouraged them to love and forgive each other (which may be hypocritical because their parents weren't even capable of doing so). A nasty fight had you and Jungkook almost violently tearing your kids away from each other when Haru dropped a banana right in front of Hina's cart in Mario Kart. just when she was about to get second place.

In fact, it had taken a whole week for Haru and Hina to agree on a shared birthday party theme for their sixth birthday. You were convinced that they would never come to a unaninmous agreement, and almost made the plan to go with the "beach" theme, which you really didn't want to do because that was boring. So you were absolutely delighted when they waddled towards you and Jungkook at the dining table and announced that they wanted a Nintendo theme birthday.

It's yours and Jungkook's deep and profound shared love for your children that have you working so hard to make this party a success. The clock reads 3:40 AM, T minus ten hours until the party starts. Albeit, it would have been so much easier to simply hire a professional party planner, but you both felt so much more accomplished doing it yourself. You and your ex husband Jungkook sit on the floor of your living room, systematically reviewing the checklist of tasks that need to be completed before the start of the party. A giant easel with a huge notepad stands in the middle of the room, and you use a fat ass sharpie to write everything down.

"You'll pick up the cake at ten?" you ask, words muffled from the sharpie cap in your mouth.

Jungkook shakes his head. "Namjoon hyung said he'll bring it, so I'm free to help set up the bouncy house when the guys arrive."

You nod, drawing a fat check mark next to the boxes that read 'cake' and 'bounce house'. You falter in your actions before pondering aloud. "Would it be fucked up to ask Jake and Heeseung to pick up the pizza?"

Jake and Heeseung were your kids' babysitters/tutors for when neither you or Jungkook could be home. Hey, your kids didn't have the new iPad 5's for no reason; work had to be accomplished. Jake and Heeseung were still college students, but a relationship based on courteous trust between you and them had flourished, so you and Jungkook both whole heartedly trusted them to watch over the twins. Jake and Heeseung love your kids, and your kids love them- maybe a little too much. Haru exposed Hina's crush on Heeseung, which made her dad have a splitting headache and Hina burst into tears while she rolled around on the carpet.

They are still broke college kids, so you did feel somewhat guilty asking them to participate in the preparations for the kids' party, hence why you're verbalizing the inquiry to Jungkook.

Jungkook's eyebrows furrow in confusion. "Why would it be fucked up? We pay each of them fifty dollars an hour, so they better be willing to do us some favors every once in a while."

"You're right, and I know we can count on them. Can you ask them in the groupchat?"

Jungkook does so immediately, and you check off the box that reads 'pizza'. You skim over the other boxes, one reading 'costumes', which refers to the handmade Mario and Princess Peach costumes you ordered. You check the box off, the costumes sitting in a box at the corner of the room.

Face paint? Check. Your friend Miyeon said she was happy and willing to paint the kids' faces. You would just have to reimburse her for the price of the materials.

Yoshi and Bowser mascots? Check. Jungkook's friends Hobi and Jimin were forced agreed to put on the bulky costumes to entertain the kids.

Decorations? Check. You and Jungkook collaborated on a plethora of the cutest DIY decorations- and you were absolutely enthralled with how they turned out. You used old Amazon cardboard boxes to create the item boxes in Super Mario; you used little headbands from the dollar tree to create Mario and Luigi hats for all the guests. AndyYou were particularly proud of the turf you used to create a grass-esque backdrop for the photobooth.

Balloons? Check.

Bubble guns? Check

You plop down on your couch, sinking into the welcoming beige leather of the sofa. "I think we're ready," you mumble aloud, stretching out your poor back muscles that were aching from hunching over.

Before your children's father can even sneak a word in, you’re shifting your body so that your head rests on the armchair, yawning dramatically from the vexing lassitude. “G’night.”

Jungkook smiles bitterly to himself at the sweet sight of you drowsing off.

You're awake just enough to feel him gently lift you bridal style, as if you are as light as a feather before he tiptoes up the stairs, careful not to make any thumping sounds that would wake up the kids. This isn't out of the ordinary. Despite not being together, he found himself carrying you and your children back to your respective rooms quite often. Jungkook often returned home late at night. after a long day of work at Jeon Enterprises, to find you and your little twins asleep on the couch, the TV still playing reruns of Ninjago- the twins' favorite show. Quite frankly he's surprised that they didn't ask for a Ninjago or Lego theme party.

Seeing the way you had each twin snug to your sides, your chest rising and falling while light snores escaped your lips made his heart twist and turn in indescribable ways.

The situation at hand is no different. "Wanna sleep in my room tonight?" Jungkook inquires softly, makes you lazily shake your head. "Too intimate," you sleepily mumble. "We're not together anymore, Koo."

