The Busy City Keeps Forgetting About Me And My Loneliness. My Yearning For A Company, For Someone To

Happy Birthday to the raven-haired, doe-eyed boy, whose a little bit of smile lifts me up when I'm feeling down. Whose calming voice gives me peace when I'm so lost. Whose a message encourages me to always go forward and never give up. Whose just the whole existence makes me sane. Love that boy with all my heart. And appreciate him so much. Happy Birthday Jungkook and thank you for existing 💜💜💜💜

It's really so cute 🥰🥰. It’s short, sweet, heartwarming. Ahh loved it. And I love nerdy Jungkook who watches Harry Potter 😍

how to get away with kidnapping

Pairings: brother's best friend!jk x little sister!reader (ft. Vmin)

Genre: fluff, coming of age

Warnings: mentions of drugs, lil bit of grinding, they make out and Jungkook likes it a lot

Summary: you're tired of Jungkook seeing you as his best friend's little sister

Wc: 3.5K

a/n: repost alert! I hope this fic gets lots of love bc it has a special place in my heart.

The best thing about having a best friend is seeing them find love and happiness, even if it leaves you alone for the weekend with nothing to do and no one to play Overwatch with.

In all honesty, Jungkook doesn't mind suffering for a few weekends so that Tae can spend time with his new boy toy. Jimin seems like a legit sweetheart and, if he's making Tae happy, then Jungkook is happy.

The clock strikes midnight and Jungkook decides it's a good time to pause his Harry Potter marathon to make his third single serving of popcorn. Thinking back, if he had actually eaten dinner, maybe he wouldn't be pigging out like this.

Fuck it, of course he would be.

Just as he presses play, his phone starts ringing, a least expected name appearing on his screen with a tempting green answer button floating underneath it.

He answers, unsure of why exactly you of all people would be calling him. The last time he got a call from you was several months ago when you requested his help in pranking your brother for his birthday. Since then it's been silently passing each other in the living room, the occasional meme spam over text, and avoiding sitting next to each other when he comes over for dinner because it makes your mother swoon and it's admittedly awkward. Not that he wouldn't be down for a closer relationship with you, but reality is you've never hinted at wanting anything more and he might be murdered by your ridiculously protective older brother, so Jungkook doesn't try.

"Hey, ___, what's up?"

You're practically frantic, although it appears you're trying failing to stay calm. "Have you heard from my brother? He's not answering his phone."

"Tae ditched for his date tonight. I can take a message if you want but I probably won't hear from him until tomorrow, same as you," Jungkook tells you, curious about why you're looking for your brother on a weekend--something you rarely do since starting university--but he's more so worried about you and your increasing levels of anxiety.

"I'm at a party..." you pause as if expecting him to fill in the extensive blanks you've left.

"Are you hurt?"

"I feel...sick."

He blinks, setting his popcorn aside and standing so he can pace the carpet. "Sick? Okay, like in your head or your stomach?"

You're silent for a minute, the only sound being a growing bass in the background affirming your earlier statement of being a party. The song choice is...not to Jungkook's taste but that's beside the point.

"Both?"

Your answer is a question which doesn't provide a whole lot of confidence, but Jungkook continues on nonetheless.

"Is there alcohol at that party? How much have you had to drink?"

"Just a little bit..." you admit quietly, voice small and seemingly innocent. You're cute.

"Did anyone give those drinks to you?" he asks.

"Maybe."

"Who?"

There's a shifting on the other end, as if you're moving to another quieter location. "Just some guy. Why?"

"Don't you know you're not supposed to take drinks from strangers? Shit, just find a safe place to lay low and I'll come pick you up." He's already slipping on his shoes and grabbing the keys to his truck. "Where are you again?"

"57-2 Ok-dong, Nam-gu, Ulsan."

"Be there in twenty." He hangs up and starts driving, lowkey planning out how hard he's going to scold you when he gets there. Underage, inexperienced, innocent angel taking drinks from total strangers at a college party? He thought you knew better than that. Maybe you are still just a naive little girl.

But when he pulls up to the house and sees you running across the yard, arms crossed at your waist, cardigan pulled tight around your body with your head down and your hair blocking your eyes, all that frustration is out the window and replaced with a deafening desire to hug you and make sure you're okay.

He leans across the passenger seat and opens the door for you. "Get in." And you do, gladly.

His truck is tall thanks to the massive tires he recently purchased, so tall you have to take an extra step climbing in. But it's kinda nice that way. You feel powerful riding next to him like this, the front seat expanding like a bench across the middle console so there's plenty of room to scoot from side to side. It feels like you can bulldoze anything, do whatever you wanna do with no consequence. That extra spark of confidence comes from Jungkook's position behind the wheel. You know if you're in his capable hands, nothing bad can happen to you.

"You okay?" he asks first while quickly turning the corner.

You nod, sitting up a little straighter once the house is out of view. "Yeah, sorry for making you drive all the way down here."

"It's all good. I'm glad you called me."

And he is. Genuinely glad because who knows what could have happened had you waited for Taehyung to call you back or god forbid ask some sleazy senior to take you home. Being a senior himself not that long ago, he knows they're not all douchebags, but the ones that attend freshman parties are, not to mention they were probably the ones giving you drinks.

Jungkook glances at you a few times before speaking again. "So, how do you feel?"

"Hungry."

"I thought you were sick?"

"I'm not sick."

"But you said--"

"You thought I was actually sick?" you giggle, scooting to the middle console to reach the air control and blast some refreshing AC on your cheeks. "Ah, that's better."

Jungkook knocks your shoulder.

With a sigh, you sit back and explain. "I just needed an excuse to leave. Too many sketchy guys and girls and all the drinks they offered me were obviously spiked. To be honest, I've only been to two other parties but this one freaked me out. I told my friend I needed to leave but they were too drunk to drive me back." You shrug. "So much for designated driver, huh?"

Jungkook can barely believe it. You were faking? He legitimately thought you were under the influence big time. Over the phone you sounded so weak and helpless but here you are recognizing a dangerous situation and getting yourself out of it like a boss. Of course, you used him to do it but he's not that upset.

"You haven't changed at all," he chuckles, rubbing his eyes tiredly. Now that the adrenaline is starting to leave his system, he's realizing how dark and warm it is in his truck. You're making it warmer sitting this close to him too. Tucking your legs underneath yourself, you lean against his shoulder and let out a big, contagious yawn.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It's not a bad thing," he assures you. "Remember when we were younger and you used to ask me to go with you places you were too scared to go by yourself? I didn't know why you were scared of the toy aisle but, I mean, I went anyway."

"Hey, those baby dolls could be real creepy, okay?"

"Most little girls liked them, you know."

"Yeah and they all grew up to be serial killers probably," you laugh along with him, reminiscent of when the two of you were only kids, playing hide and seek and chase--although you distinctly remember being the one doing all the chasing.

Jungkook shrugs, bouncing your head and it makes you feel like a kid again. "To be honest, I was kinda surprised when you told me you were at a party."

"Why?" you ask, lifting your head to eye his handsome profile glowing within the dark with each passing street light. "What's so shocking about me going to a party?"

"You were always the responsible little sister type. Remember how you used to call me 'brother kookie' all the time? You would look at me with those massive, pitiful eyes and ask me to play house, but like, all we did was pretend to cook and clean your Barbie mansion."

He could be imagining it, but did you just move away from him?

"Yeah, but that was a long time ago. I haven't called you that since I was six." You tuck your hair behind your ear and the motion catches Jungkook's eye so he has to look over at you for at least a split second. He doesn't get a good look because of the disappointing midnight darkness and you've lowered your head and turned away.

The air is thicker now despite the AC cooling the inside of the truck to a comfortable temperature. Your hair is being slightly blown and goosebumps race up your arms. Jungkook used to pride himself on being able to read your mind. He always knew where you'd hide during recess and what Disney movie was your favorite and what you wanted to eat before you even asked. But recently, he's faltered. You're not the same little girl you used to be. You grew up and things weren't supposed to get complicated, but he can't help but imagine how things might be if you knew how he looks at you now.

He clears his throat. "Either way, I'd hate for you to get into trouble because of some stupid seniors. You can always call me. What else are friends for--"

"Shut up."

The car halts at a red light, illuminating the inside of the truck in the harsh color. He can't tell if the cherry shade on your cheeks is from you or the traffic light. Your brows furrow to an unattractive point, pouty lips pairing with them to perfectly portray how sour your attitude has suddenly turned.

"Okay," he whispers, eyeing the space between you and him. "I'll shut up now."

And he does...until the light turns green. You didn't really want him to shut up completely. Just to shut up about that specific relationship dynamic. Dropping your shoulders, your head lands on his shoulder again.

"Did you wanna stop and get food somewhere? You said you're hungry. What do you want?"

"McDonald's," you answer without a care in the world, your lips turning up when his melodic laugh fills the vehicle and all of a sudden you're not so sour anymore. "What?"

"Nothing, just," he covers his mouth in an attempt to calm down but something must be seriously amusing to him, "fees like I should've known that's what you were gonna ask for."

You blush. Thank god for unevenly spaced streets lights to give you an extended period of darkness to hide in.

"Alright," Jungkook agrees, tapping the steering wheel to the beat of a familiar song, "McDonald's is it. Oh, I need to stop for gas first. Let's just stop right up here."

