in it to jin it ~

When you first read the email from your editor earlier that day, you’d panicked a little, fearing the worst. As head videographer of your college’s yearbook staff, ‘the worst’ meant that something had happened to the multiple videocassettes you’d dropped off the other day. Those tapes contain every event you’ve attended over your entire junior year. Without them, there basically is no video yearbook.

But when you got to the editing room and found the tapes right where you’d left them, you figured Jimin was just being his usual overdramatic self. Probably just needed you to help him pick out a font or something.

He crosses his arms. “Did you watch any of the tapes before you brought them in?”

“Enough to confirm that I actually recorded stuff, yeah, I watched them a little.” You frowned. “Why?”

“Did you notice anything… unusual about them? Any recurring themes, perhaps?”

“Uh….” Themes? You were a videographer, not a cinematographer. “Can you please just tell me what the hell you’re talking about?”

“Oh, I’ll do you one better. Let me show you what I’m talking about.” He clicks on the main tv and presses play on the VCR. As a tape whirs to life, a handsome face flickers on the screen.

It’s a face you’ve seen nearly every day for the last 3 years. Your best friend, Kim Seokjin. He smiles brightly on screen, dark hair hanging in his warm eyes, and your heart flutters as if he were looking at you and not the lens of a camera. From the outfit he wears, a warm-up suit in your school’s colors, you guess this is the video from one of his tennis matches.

After a few shots of him hitting a few serves, he’s replaced by another Seokjin, this one dressed casually, a bright pink and yellow t-shirt and matching shorts, playing hacky sack on the quad with some other students. The camera stays on Seokjin even when he’s not the one juggling the sack. His squeaky laugh fills your ears, making you smile.

“Did you start editing these together?” you ask. “Interesting choice to segue from Jin to Jin.”

“Hmmm, yeah, interesting,” Jimin replies drily.

Hacky sack Seokjin is gone now. Your brow furrows as you watch yet another Seokjin cavorting on the tv, this one shirtless, wearing a white t-shirt and a pair of swimming trunks, chasing members of his fraternity with a hose. Clearly this is from the fundraiser car wash they’d had a few weeks ago. Water drips from his wet shirt, which clings to him as he pretends like he’s going to spray the camera and you audibly gulp.

There’s Seokjin in his choir robes, making you swoon as he sings a solo in his crystal-clear tenor. Seokjin wearing one of his many pastel hoodies, tutoring several students in the library. Seokjin dressed in formalwear, looking like a model rather than a college student, winking at the camera.

But why were these all cut together like this?

Jimin presses pause and the footage freezes midwink. “Do you see the problem yet?”

“I don’t know if it’s a problem, but it’s certainly an unusual approach for a yearbook to focus on only one student, Jimin.”

“Yeah, no shit! That’s the issue,” he sighs.

“Okay. So… why did you pick all of Jin’s shots? Why not throw in some other students?”

Jimin stares at you. “Are you… are you kidding me? I didn’t choose Jin’s shots, I used the only shots you gave me! Each tape is filled with nothing but Kim Seokjin!”

Rolling your eyes, you huff, “Well, it’s not my fault that he’s in every freaking activity and organization on campus! Tennis, choir, President of the environmental club, President of the photography club, President of Beta Tau Sigma… do I need to go on?”

Jimin gives you a stern look. “Sure, he’s the big man on campus who apparently never sleeps, but he’s not the only person in those activities! And yet you made him the star of every video!”

“Fuck off, no I didn’t.” Jimin raises an eyebrow at your protest. “Oh, come on! There’s no way. You’re being a real butthead right now - if there’s a joke here, I don’t get it.“

He pops the cassette out and exchanges it for one with ‘baseball championship’ scrawled across it in your handwriting.

“Ha, Jin doesn’t even play… baseball.” Your elation sputters out as the camera pans over the crowd at the biggest game of the year, only to stop and zoom in on Seokjin, who is trying desperately to start the wave. He’s eventually successful, which you discover because the camera never pans away. Not even when a loud roar goes up as something exciting happens on the field. Possibly the game-winning home run that clinched the tournament for your school - you’re not sure, because all you see is Seokjin.

Jimin stops the tape. “Explain that.”

You can’t.

He sighs, patting your arm. “It’s okay. I was once where you are, a young, lovesick puppy following my crush around. You’ll grow out of it.”

“First of all, you’re only 3 weeks older than me, so you can drop the enlightened elder routine, dude, and secondly, I am not a lovesick puppy!” Seokjin is your friend. Jimin knows that. Why is he being such a tool right now?

