#bts dad

[muniimyg]

𐙚₊˚⊹ BBYDADDY SERIES!⋆𐙚₊˚⊹

kimiverse msgs / blurbs

+

co-parents that fuck <3

« .𖥔 ݁ ˖ TRIVIA: LOVE // OT7 ⋆｡𖥔 »

genres: fluff, crack, smut & angst

note: only my permanent taglist is applicable for this series

๋࣭ ⭑bbydaddy!jk ๋࣭ ⭑

exes au ; *nsfw* | ongoing

(1) // (2) // (3) // (4) // (5) // (6) // (7) // (8) // (9) // (10) // (11) // (12) // (13) // (14) // (15) // (16) // (17) // (18) // (19) // (20) end

continuation ;

(21) // (22) // (23) // (24) // (25) // (26) // (27) // (28) // (29) // (30)

+ jk’s birthday

+ facetime call

+ goodnight kisses

+ future

+ new parents

... TBA

๋࣭ ⭑bbydaddy!yoongi ๋࣭ ⭑

accidental pregnancy au ; *nsfw* | ongoing

(1) // (2) // (3) // (4) // (5) // (6) // (7) // (8) // (9) // (10) // (11) // (12) // (13) // (14) // (15) // (16) // (17) // (18) // (19) // (20) end

[chimivx]

yellow. (6)

pairing: Idol!Yoongi x Female!Reader (and always ot7)

summary: It's finally happened, you're living your dream. You've landed the job of your wildest fantasies, doing it beside someone who means a hell of a lot to you. It's only been a few months, but it's been pretty easy to settle into this way of life- the constant on the go, the always working, the barely sleeping. Your relationship has been flourishing as well, you and Yoongi working together better than ever... It seems, until now.

words: 5.5k

warnings: none for this part, still 18+ for nsfw occasional themes, if i missed anything please let me know!

a/n: I didn't mean to get angsty... but... I did. Thank you for being here! (Also, want you all to know that with what they're doing in this part- I don't have exact dates/I can never find exact dates. So if some timing is off because I don't have the actual facts, I apologize. )

~ sometime in february, 2016 ~

“Put them in front of the camera, play the track, and let them go nuts,” you mumbled, chewing on your thumb nail while you studied a couple of shots the crew was monitoring. 

The man dressed in all black who had asked you what you wanted to do next wasn’t walking away to do what he was told. Instead, he eyed the folded piece of paper in the hand that was folded over your chest, and lowered his brows ever so slightly.

Shifting your gaze over to him, you frowned. “What?” The man met your eyes and shrugged.

“Just thought there would be more, that’s all,” he said. “Usually there’s more detail involved.” His voice tapered off, and the tone he used was equally hesitant. All day every single male on this set had been speaking to you as if you hadn’t a clue as to what you were doing.

Well, every single male excluding seven of them.

Tilting your head to the side, you cross both of your arms and sit in your hip, raising a brow at the man. “There’s no detail involved, get them into that swimming pool, put a camera on the ground, and let them- and I mean it! Let them go nuts.” 

From over his shoulder you spot some of the boys reviewing choreography while the others mess with the set. Sunny was on the sidelines, comb in hand, ready to jump in the moment someone needed a touch up. Her dark eyes were sharp, focused on the boy's details. Work mode on, you knew there wouldn’t be any getting through to her until after the shoot had wrapped.

Behind Taehyung, who was goofing off for a camera capturing behind the scenes footage, Yoongi lingered beside Jin, half listening to his friend while he watched you from across the set. Dressed in a bright orange shirt and ripped jeans, your silver haired boyfriend scrunched up his face and raised his fist, gesturing to the man who walked away from you.

Holding up a finger you widen your eyes and smile, telling him no with a single look. You could handle this yourself, you were a big girl. You’ve done this before, you’ve dealt with the men before, and you’ll have to endure it for the rest of your life. The curse of being a woman.

On the set of Run, the entire company was concerned where things were going, and where the concept was being taken, but you didn’t care. You didn’t let any of their opinions stop you from creating your art, even if you improvised most of it.

Sure, the company created the storyline. The company gave you guidelines and the basics of what to do and when to do it, but everything in between? Well, that was up to you, and you ran with it. 

Run was your baby, and it will be forever. It’s chaotic, it’s over the top, it compels emotion. The boys were acting, the boys were having fun, the boys were smiling and laughing- and to you, that’s a win. You’ve seen how their shoots go when it’s just the other director on set. They exhaust themselves faster and don’t have nearly as much fun between shots. Bringing you and Sunny onto the team was the best thing the company could’ve done for these boys.

Yoongi smiled, then he drug his eyes up and down your body. You were dressed in all black and he was having a field day. The leggings you wore clung to your curves just right, and the long sleeved shirt that hung loosely off your figure belonged to him. Showing up in it this morning he had smirked at you and asked you where you had gotten it, acting like he didn’t watch you pick it up off of his floor mere hours before you both had to be on set.

Heaving a sigh, you walked away from the screen that replayed the shot of the choreography and took your time getting over to him. Eyes were on your back, you could feel them watching. Yoongi waited patiently, his smile growing the closer you got. 

“What was his name, I’ll kick his ass,” he said with a smile once you were a few feet away from him. 

“No ass kicking,” you said. “I can handle them. Drop the fake smile, I know you’re in pain.” 

His smile didn’t fall, but it did falter. “I can handle it.”

The shoulder had been talked about twice since you heard the full story of what had gone down to keep him living in this everyday hell. The first time was shortly after you found out, when you caught him taking pain meds he swears he never has to take in a bathroom at the company between rehearsals. Brushing past it quickly because it seemed to get a rise out of him, you preferred if he didn’t get mad and would hopefully talk about it later.

He didn’t.

This was the second time it’s been brought up.

“I’m good,” he shrugged. Pointing at the piece of paper in your hand he found a way to change the subject, fast. “What’s this?”

Taking him in for another couple of seconds, your eyes letting him know you couldn’t believe he wasn’t taking his injury seriously, you unfold the paper that had scribbles upon scribbles written on it from late night cram sessions.

“Notes,” you said. The boys' names, and nicknames, were all over it along with random ideas that weasled their way into your brain at inconvenient times while you were away from your projects. This sheet of notebook paper was the ‘inconvenient thoughts about Fire’ paper. It had been folded so many times that it wasn’t as strong as it used to be, and some of the corners were torn because it was poorly handled most of the time.

You were an artist. The state of which your notes were in didn’t matter, as long as the finished product was perfect.

Yoongi took the sheet from you carefully and held it close to read your tiny, scribbled writing, his eyes squinting to pick up the faded pencil marks. “Holy shit, you’re thorough.”

Folding your arms over your chest you nodded. “I am.” Your tone struck him, making him look up at you with softened brows. 

From somewhere in the back your name was called, a member of the crew beckoning you back to look something over so that they could move on. Leaving Yoongi without a word, he watched you walk away, and flattened his lips. Folding up your notes gently, following the creases that were permanently wrinkled into the paper, he starts toward you to return it, but in turn is summoned to wardrobe by Sunny and another woman.

The boys trudge over, Taehyung already stripping out of his jacket, but Yoongi hesitates. The way you were observing the shots on the screen, gesturing toward the equipment, speaking to the men like you were the boss, it was captivating. He adored watching you work, he adored getting to watch you make your art. He was proud of you, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that he had pissed you off.

“These shots are going to flash back and forth between the ones we’re going to film tonight,” you held both of your hands up to the screen, flipping one back and forth to visualize what you were thinking. “It looks boring now because it’s just one solid shot, but that’s also why we were zooming in and out so often.” The man who was sitting beside the screen held an empty stare. Swallowing a groan, you smile. “We needed one basic full shot of the choreography, if you get rid of this, I get rid of you.”

Now that caught his attention. His eyes shot open wide as he offered you meaningless apologies, turning toward the screen to make sure he saved every shot. You weren’t sure if you had the power to fire him. It wasn’t that you wanted to fire him, nor did you want to act like a bitch, but there was no way your point was going to get across if you didn’t threaten him with something.

“We’re done here for now, boys let’s change!” Sunny’s voice flooded the set, catching your attention for a second, but you didn’t dare look away from the men working around you. You could see Yoongi lingered behind. Wanting to see what he was waiting for, you held yourself back from giving him what he wanted- your attention.

It boggled your mind that he didn’t want to discuss what happened to him. In some ways, you can see why he wouldn’t want to, but at the end of the day, who can hold onto something so horrific and not talk it out? Seeking help through the boys, you asked every single one of them if Yoongi had talked about it since he first told them, and all six of them said no. Jin was the only one who had heard more, but it wasn’t like Yoongi acted as if it was a big deal.

If he could keep this hidden from you, and act like there wasn’t anything wrong with keeping it hidden from you, you were worried he’d be able to keep other things from you. And now that you were finally feeling a little bit excited about life, you weren’t about to let him get away with shit.

“Back everything up, please,” you said to whichever crew member was listening, and followed the boys and Sunny into the building you were set to shoot in next.

In the tiniest room all seven boys were changing, and getting their hair fixed and their makeup touched up. Elbows were bumped and chairs were knocked into, but this room with tile for walls was still bigger than some dressing rooms the group had been shoved into on the road. 

Pulling the creaky door open with force, it was heavy as shit, you almost walked head first into Jungkook who was shirtless and adjusting his belt while the woman who worked with Sunny toyed with his hair.

Barging into the room, your simmering anger- if you could call it that- fueled your feet, and you collided right into the kids chest.

A muffled “Whoa!” came out of you both, and though your voices were hushed, they carried around the room that was full of low chatter from everyone else.

Stiffening your hands by your side, you didn’t want to think twice about what you had accidentally touched, you looked the boy up and down and laughed. “Sorry, Kook.”

That toothy grin reassured you that you had nothing to worry about. “Why’d you look so mad?”

“I’m not mad,” you breathed, giving your shoulders a shrug. 

Jungkook furrowed his brows. “Yeah, okay. What’s the matter?”

Looking over his shoulder you spy Yoongi checking himself out in a little square mirror, adjusting a hat that covered his hair. As he turned around to button the shirt he had slipped into, you figured he’d want your attention like he did outside, but he didn’t seem to notice you were there.

“You guys fighting or something?” Jungkook asked, sneaking a glance at your boyfriend.

Fighting wasn’t it, that wasn’t the word you’d use to describe what was happening, but you definitely were not on the best of terms at this exact second. Actually, for the past month or so things have been off. Part of you wondered if it was the two of you adjusting to a new life. Well, you were adjusting to a new life. Yoongi was adjusting to having a girlfriend.

Still, the way these weeks have been going by, melancholy and a little stale, aside from the combined hours you’d spend between your sheets, it was a total flip from the second half of last year.

You wouldn’t be lying if you admitted the fear you had in the start of all of this was haunting you.

Popstar bored with his latest conquest.

Rockstar getting sick and tired of the same old, same old.

Twenty two year old male got what he wanted out of a twenty two year old female and is pushing her away so he didn’t have to be the one to send her home after she literally uprooted her life to take her dream job, one he unfortunately is heavily involved with…

“You are not okay,” Jungkook's quiet voice broke you out of your thoughts. He had a shirt on now, his outfit was complete all the way down to the accessories. Meeting his gaze, he was worried. The cheesy grin and crinkly eyes were gone, replaced with concern and furrowed brows.

“I’m fine, it’s fine,” you choked out. “We’re fine, everything is fine.”

Jungkooks hardened glare refused to let up. “You’re an awful liar, Honey.”

“I could say the same about you,” your tone was laced with snarkiness. “Where’s Jimin?” Glancing about the room, you finally break into a giggle when you watch his expression go wild.

“What the hell are you talking about?” he sneered.

Popping your brows, you smiled. “Exactly.”

“No, seriously, what are you talking about?” Jungkook stepped closer to you, but you reached for the door behind you, pushing it open. “No, no, you’re not escaping, get back here!” With a laugh you fled from the makeshift dressing room and hurried out toward the empty swimming pool that was in the center of the giant warehouse.

Circling the edge of it, you came to halt and could not hold back the screech that came out of you when Jungkook grabbed you by the waist, almost knocking you into the concrete abyss that was only five feet deep. “Don’t run away from me when I’m talking to you, especially after you say something like that.” You could hear the grin on his lips.

Lifting you away from the pool while you laughed like crazy, he carried you to a quiet corner and put your feet back on the ground, turning you around to lecture you.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said for what felt like the umpteenth time. Jungkook groaned, tipping his head backward.

“Why did you bring up Jimin?” His big, doe eyes bore into yours, genuinely asking you. Quirking a brow you tilt your chin a bit to question him. “You know what I’m talking about, don’t make me say it.”

