𝐀 𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥'𝐬 𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥

✿𝑷𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: Jungkook x Reader

✿ 𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: The one where you hate your boyfriend's best friend. Lucky for you, your boyfriend's other best friend's girlfriend hates her too.

Hoseok's girlfriend will not let you be disrespected.

✿ 𝑻𝒂𝒈𝒔: Angst, Short.

✿ 𝐀/𝐍: this is Aera, btw. We all need one in our lives.

Anyway, very short and silly one shot. Maybe one day I'll write YN or JK's POV.

°•. ✿ .•°

(Fanfic masterlist)

(support me on my ko-fi <3)

°•. ✿ .•°

Aera had, as a personal rule, the habit of not meddling in other people’s businesses. Her own were already too much of a burden and she was not put on this earth to overwork herself with someone else’s problems. They could it either solve it on their own or fuck off, as far as Aera was concerned.

But everything had a limit and you, with your kind ways and pretty smiles that had sneaked your way into Aera’s very tight circle of friends, were just too nice for her to just watch you suffer. After all, she was a girl’s girl through and through.

Except when it came to Eunjae. That bitch could choke and no amount of girlhood talk would change Aera’s mind.

It all exploded on a cold Friday when the whole gang got together to meet at a bar, squeezing into a booth. There was Aera, her boyfriend Hoseok, his friends Jin and Yoongi on one side, sharing a plate of fries. On the other side, Namjoon, you, your boyfriend Jungkook and Aera’s number one public enemy, Eunjae.

Eunjae had been a childhood friend to the boys, knowing them for many years as they held on to her like a security blanket. And that would of course not bother Aera at all, if Eunjae had any sort of common sense or boundaries. She seemed to think there would never be another girl in the group and she would forever remain their collective girlfriend, leaving no room for anyone else.

But Aera, fearsome and outspoken, had cut that evil from the root at the very beginning, making clear to Hoseok that she would not allow herself to be antagonized. Either he spoke up or she would walk out. Not buts.

Unfortunately, you were not as assertive as her. And even worse, Jungkook seemed to be Aera’s favorite target.

You and Jungkook had been dating for quite a few months and it was clear to anyone with eyes that you did really like each other: you looked at him as if he hung the stars in the skies and he brought you up in any possible conversation.

And so, of course, Eunjae hated you. But men were way too simplistic to pick up on her veiled and nuanced aggression, so even though Aera could see clear as day how much Eunjae bothered you, Jungkook never seemed to notice a thing.

It was all in the way Eunjae seemed to drape over him anytime he showed up, throwing herself in a way that made him drop your hand in order not to lose balance. It was how she never allowed you to call him Kookie, as that was “my nickname for you, is it not, Kookie? That’s our thing!”. And, as if that wasn’t enough to trigger even the chilliest of girlfriends, it was the way that every time you had a date schedule, Eunjae suddenly had an emergency that only Jungkook could solve.

And he would go, leaving behind a teary eyed you and an awkward shuffling Aera that did not know how to console you without telling you that you should dump Jungkook’s ass and punch Eunjae on the tits.

So Aera said nothing. And she would stay like that, if that night Eunjae hadn’t pushed her luck a bit too far.

“Oh my God, Kookie!” she exclaimed in the over strident voice she always seemed to have, making your eyes roll in annoyance at the nickname “You’re never gonna guess what I just got!”

Aera exchanged a sympathetic look with you over the table.

“What?”

“Tickets to tomorrow’s baseball game! For all of us! Isn’t that cool?”

The boys whooped in celebration, crowding around Eunjae to check the tickets she had on her hand. But Aera was the one that saw you freeze and look at your boyfriend with the saddest eyes in the world.

He, of course, was too busy staring at the stupid piece of paper. But Aera could see the satisfaction in Eunjae’s eyes, and so she asked “How many tickets did you get?”

“Only six, sorry!”

Aera huffed “Yeah, what a bummer.”

But you were still focused on your boyfriend. “Baby” you called pitifully “but we had plans tomorrow.”

“I’m sure you guys can reschedule, right, Kookie?” Eunjae said and Aera never before in her life wanted to twist someone’s neck so hard.

Ok, there was that time that dude cut the line at Five Guys and she was really hungry. But this was a close second.

“Yeah, baby.” Your dumb boyfriend agreed and if heartbreak was audible the room would’ve exploded in sound at that moment if your expression was anything to go by “You can hang with Aera tomorrow.”

“Oh, okay” you agreed, eyes teary as you hid under a curtain of hair. “Actually, it’s getting late. I think I’m gonna go. I’ll see you all later” and before anyone could say anything, you picked up your purse and left.

And now Aera was furious, as no one seemed to notice nor know why you were so upset and you were way too nice of a girl to be disrespected like that and still manage to not make a scene. “What a saint” she mumbled.

Eunjae scoffed. And that was Aera’s breaking point.

“Yup, okay, I’m done” she raised her hands and stood up from the booth.

“Baby?” Hoseok called, surprised by her sudden anger.

(He shouldn’t be. Aera was always at least 5% pissed off, like the Hulk.)

“I really tried not to say anything out of respect for your truly dysfunctional friendship, but I had enough. You” she pointed at her boyfriend “if you pull half of this shit on me, just know I’m dumping your sorry ass and putting a curse on you. Like, your penis will actually fall off. You” she turned to Eunjae, who seemed only mildly bothered at her explosion and that pissed Aera even more “are the evilest bitch on earth to pull this stunt on a girl as cool as Y/N and I hope you know you’re lucky she’s so nice, cause if that was me you would’ve been bald in a ditch right now. And finally you” she at least turned to Jungkook, who seemed stupidly shocked at her outburst “that girl will dump you anytime now and although I truly love you like a brother, she deserves better than what you give her. Oof, that feels great to get out of my chest.”

The table was silent for a while before Eunjae screeched “Are you just going to let her talk to me like that?!”.

Hm, yes they were. No one wanted to lose their penis and Aera was fucking scary.

“W-what do you mean Y/N is going to break up with me?” Jungkookie asked, looking truly upset at the news.

“C'mon dude. You’re lucky you’re handsome cause clearly your head is just a hat rack if you can’t figure that out.” Aera looked around the circle of flabbergasted men “Really? No one? Ok, let me explain in a way y’all dumb dumbs can understand: Jungkook, how many times in the last few weeks did you and Y/N hang out just the two of you? Like a date?”

“Two times, maybe?”

“And how many times did you hang out with the wicked witch of the west right here?”

Jungkook winced and did not answer.

“It’s not his fault that I’m more fun to hang with!” Eunjae exclaimed.

“Ay, don’t say that” Jungkook tried to defend you but by then it was too late.

“And how many times were you hanging out with Y/N and this soon to be bald bitch called you and asked to see you?”

No answer.

“And did you go?”

Silence. Guilty silence.

“Yup. That’s what I thought. And finally, do you know what day tomorrow is?”

Jungkook frowned “Tomorrow? We had a date planned, I guess.”

“You guess, huh?” Aera let out a strangled laugh that made Namjoon slide under the table a bit “Tomorrow was your girlfriend’s birthday, dumbass. And you know how I know that? Cause I heard Eunjae ask her in the girl’s bathroom about her plans before she suddenly appeared with these magical tickets. So!” Aera clapped as Jungkook’s mouth opened in horror and other boys cast disappointed looks at Eunjae “I hope you all enjoy the game and I do hope the ball hits you bitch straight on the head and you get amnesia and forget what a terrible person you are. And finally I do hope Y/N finds herself some back bone and breaks up with you tomorrow because what a birthday gift would it be to be free of this clusterfuck. Anyway, good luck to you all.”

And with that, Aera left, going after you cause she would be damned if she left you alone. After all, she was a girl’s girl.

Tags

reblog jungkook angst jungkook drabble jungkook fic

𝐆𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐤 𝐆𝐨𝐝 🔞

Personal trainer!Jungkook x Baker!Reader

.｡.:✽ You're everything he's not. You're irritating. You're weird. You're confusing- and you're also everything he wants to be.

.｡.:✽Genre: slice of life, Romance, heavy Angst, Fluff, Adult, comfort

.｡.:✽Other Tags: body-insecurities/body hatred (Jungkook), mentions of past abusive relationship (verbal/emotional), reader is a cinnamon roll (get it?), overcoming past trauma, strangers to lovers, cuteness overload, suggestive themes such as sensual touching, kissing, body worship, oral (Female receiving)

.｡.:✽Wordcount: Long, 7.1k

.｡.:✽Story type: Oneshot

.｡.:✽Masterlist: Click

..............................................｡.:✽:.｡.............................................

Jungkook liked sweet things, some time ago.

He'd enjoyed ice creams with mild flavors such as vanilla, or other sweet desserts that were similar to it. He snacked often and always got a little excited when experiencing a new flavor for the first time, adventurous and never judgmental when trying out things he's never eaten before.

Jungkook also loved junk foods, like ramyeon or fast foods. He couldn't help but give in from time to time, the convenience of it all being a quick meal convincing enough to walk through the food markets back in his hometown, just to get back home with a plastic bag full of treats.

But that was before he'd met her.

He's always been quite quick to fall in love, not only with people. With a soul as trusting and eager for affection as his own, he's always been someone to love others with a fiery temper and a full heart. But that also made him an easy victim, a target almost painted on his chest it seems; because he also was once someone who trusted easily, and never saw the bad in someone.

Now? He wishes he could go back in time and warn his naïve self of what's to come.

He's punching the black bag over and over again, arms already aching- but that's just a sign that he's pushing his limits again. He knows his body inside and out, takes great care of it- or at least that's what he likes to believe. Never again will someone be able to make him feel shame about himself, never again will he feel like he did years ago.