He pulls into the nearest gas station and parks beside the pump with practiced precision. It seems the large wheels on his truck don't have any effect on the accuracy of his driving. That's hot somehow.

"This won't take long," he promises while unbuckling.

"Jungkook?"

"Yeah?" He looks over his shoulder, near inches from popping the handle on his door.

You've gripped your hands into fists in your lap, bottom lip trapped between your teeth while you muster the courage to say what you want to say.

"I don't want to be your little sister anymore."

As soon as the words leave your lips, Jungkook swallows. There are several ways he can translate this, but which one is the right way? Subtle light from the gas station canopy meant to help drivers see in the dark shines upon your features, the soft, somewhat poor lighting only making your delicate face look that much more mature...and nervous.

"To be honest, I haven't felt like your little sister in a long time."

Scooting closer until your shoulders press rough against each other, the mere proximity makes Jungkook's head spin. Not like you haven't been this close to him before, but if he thinks about it, you kind of haven't. Not like this anyway. Not wearing what you're wearing and looking at his lips the way you're looking right now.

"You don't want to be my little sister anymore?" he repeats, buying time to process. "O-Okay. I guess that's a good thing."

Your head drops into a cute tilt. "It is?"

"I mean, we aren't related, you know?"

"Right."

"To be honest, I haven't looked at you like that in a long time. Like a little sister, I mean. But I'm not sure what I can do about it."

Your body angles itself towards him, breasts pressing against his side and hand sliding across his thigh. Your movements are slow but eager. It's clear to him what you're initiating here, just like it's clear to anyone who might peek through his windshield. It doesn't matter, Jungkook isn't about to stop you. Your hand on the inside of his leg sends goosebumps across his skin and makes his whole body shiver.

"You're my best friend's little sister, I mean, he would kill me if he found out that I liked you," he tries to remind himself of who you are but obviously it's not doing much because in the next moment he's got his hands gripping your waist and pulling you into his lap. "I thought you wouldn't be interested in your brother's nerdy friend."

"You thought wrong," you giggle, tracing your fingers up the sides of his neck and into his hair.

"I guess you haven't met all your brother's other nerdy friends." The deep chuckle in his throat is hot but not nearly as hot as the bulge in his pants pressing between your legs. When you test with a roll of your hips, his cheeks turn an adorable pink. "So, where do we go from here?"

"How about we start with this?"

The kiss is desperate, passionate, and you both realize long overdue. Jungkook can't believe the pressure he feels release from his chest when your mouth finally, finally overtakes his. He has to tilt his head back until it hits the headrest to accommodate for the height of you straddling his lap in his truck.

Holy fuck you're straddling his lap in his truck.

Your waist beneath his palms is so perfect and when he pinches it, you squirm a little and grip his hair to hang on. Everything about you is so soft except for the way you kiss him, something he's finding more and more attractive, the thought of such an innocent, sweet girl breaking the rules for him. The good girl being bad for only him.

It's so wrong but shit, it feels so right. He can't imagine anything else giving him the kind of adrenaline rush like you're giving him. With no other way to accurately express his lust for you, Jungkook spreads his thighs and pulls you closer until your clothed core is sitting directly over his hardening cock, warm and already damp.

Your tongues battle for superiority but Jungkook falls weak when hears you moan for the first time (hopefully not the last).

"Fuck, you sound pretty," he whispers to you between kisses, guiding your hand to feel him through his jeans, "touch me--"

Just as the beg request leaves his lips, his entire lap jumps, lifting you with it when his phone vibrates in his pocket, and your head hits the ceiling of his truck.

"Sorry!"

He can't as well not answer it, but with you chillin on his crotch, he really doesn't want to. What is he supposed to say? 'Sorry, I was making out with your younger sister. Hope that's cool.' With one hand still holding your waist, he swipes the green answer button and puts it on speaker.

"It's okay," you sigh, rubbing your head and digging his phone out before hesitantly showing him the screen. "It's my brother..."

"Hey bro, how's the fancy date?"

"Dude!" Taehyung's voice sounds loud and panicked on the other end, causing you both to flinch. "It's ___, she's been kidnapped!"

"Kidnapped?" Jungkook repeats, eyeing you hide a smile behind your hand, quietly smothering a giggle. He shushes you, trying to keep a laugh in himself. "Why do you think she was kidnapped?"

"She called me but I missed it, and when I called her back, she didn't answer. I went to the party she was at and her friend told me she left with some weird man in a truck. I'm freaking out, bro! What if she's hurt? There's no telling what he's planning to do to her or--oh god, what he's already done. Jungkook, we have to call the police!"

"Whoa whoa whoa, wait a second," Jungkook acts quickly once he hears Taehyung's alarmed state getting out of hand, "it was me. Dude, that was me. I picked her up in my truck."

Taehyung gasps, "You kidnapped my sister?!"

Your laugh escapes in beautiful echoes throughout the front seat. Surprisingly, Taehyung doesn't seem to notice, but god damn, Jungkook does and he feels himself falling for the sound of your laugh just as much as he does your smile.

"What? No I--" he sighs, unable to keep his eyes off you. "Yes, I kidnapped her. Alright? She's finally all mine! All those years of waiting and waiting and...she's finally...mine."

His lowkey confession to your kidnapping has your heart leaping within your chest. Bravely, you fall forward and place a kiss on his lips. If it was anyone else on the phone in any other situation, Jungkook would have gladly hung up and thrown his phone away, followed by his shirt and your supposed innocence, but there's a time and a place for all that later hopefully.

"What are you talking about?" Taehyung pants, out of breath from freaking out.

"Well, when you didn't answer, she called me, and I went to go get her. She's perfectly safe. Here, talk to her." He hands you the phone and lets you sit back onto the seat. "Take your time. I'll fill up the tank."

Now standing outside with the driver door shut and the phone off speaker, Jungkook can't make out exactly what you say, even if he was paying attention.

You kissed him. His head is still reeling.

How long have you wanted to do that? How much time have you two wasted silently avoiding each other or trying to convince your mom that you're just friends? Jungkook knows. Too long.

The price continues to rise as his truck fills with gasoline, enough to get you to the dorms and himself back home at least. Unless...you want to come home with him? He slaps himself on the head for even thinking something like that. Even if you did, there's no way Taehyung is letting you out of his sight for the next week and a half after his panic attack tonight.

Maybe it'll be different this time considering Jungkook also likes the idea of getting in your heart. (Talk about Hallmark, that was so cheesy, I'm sorry.)

What is he supposed to do now that you know he likes you? He can't ignore his feelings anymore or pretend they're not real, especially since he's discovered you feel the same way. But that doesn't change who you are. His best friend's little sister.

What a fanfic trope. What a Hallmark moment.

Saying Taehyung would murder him in his sleep isn't too much of an exaggeration in Jungkook’s mind. He can't help but remember that time some guy from your class asked you out for coffee and Tae practically went berserk on the dude's ass. Jungkook is 90% sure you didn't like Yoongi anyway, but the fact remains that Taehyung isn't one to let people near his baby sister easily, especially people who want to get in her pants.

For now, he'll print his receipt and try to mentally prepare himself before climbing back behind the wheel.

"Everything okay?" he asks, starting the truck again while you buckle in.

You hand back his phone, the call ended. "Yeah, he's satisfied for now."

"Cool."

You spy his hands on the wheel and his foot on the gas but he's not driving. He hasn't even put the truck in drive yet, but his eyes are glued to the road like he's going a million kilometers per hour. You're about to ask if he's okay when he suddenly looks at you.

"Could I kidnap you again sometime, maybe next Friday? We could see a movie or something. Get food. Talk about...us?"

"Yeah," you reply softly, scooting closer so you can hold his arm. "I'd really like that."

You always thought his smile resembled something familiar, but it's not until this moment, when he breaks into the biggest, most precious smile you've ever seen that you recognize what it is.

He starts towards McDonald's, listening to you read off what movies are playing next Friday and thinking to himself two thoughts:

One. He's really excited to see where this goes.

Two. Taehyung is gonna kill him.

..

Are you going to Stay?

(Fuckboy! Jungkook x Reader) (Idol au) (Soulmate Au)

Summary: It’s been a year since he last saw you, and every day he misses you more. It was only a matter of time until he turned up at your door asking for another chance.

Tags: angst with a happy ending, best friends to lovers, Themes of unhealthy coping mechanisms, sexual tension, emotional intimacy, physical intimacy, brief sexual scenes, Jungkook really loves the reader’s thighs, Touch starved Jungkook, Mentions of hookups, talks of love languages, alcohol mention, Jungkook is intoxicated for most of this.

W/c: 6.4k

Song rec: Jk- Still with you 

A/N: there is a lot of time jumps in this where Jungkook is thinking through his memories while drunk, so if it sounds confusing that’s the point. this is really near and dear to my heart- I wrote the bulk of this in one hour after listening to jungkook’s song still with you. it is directly inspired by that song. A lot of the dialogue in this story is based on things that have been said to me or I’ve said to others- so yeah- hope you like this self-indulgent story! 

“Of course I’ll never turn you away- but…do me a favor Jungkook, and don’t come back until you’ve decided what you want from me.”

One year. It’s been a little more than one year since he’s seen you and still- the last words you said to him haunt him as he walks through the rainy streets of Seoul. His fellow strangers on the sidewalk giving him a few weird looks for not having an umbrella.