Gulping, you gave him a slight shrug. “Do I know what you’re talking about?” This was not where you thought you’d have this conversation, on set, surrounded by crew members, while the very boy you spoke of had wandered out of the dressing room with the others god knows how long after you ran away from them.

Yoongi included.

Jungkook's lips tipped down a bit. The sight made your heart twist. “I swore you knew… What I was talking about… What you were… talking about… God.” Scrunching up his face he gripped his forehead and groaned again.

“Jungkook,” you whispered, putting your hands over both of his wrists.

“Thought I wouldn’t have to say it to you, the words, because I don’t know how to say them, and if you already knew then it’d really help ‘cause I dunno what the hell to say-“

“Jungkook,” you said louder, cutting him off, though you’d never heard the boy ramble like this before. He dropped the hand from his head and scrambled for your hands, squeezing them as tight as he could. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you… panic.”

He took a deep breath, one that helped you relax some. “I can’t…” Pausing, he sucked down another breath and shook his head. “I can’t say it.”

“Okay,” you nodded, dragging your thumbs over his hands. “That’s okay, you don’t have to.” He swallowed hard, beginning to nod with you. “Can I… Can I ask you a question? Just to make sure that I do know what you know?” 

His brows met in the center of his forehead. “Um… Yeah,” he answered with a sigh. “Sure, ask me.” The way his shoulders rose made him appear like he was bracing for impact. 

This was going to be hard. Getting him to break out of whatever norms he was used to was going to be a challenge. You knew already, you have for a while. You didn’t have to ask him about it, or torture him anymore by talking about it longer than he wanted, but he needed your help. He had to talk about it, or he would be stuck in this place forever.

Much like somebody else.

“I’ll… take this slow. And careful,” you said.

“Thanks,” Jungkook sighed. “It’s my first time.” He truly was an eighteen year old boy. Cracking a laugh at his stupid joke, you squeezed your eyes shut and shook your head. He was thankfully wearing a smile when you looked up at him.

“When you see me with Yoongi, do you want that?” Your question sucked the humor out of the moment. His lips pulled together curiously. “That type of… relationship? With a girlfriend?” His lips were sealed now. “Kookie, it’s okay,” you smiled, shaking his hands so they’d swing by your side. “Nothing’s gonna change.”

You were once again reminded of the separate worlds you and these boys came from. You grew up in New York, and spent most of your life in the city. In Manhattan for that matter, literally where everybody no matter what version of queer you were came to celebrate themselves.

Jungkook parted his lips, hesitating big time before he whispered, “It’s terrifying.”

“I know,” you said. “And that’s okay, it’s going to be. But, I can tell you right now that I will still love you no matter what, and I know damn well those six idiots over there, fully clothed in an empty swimming pool,” he giggled, “They will still love you. You are their pride and joy. Do you know how easily you could get away with murder with those guys on your side?” A laugh is shared before quiet falls around the two of you.

The voices of the six idiots in the empty swimming pool echoed through the warehouse, their words getting muddled in the air.

“You don’t wanna say it,” you began, and Jungkook rapidly shook his head. “I know,” you started to smile. “But… can I?” His face twisted with discomfort, or disgust, or he was cringing… You couldn’t piece it together. “I won’t say the word, relax,” you said. “I just need confirmation, I don’t want to get this wrong.”

A nod was all you were going to get from him.

Lowering your voice to the point where you weren’t even sure he’d be able to hear you though he was standing five inches away from you, you whispered, “You like boys.” 

A sharp inhale ripped through his chest. His face remained stone cold as he jerked his chin up and stared at the ceiling for all of three seconds before scoping your surroundings. Letting him have his moment, you knew he’d come back to you when he was ready. And he did.

Another small, meek nod was all you were going to get from him. And it was enough.

“Kookie.” A grin was plastered onto your face. He attempted to smile as well, but he wore his nerves… everywhere. “You did it, you just told me. That’s huge.”

He gasped a breath and huffed a laugh. “Technically you told me.”

“Doesn’t matter,” you squeezed his hands, throwing them away to wrap your arms around his growing body. He was getting more muscular everyday. “I’m proud of you.”

His arms snaked around your shoulders. Placing his chin on top of your head, he took a deep breath, one that made you rise and fall with his chest. His heart was racing, you could feel it pounding between his ribs. 

“Thank you,” he whispered.

“Always here for you, Kook.”

“Honey!” Sunny’s voice shouted toward you, echoing against the roof, vibrating the walls. The sweet nickname she gifted you with when you were twelve had a way of sounding incredibly menacing when she forced it from her glossed lips with a bite.

Pulling away from Jungkook you looked toward her and the way she’s standing at the edge of the pool, gesturing into it.

“It’s like herding toddlers who just learned how to sprint,” she raised her brows. “They are all here, it’s now or never. The sun sets in three hours.”

“Let’s go,” Jungkook said, nudging you with his shoulder as he started toward the pool.

Following close behind him you watched as he jumped over the edge fearlessly and landed on his feet, rushing to Namjoons side. The leader threw an arm around the youngests shoulder and gave him a smile, one that Jungkook returned.

Bumping into Sunny, standing as close to her as possible, she eyed you curiously and asked, “Is he okay?”

“Yeah,” you said quietly. “He will be.”

Shifting your gaze over each boy to inspect what they were wearing and to ensure they were camera ready like Sunny declared, you find Yoongi looking up at you, your eyes meeting for the first time since you spoke outside. You couldn’t read him.

Hands shoved in the pockets of his jeans, he was clenching his jaw so tight his teeth could crack. It was hard to tell whether or not he was angry, or upset, but he seemed it. Everything about his energy was… off. Like the past few weeks.

If he was miffed at you for whatever reason he could conjure up, you were certain it wouldn’t be as good as yours. All you wanted to do was talk to him. At this point in your relationship, you should know a whole bunch about him, not be discussing your days for a mere twenty minutes after work just to have sex and either fall asleep or go home.

Gritting your teeth, you sent a reciprocated chilling glare back to him, as much as it hurt your heart.

“Okay! Let’s go,” you called out to bring everybody back into the shoot, breaking the stare when it became too much to handle. “Bring it boys, let’s have some fucking fun!”

There was about an hour spent around the pool, you and Sunny either sitting on the edge behind the cameras, or jumping in to fix something or adjust the details. Both you and Yoongi fought to not look at one another, and you wondered if anyone else was being suffocated by the air in the room.

When you approached Jungkook to shift him over, adjusting the spacing so that he wasn’t covering too much of Hoseok, you felt his eyes burning into you. Like you putting your hands on the teenager's shoulder made him want to burn the place down. You swear the earth rumbled.

You couldn’t help but feel a tad guilty. The two of you had spoken about Jungkook before, or Yoongi’s made jokes rather. He didn’t know what you knew, and now it was confirmed that Yoongi had nothing to worry about when it came to his friend. He just had no idea.

By the end of this style of shots, after watching the seven of them cruise through the choreography again and again, your eyes wandered to Yoongi when ‘cut’ was called. He rolled his left shoulder backward, frowning as he did. Folding your arms you joined the camera team behind the screens to monitor what they had captured, keeping your peripheral glued to your boyfriend who shimmied something out of his pocket.

He was coming toward you. He was looking directly at you, coming toward you. Turning your chin, nerves shot up your spine as you took him in. Not a single word was spoken. Looking into your eyes, he slipped something into one of your hands, paused for half of a second, then followed the boys out of the pool.

You waited until he stalked off to look at what he had given you. Opening your hand you found your folded up sheet of notes that you forgot you gave him. Shaking your head the slightest, you open it up to see if anything on it would spark your inspiration, and down in the corner, in the last available blank space, ‘I love you’ was written in his chicken scratch.

A lump lodged in your throat, one you attempted to swallow away. Folding the paper up quick, you glanced out to where he had walked away to, but he was gone.

The shoot wrapped up around two or three in the morning. No one was paying attention to the clock, everyone was having way too much fun. This video was carefully calculated chaos dipped in mischievous partying- The exact image BTS was aiming to articulate. And you did that.

After thanking the crew, thanking the staff, and thanking the boys, you ventured into the dressing room where seven exhausted bodies were still shouting at one another. It usually took them a good hour to wind down after something like this, especially if it were a show. Both you and Sunny knew that the second their heads hit the cushions in the car they’d be out.

Except Yoongi. Another thing you both shared, the inability to get good sleep. Unless you were beside one another.

Letting the heavy door shut behind you, the scene of the boys stumbling over their feet while they changed into their cozy clothes made you want to smile. Taehyung was already laid back in a chair fighting to keep his eyes open while Hoseok straddled his lap, dancing around to the latest trend to try to keep him awake. Jungkook was slipping into a hoodie, Namjoon was helping Jimin wipe off his makeup, and Jin was hovering over Yoongi, blocking him out of your view.

Sunny wasn’t here, she and her assistant stylist had cleaned up their things already to give the boys their space. The two were combing through the set now, making sure they didn’t leave anything behind all while cleaning up after the boys. There wasn’t much for you to collect aside from the piece of paper in your pocket.

You came in here for one more thing.

As the shoot went on it seemed Yoongi loosened up, the two of you shared the occasional laugh when something would happen, but other than that you didn’t speak. By the end of it all your heart was positively broken, watching him walk away from you with the boys without a second glance back. 

Not many of your past relationships made it past this point. Once you hit the first bump in the road it was split city. None of them had been as invigorating or exciting as this one has. You used to be able to see this coming, the relationship's demise hovering toward you like a cloud in the sky, letting you know it was all about to go to hell.

You didn’t want this one to go to hell.

You wanted this one to work out.

You weren’t sure what your future looked like quite yet, but you knew you wanted to figure it out with Yoongi. When you were with him, he knew parts of you you weren’t even sure you knew yourself. He could see you, he could hear you, just as you could see and hear him. Which is why this doubt started hanging over you in the first place.

Brushing past each of the boys who hit you with a generous thank you in some way or another, you only had a small smile to offer them. By the time you shuffled toward the back of the room and reached Yoongi and Jin, the eldest of the two took one look at you and scurried away.

“Nice,” you said quietly, watching Jin as he glanced about the room, looking for something, seeming to ask the other boys where to find it. “Was I a bitch today? Or…” Yoongi, who had his arms crossed over his chest where he sat, sighed heavily and shook his head, screwing his eyes shut.

“No,” he mumbled. Holding your hands behind your back you looked down at him and thinned out your lips, hoping he’d say more. Beneath your gaze he could feel it, the need for him to say more, to talk about it, to talk about something. “Honey, I… Listen…”

“I’m listening,” you whispered, barely moving. Yoongi threw his arms to the side.

“Why am I in trouble here?” His eyebrows furrowed over his eyes, just visible under his messy silver hair. The stiff tone of his voice sent a chill over your skin, and signaled to the boys that it was time to leave the room.

“Never said you were in trouble,” you said. The door slammed shut, echoing against the tiled walls. Jungkook was the last to leave, sending a longing glance your way, but you missed it.

“Then why act like I did something wrong,” Yoongi said, sitting forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “All day you’ve been treating me like I’ve done something to you, and I cannot for the life of me figure out what it is.”

After a deep breath you mumbled, “Yoongi,” but he cut you straight off.

“I’m so happy that you have this job. I’m so happy you are doing what you love to do, and you’re creating, and you’re making the art that you want to make. You’re changing the game for us, for the industry… For me. You’re breaking boundaries, you’re taking it a step too far, and it’s so damn exciting, Honey, it really is.” He paused to look up at you. His wide, pleading eyes lost in more ways than one. “I feel like I take the fun out of it for you.”

You didn’t miss the way his voice cracked, the sound hitting you straight in the heart. “D, please, don’t do that,” you whispered, taking a step closer to him. He drug his hands over his face.

“How can I not?” he shrugged. “You have more fun with Jungkook, you don’t speak to me, and when you do I somehow turn it all to shit.”

“D, what the hell are you talking about?” Taking to his side, you crouched beside him and rested your arms across his lap. He couldn’t look at you, his focus was elsewhere. “You do not turn it all to shit.”

The way he looked at you pained you like a slap to the face. “Don’t try to make me feel better when I know you’re pissed at me.” Narrowing your eyes, the only thing you can do is shake your head. “I know everything you want me to do. And I won’t do it.”

“You can do it, you just have to-”

“No,” he was firm. “I won’t do it. I don’t want to.”

Standing to your feet you tucked your arms behind you like they once were. His words were confirmation enough. If he wasn’t going to speak, if he wasn’t going to communicate… If he wanted to just brush over everything as if it were nothing, and continue living in ignorant bliss, acting like everything was fine… It was over.

What once was bliss and ecstatic euphoria had hit a dead end. This gorgeous face and beautiful mind that had shown you in many ways what it was like to live, to live for yourself, was giving this up.

