#jk dad au | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

foxymoxynoona · 1 year ago

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So...did we ever actually get a drabble with Jungkook getting to hold Kai for the first time after he's born? 🥺 the lil' boy who's made up of him and the woman he's loved for decades 🥺

I got carried away 😅

Story: Amended Characters: Isabella & Jungkook Length: 7,322 CW: Birthing scene with references to cutting cords and placentas and stitches, health complications at birth, stress, fluffy fluff

“There’s evidence of meconium in the amniotic fluid,” were not the first words Jungkook had expected to hear the seconds before his son’s head began to emerge from between the legs of his wife. It was surreal, what he witnessed, it had seemed like an impossible thing –like a cartoon, not something women actually went through. But Isabella was real, really going through this, really clenching her fists against her chest as she curled forward and pushed with everything in her, his tough strong girl who had agreed to go through all of this again so they could do it together. She had known what this was like. He kinda did but, he was learning in the moment, not really.

Watching Isabella go through this pain and being unable to fix it was a guilt second only to knowing the pain he had caused for her when they were younger. Well, he had sort of caused this too… but she had asked him to! Very sexily! How was he supposed to have resisted sex and getting to have a baby with her! No mortal man could resist that.

“Head is out,” the doctor called and Jungkook realized he was both present and not. They had suggested he watch. He would never be able to unsee what he was seeing now, but it was trippy –not just the baby’s head, covered in gooey gunk and some kind of white… cheese looking stuff??-- but this whole image, this whole experience.

“What does that mean, meconium?” he belatedly asked as the nurses encouraged Isabella to wait, not to push, as they quickly wiped off the baby’s face and sucked snarfy sounding stuff out of the nose and mouth. A head of hair he hadn’t expected stuck out at odd angles as the baby’s mouth opened and closed in protest, eyes firmly shut in what looked more like anger as the injustice of this introduction to the world.

Do they look like me? he wondered, feeling like the room had gone still despite the rapid actions of the doctor and nurses.

Isabella yanked him out of it, demanding, “Do you see the baby? How’s it look? Is everything ok?”

“The meconium,” he repeated, not sure someone had answered.

“Don’t worry about that right now,” one of the nurses said. “It may mean nothing, we just want to get Baby really clean to keep it out of their airway.”

“What if it’s–”

Jungkook was interrupted by the doctor calling, “Ok let’s get this baby clear–” The baby’s cry interrupted him, like it was say yeah get a fucking move on here, I’m a head sticking out of a vagina!

Jungkook grabbed Isabella’s hand, wanting to be helpful and involved somehow but feeling absolutely unnecessarily. For most of labor Isabella had not wanted to be touched. It had all moved so much faster than he’d expected. It wasn’t like he could contribute much of anything as Isabella curled forward, face sweaty and red and everything in her clenched as she expelled a tiny human from her body.

“Fuck you’re so hot,” he rushed –not quite what he’d meant to say, but absolute admiration for her loosened the words.

“The fuck?” she laughed. “Doctor this man is harassing me.” Her breath was panted, her words a cheat as she stole a break

Maybe those were the first words their child heard from their mother, if the baby could hear anything over the crying.

“One more push, one more push, you’re almost done!” the nurses chanted and Jungkook saw with amazement that a baby from the hips up had now emerged. He couldn’t process that it was real, that this was really happening, that Isabella had not just grown a big belly and that there really had been a tiny person in there all along. Their tiny person.

“I love you,” he said to her, to the baby, to both of them. “You’re so cool, Isabella.” He had the sudden need to rush out as many good things as he could, so the baby would be born surrounded by words of love and kindness. He assumed Isabella had showered Ezra and Lily with love at their births but he knew their “fathers” had not, not the way he did now for them, not the way he would for this baby.

He had wanted so badly for everything with this baby to be different and now he had contributed basically nothing to Isabella’s labor. She hadn’t wanted the massages or the kisses, she hadn’t found it amusing that he’d driven her to the hospital in his cop car with the siren on, and it had all moved too quickly for him to walk her up or down the hall with their arms linked and his words of devotion carrying her through her contractions.

They’d arrived at the hospital approximately eighteen minutes ago and here she was pushing out the baby.

This wasn’t what he’d planned. He wanted to be better than Landon and Stig.

“I love you, baby, you’re amazing,” he said. Isabella grabbed his hand and squeezed it this time with her push –a short one, replaced with a stunned, open face and a gasp. OUt of the corner of his eye, Jungkook saw the baby suddenly slide down, followed by a rush of fluid and the cheers of the medical staff.

“It’s out!” Isabella cried.

“He’s been screaming, didn’t you hear him Mama?” one of the nurses joked.

“Dad, are you going to cut the cord?”

“A boy,” Jungkook cried over his son’s cries, hands itching to grab him and comfort him. He glanced at Isabella to see if that was ok, that they’d had a boy. She had insisted so many times she didn’t care either way but… but a son, a boy might be like him… would Ezra be ok with a brother…?

Isabella was reaching forward, eyes glassy as she called, “Give him here.”

“One second mama, we want to make sure we got his mouth cleared–”

“Does it look like he aspirated–”

“I see some in the mouth but–”

“Dad, you cutting this cord?” the doctor called, stretching an intestinal-looking thing as a nurse held out a pair of scissors. Jungkook took them in a stupor. He didn’t really want to do this thing, it felt wrong to cut a body party, a piece of Isabella and their baby, but in the moment he was too overwhelmed to remember he’d meant to say no. He’d never forget the way the cutting felt in his hand and quickly thrust the scissors back, attention turning towards the baby who was now being dried and looked over, a stethoscope pressed to his chest as his little legs kicked and his hands reaching for a parent who was already failing him.

Jungkook didn’t realize he’d put his hand on Isabella’s head until she grabbed his wrist, her other arm hanging in the air as she called, “What’s wrong? What’s going on? Jungkook, I can’t see–”

“They’re looking at him and listening to his chest,” Jungkook said. Isabella’s panic made his rise. Was something really wrong?

“Hey, what’s going on?” he demanded, leaving her side and striding over to the rotisserie-chicken-heating looking thing the baby was on now. He didn’t know the doctor who had suddenly appeared from nowhere in all the chaos.

“Hello, I’m Dr. Gardner,” she said, “I’m the pediatric specialist here.” She held her finger up and listened again to the baby’s chest, though he’d stopped screaming. It was more of a gentle, plaintive cry now, as if he was giving up on life–

Or comforted by Jungkook’s sudden near voice.

Jungkook shifted the active part of his brain away from the doctor and to the baby –his baby– who needed him.

“Hey, hey little guy,” he cooed, leaning down and reaching right out to stroke a little chubby cheek. He got goosebumps, saying that to his son, to a real baby that was his. The baby’s head turned, wobbly, as if trying to press against his finger. “It’s ok. It’s ok you’re just born now, and your mama is waiting to hold you close.”

The pediatric doctor was rattling things off –a weight, a height, an APGAR score.

“I hear a slight crackle,” she told the nurse writing things down. “Breathing is slightly elevated but hard to say whether that’ll linger. Let’s check his vocal cords…”

“Excuse me, Dad. You can hold his hand but I need his head,” a nurse said, nudging him out of the way to first slide on a tiny yellow hat and then hold the infant’s head steady. Jungkook felt a jolt of alarm as the doctor suddenly slid a massive camera light clamp tool thing into the tiny little mouth. The baby didn’t seem more upset by this than he already was, didn’t even flail about it, though a nurse held his legs still anyway.

“Wait, what’s going on? Is this really necessary?” Jungkook demanded, worried he was already failing his son. He needed to understand what they were doing before they just did things!

“Koo?” Isabella called. “Someone tell me what’s happening!”

“Hands and feet are still bluish but may be pinking up,” the nurse holding the legs said.

The doctor nodded and removed the tool –which Jungkook saw now was just a light, not even as big as his panic had made him think. The baby screamed louder and he felt a surge of anger that no one was answering their questions.

“Excuse me,” he said, not as politely as he intended, and promptly scooped his baby up right from beneath the doctors. There was so little weight to the body as Jungkook’s hands lifted, his skin warm and oddly dry-feeling but with a softness to it he couldn’t describe. Jungkook didn’t know what he had expected, but not for the this newborn to feel like such a baby. He was only minutes old, how did he feel so real?

Unphased, the doctor touched Jungkook’s arm and cooed at the baby, “Good good. I’m sorry, little sunshine, we just have to make sure you’re ok.”

The baby continued to cry. He was so small! And yet, not quite as small as Jungkook had expected. Sorah had been miniscule, and Amelia just about. This baby felt bigger than Sian and Parker and Sam had been, but maybe he just didn’t remember? Jungkook tucked the baby down into the crook of his arm, nestled against his chest, and took it all back; suddenly the baby felt tiny! Impossibly small! He felt like his arms were too big and awkward despite ample experience holding even very fresh babies. Many times! Not quite as fresh as this one.

He was moving on fumes now as he bounced and hummed and tried to believe this was real.

“It’s ok, you’re ok, shhhh, I’ve got you.”

“Jungkook? What’s going on?”

“We can go to mom,” the doctor said, touching Jungkook’s arm. She had a smile on her face which soothed Jungkook because it had to mean nothing was badly wrong, though he couldn’t quite fight off the resentment that this doctor had already upset his baby and delayed his comfort and not even answered his questions.

He turned away from the chicken-roaster and saw Isabella watching with absolute terror that seemed totally disconnected from the doctor and nurses still working between her legs. She looked completely ignorant of that, her whole attention trained on Jungkook and the baby. Everything right now was so weird.

The baby gave a full body shudder and a nurse suggested, “I’ll get a diaper.”

“Who cares about a diaper,” Jungkook snapped, offended she’d think he was afraid of whatever the baby might produce. He was just born! Jungkook was his dad, he didn’t care, let babies be naked! “A blanket? Please.” It was tacked on. Politeness wasn’t at the front of his mind right now; his baby needed things and what, they were worried about some pee or poop? If that would make him feel better, he could poop all he wanted!

Jungkook’s throat felt thick as he tucked the baby higher, pressing his jaw gently to the hatted top of head as he carried him over to his anxious eomma. It was crazy. It was unbelievable. He was holding the baby and he couldn’t even make sense of that yet because it actually didn’t feel that weird at all, of course he was holding his son, hadn’t he always been holding his son since the dawn of time? Wasn’t this all just a really nice dream?

A nurse held out a blanket but first Jungkook lowered the baby into Isabella’s waiting arms, then took the blanket himself and tucked it around the baby. Isabella’s gasped and immediately pushed the hat off and stoked the hair and chubby little face and papery-thin ears as tears spilled over.

“Oh my god, our baby. Look at him.”

Only then did Jungkook more fully appreciate that he had held his son for the first time. His real living breathing in-the-world son. The baby’s cries quieted to a single final chirp of complaint and then nothing, just peace on his mom’s chest. Jungkook decided the baby had been real a moment ago, there was this haze of unreal around everything until Isabella and the baby were together. Now it was real. Impossible, but real.

“Oh my god,” Isabella said again. “He’s got so much hair!” Jungkook laughed and reached out to stroke the baby’s face again too, leaning close on the bed beside Isabella, ignorant to the bustle around the room. That was just background noise now. All that mattered was that suddenly they had a baby and Isabella was holding their baby.

He felt complete in a way he had not known was missing. Him, Isabella, Ezra, Lily, Gidget, and now this baby to tie them all together, he felt whole. He suddenly desperately wanted everyone here so he could hold everyone at once. His heart would burst.

“Was that you?!” Isabella gasped, looking up at him. The whining noise had come from him, not the baby at all, though it sounded like a baby noise. He tried to explain himself but only a cracked non-word came out and he blinked rapidly against the tears. “Oh my god you’re going to cry,” Isabella giggled. Her face glowed with sweat and effort and joy and Jungkook wasn’t surprised at all the way their son stared adoringly up at it. What a beautiful first view.

“I’m trying not to,” Jungkook admitted and laughed as his eyes threatened to run over. He pressed his face to Isabella’s shoulder and drew a deep shaky breath. The blanket moved against his chin, a little foot cycling. “Hey, are you trying to kick me already?!” The baby was a solid warm lump under the blanket, so warm Jungkook couldn’t believe it as he patted the little butt he’d been shown so many times on the ultrasounds.

“Ok, I’m sorry to interrupt again, we want to draw some blood,” the pediatric doctor said.

“You have to take him?” Isabella asked, shifting as though trying to sit up. The doctor down south told her not to move, so Jungkook slid his arm across her, trying not to notice that there were stitches happening in a place stitches shouldn’t be. How was Isabella not pay any attention at all to that?!

“In a moment, but you keep holding him now. Often that helps a baby improve and wake up, which is what we want to see, he’s still a little sleepy. Right now we’re just going to stick his foot. I will explain while the nurse does that. We noticed meconium in the amniotic fluid right before he was born. Meconium is the baby’s first stool, it’s this blank inky stuff–”

“We have two other children, I remember it,” Isabella interrupted. The joy was gone from her face, she looked so serious at the doctor. Jungkook could read her mind. Spit it out already.

“The concern is whether the baby aspirates the meconium into his lungs. If so, it can make it difficult for him to get the oxygen he needs. The good news is, he looks really good, his color is good, he is responsive and strong. There were no signs of fetal distress during labor and you delivered quickly, but a quick delivery can be hard on a baby too. I do hear a slight crackle in his lungs,” the doctor continued. Jungkook watched the nurse grab their baby’s tiny foot with a needle and resisted the urge to push her away. The baby didn’t seem to notice or care anyway. He was just… existing against Isabella, breathing quickly like he couldn’t quite trust the air of this new world.

“That’s bad,” Isabella said. “Is that why he’s kind of breathing fast? Does he need oxygen or something?”

“It’s not good but we don’t know if it’s bad yet. We’ll run a blood gas to look for low blood acidity, low oxygen or increased carbon dioxide. The most accurate way we can look to see if he’s aspirated is with a laryngoscope, which we’re setting up now.”

“Right now?” Isabella asked with alarm. “He was just born!”

“The last thing we want is your baby not getting the oxygen he needs to do well,” the doctor explained. “If he needs to go on oxygen therapy, better we do that quickly.”

“But…” Isabella trailed off, face distressed, but she was already shifting to hand it over. “You can check quickly?”

“I don’t understand, he’s in danger?” Jungkook tried to catch up.

“We hope not but we want to make sure so we can react quickly. Your baby’s APGAR score was a 5, which means–”

“He needs help,” Isabella said. “Take him, do what he needs! But tell me what’s going on!”

Jungkook felt like he’d done the wrong thing bringing the baby over now. He didn’t know what to do. This wasn’t what he’d planned. He and Isabella were just supposed to snuggle their new baby now; he wasn’t supposed to trail after the doctor carrying his son back to the chicken oven where medical staff had set up several tools next to an incubation bed. Just the sight of that was terrifying and known. It meant something was really wrong.

Jungkook barely held himself together as the baby was braced again and the doctor slid an actual camera this time down the tiny throat. Jungkook wanted to push them all away but was frozen with the terror of it. What did it mean if the baby didn’t have enough oxygen? He didn’t understand in a real way, only that it was bad. What was happening to their baby?