He knows his worth.

But on his way home, he smells it again; the scent of melting sugar and baked goods, faint but familiar by now ever since the bakery had opened up a few months prior. Whatever is sold there must be good, because he can see the people lining up at the front door every morning before it opens up- and even after the morning rush, the tables inside and outside seem always filled. He wonders what's it all about- maybe just a glance this time.

He won't buy anything, he's just looking.

Someone's humming to a newly released pop-song quietly playing from the radio, inside of the shop warm lit and inviting. It looks almost more like a home than a café- but it's empty now, a much different look than what's going on during the day. "Oh?" your voice finds his ears, and he needs to take two glances left and right to find where you are, broom in hand and standing behind the counter. There's a bit of flour on your apron, and what looks like sprinkles, the frilly blouse you're wearing underneath void of any stains however. Your face shape is absolutely not as sharp and angled as what he's usually surrounded by- be it men or women- and you're visibly not as tall as the average female from what he can see.

Cute, he thinks to himself. What?

No, you're absolutely not cute. You're probably not even aware of all the calories you're selling to costumers daily- and it must be pure irony that you've opened your shop in close proximity to a gym of all places. You probably never went to one in your life, absolutely careless about your weight or health-

A lightbulb starts to flicker aggressively above his head. You laugh sheepishly.

"My boss said he'd get that fixed tomorrow. It's been like that for a few days now." you tell him for no reason. He didn't ask. "it's a little creepy to me, you know, considering I'm working alone when closing. But I can't change it myself, you know." you explain further, putting the broom to the side. Again, he doesn't know why you're telling him this. He doesn't care.

"you're closed?" he asks after a moment of staring at you awkwardly, and you shrug, making him confused.

"depends. I have some iced coffee left?" you say, opening a small fridge behind the counter. Only now does he realize that the shelves are void of any goods.

"don't wanna cause you a hassle. It's fine." he waves off at that, and you nod, smiling. He just nods back dumbly, walking out the door.

"Oh- please be careful! Goodnight!" you call out, and he turns around, hands in his jogging pants' pockets. His brows are raised, irritated.

"I'm a guy." he tells you, and you nod.

"So?" you wonder, and he scoffs a little.

"whatever." he simply mumbles to himself, before closing the door behind him.

……………………………………….｡.:✽:.｡………………………………………

Yoongi breathes heavily as he sits down on the carpeted gym floor, close to where his friend and personal trainer stands. "How's the shoulder?" Jungkook asks, mild worry in his words as he sits down close to him as well, crossing his legs.

"Better- but I think I should call it a day." He says, pushing a hand against the front of his shoulder before moving it in a circular motion. "Don't wanna overdo it." Jungkook nods at that, before another voice chimes in.

"I hope you're not overworking yourself already, Yoongi." You say, walking up to both of the men, and Jungkook himself can't help how his face shows his judgement of you. You don't fit into the scene at all, with your overknee socks and frilly skirt. You're wearing a blouse with cat-shaped buttons, entire attire showing that you visibly don't seem to care about your shape, seams of your socks already rolling down on one side from the fact that they sit so snug against your thighs, right where he can spot faint stretch marks lingering. Aren't you even the slightest bit ashamed?

Yoongi pats your head once, laughing at your words simply, before he looks into the white plastic bag you've brought. You're squatting now, Mary-janes making a slight sound as the leather bends to accommodate the way your feet are bending a little, and he tears his gaze away as soon as he notices that he can see almost under your skirt. You really have no shame, it seems. "What's that?" His older friend asks, rummaging around in the bag, while you just smile with excitement, your cheeks all round and a little blushed.

Would they look like that if you were to loose a bit of weight too? He hates how bloated he looks after eating, has kept his body-fat percentage low to make sure his face stays sharp and masculine- always remembering how much she praised his appearance if he did that. It's what's desirable, after all- so he can understand where she came from, back then.

Would she love him again if she saw him now?

"They're filled with a peach filling- but I played around a little so it's not too sweet, since I know you don't like that too much. And, you know, nowadays people are pretty scared to eat something sugary it seems." You joke, making Yoongi shrug while Jungkook feels irritated.

"Some people care about their diets." He speaks without holding back, and Yoongi looks at him a bit scandalized- but he doesn't get to scold him, because you're already talking.

"One single cream puff isn't going to ruin your body if it's once in a while." Jungkook hates how confidently you say that. And how he knows you're right, too. But he doesn't back down either, feeling threatened now.

"You don't look like one to know much about nutrition." He mumbles more or less, and Yoongi looks even more angry now- but you don't seem fazed at all, still smiling.

"Do you eat after working out?" You wonder, and he feels self-conscious now at that question. Oddly put on the spot. He doesn't like it- doesn't like you. You're not pushy, not at all, just asking, but he feels like you're interrogating him in a way he's uncomfortable with.

"No." He mumbles more or less to himself. "I have a tendency to, you know.. binge." He doesn't know why he's admitting that. You just asked a simple yes or no question, why does he feel the need to justify himself?

You're digging around in the plastic bag at that, before offering a small plastic container. "Here-" You say, friendly smile way too sugary for his tastes, like honey staining his teeth. "It's just fruit, nothing added to it. I brought them with me because I like to snack them during work, but you should definitely eat those instead." You tell him, and he looks at you with a questioning gaze.

"What will you eat during work then?" He wonders, and you shrug, an impish glint in your eyes.

"I'll hardly starve from one day without snacks. It's important to eat within the first two hours after working out- and we both know I didn't touch any of these weights here." You say giggling, and his heart stings a bit. While yes, he thinks the same, it's still tough to hear you say this so easily. He doesn't want you to think like that about yourself. He doesn't want you to feel like you need to adjust. "Alright- are you still coming Yoongs?" You wonder, and Yoongi nods, getting up and helping you stand as well. Your hand looks small in Yoongis large palms. Jungkook notices your little struggle. He himself can get up without any help.

"Yeah. We're eating at Jin's, you wanna tag along?" Yoongi asks the younger man, who instantly shakes his head.

"I need to put everything back into place again. Thanks." He simply offers, turning away from you both.

"Alright- maybe another time." You say, and he can only imagine the pitiful look you probably have put on for him. "I really wanna try his new dessert- he said he put some extra aside for me!" You giggle, voice becoming more quiet as you walk away. "Do you think I can watch him cook this time?"

"You know what Jin's like, but maybe-" Yoongi's voice becomes undistinguishable the further he walks off, and Jungkook dares to look around, seeing you smile effortless up to the older man, a little jump in your step, while the usually rather stoic producer looks at ease and genuinely friendly towards you. You both look so comfortable, so warm, and Jungkook suddenly feels like a kid left behind to stay at home alone for the first time- his inner thoughts not his own it seems as he watches you both leave the gym.

I want to come with you, too.

……………………………………….｡.:✽:.｡………………………………………

Sex isn't really anything special anymore.

He tends to be the first leaving, just like now- having barely undressed anyways, but he knows how to work around being naked while satisfying someone else. They don't care about him anyways, simply out for pleasure and no strings attached, and he's fine with that too. It makes him feel something at least, even if it's barely anything. It tastes of nothing but stale bread, feeding his desires while his soul leaves starved yet again.

The door closes behind him, and he can hear the lock set in.

Walking home, he passes your bakery- or rather a side-project of Jin's he'd been told by Yoongi last time he'd trained with him. It's closed now, but he still walks towards it, looking at the dark interior inside, barely visibly and only lit from the streetlights outside. Some red dots are blinking, indicating the security system is active inside- though Jungkook doesn't know what one might want to steal from a bakery of all places. The chairs are all upside-down on the tables, neatly placed, floor clean of any crumbs. Tomorrow, the people will wait at the entrance again, standing in line to get their breakfasts and coffees, and you'll probably stand behind the counter again with all those stains on your apron like he's seen you before.

He really doesn't know how to feel about you.

It's clear to him that your body makes him feel uncomfortable- because you're lacking any sense of consciousness about the way you look, but at the same time that can't be true considering you otherwise looked very well put together. Yoongi likes you- so why doesn't he himself feel the same?

Maybe because he's jealous.

He likes to tell himself that you're standing home alone as well, in front of the mirror and judging all those unflattering parts like he does way too often. Maybe you're just good at masking your feelings- your work having stained your very touch to the point that everything you do is just so tooth-rottingly sweet. You probably can't help it. He understands that.

Jungkook liked sweet things too, some time ago.

He walks away from the shop and back home, where nothing but the buzzing lights wait. And a cold bed, because he left the window open.

Maybe in his dreams he could fly outside?

……………………………………….｡.:✽:.｡………………………………………

"Oh, Jungkook, isn't it?" You ask, almost bumping into him in the furniture store.

"Yeah." He simply answers, a hand on your back pulling you a bit out of the way when he notices an elderly woman trying to push her shopping cart past you. Your back is warm. You're also way shorter than him. It's odd how he only notices now, it seems.

"Oh, thanks!" You say. "Uh- do you know where that spot is to get furniture you've ordered?" You ask, and he furrows his brows.

"I don't- what do you mean?" He asks, and you look up at him, clearly not uncomfortable standing close to him, because there's barely a step of space between you two. Or at least it feels like it to him. In reality, you're probably standing two steps away. At least. He puts his hands in the front pockets of his sweater- just to pull them out again. The pocket looks award when something's in it. He doesn't want to look odd.

"I ordered a small dresser a week ago, but they didn't have it here yet- so they ordered it and I could take it home later." You explain, and Jungkook nods at that, now realizing what you're talking about.

"That's up front- do you have a cart?" He wonders, and your eyes widen.

"Oh shit." You almost whisper, and a snort escapes him.