Granted it’d only been a few months, and you’re certain you both said ‘I love you’ way too soon, but it was authentic, it was real, it was you. It was Yoongi. From the start you’ve moved way too quick, you’ve been sprinting since the day you met. It was a whirlwind of dramatic excitement, and it was everything you had ever wanted, everything you ever wished for.

But, maybe it wasn’t meant to be. Maybe living in fast forward was what pushed this over the edge. Jumping headfirst into a relationship with a complete stranger from an entire different world, falling in love with them in mere weeks, moving across the globe, running from a life you used to know…

It wasn’t meant to be.

And that thought alone nauseated you.

You wanted him to be your forever.

Walking toward the door without looking back, you did your best to ignore the fact that he didn’t even try to stop you. He let you walk away.

He let the relationship crumble to pieces right in front of him, and he didn’t do a thing to save it.

VEGAS TAGS! <3

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[kookiestarlight]

Lines of fate | jjk (masterlist)

➵ pairing: tattooist!jungkook x f. reader

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

➵ rating: 18+

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

➵ general warnings: cursing, graphic depictions of violence and death, gore (tried to not make it too extreme), zombies, virus, knife and gun use, explicit sexual content, mentions of alcohol consumption, substance abuse, mentions of depression and mental health struggles, heavy angst and minor character deaths...more individual warnings will be included per chapter!

➵ taglist: comment or send me an ask to be added to the series taglist!! ♡ (CLOSED)

Coming soon!!

[hairmetal666]

It's Wayne that goes with him when he buys the truck. He offers to go with him. Uses one of his few days off to do it.

On the way there, it strikes Steve that his own father would never do this with him. The man hadn't even bought the Beemer himself, just sent an assistant to take care of it. And here Wayne is, driving them to a used car dealership, humming along to some old country-western song on the radio.

It takes three dealerships for them to find it, but Wayne is patient, stoic, takes careful note of the cars that catch Steve's interest. He asks the salesman if he can pop the hood, peers at the engine, kicks the tires. He asks questions Steve would never think of, about adjustments to the odometer, history of repairs, if it was in any accidents.

Steve never considered wanting a truck, doesn't think it's his style. But he's walking the lot at the third dealership, and he sees it. It's a Chevy, blue and white, a few years old. It's in good condition, but was obviously used for work.

He walks towards it.

"You like this one?" Wayne asks. If he's surprised, he doesn't show it.

"Yeah, it's--yeah," Steve nods.

Wayne does his checks, asks his questions, gives a nod of approval.

It's the first car he takes on a test drive.

He barely has it on the road before he knows it's the one. It surprises him. He always thought he was his true self in the BMW, but now--the engine has a throaty grumble to it, can feel it rumbling through his foot on the pedal, and it's--it's--perfect.

"This it?" Wayne asks as they pull back into the lot.

"Yeah, yes. It's. Yeah."

"Well, let's get to hagglin."

Wayne is, of course, an expert haggler. By the end of it, he's got a couple thousand dollars knocked off the asking price, Steve more than within budget.

They drive back to Wayne's little house on the outskirts of Hawkins, the one the government gave him, the sun just disappearing behind the horizon.

Eddie stands on the small porch, wide smile on his face.

"Wow, Wayne," he says. He wraps an arm around his uncle's shoulders. "You really did a number on him."

"It's a solid vehicle, Ed."

"Never took you for a truck man, Harrington," Eddie teases.

"Can't you see how gorgeous she is?"

Eddie raises an eyebrow, his smile not faltering. "Wow, it's true love then."

"Looks like it. Wanna come for a ride?"

There's only a second where Eddie hesitates, but then he's running inside to grab shoes, tripping on his way to the truck.

---

It happened like this:

Eddie Munson died in the Upside Down in 1986.

He's reanimated by Vecna for the final battle, a puppet to do his master's bidding.

When they win, when Vecna is dead in a pile of dessicated vines, they can't find Eddie. Scour the Upside Down for him and come up empty. They have to assume he's dead, like everything else there, kept alive only by Vecna's power. None of them want to leave without him, but the world is destabilized, they can't stay, El has to close the gates.

That night, Steve pulls the battle vest from under his bed, sobs into the blood-soaked denim, the grief from the loss just as fresh as March of '86.

He and the kids, they go visit Wayne. It becomes a regular thing.

Two weeks after the end of Vecna, Wayne calls him. He's panicked, near hysterical, nothing like the man Steve's come to know.

He goes, fast as he can, to Wayne's house. All the lights are off, the front door ajar, and he runs, clattering into the living room.

Wayne is in the recliner, face pale and strained, and on the couch--on the couch--

Eddie Munson.

His hair's lank, his skin sallow, the light in his eyes dim, but it's him. Unquestionably.

Steve does the only thing he can think of, calls Hopper. He shows up a little while later with El and Will.

"I called Owens," Hopper says.

"Why would you do that?" Steve is angry.

"Look, kid, I get it. But none of us are equipped to deal with this."

He's right, so they wait.

It doesn't take the doctor, El, and Will long to figure that Eddie is Eddie, even though his heart beats a little slow and his skin's always cold and his blood is slightly the wrong color. He's still at least 75% human, and that's enough.

Only those six people know. It's dangerous to tell anyone else when the world still thinks Eddie Munson is a serial murderer. Owens asks for time to clear his name, and they have no choice but to agree.

After two days, Steve thinks he should give Eddie and Wayne space, but as he rises to go, Eddie's hand grips his wrist. "Stay?" He asks. Steve doesn't leave.

It's hard, keeping the secret from the rest of the kids, Robin. He wants to tell her, more than anything. About how they share a bed most nights, how he's memorizing the shape of Eddie's body in a way he shouldn't, how the gentle desire turns to profound longing--but Eddie's safety is the most important thing, so Steve keeps it to himself.

---

They go out in Steve's truck almost every night, always on backroads. It's the only way Eddie can leave the house.

It's Steve's favorite thing, the only time Eddie seems truly happy. They roll the windows down, turn the music up, and whip around deserted farm roads. Sometimes, Eddie will stick his head out the window, shout out into the night.

Steve is in love with him.

He has no idea if Eddie feels the same, figures it doesn't matter. He'll harbor this flame for the rest of his life without complaint because Eddie is alive.

He thinks he's done a good job at hiding his feelings, thinks he's able to avert his gaze, hide his blush, when Eddie comes out of his room in only his boxers, thinks Eddie hasn't noticed how Steve's eyes linger when they share joints lying in the bed of the truck.

Except tonight--tonight--they're driving back home, and Eddie, he's been quiet, distant, fidgety, and now he reaches out to turn down the radio, which has Steve's stomach in a knot.

"You--Steve, you've been so great. To me and Wayne, and--you're family, you know? To us, you're--but--"

And Steve thinks this is it, that Eddie noticed, that he's being let down easy, and he wants to throw up, cry, but Eddie's still talking.

"You have a life to live, right? You're--you're 23 and you're not stuck here like me, and I know Robin is ready to go and the kids are--they're going to college soon, and you shouldn't stay here for me, I'm--"

"What?" Steve says.

"What?" Eddie echoes.

"I don't want to leave," Steve says.

"But--"

"Where you are is where I want to be."

"I'm in love with you," Eddie says. Cover his face with his hands.

Steve pulls the truck to the shoulder. His hands are shaking.

"You love me?"

"I'm sorry." His apology is muffled. "I didn't mean--I know this fucks up--"

"Eddie." He says, soft. "Look at me?"

One deep brown eye peers up at him. "Eddie, I--I'm hopelessly in love with you."

Both eyes now, mouth a bright curve. "You mean it, Harrington?"

"Fuck, can't get enough of you, Munson."

"You know, if I thought for a second anything like was possible, I would've--fuck, I would've made a move ages ago. I would've--"

"Shut-up," he whispers against Eddie's mouth. "Kiss me."

---

And later, Robin will ask if he has someone, and he'll say yes, and she'll ask, soft, "is it him?" and he'll nod, and they'll both cry.

Later, a news report, Eddie Munson's body was recovered from the bottom of Sattler Quarry, bearing the same wounds as Vecna's other victims.

Later, Chief Powell will hold a press conference, say they're looking for a man named Henry Creel, wanted on suspicion of killing his mother and sister and the aggravated assault of his father with an MO that matches the 1986 killing spree.

Later, Steve will shave Eddie's head, Eddie crying softly as the hair tumbles to the bathroom floor. Steve will kiss the tears away, one by one, say, "I know it's hard to let go. But we'll move away, to a place where people say 'you look like that guy, that Eddie Munson,' and you'll say, 'I get that a lot,' and your hair will grow back, if you want it to."

Later, they'll invite everyone to Wayne's , everyone except Dustin, busy in Boston with an internship, and Eddie will be there to welcome them.

Later, he and Eddie will take the truck, drive up to Boston. And Eddie, he'll spy Dustin first, walks up to him and says, "Pretty metal tattoos, little dude," and they'll all cry until Dustin stops to yell at them for keeping the secret.

Later, Steve and Eddie will leave MIT--Dustin screeching that they have to call him every night promptly at 8pm still ringing in their ears-- in search of their future.

[justarkive]

THE JEONS | 01

01: Baby ?

summary: a collection of chaotic family drabbles. thats it.

contents: family!au, non!idol jungkook, girl!dad jk, fluff, angst, sensitive topics sometimes!

chapter contents: literally just family fluff. jungkook gets smacked by his baby, its just super cute HAHA

a/n: i wanted to start a fun little series of little drabbles cause like girl dad jungkook?!!!! hello!!! and these sre rlly fun to make anyway so enjoy, lmk if i should make more and if anyone likes this idea as much as i do haha (i will.)

masterlist , series masterlist

The room is bathed in the soft glow of the bedside lamp, the air still, quiet—except for the occasional rustle of sheets as Jungkook shifts beside you, his arms wrapped protectively around the tiniest little human you’ve ever seen.

Hana is barely a few days old, her whole body small enough to fit perfectly against Jungkook’s chest. The sight of it is almost too much—his broad frame, his strong hands, the sheer size of him compared to her fragile little form. And yet, he holds her with the gentlest touch, like she’s made of something more delicate than glass, something holy.

“She’s so tiny,” Jungkook whispers, voice tinged with something awed, something disbelieving. His fingers, tattooed and calloused, ghost over the curve of her back, pressing just lightly enough to feel the rise and fall of her breath. “How is she this tiny, baby?”

You smile, propping yourself up on one elbow to watch them. “She’s a newborn, Jungkook.”

“I know, but—” He exhales, eyes never leaving her face. “She’s ours.”

She stirs then, her little mouth twitching, face scrunching up in the way it does when she’s on the verge of waking. Jungkook stills, watching intently as her lashes flutter.

“Think she’s waking up,” you whisper.

Jungkook grins, leaning down to press a feather-light kiss to her forehead. Then another. Then one more, because he can’t help himself.

And then—

Smack!

With all the strength her tiny newborn body can muster, Hana’s arm flails up, her small hand landing right against Jungkook’s cheek with an audible little slap.

Your breath catches. You stare at her. You stare at him.

Jungkook freezes, eyes wide, completely stunned as if his own daughter has just betrayed him. “Did she just—”

Before he can finish his sentence, a sharp, high-pitched wail erupts from her, shaking her whole body like the force of her emotions is just too much for her little frame.

Jungkook’s jaw drops. “Oh my god.”

You burst out laughing, hand flying up to cover your mouth, but you can’t stop the way your shoulders shake. “Jungkook—”

“She smacked me!” he hisses, like he can’t even believe it. “And then cried about it!”

“She just woke up.” You can barely get the words out between giggles.

Hana’s wail tapers off just as quickly as it started, and as if nothing happened, she lets out a soft, contented sigh and nuzzles right into Jungkook’s chest, her tiny limbs going slack.

Jungkook looks down at her, completely dumbfounded. “What—”

“She put herself back to sleep,” you laugh, wiping a tear from the corner of your eye.

“After assaulting me.”

“You probably startled her!”

Jungkook scoffs, shifting just slightly, careful not to wake her again. His hands find their place, one cupping the back of her head, the other resting on her waist to keep her from rolling. Her tiny legs sprawl out haphazardly, the way newborns do when they don’t quite have control over their bodies yet.

You watch him for a moment, his dark eyes still wide in disbelief, his lips pursed like he’s going to hold this against her forever.

Then, so softly, he exhales. And just like that, the shock fades, replaced by something much deeper, much softer.

His fingers trace slow, soothing circles over Hana’s back, his voice dropping to a whisper. “She’s lucky she’s cute.”

You grin, leaning over to press a kiss to his temple. “You’re lucky she’s cute.”

Jungkook huffs, but his smile betrays him. He tugs you closer with one arm, his other still securing Hana against him. “Guess I am.”