“Faint staining,” the doctor said, looking at a grainy image on the small monitor that meant nothing to Jungkook. He wanted to scream at the awful image of his newborn child with a camera in its mouth. This was wrong, this was a nightmare.

“Very faint though,” she said as she withdrew the tools and set them on a tray for a nurse to carry off. “Let’s recheck APGAR.” Jungkook could only stand there as they ran through a series of questions again –about baby’s skin tone, response to thwacking on the heels, a pulse check, temperature. Jungkook felt like he’d shit himself, he was so anxious, but mindlessly called things over to Isabella before realizing she’d just delivered the placenta. Did he want to see it? No, he told the nurse; how could he care about that when they were listening to his baby’s lungs again? Also, kinda gross…

Suddenly the baby jolted and cried out.

“Ah! Sorry, little one, was that cold?” the doctor grinned and shared a smile with the nurses. She concentrated on listening and nodded, then glanced over her notes as the baby began squirming.

“What’s happening?” Isabella called again. “Someone tell me!”

“Your baby’s APGAR score is improving,” the doctor called back. “That’s good. That’s very good.” She slid her finger along his arm and palm and smiled when little fingers curled around it. “That’s better. That’s better, little one, you’re waking up.”

“Oxygen?” the nurse asked.

“Set up for the chest x ray, let’s do that since I saw the staining but… but these signs are good… come, let’s get baby back to mom for now.”

Jungkook wasn’t thrilled the doctor picked the baby up this time, after the nurses had added a diaper. Something about the diaper seemed wrong, like they were already trying to clean the baby up when he and Isabella just wanted to be with the baby, no diaper needed, just them. He trailed along as the doctor whose name he’d already forgotten returned the baby to Isabella’s chest, offering her a reassuring smile. Isabella looked terrified and Jungkook didn’t know what to do about it. He wasn’t sure his touch would be comforting since it hadn’t been for labor, so he just hovered beside her and watched.

“Good news, mom and dad, baby’s looking a little better. I do see signs of meconium staining on his cords but it’s very, very faint which hopefully means he aspirated very little. The crackle is still in his lungs. This is all very slight but something we want to monitor closely. His heart rate is picking up and his breathing is slowing down, all very good signs. We’ll redo the blood gas in a few hours as well but there’s a balance to strike between making sure he’s supported and not being too aggressive with anything that will tax his little lungs.”

“So what does that mean?” Isabella asked, bless her, because Jungkook didn’t understand a fucking thing.

“It means he is looking better by the minute despite aspirating the meconium so right now I want you to take the time you want to do skin to skin like you are, try to nurse him, just love on him. But we will want to watch him closely for the next few hours and if anything changes, put him on oxygen, so you’re going to see a lot of us until we’re sure he’s all right.”

“Should we do that right now?” Isabella asked. “I don’t want to hold off just for my sake–”

“No no, I promise I would not risk anything. Right now the best thing is for him to be surrounded by you and watched. When you sleep though, we will want to take him to the nursery for close watch, ok?”

“I’m here,” Jungkook reminded. “I can watch him while she sleeps.”

The doctor smiled and agreed, “Yes, absolutely. I will explain the things to watch. But both of you should rely on medical staff while you are here to get the rest you need to take care of him at home. We may have him stay here a couple extra days.”

“In the NICU?” Isabella asked.

“I don’t think he needs NICU as of now, we’ll just keep watching. He is seeming stronger by the minute, we just want to make sure we’re quick to react if that changes. See, he’s rooting, that’s a good sign too.”

Jungkook couldn’t help but feel like she’d tossed a bucket of stress over them. He watched the baby with more anxiety than fascination as Isabella went through the motions of stroking his face and pressing her nipple into his mouth –something that seemed old hand to her after two kids but Jungkook thought was pretty fascinating. The pediatric doctor remained to watch too, a whole party of nurses as well, but Isabella didn’t seem to mind the audience.

“Is it bad?” he asked her quietly, hoping she would know more and could give him an answer.

“I don’t know… he looks so perfect… I think if it was really bad they’d have him on oxygen so they’re just watching…” She looked nervous. Conflicted. He resented that the doctor had interfered with their joy. He felt like worry was making him miss everything.

“Ready to move her to a room?” a nurse at the door called.

Jungkook trailed after them, not sure how he was supposed to fix any of this and angry that they hadn’t had more than a minute to bask in each others presence after birth and terrified that a big hand was going to suddenly reach down and steal his son away before he even got to know him.

The baby had been born shortly after seven o’clock in the morning. It was weird to get messages from family members about delivering the kids to school, about work, wanting to know when they could visit and asking for pictures. Jungkook hadn’t even taken pictures during labor or immediately after the baby was born. Another failure. He tried to make up for it in the room, snapping photos of Isabella exhausted but mooning over the baby, the baby snuggled against her chest, the baby trying to nurse because Isabella said that was fine to photograph.

Eomma and Appa came by right away and couldn’t believe a whole baby had been born in such a short period of time. Soona came too, and Gina. They all fluttered around Isabella and the baby and Jungkook was glad to have something to do, taking pictures, fetching Isabella water and food, reciting the things the doctors had said even though they didn’t make sense to him. He wished he could believe everyone’s assurances that the baby would be fine, but they didn’t know.

Soona went with him for the baby’s x-ray because he insisted, needing to feel like he was doing something for his baby. His sister was a doctor, no one would refuse to answer her questions, and Soona would tell him what they were really saying. It was all so scary. It didn’t matter that the doctors were saying things were improving, there was still that crackle in his lungs, and they decided to start him on antibiotics because he was running a fever, and Jungkook worried worried worried. A newborn baby shouldn’t run even a small fever! He was glad to have his big sister there to ask the right questions.

It was several hours before family left to let Isabella rest before more family would come by later. Jungkook nodded seriously when Eomma told him to be firm if they wanted fewer visitors –that was another thing he could do. But he knew Isabella would want the kids to come by and meet their brother as soon as they were out of school. He hoped the baby would be healthy and strong enough; it wasn’t risky, right? And–

“Jungkook.” He went at her call in an instant, leaning down on the side of the bed. “You’re worried,” she so wisely detected.

“Yeah.”

“But he’s doing ok,” she said.

“Shouldn’t they put him on oxygen just to be sure?” Jungkook asked. He’d made the mistake of looking up on his phone what it meant to aspirate meconium in a quiet moment. Low oxygen at birth could cause all sorts of brain trauma. They might not even see it for months or years. He might seem fine now but then get worse later.

“Koo.”

“Hm?”

“Snuggle down with me.” She shuffled over as best she could in the bed, and he kicked his shoes off before balancing on it with her, not trusting it would hold them both until it did. The baby had fallen asleep on her chest, sound asleep, mouth open, perfectly at peace.

“What if he’s got brain damage?” Jungkook whispered, afraid the baby would hear.

“Then we do whatever he needs,” she said. “But it wasn’t much meconium. It’s light staining. His blood gas wasn’t bad.”

“But–”

“I know,” she murmured. “Everything is so scary. Everything can go wrong and they’re so little and you feel so helpless to do anything. I feel that terror too. But look at him. He’s here, and he’s strong, I can tell.”

Jungkook had to admit the baby did look healthy and peaceful. He looked less blue and more like a little plump puffy baby. He didn’t even seem to be having a hard time breathing right now; his whole chest didn’t convulse like it had off and on all morning.

“Is he breathing?” Jungkook suddenly gasped.

“He’s breathing. I can feel it. He’s just content right now,” Isabella said. “He’s good.”

“He’s good,” Jungkook repeated.

“We have a baby.”

“We have a baby,” Jungkook repeated, then added, “And I only cried a little. There wasn’t time to cry.”

“I know. That was scary but… but it’s quiet now.”

It was. It was so quiet and peaceful. Isabella was a beast and seemed to have come through labor as if it was nothing, which he did not understand.

“How are you feeling?” he asked her, realizing he hadn’t in a few minutes.

“I’m still fine, Koo,” she laughed. “Puffy and sore. They’re going to come tell me to try and pee soon and I’ll probably cry about that. I don’t want to get out of bed.”

“You should rest. You… did a lot.”

“You think?” she giggled.

He stroked her face to get her to look up so he could kiss her and finally his touch seemed welcome. He hadn’t had time to entertain the fear it would be permanent, that space she wanted, but it was gone now anyway, just a figment of labor. He could feel she was sleepy by the low energy of her kiss, warm and soft and lazy.

“It’s so different,” she murmured.

“What is?” he asked. He kissed her forehead, his hand dropping down to rest against the lump of the baby because he needed to be part of this joyful love too. Whatever happened, the baby was loved and wanted and Isabella was right, they would figure out whatever he needed if something did go wrong later on.

“This part,” she answered. “It’s so weird. When Ezra was born, I almost felt bad for Landon because I just had this instant connection with the baby, he was mine and… and I think Landon felt very left out. He didn’t know what to do.”

“I don’t know what to do.”

“You’re amazing, Koo. When he was first born and the doctor had him over there and I didn’t know what was happening but you were there.”

“Doing nothing.”

“Being there. When Lily was born, you know it was just the two of us, me and her, and that felt right too. I would have liked to have a partner there but not Stig. He didn’t belong in that moment with me, meeting my daughter. She was never his. And this time… honestly, I was kind of afraid I would resent you being here.”

“Resent me like… being present at all?”

“I’ve never been someone’s wife. I’ve never had a partner the way you are. Just… people who interfere, Landon, Stig… failures as parents… I was a little afraid the baby would be born and I would just want him in my arms and everyone to go away, even you.”

Jungkook swallowed. It wasn’t like he hadn’t had similar fears but it was terrifying to hear Isabella admit them. She’d fought so hard to protect and raise her children, and he’d never done this before, he fully expected his bumbling might make her defensive.

“But seeing you hold him, it feels the same as if I’m holding him,” she said. “There’s nowhere in the world our kids are safer than with you.”

Relief flooded Jungkook’s body.

“I’m so glad you’re here, Koo. Labor sucks and I couldn’t have done this again without you.”

“You seemed to do just fine,” he mumbled, abashed by her affection.

“I know I didn’t want much touching but… but you were here. And you listened when I said something and you nearly shoved that elderly couple out of the elevator so I could get in–”

“I thought you were going to have the baby in the hall,” he chuckled. “They thought so too, everyone was jumping out of the way.”

“I almost did!”

“It went faster than I thought it would.”

“Me too. My perineum isn’t happy about it.”

“Ah, the tearing…”

“Let’s not talk about it.”

“I’ll still eat there all the same but–”

“Jungkook!”

“We’ll wait until you’re all healed up and then I’ll take care of things,” he assured her, overjoyed by her scandalized glare.

“You just watched a child emerge from my vagina. I would think that’d cool your engines for a while–”

“No way. You’re so cool, Bella.”

“Here, take him.”

“Oh do you need–”

“No, just you hold him now. I bet he won’t even wake up, he’s so out. Maybe he’s going to be a heavy sleeper like you.”

“Is that bad?” he asked.

“Having a baby who sleeps well would be the greatest blessing.” He was barely listening to her because she’d started to drag the baby towards him, the whole little burrito. At the last second Jungkook recalled all the conversation about skin to skin and yanked his shirt over his head and tossed it away.

“What are you doing?”

“Uh… they said that uh, skin to skin with dad is–”

“You’re so cute,” she grinned, and dumped the baby burrito onto his chest. He was so warm Jungkook thought he must still have a fever though the nurse’s said the fever was gone. His hands and feet were now a healthy pink that Jungkook hadn’t even known to hope for.

He adjusted the little one against his chest –who, as Isabella suspected, barely stirred. His face rubbed against Jungkook’s pec and for a second he thought the baby was rooting and would wake up, but he just relaxed and slumbered on.

“What a lucky baby to have two parents with big tits,” Isabella mused.

“I’ll scream if he goes for my nipple.”

“Count on it.”

Jungkook’s laugh trailed off. He was too mesmerized. Dark hair peeked out from beneath the cap, feathery soft over little skin rolls at the back of his neck. He wasn’t swaddled, just draped with a blanket, his little body curled up like he’d probably been inside Isabella. He was so, so new, so fresh. Jungkook knew within weeks, months, years this baby was going to turn into a little person but it was hard to believe right now. Jungkook slid his thumb into the little fist, long papery fingernails barely a scratch against his skin. He had that feeling again he’d had earlier: I am complete, my family is complete. I’ve been waiting for you and now everything is good.

“Maybe we should have let Ezra and Lily skip school so they could come sooner,” Jungkook said. “It feels wrong they haven’t met him yet.”

“They’ll meet him soon and have every day with him. Enjoy the quiet now.”

“That’s true… I just miss them…”

“What are we going to introduce him by?”

“What do you mean?”

“What should we name him, Jungkook,” she snickered, and kissed his shoulder. He kissed the side of her head, briefly again distracted by how amazing she was to have delivered a fucking baby and now just be hanging out talking to him like it was no big deal. She hadn’t even cried. He’d cried from constipated shits before and now she was asking him what they should name this baby she had made?

“We had that list of names.”

“You choose.”

“What?!”

“You pick his name,” she said again. “As long as it’s not something I hate. No Wolf.”

“But you gave birth…”

“And you’re his dad. I got to name our first two.”

Jungkook studied the little face pressed to his chest. He tried to fit a name to this person, but how? Nothing fit. He was a brand new baby, a blank slate. There was no personality yet to tag a name onto, only a little potato with a head of dark hair and a history of scaring the shit out of his parents from the first minute.

But there actually was a name on the list that had seemed familiar to him from the moment he’d written it down. Isabella had not seemed to react any particular way to it, but she hadn’t struck it out, and he’d been almost afraid to point it again in case she didn’t like it. He wasn’t sure where he’d even heard it, it had just lodged in his brain.

“Kai,” he said.

“Kai?” she repeated. “Kai Jeon?”

“It sounds cool, right?” he asked hopefully.

“It sounds like a manga character,” she said, then grinned. “The protagonist. I like it.”

“Really?”

“Ezra, Lily, and Kai. It sounds good together.”

“Yeah, I thought so too!”

“So you’ve thought about this.”

“I just liked the name… OK, and what about Ronin for the middle name? The ronin were samurais who no longer served a master or family, only themselves… kind of like wandering knights… That’s cool, right? Ah, too geeky?”

“Kai Ronin Jeon sounds cool.”

“And it’s kind of like Ezra Ryan and Lily Eleanor… and Kai Ronin… it sounds good, like you said.”

“Yeah.”

“Cool. Hi, Kai. You are going to have a way easier time learning to spell your name than I did so you’re welcome,” Jungkook murmured, patting the little cushy diapered butt. “Kai.” He felt a joy course through him. Yes, the name was right, he felt it in his heart. The baby was right. The family was right. The woman was definitely right.

He wanted to say that, to tell her how much this meant to him, to tell her that he recognized the miracle it had taken for them to be together like this and married and having a baby, and that she had done most of the work. He wanted to tell her he would never take this for granted, that she’d been willing to do it all one more time with him even though the last times had been so hard for her.

What came out was, “Hey I look pretty good for a dad of three, huh?”

“If you weren’t holding him, I would push you off the bed.”

“You look banging as a mom of three–”

“Jungkook–”

“Your tits are…” He trailed off, realizing they were definitely getting bigger. He’d know. He studied them carefully.