He pulls up his facemask a little more, the bucket hat soaked through to his hair. The cold rain feels good against the back of his neck- the contact startling. Maybe Jungkook’s just too touch starved to make the right choices right now. Maybe its because he only wants someone to touch him if it’s you.

It didn’t always use to be that way. before he’d met you; he’d regularly needed a more sexual outlet for all his frustration, excess energy, and stress. It was healthy right? To need that? To want a connection without any strings in his line of work. 

Jungkook is a truthful person, and he stays that way by only ever lying to himself.  

Keep reading

Date in a Box

Words: 9.7k Genre: Fluff. So much fluff. 

Read more at Service Series

He called and you came running.

Knock Knock.

The door swings open; a boy dressed in a white shirt, blue jeans and timberlands greets you with frightened doe-eyes. “Are you-”

“Yes I am.” You push your way in, not having enough time to slip off your shoes politely. You take one quick scan of his apartment. “How much time do we have?”

“She’s coming in five minutes.” He says in alarm, scrambling to look at the clock.

Keep reading

redemption | jeon jungkook

part two of stoic

➛ pairing(s): ex-husband!jungkook x reader

➛ genre(s): angst, smut, exes au

➛ summary: it’s been years since you and jungkook got a divorce and separated, and you’re both suffering in your individual ways. jungkook, still dealing with the consequences of his selfish and heartless actions, and you? you must tackle life as a single mother…

➛ warning(s): swearing, mentions of infidelity and untrustworthiness, mentions of divorce, jungkook gets his karma and reader is much more cautious now, special guest star namjoon, dom!jungkook, sub!reader, fingering, oral (fem. receiving), unprotected vaginal sex, rough sex, crying during sex, breast and nipple play, creampie, squirting 

➛ word count: 6,830 words

➛ author’s note: after such high demand, a second part has been made and this will be the final one. hope you all enjoy <3

masterlist

Keep reading

to build a home | chapter two

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

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

word count: 8.8k (y’all still need context but introduction to oc! and her super cool best friend I’m growing emotionally attached to)

warnings: angst. more angst. swearing. more crying baby </3. and more crying jungoo </3. also, jungkook’s an asshole (im sorry ok my mans is going thru it can u blame him). but! jungkook best dad. mentions of alcohol. mentions of abandonment. that’s pretty much it. last one was too heavy.

Author’s note: hi <3 first of all, i wasn’t really expecting my little (sad) story to get half of the attention it’s getting so i want to make sure i come in here and say thank u from the bottom of my heart if u took your time to read it and/or leave nice comments. you’re the best. now, getting to the juicy stuff – hi. this was a handful and im sorry but also im not??? this chapter introduces new characters that were so much fun to write and also our sexy nanny oc queen!! i almost almost blue balled u and left their first meeting / thoughts on one another for the next chapter but i honestly got so excited about it i couldn’t do that to yall. jk has no idea tho. his heart still hurts its been two minutes be patient w him. but the very last paragraph… yeah. thats all im saying. anyways ENJOY <3 xxxxx

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

Texts in bold + italic resemble a recollection of past events.

Chapter Two

You love Saturdays, not afraid to fall into the cliché that coincides with pretty much 99% of the population that looks forward to the weekend. But Saturdays feel different. And here, let me throw in another cliché – they only get better the warmer the weather gets. A Saturday and summer type of person? Predictable. But you’re not one to shy away from clichés. You’d be out of a passion and perhaps have grown to hate your degree, making your four years of higher education exceptionally tedious. You’re diverting, though. Point is, you’re not afraid of being a little predictable in the name of a good cliché.

You woke up this morning and the smell of freshly baked goods had you jolting out of bed. The mornings are still chilly and you keep making the mistake of heading straight to the kitchen barefoot. Excitement usually has you making it in four to six strides and that’s all it takes to be embraced by warmth again. Your kitchen is tiny and the oven does wonders at keeping it in a steady cozy degrees Celsius.

“Good morning, lover.” Lucy’s sweet voice adds to the warmth.

Roommate, best friend and future pastry school graduate – the pet name you two share fits her like a glove. A human being so sweet people stick to her like flies often do to sticky, yummy forgotten treats. Her graduation is coming up in a couple of weeks so she spends her weekends diligently perfecting recipes. You are able to bask in the benefits as her personal guinea pig. And it’s never bad so you gladly comply.

“It is indeed, lover.” You return. She laughs, placing a scone in your hand. It’s plain but nothing about it feels so when you take a bite. “What do you even put in these? Crack?”

“Ding, ding, ding!” She exclaims, pointer finger in the air for dramatic effect. “Here, coffee – freshly brewed so you better not-” but before she can continue, you’re already burdening her existence, a handful of ice cubes falling into the drink she’d poured in your favorite jar.

“Sometimes it’s better to apologize than to ask for permission?” You look at her sweetly, feigning innocence.

“You are stripping my perfect scones of flavour by numbing your tongue with all that ice, ___!” She whines, making you laugh.

“Wait ‘til you see how I lather it with cheap, synthetic strawberry jam.”

“I give up on you.”

“No, you don’t.” You say, big smile plastered on your face. She smiles back.

You sit opposite her, propped up on a stool before your little kitchen counter and watch her work as you reap the benefits.

“You know… I have a good feeling about today. Today’s the day. I just know it.” She tells you.

“You think I’m breaking into the corporate world on a Saturday?” You ask, incredulous but humour lacing your tone.

“Shut up. You don’t even want in the corporate world,” she begins, eyes still glued to her scones, “just… keep your eyes open. You never know.”

“Will do.”

~

With eyes wide open, you make sure they’re glued to the half a dozen of children spread around the kid’s section of your local library. Saturdays are good because of scones and the undivided (although at times a bit disperse) attention of your very enthusiastic book club of keen readers aging from 4 to 6. Best age to start if you do say so yourself.

Today’s pick is Julián Is a Mermaid and it seems to be sparking a fairly good discussion within your avid readers.

“I want to be a mermaid.”

“Well, you can’t. it’s a book. Miss ___ say’s its fiction.”

“Miss ___ says we can be whoever we want as long as we’re kind.”

“Yeah, but mermaids don’t exist!”

“Okay, okay! Eyes up here. Let’s discuss calmly.” You break the discourse, even though you were secretly enjoying it. “Although it is true that this is a work of fiction like Seojun says, we can be whoever we want, like Kisoo says. In this case, Julián being a mermaid is simply a fun way to let us know that. We prefer fun stories, don’t we?”

They all break into a cheer, affirming that yes, indeed, we prefer fun stories. You give yourself a mental pat in the back. Good saves are a talent you’ve learned to master with little kids who oftentimes lack a filter. You wish you could be like that at times. Bold but soft and (most often than not) kind.

The clock on the wall nears 12 o’clock and you close the book in your lap, turning once again to the kids.

“Okay, kiddos! Did we have fun?” Your question is received by yet again another burst of cheers. You giggle. “Are we looking forward to having even more fun next week with Duck Rabbit?” Another cheer, this time louder. You feel like a Rockstar. “That’s what I like to hear. Okay. You guys can play, draw or have some free reading time until pick up.”

They disperse, gathering in little groups or finding various interests around the colourful play section surrounded by high shelves heavy with more books than you can count.

You engage into brief conversations with the parents as they reunite with their overly hyper children, swarming them with detailed recounts of their participations for the day, their favorite parts of the story and loads of bold ‘I want to be a mermaid!’ statements. That’s usually your queue – you’re not one to break a heart with the harsh truths of the world.

There are only two kids left, quietly sat in one of the small tables, fully invested in their drawings.

Your eyes divert to the window and you see Dae’s mom. A pretty brunette that, if you didn’t know better, would be convinced she’s the ripe age of twenty-three, just like yourself. You’ve actually found yourself looking forward to your small talk with her during pick up – time and time again making sense of Dae’s sweet and light-hearted personality through his mom.

You walk over to the little boy, kneeling in front of him. “Hey, Dae…,” you say softly, not wanting to disrupt his focus.

“Whaff?” He replies, turning to you slowly, one eye still glued to his drawing. You melt at the slight lisp he gets sometimes when he’s a bit distracted.

“Look who’s here.” You say, and right that moment his mom makes her way through the doors.

“Mama!” He all but screams, voice so sweet it sounds gooey, making you melt.

“Ahhhhh, hi baby! Did you have fun? We missed you so, so much. Daddy’s next door getting you donuts.” Mai says, knees coming to hit the ground as she wraps the little boy in her arms, a mischievous smile at the mention of sweet treats.

“Donuts?” It’s the only thing Dae can grasp from her sentence.

She laughs. “Yes, but only after lunch, okay? We’re going to grandma’s today, remember?” he nods, excitement written all over his face. Only now do you notice just how much it resembles his mother.

Mai gets up from the ground, sending Dae off for his backpack before she turns to you, smiling.

“___, you make his Saturdays so magical. My husband is considering never taking him to Disneyland again.” She says, earning a laugh from you.

“Please, don’t let me be responsible for that.” You tell her, light chuckles still leaving your lips. “They make my Saturdays magical, too.”

Dae makes his way back, coming to stand in between the two of you. He looks up at you, soft curls coming to rest in front of his eyes before he brushes them off.

“Thank you for having me today, Miss ___. I had fun.” He sounds shy when he says it but never once breaks eye contact.