And though the bassinet is right there, just a few feet away, neither of you move.

Not yet.

[buckleyflower]

cutest ever dog dad oliver stark

[iarchmybaculaa]

Pairing: Ex! Jungkook x reader

Rating: 18+ (Please be mindful of what you consume)

Warnings: Jungkook is subjectively a little toxic, Mentions of an ongoing divorce, possessive! Jungkook, Girl Dad! Jungkook, unprotected sex (don't do that irl), oral sex (f receiving), Slight brat reader, Jeon Jungkook is a menace, reader is implied to be black

Word count: 5.2 k (I think)

🎧: Woo- Rihanna

For: @hobicakess and Paige💗

Jungkook is good at a lot of things

Hes a fantastic singer. He dances very well (even if he likes to fein shyness at parties). Jungkook can cook, he can multitask seamlessly and (almost) effortlessly, and he can put Jinhae to sleep in a matter of minutes… It would be much easier to list the things that Jungkook isn't good at.

Jungkook isn't very good at sharing.

He doesn't like sharing food, clothes or people.

You think it may be his biggest if not only flaw.

Jungkook considers the people in his life his. He doesn't expect them to have the same importance in someone else's life, as they do in his. And he doesn't expect them to think of other people the way they do of him, either.

You don't know if it's because he fears that he'll be replaced, or because he was raised as an only child. But whatever it was, Jungkook let it consume him. Holistically.

You remember how he had reacted when Yoongi- his mentor,had taken on a new intern. Jungkook and Yoongi had attended the same highschool within a few years of each other; and had met again when Yoongi was a TA at SNU. Yoongi had taken Jungkook under his wing, as less of a student, and more like a little brother; and their bond lasted way beyond college. Yoongi was so proud of Jungkook that he was practically All he spoke about. Jungkook had gotten used to things being that way.

Then one day, all of a sudden, Yoongi was no longer “Jungkook, Jungkook, Jungkook”; he was all “Jimin, Jimin, Jimin” much to the Younger's chagrin.

To his credit, Jungkook was nothing but nice to Jimin during the time he worked for Yoongi. He bought him coffee once in a while and even invited him out for drinks whenever the opportunity arose. Jimin was cool. Jungkook would even go as far as to say that Jimin was his friend. Jungkook barely knew the guy! He had nothing against him.

It was Yoongi he was pissed at.

Yoongi was the one who owed Jungkook his loyalty. Yoongi was the one who had nursed Jungkook through his first hangover, and held him when he cried about failing a class. Yoongi was there when Jungkook got his first, off campus apartment. Yoongi was Jungkook 's Yoongi.

At first, Yoongi didn't understand it. It made no sense that Jungkook seemed so fond of Jimin, yet he soured whenever the latter's name was mentioned. It gave him whiplash. It went on for a solid month and a half of Jungkook's scowls and petulant pouts for Yoongi to finally realize that something was deeply wrong, and that he needed to get to the bottom of it.

It took 2 bottles of soju and 3 glasses of whiskey for Jungkook to crack. His reasoning was so funny that Yoongi almost didn't feel bad for laughing at him. All it took to pacify Jungkook was for Yoongi to give him a hug, followed by a quick

“you'll always be hyung's favourite, Kook-ah.” as he ruffled his hair.

Jungkook was only 22 when that had happened. And he'd like to believe he's grown a lot since then.

He's advanced enough in his career that he's not Mr. Bang's payroll anymore, but rather pays him. Jungkook has grown in a literal sense too, having had a growth spurt one random day after he turned 23 (there was no containing him once he realized that he was 6 feet tall) .

Jungkook has (helped) create life; your daughter Jinhae. It's the thing he's proudest of, second only to marrying you.

But Jungkook is only human.

So it's only natural that he feels an itch rise on the back of his neck everytime he picks Jinhae up from your apartment, and all she can talk about is your new boyfriend.

He got so…irritated the more Jinhae babbled on about “Woo- Woo” that he felt a little silly. But who could blame him? He would be holding Jinhae 's hand as they walked through the park for their daddy daughter time, and every other sentence would be about this ‘’Woo Woo”.

Seokjin had once joked that she had switched from being 'Daddy's girl' to 'Woo-Woo’s girl' , and Jungkook 's body took a screenshot. He shot Jin a look so vile, that the older stayed quiet for the rest of the day.

Jungkook really had tried to ignore it as best as possible. And he (thought) he was doing fairly well until that evening, when Jinhae had let it slip that:

‘’Mama kissed Woo-Woo today.”

He had just picked her up from her taekwondo class, and was about to pull out of the parking lot when Jinhae gave him the oh so lovely news.

Jungkook isn't a monster, he thinks he's let this little charade go on for much longer than was respectable. He wasn't going to let that slide.

He took a sharp left and sped down the highway. If he wasn't so caught up in his head, he would've heard Jinhae 's excited scream of:

“YAY! we're going to Uncle Yoonie's house’

You had just finished taking a long, warm bath. Your feet had been aching, and your back felt worse than it did before you had gotten your epidural. You needed a break; desperately.

The silence in the apartment was a welcome change.

You loved Jinhae with all your heart, but children were tiring to deal with alone. Children could be incredibly difficult, just for the fun of it. Especially spoilt, almost-five year olds who are used to their daddy obeying their every beck and call.

God forbid you didn't do “ the voice” right, after reading “The little Prince” five times in a row! suddenly you were public enemy number one.

At least you could bask in the fact that Jinhae never threw (noisy) tantrums or threw things, but you felt that she had quadruple the attitude your hus- ex, accused you of having.

But tonight, the only attitude you have to worry about dealing with, was from Kim when you researched the earliest seasons of Keeping up with the Kardashians. What can you say? There's truly nothing funnier to you than upper class white women trying to be relatable. To this dat, their target audience was a mystery to you. You can't think of a single person whose biggest problem was how many times their name got googled in a day. You find it hard to take anything they ‘’go through' seriously, because if we're being honest, people really are dying Kim!

You walk out of the bathroom wrapped in a soft white robe.

You reach for the the lilac, silk pajama set laid out on your bed. You had bought it from an online lingerie store, after a few glasses of wine a few weeks ago. You had been so…bored that you did the most exciting thing your numb brain could come up with in that moment.

You scoff at your past self. It was more cute than anything, not nearly as scandalous as some of the items you have hidden in the back of your closest. But you're not complaining.

The shorts are a bit shorter than you expected, but the silk is soft a high quality, and the lace that lines the top isn't itchy at all. You untwist your bun, and your braids cascade down your shoulders. You grab the bottle of black castor oil from your dresser, and run the nozzle along the parts. You sigh as you reach up to massage your scalp.

It's in little moments like these that you miss Jungkook the most. You hate to admit, but you used to be just as spoilt as Jinhae. Jungkook used to pamper you in every way possible. He would oil your scalp for you, order your hair products months in advance so that you'd never run out, and give you massages whenever your shoulders stood too rigid.

But you didn't have Jungkook anymore. You suck your teeth in annoyance at yourself for thinking about him so much.

You had just finished applying your vitamin c serum to your face, when you heard an incessant pounding on your door. You pause your music just as Kali Uchis asks if she can get a kiss. You're confused as to why someone is knocking on your door, when you have a very obvious doorbell attached to the frame. It's even stranger given what time it is.

You slip your feet into your cow print night slippers, as you step off the plush rug that lay on the floor in front of your vanity; and unto the floor.

The slippers slap against the floor as you walk towards the living room, and to whoever the hell wouldn't stop pounding on your door at 9pm on a Friday.

You throw the door open, ready to demand an explanation when you stop dead in your tracks.

To say you're surprised at who is standing at your door would be an understatement. You're not sure who you were expecting to see, but it certainly wasn't Jungkook. You're even more surprised to see him without Jinhae in tow.

You don't think that you've been alone with Jungkook for more than a few minutes at a time since the divorce; and even so, Jinhae has always been just a few feet away.

You feel worry start to settle in your stomach.

“Where's JJ? Is she okay?” You ask, praying that what came out of his mouth next isn't bad news.

He chuckes. It's a sound that comes from deep inside his chest and reverberates across the empty hallway. It's an empty laugh, with no humour behind it. It makes a chill run up and down your spine.

“Jinie is fine. She's with Yoongi; and she's the last of your worries right now” he says.

For once, Jungkook hasn't cracked a single smile the entire time he's been in your presence. It's obvious that he's mad, but you're not sure at what. You're not sure that you vare.

He isn't wearing a suit right now, and you can't recall the last time you'd seen him in anything but.

Jungkook worked extraordinarily long hours. You knew that working late and being burnt out would be a part of his life, especially the more his business grew, but it hadn't phased you at the time. There was nothing to be phased about.

At the time, Jungkook always put you first. And when Jinhae was born, he did the same thing. There was never a time where he had left you to fend for yourself with a newborn. He had been there through it all. From colic, to 3 am feedings to explosive diaper changes. He had never let you feel alone as a parent, or in your marriage.

Until around 8 months ago that is.

8 months ago, you feel like Jungkook had just stopped trying.

You know for a fact that Jungkook is terrified of being poor. It's why he always has another merger to make with one of his three companies, and dips his toes into every industry imaginable. His influence spanned over tech, real estate and even clothing. You think Jungkook's fear is understandable, you don't think it's fair. It was teetering on the edge of paranoia and greed.

He was trying so bad to make sure that he could take care of his family, that he wasnt.

He would get home from work after Jinhae went to bed, and left before she got ready for school. You had spent one too many nights falling asleep on the couch waiting for him to come home; only to wake up in your bed the next morning with a handwritten note on your bathroom mirror. They were sweet and all..but not much more.

As much as you appreciated the affirmations, his words meant nothing when there was no action behind them. Promises to come home home early the, family outings that never happened… You felt like you were a kid whose love was expected to be bought with money, and placated with empty commitments all over again. You could count on a bouquet of roses being delivered at your door every morning, more than you could count on your own husband being there.

You hated it.

You were starting to hate him.

It had gotten to a point where Jungkook had just given his secretary reign over his personal phone. You almost lost your mind when you had called him to ask what he wanted for dinner once, and she answered and told you that he was busy.

You could hear Jungkook 's laughter in the background, and the noise was not a professional setting. In fact, it sounded a lot more intimate and cozy. Like a restaurant or small bar. You felt sick to your stomach. You couldn't even get the chance to talk to Jungkook about it, because you barely saw him.

The look on his face when you served him the divorce papers in person at his office was borderline comical. His eyes had widened so far out of their sockets, that you thought the expression was causing him physical pain. You had said nothing. You simply handed him the papers and stayed long enough for him to read the heading. He clearly wanted to communicate through words on paper, so who were you to not oblige him with some?

As far as you know, Jungkook had never signed the papers, but he did follow all the other conditions you had outlined in your petition for separation.

He got an apartment for you and Jinhae in a building he didn't own, and was never late for any pickups or dropoffs, save for once when he had the flu.

A part of you had forgotten how young Jungkook was.

The suits he wore aged him plenty. Not in an old, haggard way, but in a way that made him appear more refined and serious than he actually was. His hair was always cut short and clicked away from his face. The collars of his shirts were always ironed to sharpness. Hell, he even wore sensible shoes.

If you hadn't seen every inch of Jungkook 's body before, and gone to college with him…You would have pegged him for an uptight dogooder. You're sure it helped him get taken seriously in the corporate world, but overtime, it was as if Jungkook had forgotten his roots. As if he had morphed into a no nonsense, mormon-esque version of himself.

But the Jungkook standing before you now, is the Jungkook you know and lov- respected. Jungkook who proudly wore his colorful sleeve of tattoos,silver hoops through his lips and a stud in his nose. The Jungkook who liked to wear cargo pants and oversized shirts with stomper boots he could barely walk straight in.

You knew he had showered before he had come over, because his hair was still curly. He hadn't blow-dried it. His hair is much longer than it was when you had last saw him. It fell past his eyes now. He had started growing it out sgain because Jinhae told him she wanted to. At least, that's what he had told you.

What had really happened was that Jinhae had been asking a lot of questions about “ when appa wasn't so old” one Saturday when they had gone out for ice cream.

“Appa, Mommy says your hair used to be w-eally long and pwetty. Can it come back? Mommy misses it.”

Jungkook hadn't cut his hair again since.

“Aren't you going to invite me in?” He asks, one eyebrow raised at you.

You fold your arms across your chest.

“I'm not sure why I should. Besides, I don't think that this is a good time.”

“Oh? Why's that? You lip expecting someone else,princess?’ He takes in your attire from head to toe. His eyes linger for a little too long in your chest. His voice goes deeper as he struggles to finish his last question.

You don't answer, and it makes his eye twitch.