“Yeah, I think my milk is coming in faster this time, so he better have an appetite. I can’t believe he’s over nine pounds…”

“Yeah, is that good?”

“It’s big.”

“Is it? I don’t know baby sizes. He seems bigger than my nieces and nephews were.”

“It’s big.”

“He’s strong,” Jungkook decided.

“I think it’s mostly his head. He got your head.”

“Wha? I have a normal sized head.”

“Tell that to my fourteen stitches.”

“Is it really fourteen?!”

“I don’t know, I made that up, I wasn’t listening –he’s awake.”

Jungkook’s gaze snapped immediately down to the little face, to the little dark eyes cracking open. His brow and mouth were scrunched, making him look very grumpy to get woken up.

“Oh hey look at that scowl, he’s definitely yours, Bella–”

“I swear to god, Jungkook.”

“Ah, I think he’s doing that breathing thing again,” Jungkook frowned as the baby began to breathe with his whole chest again. “I’ll give him to you to nurse and get a nurse to check him again.”

“You think we should?” Isabella asked and Jungkook was floored by the question, by the way she looked up at him, by the trust he felt from her. She was the one who’d had babies before! But she was relying on him as the father to help make sure their baby was ok. That Kai was ok.

“Yeah. I’d rather check too much and annoy the nurses than wait too long if he needs oxygen, right? I’m sure he’s fine but I’ll get the nurse.” He felt puffed up with the responsibility of it as he gently eased Kai over to Isabella. Kai let out a cry of complaint, just a little single yowl, and Jungkook’s heart skipped a beat.

“You like me already, huh?”

“Your tits are better,” Isabella teased.

“Definitely not true, sugar butt. I’ll be back.” He said it just to get her huff of annoyance at the saccharine pet name. Good. He loved Isabella grumpy with affection. He loved her needing him and trusting him and pulling him close when it would be so easy for her to push him away in her exhaustion and fear over their baby.

He hadn’t felt like it wasn’t true, but he felt for sure now that they were in this together. Maybe that was partly where the sense of completeness came from, not just from holding Kai and feeling like his family was complete, but this bone-deep proof now that he was Isabella’s –to have, to hold, to rely on– in a way he thought he never could be.

He went off to bother the nurses again, gladly, because there was nothing he wouldn’t do for his wife and kids.

Isabella felt it too: that connection, that worry, that relief, that wholeness.

Kai would be all right, she believed it because she had to, and because he had his daddy to take over when Isabella couldn’t. It didn’t matter if Jungkook didn’t come into this with the parenting history she did. He was Kai’s dad, and he wouldn’t quit until he got it right, until Kai had whatever he needed –just like he had with Ezra, and Lily, and Isabella.

Kai was perfect, just as both her other children had been. She had the most wonderful children in the world, and any of her fears that blending a family would be hard vanished when she held Kai. He belonged here, and Ezra and Lily would feel it too, just like they had with Jungkook even before she did.

Jungkook came back, chatting animatedly with the nurse. He’d been up all night with her once the labor pains started, trailing her like a duckling as she paced the house, timing them because she was impatient and couldn’t remember to do it, bringing her ice water, keeping his distance when she said she needed space, jumping to her side when she needed someone to lean on.

“I think Kai needs a new diaper,” she shared as Jungkook and the nurse reached her. She peeked in the back of the diaper to confirm because these early meconium poops were odorless and easy, but she’d sensed it in the way he had just curled and relaxed. She was right. Maybe some of this baby stuff would come back to her, more easily than she had feared.

Jungkook stretched his arms out, cracking his knuckles, then beamed, “All right, let’s get diaper duty started, huh? We’re going to ease into this, right, Kai? Start me off with some non-threatening stuff, yeah?”

Jungkook’s gasps of horror at the tarry stools a moment later had Isabella suppressing the laughter, her body too sore for this kind of thing.

God, every time she didn’t think she could possibly love Jungkook anymore than she already did, she found she could.

----------------------------------------

There are more Amended drabbles on my masterlist or read the main story here

#dad jungkook #stepdad jungkook #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook fluff #jungkook fanart #jeon jungkook x oc #jeon jungkook fanfic #bts fluff #jk x oc #jk fanfic #amended #bts dad au

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romanticoutcast · 9 months ago

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i haven’t posted dad stuff in a minute

#im jk there is no Brawl tom is a good dad i swear. but also he makes mistakes and he’s still too proud for his own good sometimes #modern au #family stuff #mydoodles #tom sawyer #huck finn #huckleberry finn #twain tag

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prostocupoftea · 11 months ago

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fellas we have breached containment

#sorry for shitpost i am just happy with all the interactions #mom dad im popular on da web !!!#they will be so happy to know what i do instead of work/styding B)#/jk my mom proofreads my au. shes cool. she also said that she'd read that so already a mark of quality B)

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goawayloser · 2 years ago

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Maybe I’m shouting out into the void but I’m hoping someone will read this and know what I’m talking about lmao

OK SO, I’m looking for a JK fic college au, and he’s a cat dad … I started reading it and I can’t remember the title or author 😭 help a girl out! It was so good !!

#jk #jk cat dad #jk smut #jeon jungkoooook #jungkook #bts #college au #help meeee #army please

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fakeusernamelol · 3 months ago

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I GOT THIS IDEA STUCK IN MY HEAD PLEASE HEAR ME OUT (tw for Transphobia, Misogyny and Noncon. Ford's a huge shit here sorry 😶‍🌫️)

Stanley came out as a trans man in his teenhood but nobody in his family, including ford, accepted him. Let's be honest It's the 60s and stanley kinda expected it 🤷 but he didn't expected that ford would also reject his identity, but also reacted so roughly towards that.

Ford saw that as a huge waste of potential and that pissed him a lot, how could his sister do that? She was a beauty! She had a sensual and beautiful body with round and wide hips, a prominent breast, and a soft and round face with big lips and long eyelashes that highlighted her femininity. Any man with half a brain (included him) could see how of appetizing stanley was but now she wanted to ruined it!

He was very annoyed his sister continued with that crap of trying to stop being called by her real name and instead being called «stanley» and pretending to be a man, he got angrier that she started to use more manly jeans instead of those cute shorts that highlighted her beautiful chubby thighs or that skirts that the breeze of the sea raised occasionally, he noticed how she was using tighter bras to compress her chest a bit but the last straw that ended with ford's tolerance was when he caught stanley cutting his beautiful long hair in the bathroom. Stanley ended up killing the beautiful woman she was and Ford couldn't stand it, he can't let his sister ruin herself anymore, he needed to make her come to her senses again before she tried anything else.

Ford was a man of words wasn't he? But sometimes words aren't enough, he needed to make sure stanley knew that she wasn't that man she was saying he was, that she was a beautiful woman made for him a lucky man to have a family with just like any other woman. And knowing none of their parents wouldn't complain because they also weren't according to stanley's stupid ideas, he was going to make a favour to all.

«Look at you darling, No man would have a body like yours, you were made to carry beautiful babies, our babies.

You were made for me, [ ]. You love me, don't you? If you do,

Stop hurting yourself with this, stop allucinating. »

Stanley could just sob while begging ford to stop touching him, to stop saying those things to him while he was shamelessly groping his body and thrusting himself inside stanley roughly in the bathroom floor. The pain wasn't only physical, Ford was the most important person in his life, he loved his brother like no one else in the world but why was his dear brother doing this to him, why was he hurting him? why can't he accept him? Is that how he had always secretly saw him all this time? Did he deserve it? He shouldn't have said nothing. When Ford's finished, stanley was clear that he was never going to call himself a man again.

#stancest #teen stancest #stancest prompts #SORRY NOT SORRY #😗😗😗#jk I'm sorry i love stanley suffering #and trans men suffering #is this a way to cope with things yes maybe definitely????#teen dads au: bad ending edition

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kkukverse · 3 months ago

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i want a new stories from daily life w husband!jk n oc🥺

okay okay, i will. he is so famous hahaha i will, i just got back from a holiday, and i am more motivated than ever, seeing my work got plagiarized! soon soon.

i will post it as mini series, their parenting journey and all that, i just need to edit and fluff 'em up

#pyhoms couple #dad!jk #parents au #anon #replied

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muniimyg · 6 months ago

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⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ bbydaddy!jk (16) ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹

series m.list // taglist request closed

note: please prioritize your mental health and peace if the following content is too heavy for you. this portion of the plot has a lot of angst, and arguing. overall contains sensitive topics. thank you all for waiting so well for the break-up reveal!

tw: mentions of anxiety/stress/insomnia/ and postpartum depression,, early pregnancy loss (5 weeks), and self-neglect.

🏷️ permanent taglist:

@joonsjuice @pamzn @defzcl @maryy1300 @whoa-jo @taetaecatboy @jksusawife @un06 @firesighgirl @rrosiitas @butterymin @parkinglot-nights @musicjournalsjdb @kissyfacekoo @jkslvsnella @vampcharxter @bloopkook @somehowukook @bbystarcandykoo

"so... jungkook moved back in, he bought you a new car, and this entire time you've been broken up—you've been sleeping with him?"

it feels stupid to confess everything to your therapist.

you’ve been avoiding this for 9 months now.

today it has to be settled.

it has to be over.

this feeling in the pit of your stomach that makes you want to throw up over and over again until you have nothing left inside of you. your lips tighten at the way your therapist blinks at you. you've never really been able to read her, but maybe that's what you like so much about her.

sometimes, it's nice not to know and just to take what people say as they are.

"he's not actually moved back in... he just has more closet space."

your therapist notes something down on her pad. then, she looks at you and simply comments, "i see... is that all you think it is? more closet space?"

"y-yes? n-no... no. okay, it's not like we're not back together though..." you begin to explain yourself.

"but you've been sleeping with him the entire time you guys have been broken up?"

you make a face.

your therapist tilts her head and lets out a light sigh.

"i'm not judging. you two are adults. you both have needs. you both need each other. you both love each other. i'm just clarifying that—"

"okay, yes," you yield. "i have been sleeping with my babydaddy but haven’t gotten back together with him... i mean—we kind of are? to be fair, the break-up wasn’t a real break-up... it just grew into one. i take the blame for the dumping because i was the one who pulled away. so inevitably, i can't help but feel like a villain in all of it... am i? am i the villain? zion had this whole thing about what family is like, a home with another kid from his daycare, and it... it made me feel so guilty. jungkook and i talked about it and worked on it... i know he doesn't blame me, but every time i bring myself closer to... what do i even call this? ... forgiving him? forgiving myself? i d-don't know... all i know is that... every time i want to move on and just be happy—with him. with zion... with my life—i can't find it in me. i pull away, and it hurts everyone around us. sometimes, i wonder if they know it hurts me too."

"what does that mean?" she asks, her tone soft and curious. "good job getting that off your chest. you're doing great, ___."

mumbling a 'thank you,' you sigh and shrug your shoulders. honestly, you can’t think. your mind goes blank. she then sits up, fixing her posture. leaning forward, she makes her observation.

"___, you broke up with jungkook 9 months ago because of the circumstances. sure, he was supportive and understanding, but sometimes, when everything gets too much, the only person who can fix you is yourself. ___, it was a lot. it was heavy. one thing I've noticed about you is that you think and speak as if everything has to be this big thing. you know your emotions are bigger than the problem, yet you suppress them. it's okay to feel them because when you don't, you start to lose yourself. sometimes, it sounds to me like you want to burn the room down for people to empathize with you... for people to see you. for you to see yourself even."

"i don't want to burn anything down—"

"it's an analogy," she explains. "the truth is, for you, being burned out isn’t a thing until you can’t get out of bed. burnout is as simple as not wanting coffee anymore. sometimes, it's losing yourself to stress and anxiety... and people see that. jungkook, your friends, and your parents saw it. you don’t have to prove it. ___, you can’t keep pushing yourself until you can’t run anymore. you have to slow down. you have to let yourself be tired and learn how to rest."

you nod, agreeing with her take. then, you make another confession.

"i understand that," you take a deep breath. "but it’s like… before i knew it, i was upset and unfit for our relationship. i screwed up too early. that's why i broke up with him... but now... i don’t know. the guilt and blame keep pointing in different directions. i don’t know what i'm doing, and i can't do that. i can't not know when it comes to the father of my child and the love of my life."

your therapist purses her lips and offers you a small smile.

"then, ___... is it possible that things are better now? that it's more than his clothes in your home? that the room isn’t burning anymore? is it that maybe... finally, you’re realizing that being tired and burnt out is a part of life? ___, you’ve done nothing but get everything right since your childhood... to let your feelings—good or bad—be true and big isn’t a flaw. it’s you being human."

her words hit you, but not enough to stop your insecurities. with shaky eyes, you ask her, "w-what if i do it again?"

"do what again? burnout?"

"what if i fuck up everything about my life again? my career? motherhood? jungkook and i’s relationship? it hurt so bad... to wake up next to my family and not feel anything. it was so fucking hard... i couldn’t even pretend that i was okay. a-and when i asked for some air... he wasn’t even mad at me. he packed his bags and lost his breath from crying so much. at the door, he asked me if i was sure... and even though i wasn’t; i said yes...." you explain, your voice growing quieter with each word.

suddenly, everything feels so heavy.

if there was ever a time to understand and relate to the feeling of the world being on your shoulders... this would be that moment. taking a breath, you compose yourself.

"i can’t do that again," you vow. "i can’t change my mind."

"you can’t change your mind again or you can’t hurt like that again?"

you pause.

"9 months ago, my mind kept going back and forth whether or not jungkook cared about me," you confess. "but i recently realized he does. he has. he always will... i just don’t know if i can trust him the same as before... i think i’m a horrible person for thinking that. weird, right? especially with how fucking horrible i am to him now."

"that’s not true." your therapist disagrees. "___, it was traumatic. you went through a lot—"

"—and i will never understand how he held himself together. when he was accused of plagiarism at his company, i took those accusations and sued until jungkook’s name was spotless. it was hard on both of us. he didn’t want me to go that far because they were his coworkers—his ‘friends’—but why... why was he so pathetic then? those people were out to ruin him. they quit the company and went to jyp. they proposed work that belonged to jungkook... it was a conflict of interest! when jungkook launched his work with hybe, jyp accused him of plagiarism. hybe cut ties with him and his company gave him so much shit for losing hybe. and i, his girlfriend and mother of his child, risked my career to focus on his case instead of my clients. i chose him. i did everything to fight for him. then, he told me he wanted to settle and stay at the company... i couldn’t believe it... he had his reputation on the line—his career! mine was too and all for what? because he didn’t want to embarrass his friends? because he didn’t want to cause the company more trouble? then, what about me? what about us?"

your therapist looks at you with sincere eyes. she nods, taking your words in.

"___, does he know you’re still upset with his decision?"

"yes," you sigh, recalling how betrayed you felt. "w-we don’t talk about it. how do we? it felt like i wasted 2 months of my life and we lost our—we lost."

your therapist reaches over and offers you the tissue box. you didn’t even realize you were crying... but the silence between you two and the ache from the words that you just said begins to sting your chest.

after a few moments, your therapist softly tells you, "___, i don’t think you left him because you didn’t love him... i think you left because, despite everything, you did. that hurt because it meant loving him and putting him before yourself... on top of that, you were at a state where you should have been put first."

you gulp.

she purses her lips and makes her hit.