Oh god that's weird. He coughs to cover the sound up, but you're already laughing at him. He knew it. He can feel the tips of his ears turn red already-

"I'm so stupid I swear." You laugh- but it's at yourself, he realizes. "Ah, I'll get a cart then, and hunt down some employee so they can lead me there. It's no wonder they made those SCP-Horror stories about Ikeas stores." You giggle, and Jungkook can't suppress his smile this time. He can't force his lips down.

"You know about those?" He asks, he doesn't know why. He doesn't care.

"I'm on reddit and 4chan, I know more than I want to, to be honest." You say, faking a serious expression. "Someone made an experiment with his piss once-" You start, and Jungkook laughs at this, unable to be stoic about the way you so seriously say that. "I'm serious!" You laugh along, and he nods.

"No no, I believe you." He nods, using all his strength to make sure he doesn't grin, because his teeth look like a rabbits, she once told him. He doesn't want you to see it. Or maybe it's just become a habit. "Do you need help with that closet you bought?" He asks, and you giggle again. Did he say something weird?

"It's a dresser- but I guess it can classify as the same thing just smaller?" You think. "Wait when does a closet start and a dresser end- is it even size?" You begin thinking, and Jungkook apologizes instantly.

"You said dresser, I remembered that wrongly, sorry." He says, but you just playfully shake your head.

"No worries, maybe its even a closet and I just misunderstood." You tell him. "But yeah, if you could help me, that would be awesome! Gotta use those muscles for something, heh?" You joke, poking his stomach a little. He feels like you've just shot him. He doesn't know why he's so hyperaware of where you've placed your finger on his stomach, and it doesn't hurt, but in a way, it does. He doesn't know.

You're confusing him.

He trails after you like a lost dog and he's aware of it, but he can't help it. He's offered his help, it would be rude to just leave you be now, and he doesn't want to be rude to you. Even though he's been rude to you before already. Oh yeah- why do you seem so at ease with him?

You walk towards the place where he'd told you to get your furniture, and when the old man starts to place every piece in your cart, Jungkook helps without thinking. It's the same once you're at your car- he lifts it all into your trunk without thinking of the consequences it might have for him, adjusting the seats so everything can fit into the small vehicle properly. It's only when you go to bring back the cart that he realizes in horror what had happened.

The inside of his sweater feeling damp against his skin, body freezing as he can only imagine the darker stain on the back now where he knows he sweats the most. His neck feels just as cold as the wind passes him- even his hairline bothering him now. Why did he help you with that stupid furniture? He knows he sweats easily.

'Jungkook' she'd said, apologetic face when she'd spoken. 'you gotta do something about that. I don't wanna say its gross but.. well, it kinda is. No offense.'

Her voice doesn't let go of him even years after breaking up it seems. It echoes inside his head even as you're walking back towards him- and he falls into panic realizing he's gonna take public transport home. Maybe he should just walk. He didn't even get what he wanted to get anyways. "Thank you so much!" You say, grinning at him with genuine friendliness, and he just feels awkward standing like this in front of you. "Where did you park?" you wonder, and he shakes his head.

"Took the bus." He admits, and you nod.

"Oh- do you want to ride along? The least I can do is give you a lift home." You offer, but he's quick to shut it down.

"No no, it's fine, I'm all sweaty and gross now-" he rants, but much to his surprise, you simply shrug.

"Gross?" You ask, and he nods, ashamed.

"Yeah." He responds.

"Nah. Come on now, if you help be put it up too I'll put some chicken nuggets in the oven!" You giggle, getting in the car.

He doesn't know why he accepts your offer.

His smell is probably already noticeable to you in the small interior of the car. He doesn't rest his back against the seat- the fluffy covers way too clean to be touched by his sweaty back. He hates that he's like that. Maybe he should consult a doctor about this. This has to be an issue only he has. But then- your hand pushes against his front, forcing him to lean back into the seats.

You don't say anything, but you also don't need to. He just stares- because between all the horror of knowing now that you know about his insecurities and inner fights, there's a glint of relieve filling him. Because you're not annoyed. You don't seem bothered. You're still smiling a little, eyes on full alert while you keep your attention on the road in front.

While he right next to you can't help but think, how come he's never noticed how pretty your collarbones look? Not sharply protruding, or aggressively visible- but soft, delicate, and merely there to show that your bones underneath your skin are present. A simple necklace rests over them, pendant hidden in your cleavage, but the silver band alone seems enough to decorate that part of you perfectly. Your neck is a little red where you've scratched it a little earlier, itching the skin for no apparent reason- but it doesn't look out of place. It's like proof that you're alive, because looking at you now, he realizes what you remind him of.

Those old paintings of angels, with their soft bodies and rosy cheeks.

But that spot, and the slight redness on your nose is proof that you're alive. That there's blood running through your veins, that there's a heart beating and organs working inside of you. You're breathing next to him, and that alone makes him feel oddly out of place.

Because you're so at ease with just existing, it seems.

You know that he's staring, but you don't scold him either. You just smile, like always sugary sweet, when you have to stop at a red light- and he feels like he's drowning in honey.

But the strangest thing is that he's fine with that.

Because once in a while won't hurt your body, right?

……………………………………….｡.:✽:.｡………………………………………

Your apartment is odd.

Its Sunday, and he's currently waiting for you to do something in the kitchen while he takes off his shoes, looking around the area of your small home. It all looks warm, chaotic but inviting- like a genuine home. You don't seem to follow any sort of decoration theme, more or less simply existing, just like always, and it's odd to him how it all still fits together. It looks like you. Cozy.

"Alright, so-" You start, leading him into what he assumes is your bedroom, considering the bed in the corner. "-I just need help with like, holding some of the heavier boards. I'll screw, and you hold, alright?" You offer, and he nods. That's what he's here for. Why are you saying this stuff as if he's got an option here?

He doesn't even know why he's agreed to it- or even when exactly he did in the first place. All he knows is that you're actually good at following those disgustingly confusing instructions- never seeming to misunderstand where something goes, confident in the way you screw in those metal pieces, as if you've done this multiple times before. And all is fine until you have to stand awkwardly in front of him- and he becomes aware that you can probably look into the wide and short sleeves of his oversized grey shirt. You can probably see that he didn't shave, why didn't he think of that?

But you just smile at him for a second, as if to pacify his thoughts, before you turn back to your task.

He falls into his habit of judging you yet again when you sit on the carpeted floor, reading the instructions with screws in your hand while the other turns the page of the tiny booklet. The board has left a red indent in your thigh where you'd leaned into the wooden piece not too long ago, soft thighs seemingly without muscle while your arms look similar. Your wrists are small, fingers dainty like a doll- while your stomach rolls up in several little folds from the way you sit a bit hunched over, legs crossed now. The thin straps of your top lay carefully over your shoulders, and only now does he realize you're not even wearing a bra- faint outline of your nipples against the inner fabric of the top giving him the clue to come to this conclusion.

There's oddly enough no sexual thought in his mind though. Only the mere question about, how?

How can you just sit there so comfortably, not even realizing how admittedly unflattering you're showing yourself to him right now? You're not wearing makeup, your hair a little messy, and he hates the fact that you still look pretty to him. You look adorable, with the way you lick your lips before biting the upper one a bit deep in thought. Is it a habit? He wants to know, and he doesn't even know why.

"Jungkook?" You ask, waving your hand in front of his face a little. He didn't realize he's sat down on the back of his heels by now, probably staring into nothingness. The carpet has created angry red imprints on his knees. They look awfully boney compared to yours- he can't help but pull down the seams of his sweat shorts, his gaze falling onto the little heart shaped pendant hanging from your necklace. There's a paw print on it, and he wants to know why. Do you like pets? Why don't you have any? Then his eyes fall back onto your cleavage. Your breasts look just as soft as the rest of you. Are you warm? Could you warm him up if he touched you? "You can let go now, you now?" You say, and his heart stops beating for a second, eyes snapping up to meet yours.

"The board. You.. can let it go." You giggle a little, and he swallows hard, and lets go of it. There's a sweaty handprint left. Great- he's being gross again.

"Maybe I should skip dinner today." You say suddenly, and he feels ripped out of whatever thought he might've had just seconds ago.

"What?" He asks, whispers almost.

"You know, to combat all of this?" You say, sitting back and stretching out your legs or a second. "Maybe if I work out hard like you I don't look like the Michelin man when sitting down?" You laugh, but he doesn't see the joke. Where is this coming from? He doesn't like that you talk about yourself like that. "Do you think if I lost weight my face would look like those models in the TV commercials?"

"Stop it.." He says, barely above a whisper, in no way an actual threat. You just rant on.

"But then again, it's probably genetics. Imagine my body being all toned but my face still all round. I'd look hideous- all for nothing, really." You sigh. "But plastic surgery is an option. The easy way. I mean, I saved up to maybe move into a bigger apartment, but imagine how my life could change if I was pretty!" You tell him excitedly, and he hurts. "Like, actually, conventionally pretty!" You tell him. "I'd finally be loved too-"

"Stop.!" He barks out now, having reached his breaking point. He wants to apologize for yelling, but you're still smiling, sitting right in front of you. Only now does he feel your knees touching his- skin warm, warmer than his own it seems. Or maybe he's just imagining it. He can't stop staring at the differences. "Don't say that.."

"It's rough hearing someone else talk about themselves like you talk to yourself, isn't it?" You say suddenly, quietly, softly, and he feels his eyes sting. Now he really wants you to stop. "Truth is, Jungkook, that I don't care." He looks up at you. "I don't care what you look like. I don't care what I look like." You say, and he swallows thickly before attempting to get up. But you don't let him, holding his arms, even though you're no match for him.