It's so ridiculous, yet so on brand of him to create a hypothetical scenario in his head and get all eaten up about it. He takes a deep breath.

He doesn't want to blow his fuse. Not here, Not yet.

“ I need to talk to you. Inside. Please.” He asks, but it's not really a request.

You roll your eyes and turn your back to him as you walk away.

He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth as he watches your ass jiggle in the tiny shorts. He enters behind you, and the door closes softly with a click.

You walk over to the fridge and grab the unfinished can of Arizona Iced tea, and a glass from the cupboard. You were looking forward to having a glass of wine tonight, but if you were going to talk to Jungkook… you needed to be stone cold sober.

“You want anything?” You ask, as you pour the content into the glass. “ I think I have some b-”

“What I want is answers.” He says simply, leaning in the arched entryway.

You look at him with confusion written all over your face, before your pettiness takes over.

“ Oh yeah? Well I wanted signed divorce papers, and yet here we are.”

You take a swig from your cup and let the sweetness of the drink coat your tongue.

You see Jungkook release a breath so deep that his entire body shakes.

“ Who are you kissing in front of my kid?”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” he says with his arms crossed against his chest. “Who are you kissing in front of my kid?”

You're getting irritated now, because for one, what the hell is he talking about, and two…Who was Jungkook to talk to you like that?

“Jungkook. First of all, she's our kid. And secondly, I have no idea what the hell you're talking about. And even if I did… I wouldn't tell you jack shit. What or who I do is none of your business.”

Jungkook pushes himself off the threshold and starts walking towards you. His steps are slow and strong. His strides are long,and he has your back pressed into the counter in a matter of seconds.

You haven't been so close to Jungkook in so long, that everything about him overwhelms you in the best way possible. He smells so, so good. He smells like sandalwood and warm vanilla. He smells like home. His proximity to you is dizzying, and you can only pray that you'll keep it together.

He puts his arm on one side of you, leaving your left completely open. If you wanted to get away from him, you could. You stayed in place. It tells him everything he needs to know.

“Have you completely lost your fucking mind Y/N?” He questions. He reaches for your left hand and your heart sinks down to your ass. The diamond of your wedding ring glitters under the lights hanging from the the ceiling. The princess cut stone is practically mocking you.

“What do you think I gave you this ring for huh? Fun? Fucking decoration?” He jests, “You know, for someone who never shuts her big mouth up about divorce, you sure keep this on don't you baby?”

You don't deny it. There's no point in doing so. You know that if you do, he'll lift the ring upwards. And you know that when he does, he'll find the unmistakable circle of a tan line wrapping around your ring finger.

He strokes his thumb against your cheek, and you almost preen at his touch. “Who's ‘Woo- Woo’ baby?”

“None of your business.” You bite out.

“When are you gonna get it through your thick skull, that you are my business?!”

He runs his hand through his long hair, and you can see his face so much better. He's as beautiful as you remember and he's right in front of you.

You don't know who leaned in first, but you do know how soft lips feel as they press against yours. You fell the metal of his lip piercings touch the roof of your mouth as you suck his lip into you mouth.

He puts his hand under your ass, and your legs wrap around him on instinct. He lifts you and bring you over to the cool marble of the kitchen island.

His hand tugs on the hem of your blouse, and you pull away from him.

“Kook, we can't.” You whine as you pull away.

Jungkook uses his thumb to wipe some of the spit from the corner of your mouth, and fixes your shirt so your boob is no longer at risk of spilling out.

“Okay baby, we'll stop and we can talk over dinner. Do you want me to make something or do you want to get takeout?” He asked as he pulls away from you.

He doesn't get very far, because you wrap your legs around him, and pull you back to him.

“Wait- I didn't really mean that.” You whisper. Jungkook has a sneaking suspicion that you weren't just talking about telling him no.

“You want me baby?”

You nod your head yes, too embarrassed to open your mouth lest your voice shake.

He cradles your face, and tilts it upwards so you have no choice but to look him in the eyes.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.” You answer affirmatively, reaching forwards to capture his lips again.

Youre not even thinking about the Pandora's box that you might be opening; and quite frankly? You don't care.

You're acutely aware that you wont be able to blame your decision on being drunk or tipsy. The only thing driving you was a burning need to have Jungkook deep inside you (where he belonged).

He litters kisses along your neck as he slides his hand down your shorts. Your hips buck forward on instinct, and you shudder as you feel his fingers ghost your clit.

“Why are you naked under here?” He growls out. grip tightening around you waist. “I'm starting to think that you were expecting someone tonight.” he muses.

He spreads your folds with two fingers, reveling in the way your arousal leaks out of you and unto his fingers.

“ Is that why you're so eager, baby? Hm? Is that why you're so wet? You decided that you were gonna get fucked one way or another? Is that it?”

He asks each question as he thrusts his fingers in and out of you. It shallow. He doesn't allow you the pleasure of going further than his first knuckle. You try to grind down on his digits, but he holds your hips down with his free hand.

“Whoever you've been giving my pussy away to, hasn't been doing a very good job... have they?” He groans as you clench around him.

“Jungkook please. I want-”

“Shh baby, I know. I'll give it to you I promise. Just give me one first” he begs as he speeds up his circles on your clit.

He sinks his teeth into the sensitive spot on your neck, and you cum almost instantly. Your body shakes and you wrap your arms around his neck as your pussy convulses around his fingers.

You barely have time to recover before he's pulling your shorts down, and cleaning up the mess you made. He catches the slick of you orgasm on your tongue just as it starts running down your leg.

He goes at your pussy like a man starved. You cry out the moment his tongue enters you. You ride his tongue with vigor, gripping unto the counter for stability.

Jungkook pulls away from you for moment. His mouth is shiny from your juices, and his eyes are already so blown out that you want to fuck him even more.

He guides your hand to his hair, and encourages you to grab the tendrils.

“Use me, baby” he instructs.

His voice is so gravelly and raw, that you can do nothing but oblige him.

You grip the roots of his hair and push his head back between your legs. You both moan when he starts lapping at you again. You hold his head in place, guiding him where you want him; where you need him.

The second time you cum, your legs closed so tight around his head that Jungkook thought he had died and went straight to heaven.

You pull him away from your core by his hair, and bring him up to your face. You clean his face with your own tongue, and lean in to kiss him so you both taste like you. Your chests are still heaving when Jungkook carries you to your room.

He lays you gently on the bed, and takes his shirt off at the same time you toss your blouse over your head. He's about to undo the strings of his sweatpants when he stops cold in his tracks..

“ Shit, baby…I don't have any condoms. I didn't plan on this-”

“ It's okay,” You reassure him “ I'm clean. Are you?”

Jungkook looks a little scandalized. “Of course I'm clean, I haven't - I havent been with anyone except you since before we started dating.” His honesty shines so brightly in his eyes that you almost want to pull him into a hug.

You release a shaky, nervous breath you didn't know you had been holding.

“ Good. I want to feel you, all of you.”

The bed sinks as Jungkook climbs over you, one leg on each side of your body.

You've missed this view. Him on top of you, chain swining in your face, and big doe eyes filled with lust for you and only you.

He takes a hairtye from around his wrists, and pulls his hair into a low manbun. His cock is already painfully hard, red and leaking from the tip.

You spread your legs as Jungkook nestkes in-between them. He lifts one of your legs over his shoulder, and presses a soft kiss to your calf.

He rubs himself between your folds, mesmerized by how quickly your wetness coats him.

He lines himself up with your entrance, and pauses.

“Are you sure you're ready baby? I don't want to hurt you.”

“ Is that it? Or are you scared that you don't hold a candle to ‘Woo-Woo’ my” you jest. Jungkook doesn't find it very funny.

He pushes himself into you, but as wet as you are, you're still so, so tight. Your pussy is so warm…hot even, that Jungkook almost cums the moment yes fully sheathed in you.

You're just as tight as he remembers, tighter even.

You both moan when he delivers his first thrust. You haven't had dick in so long,that you'd forgot what it felt like. How it felt like to have your walls stretched and your g spot caressed, how delicious and heavy the drag was inside you. How good Jungkook was at this. You feel so good that Jungkook practically forgets that he's supposed to be mad at you.

“You know you belong to me right?” Jungkook demands as he thrusts into you, slow and forceful. You don't answer and turn your face away from him He wraps his hand around your throat as speed up.

“Fucking look at me when I'm talking to you!”

His thrusts become faster, punishing. He practically ploughs you into the mattress as whatever restraint he had before vanishes into thin air. You scream the more intense the pleasure gets.

“ I should fuck another baby into you, you know that? Hm? Should swell your tummy up with another one of my kids, so you have nine months to think about why the fuck you would do something as stupid as try to leave me.”

He finds your gspot as effortlessly as he usually does, and he hits it over and over and over again.

“Jungkook PLEASE” you cry. You reach your hand out to push against the hardness of his abdomen. He takes your hand and kisses it. You're so close. So fucking close, and Jungkook can tell.

“You want to cum, don't you baby?”

You nod frantically. Your pussy is practically raw from overstimulation, and you feel so much pressure building inside you that you don't know whether you want to run away from the pleasure or dive headfirst into it.

“Yes! Yes! Yes! I need to please.”

“Then tell me. Fucking tell me you're mine”

“Fuck, I'm yours, Jungkook! Please!” you cry.

“ How many people have you fucked since you left? Answer me!” He commands you, adding a finger to your clit to the mix.

“Nobody, no one, Jungkook Please!”

“ I know baby, I just needed you to admit it.”

He leans down and places a soft kiss to your temple. He gives you two more delicious thrusts that make your toes curl and your eyes roll back. Your lurches forward as your orgasm rips through you. Your walls convulse around him, squeezing him so tight that Jungkook feels a bit dizzy.

“Baby,” he whines “unwrap your legs so I can pull out.” He gasps when your legs only wrap tighter around him. “Baby, I have to-”

“N-no,” you protest “ I want it inside Jungkook please.”

He cums so forcefully that his orgasm leaves him winded and his arms almost give out. He spils his seed into you, and you feel the warmth of it coat your walls.

He pulls out of you as he begins to soften, and collapse beside you as he tries to catch his breath. You both turn to look at each other, and Jungkook offers you a soft smile.

He notices the sweat starting to bead on your forehead, and turns his head to switch your fan on.

That's when you see it. Your eyes bug out of their sockets.

“Jungkook, what the hell is that on your neck?”

“ What are you talking about?”

“Right there,” you turn his head to the right to get a better look. Your heart starts thumming uncontrollably in your chest. Because there it was, your name in bold black letters for everyone to see.

“Jungkook…When did you get that?”

“Hm…about five months ago?” he chuckles. He had the decency to look sheepish.

“Jungkook!” You say as you slap his chest “ We weren't even together!”

“ Correction, we are together, we just have separate living arrangements.”

You look at him incredulously.

“You're crazy, you know that?’

“About you? Yeah..Real crazy baby” he flirts “Hey, you never told me woo this ‘Woo-Woo’ guy is anyways .”

You roll you eyes at him as you climb of the bed.

“I can't tell you who he's not. He's not the one whose cum is dripping out of me right now. Are you gonna join me on the shower or what?”

Fin.

[stevesgother]

From Now On (Our Troubles Will Be Miles Away) I S.H

Pairing - Dad!Steve Harrington x Fem!Mom!Reader

WC - 1.5k

Summary - enjoy some christmas stevie with your toddler, and a special announcement… <3

AN - oops! It appears i can’t stop writing steve as a father. y’all can thank mady @skeltn for that one. 

With love- Emma

The soft, staticky sounds of Frank Sinatra’s ‘Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas’ emanate from the thrifted record player in the living room; drifting into the kitchen where you’re rolling cookie dough and wincing as your toddler tries to ‘help’ by adding way too much food coloring into the bowls of frosting.

Over the sounds of nostalgic Christmas tunes, you hear a small crash and the cursing of your husband as he attempts to wrap your eight foot tree in garland.

“You okay, honey?” You shout from where you stand at the counter.

A pause, “Yeah, I’m just–ugh these fuc–”

“Steve!--”

“Fudging lights–” he corrects, “they’re all tangled. I’ve been working at them for, like, twenty minutes,”

“Let me get these cookies in the oven, Ellie and I will come help,” you call back.

More grumbling can be heard echoing from the other room as your daughter, Eleanor, is rummaging through your small container of cookie cutters, eventually giving up and deciding that it would simply be easier to dump all of them out onto the floor.

Her pudgy little hands grab one that's shaped like santa in a sleigh as she declares,

 “I do this one,”

“Do you want mommy’s help or do you got it by yourself?”

She doesn’t respond but clumsily presses the stencil into the floured dough. It comes out a little wonky, but you don’t mind, you aren’t going for perfection. Steve will have eaten them all within the next few hours, anyway.