"___, do you resent yourself for the loss?"

you clench your fist as your therapist rubs salt into your open wounds. "the self-neglect? the stress? the post-partum depression? the insomia—"

"i resent myself for the loss," you admit. "... and i resent jungkook for losing me."

when you arrive home, jungkook is in the kitchen cooking.

you didn’t expect him to be home. he was supposed to be picking zion up at this time and you were looking forward to some alone time. clearly, you have a lot to think about. as you take off your shoes, jungkook turns his attention to you.

“hi honey,” he smiles brightly.

truth be told, he had a long day. he was running late this morning and had rushed out the door. as he drove to work, he got annoyed with himself.

he forgot to kiss you before he left.

so you can imagine just how excited he is to see you now… especially with all he has planned for tonight.

“we had a meeting today and it ended early. it went really well so i have some news! also, i picked zion up right after my meeting. took him out for a little father-and-son afternoon... then, i dropped him off at your parents—”

“why would you do that?” you snap, putting your things away.

jungkook chuckles. “uh, maybe because i wanna ask you something tonight…”

your body stiffens.

“but we’ll get to that later! do you want to eat first? i’m cooking your favorite—”

“please stop,” you shut your eyes and take a breath. “jungkook, i had a long day. i’m glad yours was good and you got to bond with zion. i appreciate the effort—i just don’t… i don’t like that you dropped zion off at my parents after picking him up early from daycare. why didn’t you just take him home? and thank you for cooking... but i had a late lunch today, so i’m not hungry.”

“is it so bad i want to spend time with you alone?” jungkook asks, his smile fading.

jungkook isn’t stupid.

he knows you’re not in the mood, but he can’t help but push your boundaries a little. besides, communication is always good, right? at least, that’s what he’s been told.

“it’s okay if you don’t want to eat... as long as you ate today. what did you eat?” he attempts.

you move past jungkook as he asks you the question. taking out your phone, you check for any missed messages. jungkook’s eyebrows furrow as you ignore him. he catches your waist and guides you against the kitchen counter. grabbing your phone from your hands, he puts it aside.

“woah,” he pouts. “what’s up? why are you acting like this?”

you look at jungkook and hate yourself. his eyes are so kind and full of love.

you know it.

you feel it.

it hurts so bad.

“what’s with the mood?” he asks, more gently this time.

jungkook moves his hands from your waist to wrap around you. he nuzzles himself into the crook of your neck and hugs you tightly. “if you’re mad at me about something, that’s okay... but be angry here. don’t ignore me. being angry together is better than not being together at all.”

his plea makes your eyes tear up.

this isn’t easy for you either, but to be honest... it’s now or never. tonight, your heart feels especially heavy. you can’t blame it. some people say time heals all wounds—perhaps, this is it.

this is the time limit.

“can i tell you my news?” he asks, partly trying to stall the conversation and partly because it was good news.

“sure.”

“i got a job offer,” jungkook says. “i’d have to do an informal interview but it’s basically mine if i want it. they’re setting up a branch in new york. they want me to go there for 3-6 months and help start everything up. guide and mentor the visual director there—”

“that’s amazing—”

“i don’t want it,” jungkook chuckles. “they told me to sleep on it and make my decision in a month. until then, they offered me a raise! isn’t that great?”

your smile drops.

all of the feelings you’ve been trying to regulate since you stepped out of your therapist's office today feel like they’ve gone out the window. was he serious? he declined such a big step in his career—for a raise?

“jungkook,” you croak. “do you know why we broke up?”

he pulls away.

what a fucking switch up. he doesn’t understand.

for a moment, he doesn’t know what to do with his hands. does he reach out to hold yours or keep them by his side? he’s caught off guard. he doesn’t know how to answer you and frankly, he fucking hates this question.

“uh, why are you asking me—”

“what was the other thing?” you ask, already suspecting it. “are you going to ask me to marry you tonight?” you blurt.

he shoves his hand in his pocket.

“jungkook, are you asking me to marry you tonight? yes or no?”

he blinks at you.

his heart is prepared more than ever; “yes.”

“don’t.”

jungkook’s heart drops.

“don’t because you’re saying no or don’t because you want a better proposal?” he attempts to lighten the mood with a smile. he takes his hands out of his pocket and reaches for yours. you don’t let him take it. instead, you shake your head.

“don’t because you don’t even know why we’re broken up.”

instantly, the tension between you two increases. it’s through the roof, actually. it feels like one wrong word, one wrong move, one wrong recalled memory—everything crumbles.

everything fails.

everything faces the end.

“___, i can’t answer your question because i’m not prepared to. honestly, i wasn’t prepared for the break-up. it just happened. it grew into one. ___, you never said, ‘jungkook, it’s over. we’re broken up.’ ... no. you said, ‘jungkook... i can’t breathe anymore. i need air. i need space from us,’ — that’s what you said. but to hell with that, right? we’ve been sleeping together and it’s not like we hate each other. you love me. i know you do... so i really don’t understand why you won’t marry me despite knowing the simple truth—”

you move away from him.

god, it’s so hard to be next to him sometimes.

heading to the cabinets, you take out a glass and pour yourself some water. drinking it, you hear jungkook sigh and groan in frustration.

“are we really going to fight tonight?” he asks, annoyed.

you shrug and put your water down. “shouldn’t we? it’s kind of overdue.”

jungkook scratches the back of his head. his lips tighten and his mind is already dizzy as he asks;

“___, why did you break up with me?”

a beat.

“i wanted more from you.”

he looks at you confused. “the fuck does that mean? sex?”

you shake your head.

“jungkook, i was moving up with my career. you were constantly annoyed that i was overworking myself and that i only cared about zion. you were always mad at me when i brought up work—especially about yours. you didn’t want more. you refused the promotions and all the different leadership roles. you refused more hours—you refused to grow… just like now.”

jungkook huffs. “is this about money again? we’ve never had issues providing for zion and this lifestyle.”

“again?” you chuckle. “honey, it wasn’t about the money. at least to me, it wasn’t. i love you and would have married you regardless of my career path and yours—”

“then why won’t you marry me? you always say you will but you say shit like this. you know it fucks me up, right? this isn’t fair. you can’t keep changing your mind.”

“it’s not that i don’t know what you are to me and what i want,” you take a deep breath. it feels painful to be right. “it’s that marrying you isn’t going to make any of this easier. at least, not right now.”

his eyes are filled with hope.

hope that maybe the reason is childish and not what he knows it really is. he hopes it’s because he left one too many socks inches away from the laundry hamper in your bedroom. he hopes it’s because you got tired of him always queuing his karaoke songs in the car before yours. he hopes it’s because (not really) you actually took an interest in nam joon or something.

most of all, he hopes it’s not what he knows it is.

“jungkook, we were disagreeing on everything. you thought i was greedy for wanting more for myself—for our family—”

“so it’s about whether or not i accept the job offer? i still have a month to think about it. i can’t just leave you and zion. you get that, right? i don’t just leave.” jungkook scoffs in disbelief. “and you act like i didn’t just get promoted. i accepted it, didn’t i? i did so to impress you because i love you. i did it to win you back because i love you.”

“but why didn’t you do it for yourself?” you fuse. “why can’t you want more for yourself?”

“___, i love you—”

you hiss, taking a step away from him. “stop saying you love me when you—”

“when i what?” jungkook steadies his tone. “when i made a decision that you didn’t like? ___, i made a practical choice back then. what other option did i have?”

“you chose wrong,” you cry. “is that what you’ve been waiting for me to say? jungkook, you chose wrong because you were afraid! it wasn’t practical. it was safe. you took the settlement, forgave those friends, and looked stupid while doing it. meanwhile, i risked everything. i fucking fought for you! for what? jungkook, it ruined us.”

jungkook shifts, taking a step closer to you. he runs his hands through his hair and groans.

“___, they have a family too. they fucked up and they apologized. i didn’t go through with the lawsuit because regardless if they deserved it—their families didn’t. their children didn’t. for fucks sake, one of them has a daughter zion’s age—”

a sob escapes your lips.

jungkook’s shoulders slump as he lowers his head. you lower yours too, feeling your tears roll down your cheeks.

“jungkook, i love you,” you weakly admit. “i swear to god, i have never loved anyone more in my life than i have ever loved you. you’re the kindest man i’ve ever met. you empathize with others and put them before your needs. you chased me around like a fucking dog for the last 9 months, completely disregarding any self-respect. truth be told, you gave me a purpose to live. you made me zion’s mom and the love of your life. in so many ways, i don’t deserve you… but i also don’t deserve this. it feels like even when i can't trust you—i still do. it ruins me, jungkook.”

angry, jungkook disagrees.

“what are you fucking talking about—no. don’t say shit like that.”

“you kept me together for so long that i don’t know how to fall apart if you’re not around. jungkook, i had to fall apart. i was so tired then. i was so unhappy and everything you did to hold me together only angered me. it lit this fire inside of me and i felt like i couldn’t touch anything or anyone… why couldn’t you just be sad with me?”

“you fell apart before i could even process what happened—” he recalls, tears threatening his eyes. “___, i was devastated beyond belief. i was sad too. i was afraid too. you don’t think i wanted to cry in bed all day with you? i had to get up. i had to take care of zion and i’m sorry if i held onto you tighter than i should have—but i had to. there was no other way i could’ve lived if i didn’t hold on to you like that. you’re my air. i love you, ___ and in case you didn’t know; it hurt me too. losing our—h-holy fuck. i love you. ___, i love you. please, i love you so much—”

you sob.

you don’t even try to hold yourself together. a heavy cry escapes your lips and jungkook instantly lifts his head and comes to you. he wraps you in his arms as you cry into them.

“i love you,” you whimper. “i don’t blame you for it—really, i don’t. b-but why did you stay? i worked so hard and you chose to stay. i stressed myself out and couldn’t sleep. i felt so betrayed and i wasn’t eating—”

“i know, i know,” he murmurs, holding back his sobs. “i hate myself for it. it was my fault—”

“don’t—”

you pull away and hit his chest.

your eyes sting from all the crying and your throat feels dry. yet, every fiber inside of you feels like it’s on fire. it feels like you’re burning down the room and all jungkook wants to do is slow dance in it.

“jungkook, when you settled, it took something from us. something beautiful—our second—our time.” you slow your breathing to gather the courage to say it.

to say everything.

to say it all and maybe, save it all.

“honey, i d-destroyed and hurt more than you did... and i know you don’t blame me; but am i ever going to stop blaming m-myself?” you sob. “i’m pushed into t-this... corner where it’s all my fault—and it is, you know? if i hadn’t stressed myself over your case and just f-focused on making partner at the firm—if i had just i-ignored the f-feeling of the knife you twisted—it was supposed to be this time around.”

jungkook’s heart breaks.

“9 months...” you say, voice trembling.

“don’t say it like that,” jungkook begs. “my love, i didn’t forget.”

that’s just it.

he hasn’t forgotten either.

yet, his body doesn’t ache like yours does. as much as your heart wants to forgive and find beauty in this tragedy—your body hasn’t healed. all those months ago, when you focused on jungkook’s case and stressed yourself to the bone—you made a mistake. you neglected your health to prioritize everything but yourself.

your breath hitches as you recall everything. a part of you feels relieved to have said it all aloud, but inside, it feels like something has burnt up—like a part of you has died.

you reach for him, cupping his cheeks in your hands. jungkook’s tears spill over, and you gently wipe them away with your thumb.

his body collapses into yours. his sobs wrack his chest as he buries his face in your arms.

jungkook cries for the break-up.

for the hurt that’s grown between you two.

he blames himself even though deep down he knows it’s not his fault.

the ache in his chest feels unbearable. you tighten your hold on him, bracing yourself for what comes next, but before you can speak, your body gives in.

everything does dizzy and you hold your breath.

suddenly, your knees hit the floor, and you collapse in front of jungkook, the weight of it all too much to bear.

“i’m s-sorry,” you choke out. "i can't—fuck. i'm so heartbroken, jungkook. i can't—"

jungkook drops down beside you, pulling you into him. as you cling to each other, you feel his heart racing, his breath catching in his sobs, mirroring your own. he holds you tighter, as if he could take all your pain into himself. if he could, you know he would.

and somehow, in the midst of this overwhelming pain, you feel the strangest thing.

this has to be the most painful moment in your entire relationship, but it’s also the most healing.

after nine months of distance, you finally grieve together.

the grief overwhelms you two.

after what feels like an eternity, you manage to compose yourself, pulling away from his embrace. meanwhile, jungkook is still crying heavily. you reach up, cupping his face in your hands again, wiping the tears from his swollen eyes. he leans into your touch, his lips pressing softly against the palm of your hand, his breathing slowly calming down. but then, he moves closer, and you know what’s coming next.

jungkook tries to kiss you.

you push him away gently, your heart breaking all over again.

“... i think you should go home,” you whisper, your voice tired and cracked.

"___, please—"

"we fought enough tonight. i don't have anything left in me, jungkook... just go."

for a moment, silence hangs in the air, thick with everything left unsaid. there's still more. he swears it. he knows it because his heart races with so many more confessions. so many more things he has to tell you.

like the fact that when you cleared his name, he never felt so loved in his life.

like the fact that when you stressed yourself over him and got upset with his decision—he wanted to take everything back.

like the fact that when he let you cry in bed all day over the loss, he cried as he held and fed zion in the living room.

but now is not the time.

now, the hurt aches and he has to let it. he has to let you fall apart. he has to feel this too because if he doesn't—then he misses it all. he misses everything and he can't do that.

he needs to know.

he needs to learn.

he needs to love.

jungkook swallows hard, his voice barely a whisper. “okay… whatever you want.”

you both stand, your movements slow and heavy. you watch as he gathers his belongings, guilt and disappointment twisting in your stomach. at the door, he pauses, eyes closed as he takes a deep breath.

“what about me?”

his voice breaks the stillness. you feel your heart sink.

“what about you?” you ask softly, though you already know the answer.

“___, i don’t want to go,” he pleads, desperation creeping into his voice. “i… i can’t do this. not again.”

“what do you mean?” you force a weak smile. “this is our first break-up.”

“for real?”

you let out a sad laugh, though it holds no real humor.

“for now.”

jungkook takes a second to compose himself.

“i’m gonna pick up zion and have him sleep over at mine... and it’s okay if you’re still full… just eat a late dinner,” he murmurs softly, eyes cast downward. then, turning toward the door, he looks back one last time, his voice soft but filled with emotion.

“for the record, i thought i was home… but if air, space, and time is what you need, so be it. just know, i hope i’m it in the end. i hope i’m what you need.”

they say the 3-year itch is when the sand timer runs out. it takes two people to flip it over and restart the clock. at your 3-year itch with jungkook, suddenly your careers were where you two scratched.

then, the plagiarism accusations came along. as horrible as it was, you thought this was the perfect opportunity to show jungkook how much you love him. how much were you willing to do for him, and how much could your career benefit you two? at the peak of all this, you didn’t know it.

you were carrying more than just work.

at 5 weeks, 1 week after jungkook settled—time was up.

jungkook sits in his car, crying and staring at the ring that should be on your finger. he can’t help but feel all the sides of it. he shoves it back inside the box and opens the glove compartment. throwing it in, he continues to reflect.

was he insensitive? was he so wrong about not wanting to take the job? the proposal was ill-timed, but was he crazy? weren’t you two doing better? … were you hurting all by yourself this entire time? of course, he hurt too. he was just grieving differently… does that make this his fault? he doesn’t know. he doesn’t care. in the end, losing something is still losing something.

truth be told, it’s no one’s fault.

yet, jungkook hits his steering wheel and continues to sob. he wants to blame something. he needs to. as he searches, his heart screams out;

time.