“I had fun, too, Dae. Thank you for coming. Can’t wait to see you next week!” You tell him and he beams at your welcoming words. He softly nods and turns to his mom who’s looking at him proudly, as if he’d nailed the previously rehearsed sentence.

You wave at the two of them and see them out, promptly repeating the same actions as you did with Dae, this time with the last kid and parent encounter of the day. Another sweet goodbye before you’re turning around, ready to tidy up after today’s session.

You’ve only just had enough time to put away the box of crayons littering the floor before the sound of approaching footsteps makes you turn around. You see Mai walking towards you, Dae nowhere to be seen this time.

“Hey, is everything alright? Did Dae forget something?” You ask.

“Hi again. Yes, yes. Everything’s alright. I wanted to talk to you actually.” She says, finally coming to a stop in front of you.

“Oh… sure. What’s up?”

“What are you doing after this?” She asks and immediately realizes how nosy she must sound at the way you wince slightly at the question. “Oh God, I’m sorry. Let me rephrase that… what do you do? I mean, do you work, study…?”

You notice her tense up, nerves brewing at her sudden intrusion and you reassure her with a soft smile. You don’t blame her – you’d want to know, too, if your child was spending time with someone who could very well be considered a stranger.

“I, um… I graduated three months ago. Literature. That was my major. I worked the night shift at a bar through most of university. I recently left, though. The atmosphere was getting heavy, I guess,” you say, sparing her the details, “I do work freelance for some publications at the moment, but you could say I’m just… floating for the time being. Looking.” Your admission makes you shy, gaze falling down.

“Oh… I thought you’d be pursuing a career in education.” Mai says, though she doesn’t sound surprised.

“No, no. I volunteer at the book club because it sort of gives me a sense of purpose. It’s easy to lose that when you’ve recently graduated. I didn’t want to feel like my life was in a complete pause. Plus, I like the kids. They keep me hopeful.”

Mai tries her best to keep her facial expression as stoic as ever – offering gentle nods and smiles as she takes in your words. But inside, she’s plotting. You’re too good to be true. Granted, she’s known this for a while – Saturday book club excitement begins as early as Thursday for Dae. Your entire essence feels trustworthy, sweet and patient.

So, Mai plots.

“I have a friend…,” she starts, taking you aback, eyebrows raising up in surprise. “I think he might need your help.”

~

“So? What did you say? Did you agree to it? I told you I had a good feeling about today!” Lucy’s frantic, bits of flour dust her cheeks lightly. She hasn’t left the kitchen since you left this morning and now the scones are accompanied by batches of croissants, madeleines, eclairs – you name it. Her own personal Café de Fleur.

You have to admit, her excitement is contagious.

“I mean, I agreed to have her give him a call. To put in a reference for me. But I don’t know, Lu.” This earns you a scowl from her

“What do you mean you don’t know? This could be amazing, ___. Enlightening, even!”

“Enlightening is a stretch.” You say, hand coming to rest at your hip.

“Now, don’t be ungrateful. What else do you need? She all but gloated about her more than financially willing single dad friend that’s in desperate need of a hot nanny-” now you’re the one scowling. “Sorry, a nanny. Kids come naturally to you!”

“She’s nine months old! She’s a baby, not a kid. I can’t bribe her with lollipops and picture books.” You protest.

“Even better! Babies are less demanding of attention and bribes. You just have to make sure she stays fed and out of poopy diapers and voila! Happy kid- baby. Happy baby!” she says. At what sounds like a defeated sigh coming from you, she presses, “besides… you could have time to work on your writing, in-between naps or whatever. What other job gives you the benefits nap time does?”

She has a point. It shouldn’t take too much to convince you – you do need the job. The savings you’ve been amounting to since university will not last you forever and you couldn’t solely rely on the hopes of getting your big break as a writer overnight.

“Yeah, I guess you have a point.”

“Plus… being a single parent must not be easy.” You smile at your friend’s inability to remove her feelings from the vaguest of situations. “You could actually help out a family more than you’d realize, ___.”

Her words make your heart sink a little, even though you can’t quite put your finger on why. As much as you make fun of Lucy for shining subjectivity into every context, you can’t help but admit you’re the same. You don’t know anything about this family; let alone anything that would spark the uneasiness that tugs at your heart at her words. Yet you can’t control the flutters in your chest at Lucy’s suggestion, insisting you could be of help.

In that moment, you find yourself hoping you can be.

~

It’s Monday.

Jungkook hates how much of a Monday it feels like. He was never one to fixate on the days of the week as such – usually having his secretary keeping track of his days, making sure to fit personal time and Soori’s doctor’s appointments in the middle of his crazy work schedule. He’s never attached days to feelings.

But today is a Monday and it feels like Jungkook’s own personal idea of hell. The weekend was hell, too. He decided to bring Soori along on his business trip, her recent clinginess to her father breaking Jungkook’s heart during every parting. Mai tries to soften the reality around the edges a bit, reassuring him she only cries for a little longer once he leaves her in the mornings before heading to the office.

Suelgi had tagged along for the trip and would babysit during the day as Jin and Jungkook oversaw the advancements in the project. He felt proud. This was the first of his hotels that he has overseen from the very beginning. An idea that’s now materialized into a twenty stories high beach front resort. Soori was not in the mood to necessarily celebrate, though, amounting to a two-day, one (sleepless) night hellish weekend trip.

The back and forth has really been taking a toll on her schedule as well, leaving them with odd feeding hours and a regression in her sleep training that has Jungkook fearing for his ability to function on sole motor skills.

He’s in the middle of changing her diaper as she fidgets in his grasp, mindlessly playing with a bunched-up sock. He squints. His bunched-up sock. Where did she even get that? He checks his watch – 7:20 AM. Not bad. Mental pat in the back, because he basically lives off his own reassurance nowadays. The pleasure of the accomplishment of not running late for once is short-lived as his phone starts ringing loudly. His eyes search for it and although he can hear its proximity, it’s nowhere to be seen.

“Fuck.” He mutters. Soori coos at him and he covers her ears quickly, “you didn’t hear that.”

The ringing stops and he continues his task of getting her clean and changed for the day. Another short-lived moment of bliss as the ringing fills the walls of the nursery again. Now he worries – it could be a work emergency. Or Suelgi reaching out to let him know something came up and she won’t be able to look after Soori today. He takes another glance around the room and sees the buzzing device camouflaged by a family of plushies on top of one of Soori’s toy baskets. It doesn’t stop ringing.

“Don’t move, okay?” He says to Soori, who’s laying on top of her changing table. The second the words leave his lips he realizes the calibre of stupidity the request holds. He closes his eyes, shaking his head in disbelief. “Intermission,” he says, taking a very butt-naked Soori in his arms and heading to retrieve his phone. How did that even get there? He recites a mental prayer in hopes his daughter doesn’t have an accident – one all over his tightly pressed white button up.

Mai’s name flashes on the screen of his phone.

“Hello?”

“Gguk. I have the best news.” She says, way too cheerful for 7 am.

“Enlighten me.” He responds, immediately regretting the sarcastic ring to his voice.

Mai doesn’t seem to mind, he can hear the smile on her face when she says, “I found you a nanny!”

“Send her CV my way. I’ll check it out as soon as I get to the office.” He returns.

“I’m her CV! And her letter of recommendation.”

“No.”

“Gguk-”

“I’m not going to leave my daughter in the care of someone that doesn’t have the right qualifications and/or enough years of experience to lack a proper CV.” Jungkook’s voice is stern and he knows Mai is rolling her eyes on the other side of the line.

“Oh, Ggukie. You’re funny. If employment worked that way you’d be out of a job.” Her voice doesn’t hold an ounce of menace but she knows she has to be stern, too.

“Hotels can fail. My daughter’s wellbeing, cannot.” He argues, voice sounding defeated.

“Okay. Hear me out. She’s Dae’s teacher. From Saturday book club – you know how he’s always telling you about it?” Mai explains.

“Oh, she’s a teacher?” He admits that grants him a glimmer of hope.

“Well, no,” and before Jungkook can object again she continues, “but! Gguk, she is sweet, and patient and I’ve seen her with the kids, she can easily reason with them. They love her. And respect her. Come on, just one interview. Get to know her. Let Soori get to know her, too. She can’t be worse than all these nannies you’ve been interviewing that look straight out of that one scene in Mary Poppins. Please?”

Jungkook is about to object again, having made up his mind at ‘well, no’ but before he can begin to form a sentence, he feels a wet patch growing at the center of his stomach, quickly spreading down in a steady stream. He looks down at Soori who looks back at him innocently, unaware of her accident, slightly relieved at having an empty bladder. She smiles at him, a soft giggle falling past her lips.

Now they’re running late.

“Okay.”

“Gguk just- what?” Mai says, astounded.

“Give me her number, I’ll have my assistant arrange the interview.” He sounds defeated, but Mai doesn’t miss the sudden determination in his voice.

“You won’t regret it, Gguk. Trust me.”

And in that moment, he finds himself hoping he doesn’t.

~

“So, it’s a coffee date?”

Lucy’s voice nears as she enters your room, pushing the clothes that you’ve aggressively scattered all over your bed to the side. She takes a seat, hands wrapped around a scolding hot cup of tea. You can see the steam dance out of the mug in little twirls.

“No. it’s not a coffee date. His assistant just asked me how I liked my coffee. Must be a rich people thing, you know?” You argue.

“Politeness?” She asks, raising a brow.

“No. Planning ahead of time.”