Speak of the devil, “How are my girls doin’?” he saunters over to you, slightly sweaty from the exertion of decorating the tree and presses a kiss to both yours and Ellie’s cheeks.

When he sees Eleanor’s handiwork, he gasps, “Ellie, baby, these are beautiful!” He fawns over the barely recognizable shapes on the baking sheet like they’re the most magnificent thing he’s ever seen in his whole life.

Ellie can tell he’s pleased with her and starts to giggle with her sticky hands over her mouth. You wisely chose a recipe that didn’t call for eggs, knowing your three-year-old was bound to ingest the raw dough at some point during the process.

Now that Steve’s in the room though, she conveniently decides she’s done helping and motions with her arms for her dad to pick her up. He does so without hesitation, even though she’s covered in frosting and flour, easily lifting her from where she stands in just an oversized tee on a step ladder against the cabinets.

“Let’s go get you cleaned up, huh? Give mommy a break,” he looks pleadingly to you, “Can you please try to untangle the lights while I’m gone?” And how could you say no when he looks so pretty and asks so nicely?

◞◟·̩͙  ͜  ˳꣑୧ ͜  ◞◟·̩͙◟

By the time you’re finally done unraveling and applying a mess of sparkly bulbs and shiny tinsel to your Christmas tree, Ellie comes barreling out of the bathroom in nothing but a towel wrapped around her and Steve hot on her tail. Miniature wet footprints mark a path from the bathroom door all the way to the couch, and it doesn’t take a scientist to figure out who the culprit is.

“Eleanor Rose!” He yells through gritted teeth, solely because he’s fighting a smile.

You laugh boisterously as you watch your grown husband chase after a toddler in an uncomfortable crouched position that looks ridiculous displayed on someone his size. It’s a sight for sore eyes.

“Hey! It’s not funny!” Now his feigned frustration is directed towards you, “Are you just gonna stand there and laugh or are you gonna help me catch this gremlin?!”

As it turns out, he doesn’t need help after all. When Ellie reaches the couch, she realizes she has nowhere left to turn and succumbs to a fit of giggles on the fluffy cushions. She’s red in the face and certainly not dry, but you can’t find it in yourself to be annoyed. Your couch might be a little soggy, your floor might be a little slippery, and Steve might be absolutely exhausted, but you don’t dare dream of your life looking any differently than this.

Steve’s playing Tickle Monster with Ellie when you realize she still needs her pajamas on.

“You wanna get her dressed or shall I?” You ask him over your daughter’s squealing.

“Oh, take her, please,” you can tell he’s teasing though. If you really wanted, Steve would let you lounge in your bathrobe all day– reading Cosmos and drinking iced tea while he took care of Ellie. He’s in his element when he’s spending time with her. Even when you were just silly teenagers in love, you’d never seen him so fulfilled as he is now.

That sentiment is the only reason why you don’t feel wracked with nerves over the news you’re about to deliver him.

◞◟·̩͙  ͜  ˳꣑୧ ͜  ◞◟·̩͙◟

Steve’s putting the last of the ornaments on the tree when Ellie reappears from her bedroom with a huge smile plastered to her face. She careens into his shins and he stumbles a little with the unexpected force.

“Hi, peanut!” He grunts a little when he picks her up. You follow suit, wearing the matching pajamas Steve had picked out at Sears for everyone last weekend.

“Did you get your jammies–?” His eyebrows knit together, puzzled, as he realizes he doesn’t recognize the top she has on as the one he bought for you all to wear tonight.

“Babe, why didn’t you put her in the–”

It's then that he catches the words printed on shirt in bold, pink letters,

‘Big Sister.’

Once the initial confusion passes, his eyes immediately well with tears and his features soften like butter.

“What? He asks in that quiet, wobbly voice you’d only ever heard him use a handful of times.

“Surprise,” you respond timidly with your hands out in an almost-shrug.

He sets Eleanor down as gently as he can while also rushing to your side. He embraces you so tight it nearly knocks the wind out of you. When he lets up, he still doesn’t let you go far as he cups your face in both of his warm hands.

“How long have you known?”

“A week or so,” you shrug.

“Baby, I can’t believe this!” his quiet, shocked demeanor quickly morphs into something more like excited giddiness and he’s practically jumping up and down now.

“Oh my God!” He picks Ellie up and swings her around by her armpits before smacking kisses all over her tiny face. You know she’s still a bit too young to properly comprehend the gravity of the announcement, but she’s just so happy because her dad’s so happy.

“Ellie Bear! Mommy’s having a baby!” He holds her by her torso and gives her a light shake, she just throws her head back and laughs, not a clue what’s got him so worked up. With her belly exposed, he blows a raspberry on the exposed skin.

You make your way back to his side and engulf them both in a hug. Your perfect little family of three, soon to be four, and you couldn’t be more content than you are in this moment.

◞◟·̩͙  ͜  ˳꣑୧ ͜  ◞◟·̩͙◟

Two hours and one Christmas TV special later, Ellie is snuggled tight to Steve’s chest, lost to slumber. It appears Steve’s not too far behind her as his head is rested against the back of the couch– mouth open and slightly snoring– comforted by his own personal weighted blanket.

“Stevie,” you whisper, giving him a gentle shake, “don’t fall asleep,”

“Jus’ resting my eyes, darlin’,”

You scoff, teasing, “Right,”

He looks down at the sleeping child nuzzled into him, and plants a barely there kiss to the crown of her head. He rises slowly, so as not to wake her, and you follow him to her room.

He sets her down atop the frilly pink comforter with a practised ease, she stirs only slightly, and covers her up with a Disney Princess blanket that was previously splayed at the end of the mattress. You take turns giving her featherlight kisses and wishing her ‘sweet dreams’ even though you know she can’t hear you.

You and Steve are hand in hand as you tiptoe out of her room and close the door with a soft click, giggling like children.

Outside her door, he presses a tender kiss to your forehead. Then to each cheek. Then to your mouth.

“I love you,” you whisper.

“I love you,” he whispers back, “more than anything,”

“Wanna call it a night?”

“Can we make out first?”

You gasp in faux disapprovement as you smack a loving hand against his chest and he fakes a wince for dramatic effect. Always the drama queen, your Steve.

“Keep it in your pants, Big Boy,”

“Don’t call me that,” he tries to sound stern and fails.

“You love it,” you smirk.

You squeal when he grabs you behind your knees and hoists you up and over his shoulders.

“Quiet, baby. You’re gonna wake up our baby,” he scolds through a giggle. You pinch his butt in retaliation.

“Okay, that’s it. Off to bed with you,”

The next hour is spent in bed with your best friend– hushed laughs and languid kisses and skin caressing skin before you both drift off into a peaceful sleep; holding each other close like you always have.

divider credit to @/strangergraphics

[q8qwertyuiop8p]

Jinx's drawing of herself and Silco in the artbook, showing the "powder" and "jinx" side of them both

[serendipitous-seven]

his entire world | min yoongi x f!reader | a serendipitous life series

summary: you and yoongi are trying to enjoy your friends' wedding with a very fussy baby pairing: yoongi x f!reader [kitt] tags/warning: baby-related things such as breast milk, general family mentions

a/n: sometimes the bug bites me and i feel encouraged to repost my fics. comfort fic for me, maybe comfort fic for you?

dad!bts series | a serendipitous life mlist

Everything is perfect. A blue sky, a balmy breeze, an intimate setting with friends and family. You smile with teary eyes, watching two of your closest friends recite their vows to one another.

Well, it's almost perfect.

If not for your fussy one-year-old, who has not stopped whining since the ceremony began. You and Yoongi have been playing hot potato with Dae, trying to settle him down, it only worked for a few minutes before your son started to squirm again.

Yoongi pats his son’s back, gently shushing him. “He didn’t nap like usual.” You whisper while the groom expresses his undying devotion to his bride. “His sleep schedule is off-”

A blood-curdling scream bellows out of your baby, causing those around you to jump. You feel your face heat up as you hurriedly take Dae from Yoongi’s arms, passing through and whispering apologies with a crying Dae. Before Yoongi can offer to take him, knowing you would want to see your friends end this sweet moment with a kiss, you are gone in a flash.

“I know, baby,” you groan, now hidden away in a secluded area, bouncing Dae in your arms. He cries from his deepest depths, rubbing his face on your shoulder. In your haste to escape, you forgot to ask for the keys to the car where you hoped to soothe your son to sleep. Hearing the guests clap and cheer for your now-married friends, your heart sinks.

Yoongi seeks you out once the ceremony ends, finding you pouting beneath a tree. He can hear Dae whimpering, taking him back into his arms but not before kissing your forehead; “I missed the best part,” you say, on the verge of tears yourself. With a breathy chuckle and sympathetic smile, Yoongi hands you his phone and you repay him with a grateful kiss. The video is great, but maybe your tired baby has you feeling sorry for yourself - you just wanted to see your friends seal their vows with a kiss in person.

“The drive to the reception area is about 20 minutes,” Yoongi begins to reason, wiping Dae’s tear-stained cheeks in the process, “maybe he’s tired himself out enough to knock out on the way there.”

You rub Dae’s healthy head of wavy locks while he hiccups the last of his tears away. “Please, for the love of God, sleep for mommy,” your tone is nothing less than desperate.

Call it wishful thinking or a request fallen on deaf ears.

Whatever it is, a peaceful baby is not on your side. Rather, you watch the guests you and your family are sat with dwindle the longer Dae cries. He isn't fussing anymore. He isn't whining. He is screaming.

“Honey,” Yoongi starts calmly. He's always calm and it drives you crazy sometimes. “I don’t think he wants his bottle.”

“I can see that,” you say, making another attempt to press the rubber tip against Dae’s pouted lips, “but I can’t feed him in this dress, I’d have to take it off completely!”

Frustrated. You are frustrated.

Yoongi sighs, rubbing his hand on your shoulder, “Let me try-”

Dae challenges the volume of excited guests and dinner music, screeching into the air and knocking the bottle out of your hand. Milk squirts out of the tip and all over the top of your dress, catching the ends of your hair. Yoongi clams his lips together and you can see his cheeks turn pink, “I swear Yoongi if you laugh-”

“Go.” Yoongi takes Dae, holding his tiny battering hands into his large one, “I’ll take care of him, just go clean up then find your friends.”

“I’m not leaving…”

“Go enjoy yourself, sweetheart. I’ve got this,” Yoongi insists as he pushes you out of your seat. You get up, heading straight for the bathroom with a sigh of relief and tears in your eyes.

Of all people, your husband knows best. Yoongi understands your frustrations, even more, he knows your limits. As first-time parents, the challenges can feel insurmountable. You both love your son - there isn’t a single doubt that you love your son. But there are days, like today when Dae seems to know how to push your buttons a little harder.

Yoongi continues in a calm timbre, kissing Dae’s hand that is simultaneously pushing against his cheek. He catches the sorry glance from a few of the members as he passes through the dining area, pinching a smile. “You can at least look like you love me, son.”

Dae cries. He pushes against Yoongi’s chest, his neck, and his chin. He wails to the point his cheeks turn bright red, stained from hot tears. Yoongi doesn’t let up, holding his son and even setting him on the ground, keeping his large hands around his son’s stomach. Just let it out, Yoongi thinks to himself. He blinks slowly, using his fingers to clear Dae’s tears now and then.

“You’re sleepy,” Yoongi chuckles when Dae starts to settle beneath his dad’s touch. “Yah, stop fighting it.”

Dae breathes in short bursts. Without a tissue or something from the baby bag, Yoongi wipes the remnants of his son’s tears with the inside of his suit jacket. No one would ever look there.

You are able to spend time with the bride and groom and a few friends(and a couple of glasses of champagne)all thanks to your husband. The dancing started an hour ago, to which you got a few in before missing baby. Who were you kidding, you missed him the entire time but the temporary separation was nice. This time, you have a smile on your face despite the faint stain of breast milk splattered across your dress.

Coming back from the restroom after freshening up, a mellow song is playing beneath the white canopy. Dusk is soon covered by a darkened sky. String lights twinkle above the guests and almost everyone is out of their seats, slow dancing on the dance floor. Your search for Yoongi and Dae isn’t long.

You have to bite your lip when you finally spot them.

A few more moments alone wouldn’t hurt. You stand next to a post, holding your hands together while watching the two greatest loves of your life.

Dae is asleep in your husband’s arms while Yoongi moves slowly, swaying from one foot to the other. Back and forth back and forth. Yoongi smiles into a kiss, pressing his thin lips against Dae’s head. Taking his pointer finger to rub against your son’s cheek. You watch his mouth move as he whispers something to your sleeping baby.