Jimin says your name in the most condescending “oh honey” tone he can muster. “You really need to figure some things out, huh?” He hands you the tape of his edits. “Here. Maybe this will help.”

“I don’t…”

“The good news is, I think I can still cobble something together using your tapes and the footage provided by our other videographers.” He winces. “I might have to deploy, like, John Woo-levels of slo-mo in order to pad it out a little here and there, but I’ll figure it out.” He clicks off the tv and stands, and you automatically do the same. “I need some java if I’m going to survive a late-night editing session. Want to hit the coffee hut with me?”

“No thanks. If we’re done… ?”

Jimin nods. “Yeah, I’ve got it from here.” You start to leave and he stops you, calling your name. “You should really watch the rest of that. It might clear a few things up for you.”

“Whatever,” you reply, waving over your shoulder.

As you wander out of the student center, you barely take note of the students who call your name and wave to you on your trek back to your dorm. The video is still in your hand. You gaze at it as if it’s a snake, expecting it to bite at any second. What are you supposed to do with this?

Well, obviously there’s only one thing you can do with that tape.

You watch it.

Thankfully, you are alone in your dorm room, since your roommate is at her boyfriend’s for the night, so you don’t have to explain to her why you’re watching a Kim Seokjin compilation. You’re not sure you could explain it. Especially when you don’t fully understand it yourself.

The scenes you’d watched with Jimin roll by, a montage of Seokjin moments that already live in your head 24/7. You reach the shot of him in his rented tuxedo, mingling with his frat brothers and their dates at their winter formal, and can’t help but admire your friend again.

Jimin chose not to cut to another clip of Seokjin here, though. Instead, he let the tape play.

On your little tv screen, Seokjin sees you aiming the camera at him and laughs, sweeping his long black bangs off his forehead. “Are you going to stay behind that thing all night?”

The camera shakes slightly as your giggles float through the speakers. “Duh, of course. I’m on official business tonight.”

Technically, you were there for the yearbook. But Seokjin didn’t have a date for the evening, so you were also attending the dance with him. Wearing a satiny floor-length gown in your favorite color, the one that really made your eyes pop, you hoped you looked the part of a stunning date even if you were just the best friend helping out.

“Besides, you’re one to talk.” You zoom in on the beloved vintage Fujipet in Seokjin’s hand. You were used to seeing the shiny black and chrome camera at special events. But tonight he’s hardly been without it for more than a few minutes. Mostly during dinner, while wolfing down his meal. “That thing’s practically glued to your hand.”

Seokjin immediately sets the Fujipet down. “Okay, your turn.”

“Jin,” your voice whines, “stop. I can’t!”

“Aish, you take that yearbook too seriously. You’re missing out on so much!”

“Uh, as if! I’m literally capturing everything!” you retort indignantly. Seokjin knows how seriously you take this.

One night, many months ago, while reveling in the freedom of being young and very drunk, you’d given Seokjin an impromptu sermon about your hobby.

“Life is fleeting, Jinnie,” you’d slurred, waving your bottle of beer around. The two of you were sitting on his fraternity’s stoop, enjoying a surprisingly warm winter night. “It’s so fucking short! You have to - have to try to hold on to those moments, you know? Because you blink and poof! They’re gone. That’s why I want to record them all.”

“Them all what?” Seokjin, a bit of a lightweight, struggled to follow your speech.

“Huh?”

“What?”

You both dissolved into giggles as Seokjin leaned against you. After a few seconds, you started again. “My point is, you have to capture those moments if you can. So they live on. That’s what I want to do. I wanna grab that magic and store it away to share with others when they need it. I want to - to capture the world!” Throwing your arms up, you accidentally smacked Seokjin in the face, and the rest of the night disintegrated into drunken laughter and apologies after that.

He knows this is important to you. Maybe that’s why he resorts to begging.

“Yeah, you’re capturing it. But you’re not experiencing it! Come on, put it down for a minute and dance with me. Just one dance! Please?” Seokjin pleads with a pout, throwing you his best puppy dog eyes. He knows you can’t resist that look, and offscreen you hear yourself sigh.

“Fine. One dance. Let me pause.” The image jumps wildly as you place the camera on a table at the edge of the dance floor. It must be lying on its side, based on the way everything suddenly shifts, and you can hear a click like you’ve pressed something, but the tape keeps rolling.