“And what did you tell her?” She presses, bringing the mug to her lips as she takes a sip.

“Huh?”

“About how you like your coffee.”

“Iced americano.” You tell her, a wicked smile tugging at your lips.

She rolls her eyes. “Please, it’s like you want to butcher this!”

“Not actively attempting to, no. But if I can’t find anything remotely appropriate to wear then that might just be the case.” You say, exasperated. You’d spent the good first half of your morning rummaging around your tiny closet for anything that would resemble even an ounce of professionality. Needless to say, your pastels and florals, mostly making up an absurd amount of sun dresses, were not quite cutting it.

“Please, ___, you dress like a grandma that picks up gardening as soon as the weather goes any higher than 20 degrees. Or, even better, -” she continues but you turn around, narrowing your eyes at her. “The cutest grandma, though. Sexy, too.” She winks at you and you can’t help but smile.

“It’s just not… professional enough.”

“Since when do nannies have to look cookie cutter corporate? I’d be content enough with someone that didn’t pose any immediate threat. Like say, you walk in there with a spike collar on – that might be dangerous. But then again, you can’t really judge a book by its cover.” She concludes, assertive nod to the head before she takes another sip.

You laugh, shooting finger guns at her, giving her the point.

She’s right. Your choice of fashion was never a matter of inconvenience during Saturday book club in the library. And you do sort of sport the grandma-chic. You should be fine.

Yet you can’t shake the slight intimidation you feel. You know it’s only normal to dwell on nerves or pre work interview jitters. As much cookie cutter corporate this isn’t you still want to do well. You still want his approval.

The intimidation dates back to two days ago. Mai had called you, having asked for your number to give you further details, and she gave you the good news! As she’d exclaimed.

“His assistant will call you to arrange an interview. It’ll probably be sometime this week.” Mai’s voice still held the same enthusiasm as it did a couple of minutes prior during her call with Jungkook.

“That sounds perfect,” you say, although you have to force the words out of you. You weren’t expecting everything to unfold so quickly.

“You’ll do good. Soori will love you.”

“Thank you for this opportunity, Mai. It- the timing was just right.” You don’t feel like putting any pressure on her by admitting just how desperately you need this. This is just an interview after all.

“Trust me, likewise.” She says this and it leaves you wondering for a minute. Her voice sounds serious, but you don’t press.

You’re about to say your goodbyes but her words stop you.

“Jungkook.” She says, seemingly out of nowhere.

“Huh?” You frown, a bit lost by the prior.

“Jeon Jungkook. That’s his name. Just realized I never told you.”

Jeon Jungkook. It’s in the name. That’s where your intimidation stems from. He sounds like he belongs in the list of professors you avoided in university. The ones that led the elective subjects you took to build up credit. Like accounting and introduction to physics 01. You shudder at the thought.

Another look-over your messy clothes sprawled all across your bed earns you another shudder, followed by a loud groan.

Lucy scams through it, giving it one last glance before she grabs a handful of yellow fabric. She doesn’t gravitate towards it for any reason in particular – simply with the intention to ease your torment and put an end to this discussion.

“Here. Wear the yellow dress.” She says, sure of herself, even though she has no idea what the yellow dress actually looks like. It could be one of your grandma chic but make it ass cheek length for all she knows.

But the angels are on Lucy’s side today and when you reach for the dress, holding it against your body as you stare at the mirror, it’s not half bad. It cuts in a straight line over your chest, fabric rouching slightly at the top before it falls seamlessly right above your knees. Discreet enough. Cute bows at the strings that hold it over your shoulders, too. You are keen on the gardening look, aren’t you?

“It needs a cardigan.” You say, reaffirming your previous realization.

“How Victorian of you. Please refrain from showing any ankle – the man might have a heart attack. I heard nine months old are judgy, too.” Lucy remarks.

“I was planning on wearing my converse – is that too casual?” You ask, completely ignoring her witty remarks. She rolls her eyes at you and watches you pace around your room, trying to tidy up the mess you’d make.

You’re looking through your cardigans when she breaks the silence.

“What do you think happened?”

“What do you mean?” You ask, turning around, eyes meeting her serious ones.

“I mean, single dad… desperately in need for a nanny… rich, assuming from his side of town. Do you think something happened? Where’s the baby mama?” Your eyes widen at her last question.

“Well, I don’t know. But I’m sure it isn’t any of the crazy scenarios flashing through your mind right now. Probably a messy divorce or something.” You declare.

“Guess we’ll find out soon enough.”

~

“Soo, look here, baby. Open wide!” Jungkook’s words feign cheerfulness but they’re bordering on a plead. As he brings the spoon closer to Soori’s mouth she lets out a high-pitched shriek. By far the loudest since this whole ordeal unfolded twenty minutes ago.

Her eyes are swollen, wet with tears that fall down her face that’s now red from all the crying and screaming lunch time has provoked. The first few days she refused solid food had Jungkook giving in – cradling her in his arms as he bottle fed her until she calmed down. But it’s been three days of this and he needs to be a parent.

So that’s where his Thursday lunch break finds him – standing in front of a very angry baby, completely clueless, a colourful assortment of pureed baby food adorning his kitchen island. Soori’s cries come to a surprising stop and he knows she’s not only tired but also hungry. He tries again, lowering the spoon to her, holding in his breath as she just stares at it. She kicks, body jumping so abruptly inside the confinity of her high chair it startles Jungkook, hands coming to hold her still as he shushes her gently.

Amidst the sea of broken feelings that slowly tear him apart this is perhaps the most painful. He didn’t think Soori would be so receptive to her mother’s departure. Jungkook doesn’t know if her change of demeanour is a reaction of his sulking and suffering, or if she feels Ira’s absence more than he can give her credit for. She’s just so little. Bliss still carries her through most mornings and nights – they were Jungkook’s to begin with, as he took every chance he possibly could at home to spend with her. He likes to believe that her mother’s missing presence isn’t something she doesn’t quite grasp by notion. But he can’t deny that she feels it by instinct. His heart breaks all over again at her innocence. He wonders if she’s confused, tries to decipher her feelings as he stares at her. Her mouth opens and closes in breathy whimpers. His eyes sting with the promise of a new set of tears at the feeling.

“Mr. Jungkook?” Mrs. Chae’s dulcet voice startles him. She looks apologetic when he jumps at the sight of her. “I’m sorry to disturb you. Your assistant has just called to remind you about your interview, sir. I thought I’d let you know.”

Fuck. The interview. In the middle of lunchtime chaos, he’d managed to forget about it.

“Uh- yes. Yes. Thank you, Mrs. Chae,” he takes a glimpse at his daughter, whom he still hasn’t manage to feed. He feels like a failure.

“If you want, I can try?” she says, referring to the get the baby to actually eat ordeal he was engaged in a minute ago.

“I’d appreciate that, yes.” She’s an old lady, and although sweet, lacks the patience to deal with the babysitting duties she’d had to take on ever since Ira left. But Jungkook needs all the help he can get, so he accepts hers. “If she keeps fussing just give her a bottle. She needs to eat.” She simply nods. He feels slightly judged – he keeps breaking. Stuck between a wall and a dead-end street. A bottle or starving his nine-month-old. A really easy one, yeah.

He leans down, kissing Soori’s forehead, whispering, “be good, baby.”

He makes his way from the kitchen to the living room, his pace picking up as he walks straight to the guest bathroom before he locks it.

He doesn’t bother turning on the lights as his back leans against the door, body sliding against it until he hits the floor. He breaks. It’s not the loud sobs he let out the first couple of days – he’s pretty sure he’s ran out of those. It’s the silent tide of tears that build in the corners of his eyes as his lost gaze penetrates an empty spot. He stares so hard until his line of vision goes blurry and he blinks. And only then do the tears fall. He doesn’t know why he suppresses them anymore. He’s just so fucking tired. He doesn’t know where the pain starts nor does he know where it ends. It’s just there. Silent, cold, sharp. An all-consuming overwhelm that shares his days and nights – backstabbing him just when he thinks it’s getting better.

He starts to get angry – what he’s come to identify as step two of his emotional vortex. But before he can fully register it, the doorbell rings, saving him from himself.

~

Your fingers hover over the doorbell. The touch screen doorbell. You try not to but your mind races with, quite frankly, unproductive thoughts.

Who even needs this much technology? You direct your gaze up, taking in the sight in front of you. People that live in such humble abodes like this one, you think. The house resembles something out of those Architectural Digest magazines you skim through in the library to kill time. It reminds you of a cut out you pasted in your vision board – idea courtesy of none other than Lucy after reading one chapter from The Secret.

it’s big, that’s to put it lightly. The shape almost boxy – wide and long, walls a contrast between white and dark mahogany wood. Two palm trees adorn the entrance, one taller than the other, side by side. Palm trees? You’re gawking now, you know you are. Three cars take up the vast parking space – two that seem to be identical, only in different colours. Black and white. That’s cliché, even for you. A Range Rover comes to view at the far end, almost towering the two coupes – it’s black. You have to admit it’s a satisfying colour palette. But who needs three cars? You shake your head, catching yourself before you free-fall into the incessant prying.

You make a mental note to stop staring as you fixate your gaze back to the door. Your eyes come back to the doorbell.

Does it ever run out of battery?

You’re about to reason with your brain on why that is a stupid question when the front door swings open from the inside. You tense up slightly, running your hands down the front of your dress nervously as your eyes come up to take in the sight before you.