“Hey,” you stroke Yoongi’s back and he turns his head to follow you until you're standing in front of them. His smile is wide, it’s warm and it’s reflective of home. His large hand continues to pat Dae’s bottom while he sleeps in his arms. You peer around, Dae’s chubby cheek pressed against Yoongi’s shoulder. You kiss his nose before looking back at Yoongi.

“Did you have fun?” Yoongi asks, resting his cheek against Dae’s head, dark eyes sparkling down at you. You almost lose yourself in them, reaching up to run your hand back through his hair. You nod, thanking him with a soft kiss. Yoongi groans against your lips, another smile stealing you away.

“Come here,” Yoongi is pulling you in with one arm before you can say otherwise, securing it around your shoulder. You hold him by the waist, one hand resting over Yoongi’s that is pressed against Dae’s back. He has his entire world in his arms, the three of you slowly moving to the gentle music.

©serendipitous-seven, 2025. don't steal my content. it is illegal, it is rude, and portrays laziness on the part of the thief. so, please, enjoy my works, but do not steal.

[livelovecaliforniadreams]

#Girl Dads

[muniimyg]

𐙚₊˚⊹ bbydaddy!yoongi (9) ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹

series m.list // taglist

note: sorry this update took forever !!! enj <3

//

there are no words that can describe how incredibly awkward you feel when you wake up.

last night—after you and yoongi crossed that unspoken line and messed around—you two ended up tangled together.

it’s strange because in between soft touches and sleepy murmurs—you actually got to know him in ways you never expected.

you recall it all.

his quiet voice filling the spaces between the darkness and your hushed breathing so you could hear every tone, every word, and every breath of his crystal clear. 

yoongi told you stories and confessions that slipped out between shallow breaths. childish yet meaningful things he probably didn’t even realize he was saying.

you remember him murmuring about the way his mom used to hold his hand when he couldn’t fall asleep as a kid, or how he swore he’d never own a fish again because when he was 11 years old... he had 14 goldfishes and they all died one by one 2 weeks later.

he swears it wasn't his fault.

you tell him you believe him.

(you really do.)

he also talks about his quiet love for early mornings, how at peace he feels when he’s the only one awake in a still-sleeping world. in that half-dazed vulnerability, yoongi let you in. 

just enough for you to see a side of him you hadn’t expected, a part that was softer, quieter, more open.

then, you two talked about baby injeolmi.

how you two don't really care about the gender and just want a healthy baby. so much so that you both agreed to not know the gender and to just be surprised on the day of. oh, and how you do want a baby shower and think hye mi is already plotting that...

then, you two talked about the moving in thing again.

that's when you pretended to go to sleep and actually fell asleep. yoongi only laughed at you, fully knowing that you're just nervous. you're moving in one way or another.

he knows it.

you know it...

but aside from the way the talk ended; it went well.

no, the talk wasn’t everything…

but it was something. 

now, with the morning light filtering through the blinds, reality started to seep back in.

the familiar awkwardness of two people who shared more than they’d planned. you can feel his warmth beside you, his hand still loosely draped over your waist, and a twinge of nervousness fluttered in your stomach.

you glance at him, expecting him to be asleep. but then, his eyes blinked open, groggy but sharp enough to catch the slight flush in your cheeks. 

still half-asleep, his voice rough as he mumbles, “hi…”

for a second, neither of you move, as if lingering in that quiet, unguarded space between sleep and reality. suddenly aware of the intimacy, he clears his throat, his gaze softening but pulling back just a bit.

you offer him a shy smile, feeling the weight of everything unsaid between you.

“a-about last night…”

he chuckles softly, rubbing a hand over his face. “yeah… last night…”

then, he pauses to gather his words.

“wait, are you talking about me yapping or me sucking your tits?”

none. you’re talking about pretending to fall asleep regardless, your shy smile breaks as you burst into laughter. he joins your laughter and sighs. 

“i mean, are we gonna talk about any of it or is acknowledging it good enough for now? i don’t know if i’m awake enough for the conversation but i will be if you want to—”

“all good,” you assure him. “i don’t know where i was going with any of it. i guess i just wanted… to know if you—”

“i liked it,” he tells you, not digging any deeper. “you getting to know me, me sucking your tits—all of it.”

as promised, yoongi takes you to the baby store. 

your eyes light up the minute you step foot in it. it’s then that yoongi remembers exactly who he’s having this baby with. 

you and your fucking babyfever. 

the baby store is a mix of pastel colors, tiny clothes, and gentle lullabies playing over the speakers. yoongi trails behind you as you wander through the aisles. one hand resting on the cart as he pushes it along, his eyes constantly flicking to you with a quiet, thoughtful focus.

though you two are pretty good at communicating—the whole physical affection part? that’s still a little wonky. for instance, every time you pause to examine something, yoongi is right there, his hand slipping gently around your waist to guide you to the next aisle or just to linger beside you. it’s so subtle that, at first, you think it’s an accident, a reflex. 

but then it keeps happening.

at first, it throws you off—his casual closeness.

the way he stays so near, like a shadow. you’re not used to this kind of attention from him.. this quiet and steady affection. but strangely enough, you find that you don’t mind it. in fact, there’s something comforting about the way he stays close, attentive to your every move.

when you stop to touch a soft little onesie covered in tiny clouds, yoongi doesn’t even hesitate. he reaches over, gently taking it from your hands and adding it to the cart without a word. 

you shoot him a questioning look, but he only shrugs, a small smile tugging at his lips as if to say, whatever you want.

“yoongi, you know you don’t have to buy everything i touch, right?” you remind him, glancing at the growing pile in the cart.

yoongi just chuckles, unbothered, and places his hand on your waist again as you reach the aisle full of toys. his touch is warm and grounding, making it hard to argue with him.

“you’re not carrying any of it home, so relax,” he says with a smile that’s both charming and final. “i like this shit too. they’re cute or whatever—”

then, your fingertips brush as you both reach for a soft, star-patterned onesie. he lets go first, letting you hold onto the onesie.

“this one’s cute,” you say softly, running your thumb along the fabric. then, you bite back a small smile when you realizes yoongi hasn’t moved his hand from your waist.

“yeah,” he murmurs, nodding. his voice is softer than usual, but before you can read into it, he takes the onesie and tosses it into the cart. then he grabs a few more items without asking you, each time ignoring your attempts to peek at the price tags.

“yoongi..."

"what?"

"are you serious?"

he looks at you blankly. "don't we need these things?"

you nod but give him a stern look. "yeah, but we can't buy out the whole store."

"why not?"

"first of all, that's insane... and second of all—a-are you just—"

you reach for a soft, stuffed rabbit, just curious to feel it, and—predictably—he plucks it right out of your hands, tossing it into the cart.

"you are."

"i'm what?"

"seriously?" you huff, barely holding back a grin. “you’re not even letting me decide if i want it. you're tossing it in just because i touched it.”

he remains unbothered by your protests. 

“what if i just think you have good taste?” he says, glancing at you with a hint of mischief. 

and with that, he gives you a gentle nudge, guiding you further down the aisle with that warm hand still resting at your side.

“are you saying that just to flatter yourself?”

“what do i have to do with this?”

“well, you’re my type and my babydaddy—”

“i’m your type?” yoongi tilts his head at you. "good to know..."

you blush, eyes wide from embarrassment. before you can make up some excuse to save face, he leans in and playfully pinches your waist.

“you're my type too, mama.”

you clear your throat and redirect the conversation.

"s-should we pick a crib?"

yoongi gestures his hand for you to lead the way.

as you begin to walk, you turn your head and send him a glare.

"... and be serious about this part, okay? this is the crib we're picking out. read the packaging and make your judgement. i'm gonna end up choosing the prettiest one that might not function as well as the ugly one... so, can i trust your taste on this?"

yoongi nods, pushing the cart with a steady, unhurried pace, his hand resting casually on the handle.

“you can trust me,” he says, his voice low and sincere.

... and so, you do.

you trust him.

when you reach the checkout, you step forward to pay but—

yoongi slips right past you.

casually handing over his card to the cashier before you even get a chance. you cross your arms and narrow your eyes at him, watching as he signs the receipt, completely unbothered.

the total is easily above $3,000. 

he meets your gaze with a look that’s almost playful, his expression all wide-eyed innocence, as if he hadn’t just ignored your efforts.

"yoongi," you begin, voice firm. “we’re both injeolmi's parents, and it’s not fair for you to pay for everything. at least let me pay half—”

he doesn’t respond right away, just nods patiently, his attention focused on gathering the bags the cashier hands him. his face is calm, listening but clearly not swayed. he loads a big box containing the crib into the cart, then places the bags filled with tiny clothes, blankets, and toys right beside it, adjusting them carefully.

you press on, leaning slightly forward, hoping to get through to him.

“we’re both responsible here... i know i'm not a nurse practitioner like you, but it's not like i can’t contribute, you know—"

“i know.”

yoongi glances over his shoulder at you, his mouth quirking in the faintest smile as he stacks the last bag. he seems unbothered by your scolding, more amused than anything.

“this is my baby too and i feel uncomfortable letting you do this much—”

finally, he turns to you, reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair back from your cheek in a gesture so casual it nearly makes you forget your own irritation. 

“do what? provide?”

you're tongue tied.

“all done? feel better, mama?” he asks, his tone light, but his eyes sparkle with a hint of mischief. “if not, go ahead. say what you want. say what you need to say. i’m listening.”

you let out a small huff, crossing your arms more tightly, trying to stay serious.

“you’re not paying for everything, yoongi.”

he raises one eyebrow, his expression softening but still unwavering. 

“i am. i did.” he shrugs, nonchalantly. it feels like he’s teasing you even though he isn’t. “___, i’m all done with this topic now. are you?”

“no, actually, i—” you start, feeling your frustration build.

“great,” he interrupts, his smile spreading into a grin that makes your heart skip. 

he reaches down, taking your hand in his, his grip gentle yet firm, and begins to guide you toward the exit, leaving you no room to protest. 

his thumb rubs lightly over your knuckles as he holds your hand, a grounding gesture that calms you, even as he completely ignores your point. 

“let’s go home,” he says softly, his voice warm, as though it’s the simplest decision in the world.

home.

following yoongi inside his condo, the familiar sight of his place tugging at something inside you. 

it’s been a while since you’ve been here. the memories of that night still linger like a quiet hum in the back of your mind, but you push them aside. 

focus on the present. 

focus on the baby.

he leads you through the hallways, and you try to ignore the way your pulse quickens as you walk past his bedroom. you know it’s silly—nothing’s changed here. but still, the weight of the space feels different, heavier now. maybe it’s because this time, you’re here for something else. 

this time, it’s about the baby.

and the fact that you’ll be moving in soon… fuck, your mind begins to spin.

then, yoongi stops in front of a door, his hand resting lightly on the handle. he opens it slowly, stepping aside to let you in. 

“this is the guest room,” he says, but you can tell he’s hesitating, like he’s waiting for your reaction. “soon to be baby injeolmi’s room…”

you step inside, your gaze instantly drawn to the empty space. it’s clean, quiet, the pale walls untouched by time or use. the sunlight pours in from the window, making the room feel warmer, but it’s still just a room. 

there’s nothing personal about it. 

nothing that belongs to anyone yet.

but you can already picture it—nursery furniture, soft colors, the quiet hum of a baby’s lullaby filling the air. you glance back at him, noting the careful expression on his face. he’s watching you, waiting for your approval. waiting for your thoughts, even if you’re not sure what to say. you wonder if he’s nervous too, if this feels as strange to him as it does to you.

for a moment, your mind drifts to that night—the night everything changed. 

the night you slept together. 

the night you felt something more than just friendship between you two. the way his touch felt, the way his lips lingered on yours, and how quickly it all faded into the awkward silence the next morning.

"i also made space for your things in my room. i'm not finished clearing out my all shit but i will be by next week. does that sound okay?"

"huh?" you blink. "n-next week?"

yoongi nods.

"i think i gave you enough time to think things over... and don't act like this is a surprise. i brought it up last night. you pretended to sleep."

your eyes widen.

"i—"

"move in with me next week," yoongi says. "... you can pretend to sleep mid conversation in my bed from now on."

by an hour and half in, you and yoongi have filled the space with scattered remnants of baby gear—boxes, parts of cribs, and the disassembled pieces of a changing table. they all lay haphazardly across the floor. 

it’s oddly comforting.

the clutter somehow feels like a soft reminder of the chaos and excitement that’s about to come.

yoongi is kneeling on the floor, tools in hand, as he begins to assemble the crib, the sound of metal and wood clicking together filling the otherwise quiet room.

you lean against the doorway, arms crossed, watching him work with a careful, focused precision. his brow is furrowed, his jaw clenched as he concentrates on each piece. his sleeves are rolled up, revealing forearms that make it hard to focus on anything else. you swallow, not bothering to hide the way your eyes drift to the muscle in his arms as he works.

and then, almost instinctively, he looks up at you, his gaze meeting yours as if he can feel your eyes on him.