He lets you win.

He doesn't know why.

But he lets you.

And he cries into the crook of your neck, all ugly and loud, sobbing now because who cares? He's already crying in front of you, so fuck it. It doesn't matter now, he just wants to exist just for a moment too, without thoughts and expectations and deadlines and time, and your hands are so gentle running over his back, your body heavy on his lap, but in no way uncomfortable. He feels as if your weight keeps him from floating away, from breaking apart and being swept away by the waves.

He calms down only after a moment- but refuses to look at you. Embarrassment is already creeping up his throat, making its home in his mind when he realizes the way he'd cried all over your naked shoulder. He's being gross again. "Who hurt you, Jungkook?" You carefully ask, and he shrugs.

"No one." He answers, voice raspy.

"Bullshit." You respond. "This doesn't happen for no reason." You say, and it's quiet for a good moment, giving him the opportunity to break apart from you- but he doesn't want to. You're warm- and he hasn't had something sweet in years. He just wants a taste.

"I was gross back then. I still am, sometimes." He admits. "Like right now."

"You're not." You reassure, but he shakes his head.

"She loved when I worked out. Said I looked like a Greek god when I was at my peak." Jungkook explains, for the first time spilling anything about it. "She wouldn't sleep with me if I slacked with my workout. But when I managed to stay on schedule, she'd love me. And I loved her."

"Jungkook.." You say, but he continues to rant.

"She really loved me then. You know. All the bad things she told me, all the times she yelled at me, I could understand it then. It was to help me, so she could love me at my best." He tries to justify, but you just squeeze his body.

He likes that feeling. He wants you to do it again.

"That's not love, Jungkook." You admit to him. "She didn't love you, Jungkookie. She loved your body, nothing else."

"I don't care." He simply responds.

"But I do." You say, and he feels his eyes sting again. "I care about you."

"You said you didn't." Jungkook fights back, leaning back a little and your hands wipe his tears from his cheek without any sense of disgust.

"I said I don't care what you look like." You remind him, and he can't help but stare. Have your eyes always been this pretty? They're like two rare gemstones polished to perfection, moving so lively and looking so warm and inviting. Even the faint redness and blemishes look more like stars now than anything else. "I care who you are. You're such a handsome being, but it's all messed up because of someone who didn't even notice what she had." You say.

"You're just saying that to boost my confidence." He responds.

"I'm saying this because you deserve to have that confidence." You instead say, and he cant help but stare for a second. "Don't kiss me now." You say, and he blushes, stammering a bit.

"I-wh.. why not?" He wonders. The moment is perfect, so why don't you want to? He's confused. It all sounded so much like you liked him- maybe even loved him.

"Because right now, you're not properly thinking." You say. "Go home. Sleep. Go about your day- don't think about it." You instruct. "For once, just exist. You've got free will Jungkook, no one cares if you work out or not, if you go get a coffee or not, or if you stay at home and laze around all day. Do what you want to, just for once, and not what you think is expected." You say.

"And if I still want to kiss you after?" He asks, and you smile.

"Then I'll be here, waiting."

……………………………………….｡.:✽:.｡………………………………………

It's been weeks since you've seen Jungkook.

Yoongi says he's gone on a trip, camping, something he's not done since he was a kid. You're happy- he deserves to do what he likes, and to exist without any boundaries. "He's looked.. a lot warmer these days." Yoongi says, speaking to you who's sitting on his couch in his studio. "I have a feeling I know who's at fault."

"Hmhm, maybe." You say. "I still can't believe how much damage that bitch has done." You grumble to yourself, loosing a game on your phone, and letting it fall out of your hand onto the carpet on the floor.

"Yeah. I remember how heartbroken he was when they broke it off." He sighs, before clicking some stuff on his computer. "Did he talk to you at all these days?"

You shake your head. "Not a single message. It's fine though- he's probably busy enjoying his newfound freedom." You giggle, and Yoongi turns in his chair, looking at you.

"It's okay to be upset." He tells you, and you nod, well aware. You're not upset though- you're happy for him, genuinely so. Maybe he'll find someone who will finally cherish him for who he is, and not what he looks like. He deserves feeling happy. "Come here, angel." He suddenly says, and only now do you realize the tears falling from the corners of your eyes.

Seconds later dampening Yoongi's sweater, while he holds you close in the quietness of his studio.

……………………………………….｡.:✽:.｡………………………………………

"What do you mean he doesn't work here anymore?" Jungkook wonders, standing in front of Jin who simply shrugs, defeated.

"I think Yoongi said she's now a lyricist under his label. Don't know where she went now though, sorry." He offers, before going back to wiping the counters.

Outside, Jungkook calls his friend with eager taps of his fingers- but he's not picking up. You said you'd be waiting, you told him you'd wait- so why did you leave now? You loved that bakery, you had a passion for your work, so why did you just break apart from that?

Because you've got free will.

You're way more aware of it than he is himself, having only newly discovered it, but it hurts to think that you just left like that. Sure, it's been almost half a year, but is that really too late now?

Your apartment.

He takes the bus line he's taken before, stands in front of the building, tries hard to remember which apartment number was yours, but he can't for the life of him focus anymore. He doesn't remember, he doesn't know- how could he forget a fucking number like that? Maybe you tested him, tested his love and he literally royally fucked up that test like a champ, because he took all your advice, all your efforts and all your comfort and ran off with it instead of staying. He should've stayed. He should've insisted.

He should've fought.

"Jungkook?"

His phone vibrates in his pocket before it falls out, clatters to the ground. The screen is probably broken. He doesn't care.

"I still want to kiss you." He says.

You break out in laughter.

Before pulling him down towards you.

……………………………………….｡.:✽:.｡………………………………………

"That's not how you do it." Jungkook says, furrowing his brows.

"So?" You say. "Not a crime I'm committing here. Modern problems require modern so-lutions!" You struggle with the chopsticks, before the cork of the wine bottle finally plops out. "Hah! You see that? I'm a survival specialist, Bear Grylls has nothing on me!" You triumph, before pouring some in his glass, then your own.

"So you plan to survive a let's say, zombie apocalypse, with wine?" He raises an eyebrow, the warm fire between the two of you crackling away and painting your body in red hues.

"Hey, being drunk makes a lot of situations better." You offer, and he laughs- freely, corners of his eyes crinkling a little, bunny smile on full display. You like him most like that. Free.

Happy.

"Hm, I disagree." He says.

"Oh?" You challenge.

"Hmhm." He tells you, taking a sip of his wine after you. "For example, my first time with you shouldn't be wasted with alcohol." He cheekily says, and you blush- happy the fire covers that change in color for you. "I wanna remember it." He teases. He's become awfully bold- entire being evolving into something you can only describe as dangerous.

"Ah.." You just respond.

"Too much?" He asks, and you shake your head.

"No- just.." You say, unable to quite put it into words. "It's weird hearing someone say that, you know, to me." You say.

"Why?" He wants to know. Are you a virgin? He highly doubts that- considering you're pretty soul and pretty smile. There's no way he's the first to ever be interested in you like that.

"I don't know, it just.. happens, I guess. I'm good at giving advice left and right, but I'm bad at following that myself. I.." You admit, sighing as you look at the fire. "..tend to let myself be used, I guess."

"Why?" He asks again, but this time its whispered, like he himself can't believe what you're telling him.

"Because it lets me dream a little?" You giggle. "It's why I didn't kiss you, you know, right away. I know where it would've lead."

"And you don't want that with me?" He wonders, but you shake your head no.

"I do." You say. "I did back then too." You confess without shame. "But.. I liked you too much. It would've crushed me to wake up and realize it's been nothing but a short fever dream. I would've hated myself if you woke up and.. I don't know, realized that you don't like me like that after all, and that emotions were just hot and high."

Jungkook nods at that- because he can't say that it wouldn't have happened like that. You looked out for him that night as well, maybe without knowing it- and he's thankful you did. Because it gave him time, freedom, and the chance to really let everything sink in and flow through.

It made him realize that he still loves you, even if you hadn't been the one to wake him up like you did.

"Now I ruined the mood." You laugh, throwing your head back a bit in dramatic agony. "Ugh I'll never get anywhere like this."

Wordlessly, Jungkook puts his glass down on the plastic table, before he walks over to you and takes yours as well, helping you stand up. "Jungkook?" You wonder, and he just kisses you, soft and warm like he always does. It's silent, there's no need for words, especially not when he picks you up and opens the door of the campervan, bringing you inside where he immediately tries to shed your thick jacket and sweater.

"You're so pretty." He chants out, hands running over your warmed up skin like he has to convince himself that you're real. And he does, in a way- because it all feels absolutely surreal to him in every way.

He doesn't think about his own appearance at all. He doesn't care.

He doesn't mind when you pull his own sweater over his head, hood of it catching on his jaw and making you both laugh. Your hands on his skin feel like heaven, he's never realized how he'd burn the world down just to feel your skin against his own. You're holding onto him like he's worth millions, his lips chasing yours, teasing you every now and then by not letting you get as close as you'd like to.

Sex has never been so exciting and comfortable at the same time for him.

Every sound you make, every heavy breath or whine he drinks up like a starving man, hands gripping your flesh like you'll disappear if he doesn't hold onto you strong enough. There's trust in this- trust you'll tell him where to go if he looses his way, trust that you'll accept what he does for what it is, trust that you'll love him just as much as he loves you.

Your thighs are soft, laying over his shoulder as he holds onto them, his mouth busy on your core.

You're both cute and absolutely enchanting, writhing and squirming under his actions, whimpers accompanying his own obscene noises he doesn't care about making. You're divine, you deserve to be treated like it as well.