Now, as afore mentioned, you’re not one to shy away from a good cliché; but the one before you finds you perplexed, to say the least.

He’s tall – so much so you have to shift your gaze upwards to meet his face. And when you do, you’re met with something you can’t quite put into words. But he doesn’t need words. His beauty speaks sonnets you’ll never be able to utter with ordinary words – so ethereal you quickly come to an spoken understanding. His hair is dark and thick, falling softly on top of his forehead, parting at the middle. His eyes look red and even though they’re a bit fallen they look impossibly big – if you look long enough, they become starry. You think your own eyes are deceiving you but when he blinks slowly and opens them again, you’re met with galaxies.

He’s managed to make formal attire look effortlessly casual. You take him in – black slacks, perfectly fitted against his toned legs. His white dress shirt exposes more skin than your sanity can bear, the three top buttons undone and his sleeves rolled up. Tattoos that seem to be never ending adorn his right arm that maintains a tight grip on the door as he holds it open for you.

“Mr. Jeon?” Your voice mirrors the confusion that inhabits your head. The title feels off – this man looks like he could’ve been part of your graduating class. But who makes it this big after three months post grad?

The left side of your brain, also known as rationality, hopes this is not Jeon Jungkook, the man about to interview you. For a potential job. To babysit his daughter.

But the right side of your brain hopes it is.

“Just Jungkook is fine.”

Damn it.

“Uh- come in, please.” He says, making way in the entrance for you to step in.

It’s bright – the house illuminated by the light coming from the endless windows that take up the space, floor to ceiling, east to west. The minimal décor perfectly complemented by a perfect view of the boundless shade of green that make up the backyard; the blue of the pool reflecting against the glass.

“Here, my office’s this way. Follow me.” His voice breaks you out of your trance and you nod, following right behind him.

His strides are determined yet effortless, mimicking his essence alone. But you can’t stop thinking about his eyes – bruised with what seems like lack of sleep and red veins so prominent around his irises you wonder if it’s the prior or if he’s been crying.

Stop prying.

He comes to a stop in front of a door that he holds opens for you, letting you go in first. You smile at the action. He doesn’t return it.

“Please,” he gestures to one of the chairs and you sit down, opposite to where you assume he’ll be sitting; a wide table, that matches the overall décor of the house, separating the two of you.

He looks at the tray Mrs. Chae has left for the two of you, seeing his usual coffee order has doubled. He quirks a brow, taking one look at you, but you seem to be lost as you take in your surroundings. He grabs both glasses, placing one in front of you.

“Thank you.” You say, voice soft.

He rounds the desk and comes to sit in front of you, settling into the chair before he takes a sip from his coffee. He clears his throat and this makes you straighten up in your seat. Here we go, you tell yourself.

“Do you have any questions for me before we start?” His gaze finally meets yours, undivided for the first time since you walked inside his home.

But his question takes you aback. He looks like the type to shove you abruptly into the enquiry portion of the interview.

“Um…,” you’re already stuttering and Jungkook tries not to but he looks exasperated. “The dynamic,” you attempt to answer with secureness, “what does it look like?”

His left eyebrow quirks rapidly at your question, almost instinctively. “She’s nine months old. She naps two to three times a day. Solid food three times a day,” his voice shakes at this, “formula four times a day. Quick bath throughout the day if she gets messy, a long one before bed time. Goes through diapers like she’s keeping Pampers afloat. Enjoys anything loud with buttons during her free time.” The last two remarks are more sarcastic than they are funny. Condescending even.

“And yours?” He doesn’t miss the slight irritation in your voice, although you look impassive.

“My…?”

“Dynamic. What does it look like?”

Your question aggravates him slightly. If he were to answer it with outmost sincerity, you’d probably label him as a bad father – a weak one even. He thinks about Soori right now, probably propped up against her favorite pillow in the couch as she suckles on her bottle. The word discipline swarms his thoughts. He frowns. She’s nine months old for God’s sake.

He composes himself before replying, “I work at the office, though I’ve been working from home more often lately. Mornings and nights she spends with me. Lunch time, too, when I’m home. I tend to have seasons where work requires more travel than others, but that time hasn’t come so I’m yet to figure it out. I don’t work on weekends unless strictly necessary.” The brief but packed run down comes to an end but all you can do is remain silent in your seat; eyes still glued to his. “Is that all?”

“Yes,” your murmur.

“Your work experience is… not ideal for this sort of job. Are you aware?” Now you know why he’s loaded. He’s a fucking shark.

“I am aware.” You badly want to say something, anything, to save your ass but your mind is at a complete blank at his unashamed boldness.

“What do you really want to do?”

“Pardon?”

He exhales loudly. “What career path do you want to pursue? Did you go to school? – Mai told me you volunteer at the library – is that something you want to do long term?”

Damn, he’s ruthless.

“I’m sorry I should’ve brought a CV of some sort-”

“Yes, you should’ve. But you didn’t. So, we’re just going to have to work with what we have.” He says, interrupting you.

You look up at him, your sincere eyes meet his. They look as tired as they did when he first greeted you. You try to steady your breathing, easing your mind as you pose a brave front.

“I majored in Literature – out of sole passion. I didn’t really think about where it would land me when I started, I just did it because I loved it. I graduated three months ago and no, I don’t love it any less. Even if my degree hasn’t landed me nowhere you’d consider successful.” He visibly winces at your words. “I quit my job at a bar because the atmosphere was making me feel uncomfortable. The library felt comforting enough so I stuck to that. It makes me happy. Volunteering, I mean. Not in the selfless way you’d probably think but in a it brings me more peace of mind than it does them way, I guess. They’re kids, nothing holds their amusement for long enough. I’d hope the books and my words do, but I can’t know that for sure. I’m just a tiny slice of their week. But that’s fine by me.”

Jungkook gapes at you. He takes your words in and has to admit your sincerity takes him by surprise. You’ve uttered more words in the last two minutes than you have since you arrived. His head is pounding. He doesn’t believe you’re any more qualified just because you had a burst of honesty spill out of you. But he’d be a fool not to regard you with admiration for it.

At his silence, you continue, “I don’t know what career path I want to pursue. Or maybe I do, but it somewhat scares me. I like to write, but it’s a tough industry to break into. I’m not worried or desperate to know, though. I don’t know how long it took you to amount to all your success – you look fairly young to me. But I believe even the most successful of people felt at least a little lost at twenty-three,” you catch yourself slipping into a cliché so you mask it with a, “or whatever.”

He nods, but it doesn’t necessarily convey approval. It’s more so as if he’s digesting everything you’ve unloaded onto him. You don’t care at this point; having come to terms you didn’t stand a chance in Jeon Jungkook’s nanny boot camp to begin with.

“I agree,” he says and his words find you wide eyed. “I don’t even believe most people should decide on something they’ll take on for the rest of their lives that young. I wouldn’t necessarily say you’re lost, though. Finding your way seems to be a more fitting term.”

His words are comforting and the warm feeling pooling at the pit of your stomach travels all the way up until it settles in your chest. They feel almost welcoming, even as his gaze remains stern.

“You didn’t ask and at this point you probably don’t care but… I’m a fast learner and there are a couple of things in life that come naturally to me and I’ve been told that kids are one of them.”

He nods, giving you a tight-lipped smile before he’s pushing his chair back and coming to a stand. You follow his movements, walking alongside him in silence as you exit his office.

You don’t expect the loud shriek that echoes through the walls when you walk down the corridor, back to his living room. Concern laces his features and he walks a little faster, but when you make it to the living room and past the front door you don’t know if you should keep following him.

You do anyways.

Upon entering the kitchen you’re met with one hell of a sight. Sat in a high chair is whom you presume to be Soori. A very unhappy version of her, anyways. She’s kicking and screaming so loud you fear she might break free from her constraints, the baby harness holding her back every time. You know she’s upset when her cries are also met with tears – real tears. Not crocodile ones babies often times shed when they can’t express discomfort so they just cry. In front of her, Mrs. Chae is holding a bottle and a pink plastic bowl, eyes going from one to the other and then to Soori, in complete desperation.

“What’s wrong?” Jungkook says, coming to stand next to them.

“She- she won’t take her bottle. I tried the puree again but she doesn’t want that either. I’m sorry Mr. Jungkook.” Mrs. Chae says.

“Has she been crying this whole time?” He asks. Mrs. Chae simply nods.

The both of them keep going back and forth, with Jungkook asking how many ounces she had, if the bottle was perhaps cold. Or too hot.

You look at Soori, who’s crying hasn’t come to a cease, if anything getting louder at her dad’s arrival. You can see the grabby hands she makes at him and it tugs at your heart a little. You walk over to her. She’s probably the cutest baby you’ve ever seen – even when her chubby cheeks are flushed from all the crying and her eyes are swollen. A silky, single strand of black hair is held up by a pink bow – hair coming up in a little sprout. Adorable.

She looks just like her dad – button nose and big doe eyes. Not to mention the puffy cheeks.

Your next move is bold but you know this works. Well, you don’t know for sure but you can try. Her exasperation is getting to you too at this point. You reach for one of the bowls in the kitchen counter – a mush of what smells like peas. You plop a dollop of the puree in the table of her high chair. She looks confused at first, taking in the stranger in front of her and then the green glob that adorns the once impeccably white surface. You notice just how clean she is, as well. You’ve never seen a child this clean during lunch time.