#jungkook angst #jungkook x yn #jungkook fic #bts angst #jungkook scenario #jungkook dilf #bts scenario #bts imagine #bts parent au #bts fic #jungkook dad au #jungkook exes to lovers #jungkook e2l #jk fic rec

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potaetopic · 1 year ago

Text

awh, this is incredible!! the pining, ughh. AND THE MOODBOARD THAT U MADE????

def suits the mood, ugh, I love it!!!

lover’s revenge | kim taehyung ROCKSTAR AU

summary | you dated Taehyung before he made it big, so it was easy to assume he’d forgotten all about you. but for the past two years you’ve been his muse even after your split. a forbidden love that never faded.

warnings | 13.4k words. rockstar!Taehyung x f!reader, BAND AU, smut, angst, bad parenting [your dad hates tae], age gap [18/21, later on 22/25], family problems, break ups, heart ache, mentions of tobacco, smuuut. cock worshipping, cunnilingus, face sitting, oral [m and f], safe sex, soft sex, floor sex, dirty talk but soft,

visuals: Tae’s band plays music like the neighbourhood and cigarettes after sex type shit

2020

He slumped back, hair falling over his face staring at the garage light above him. He was trying his best to listen to his bandmates. They were going on and on about new music, something that'd help them get a deal. He couldn’t be with you anymore, so there was no reason for him to stick around and stall his future. Getting signed was the only way they could see themselves achieving their dreams. He was feeling conflicted though, between wanting to help his bandmates and his feelings.

In reality though he was just scared to bring back old feelings. They weren't even that old, six months that's all he's had to come back to his old self. It was his way of coping actually, repressing his emotions until they no longer bothered him. The first week was the hardest, he couldn't get out of bed or even shower. He couldn't eat and all he wanted to do was sleep, forget everything that had happened. But then anytime he'd go to sleep, his body would ache missing the feeling of someone else in his arms.

The second week it got a littler better. He was responding to his friend's messages again, being more focused on practice, and eating at least one full meal a day. He still aches for your touch but he was able to hide it better behind packs of cigarettes and alcohol late at night. His friends stopped asking him how he was doing and he stopped showing how affected he still was.

As time went on he got better at hiding it. There wouldn’t be any awkward silence when it was his turn to speak, or people walking on egg shells around him. Every now and then when he'd be laughing over something and suddenly he'd struggle to hide his sudden change in emotions. He'd think about your laugh, when you’d laugh so hard that you wouldn't be able to breathe anymore. You would hold your nose, trying to silence yourself from making the screeching noise that came out when you laughed. Or how you’d get cute lines on the side of your eyes. Then he'd think about what made you laugh, and how usually it was because of something you said or did.

So when they asked him to try and write again he was originally distraught. How was he supposed to write songs like how he used to? Writing about love and adolescence but now he couldn't write about that. How was he supposed to write about being in love or feeling happy when he felt the complete opposite.

Anytime he thought about writing he thought about you. How you left him or no, he left you? He could never really understand which but it didn’t matter. He missed your kisses and touches on his skin. The warmth you brought when he'd hold you in his arms late at night after sneaking into your room. Your pretty smile and photogenic features always picture perfect on his cameras. Or their arguments where tears would be running down your face and his voice would become too hoarse because of the constant yelling back and forth.

But he tried writing again, and he couldn't help that all he could write about was you, he just didn't know how much it'd change his life.

It was easier for you, at least during the day. You’d spend all your time studying, paying attention in class, going out with classmates, anything really. If it could distract you long enough to not go through your old pictures, you did it. Your friends didn't ask how you were doing anymore, you were obvious with how you felt. You were better, or at least they thought you were l. Behind your smile you’d find yourself unable to hold back from thinking about him.

How he'd sneak into your room through your window late at night after you would get into a fight, and he'd have the biggest pout on his face trying to butter you up into letting him stay the night after your parents went to sleep, they never liked him. You’d think about how he'd lay on top of you, head rested on your chest as you played with his hair listening to him hum a new sound asking if it was good enough for a song on his mind.

Or when he'd have you sit between his parted legs, arms wrapped around yours, hands holding as he helped you try and find the G on the guitar. He'd kiss your hair when you’d cheer for finally playing something audible even if it was just two simple notes that'd have you giddy between his legs and arms.

It's been six months already, you should be at least a little moved on by now. You’ve started University like your parents wanted. You’ve made new friends, you should be moving on now. You weren’t. He was your first real love. You still thought about him late at night alone in your bedroom. How he used to sneak in and bring snacks so you could eat them on the roof of parent’s house watching the moon and talking about your future together. You were twenty and in love. Had been for two years already. Since you were eighteen, that’s when you met him. He was the cool musician guy working at the record store. He was a couple years older, just 21, but your parents hated him for dropping out of school. It didn’t make you love him any less.

You were trying to get over him though, you’d look whenever your friends would tell you there was a cute guy interested in you, you’d message and hang out in group settings but emotionally you weren’t ready at all. Not when someone would give you a smile and all you could see was Taehyung’s cute little boxy smile. How he'd grin so wide whenever you’d cheer at every band practice.

But it was only six months ago, and you were together two years during your most vulnerable years.

2021

You’d been in the middle of a drive to your friend's house. At first you couldn't recognize the sound, something completely new, but the soft melodic voice began singing. It felt like everything was spinning, it took everything in you not to go down on your brakes and stop the car instantly. The rain thudded against your window, you slowly drove off the main road, parked to the side of the street trying to get a better listen. You could be right, right ?

Turning the music up, you listen carefully to the song playing on the radio.

Kim Taehyung was playing in the radio. He’d made it.

It had been an entire year already, struggling to even think about anything but him for months, like a broken record constantly putting the thought of him in your brain. And on a day where he hadn't crossed your mind yet did the music play. You could spot his voice even if he was muffled by thousands in a heartbeat.

It was too engraved into your brain to forget. How could you forget the gentle voice that used to sing to you on a late night? You’d be in his arms hearing him him lightly feeling the vibrations of his chest as you rested your cheek on it.

The late afternoons by the bridge where the two would sit, bags spread out along with pens and notebooks content with watching you study. His straight posture as he asked you to listen to yet another idea he had, lyrics flowing out in a soft melody each time. You don’t think you could ever forget what his voice sounded like, especially not playing in high volume in the small car of yours.

It was the only thing keeping him from returning to his old ways. He'd spent so much time trying to distract himself with anything possible just so he wouldn't think of you. He'd write about things like your warmth and your future or the past, but it'd always come around about you. About your smile and how it'd make his chest ache each time he was the cause of it. Or the smell of your lavender shampoo stuck in his nose all day after holding you in his arms all night.

And he sang about love, or heartbreak actually. The thought of never finding anyone like you again, and he missed you and wished to hold you in his arms. How it wasn’t your fault you didn’t work out, he didn’t blame you for leaving him. But another second would pass and he'd sing about how he hated you. How he never wanted to see you again and he hoped you weren’t doing well but only because he was angry. Sometimes that he was sorry, that he wished he could be the person your parents had wanted for you. And his songs would become angrier as time went by. They wouldn't be as soft as the one you’d heard in the car.

They wouldn't be about missing you and always loving you but instead about how you hurt him too. How you let your parent’s decide the fate of your relationship. How you didn’t fight hard enough. How you left him behind too. Songs about wanting to break girl’s hearts and get back at them. So the band's image did a huge 180 degrees from the soft love struck image they had to this darker version of rock, smoking, and sex.

The image of what your mother warned you about, turning him into what your parents hated. Almost like it was his own way to express his pain and his change, he wasn't the same boy he once was. Hell always remember what they told him, “You think you’re good enough for our daughter? A dead beat musician who can barely even take care of himself? Y/n is better than you, she always will be and you’re a sorry excuse for a man.” He remembered wanting to tell them off. You were twenty, you could make your own decisions. They acted like it was wrong for them to be together.

Your phone rang, you struggled to find the want to get back on the road and leave to your friend’s house. Digging around the console you found it, pushing it to your ear and lowering the volume of his singing voice to answer.

"Hello?" You said through the phone, holding it between your cheek and shoulder as you turned your signal light on and motioned to try and swerve into the lane.

"How are you?" You stopped, car honking behind you as you pulled back into your lane. The voice from the radio speaking softly through the end of your phone. "Y/n?"

Without thinking, you hung up, chucking the phone onto the empty passenger's side, biting your lip nervously as you finally got back on the road. There was nothing to come out from receiving a call from him. You couldn't even find it in you to answer. As much as you wanted to talk to him you knew you wouldn't be able to control yourself. You’d want to crawl back into his arms like before and forget everything that has happened since then.

But he was still confused, holding the phone in his hand looking down at the blank screen with a tight jaw. His fingers tightened around the device, inhaling slowly as his tongue poked against the inside of his cheek. He threw the phone on the bench, standing up and hiding his face in his hands.

He was an idiot to think you’d care about their debut. To think that maybe if he snuck off from practice to smoke a cigarette and call you, you’d actually stick around and hear him out. At least he knew he wasn't blocked, but he couldn't tell if that was for better or worse. You answered, you knew who he was, if you didn't you wouldn't have hung up on him so quickly.

2022

It was almost taunting you, his image staring back at you like you were still the only two people in the world. That wasn't the case though, and you’ve no reason to really be upset but you were. He was off living his dream, doing what he's always done and you felt bitter about it. The image of him smiling widely with his arm around his bandmates like he was the happiest kid in the world. The woman on his side fitting the image of the group perfectly. You wanted to blame him for leaving you behind but you couldn’t. He didn’t leave you behind, you left each other. No one was more at fault than the other but fuck did it hurt.

You didn’t care about his fame other than that you were happy for him. It’s what he’d always wanted and you’d gotten in the way of it for too long. That’s why when he called you after their debut you didn’t say anything. He had to live his life and you had to go live yours.

“You have to!” He whined dragging you along behind him, “The place just opened and we’re lucky to even get in tonight. Namjoon got us early admission since BTS is performing!”

You looked to Jimin, a pout on his face as he yanked you along. He couldn’t understand what the big deal was. You were his close friend and you couldn’t even spend his own birthday with him? Like come on, he can’t even understand what was the problem all of a sudden. How was he supposed to know that you did not want to see the band BTS perform? They were his favorite band! He didn’t know you had pictures of you with the lead singer from years before? His arm thrown around you, lips pressed against your cheek, large smile on your face.

“Fine, we’re here anyway,” you let him drag you to where your other friends stood waiting for you, “I’ve never met a birthday boy who plans his own birthday. Come on!”

A smile spread across your face as you went to your friends. It’s fine. By the looks of the line, the new club will be packed especially with the band performing tonight. Apparently close friends with the club owner, Kim Seokjin. “It’s my fucking birthday!” Was the first thing Jimin shouted when you all made it in.

You kept to his side, hiding a little. You couldn’t risk being seen even if the chances were slim. He probably wouldn’t even recognize you. Your hair was different, your style was different. You weren’t the same person he was with. Plus, he was a big time celeb now, he probably had more things to do than worry about his ex girlfriend he dated when he was younger. Maybe you were just being super conceited thinking he’d still think about you every now and then. Or hopeful, maybe.

“Let’s go get him a drink,” Namjoon told you and you nodded. You looked to your friends who surrounded Jimin taking orders before you left. Namjoon was a close friend of yours, they bother we’re actually. Jimin and Namjoon were both your seniors in college until they graduated. Jimin had a shared requisite course with you and that’s how you met. Namjoon was part of a tutoring program and he became your friend through that. The other such as Jieun, Heein, and Yuna you roomed with them in college before you moved out. You don’t talk to anyone from before going to the University and maybe it was for the better.

“I’ve still never met anyone who would rather plan every little detail of their birthday than let someone else,” you laughed lightly as you waited at the bar. You were thankful for Namjoon at the moment, he always had a way of sending something was wrong even if you didn’t tell him what. His presence was calming enough. He just laughed finally catching the bartender’s attention, “He’s a perfectionist when it comes to celebrating himself.”

“Four shots of…” you weren’t paying attention fully. Namjoon was smiling warmly at you that you didn’t notice what was going on around you. When the bartender spoke again, “Need a little boost for the stage tonight?”

You froze at his words. The stage? Not wanting to turn, you let your eyes wander off to the person standing next to you, scared to see who might be standing next to you. It was a guy with black hair, tattoos and piercings. He must’ve caught you looking because he sent you a wink. You didn’t react, eyes flickering behind him to the stage where stagehands were getting equipment ready. The stranger’s brows furrowed as he glance over to you again. Did he know you from somewhere? He didn’t bother hiding the fact that he was looking, letting his eyes trail over your features longer than necessary. When they set a tray of the shots in front of him, the bartender telling him they were on the house, he turned to you.

“Hey, have we ever met before?” He asked suddenly looking over to you. You looked back to him, Namjoon preoccupied with paying to notice and your brows only scrunched together in confusion. Was this some rockstar pick-up line? “No?”

He forced a smile on his face, “Right sorry.” And he left. He did know you from somewhere, or he’d at least seen you before. He walked back to his bandmates, shots for them all, “I’ve got the drinks!”

“Took you long enough,” Hoseok was the first to say something smiling at him as he set his drumsticks down. Jungkook paid him no mind as he stared ahead at the lead singer, “Tae, mind if I borrow cash for a tip? I don’t got any.”

Taehyung shrugged, motioning over his shoulder where his wallet was in his bag. Jungkook handed the tray to Hoseok as he went over to their pile of things. He dug through Taehyung’s bag until he found his wallet. Inside it was the usual stuff, he kept rummaging though. Hidden between some punch cards he found it. A small, wallet sized picture.

A picture of a woman. A woman with a lazy smile and half glazed over eyes. She was in a messy bed cuddled into bed sheets with a small puppy in her hands. It was then that Jungkook noticed that it was you. The one he’d just seen at the bar is the same person Taehyung kept hidden in his wallet. The only reason why Jungkook even knew of this photo is because of the time he meant to steal a couple bucks from his hyung, dropped the wallet and the picture slipped out. He wasn’t sure what to do, should he tell Taehyung who he just saw?

But then he remembered the time he asked his hyung about the mystery girl, Taehyung had gotten mad and stormed off. As if summoning him too, a hand snatched the picture and wallet out of his hands, “What the fuck are you doing?”

Jungkook looked up at him, “I—Tae—“ he took a deep breath, “Who is that again?”

“None of your business,” his voice was sharp, mean almost and he shook the thought, “Nobody, it doesn’t matter.”