And you cum so prettily too, toes curled and hands reaching out for his own.

"I love you." He says, and you smile up at him, kissing his lips before you turn his chin towards the side.

"And I love you too, but maybe no kids yet?" You joke, making him laugh and nod as he walks over to fetch a condom out of his bag. He didn't specifically plan anything to happen on the trip with you- but he still prepared in hopes of it. "Jungkookie.." You say, when he's back above you, wrapping the contraceptive over his length.

"Hm?" He wonders, looking at you wide wide eyes, in all his naked glory and inked up skin.

"I love you." You say, and he grins, brightly even though he's barely illuminated by the little campfire outside.

"I love you too." He responds, adjusting your positions to push himself inside. "Everything about you." He adds on, before he moves, slowly, agonizingly slow, frustrating you. But he seems to enjoy that struggle, rather than feel like he needs to adjust anything. "We've got time." He chuckles, and you wrap your legs around his middle at that.

"Please..!" You beg, and he only cocks his head to the side at that, hair falling into his face a little. "Kook, please, come on-"

"Impatient now?" He wonders, and you huff.

"Obviously!" You call out, making him laugh again before he pushes your thighs towards you, adjusting his pace to a more brutal thrusting.

Your head spins.

"You look so fucking pretty like that." He praises, hands on your skin digging into your flesh, probably leaving imprints later on.

Good.

"Gotta mark you up all pretty too, right?" He grunts into your neck, kissing first, before he bites, sucks, claims almost. "Gotta make sure they know you're mine." He says breathlessly.

"Yours." You respond out of breath yourself, before you clench around him, orgasm hitting you hard at his ruthless pace. He himself can't help the obscene moan that escapes him as well, coming undone only a short time after you.

"Make sure they know you're mine?" You joke, out of breath. "Where did that come from?"

"My heart." He says, making you slap his chest. "Ow!"

"You're so cheesy!"

"You love me for it."

Yes.

Yes you do.

……………………………………….｡.:✽:.｡………………………………………

Tags

reblog to read jungkook fluff jungkook smut jungkook angst jungkook fic

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koorosie

3 years ago

the millionaire and his lover | jjk

⇒ summary: over the course of your lifelong friendship with jungkook, you can’t say that you’ve ever had the greatest ideas, and a fake relationship with the boy you’ve been in love with for years is no exception.

⇒ self-gratuitous ceo au, friends-to-lovers, and fake relationship trope rolled into one big shitstorm of a jungkook fic

⇒ pairing: jungkook x female reader

⇒ word count: 18k

⇒ genre: fluff, angst, and light smut

⇒ warnings: alcohol mentions, smut

⇒ a/n: hello all! i wanted to kickoff my writing on this blog with a bang, so here’s a longish fic on my wildest dreams.

Keep reading

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koorosie

3 years ago

invisible string ಌ jjk ╱ 𝐈.

ಌ summary: a decade wasn’t enough to rid you of the pesky, silly and not so little crush you harbored for jeon jungkook during your miserable teenage years. even now, when he’s a totally different person from the geek you used to know.

ಌ back to the series masterlist.

𝐈. it’s still not over for me.

ಌ pairing: jjk x reader (f). ಌ genre: childhood friends to lovers | high school reunion au | angst + fluff. ಌ rating: pg-16. ಌ word count: 2,6k. ಌ content warning(s): swearing/heavy language (a lot!!), angst & co., mentions of unrequited love, brief mentions of bullying, themes of jealousy, passive aggressive text messages, slight depictions of a cold/fever, just a whole lot of miscommunication as a plot & that’s all for now!

ಌ author’s note: it’s here! and it’s much shorter than i anticipated for a first chapter, but within good reason: it’s very plot heavy and i wanted to save up the next few scenes for the second chapter. plus, nothing like building a little mystery, eh? ;) i want to thank you all for being so so patient, so loving & so warm towards me. bonus mentions to @lavienjin for their endless support & @gothbabejk for hyping me up! i love you guys. (and again, i’m very sorry for the short first chapter). enjoy!

ಌ taglist: @fangirl125reader @helenazbmrskai @babyrosieareroses @blue-jade @vantezza @diorejeon @akshstudios @queenmasterxx @ggukkieland @daggersandicedcoffee @kookxin @illegurlbangtan @supernoonanyc @pinkbubblegumuniverse @bloopkook @bbangtanlove95 @kirbykook @haeilove @moonchild1 @bbtsficrecs @siadreams @namjeonii @crmyclit @suzysuee @jimilter @girlontheblock @ruruvia @heyitsjesc @stinkyeren @nayaty @taehyungseggs @bonobonoyaaaahh @hautae @shreyuuu @captainsjoongs @nochuel @namkook713 @mageprincess7 @itsbuffsanta @koorosie @claricedelune @fan-ati–c

– summer of 2009. –

The foundations of your heart are as rocky as the tiles of the rooftop which holds the weight of your bodies leaning against one another. The midnight breeze hasn’t been gentle in these first few days of summer’s end, not in the way you expected it to.

Hours of sleeplessness began to catch onto you, clinging onto Jungkook’s body for more support. He’s as solid as a stone, holding his gaze to the purple dawn sky awaiting the sunrise. You can’t remember which one of you had the stupid idea to climb onto the roof to watch the first hours of the morning, but it’s not as weird as you thought it’d be.

It’s tempting to close your eyes right as the sun threatens to cross the horizon, reminding you of the last few days of summer, your last high school year and your only one best friend.

Keep reading

Tags

reblog to read childhood friends to lovers jungkook fic

520 notes View Post

koorosie

3 years ago

to build a home | chapter one

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

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

word count: 6.8k (y’all need context okay)

warnings: oof. oof. buckle up. angst, loads of angst! (im sorry), touches on subjects such as: depression (hints), postpartum depression, abandonment, mild prescription medication talk, loads of jk crying :(, loads of crying baby :(, swearing

author’s note: hi! this is a very self-indulgent storyline that sort of came to me and I just had to put thought into paper. well, I ended up really liking the plot and my mind started going places and now it’s all I can think about. i do have to say it’s going to be a bit of a slow burn but! not like this chapter though – this chapter had to be informative to set the context. my mans jk did not suffer for nothing! i hope cute baby / loving dad jk made up for all the angst in this! also! It’s gonna get sexy, ~sexy so just u wait! also! I don’t have a set schedule but this story is coming to me in heavy bursts of inspiration so I might be whipping chapters left and right (cross ur fingers). also! (the last one, promise) I hate Ira too :)

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

Chapter One

The digital clock on the console of his car marks six thirty pm on the dot. It makes Jungkook’s gaze shift to the sky – a synchronicity so perfect the sun begins to set right upon his eyes. Spring is easing into Summer and he can’t wait for the longer days and shorter nights the hot season bestows.

“We need one last look-over the contracts to finalize. I think the visit this weekend will finally see us wrapping this up. And then inauguration one month from now.” Seokjin’s voice fills the enclosed space of Jungkook’s car, a slight echo to his voice coming from the speakers.

“Sounds good, hyung. Good work.” He tells his cousin, right hand and the COO of his company.

“Hey, is Ira coming this weekend?” He asks. His question leaves Jungkook wondering. He assumes she will.

“Haven’t discussed it yet, could be good for her though. We can make a getaway of it.” He replies, head already swimming with ideas of how refreshing a family trip could be for the three of them.

“Alright, kid. Send my love.” Seokjin says, making him let out a light chuckle, before the line goes silent.

In the road ahead, the sun resumes its steady descend. His home comes to view at the very end of the street, the colours of the sky dancing against the sleek white walls. It’s been a long day and he’s tired. Now more than ever, with the inauguration of the new addition to his chain of hotels nearing, he craves the grounding feeling of being home – two familiar faces awaiting. One full of unconditional love.

He parks his cls next to hers, the sleek white shade contrasting against his black one. Grabbing his phone and keys from the cup holder, he exits the car, climbing the steps to his front door and inserting the code that unlocks it.

Home. He takes pride in the need he holds for it, how much he craves it, how much he wants to be the backbone of the one he built. The idea of family gets morphed when you’re brought into an immeasurable amount of wealth. His parents, although good intentioned, lacked the warmth he so badly wants to install in his own roots.

He wants his daughter to grow up in a house that doesn’t look like a showroom, a distinctive smell swarming its spaces, one she’ll hold in the back of her memory until she has kids of her own. Home, never lacking the coziness a touch of love can bring a space, no matter how vast. He wants her mother to be half of that love, more than anything. Because he wants that love for her, more than anything.

He heads upstairs, the house eerily quiet. It’s two hours to bed time and he assumes Ira is winding Soori down for the night.

He reaches the top of the stairs and begins walking down the long corridor, passing a room, then two, until he finally reaches Soori’s nursery. The door is wide open and as he steps in, he sees Ira standing in front of her crib, back to him, almost hovering. He sees Soori fast asleep, blanket covering her tiny body, pacifier moving gently to the in and out of her suckling, a tight grip on her favorite giraffe plushie on her chubby baby fist.

“Hey, beautiful.” He says to Ira, though she doesn’t move from the place he found her in. “Why is she asleep so early? Fun day?” He asks, voice filled with hope. He pictures the two of them by the warm sun, basking in the easiness of the season. They’ve been introducing Soori to the water – the idea of the two of them splashing in the big pool pulling his lips upwards in a soft smile.

It doesn’t linger, the smile. Ira turns around, a sombre look to her face, unable to hold his gaze for more than a second as she redirects her eyes to the floor.

“Jungkook…,” She begins, voice barely a whisper, but ever so stern.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” He asks, approaching her, instinctively resting his hands on her arms before they come up as she holds herself, bracing her front.