Jungkook bites back a response and silently acquiesces. He walks toward your bedroom instead of his, still with gentle steps to make sure his children don't abruptly wake from their sleep. He gently sets you down on your full sized bed, pulling your thick comforters over your body to shelter you from the cold.

Just as he's about to leave, your fingers are reaching out to tug onto the hem of his oversized black tee. "Just tonight," you murmur, eyes still closed.

Jungkook silently nods, slipping into the bed with you. His breath hitches in his throat when you roll over and lean your head in the crook of his armpit, your hand sneaking up to rest on his chest. The familiar and intoxicating scent of your vanilla body spray debilitates his senses and makes his head dizzy.

It takes him a while to fall asleep that night.

-

"What the fuck?!" the blaring screech of your voice rapidly pulls Jungkook from his slumber. He rubs the crust from his eyes with a fist before blinking at his panicking baby mama who is pacing around the room.

"Did we- did we sleep together?" you whisper yell, as if your previous scream didn't already wake the kids up.

Jungkook sighs at your overt reaction, knowing that it was too good to be true for you to ever warm up to him. "No," he groggily responds, sitting up and resting his back against the bed frame. "We just fell asleep next to each other," he clarifies, somewhat dejectedly.

You huff, a pointer finger and thumb coming up to massage your pounding temples. "We can't do stuff like that!" you hiss behind gritted teeth, your hands thrown down petulantly, an incredulous look on your face, which just makes Jungkook scoff.

Jungkook pushes the comforters aside, sitting on the edge of the bed where he just buries his face into his palms and groans. "Yes Y/N, this is the worst thing in the world! God forbid that you lie next to the father of your children!" he enunciates exasperatingly, irritated that you are so unnecessarily and dramatically pulling your hair out at the mere idea of falling asleep next to him! Like he hasn't seen you butt naked; like he wasn't front row at the birth of his children.

You shoot him a dirty look. "We are not fighting on the day of our children's birthday party," you say sternly, eyebrows creased to show him how serious you are.

"I wasn't the one that started it," is all he mumbles before exiting the room, shutting the door a teeny bit harder than usual, the echo of door slamming leaving you somewhat shaken up.

-

"Thank you so much for bringing the pizza," you smile warmly at Heeseung, one of your kids' babysitters, a stark contrast to when you violently snatch the pizza boxes out of his hand and scurry toward the dining room table to arrange the pizzas around the cake.

Heeseung and Jake awkwardly trail behind you, unsure of what to do when you're basically prancing around the house making sure everything is in order.

"The decorations look amazing Ms. L/N," Jake speaks up, marveling at the Nintendo theme party you've successfully put together. You really are satisfied with how everything turned out. From the giant blow up Mario water slide that cascades into the pool to the mini mushroom cake pops, everything is as pretty as planned. The dining table looks spectacular, the grass back drop you DIY-ed is behind a huge neon sign that reads Happy Birthday Haru and Hina! in the same font as the Super Mario logo.

The kids have yet to arrive, only your and Jungkook's friends are spread around the house; some sit at the coffee tables, others lounged around the couch, Hoseok and Jimin in the upstairs bathroom trying to squeeze themselves into their costumes.

"Thank you," you smile sweetly at the two boys. "Honestly I put so much into it I'm starting to feel like it's my party, but I'm really happy with how it turned out."

Heeseung and Jake politely chuckle along to your attempt of a cordial joke; they had to do stuff like that in order to kiss your ass. After all, you did bless them with a very generous fifty dollars per hour pay rate.

"We have a gift for the kids, by the way," Heeseung adds, holding up and presenting two identical chrome gift bags in his hands.

You shoot them a mother like smile. "Thank you so much, guys. The kids are so lucky to have you in their lives," your words trail off and your attention inevitably shifts to the contents of the gift bag. "May I ask what you got them?" you whisper, the side of your palm on the right end of your mouth so that no one would overhear the shamless inquiry.

"Oh, of course," Jake responds, polite as always. "Just a barbie doll for Hina and some pokemon cards for Haru," he elaborates, a gentleman-like smile on his lips.

"Sorry Ms. L/N, we know it's not much but-"

You don't mean to cut Heeseung off with your hasty actions, but you are just so relieved. All yours and Jungkook's friends are so insistent in spoiling the shit out of your kids. A humble and simple gift like the one from Heeseung and Jake is what you have been begging God for. Your kids are six years old for goodness' sake! There is no reason for them to have overtly luxurious and brand name items.

Before Heeseung can finish the sentence, you're grabbing the two boys' wrists and dragging them over to the mini bar, where Jungkook's friend Taehyung and your friend Soojin sit, leisurely chatting and taking sips out of Caprisuns that were perfectly arranged on the snack table. Your friends are certainly a spectacle, both dressed up as if they were attending a top class business meeting instead of a children's birthday party. Taehyung's wearing a suit and tie, Gucci shoes on his feet while Soojin's adorned in a pink blazer and mini skirt set. She looks impeccable, and had it been a normal day you would have complimented her, but it's not.