After a couple of seconds her cries come to a stop. She looks at you one last time before she redirects her gaze to her food – hands curiously coming to smack at the mushy peas. Jungkook turns around at the sudden quietness. His eyes look like they’re about to burst out of his skull when he sees his daughter stare at her messy fist, hand covered in baby food. She observes it tentatively before bringing it to her mouth, her whole hand coming past her lips as she nibbles on its content. She looks nonchalant to say the least but when her hand repeats the movement, shoving another handful into her mouth, he feels like he could cry of relief.

“How-” he starts, flabbergasted.

“Um… she’s not going to feel fully comfortable with the sight and texture of the food if she doesn’t get a chance to explore it with her hands first.” You answer.

Soori hums in sweet satisfaction as she feeds herself. Jungkook turns to her, big toothy smile at his baby’s new found sound. It’s the first time you’ve seen his face take on that expression.

“Is it good, baby?” he coos and she smiles back at him, nose scrunching up imitating her father’s, mushy peas up to her hairline.

You smile. God, they’re cute.

But you know this is your queue. You adjust your bag strap over your shoulder, clearing your throat as you prepare to say goodbye and turn around. You can see yourself out.

“Thank you for-”

His next words nearly give you whiplash and it takes you a while to process them.

“When can you start?”

~

“And then what did you say?” Lucy listens to your detailed recollection of the recent events. She nods and winces and shakes her head at the brutal recount.

“Well, I was about to say goodbye. Yes, that chubby cheeked baby was calling my name but I couldn’t get out of there faster. But then,” you pause, remembering the exact moment, a little too vividly as his voice echoes in your memory.

“What! What?” Lucy’s eyes are attentive, never once leaving your face. But her hands follow another agenda, filling a shot glass to the brim, the clear liquid spilling a bit as she waits for your bomb to kaboom! In her face. This one’s looking exceptionally ghastly. She figures tequila could ease the impact.

“He asked me when I could start.” You finish.

“Wait, what? Come again?” She all but slams the bottle as she sets it back down on the kitchen counter.

“Yeah. I think it even took him by surprise. He went on to tell me that we could take a week of testing the waters before I signed the contract.” You tell her.

“The contract? Who are you babysitting? The next heir to the British throne?”

You laugh at this, “no. She’s cuter than any of those royal babies.” She smiles, downing the shot of tequila that she’d originally destined for you. You don’t need it. Neither does she but, oh well.

“And, Lucy… his assistant emailed me the contract, just in case I had something I wanted to negotiate,” you say, voice coming to a whisper.

“And?” She asks, confused.

“Think sleazy bar pay check,” she winces, “now double that.”

“Oh.”

“Now add one of those good months that I would get my work published and we could buy the fancy marmalade,” she nods in excitement, “now double that.”

“We’re RICH!” She screams, hands coming to hold yours as you both jump up and down to the beat of her movements.

“There’s only one problem,” you say, stilling.

“What?”

“His face…”

“What about it?”

“Picture an angel,” your gaze softens, she rolls her eyes.

“Yeah…”

“Picture the perfection,”

“I am, I am.” Lucy returns, eyes dreamy.

“Now double that.”

~

Jungkook enters his bathroom, mind busy with the weight of the day. Bed time went smoothly but he knows Soori will be up in two hours or so. He mentally prepares himself for another night of rocky sleep.

He reaches for his toothbrush, lathering a generous amount of toothpaste on top before letting the water run over it. He hates mundane tasks like these – his mind having to come to a halt, to fixate on the domestic. He thinks about Ira. He can’t help it. He pictures the routine they’d adapted for the past three years – imagines what she looked like brushing her teeth next to him. They’d stand next to each other in comfortable silence, aggressive silence and on really good days, mumbles between mouthfuls of toothpaste, talking about their days, his arm around her waist as he pinned her to the marble counter.

He can’t help but wonder where she is. If she’s well. If she cries at night when she turns off the lights the way he’s grown accustomed to since she left. He wonders if she misses Soori – her baby smell, the squish of her cheeks, the round of her eyes taking her in. She thinks about the fact she missed one of her milestones today – that satisfied hum when she enjoyed her mushy peas.

He wonders if she misses him, too.

He remembers the mess Soori had made during lunch, having to wash baby food off her hair afterwards. Ira would’ve rolled her eyes at the sight. She never liked it when she made a mess.

He wonders what she would think of you, of his decision to have you look after their baby.

He stops his train of thought.

His baby.

The realization exhausts him further and he heads to bed. He wonders when it’ll get easier. When it will stop hitting him in the face every time he lets his mind wonder in meaningless back and forth. He knows the answer to all of his previous questions – none of them are what he wants to hear.

He tugs his hoodie off with one hand, throwing it to the side before he gets under his covers. He sighs, a groan leaving his mouth at the feeling of the pillow against his head. His eyes close instinctively.

And then he thinks about you.

He’s spent a good portion of his day thinking about you, to be fair. The wellbeing of his daughter at the frontline of his thoughts, whether he made the right decision. He’d made up his mind pretty early into the interview and all it took was a happy baby enjoying mushy peas for him to break. He’s regretted his decision at least a dozen times today. But then during dinner time he mimicked your actions, an assortment of foods cut into small bites spread in front of Soori for her to explore. She was eating so fast he had to stop her twice and he got to hear her sweet little mmm a handful of times. That was enough for him to break again.

But as he nuzzles into his pillows his thoughts are not laced with parenting. He thinks about you. He doesn’t exactly follow the direction of his train of thought but he’s too tired to stop it.

He thinks of the words you so openly shared with him. He thinks of the way vulnerability took over your face in a way he’d never seen it shown so visibly in anyone before. He thinks about your yellow dress that all but startled him when he opened his front door, so bright you almost looked out of place. He tries to remember what you smelled like. He can’t put his finger on it. In fact, he doesn’t think he even focused on it long enough to remember. Honey, camelias, lavender, roses, wood- he stops himself. It’s a thought with a dead-end street. He finds no point in dwelling.

You were wearing high top converses.

Something about that makes way to his brain and he can’t quite explain it. Perhaps it’s an innocence he doesn’t interact with anymore. He thinks about twenty-three-year-old him – just as lost as you. He smiles but it’s unconscious as he slowly begins to succumb to a much-needed sleep. He thinks you look like a feeling buried down deep in his memory. He’s too tired to put a name to it but as his brain begins to shut down, his vulnerability comes afloat, cradling him. The feeling doesn’t have a name but it comes in a memory he’s not so sure it entirely belonged to him. Perhaps it’s a deep longing he stored inside his heart many years ago.

Salt water. The smell of Taehyung’s parents beach house. Sixteen. Slow days. A fight between innocence and desire. Infatuation masked by love. Promises of forever. Names that danced with his. Lemonade. His first sip of beer. Mrs. Kim’s lemon pie. An old beat-up jeep. Wind. Sand. Days so long they never truly eased into night. Sunrise escapades. The stars in the sky. And yellow. So much yellow.

~

If u made it this far can we talk about cute, soft, in-between-awake-and-asleep jk being all dreamy and reminiscing!!!! that was so hot of him. i truly hope you enjoyed – this story has been so fun to write so far and my mind is already working like rents due to whip out chapter three as fast as i can!! i, too, can’t wait for the sexy stuff, don’t worry. jk needs healing but its on its way!! hold on tight. also i will make it my purpose to get my girl lucy a match made in heaven for this fic bc she deserves the world. Thank u for reading and feel free to let me know what you thought of the chapter – i love talking to u guys. sending loads of love always!! xxxxx

STREAM PERMISSION TO DANCE IF U WANT DADDY JUNGKOOK TO FEEL BETTER OK he told me to tell u xx

In Two Parts - jjk

Synopsis: Everyone warned you he was a heartbreaker, hell, he even warned you himself. But if warnings really worked, then there would be no consequences. 

Genre: It’s just angst sorry guys >:cc

Pairing: fuckboy!jungkook X  reader

Word count: 1K

Warnings: Theres like allusion to sex but it’s superrrr vague.

Note: This is going to be part of a set of drabbles from the poet Lang Leav, she’s amazing you should check out her book Love and Misadventure it’s great omg. Anyway, enjoy!! If this does well I might turn it into a story idk yet hehehe. 

“You come and go so easily, Your life is as you knew- While mine is split in two. How I envy so the half of me, Who lived before love’s due,   Who was yet to know of you.” - Lang Leav 

Everyone warned you, they had been vivid with their descriptions of how he broke hearts, how he charmed people into his bed and never let them into his heart. You were foolish, easily swayed because all you had experienced from life was the good, the pure, the innocent. He was from a different side of the world you thought you knew, like yin and yang, good and evil, you had been polar opposites - at least seemingly so. You had that same assumption, the assumption that you could change him if only you had the chance to show him love. You were one of many and in reality, there was nothing special about you. Nothing that could really sway his cemented way of life, his promise to never love for as long as he lived.

Keep reading

happy birthday jungkookie ♥♥♥ (970901)

You're welcome. The fic was amazing and I loved it too much. Thank you for writing beautiful stories <3

Favourite Jungkook Fic 🐰

I have included One Shots and Drabbles here. Series and Two Shots are in another list.