“I booked a job. In New York.” She says, eyes finally meeting his.

“Ahh! That’s great! That’s amazing, Ira.” Jungkook says, pulling her into a hug she doesn’t return. He knows how badly she’s been craving this. A breakthrough, a taste of independence – the power of knowing she could hold all titles whilst still being mom. “We can make a trip of it! We could all go.” He muses, excitement lacing his voice as he pulls away, eyes scanning for hers.

“It’s this weekend-” She begins, but his words bring hers to a halt.

“Ah, I have that business trip but hey, you take the plane, alright?” Jungkook knows how much Ira hates flying. Long haul flights doing a thing to her nerves that require a dose or two of her therapist’s strongest prescription drug. This all comes ironically, considering her title – It girl, world-renowned model, Ira Sommersmith.

“No, Jungkook. No.” She says, arms coming to rest at her sides, pushing his hold on them away as she takes one step back, creating distance between them. The action is loud to Jungkook, the emotional space between them being too much to bear for his heart and her actions breaking it all over again.

“Bab-” He stops himself, the pet name fresh on his tongue, remembering how she’s come to despise it as Jungkook began adapting it to Soori, too. “Ira.” He says, his voice a plead, a prayer. He doesn’t know what the prayer entails but he’ll start mentally chanting it, bracing himself for impact.

“I’m leaving, Jungkook. I need to- I need to go. For good.” Her voice lacks hesitation, no pause. He simply stares at her, dumbfounded, numb to the effect his body is taking, cold sweats breaking through him. “I’m sorry. This is- you play this role too well, Jungkook. I just can’t seem to follow the script.”

“It’s not a role.” Jungkook says, voice a whisper that makes his words hard to grasp to Ira, but she knows what he said. She knows he would say that. She takes him in, takes one last long look at his face before it breaks her. She’s not scared of backing down from her plan, she’s scared of seeing his eyes full of heart look into hers, a lack thereof.

And she can accept it. She can wholeheartedly confess she doesn’t have the heart it takes to become selfless, to give into the three that makes the whole – Jungkook’s line that he’s adapted to bring hope into the immense cloud of blue that fell upon her when it all became too real. When the idea of three became a reality one morning after he’d gone to work and she stared at the mirror, a bump bulging at the center of her otherwise lean physique. Her first thought wasn’t that of excitement but of confusion. It felt foreign and it took her aback so frantically she found herself calling her OB/GYN, voice shaky as she repeated, “it came out of nowhere, I just- I wasn’t showing yesterday…” Her panic was received by a faint laugh on the other line, reassuring her pregnancy had no fixed agenda and that her “little one” had decided to make him or herself known. She waited for the doctor’s words to hit, for the excitement to follow, but it didn’t. What truly broke her came next as the doctor took her silence for something else and ended her discourse with a, “surprise, mama!”

Ira brought her phone down, staring at the screen before abruptly hanging up. She’d hope the doctor would blame it on poor connection.

She went about her day in autopilot, waiting. Waiting for the new curvature her body was taking on to simply be an add on in the sea of hopes that her pregnancy had brought until that very morning. But it never came. It never came, and the tears that would stream down her face late at night when the world slept and the darkness accepted her thoughts as they came, weren’t due to the impatience of her heart longing to love the life she was forming inside of her. They came out of fear it would.

Ira’s heart wasn’t fragile. Quite the opposite – it lacked the fragility it requires to love unconditionally.

When Soori came into the world, she made her entrance kicking and screaming. Ira understood; the overwhelm of the space was getting to her, too. At least on that they could agree. Her wails filled the room and muffled her hearing, everything in slow motion as shock set upon her. The pain between her legs from delivering her minutes prior subsided as numbness took over. She could hear her cries nearing and she finally came out of her trance the moment the nurse placed Soori on top of her chest. She looked down at her, arms coming up to hold her tiny frame in place. And when she did, dense silence filled the room as she found comfort in her mother’s arms and her cries came to a rest, opening her eyes for the first time. Ira looked down once again and understood the meaning of unconditional love. Soori was warm against her and that’s when she knew she’d never be able to reciprocate said love. Cold shivers ran down every corner of her body, settling into her heart. She understood it, but she couldn’t feel it.

“I’m sorry,” she says again, “I tried.” The last words fade away as she turns around, taking one last look at her daughter, a part of her tries again, focusing on the heartstrings of her soul, waiting for the pull. Nothing comes and she closes her eyes, breathing in, knowing that'd be the last time she'd take in her daughter. She turns around, looking at Jungkook for a split second. He’s frozen in place, gaze lost, fixated on the pastel pink wall in front of him, unable to look at her. “Goodbye, Jungkook. You-,” she can’t tell if he’s listening but she finishes anyway, “you were good to me. Okay? You-,” she needs to get out of there, now. “Goodbye.” And with that, she leaves. Past the door of the nursery, not a beat behind, without second guessing. She leaves and doesn’t turn back to witness Jungkook’s world coming to a slow, quiet shatter. The sort of silence that settles into your bones uncomfortably.

His world stops and, in the numbness, he becomes hyperaware of his senses. He doesn’t miss her steps down the corridor and back, the sound of wheels against the floor distinct this time, down the stairs and finally, he hears the front door close.

Soori stirs behind him, a faint whine leaving her mouth as she begins to wake up.

Jungkook’s legs feel heavy, glued to the floor, and his eyes haven’t left that spot on the wall they fixated in when he realized that watching Ira leave would make it all that more painful. And so, he stands there, mind empty yet hazy with incoherent thoughts he can’t puzzle together. An ominous cloud fills the space as the sun finally sets and the room goes dark around him. For a minute, Jungkook basks in a thought surprisingly comforting: the worst thing has already happened. It takes him in and cradles him as he goes with that narrative.

It doesn’t last long. Soori’s cries from behind him sound distant, faint, for the briefest of seconds before they fully snap Jungkook out of his trance. His baby. He turns around and sees her little figure propped up against the bars of her crib, looking up at him, pacifier hanging from the string that attaches it to her sleeping gown. Her eyes are red and glassy with tears and he wonders for how long she’s been crying.

“Hey, hey…,” his voice is gentle, a soft coo as he reaches for Soori, flushing his chest to hers once he has her in his arms. His free hand coming up to cradle her head as he softly sways back and forth, “it’s okay, baby. I’m here… I’m here.”

Her crying comes to a halt but she fusses in his arms, little whines escaping her mouth as Jungkook settles into the rhythm he knows she finds soothing. It’s then that it dawns upon him – his brief encounter with comfort was a lie his brain told his heart. Delusion a form of survival. His hold on Soori’s head tightens a bit, almost as if to ease the impact his thoughts might have on her. The worst is yet to come. His tears fall freely now, fear and uncertainty tugging at his chest in a way that takes him aback with how physically painful it is. His hands shake and his legs feel weak, like they won’t be able to hold him, or the burden that settles through him for much longer.

He gives in before they give out, slowly lowering his legs as they cross until he can finally feel the soft fabric of the carpet underneath him. Soori’s tears release yet again the moment the swaying stops, the new position on the floor in her father’s arms making her even more restless. He holds her, whispering a string of sorry, sorry, sorry against her ear as he brings her soft cheek flush to his until their tears form an even stream of droplets falling down their faces, settling uncomfortably on their necks.

He loses track of time and he can feel, ever so distinctively, as his spirit weakens by the minute. Mind still in that haze that makes it hard to distinguish between an empty mind and a racing one. He can’t find the words and as soon as his worries fixate on one thing in particular, he swerves around it. Not really letting his brain linger on just one to nit-pick, instead preferring the overwhelm of them all combined, thrown at him together. He rather not know what exactly scares him the most about this situation.

Usually enticed by challenge, this one finds him unwilling. He wants nothing more than to lower his whole body to the floor, hold his baby and close his heavy lids until he falls into a deep slumber. But he knows he can’t. Soori can’t stay still. Soori crawls. Soori is small but mighty and it would take her a matter of minutes to find her way to the stairs. Soori’s cries bounce on the walls, getting louder and louder. He wonders if she had her night bottle. Soori nibbles on her hand the way she’s come to do as she teethes, face scrunched up in discomfort. Soori needs him.

Soori came into the world kicking and screaming and with a healthy shade of pink adorning her tiny body that finally made Jungkook release the breath he’d been holding from the moment he could see her head from his position next to Ira as he held her hand. His first thought was how small she was, he couldn’t shake the fear of having her in his arms, wondering if she’d fit just right. Her cries restored something inside of him he’d long lost when he was very young and the harshness of the world tumbled down upon him, stripping him of an innocence he knew he’d want his daughter to carry for as long as she could. The overwhelm in his heart when he cut her umbilical chord was the sweetest he’d experience; and when she was finally placed in her mother’s chest and he could allow the world to slow down around him to take in his daughter for the first time, he made an unspoken vow. Love would always be stronger. Hope would always prevail. As long as she needed him, those two would be the root of his every action. Strength found its way to a corner of his heart that was growing by the second the more he stared at Soori. He’d take on the bravery of the world so as to make hers softer. And he’d love her in all of his lives.

He gets up, body feeling lethargic but adjusting his grip on his daughter’s body, putting his whole consciousness there. He doesn’t trust his limbs.

“Are you hungry, baby?” He asks her. It’s rhetoric, for various reasons. “Yeah, you are.” He says, even though he’s not sure. He begins the trip towards the kitchen, forcing a mental strain to go about his every step. To wrap around his every thought. To figure out where to go from here.