"You see this?" you hold up the gifts dangling from your fingers, waving it in Taehyung's face, the two of them owlishly blinking up at you. "Barbie dolls and pokemon cards are what my kids should be getting on their birthday, not a Chanel wallet or Gucci tie!" you hiss, gesticulating towards the Chanel and Gucci bags that idly sit on the gift table.

Taehyung smirks at you, raising a brow while he teasingly gnaws on the plump of hit bottom lip. Soojin just raises her eyebrows in amusement; their eyes meet each other before they both burst out into a fit of giggles.

"Y/N, you're such a cute mom," Soojin cooes, reaching out to pinch the apples of your cheeks. Taehyung mirrors her actions, standing up and gingerly patting you on the head.

"Relax, girly pop," he teases. "No one will even know that the wallet was three thousand dollars. Your kid's not even gonna use a fucking wallet. Just take it for yourself," he casually shrugs, his suggestion making you roll your eyes.

Taehyung randomly gestures to Heeseung and Jake, looking towards you quizzically to request an elaboration of who the two were. "Y/N, don't tell me you.." he postulates, giving you a look that can only be described as perverse, and you understand exactly what he's implying. "Does Jungkook know about this?"

"Kim Taehyung," you say sternly behind gritted teeth, your mom tone jumping out. You inhale, composing yourself before you continue. "These are Hina and Haru's babysitters. They're both business majors at SNU," you explain.

"Ah, business majors!" Soojin claps her hands in excitement. "Let me tell you about my investment firm," she suggests with a cheshire smile, gesturing for the boys to come closer to chat.

Taehyung makes a psshh sound with his lips. "Don't listen to her. Her shit's plummeting on the NYSE. Let me tell you about Kim Estates. We're a private company- actually we're looking for summer interns next year." He slyly pulls out his business card from his shirt pocket with two fingers.

And of course, Heeseung and Jake are oggling at the sight, internally celebrating that they got plugged into one of the top socialite circles in Korea.

You shake your head, somewhat annoyed and somewhat endeared at your friends' antics. You rush upstairs to check on your kids, who are supposed to be changing into their costumes: a Princess Peach dress for your babygirl, and a Mario costume for your baby boy.

You step into the master bathroom upstairs, absolutely enchanted with the sight in front of you. Haru looks absolutely adorable in his denim overalls, red long sleeve tee, and red Mario hat. The brightest of smiles lights up your face, and you immediately pick him up, peppering his face with sloppy mom kisses on his chubby little face. Thank goodness he's not at the age to be grossed out by his mom's affection, so he just giggles in response.

Your mother steps out of the closet, Hina in her arms. Your daughter looks like the loveliest girl alive in her Princess Peach dress, a golden crown adorned on her cute little head.

"Oh my!" you exclaim, rushing towards her. "My princess looks so beautiful!" you comment. You reach out to her with a vacant hand and enveloping her securely with a single arm, so you had one kid on each side of your body.

Hina wiggles in your arms, pouting at you. "Mommy, I told you I can walk all by myself!"she complains, pouting at you whilst she glares at you with a not-so intimidating glare.

You giggle, setting her down at your feet. "Sorry baby girl, I forgot that you're all grown up now!" you tease.

Haru who practically worships his sister follows her lead, wriggling out of your embrace before standing adjacent to Hina. You don't mind it. You're not the type of mother that lives in the past, the type that constantly reminisces over when the kids were babies. You live in the present, enjoying every moment before it passes.

Your mother kisses her teeth, making a tssk sound with her lips before she shakes her head. "These kids are getting too entitled," she grumbles, both of her hands coming down to gently slap both of the kids in the back of their heads.

"Mom!" you hiss, kneeling down and rubbing your hands on their heads to soothe the pain.

Both of your children remain tight lipped, knowing better than to talk back to their sometimes violent grandmother. The apple doesn't fall too far from the tree, you suppose, deciding to relinquish any objection against your mom.

"So Heeseung and Jake are already here," you tenderly say, "Go downstairs and hang out until your friends get here."

Hina immediately crimsons, fidgeting in place at the mention of Heeseung, which elicits a snicker from her brother. "I'm going to tell Heeseung hyung you like him today," he mocks, an immature teasing tone in his voice, typical of a six year old.

Hina fumes, jumping down in place with her hands thrown down. "You better not!" she seethes before directing her attention towards you.

"Mommy, tell Haru that he's not allowed to tell Heeseung oppa I like him!" she cries, jumping up and down to prove a point.

