Hyungie plaything {Jikook}

✧01: The Mischief of Morning And A Little Lonely Heart✧

"I may be an adult in age, but my brain's still stuck on snack time and bedtime stories."

✿_________✿

Jungkook stood before the mirror, daylight streaming through the tall windows of his opulent room, illuminating the sharp angles of his face. With all the grace of a seasoned performer, his long, veined fingers deftly adjusted the tie at his neck.

The sleek fabric glimmered under the light, complementing the dark suit that hugged his tall, athletic frame. He looked damn good, like he'd just stepped off the cover of a magazine, and probably broke a few hearts along the way.

A slow smirk crept onto his lips as he leaned in closer to the glass, whispering, "I'm coming, my love," as if he were a suave character in some rom-com.

But before Jungkook could savor the moment, a sudden commotion echoed from outside, disrupting his little love scene.

"What the hell?" He muttered, brows furrowing.

His gaze landed on a half-full cup of tea resting on the table like it was waiting for him to make a mess. He grabbed the cup and took a sip, because nothing says "I'm ready for the day" like a mouthful of piping hot tea, before casually sauntering to the window to inspect the chaos unfolding outside.

Just then, a shrill voice sliced through the morning air like a kid with a megaphone. "Hyungieeee!"

Jungkook almost sprayed his tea everywhere, his heart thudding in his chest. "This little brat," He muttered, half laughing, half groaning, as he returned to the table and set the cup down with a sharp thud, relieved his suit had escaped disaster.

After a hasty hand wash, he took one last look at his handsome reflection, just to make sure he still looked like a dashing prince, and headed out to face the madness.

The grand mansion buzzed with life, servants hustling and bustling like they were training for a marathon, all while security guards moved with a sense of purpose that would make a drill sergeant proud.

Just as Jungkook navigated through the organized chaos, he was intercepted by Hoseok, his ever-enthusiastic manager, who came barreling toward him, face flushed and eyes wide with urgency.

"Mr Jungkook... there's a situation... Jim..."

"Please don't tell me this is about the cat again. I'm not ready for another cat-astrophe this early," Jungkook groaned, flicking his hand through the air as if swatting away Hoseok's words like a bad sales pitch. Hoseok just stared at him, unimpressed.

With a resigned sigh, Jungkook stepped outside, the cool breeze wafting over him like a refreshing slap in the face. At the far end of the sprawling grounds, atop a raised platform, usually meant for fancy gatherings, stood Jimin, his pint-sized stepbrother. The sight of him almost made Jungkook lose his cool.

Jimin was dressed in a ridiculously oversized blue shirt that looked like it could double as a parachute, paired with shorts that gave the illusion he was perpetually waiting for a flood.

In one hand, he gripped an enormous stuffed bunny that looked like it belonged in a kindergarten playroom, while the other hand was busy shoving chocolate into his mouth like he was training for a sugar-eating competition.