None of the fics in the list is mine. These belong to some amazing, creative and wonderful writers. Go check them out and read their other fics. Also like, reblog and /or comment there 😊

~~••~~••~~

One Shots || Drabbles

✩ Granite Glow @namjoonchronicles | Angst, Fluff ( Husband Jungkook au)

✩ Twenty Four @deerguk Fluff and Fluff (Husband au. It's really so cute 😍)

✩ The Second @untaemedqueen Angst, Fluff (Jungkook parents au)

✩ Stay @sahmfanficbts | Angst, Fluff (Hurt/comfort fic. This one is really good and healing. OC has depression but she is hopeful)

✩ Somnolent @forgottenpasta Fluff (Roommate au. Cute and funny characters)

✩ Busted In Busan @hansolmates | Fluff, Angst (Christmas au. Painter Jungkook)

✩ Year 22 @guklvr | Angst, Fluff, Smut (Childhood friend au)

✩ @jeonstudios

Deal | Angst, Fluff, Smut (Devil Jungkook au. There is a little twist)

Wherever There is You | Angst, Fluff (Hurt/Comfort fic. Broken marriage/divorce au)

✩ The Millionaire and his Lover @gukyi Angst, Fluff, slight smut (Best friend au)

✩ Let Me Drive @wtf-yoongi | Fluffy fluff ( A very cute and fluffy fic. Shy Jungkook. Jungkook and OC went on a little vacation)

✩ Amortentia @jungkxook | Fluff, Slight Angst (Harry Potter au)

✩ In Your Time @introkookie | Angst, Fluff (Shy Jungkook but very cute)

✩ Boy Meets Evil @koorara | Fluff and Fluff ( So fluffy. OC, Jungkook and a cat 🐱)

✩ @jimlingss

Date in A Box | Fluff and fluff (Just full of fluff like a cotton candy)

Dynasty | Angst, Smut, Fluff ( Historical, royalty au. This one sooo good. You will basically watch a movie while reading this. I love it so much ❤️)

✩ Sweets @worldwidemochiguy | Fluff (Soft Yandare Jungkook)

✩ So Close to Perfect @seok-jinnies | Angst ( At first hurt but you will get the comfort eventually)

✩ Late Supper @secretmischief | Angst, Fluff, Smut ( Idol Jungkook au. OC is hurting at first but fluffy ending)

✩ Crush @jungxk | Angst, Fluff, Smut ( Idol Jungkook au. Jungkook lost his memory)

☆ @venusjeon

His Service | Angst, Smut ( Historical, royal au. This one is really angsty. I cried 😭)

l'aquelarre | Angst, Fluff, Slight Smut (Fantasy, Magic au. Witch Jungkook)

From The Depths | Angst, Fluff (Historical, fantasy au. Siren Jungkook)

✩ War-time Child @ktheist | Angst, Fluff (Fantasy, magic au. Slight Harry Potter au. Jungkook is the one with magic)

✩ Webslinger @lemon-boy-stan | Angst, Fluff (Jungkook Spiderman au)

✩ Tangled Thoughts @mimikookie | Angst, Fluff, Slight violence (Jungkook Spiderman au)

✩ Feed Me Fight Me @yeojaa | Angst, slight smut ( Jungkook fighter au. OC is very understanding. Hurt/Comfort fic)

✩ Are you going to stay @hollyhomburg | Angst, Fluff, slight Smut (Jungkook Idol au)

✩ Second Chances @parkhabits | Angst, Fluff, Smut (Jungkook husband au. Almost divorce au)

boy meets evil | jjk

boyfriend!jk x girlfriend!reader ft Demok (your cat)

a/n: the link was broken so i'm just reposting it.

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Jungkook knows he’s in deep shit.

The loud buzzing from the hairdryer will surely wake you up. You have been working, standing on your feet for hours long and Jungkook knows that, he fucking knows that! Which is why he is so scared right now.

You are his sweetheart, always so bubbly and is so patient. Especially with him. As far as he is aware you never make any face or scold him for shouting when he is playing games with Taehyung. Or when he woke up at the goddamn hour of the night because he craved your cookies. He accidentally knocked over the glass cup, shattering it on the floor, you just hum comfortingly at him, rubbing his back up and down with eyes closed before bringing the broom to help him.

Jungkook tends to feel bad easily, he thinks you come up to him first before helping clean up his mess. He loves you so much for putting up with him.

You always said, “I can never get mad at you, baby. Except if you messed up with my other baby, Demok.” you don’t play when you say this, with that glint in your eyes. Demok is your cat. If Jungkook is your baby, Demok is the firstborn. He is pretty old for his cat age and he has been with you for so long. Jungkook wasn’t even in the picture yet.

You were living with Demok as long as you can remember. Demok is a ragamuffin cat, heavy fur on his chest, plump legs, the cutest thing ever only if he doesn’t hate Jungkook so much. He is super grumpy (well to Jungkook) and very possessive! Jungkook remembers fucking you into your mattress for the fisrt time and Demok almost bend his dick in half because that cat showed up out of nowhere and started hissing at him. Jungkook still shudders at that memory.

If he got home earlier than you, there’s awkward air in the house as Demok stares at him like he is a felony. Jungkook tried cooing, or clicking and making whatever sounds that are supposed to attract the cat. He even pleads to Demok, begging him to eat before you’re home. Jungkook finds himself groaning all the time and he whines about Demok hating him to you. You always shrug and say “he’s always like that,” or, “he’s a grandpa, it’s normal.”

Lies! Demok is the most docile and and a furry purring machine every damn time he’s on your lap. Whenever you're home after your shift at the hospital, Demok will instantly jump at the door and start making those cute noises and just circling your legs. Making you giggle beautifully (at least your voice soothes him) while Jungkook is clenching his spoon as he stress eating peanut butter straight out of the jar.

Did anyone remember that Demok the fluffiest cat, with his brown greyish chest. His fur is so thick. Definitely because of his breed and sometimes Jungkook catches him grooming himself, licking at his fur and it takes forever to dry. Jungkook always found it hilarious as Demok struts down the hallway with wet patches on his body. The thick fur! The reason why Jungkook is screaming internally right now.

“Stay still Demok, please!” He whispers yelling at the cat. Jungkook is anxiously rubbing Demok with the towel he grabbed out of nowhere because he was shocked while his other hand is holding the hairdryer. To sums up, the whole scene is ridiculous. Jungkook in his black boxer, with his hair all over the place, if you have a bird, the bird would think his hair as their nest.

His eyes are a little puffy but wide in shock because it’s three in the morning, he is still holding his pee, because he is currently fussing over a very wet Demok! Yeah! Jungkook didn’t know Demok is sleeping in the sink, so imagine his surprise when he walked into the bathroom, about to wash his hands before he pee -because he always done it like that- his eyes closed and the he didn’t even bother to switch on the light for the bathroom he knows like the back of his hand.

So he turns on the faucet only for it to splash on Demok's chunky body, the cat can’t even flinched because he was asleep!

“I’m sorry, dude. Just sush,” Jungkook is trying his best to grab a hold of the cat. He doesn’t want Demok and his wet body waking up to you. Oh but Jungkook knows how Demok will make him pay for it. Immediately he kicks the bathroom door close after he turns on the light, scrambling to calm Demok as Jungkook can hear his low rumbled meow, indicating that he is annoyed. His hand grabbing the nearest towel and his other hand plugging the hair drier. The clatter sounds of your skincare falls all over the counter. Making he winced, praying you’re not awake.

Too late,

“What happened, Kook,” your voice makes him widen his already big eyes. Oh no, he thought. You knocked on the bathroom door softly. Seeing the frantic moving shadow on the bottom of the door. “Kook? You okay,” you sound more alert now. Jungkook on the other side of the door is begging Demok to not make a sound. Yea, like Demok will listen to him, or be affected by the puppy frowning look on Jungkook’s face so he meow. It was a short meow but Jungkook swears he can see Demok smirks. Maybe his brain is still foggy from the sleep but Demok is a coy beast.

“Demok?” You asked. Now your hand is on the door handle. It's not locked. Pushing it open, you take a look at the whole mess. Wet Demok in the sink, Jungkook and the hairdryer. You burst out laughing.

"Boys, what the fuck?” Wiping the tear on the corner of your eyes, hunched over because Jungkook looks like he had committed the biggest crime while Demok is holding his head high but his wet neck makes him look silly.

“I’m sorry, baby,” Jungkook pouted. Unlike Demok, you will forever be affected by his pout. “I didn't know Demok was sleeping in the sink,” he adds. Still looking guilty.

“Aww, it’s okay. He’s fine. Let’s dry him up,” you chuckles.

Jungkook squeals, oh he lets out a pitched squeal at your reaction. He was pretty sure he’d be sleeping on the couch a few minutes ago. But now here you are rubbing the towel softly on Demok’s fluffy chest. You truly are his sweetheart.

That next day, Jungkook got home earlier as usual and he was carrying groceries. Somewhere Demok might be napping and Jungkook didn’t look for him yet before his meal time. He rushed back to the car because he cannot make it on one trip today because he bought shoe racks. So he went to get it, but Jungkook didn’t know, the little furry beast was hiding in the shadows as Jungkook zoomed out the door.

That furry beast strutted his best catwalk on the kitchen counter.

Let’s just say, a few seconds later, Jungkook comes back to a spilled milk on the floor, some boxes of flour or cereal or whatever are already torn and his celery and broccoli are scattered on the counter.

The culprit? He’s licking his paw like a good boy he is.