You bite your tongue, briefly recalling when you yourself told Heeseung that your daughter harbored a little crush on him. "Haru," you say sternly, "You will not betray your sister. You guys are on the same team," you firmly instruct, eliciting a snobby look from your son.

"Now go downstairs and greet your friends, okay?"

"Okay, mommy!" they chant in unison before racing down the stairs.

Your mother crosses her arms before she lightly exhales. "They're growing up too fast, already knowing what crushes are," she sighs somewhat bitterly. You chuckle lightly, pressing a gentle kiss to her cheek. "Times change mom, kids aren't going to act like how I did when I was a kid."

Your mother simply makes the signature tssk sound with her mouth before vacating the restroom. On the way out, she bumps into your bumbling baby daddy, who politely greets her before stumbling into the restroom. When you lay your eyes on him your breath hitches in your throat, because he looks so good. Since the divorce you swore that you would never go back, but he looks so daddy in his white button up, sleeves rolled up to his elbows to show off the tattoos embellishing his forearms.

You're pulled out of your trance by his rambling. "Hina still has a crush on Heeseung?" he hisses, the most mortified haze on his face.

You just shrug, knowing how perplexed he gets at the mere thought of his daughter being romantically involved with somebody. Jungkook paces around the room, grumbling incoherent phrases to himself. "Y/N, should we get new babysitters?" he asks, to which you shoot him an incredulous look.

"No!"

"I just don't want Hina to start loving him more than she loves me, like what the fuck!" he grumbles exasperatingly, which makes you laugh a little.

The harmonious sound of your laughter pulls him from the wormhole of his thoughts. "So this is funny to you?" he satirizes, approaching you as you giggle.

"Yes," you curtly respond, making Jungkook playfully roll his eyes. A brief moment of silence washes over the situation, and you feel the urge to fill the void.

"Look Jungkook," you begin, trailing off a little while you lean against the bathroom counter. "I'm sorry for overreacting this morning. I guess we never really discussed boundaries," you continue, "And-and you are the father of my children so I guess sleeping next to each other shouldn't be that bad- I don't know." You begin rubbing your biceps with your palms, suddenly self conscious of yourself.

Your diffidence softens Jungkook, a familiar ache pounding in his chest. "Hey Y/N, it's okay," he quickly expresses to assuage any insecurities that are bubbling inside of you. He has always been a fool for you. "I think it would be productive to have a conversation about boundaries," he communicates, as polite and sweet as ever. You slowly nod, purposely not replying so that he would have to say something.

"So boundaries?" he ponders aloud, making his way towards you. "Can we hug?" he asks, opening his arms a little, making you pout at the ridiculous question. Nonetheless, you walk into his embrace and wrap your arms around his torso, only momentarily before you step back. "It would be weird if we didn't," you laugh, making him raise a brow.

"What about kissing?"

He asks the question with no particular tone in his voice; he looks serious as ever as he gazes you with his doe eyes, and it makes you gulp. His words have a profound effect on you, making it feel as if your guts are twisting up; you shoot him a firm look to disguise the butterflies bursting in your stomach.

"Jungkook, we can't do this."

"But why not? We live together, have kids together, why can't we?" his eyebrows are furrowed in desperation, and you have to rip your eyes away from the sight in front of you.

"No Jungkook," you calmly explain before inhaling deeply. "We tried before and It-it didn't work out. I don't want our kids to live in a household where their parents are constantly breaking up and getting back together."

Jungkook sighs, sitting on the ledge of the bathtub where he rests his elbows on his thighs. He purses his lips, attempting to conjure a redeemable response.

"Love," you blurt out. "Love. We can't do this because there's no love."

Jungkook slowly raises his head to peer at you. He does it so steadily that it becomes agonizing; you don't want to see the look on his face. When you see him, he just looks defeated. "Do you really feel that way?' he asks, despondency laced in his voice.

You falter momentarily before you look directly at him and nod. He purses his lips before bitterly nodding to himself. "Alright Y/N." And even if your words pierce through him like a bullet, he still speaks with composure and grace. "Let's go downstairs and wait for the twin's friends to arrive. I'll see you there, okay?" He gives you a polite tightlipped smile before walking out of the room.

Once he leaves, a relieving sigh leaves your lips. You know that no matter what Jungkook thinks he feels, his emotions just aren't a direct reflection of reality. You've been with him long tenough to understand that he's mistaking his attachment to you for love. It was only a matter of time for him to realize that the two of you aren't suitable for each other, that it was better for to remain co parents for the sake of your children.

Jumping back into a relationship would only complicate things and exacerbate the situation for the children. You will not let that happen. You recompose yourself, touching up your appearance in the mirror before rejoining the party.