He reaches the bottom of the stairs, stopping by the living room first to lay her gently on the couch before removing her sleeping gown, setting her free from the restraints and letting her legs kick at him. Her demeanour changed and when he stares into her eyes, slightly envious of how her tears have seemed to dry, she smiles at him. It’s a wide grin that flashes him her two little bottom teeth that are beginning to come through and his heart melts at the sight. His heart hurts but she nurses the wound slowly and he can’t help but smile back at her. It takes him aback at times – how in nine short months he’s come to grow so enamoured with this fun-sized version of a human that demands so much time, attention and energy from him. But it’s moments like these, when she shines light into his dark corners with just a smile, that he understands. She holds more power in her two peeking bottom teeth than half of the things Jungkook thought gave him purpose nine months ago when she made her entrance into the world. Kicking and screaming and pink.

He cradles her in his arms once again as he stands up and positions her to rest at his waist. She instinctively grabs his ear – another one of the habits she’d picked up recently. Jungkook likes knowing he’s able to soothe her, almost mindlessly. Something catches his eye and he recognizes it immediately. Ira’s phone, resting on top of the coffee table. He leans, tapping the screen until it flashes back at him. Her wallpaper is a picture of her and Jungkook, taken three years prior, at the beginning of their relationship. Their happy faces stare back at him – mocking him. He scoffs. Nothing’s funny but he’s laughing because he can’t allow himself a fit of anger right now. And crying sounds too exhausting, his eyes too tired.

It hits him again, not that he needed much confirmation. It hits him that she’s not looking back. It hits him that she left with every intention to not spare them a second glance. It hit him that wherever she is, their realities are so different now. The moment she walked out that door she left nothing and everything that mattered behind. She freed herself from her role and walked steadily into the direction of whatever she deems as freedom. Ira was never one to ease into things. It used to be something that excited him. He looked at her and at times his brain painted flames of fiery orange seeping through her. Bold, confident – fearless.

He stands in front of the kitchen counter, one handing the process of making Soori’s bottle. Eyes lost, not really following the formula as it goes inside the bottle, the water – its temperature. Too hot? No, too cold. He puts it inside the bottle warmer, pushes the button and waits. He asks himself if he’s surprised or just heart broken. Mentally, he shakes the Jungkook from two hours ago and asks him, “did you not see it coming? Were you trying or were you lying to yourself?” The conclusion he draws feels like not enough. He saw it coming, yes. For over a year now he’s felt like the path he’s been walking went from eggshells to shattered glass – unavoidable, painful, way too fucking loud. So, he knew. He knew his feet would give out. He knew she was going to cut through all of him one day. Yet as much knowledge as he held when it came to his situation, he could’ve never seen this coming. He’d imagine their impending doom hitting him in the face eventually. They weren’t married, she could just leave at any moment. She could leave him at any moment. He’d set her free and he’d still give Soori a home, doubled in love to make up for her parent’s distance and the back and forth she’d have to endure. He would’ve tried. More couple’s therapy, individual counselling, all the help he could muster to get from friends and family. Trips to bond, trips to escape. He did all that and he would’ve done more. Because he loved her. He loves her.

He’s not sure when their love became mechanical, a form of habit. Disappointment tends to do that to people, he reckons. But he still did love her and he tried. Not just because of Soori but because of Ira, too. And because of them. Not the three, but the two they used to be. The same two that rest on top of his coffee table, trapped inside a memory forever, unaware of the future ahead but so hopeful. He loved the love they had and so for that reason, he loved her.

The bottle warmer beeps and he takes it out of the sleek looking machine. Soori bounces in his hold, excited. “Come on, missy. Let’s have dinner.” He tells her and she throws some unintelligible baby noises at him.

He heads back to the living room and sits them down on the couch. He props Soori against a pillow and feeds her the bottle. What are we going to do, he thinks, but brushes the thought away. This weight falls on his shoulders and he makes yet another unspoken vow as he stares down at her. He promises her a soft impact, painless whenever it can. He promises to hold her and coax her through it, to ease the burden and to explain with lullabies when the time is right. He stares at her until her eyes flutter, beginning a sleepy dance as she fights to stay awake, holding her feet in her small hands. A silent tear falls down his eyes and that’s the last sight, slightly blurry because of her long eyelashes, between her heavy lids before she falls into a peaceful slumber.

He paces around the living room. He paces the way he does when ideas are brewing inside his head at work – new locations, new investors, new partnerships. Ideas, ideas, ideas. He’s good at coming up with them. He’s good at quick solutions to whatever problem might arise – it’s what made his father ease so effortlessly into an early retirement after teaching Jungkook the ins and outs of the so-called empire he now calls his.

Soori sleeps on the couch. The pillow she’d been propped up in now besides her, building a barrier between her body and the soft cushions. He knows she’d be off better in her crib but the idea terrified him, made him feel alone.

Ideas, ideas, ideas yet he can’t come up with a single one. A part of him tells him there’s not much left to do. It tells him that it’s been done. That it’s time to move on with his life, with their lives. But the mere idea of taking the leap – of moving on, finds him scared, confused and shatters him more and more. It also reminds him of the way she so casually walked out, like it didn’t matter. She set flame to the fire and didn’t even linger around long enough to watch it burn. It angers him, her carelessness. He’s not like that, never has been, and he’s not going to start now. He knows forcing himself to move on will only repercuss in him breaking even further in the long run. So, his first idea is to face the reality. But he can’t right now, he feels too alone, too small. He has to push his heroic persona aside and admit defeat. And so he does.

His second idea finds him seeking comfort. He can’t be comfort to Soori if he’s just breaking. He knows he’s going to break; he knows this is just the beginning, but he needs there to be more to it. He retrieves his phone from his back pocket, inhaling loudly as he unlocks it. He needs a friend. He has a couple, another thing he takes pride in, but he knows this situation is way too sensitive. He thinks of Seokjin, his contact the most recent call on his phone, but he quickly diverts. Suelgi, his wife, had grown rather fond of Ira and in a way, she’d become her confidant amidst the whirlwind that was motherhood. He doesn’t feel like delivering news that will require him comforting someone else to that extent – he can barely comfort himself, let alone his friend.

His eyes find Taehyung’s name on the screen, also a recent contact on his call history. Yes, good – this is good. Taehyung is good. Him and Mai have been a constant in Jungkook’s life for as long as he can remember. He’s seen them go from high school sweethearts to a painful college breakup that luckily ended up in them finding their way back to each other. It took Taehyung approximately 37 days to ask her to marry him. He’d never seen two people sport a last name with more pride – The Kims. Nowadays they also go by mom and dad. They’re Soori’s godparents and Jungkook’s best friends. He taps on his contact and the first ring against his ear sounds obnoxiously loud. His head pounds against his skull.

“Yo, you’re on speaker phone!” Taehyung’s voice, enthusiastic as always, fills the speakers. Jungkook stays quiet.

“Ggukie, we were just about to call you!” It’s Mai’s voice on the phone now. “Dae is down for the night and we just popped open that bottle of Don Julio 1942 Tae got after the inauguration of the gallery. He had an early mid-life crisis after Monsters Inc had him shedding tears before bedtime.” Jungkook can hear Taehyung’s gasp of offense at his wife’s confession somewhere in the background. He’s unable to make a sound as Mai continues. “He’s insisting we do something crazy to ‘feel young again’ so shots on a Wednesday it is!” she mocks.

“I…,” Jungkook begins – but where does he even start?

Taehyung grabs the phone from Mai, “come on, tell Irie. Soo can sleep in Dae’s old bassinet.”

“Ira’s gone.” He blurts out. It’s abrupt and probably not the best way to break the news but the pet name breaks him and he doesn’t think he can stay in their bliss for a second longer.

“Gone where?” Taehyung asks innocently and even though his question makes Jungkook’s temple throb in pain he doesn’t pin it against him.

But silence is all he can offer.

“Oh…,” Mai starts – intuitive as ever. Her voice is soft, and already Jungkook releases a bit of tension in his shoulders, knowing she understood. “Oh, Gguk…”

“I just-”

“Come over, Gguk. Or we can go – as you wish. Just say the words.” Mai comforts.

“No, I’ll go. I need to get out of here.” And those are the surest words that leave his mouth that night.

He’s gentle with Soori as he straps her into her car seat. She’s a heavy sleeper, just like him, but he still holds his breath as he settles her down and gets her ready for the road. He double checks the diaper bag and when everything ticks off his mental list he heads for the driver’s seat.

Soori sleeps and he tries to focus on the road and just the road. No music on the stereo. Just full focus on what he can see from his windshield as he takes turns on the wide streets of his neighbourhood and mental turns in his head, swerving all the painful thoughts away.

The quiet lasts maybe a total of three minutes before Soori’s wide awake and back to inconsolable crying. She’s not a whiny baby – her demeanour often praised for being so peaceful, big eyes taking in the world around her as she graces it with her softness. But she’s been in and out of sleep, out of schedule, and Jungkook knows she misses Ira.

Because when Ira said she tried, she wasn’t lying. She tried, she did. She breastfed until it was physically painful. She did the exhausting night feeds right alongside Jungkook and then what felt like ten years with no rest as Soori was sleep training. She gave her baths, took her to Thursday brunch with her friends, read her books before bedtime. When they took weekend trips to get away from routine, Ira got this aura about her – something bordering on happiness that she carried so effortlessly. It would leave Jungkook hopeful – but his hopes would crash the moment they settled back home. Her therapists’ suggestions for bonding with Soori all made sense to Ira. In fact, they were so good she almost believed them. Sometimes they would have long days in the sun, fun family gatherings where the affection Jungkook’s parents would give Soori would fill her with something that almost felt like pride. They would sit in the grass of their big garden and watch her play with his family dog and a glimpse of hope would knock on the closed doors of her heart. Those days felt so good, but the sun eventually set and the air would feel sombre again as they drove back to their house. Totheir lives. Deep within, Ira wished she could enjoy the day without having to take it back home with her.