How long is this scene going to run? Jimin must’ve thought it was vital to his little clip show, so you flop over onto your bed, tilting your head to better watch the strange angle on the tv screen. Maybe watching nearly upside-down will bring you more clarity than watching it right-side up did.

Seokjin holds out his hand and leads you to where other couples are already swaying to the music blasting from the dj booth. Since you’re alone now, you grab the remote, cranking the volume high. It’s one of your favorite songs - ‘Kiss Me’ by Sixpence None the Richer.

He draws you close, long arms wrapping around your waist, a comforting weight settling against your back. He’s warm under your touch, soft, but also solid, the silk of his collar brushing against your fingertips as you rest your hands on the nape of his neck.

The camera can only watch from a distance as the two of you begin to dance slowly, but it’s not like you really need the video. You remember that night pretty well, given that you stayed sober so you could film everything. You’d learned your lesson about manning the camera drunk after you tried to record your roommate’s birthday party one year and ended up with 2 hours of nothing but lens cap.

“See?” Seokjin says after a few seconds. “Isn’t this better?”

“Eh,” you shrug, a teasing smile on your lips. Seokjin laughs.

How could you be blamed for wanting to focus on such a gorgeous man? The camera isn’t zoomed in right now, but you don’t need that machine to show you what’s already so strongly emblazoned in your mind. Those expressive eyes that glimmer as he gazes at you. The way his pouty lips part, revealing that brilliant smile you love so much.

“Thanks for coming with me tonight.”

“Of course! What’s a best friend for?” You beam up at him.

“Right…” he replies, chuckling softly. “Best friend…” He trails off, eyes scanning the couples around you as he leads you around the floor.

Even without the aid of the microphone, you swear you can hear his heart beating loudly as you rest your head on his shoulder, just like you heard it that night.

The camera watches as Seokjin says something that makes you lift your head. And once again you’re struck by just how gorgeous he is. But he’s so much more than that. He’s the funniest. The smartest. The sweetest.

Why not make him the center of your videos? The yearbook needs to be interesting, to entertain people, captivate them, make them want to watch it over and over, maybe wishing they could be there, at those games or concerts or even in the quiet moments you’ve filmed, like this one, just you and Seokjin, slowly spinning around the room in one another’s arms, you smiling up at him like there’s no one else in the w-

Oh.

Oh.

Sitting up quickly, the blood rushes directly to your head and you tip backwards into your pillows, woozy. But it’s not just the sudden flush that makes you feel dizzy. A dozen questions pop into your head, causing emotional vertigo.

How the fuck have you been so blind to your feelings? When exactly had you fallen in love with your best friend? And if Jimin knows, does anyone else?

The scene finally ends, and the image of you and Seokjin dancing becomes him spearing trash along a highway with the environmental club. But the song starts up from the beginning again - Jimin must’ve dubbed it overtop. What a ridiculous flourish.

The video carries on, Seokjin after Seokjin after Seokjin flashing on screen (god, how many of these events did you attend together? All of them??) After a few minutes, you begrudgingly applaud Jimin’s skills, because he really cut the shots so perfectly to line u-

“What is this?”

“Fuck!” You bolt upright as Seokjin’s voice scares the bejesus out of you. Scrambling for your remote, you smash the stop button before turning around.

He’s standing in your doorway, eyes wide underneath his messy bangs as he stares at the tv. One hand grips the strap of the backpack hanging off his shoulder while the other plays with the cords on his oversized blue and white hoodie - a nervous tick you’re well-acquainted with.

“I - I didn’t hear you come in,” you stammer.

“Yeah, figured you couldn’t hear me knocking over the music,” he replies, still staring at the blank screen. “Door was unlocked. What was that?”

“The song? ‘Kiss Me’ by Sixpe- “

“Not the song.” He finally glances at you. “I know the song. What the hell were you watching?”

“Well, uh… how long have you been standing there?”

He gives you a look.

You could lie. Make up some sort of excuse, maybe something technical that he might not understand, but you don’t think about it for more than a second. This is Seokjin. Your best friend. You can’t lie to him.

You gesture for him to sit. “It’s something that Jimin edited together for me.”

Seokjin plops himself down on the other end of your bed. “He made you a… a music video? Starring yours truly?”

He seems puzzled. It’d be so easy for you to reach out and press your thumb to the little worry lines between his brows and soothe them away. The urge is overwhelming.

How did you not know you loved him?

“Kinda?”