Thankfully, the party goes exactly as planned. This would surely be one for the books, with the kids frolicking through the grass in the backyard with their water guns and Mario hats. Heeseung and Jake served as excellent chaperones/mood makers/life guards, with Hina on Heeseung's shoulders and Haru on Jake's shoulders whilst they sparred in an intense chicken fight. You swore you almost had a heart attack when Tyler, the baby brother of one of Haru's friends leaps into the damn pool. You jumped in with all your clothes on to pick him up and prevent him from drowning.

On top of that, you find Hina's incessant clinging to Heeseung a little excessive. She follows him around like a kicked little puppy, even waiting outside the bathroom while he takes a piss. Poor Heeseung doesn't have it in him to tell Hina to leave him alone, so you have to force Hina to revert her attention to her friends.

The kids absolutely ate the Yoshi and Bowser costumes up, tackling and climbing on poor Jimin and Hoseok as if they were playgrounds. Not to mention that it was absolutely suffocating and hot inside of the costumes.

"Heejoon! Get off poor Yoshi!" Heejoon's mother exclaims, rushing over to practically rip her kid off Hoseok's shoulders. She shoots you an apologetic look, making you laugh.

Towards the end of the party, Miyeon finally pulled out her face painting kit and painted the most beautiful designs on the kids' faces. Hina had a butterflies on the sides of her chubby cheeks, and Haru had the red Spiderman mask on his.

"Oh, try not to sneeze on me when you get your face painted, alright?" Miyeon captures everyone attention when she yells to the long line of children waiting to get her face painted. She wipes off some kid's saliva on her face and presents the kids with a faux smile, not like they'd be able to tell the difference anyways.

Another highlight of the party was when Jungkook's friend Namjoon showed up with his baby girl, Lauren. Unlike Hina and Haru, Lauren is actually a baby- only about five months old and she is the cutest baby you have ever seen in your life. (After Haru and Hina, of course). Lauren really turned out to be the star of the party, everybody crowding around her just to get a glimpse of the kid. You took plenty of photos of your kids with Lauren, pondering when all of Jungkook's other friends would finally have kids of their own. So far it was only Jungkook and Namjoon. You reckon Yoongi may be next since he recently married.

Once all the kids finally leave, you are spent, exhausted from the long and tiresome day that you just lived through. But hey, the all the kids went home in one piece and that's what matters. With much of your gratitude, your friends stick around to help clean up, but you ultimately decide that you would put the real deep cleaning off until tomorrow.

After showering your children and tucking them into bed, you and Jungkook are left sat in his bedroom with the plethora of multi colored gift bags surrounding you. Your friends and your kids' friends' rich parents have spoiled Haru and Hina so much that you the ground isn't even visible.

Jungkook looks equally spent, roughly tugging at the tie that was once neatly tied around his neck. He runs his hand through his hair, exposing his handsome forehead, and you have to force yourself to look away before you start having inappropriate thoughts.

He settles down besides you, leaning against the wall of his bedroom. He holds up a palm, gesturing you to give him a high five, which you gingerly comply to.

"Good job Y/N. You worked really hard today and the party turned out amazing." He offers his utmost kindness and support as he always does, and it's this cordial atmosphere that makes you think that you and he truly are better off as co parents.

You shoot him a confused look. "You did just as much work, Jungkook. Thanks for being such a great father," you grin at him, noticing how his features light up.

He chuckles lightly. "Well, it's our job," he shrugs.

You purse your lips before agreeing. "I think we're pretty good parents," you say half joking, which makes Jungkook laugh.

"Of course we are, the kids have manners, they're provided for, they're healthy- what else could they need?"

"I mean, you're right, but what if we somehow fuck up and cause them some unintentional childhood trauma?" you ponder aloud, which makes Jungkook shoot you a playfully incredulous look. "I highly doubt it," he says. "You're a great mom Y/N, truly. That's why I admire you so much."

His saccharine voice is laced with benignity, making you feel as if colors are bursting in your chest. Is it really necessary for him to be this sweet? He should have told you that you were a great mom and left it at that.

You turn your head just to see that he is already gazing at you with that sincere glimmer in his eyes. It's the same lovestruck look he had on his face at the wedding, honeymoon- the same look he gave you when he first laid eyes on his children. His adam's apple visibly bobs, drawing your attention to his thick neck.

Jeon Jungkook is and will most likely always be the most handsome man you have ever seen.

The thought terrifies you wholeheartedly, but the implication of it is so exciting- so intriguing that you can't help but want to be sucked back into Jeon Jungkook's world. The notion lights a fire in your heart, and your rationality ceases. Your eyes trail up to his eyes, then back down to his mouth, where you subconsciously lick your own lips.

A desperate haze is painted on his face; his eyes are following yours, ignited curiosity adjuring to know what's on your mind. Yet, he cannot bring himself to verbalize his thoughts, too entranced with how utterly beautiful you are.