“Hyung, I think I…” should he tell him? He shook his head, he shouldn’t. But he had to. He didn’t know that much about Taehyung. He barely joined the band a year ago but his band mate was always quiet and on his own. He never seemed into anything and always out of it. Did this person have a say in it? Is that why Taehyung still carried this picture around despite how sensitive the topic was. No, he had to say something. He’d feel guilty if he knew and never spoke up about it. For better or worse, Jungkook just saw the person Taehyung keeps hidden in his wallet.

“That person in the picture,” Jungkook swallowed the lump in his throat.

“Alright guys!” Sungha, their manager cut in, “On stage, come on. Okay, Taehyungie?” Taehyung didn’t listen to her, Jungkook had to say something about you and he needed to know now if it was gonna piss him off or not.

“She’s here, I-I just saw her—“

“Alright let’s go!” Yoongi smiled widely, high off the thought of performing but Taehyung didn’t react.

He couldn’t stop his voice from cracking as he pointed to your picture, “H-Her?” Jungkook nodded, “At the bar.”

You were here? You came? You actually came to one of their shows? He knew this was a smaller performance, just fitting this little favor into their schedule for Jin since it was his opening night. He spent so many shows in Seoul searching for someone in the crowd who wasn’t there and now you were. Did you know he was here? Did you come alone? No, definitely not. Who goes alone on a Saturday night to a opening night for a club? Did you come with friends? A boyfriend? Probably. Why would you be single anyway? Not like you’ve been waiting for him.

“Come on,” Jungkook tried pulling Taehyung but he shook him off. Taehyung shook his head, “You’re telling me… her? You saw her? Here? Tonight? Where, tell me where is she?”

“Tae come on man!” Hobi put his hands on his shoulders leading him onto stage away from Jungkook. Jungkook just followed, maybe after the performance Taehyung could explain what’s going on.

“Holy shit they’re about to perform!” Jimin shook you, arms around your waist trying to lift you up in his excitement, “Fuck, someone get me a shot!”

“Here, here,” Jieun laughed as she handed him more alcohol. You rolled your eyes laughing as your best friend got shitfaced for his birthday. You refused to look to the stage but you could hear the cheers all around you.

It wasn’t until his voice spoke up, the same deep, calming voice speak through the mix. The same voice that used to sing to you in the back of some shitty truck parked by traintracks. The same voice that’d whisper in your ear, I love you.

You couldn’t. You couldn’t do it.

Taehyung’s eyes had been racing over all the faces in the poorly lit club. He was going to find you, no matter what.

The music began, he could hear Hoseok behind him counting down to start but he was frozen in place. He was going to find you. You weren’t in the front, or the right, or the left. He could barely see the back but he knew you had to be here. He just needed to see how you were doing. And like a miracle happened, one of the set lights ran through the crowd, that’s how he saw you and you saw him. Your eyes met for the briefest of moments before you were moving. No, leaving.

“I’ll be back,” he couldn’t stop himself from getting off the stage. Ignoring his manager and bandmate’s he was leaving, going after you. He tossed the mic to Jungkook and as if his band mate understood he was taking over. Sungha reached for Taehyung as he made it backstage but he moved again. He was going after you so he had to hurry.

Shit, he saw you. God was this so fucking weird. What if he thought you were stalking him. What if he thought you were bitter or not over him? You apologized to your friends telling them you just needed a breather. You walked to the back down the long hall where the bathrooms would be. You didn’t know that it connected to backstage until he was intercepting you. The light above you flickering, too dark in the tiny hallway.

Neither of you said anything, all you could both do was take in the other person’s features. He looked differently, obviously older than the last time you saw him when he was 24. His face was more structured, sharper and masculine. His eyes were still hooded over, lazy almost unamused but you knew that wasn’t the case.

“Y/n,” it came out just above a whisper. He looked over you. Your hair was different, your face a little more soft. Your glossy lips slightly parted, your dress fitting your curves perfectly. Still so damn beautiful.

You took a step closer, you had to. You hadn’t seen him in two years. It’s crazy how affected he made you. He looked great. When you took a step forward he did too until you were standing directly in front of each other. He wasn’t thinking when he did it, just took you in his arms, pressing you against him enjoying the feel of your arms wrapping around him. He took a deep breath of your hair, same lavender scent. He wanted you closer, no, needed you closer.

“Taehyung, Tae—hey,” you cupped his face in your hands forcing a friendly smile on your face, “You look amazing. You guys are amazing, wow.”

“Then why are you trying to run away? I’m sorry, I just had to see if it’s you.” Taehyung shook his head, “I know you don’t want to see me but I just needed to see how you were doing. I’m sorry, I’m sorry for—“

“Taehyungie! There you are!” Sungha came over quickly, arm slinging around him as she smiled widely, “I was wondering what happened.” She looked over to you; eyeing you up and down with distaste. Another groupie, she assumed. You looked down at the way she clung to him, the same girl in the pictures. Right, of course he’d moved on. Silly enough to think he wasn’t over you yet, but you could say now that you still missed him. He still mattered to you, you couldn’t escape him. The band plastered on billboards, bus stops, commercials.

You took a step back and immediately Taehyung grew anxious. No, you weren’t done yet. He pushed Sungha’s hand off, “Wait, do you still have the same number?”

You looked up at him as did his manager. Shaking your head no he sighed, “Y/n… please.”

“Tae everyone’s waiting for you,” Sungha caught in. Look, she didn’t care who you were. Taehyung had a show to do and she wasn’t going to let some groupie ruin their image. “I’ll call you,” you told him looking down at the floor.

“Here’s my new number,” he took your phone as you handed it to him. He put his number in and called himself. He wasn’t going to risk giving you his number only for you to never call him. He needed to be able to reach you two. You said a single goodbye and turned away.

He stood still, staring after you as you walked down the dim hallway. No, he couldn’t let you go yet. Not yet. He let himself slip away from Sungha again as he followed after you, “Y/n wait.”

You stopped, your hands were shaking a little so you hid them behind your back as you turned to him again. He stood in front of you, “Come backstage, please?”

“I can’t,” you answered quickly, “I’m here with some friends and we’re celebrating a birthday. He’d kill me if I ditched on him.”

“They can come too,” Taehyung pointed out, “Sungha, make sure security lets them through, how many?��

You looked to him feeling somewhat uncomfortable. You probably shouldn’t. Not because you didn’t feel anything for the guy, it’s because you still felt everything for him. Even after two years of being broken up you still care about him so much. You should tell him it’s alright, that you have his number now so you can catch up another time but the hopeful look in his eyes made you pause. You missed him. A lot.

“There’s six of us,” you tell him as you began taking a couple steps back, “We’re kind of a lot.”

He smiled shaking his head, “That’s okay.”

When you left Taehyung had gone back to the band. During a short break he was able to switch places with Jungkook again and sing up front. A smile stretched across his face because you were here right now. You didn’t hate him either, which is what he always thought. You embraced him like he’d done you and for a split second he could act like nothing ever fell out between you two. He ignored Sungha’s questions and concerns because they didn’t matter. She was his manager and you were his ex girlfriend, who do you think he’d be more willing to hear from?

After the show ended Jimin was so hyped up. He was shaking you by the shoulders beaching out more lyrics even as the DJ took over and you couldn’t hold in your laughter, “Well do you want to meet them birthday boy? They’ve invited us backstage.”

“Shut the fuck up!” He squeezed you again, “I could kiss you right now. What are we still doing here?”

And you let your friends excitement mask the slight tinge of anxiety you felt. Taehyung looked happy to see you and it made you feel awful. Awful for not answering his calls, awful for not congratulating him on his accomplishments, awful for how things were left. You don’t think you could ever forget the look on his face when your father cornered him.

‘Listen kid, I know guys like you,’ your father had said, ‘And I know that you are nothing but trouble filling my daughter’s head with these crazy idea of yours. If you want to throw your life away because you think you can make a name for yourself I don’t care. But you’re not letting her go down with you. She’s got a bright future ahead of her and being with you will only ruin her.’

‘Sir, I would never let Y/n down, please—‘ ‘You stay away from her, okay? If I see you anywhere near her again I swear to God it will be the last time anyone sees you again.’

Of course Taehyung hadn’t listened then. How could he when someone was trying to take the love of his life away? He knew your family was controlling, and intimidating, but he didn’t care. You were all he had, he’d never leave you willingly, right?

‘Y/n, please don’t do this. I’m not scared, I don’t care about what he says to me. I want to be with you and I know you want to be with me too,’ he’d snuck into your bedroom later that night. Your parents had gone out for dinner and a movie. He tried and tried to get you to see reason, ‘I know you’re worried, but I’m not. As long as you love me I don’t care what anyone else says.’

‘Tae it’s not that easy, you don’t know him. You don’t know what he’ll do to you. I’m just asking for some space until I move in to the dorm—‘ ‘You want to hide our relationship?’ Taehyung asked taking a step back, ‘Is that what you really want?’

‘Run away with me,’ he’d begged, hands reaching for yours as he tried pulling you into him, ‘I can get us both tickets to wherever you want to go. Once the band and I start getting some gigs I will be able to pay for your tuition so your parents won’t have to. We’ll find somewhere cheap to live in the mea—‘

‘Taehyung! Listen to yourself please,’ you took a deep breath, ‘I—I can’t. Why can’t you just give me a couple months to let things settle? I love you but I need some space, just until I can move out and then we can be together again without having to sneak around.’

‘A couple months?’ He scoffed, ‘Y/n, baby, please listen to yourself. What happened to not caring about what your parent’s had to say? We’re supposed to be a team, support each other but it’s like you’re giving up on me.’

“Hey, are you okay?” A hand came down to your lower back. Snapping out of your thoughts you looked up to Namjoon, he had a concerned expression as the two of you caught up to where the others were headed backstage. You’d been thinking about Taehyung, about one of your fights. You tried to smile back, hand on his back reassuring him that you were okay as well as leading him on with the others, “Of course, just a little tired.”

“These are the friends?” A voice spoke from behind you. Turning quickly you stared at Taehyung who’d snuck around the stage to search for you. His eyes traveled down to the hand on your lower back and the man on your arm. Without thinking you pulled away, as if you being with Namjoon would give Taehyung the wrong idea. Which idea exactly? You forced a smile onto your face, “Yeah, er, like I said we’re a lo—“

“Holy fucking moly you’re Kim Taehyung!” Jimin quite literally barreled past you, stumbling in his step, “I’m a fan. A big fan. Such a huge fan, wow you guys are grea—hey! It’s my birthday!”

Taehyung glared down at Jimin as you reached out to hold him back. Jimin just threw his arm around you, pulling you in to plant a kiss on your cheek that reeked of alcohol, “H-how do you know him? Have you been holding out on me Y/n?”

“We used to date,” Taehyung was so forward about it as he pushed through your friends to get to the front. He led you all inside while you tried to ignore everyone’s betraying eyes. Jimin, drunk as he was, didn’t care to hide his questions, “What? You mean to tell me, you, my oh so loving best friend has dated a rockstar! And didn’t even bother telling me when it’s my birthday!?”

“Well, technically it’s not your birthday anymore,” Yuna pointed out staring at the clock that read 12:04am. Jimin glared at her as you all followed Taehyung, Namjoon close behind you.

Taehyung did the introductions for you, introduced all of the band to you and your friends even though you’ve already met Yoongi and Hoseok before. They gave you shy smiles, remembering the times you watched them practice. When he was sure they were all busy talking amongst themselves he went back to you. You’d been standing back just watching it all unfold staring at the same tatted man from earlier with the piercings. He came to your side, “Can we talk?”

“How’d you know I was here?” You asked him going back to him. Your voice was just barely above a whisper so he leaned in to listen, or so he says that’s the reason. You two were far off from the rest of the group and he gripped the metal railing for the staircase behind him, “Jungkook told me.”

Your brows furrowed. That must’ve been the other guy.

And as if on cue the guy had come up, smile on his face, “You see, I knew I knew you from somewhere!”

“From where?” You asked him. You stalked Taehyung’s socials even if you didn’t follow each other and he didn’t have any old posts with you at all. You turned to Jungkook and he just smiled, “You’re in his wallet. I always wondered if that was his gi—“

He gagged, Yoongi’s arm locked around his neck as he pulled him back, struggling to do so, “You always talk so damn much.” He glanced back to you, “It’s nice to see you again Y/n. You’re not a kid no more.”

You first met Yoongi when you were 18. He was one of Taehyung’s older friends who knew how to play every instrument and produce any sound possible. He was always quiet and to himself, but he enjoyed having you at their practices. Gave them an audience. He also remembered how broken Taehyung had been when you two broke up. He just didn’t know Taehyung carried a picture of you in his wallet. He wanted to say that you and Taehyung should be together but he’s no so sure. Taehyung had been completely destroyed when you left, or well when he left. He didn’t want him to go through that again.

You looked to Taehyung who only glared after Jungkook as the younger was dragged away, “A picture?”

He reached into his back pocket taking his wallet out. He pulled out two punch cards where a picture laid between them. You stared down at it, heart squeezing for a second. He kept this? He printed it and kept it in his wallet? For two years? “Tannie,” you mumbled smiling a little as you looked at baby Yeontan. The picture was from a time you spent the night over at his place, you cuddled his dog and the running joke had always been that you were his momma. You looked up at Taehyung, he was already staring.

“I missed you.”

You ended up leaving with Namjoon and Jieun by the end of the night. Their manager had gotten fed with you, you’re sure of it, and had already tried to get everyone to leave. Taehyung didn’t want to go yet, asking you to come back to him but you didn’t. He asked you to call him then when you got home but you hadn’t done that either. You needed a minute to think.

He tried calling you the next couple of days but you didn’t respond. You just needed a day or two. He didn’t understand.

You thought he hated you. His music hasn’t been all that loving. He had reason to hate you too, the way you left him at the last second, when your father got home to see you getting in a car with him.

‘Dad! I’m sorry, okay?’ You’d shouted after him as he stormed off to Taehyung. He pushed him, shoving him to the ground and standing over him. You pulled and pulled on his arm but he gripped Taehyung by his shirt, ‘You don’t listen, do you? What part of stay away from my daughter do you not understand?’

‘Dad! I’m an adult, I can make my o—‘ ‘Shut up and get inside!’ He looked down to Taehyung, ‘Get out of here.’

‘Y/n,’ Taehyung had called out to you, lip busted as he reached out for you but your dad just dragged you away. With a cry you shook your head, ‘Just go, please.’

You remembered it so clearly. The pain in his voice as he called after you. Your texts telling him how sorry you were. His begging, telling you it’s okay. But it wasn’t. It wasn’t okay that you couldn’t be together. He knew it wasn’t. He knew he couldn’t put up with this any longer so when you told him it’s best to break up he agreed even if he didn’t want to. He’d prayed you’d rethink it and ask him to come back to you but you never did. So he left.

taehyung: if you never wanna hear from again just tell me

you: I just needed some time

you: I’m sorry

taehyung: it’s not your fault

taehyung: nothing has ever been

you: you got hurt bc of me

you: you should hate me

taehyung: I could never

taehyung: believe me I tried

taehyung: when can I see you again?

You ended up meeting up with him a couple days later. You invited him over to Heein’s place when it was just gonna be a few friends. He arrived a little later than others so you went down to fetch him. “Are you sure this is okay?” You had asked him once again as he followed you up the flights of stairs, “I don’t want to get you in trouble for going out.”