The love Ira gave Soori was also mechanical. But Soori didn’t know better – all she saw was love. And warmth. And the smell of her mom’s clothes as she rocked her to sleep. The sound of her voice as she begged her to, ‘please be good. Please don’t cry. I can’t take it anymore,’ when Jungkook would leave and she’d have a whole day ahead of a life that felt like a chore. All Soori heard was lullabies because she doesn’t know better.

“We’re almost there, baby. Shh, Soo. You’re alright, pretty girl.” He says, but he doesn’t think she can hear him with how loudly she’s crying.

Soori misses her mom.

Jungkook cries, too. And, taking advantage of her high-pitched mewls that fill the confined space, he sobs too.

Jungkook parks behind Taehyung’s car in their driveway. He grips the steering wheel, afraid the moment his friends take them in it will all become too real. He sits there – Soori’s cries less sporadic this time, almost like she gave up on getting her father’s attention. He opens his door, welcoming the soft breeze inside his car for a brief moment before he’s closing it and heading towards the backseat.

Mai had been standing next to her window for the past fifteen minutes. Heir brain had been running around in circles, wondering how exactly things escalated, how they got to this point. She fears for her friend’s sanity, knowing Jungkook had been walking a thin line for as long as her memory remembers her very own excitement over Soori’s prompt arrival.

She sees his car drive in front of her house, taking a swift turn until he’s finally parked in her driveway. She can’t see much but she can paint a mental picture of Jungkook just sitting there, lost – an expression she’s seen him adapt more and more lately. She perks up at the sight of him but her face falls into a frown the minute she sees him walk back to the backseat.

“What-?” she whispers to herself. “Tae, Gguk is here. With… Soori,” she says, watching her little head come out of the backseat of his car.

“Soori?” Taehyung asks, confusion lacing his voice, a frown adorning his face.

Mai walks quickly to the front door, opening it before Jungkook reaches it. His eyes meet hers and he sighs. He notices her eyes fixated on Soori, who’s own are red and swollen from crying, whimpers still leaving her lips. Her breath is erratic and Jungkook feels her little body jolt as she begins to let out another cry. Mai’s confused expression lets Jungkook know that of course, his friends were expecting Ira to leave him. They were expecting Soori to leave him, too, by pure default. That’s just how the narrative usually unfolds, doesn’t it?

But the narrative isn’t catering to Jungkook’s best interests. Their narrative is far from what you would consider normal.

“Come in, Gguk. What-,” she begins, but opts not to bombard him with the hard questions right away. “Come in.”

Taehyung immediately reaches for Soori who falls into his arms seamlessly. “Hey, princess. Hey, you’re alright Soori girl. Come here.” He coos and she begins to soften at his voice, “that’s a big girl. Stop growing up.” He tells her, his last request a whisper, as he brings her cheek to his, holding her in embrace – comforting her.

Jungkook steps inside their home, its warmth embracing him immediately and he’s glad he came here.

Taehyung and Mai got an unexpected influx of money before Dae was born. The gallery they’d been running attracting a different sort of crowd all of a sudden. The curiosity and modernity of the curation they’d put their hearts and souls (and savings) into attracting a crowd of curious yet wealthy collectors, investors and sole lovers of the craft. One turned into two galleries, then three and now recently, four. They amount their success to the faith of the people, the artists and the consumers and the ones that were simply driven by the passion for it. Mai was seven months pregnant when they upgraded from their small one-bedroom apartment to their four-bedroom, white picket fenced home. The very first materialization of that first taste of big-time money.

The first words she let out when she stepped inside were, “I can’t wait for toys to litter these shiny floors.” And litter them they did, giving it a feel of family Jungkook admired and promised himself his own wouldn’t lack. Ira hated clutter though.

“Let’s sit down, okay?” Mai says calmly, holding onto his arm. His steps are a bit hesitant and wobbly – if she didn’t know better, she’d think he was drunk.

“Okay.” He returns.

Taehyung follows behind him, a quiet Soori nuzzled against his shoulder, breath fanning the crook of his neck that grows steadier within the second. Now more than ever, Jungkook is grateful for the soothing effect he has on her.

He sits down, Mai occupying the spot besides him. Taehyung stays positioned on his feet before them, gently swaying Soori from side to side as her body grows limp, temping sleep.

His head comes forward, gaze fixated on his shoes. He breaks. “She left us. She just… left. Said she’d booked a job in New York. I thought she’d be gone for a week at most. But then she said she’d be gone for good. She,” his words get stuck in his throat, pain unleashing inside of him all over again at the fresh memories, “said she tried. Took one last look at Soori and then just… left.”

As soon as his recollection of the story comes to an end, he realizes just how short it was. His life came to an abrupt stop and then took a 180 degree turn in the span of what Jungkook deems to have been five minutes.

He never wants to utter the words she said again.

He’s crying and Taehyung wants nothing more than to hold him, let him know that it will all be okay. But he’s finding it hard to believe it himself, so he leaves the words of comfort to Mai. His arms instinctively wrap tighter around Soori – heart breaking at the realization she’d been abandoned, too.

“Come here,” Mai says, wrapping her arm around him and letting him cry, head against her shoulder, his own shaking as silent tears spill from his eyes.

“Do you think she’ll come back, Gguk?” Taehyung asks, even though he knows the answer. He’s always found it easier to console after knowing the facts, not believing in the whole ignorance is bliss bullshit.

He shakes his head. His voice is quiet when he says, “No. She left her phone behind, her half of the closet was empty. I’m not even sure it’s New York where she was headed.”

Mai shakes her head in disbelief. Her motherly instincts take on flight or fight mode as she tries to grasp just how someone could do something like that.

“Okay…,” Taehyung begins, sitting down next to him. “Listen to me,” but Jungkook’s gaze is still transfixed to the floor. “Jungkook-ah.”

“Huh?” He says, voice distant, eyes still lost.

“We’ll figure it out. Okay? You and Soori- you’re not alone. We’re here and we’ll figure it out. You’ve got us, the both of you.” Jungkook nods at his friends’ words. Taehyung rests his head on top of his shoulder. He’s grateful for his reassurance, even if he doesn’t fully believe it.

They don’t press on any further, well aware this is not the time to dissect the situation. He lets Mai pull him to his feet. She asks him a couple of questions that he can’t fully follow so he shakes his head at every single one of them. With Soori asleep in Taehyung’s arms, he lets himself disassociate.

He follows Mai up the stairs, Taehyung right behind them. He doesn’t complain when the darkness of their guest bedroom impairs his sight slightly, finding comfort in its density. The feel of the bed against his aching body lulls him into something that almost feels like peace – senses calming down slightly, as if telling him the day has finally come to an end.

Taehyung is detaching Soori from his body, lowering her down towards the bassinet besides the bed. Jungkook jumps from his resting position in the bed, startling Mai who tries holding him back instinctively.

“No. Put her here. She- she needs to sleep with me, she-” His voice is frantic.

“It’s okay, Gguk. Look, she’s here.” Taehyung places her in the bed next to her father who follows the baby’s movement as his own head hits the mattress.

Mai builds a makeshift fort of pillows that surround Soori’s tiny frame, stacking one on top of the other for good measure. She makes a mental note to check up on her throughout the night.

“Baby monitor. Just in case he doesn’t wake up.” Taehyung says, placing one of the devices in the bedside table.

“Tae,” Mai starts but she doesn’t really know where the sentence was going. Shock settles upon her.

“I know.” He says.

“Fuck, Tae. What is he-,” Mai makes sure to hear for Jungkook’s soft snores before she finishes, “Soori’s only nine months old. How could she just leave?”

Taehyung wraps his arm around Mai, bringing her close to his chest as the same fear she’s feeling begins taking over him, too. He shakes his head. “I don’t know, baby. I- we’ll figure something out. It’ll be alright.”

Soori twitches in place, letting out a loud sigh that has Mai sure will be followed by another restless string of sobs. But Jungkook places his hand on her tummy, eyes still closed, gently rocking her as he lets out a soft coo, something so faint they can’t quite make up his words. But his daughter relaxes against his touch, falling back into a peaceful sleep.

Fear plagues him but Taehyung is sure of the words that fall past his lips next.

“They’ll be alright.”

~------------~

i hope you enjoyed! stream butter to mend those hearts if you’re hurting as much as me over this mess! if you liked this I would love to know and to chat all about it – or about whatever u want, i want army friends :) lots of kisses!!!! xxxxxx

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koorosie

3 years ago

Brown-eyed Baby | 01

a lost child at the mall. eyes from a different time.

pairing: single dad!jk x reader

genre: exes 2 (friends 2) lovers, smut, angst, fluff.

word count: 11.4k

masterlist

part ½ <previous | next>

warnings: feelings, handjob (it’s a lo fic what’d you expect), penetrative sex, switch!jk, switch!reader (but mostly slightly dom!jk and sub!reader((((would u believe????)))) uh, breeding kink… possessive/jealous (but mostly insecure) jk, feelings, abandoned koo :(, koo’s cute child.

author’s note: for the bts ghostie writers net challenge “dynamite dads.” my alloted trope/genre/member was “exes/old flames,” smut with jungkook. there’s gonna be a sequel.

The newly purchased box of sneakers lies heavily in the plastic bag that swings from your grasp. During yesterday’s surprise storm that you managed to find yourself in, your left foot had gotten suspiciously more wet than the other, and when you got home, you realized there was a big hole in the sole. How it got there and when, you have no idea.

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reblog to read exes to lovers Single Dad Au jungkook fic

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koorosie

9 months ago