He exhales slightly, his hot minty breath hitting your face, and that's when you decide fuck it, it wouldn't hurt to give in just once.

You close your eyes and lean in, gently kissing his bottom lip whilst his lips latch on to your top lip. His kisses are so sickeningly sweet, his tongue sneaking into your mouth to make contact with yours. His palm gently raises to cup your cheeks, cradling your face ever so softly while he bestows you with the most languid of kisses. His lips pull you in closer, the cold texture of the buttons on his shirt making you shudder.

You sigh into the kiss, prompting Jungkook to pull you into his lap, which he does with ease. Your legs sneak around his torso, your arms around his neck to be as close to him as possible.

His hands remain wrapped around your waist, holding you close to him. His embrace is so comforting- so secure and familiar that you want to stay in his arms forever.

To your surprise, you aren't nervous; you're eager as ever. You've succumb to the temptation that is Jungkook, and it feels perfect- it feels right, like you're finally home. The sensation of his lips against yours is so familiar, so comforting, so perfect- as if your lips were made to be against his. Despite it being two years since you've kissed him, the two of you make out as if you are professionals at eliciting the sweetest sounds from each other.

The sound of your phone ringing is what draws you away to him, your eyes glancing towards your phone that lights up. "I think Seojun's mother is here to pick up his iPad- he left it here," you explain to which Jungkook just nods.

"Do you want me to hand it to her?" Jungkook asks, slowly and steadily.

The atmosphere is confusing, because the two of you were just making out as if your lips were magnets and now you're speaking awkwardly to each other.

"No, it's okay- um- I can do it," you say, and then you're stumbling out of his lap and walking down the stairs.

find out why jk and oc divorced here!

So beautiful. A fresh read. Second chance romances are also one of my very favourite troops. Love your writings always ❤️❤️

everyone has done a handful of questionable things in the past, and jungkook was no exception. now, if the questionable thing was going to a past lover's place while pretty drunk, one would probably say 'that was stupid of you' but it really isn't uncalled for. (it happens way more than people give credit for.)

the only catch to this scenario? it was happening right about two seconds ago.

it was messy, he was a mess, this whole situation was messed up. he knew he shouldn't have lingered so long around you at the new years party for work, but he couldn't help it. (the drinks were unlimited and the food was divine, but the way the lights descended on you was a sight for sore eyes. he knew he couldn't stay away, not when you looked like that.) (he wasn't being a creep though.) (oh god, please tell him he wasn't being a creep--)

you were too kind to leave him alone and three-quarters absolutely plastered at the bar, but you were awkward about it. the last time this similar experience happened, both of you were drunk and intertwined together; lovestruck idiots that were the type to make out in front of everyone. the only way to separate you two was when your friends made disgusted faux-vomiting sounds in order to break up the session with laughter, ubers already waiting outside.

so that was how jungkook found himself in the same apartment he half-shared with you nearly three years ago, barely aware that this was real life until you caught him before he tripped over himself. you propped him up so he was leaning on the adjacent wall like a broken ladder, making sure to ask him thrice if he could support himself when you take off your coat and shoes. you helped him with his before guiding him to your living room, plopping him down onto your couch with a heavy huff.

"hey," you murmured, sitting down beside him and patting his chest. his eyes fluttered open, head sloshing to the side to meet your gaze. you were in awe at how his eyes still held the entire universe within them, ever curious and always searching - but you had to clear your throat and look away when you registered familiar affection there too. "how are you feeling? do you need some water?"

"m'good," he mumbled back a reply, a hiccup echoing out right after. you laughed softly as you looked back at him, his face peaceful as he closed his eyes and let himself slide his body towards yours. "m'good, just a little nap will do..." a sigh passed your lips when his body went slack immediately, his ability to sleep pretty much anywhere still going strong. with every fiber of your being telling you otherwise, you couldn't help reaching up to brush the strands of hair out of his eyes.

jungkook jerked awake about forty minutes later, a disoriented groan sounding out when his vision swam a little as he got his vertigo under control. when his surroundings started to clear up and register, a pang of dread hit his chest as he replayed the night's events and tried to add up how he got back here. but with alcohol still in his system, his head only answered back with throbs of pain. he didn't even hear your footsteps shuffling towards him from the kitchen, or that you were in the kitchen the entire time and witnessed him wake up in such a tipsy frenzy. (you had to cover your mouth so your laugh wouldn't trickle out at the sight.)