“It’s fine,” his smile was warm as he cautiously brought his hand up to your lower back letting your lead him into an apartment filled with chaos. Yuna and Jimin were wrestling over the Bluetooth speaker, Jieun was wiping up some spilled drink, Namjoon was covering his ears to avoid Heein’s unnecessary screaming when her favorite KPOP group appeared on tv.

“Act normal! Act normal!” Jimin shoved Yuna off as he took a seat on the couch, one leg crossed over the other taking a deep breath as he looked at Taehyung, “Why hello again Mr. Rockstar? Funny seeing you here, don’t mind the mess.”

“Stop talking like you live here,” Heein told him as she looked over to Taehyung, “Come, come. There’s drinks in the kitchen, we are about to play some card games.”

Taehyung looked over to you nervously but you just winked. He smiled now following your lead inside, you offered him a drink which he gladly took and joined you on the couch. The guy he’d seen you close to, Namjoon, kept glaring over at him but he didn’t care. He didn’t care who that guy was or what he had to do with you. He was just happy enough to possibly have you back in his life, it meant you still cared about him too.

Jimin led the card games anything that could get everyone drinking more or talking more. When it turned into a question game they seemed to all be directed at Taehyung. Taehyung who let his leg brush against yours any chance he had just to feel closer to you. It almost felt like the old days, when you’d be surrounded by friends laughing along with Taehyung, being made fun of for being so in love. He’d bring you closer to him, give you a kiss and smile against you because he really did love you. If only he could do that now, but not talking to each other for two years definitely put a strain on what you used to be to each other.

“So, how does it all work? Going on tour and stuff?” Namjoon had asked him shuffling a deck of cards, “Do you get breaks?”

“Yes, we are on a break now for a couple weeks then it’s off to Europe,” Taehyung told him honestly, but he really wished not to say anything at all. He didn’t want it to ruin his chances at reconciliation with you. He’d stay here forever if you asked him to. He looked to you waiting for a reaction but you just took a drink from your cup.

You looked up at him, lip pulled between your teeth nervously. He wanted to pull it out, tell you not to bite your lip because he loved it so much. You should know this. “So where are you staying? Do you have a place? Do you stay at hotels?” Heein asked him.

“I have my own place.”

“Okay, since nobody else will ask, I’ll ask,” Jimin took a deep breath as he looked between you two, “So what’s the story here? I gotta say I’m pretty upset my best friend kept this a secret from me. That she not only knew, but dated, a member of my favorite band.”

Taehyung looked to you again, what was the story you wanted to tell? You didn’t say anything for a moment, “We met a few years ago, when I had just finished high school. He worked at this record store my friends and I used to like going to. One thing led to another, we went on a few dates and then we got together.”

Yuna was the next to speak, “So wait, then why’d you guys break up? It couldn’t be that bad if you’re still hanging ou-ow!” Jimin poked her to shut up. You looked at Taehyung.

“We just wanted different things at the time,” he cleared his throat looking around, “Where’s the bathroom?” Jimin pointed down the hall and he excused himself.

His reflection stared back at him, taunting him almost. Asking him what the fuck was he doing. Why was he here right now? What did he really want to gain from all this? Was he looking to at least be friends again? Would he even be satisfied with that knowing the way your lips felt against his? Or how much he missed having someone to hold late at night. He wasn’t celibate or anything, but he never found the comfort in other people’s arms like in yours. Would he ever be satisfied with anything less than your love for him?

He turned the faucet on, cupping his hands under the warm water before splashing it on his face. Was he too stuck in the past? He dried his face off combing his fingers through his hair as he left the bathroom.

“Are we still getting brunch with your dad tomorrow?”

“I’m not sure, I’ll ask him.”

Taehyung froze, hidden away in the shadows of the hall he stopped. That was Namjoon’s voice and yours too. That meant Namjoon knew your dad, talked to him, hung out with him. And it meant your dad liked him. Why else would he be invited out? Taehyung would’ve been lucky to even get a hello every time he’d go over. It was always mean looks and glares, the occasional threat or degradation. Sometimes his ass laid out on the pavement if your dad was feeling extra bold and drunk.

What did that mean? Namjoon, was he into you?

He went on, walking back to where he’d once been sitting and waiting quietly for whatever else was to come. He looked over at Namjoon who just smiled, knowing almost. Knowing that he’d soon be replacing Taehyung’s door in your heart and pretty fucking happy about it. You reached for his hand on instinct, “Hey, how are you feeling?”

“Good,” he lied looking up to you, “Tired but good.”

“So Taehyung, I’ve been wanting to ask,” Namjoon spoke up, “Is, or has, Y/n ever been one of your song inspirations? You write a good amount of the music, right? Or was your relationship not too important?”

Taehyung glared down at him, a light scoff leaving his lips, “Well, she’s the inspiration for all my music, now too.”

“Fuck you that is so romantic,” Jieun pretended to cry against Jimin who just pushed her off his shoulder teasingly, “I want a guy to write songs about me.”

You didn’t say anything. Was that really true? The songs of his that you’d heard, had they really been about you?

“Every single one of them,” Taehyung spoke as he looked at you directly as if reading your thoughts. He’d always do that. You looked back to him, “Are you tired of their interrogation?”

“A little.” At least he was honest. Mostly he just wanted to get out of her and talk to you alone. Maybe you’d be able to really discuss what happened and where you are now. That’s what he really wanted.

He’d asked you over to his apartment later on. You both got in his car and he drove off. He walked ahead of you, picking up clothes and shoes off the floor covering his face in embarrassment, “Sorry, we just got back and I haven’t had time to unpack. Here, er, take a seat I’ll get you a drink.”

You nodded heading to the living room but you didn’t sit. You looked around, eyes skimming over the artwork. The framed albums and guitars, the random abstract paintings and photographs. The apartment was big, new and definitely expensive. You were so proud of him. Compared to that rundown studio he used to take you to this was an upgrade.

“You cold?” He asked coming over and setting a tray with glasses and a wine bottle on the coffee table. He went to the fireplace and began to turn it on. You looked down at the fluffy black rug under your feet and wiggled your toes in it. When he was done he let himself drop to the run sitting on the floor and pouring glasses. He looked up to you nervously, “You’re not gonna sit? Sorry, it’s warmer down here by the fireplace.”

You just smiled and sat down next to him. He looked over to you again, shy smile on his face as he handed you a glass and you thanked him. Shyly, he cleared his throat, “I um, I didn’t get to explain myself the other night, for the picture I mean.”

“It’s just, well, um, it was the day I got Yeontan. He was just a pup and well, I took the picture and I didn’t have that many of him, or you, and I guess I just never took it out,” he breathed out nervously, “It’s weird. I know. I’m sorry.”

“Where is he anyway?” You asked looking around sporting the dog toys but no dog.

“Probably napping in my closet.”

You smiled watching his nervous hand come up to brush a stray hair out of his face, “I was surprised.”

“Yeah.”

“But look at this,” you reached for your cellphone, the dark case popping off with a simple push and inside a paper slipped out. You handed the old slip to him and he looked over it with brows furrowed. It was a sketch. A poorly drawn heart with a smiley face inside, a few flowers around it and faded handwriting that read, ‘-Taehyung’ on it. He flipped it over, the back had more but this time it was your name doodled everywhere with his.

He smiled, heart feeling light as he thought back to that day.

‘How much longer?’ He’d asked you doodling on a random sticky note. You were currently studying for some summer course, he was hanging out with you. You sat under a tree letting the shade block the harsh sun and he’d taken one of your textbooks to use as a clipboard while he doodled. When you didn’t give him an answer he reached into your pencil pouch and pulled out a sharpie. A mischievous smirk played on his lips as he grabbed one of your legs that had been on his lap and took hold of your converse. Quickly he drew a messy heart with your initials and his on it.

‘Hey!’ You yanked your foot back just as he’d finished the date and looked down at your foot. Cute. He flashed you a smile and held up the sticky note, placing it on your forehead. You huffed taking it off and looking it over, “Cute, give me five and then I’m done. And no more writing on my shoes.’

‘Give me a kiss and I’ll stop.’

He held the sticky note now feeling a sense of relief. Good. He wasn’t the only one who couldn’t fully let the other go. It gave him hope, almost. He licked his dry lips, “Listen, I just, I think I should be honest with you.”

Uh oh.

“I was mad with how we left things,” he confessed, “I felt like we couldn’t get on the same page and like nothing was working out for us. And I just thought that it was because you weren’t trying hard enough. Like I wasn’t worth a fight with your parents and that was unfair or me. I blamed you when it wasn’t your fault and I regret it so fucking much. I tried calling and texting you to see if we could ever be anything again even if it was just friends but you never answered.”

You took a deep breath sliding your legs under you, “I’m sorry. It wasn’t right for me to ignore you but it was my fault. If I only just… if I just stuck up for us and told him nothing bad would have happened to you. I regret never speaking up for you—“

“He’s your dad,” Taehyung sighed, “I was expecting you to go against him, that wasn’t right of me.”

“Everything he said or did to you wasn’t right.”

He reached a hand out to you, pushing your hair out of your face, “I would’ve put up with so much more if it meant we could be together. It killed me being away from you. It still does.”

“I thought you were happy,” you were being honest with him now, “I thought that if I tried talking to you it’d be like opening old wounds. Or that you’d hate me or like I wasn’t letting you move on. I mean look at you, look at what you’ve become. Your dreams came true and I couldn’t bring up the past.”

He shook his head scooting closer to you, “You’ve always been my dream too, don’t forget that.”

You shook your head ready to protest but he continued, “You’re really the reason why I continued music. You’re the one who always pushed me to try my best and I guess hearing your dad say I’d never be good enough for you made me want to prove him wrong. I wanted to give you a life that you couldn’t even imagine. That’s why I kept going until I forgot why I was doing all of this.”

It was quiet. Neither of you knew what else to say or where to go from here. All you knew was that you liked the way his fingers ran over your ankle lightly brushing against your skin. Caressing you like he used to as he dipped a finger along the rim of his glass, “So, uh, Namjoon. Y-ou… that’s the kind of guy your dad wants for you? I overheard earlier, brunch tomorrow.”

You sighed, hand reaching out to hold his, “I don’t care what he wants for me anymore. I learned from my mistakes.”

“Yes but, are you seeing each other?” He bit into his bottom lip. It’s fine. Like ripping a bandaid. Just tell him the truth. Tell him if he has a change again or not. You held his hand tighter, “What are we? What do you want us to be?”

“Friends?” More, he thought. He needed to be cautious, try and ease into your life again. You looked into his eyes, “That’s it?”

“No.”

His eyes searched yours for a hint at what you wanted him to say. What truth you wanted him to tell, and with a deep breath he told his own, “I want to be with you, I never want to be away from you again if we don’t even get to talk. I know we haven’t spoken in so long but I’ve missed you every day and have just been trying to forget. I don’t want to forget us Y/n. I told you then, and I’m telling you now. I am so fucking in love with you, and I have always been. I want to say that we can try and be friends but it’s not enough, it will never be enough for me.”

“Leaving you back last time was the hardest thing I’d ever done. When you told me to leave I was so fucking hurt and mad, I don’t ever want to feel that again,” he kept going, “And I’m scared that just being friends will kill me but I can’t stand the thought of losing you when I just f-found you again.”

A deep breath, eyes closed, “But if you just want to be friends, I’ll do it. Just please don’t go.”

All you did was smile. Your silence was torture. He needed you to just say something. Tell him what you wanted him to do. If you didn’t want him in that way anymore, if you wanted him to get out of your life. If you loved him still. Please, just show him where your head’s at. You leaned forward, he watched closely as you approached him. His heart raced, eyes wandering down to your parted lips. And with a sigh he let his lips meet yours.

You both melted into the kiss, crumbling down onto each other. His hands were quick to reach out for you going to your waist. He was on his knees leaning into you for better access, the kiss was electrifying. The tingly feeling he’d missed returning to him just being here with you right now. He could stay with his mouth on yours for forever.

Moving your hand from his shoulder, you cupped the back of his neck and pulled him deeper into your mouth. Taehyung let out a desperate sounding noise and it sparked something hot inside of you, pushing him back so you could climb onto his lap. You whimpered when his fingers dug into the softness of your waist and he used that moment to dip his tongue into your mouth. Quickly you were dipping your head down and running your own tongue along his, drunk on the heat and taste of him. You missed this. His movements were swift, expert to the feel of your body, his hand running up into your hair and the other sliding down to your bottom while your legs wrapped around his waist. He held you up even if he was struggling not to fall back onto the floor. When he squeezed you there, bringing your body to press fully against his, you moaned. You pulled back to catch your breath. Looking back at him, you smiled at just how swollen his lips were and how messy you’d made his hair. You let yourself kiss the corner of his open mouth hearing him gasp as you trailed your affections elsewhere.

Heaven. You were, this whole thing was just heaven on Earth. Your lips on him again, kissing down that little spot under his jaw that you knew drove him insane. Making his eyes rolls back when your hips ground down against him a little. His hands where they should be, planted on your hips, keeping you in place. Your hand in his hair yanking his head back so your lips could crash onto his.

“Ngh,” with furrowed brows he deepened the kiss, never having enough of you. He felt hot against you, breathing roughly through his nose just so he wouldn’t have to pull away. Your other hand was under his chin, holding him close to you as if he’d slip away. His neck stretched up chasing after your lips.

“I don’t think I can live without you again,” you confessed shyly, gasping when his mouth left wet, hungry kisses along the expanse of your neck. His hands were groping at your clothes trying to bring you even closer, your chest against his with your legs straddling his lap.

“You won’t have to,” he sighed out trailing his hand up and down your back, “I don’t want you to.”

You wanted to be closer to him. Show him how much you missed him too, let him know that you couldn’t just be friends either. It’s not like you’d be the first person in the world to go back to your ex. You wanted to grind your bodies together until you remembered what it was like to be one.

You reached down between them, fingers skidding over his shirt, pushing him back until he got the hint to lie down. Taehyung sucked in a breath, tensed his stomach in anticipation, remembering the way your hands on him felt. With a smile, you let your fingers dance along the fabric as you hovered over him. The sight below you just beautiful. This man. This wonderful man who was willing to wait and forget whatever happened between you two just to be together again. How could you ever forget about him? Move on from him?

“Is this okay?” You asked, scared that maybe you’d gone too far by kissing him first. His eyes were half shut but he was nodding his head eagerly, in bliss from just making out with you. He usually took the lead between you two but having you on top of him was making his mind wander off to what had changed in this department for you. You lifted his t-shirt, kissing along his rib cage while your hand caressed over his stomach and sides, “What about this?”

“Fuck Y/n, yes. Yes. Yes. It’s perfect,” he sighed out letting his head fall back, “Just keep touching me. It’s been so long.”

His breath hitched, stomach tensing once more when your hand slipped down the hem of his clothing, trailing along his pelvis and thigh. Then trailed back up to the dip of his navel, just above the wet tip of Taehyung’s fast growing erection. You still had such an effect of him.

Your lips met his again, a hand coming up to your face and pulling you closer. You took the opportunity to go on, hand curled over the

hard length carefully. Taehyung released a gust of breath and tilted his head up for another kiss.