“baby injeolmi’s clothes need to be washed,” he says, his voice low but firm, his hands already reaching for another tool. “you want to do this 50/50? fine. but i don’t want you getting hurt.”

you push off the doorframe, rolling your eyes as you walk toward him, crossing your arms over your chest. 

you’re not used to him treating you like you’re made of glass, but you get where he’s coming from. still, it doesn’t sit well with you.

“i’m pregnant but i’m not fragile,” you argue. “i can help you with the crib—“

he doesn’t budge, his jaw tightening as he focuses on the task at hand. 

“humor me then,” he says, his tone patient, but there’s an underlying edge of stubbornness that makes it clear this isn’t up for debate.

you’re about to argue further, but the way he’s working—so effortlessly, so damn focused—has you momentarily silent. the way his arms flex as he screws the pieces together, the tension in his shoulders, the occasional glance up to check in on you—it all just feels so... domestic, and so right in this moment.

you step back a little, your breath catching as you take in the scene. yoongi, with his sleeves pushed up, lost in his work, looks so different from the guy you met—still him, but somehow more.

more... grounded. more steady.

your gaze lingers, unable to pull away.

your cheeks heat, a strange flutter in your chest as you realize you’ve been staring too long. When Yoongi catches your eye, his expression unreadable for a split second, you scramble to regain your composure.

“i’ll, uh…” you quickly clear your throat, suddenly feeling the weight of the moment. “i’ll get started on baby’s laundry. do you have clothes that need to be washed too? i can do a load—i mean… fuck—y-you know what? how about i make us some lunch first? yeah. i’ll do that.” you say, quickly backing away before your feelings get the best of you.

your steps are hurried as you leave the room, but you can still feel the heat in your face, the warmth of his gaze following you as you retreat.

yet, the image of him—focused, strong, and all yours—lingers, and you can’t help but smile to yourself as you step into the kitchen.

in the kitchen, you decide to keep it simple yet comforting. 

something easy to share, nothing too fancy. you settle on making caprese chicken sandwiches with a side of fresh fruit and chips. 

you finish grilling the chicken and layer it on the toasted ciabatta. you add slices of fresh mozzarella, letting it melt slightly, then pile on thick tomato slices and fresh basil leaves. a drizzle of balsamic glaze finishes it off before you top it with the other half of the bread, pressing it together gently when yoongi walks in. 

without a word, he leans against the counter beside you, his presence as familiar as the scent of the meal. he doesn’t wait for you to finish; instead, he picks up a melon slice and takes a bite.

“can’t you wait two seconds?” you laugh, nudging him playfully with your elbow.

yoongi just grins, completely unbothered. he takes another bite.

“fruit always taste better when moms cut them,” he says, his voice teasing but laced with that quiet sincerity of his. “oh, should i say milf? or is that jungkook’s line?”

you roll your eyes but can’t help the smile tugging at your lips.

the way he stands there, so effortlessly himself, makes your chest tighten in a way you didn’t expect. he’s always been like this—comfortable, confident, and somehow, when he’s this close, it feels like everything else fades away.

as he pulls away, you notice a small smudge of melon juice on the corner of his lips. without thinking, you reach up to wipe it away, your thumb brushing softly against his skin. the movement feels natural, almost automatic, but something about the intimacy of it makes your heart flutter. you don’t hesitate, bringing your thumb to your mouth to clean it off.

“mhmm,” you moan. “tastes sweet.”

then, the moment freezes.

yoongi stares at you, eyes wide, as if he’s seeing you for the first time, like the simple action has somehow shifted everything. the air between you thickens, and suddenly, it feels like there’s more than just the space in the kitchen separating you.

you stand still, unsure of what to do next. 

your eyes lock, and in that second, something unspoken passes between you. it’s not just the closeness or the warmth of the kitchen—it’s a pull, an undeniable magnetism that makes your chest tighten and your breath catch.

yoongi’s gaze drops to your lips, and you can feel the tension, the quiet yearning between you both. his hand twitches slightly at his side, like he wants to reach for you, but he’s holding back, waiting for you to make the first move.

and just as you’re about to lean in, your belly gives a sudden flutter.

you gasp, your eyes widening in surprise, and instinctively, you reach for his hand, pressing it gently to your belly. 

“oh my god.”

“what?”

“yoongi… i think… here—”

you hold your breath, waiting, and then—

there it is again. 

a small, unmistakable kick.

yoongi’s eyes light up with awe, his fingers curling slightly around your hand as he feels it, a slow smile spreading across his face. he doesn’t say anything at first, just stands there, his eyes fixed on your stomach, filled with wonder and something deeper that you can’t quite place.

you squeeze his hand, feeling the weight of the moment settle around you both.

“did you feel that?” you whisper, a smile tugging at your lips. 

yoongi looks up at you, his eyes softer now, holding something deeper than the simple wonder of the moment. 

the air around you two has shifted into something more intimate. then, his gaze flickers to your face, his heart fluttering in his chest as he steps a little closer, his thumb gently brushing over your hand.

… and as he looks into your eyes, his pulse quickens. 

it’s not just the baby’s kick he feels—it’s this quiet, undeniable pull between you two. his chest tightens with the weight of it, and for a moment; this is everything to him. 

everything.

he gulps as he soaks in your presence and sinks into the idea feeling of love beginning. then, slowly and then all at once; he accepts it. 

“yeah,” yoongi says, tone warm and ever so sure. “i feel it.”

as you look up to meet his eyes, yoongi’s lips tug into a smile. dipping his head low, he kisses you.

[daniwib]

[jkvjimin]

I'ma light it up like dynamite

[cr. namuspromised]

[jeonsbabygirlsworld]

DADDY DRABBLES MOODBOARD

SUMMARY: This Drabble series contains of small scenarios of them being a family from reader giving birth to baby's first words and them adopting pets and much more.

PAIRINGS: Husband JK X wife READER

WARNINGS: SMUT, FLUFF

IN COLLABRATION WITH @ahgasegotarmy116 🩷

A/N: hey guys! I hope you all would like this drabble series Thankyou to @ahgasegotarmy116 to continue when I thought this would go no where SO i plan on releasing twice a month, Requests for this family is always opened ;) Thank you so much for 550 followers I'm thankful for each one of you <3.

TAGLISTS ARE OPEN, COMMENT DOWN AND ILL ADD YOU

SOME DRABBLES MIGHT CONTAIN SMUT PLEASE BE AWARE🔞

DRABBLE ONE: Where the reader gives birth and Jungkook won't stop panicking.

DRABBLES TWO: In which you give your daughter an important life lesson

[justarkive]

THE JEONS : 05

05 : Pork Belly

summary: a collection of chaotic family drabbles. thats it.

contents: family!au, non.idol jungkook, girl!dad jk, fluff, angst, sensitive topics sometimes!

• chapter contents: literally just family fluff. jungkook tries to make pork belly for his little girl and hana DOES NOT WANT IT, bjr shes also lowkey fighting for her life to stay awake, cause when is she not??

• a/n: for the baby police in my asks : yes i know that 1 month olds indeed cannot eat anything apart from milk and my mistake for thinking they could while i wrote this so pls just pretend she is not one month old while reading this.

• taglist: @jenniebyrubies @lovingkoalaface @iamstilljk @elinaki92 @rpwprpwprpwprw @mafersame @parkinglot-nights (cmnt to be added)

masterlist , series masterlist

You should’ve known better. You really should’ve.

Jungkook on dinner duty is already a red flag, but you were tired, and he looked so confident, so you let him do his thing. Big mistake. Not because he doesn’t cook good - that man cooks really fucking good - but because he’s not so good with… baby friendly dishes.

Hana has just been rudely awakened from her nap, and she’s fighting for her life to stay awake, her tiny body swaying slightly in your arms as you carry her to the kitchen. She’s hungry, she’s sleepy, and most importantly—she’s expecting fine gourmet dining.

Which, in her world, translates to mashed potatoes, baby food, or literally anything that doesn’t require molars.

Instead, she’s greeted with the sight of Jungkook happily plating pork belly and rice.

You pause.

Hana blinks.

“…Pork belly?” you say slowly, watching as Jungkook—completely unfazed—takes a seat at the table.

“Yeah.” He picks up a slab, cuts a generous piece, and plops it directly onto Hana’s high chair tray.

Silence.

Absolute, deafening silence.

You stare at the greasy chunk of meat sitting in front of your six-month-old daughter.

Hana, still half-asleep, just sits there, blinking at the pork belly with the type of slow realization that looks like pure betrayal.

She thought she was about to be fed properly.

She thought she was about to be respected.

She thought she was about to be nourished.

Instead… this.

Jungkook, completely unaware of the culinary crime he has just committed, happily starts eating, stuffing his face like nothing is wrong. Meanwhile, Hana pokes the pork belly once, making a confused little noise.

“Bubububu.”

You, still staring in silence, wait for Jungkook to realize his mistake.

He does not.

Instead, Hana picks up the entire slab of pork belly, her tiny fingers barely able to grip it, the greasy surface slipping in her hand.

She is devastated.

You can see the tears forming.

Her face screams betrayal.

She turns to Jungkook as if to say, “You—my own flesh and blood—have done this to me?”

Jungkook finally looks up, eyes widening. “Baby, no—like this!” He hurriedly picks up his own piece and starts demonstrating, chewing dramatically, as if this is a learning experience instead of a complete disaster.

Hana’s bottom lip wobbles.

You immediately swoop in, lifting her from the high chair and cradling her against your chest. “Shhh baby-,” you whisper, rubbing her back as she lets out the tiniest, saddest whimper.

Then, you turn to Jungkook.

“Seriously? Pork belly? For a six-month-old?”

Jungkook, still eating, frowns at you. “I thought she’d like it.”

“You thought she’d like it?”

“She’s gotta start eating real food sometime.”

“She’s six months old.”

“She’s advanced.”

Hana, still sniffling, buries her face into your shoulder.

You sigh, pressing a kiss to her head before shooting Jungkook a look. “Next time, start with mashed potatoes before trying to serve our baby a whole-ass Korean BBQ platter.”

Jungkook pouts, glancing at Hana, who is now fully ignoring him.

“…She’s gonna hold this against me forever, isn’t she?”

“Yes,” you say immediately.

And judging by the way Hana is glaring over your shoulder, you’re pretty sure she agrees.

Jungkook’s entire world is falling apart.

His tiny, precious daughter, who usually adores him, is now ignoring him—all because he made the grave mistake of serving her pork belly.

“Baby,” he says softly, leaning in closer, eyebrows knitted in distress. “I’m sorry. Don’t be mad at Dada.”

Hana’s bottom lip wobbles.

She lets out a tiny, pitiful “Hmmph.”

Your heart melts at the sound, but Jungkook looks physically pained.

“Baby, please,” he pleads, reaching out to rub her tiny back. “I made a mistake. Dada is dumb.”

Hana sniffles dramatically.

You watch as she tilts her head just enough to peek at him, still glaring, but a little less now that Jungkook is using his softest, sweetest voice.

Taking advantage of her hesitation, Jungkook presses kisses all over her chubby little cheeks, each one coming with an exaggerated “mwah!”

“Dada loves you,” he coos. “Dada is so, so sorry. Next time, Dada will make mashed potatoes. Or rice. Or whatever you want, okay? You’re the boss.”

Hana squirms, still grumpy, but the way she grabs a fistful of his shirt is a clear sign she’s relenting.

You sigh, shaking your head with a fond smile. “You really thought pork belly was a good idea, huh?”

Jungkook pouts, looking genuinely ashamed. “She’s my daughter. I thought she’d appreciate good food.”

Hana lets out a tiny, tired huff.

Then—without warning—she leans forward and rests her face against his chest.

Jungkook gasps.

His eyes immediately soften, hands coming up to gently cradle her tiny body against him.

“Oh,” he breathes, rocking her slightly. “Baby…”

You watch as he slowly sways from side to side, rubbing her back in slow, soothing circles. His voice drops even softer as he whispers, “Sleepy, huh?”

Hana doesn’t answer, but the way her tiny fingers curl into his shirt says enough.

“Okay, okay,” Jungkook murmurs, pressing another soft kiss to her head. “Let’s forget about dinner. Just sleep, pretty girl. Dada will hold you.”

Your heart swells.

Despite the chaos, despite the pork belly incident, it’s moments like these that make you fall in love with him all over again.

With a small shake of your head, you step closer, reaching out to smooth Hana’s messy baby hair. “She loves you,” you whisper.

Jungkook smiles, gaze full of pure adoration. “I know.”

And with that, the pork belly betrayal is officially forgiven.