"here. this might help," you said, holding up a large glass of ice water. jungkook gingerly took it off your hands, eyes downcast as he muttered a thank you. you let him know he could take a shower if he was up for it and that you left out an extra toothbrush for him to have, which he accepted both with wary gratitude.

sobered up and increasingly aware of where he was (how he used to and still does know this place like the back of his hand), he came out of the bathroom toweling his hair dry to find you at your kitchen island, seated on a stool with your back to him. a part of him he thought he had buried long after the break up etched back into the edges of his heart; countless memories of being able to hold you from behind and press a kiss to your right temple.

he shook his head of the haunting images, before clearing his throat and alerting you that he was done. you turned around and flashed a small smile, one that didn't reach your eyes like it used to. it stung a little. "would you like some tea or anything?"

"no, no, that's okay. you've been nothing but kind to me when i was being a prick and crashed here, drunk and everything. i'm sorry - i'll get out of here so you can get to bed. how much was the uber--?"

"jungkook, it's already three in the morning," you frowned now, and it took everything in his power not to reach out and brush it away with his thumb like he used to. his hands physically ached and he cursed himself quietly for always replaying those chapters of his life with you on his spare time. "you can stay, i don't really mind. we can figure out the uber things later, it's no big deal. the couch is all yours to sleep on. the spare pillows and blankets--"

"are underneath, in the storage drawers." he finished quietly.

you blinked, mouth still open from speaking. jungkook feared the worst that he finally blew it, making it incredibly awkward for the fact that exes were in the same place at the same time, in a situation that compromises personal space and conflicting emotions. (at least for him.) but much to his surprise, and your own, you let out a genuine chuckle; small and fond. "yeah. exactly there. so, please, stay the night just so it's safer. you can leave any time you wish - it's the weekend anyway."

and with that, he found himself saying goodnight to you as you stalled a bit by the lightswitch to the living room, eyes portraying something he couldn't quite read fully. before he could ask you if something was wrong, you smiled softly and shook your head almost to yourself; as if you could hear the question coming from him. his heart both grew and cracked a little in his chest at the sight as the world went dark around him.

"goodnight, jungkook. sleep well."

MY HEART 😭 IM SO SOFT 🥺 (cr.)

Aww it's so cute 🥺

Baby Babbles || jjk

》 Genre: romance; fluff; dad!jungkook x mom!reader.

》 Warnings: themes of sadness; disappointment; fear.

》 Request: "So I'm back again with another jk dad au, maybe a cute story where he's tries to teach his baby to say appa (dad in korean) but she stumbles and ends up calling him papa instead, I hope this is okay! <3"

A/n: This was written down so quickly so I hope I got it right, thank you for requesting. ♡

There have only been a few things Jungkook's heart longed for until it made him sick.

The first was to only give his best for his members and thousands of admirers, whether it was memorizing an intricate dance, or pushing his alluring voice to his boundaries until his tattered throat was so sore he could only whisper.

The approval of unattainable perfection was all his heart dwelled upon until he received the love from the world that told him he was more than enough as he achieved his dream at long last.

The second, however, was much more meaningful than perfectly preforming before millions or even creating a melody. It was a gift of fate, as well as the plot of his heart.

It was you.

Since the very second your eyes locked with his, he knew his heart belonged with yours.

His chest ached like never before to be the one who held you when tears ever dared to taint your cheeks or kiss you awake each morning to flutter your eyes.

But once your love was finally his and he placed a golden band around your finger and his time was filled passionate kisses and loving touches as he adored you, he believed he could never hope for another as he deemed his life to be complete; let alone ever love someone that wasn't you.

But once the quiescent laughter of his daughter graced his ears, he couldn't fathom a life in her absence.

He was simply enamored by the small bundle that returned his love so perfectly, from the way she smiled without a mere hint of a tooth shining through her gums to the scrunch of her nose that appeared each time he elicited her laughter.

But it was once she learned to call her parents by name, did he discover he wanted nothing more than to hear his young daughter giggle his name just as she had done yours.

He accepted he would never have her first word when you already held that title, though he was a little disheartened, he couldn't blame her. You were so perfect in his view, he couldn't fathom learning the syllables to beckon him first in favor of you, her mother.

So he remained by her side for hours as she nibbled upon her playthings, attempting to perfect the letters he ceaselessly hoped for.

"Almost there baby, you almost said it right."

The encouragements that flowed from your husband's lips cheered for the incoherent babbles of your daughter whilst his soft irises dotingly admired her play.

Your lips pulled into a smile as you watched them from afar whilst she offered a toothless grin and gracelessly pawed at Jungkook's slender fingers, eager to capture them within her gums as he toyed with her.

"Can you say Appa?" He reiterated his prompting, a ghost of a smile gracing his lips as her head bobbed excitedly instead.

"Please say Appa, little one."

He pleaded, his heart stilled as he cordially awaited his infant, his slender fingers curling into the plush fur of her bear in anticipation.

But instead of her plump fingers grabbing at him as she childishly mimicked what he dutifully taught her- she offered him a watery burble.

And though her tiny lips never mouthed what he so desperately wanted to fall upon his ears, he couldn't stifle the proud smile she elicited from him so effortlessly as he chuckled.