It was sloppy, eager tongues and pliant lips and gently scraping teeth. It was moans passed back and forth with increasing urgency. It was too good to stop. You broke away, smearing your lips across his jaw and groaning into his neck. “God, you’re so hard,” you murmured into warm skin. “I could worship you.”

It wasn’t far off from the truth. He was harder, thicker, than you could remember and he was here with you again. You let your fingers tap against the wet slick leaking from his slit and massaged it over his tip and as much of his length as you could. Your hand stretched wide around his member as you gave it a single, careful stroke that left Taehyung wanting more.

You wanted more, wanted to feel the heavy weight of it on your tongue. Have him wriggling on this rug by the fireplace for more, more, more. You pushed off, tugging on his shirt and pants for it to come off all while taking your own clothes off. Taehyung moved quickly to rid himself of clothing. Instead of taking over, he just fell back into the plush rug, vibrating with excitement for more. He missed you so damn much he’d take anything you gave him right now.

With your hand, you traced down his hard chest, tweaked playfully at a nipple, then slid your fingers over the soft muscle. You scooted back and Taehyung lifted his head, eyes bright with hope. You pulled against the hem of his briefs, which he’d oh so excitedly left on just thinking about you ripping them off him, and let your finger graze against his hardened cock until in pointed lewdly at the ceiling. You leaned down, eyes locked onto Taehyung’s—a steady gaze that said ’watch me worship your cock’.

Your tongue slipped out flat, and Taehyung attempted to bite back a whispered—whimpered—"Y/n…“

You pressed against his tip, slipped your tongue over the weeping slit, and rolled it around the reddened head, once, twice. You sank your mouth down, letting Taehyung’s girth part your lips until they hugged around his member. You couldn’t hit it in and moaned—hungry for more— you reached between his legs and palmed underneath where his balls were. They were always flushed against his member, close to releasing all the tension.

Slowly, you pulled away. You brought your hand to rest on his thigh, soothing him and let his cock slip from your mouth while your head fell against his thigh.

“Are you sure you want this again?” You asked nervously, ghosting your fingers along the prominent veins of his shaft.

Taehyung arched up, a moan slipping past his lips. “More than anything else in the world I want you.”

And that’s what had you back on his cock, mouth sucking him, wrapping your hand around the girth and stroked once from thick base to leaking tip letting him slip out of your mouth before pummeling back onto him. Taehyung shuddered, a single curse falling from his lips with a gracious rumble—fffuuuuuuck.

Whatever didn’t fit was stroked again—one slow pass over the length of him. Then again. With the tip just barely in your mouth, you began to suck, as if to milk him, lips squeezed around him. Slowly, as if unsure, Taehyung rolled his hips into you. When you offered no resistance, he did it again—thrusting into your mouth a little more, hissing at the glide of your hand at his base.

“Fuck, s-such a good girl,” he whined, moans rumbled through him, growing louder, higher. He was now fucking into your mouth in quick jabs, chasing his climax. You could feel the twitching pulse of his cock.

“Come, baby,” Your voice was soft, like a melody, “You deserve it.” You let your free hand go down again, squeezing lightly against his balls.

Taehyung cried out, hips up pushing you flush against his pubic bone. He came hot and hard in your mouth, pulsing out thick ribbons until he shuddered with over sensitivity. His own hands running along his bare torso as if it’d calm his racing heart. And when you pulled off his length, swallowing hard his cum he stared at the mess drooling out from the corners of your mouth and all he could think about is how he wanted to do the same to you. So he reached for you, not caring about the cum hanging off your lips, and smashed his lips against yours.

“Want you to sit on my face,” he moaned tasting himself on your tongue, “Please, fuck, just fuck my face.”

Just the idea of it makes you moan. You nod your head, as his hands find your hips guiding you up his body. He pulled at your underwear, ordering you to remove your bra too as he moved you where he wanted you. It started off slow, licks down the crease of your thigh, so close and so far away from where you need him. He scrapes his teeth down the sensitive thin skin, sucks a mark on your inner thigh. He’s humming at the feel, your soft thighs providing warmth to his ears like it’s cold outside—well it is.

“You’re so wet,” he let some of the slick drop onto his face only making this more lewd. How could you not be after having him in your mouth?

You could never forget how much you love the way he touches you, reverently at first. And later demanding and hungry, the gentleness gone as he takes you apart expertly. You will never get enough of the greedy way he takes everything you give him.

You’re drawn out of your thoughts by the feel of his tongue finally sliding over your clit. You cry out, clutching at his head, you’d palms skid over his hair by accident and tug as you shiver.

He licks over you quickly, vibrating your clit before working his way down, his tongue siding inside you, fucking in and out slowly guiding your hips to ride his face. You push back against him as pleasure courses through you. Your whole body is lit up. You start to shake, the gentle stroke of his tongue right down the middle of you feeling wonderful. “Oh.” Your head falls back with a moan. You shiver as he does it again and again. One long swipe after another along the open center of your cunt. Your hips start to rock, your knees slipping until you’re pressed firmly against him. You feel him moan against you, the vibration sending a fresh wave of heat right through you. He was enjoying this. You tasted so damn sweet.

His hands slide over your thighs, his fingers rubbing and pressing at the muscles before moving up over your stomach to cup your exposed breasts. There’s a reason he wanted your bra off and on the floor. His thumbs brush back and forth over your nipples, until suddenly he pinches them hard.

“Fuck!” You grits out just as his tongue pushes into you. You grind against him, your body wracked with one hard shudder after another. His tongue is fucking up into you, lapping at your pussy like a starved man, his finger pinching and pulling at your nipples and you’re so fucking close already, rubbing at you from every angle and you feel every single flick of it. He keeps it curled in, as he begins to fuck you with it. You’re struggling to balance yourself as you ride his tongue, his nose hitting your clit every now and then. You hear a low rumble from him and it vibrates his tongue. You nearly scream as another shudder works it way through you.

You feel it coming like a tidal wave. Your whole body goes tight, shaking uncontrollably, your breath stuttering out and then you lock down on him, one hard convulsion after another as you wail his name. He keeps you in place, arms thrown around your thighs watching you fall apart above him hearing the chant of his name slip from your pretty lips. He laps at your release, wanting more, more, more.

It took you both a moment to bounce back from that, but with Taehyung’s cock hard again from having you squirm on him was making it difficult for him to be patient. When you got off of him he made sure to kiss your shoulder lovingly while you fell down next to him. Tender and soft, “Do you want to stop?”

He hoped not.

You shook your head, smiling so lovingly at him as you brushed some sweaty locks off his forehead. The rug underneath you felt so hot you had no idea how Taehyung has been fine just lying there. You kissed him gently, “Condom?”

“Shit,” he muttered as he moved you off lightly. He was on his feet, naked and running toward his bedroom—where you should be having sex right now instead of the floor but who cares. He rummaged through his things searching for one and after a couple minutes he returned. You looked down at his naked body, laughing a little when you caught sight of his hard dick, “Couldn’t wait?”

He shook his head sending you a cheeky smile as he rolled the condom on himself before even getting back onto the rug. He leaned over you, your arms flying around his neck as he met your lips with his, groaning a little at how needy it was. He couldn’t believe he had you again, right now in this moment. It made it feel like the last two years without you never happened and you were always together. His arm snuck underneath your arched back and pulled you flush against him. With one swift movement, he had you up flipping you over so you were on top sitting over his hard cock.

You whined a little at the sudden pressure against your sensitive pussy, unwrapping your arms from around his neck to push up against his chest.

He kissed along your arms as you unraveled yourself with him sitting up straight. He smiled, “You are so beautiful.”

“Mhm,” you giggled letting your hair fall over one shoulder. Biting onto your bottom lip Taehyung felt his cock twitched a little, hands on your thighs waiting for you to move. You pressed down, “What do you want? Hm?”

“Ride me,” he sighed out eyes locked on the way your cunt just barely hovered over his erect member, barely grazing over it, “Like you did with my face pretty girl.”

Barely within seconds your hand was slipping down to your core where his member was, you lifted up using your knees for support until you could line him up with your entrance. Taehyung tried being patient, letting you go ahead and take the lead but when your cunt pressed against his tip, slowly taking him in, he couldn’t take it. You gasped suddenly, nails digging into his chest glaring down at him. He had pushed himself all the way inside of you.

"God- fuck-!"

You hissed, resting your hands down on his shoulders before sinking your nails down into his skin.

"Shh, it's alright. Just breathe, okay? Breathe,” he groaned, taking a second himself to get used to your tightness. How do you still feel so goddamn right? “I’m sorry baby, it’s been forever.”

Taehyung sighed, rubbing your waist to soothe the pain down a bit. After about a couple minutes of just waiting there, taking in the size of his cock letting him stretch you all over again. How did you used to take this every day before? You decided to give a little test move, pleasure coursing through your body.

"Oh- god..!" You gasped, not noticing how your body started moving on its own. The feeling of Taehyung’s hips grinding against yours only piled on more feeling to the already intimate feeling. His lip was pulled between his teeth, brows furrowed in concentration letting his hips buck up into yours. Your nails in his skin only working to push him further. He wouldn’t last.

Rocking your hips more, he hissed, Taehyung was practically dying to go rough on you. The strong hands that were once around your waist are now around your hips — a tight grip on them as you felt yourself slowly sliding off to where his tip was still inside you. The sudden feeling of his member slamming back inside sent you on an emotional roller coaster.

He smiled, calming down enough to only be going slow but rough on you. He wanted you to feel all of him, every last inch to remind you what it was like for him to fuck you. Treat you like the good girl you are.

"P-Please-,” you whined out, letting your knees and his hands do more of the work to lift you off his cock, “faster. Fuck, you feel so good."

You gasped out through moans, placing your hands on his chest for support.

"You feel so tight,” he spoke through gritted teeth, feeling yourself getting lifted up and slammed back down- hard too, “I guess I gotta get you used to me again.”

He bent his legs so that his knees were up and his feet were flat on the floor dropping you forward. Your hands slipped off his chest and you came down, hugging him now.

Your hair fell all around him as he thrusted up into you. His free hand came around to the back of your head locking you in place keeping you from moving. “Cum for me, I wanna feel you get even tighter,” he muttered out lips brushing against yours before you bent lower to kiss him. He was practically bouncing you in his hold and with his grip tight behind your neck all you do was wiggle your hips.

“I’m never letting you go, not again,” he growled flipping you over so that he was on top. His pace was brutal, quick sharp thrusts into your heat bringing you on the brink of release, “God, you feel so fucking good. All for me, right?”

“Yes, yes, fuck Tae I’m—I’m—“ he pushed into your cunt to the hilt, keeping you in place and with one final grunt he was letting go, you followed suit, trembling, legs tightening around his waist and he breathed into your neck, teeth scraping against flesh.

It took a minute or two for you both come down, he carefully rolled off of you and yanked the condom off. You looked at it watching the thick glob of cum dribble out. Without saying anything he yanked a throw blanket off the nearest couch and laid it over you. The cold from winter air already taking over once the heat of your bodies dissipated.

He leaned in peppering your skin with kisses making you smile when his hands trailed up your arms. You turned on your side, the night had been long and your body was already feeling sore. He wrapped an around you pulling you against him snuggling close as he whispered by your ear, “I’m gonna write a song about how good your pussy is.”

By morning you both were rudely awoken. Sleeping on the floor after some fucking was not as fun as you thought it’d be. You searched around for your cellphone fighting off Taehyung’s tight grip and pushing your bed head out of your face. He grumbled in his sleep turning away from you as he struggled to wake up. Eyes half closed you answered your ringing phone finally shutting off the god awful sound, “Hello?”

“You haven’t called me today, and I wanted to see if we were still on for later with Namjoon?” Your father’s voice spoke. Instantly your heart dropped as you checked the time. Good. You still had time. You looked back to Taehyung who was rubbing the sleep out of his eyes with tight fists. With a deep sigh you said, “I’m not going.”

“Well a heads up would’ve been nice sweetheart. Please remember that Namjoon will only put up with your attitude for so long,” your father went on. Rolling your eyes at his words you couldn’t help but smile at the same time as Taehyung slipped his arm around your naked waist moving to lay on your thigh, kissing you softly. He looked up at you wanting to hear what you’d say. He had an idea on who might be on the phone.

“Daddy, I’m with Taehyung.” You bit your bottom lip nervously. Taehyung’s heart raced at that, he hid a smile by nibbling against your thigh feeling his heart about to explode.

It was silent, your father’s voice came out low, “What?”

“I’m with Taehyung, and I’m not going to break up with him,” you looked to him for reassurance and he just took your hand kissing your knuckles nodding his head, “And it’s fine if you don’t like it because I’m an adult who is capable of making my own decisions.”

Your father laughed. He actually laughed. “You’re fucking done, don’t come to me crying when you’re done with him.” Click.

Your heart dropped. What? You pulled the phone away, that’s it? A text appeared immediately.

dad | pack your shit and get out of my apartment

dad | you wanna throw your life away for scum like him so be it. but not living off my money that’s for sure

You couldn’t help the tears that began to form in your eyes. Taehyung looked up at you clearly alarmed. “Hey, hey, baby,” he brought you close into a hug, “Hey, it’s okay. Look, I—I go on tour again in about a week. Come with me. You’re on break aren’t you? Maybe you can talk to your professors into letting you do it online? You can pack up your stuff and bring it here. It’ll be our place from now on.”

You shook your head, crying now, “No, I can’t. What if, what if you regret being with me again a-and you realize that I’m not worth all the trouble an—“

He cupped your face, “Baby I would never, please you’re scaring me,” his voice cracked as he grabbed the blanket wrapping it around you, “Let’s get in the shower, relax and then we can talk things over. But I already told you, I’m not leaving you.”

He helped you up, your silence making him feel uneasy, “Did you hear me? I-if you don’t want to lose your dad, that’s fine. We don’t have to—I mean—I know how much he means to you and I would never make you choose. S-so if you want to call him back and tell him you made a mistake I won’t get mad.”

You looked up to him as he struggled to say the words. He didn’t want to let you go but he didn’t want to be reason why you lose everything. He loved you too much to see y—

You hugged him, crying into his chest, “I’m not leaving you either.”

“Oh thank God,” his arms tightened around you, feeling your form against him. Out of the blue you released a giggle through your tears. His brows furrowed, did he forget you’re crazy? Weren’t you just crying? You laughed again as he wiped away tears, “Sorry it’s just, we’re butt ass naked crying.”

He laughed, arm slipping under you and lifting you up bridal style, “Let’s get in the shower, you stink.”

“Hey!”

Shortly after he mumbled, “I’m your daddy now I guess.”

“Shut up.”

::.

ok y’all it’s not the best but it’s not the worst and that’s a win for me. I wanted more rockstar Tae but it was just too much to write and I don’t wanna do a second part

so maybe might do some drabbles. but here’s a moodboard I made while driving.

also if you don’t get the title

basically just saying that even if someone wanted to separate them, they were still gonna come back to each other this time much stronger and in love than before :)

#her dad is an ass #im sorry (not sorry rly)#thanks jk for letting tae knows #ure the HERO for this two lovebirds #m: taehyung #au: idol #au: exes #l: one shot #g: smut #g: angst #t: exes to lovers #rockstar!taehyung

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