"Appa?"

He carefully enunciated the title, hoping her young mind could grasp the word he desired so much, though he was never gifted with the precious babbles of his daughter.

But his heart fluttered at the melodious giggles that flowed past her lips instead as she wrapped him further around her chubby fingers.

"Baby girl, why don't you want to say my name?"

He sullenly inquired of the little girl that merely pressed her nose to his rather than offer a mere murmur that mimicked his name as he scooped her into his arms where she always knew to be her safe place.

After he bowed down to press a chaste kiss to the ebony fluff upon her head, his poignant eyes gravitated to your consolation.

"Maybe she's just not ready yet. Appa is a lot more difficult to say, Koo." You comforted, fussing over her disheveled locks as her glittering eyes peered back into his, as if she pitited her father's purposeless attempts to listen to her call his name.

"She loves you more than anything, Kookie. It's just one of those things that demand time."

He simply nodded into your soothing to conceal the sadness that welled within his chest before he lovingly nuzzled her fluffy cheek.

Though his heart pained him with disappointment, her charming giggles were all that mattered to him first and foremost.

"I would wait an eternity for you, little bun," he assured his smiling little girl whilst he placed her within your hold, though her tiny fists still clung to his finger.

"Because that's exactly what it feels like." He wistfully confessed, drawing away from her hold to gently kiss your lips before you parted from him to put her within her own blankets.

But just as his slender finger pulled away from her feeble hold, a quiescent whine emerged from the miniscule space that remained between your tightly pressed forms.

And her incoherent murmurs quieted as her trembling lips gracelessly mouthed the word she adored the most until she called to him.

"Papa!"

His heart stilled, in awe of her mispoken syllables that now seized his heart with a euphoria whilst his lips pulled into a glowing smile as each of you simply melted.

The crinkle of his eyes warmed your heart as he cuddled her closer to celebrate her accomplishment under your fond gaze.

"She just said her second word, she called me Papa." He chorused, his gentle praises caroling around her as her giggles aligned with your choir of cheers.

His lithe fingers reached to fill the spaces between yours and tug you closer until his lips brushed your ear and his heated breath lathed over your flesh.

"You've both made my heart full, and I can never thank you enough, my light."

Your cheeks burned with his whispers that filled your senses between the sugary kisses he glazed your cheeks with just a moment before he turned back to your daughter with a gasp when she delicately fell over her words once more.

She reiterated the name he taught her, as the child fell in love with all he ever did just as well as he had with her.

"She just called me Papa again!"

You laughed at his rejoicing until his brows furrowed and his eyes flitted around the space where he embraced his beloveds, searching to capture her speech.

"Love, where's my camera? I don't ever want to forget this."

With a saccharine smile coating your lips, you held the weighted object in your hands before you clicked the shutter to still the moment his heart was gifted with every tender reverie or want becoming his to cherish for eternity.

Tag list: @holaaaf @yourwonderbelle @lolalee24 @fanoffandomss

this ascended me to a higher plane of existence

to build a home | chapter four

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

genre: strangers to lovers. angst. loads of plot. smut

word count: 8.8k

warnings: angst. omg intense mutual pining. these two istg. swearing. alcohol. hospital talk and needles. straddling. masturbation (m)

author’s note: i don’t even want to say anything because I can’t keep my mouth shut about how much I love these two fools. and the cute little human. and i feel like if i don’t keep my mouth shut I’m gonna ruin the experience but! i truly do hope you like this chapter. sorry for the delay – she’s a hefty, loaded one because HELLO? things are HAPPENING? things are happening and they’re getting sexy. ok i’m gonna leave now but i will say ggukie self love at the end🤫

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

Chapter Four

There are unfinished entries in your journal. Thoughts that left as quick as they came, some that found you distracted or perhaps even abruptly taken out of the action.

You don’t normally go back to them, mind already too focused on the next thing by the time the blank page finds you again. You’ve come to understand feelings tend to have a futile nature when not nurtured enough and yours play no exception.

You go back to this one, though. Almost like fate. The leather bindings fall from your grasp, hitting the floor upside down. You quickly pick it up, afraid the pages will wrinkle. And then it finds you. It’s undated and relatively short.

There are five senses that make us receptive to the world around us. And if the world was a person, how would it sound like, smell like, look like, feel like… taste like?

“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 in 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 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 his 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★

@roro-in-utopia @yiyi4657 @littlrmills14-blog @namjooningelsewhere @drownforryou @iwanttohitmyself @finelinememories @yukiehyukie @shatzkrinslinzki @bts-fic-recs-mess @kokoandkookie @subtlepjiminie @girl-meetsevil @kookiesbreaky @di0rgguk @bloopkook @babyrosieareroses