“What do you mean, kinda?” He laughs a little. “That’s definitely what it looked like. Like watching an Mnet broadcast from an alternate dimension.” He pauses. “But why did Jimin make this for you?”

Nervously, you fiddle with your remote. “He went through all the footage I handed in for the yearbook. Apparently, you’re the focus of every video. Doesn’t matter what I was supposed to be shooting - games, parties, whatever - I only recorded you.”

He looks slightly bewildered at this, even with his thriving confidence. “Only me?”

Nodding, you avoid Seokjin’s eye, feeling heat creeping along your neck. It’s embarrassing trying to explain this. “Yeah. Nothing and no one else. I basically filmed a whole year of The Kim Seokjin Show and he… wanted to point that out.” You shrug, trying to play it cool, but still don’t look at him.

Seokjin’s unusually quiet for a few minutes as he contemplates your answers. Then he scoffs, shaking his head. “Let me get this straight. Jimin put this video together just to critique your work? Seems like a dick move.”

“Yeah, well… if it weren’t for the other videographers, we wouldn’t have enough footage for a yearbook, since mine is basically useless, so maybe his dickishness is a little justified.” You sigh, biting your lip as you realize that you’d pretty much let Jimin and the rest of the yearbook staff down.

“Ah. I see.” He tugs on his hoodie drawstrings, pulling them back and forth. “But would a dick go to the trouble of adding a soundtrack?”

“Honestly, I think he was just showing off with that,” you snort. You finally hazard a glance and find him regarding you carefully.

“Look, I get it,” Seokjin sighs, tossing his bangs out of his eyes as he reclines on your bed. “It only makes sense that you would end up making me the focus of all your videos. I mean, come on.” He gestures broadly to himself, and your lips quirk at his more than healthy self-esteem. “Jimin can’t fault you for that. But if you really wanted some good shots of me for your personal collection, you could’ve just asked for a private performance.” With an exaggerated wink, he throws you an air kiss.

“I’ll remember that for next year,” you roll your eyes, but giggle nonetheless.

He grins. “You should. Anyway… wanna grab dinner?”

“On campus?”

“Nah, let’s do takeout.” He starts rattling off a list of options and you just hum along, relieved.

Thank god it was Seokjin who came through the door and not your roommate or one of your friends. There’s no way any of them would’ve let you off the hook so easily. This is what Seokjin always does - he comforts you even in the most awkward, stressful situations. Like trying to explain why you seem to own a highlight reel of your bff’s greatest moments. He cracks a joke at his expense, makes you laugh, and breaks the tension.

No one else is as thoughtful as he is. No one else cares for you the way he does.

No one else.

“Jimin wasn’t being rude,” you start again when he’s finished listing restaurants. “Well, maybe a little, but no more than usual. I think he was also trying to help me.”

Seokjin twists his drawstrings. “Eh, you’re a great videographer, you don’t need his help.”

“That’s, uh, not what I mean. He was just… it’s that…”

It’s hard to find the right words to explain. All you can do is try. Seokjin’s eyebrows lift, encouraging you on, and you smile, grateful for his patience as you gather your thoughts.

“...he was trying to help me realize what’s been in front of me this whole time. I don’t know when something changed, but it did, and,” you pause, “and, I’m only realizing it now, but I… I…”

He must sense something from your tone, or the way you keep stammering, because he’s suddenly serious, dark eyes studying your face carefully as he says your name. “You what?”

Maybe you should be afraid to tell him. But you’re not. He’s your best friend.

You take a deep breath. “I love you, Jin.”

As long as you’ve known Seokjin, you’ve never seen him stunned silent. He always has a joke or a quip for any situation. Always. But your declaration has rendered him speechless. His face goes completely blank, too. It freaks you out a little.

Panic starts to set in. Did you make a mistake? “It’s okay if you don’t - don’t feel the same way. I just needed you to know.” You give him an out.

No response. His eyes shift, landing on your tv. The screen is still blank but the way he gazes at it makes you wonder if he’s seeing something there. If only you could record whatever’s going on inside his head. Replay it over and over until you understand.

The quiet stretches on too long, eating away at you until you can’t take it anymore.

“Please say something,” you finally implore him.

“I…” he blinks. “Okay.”

“Okay?” What’s okay?

“You love me?”

You nod.

“Okay. I… gotta go.” He slides off the bed and slowly backs away.

“What??” You rise up on your knees, mouth dropping open as he essentially moonwalks to the door. Rooted to the spot, you can only stare as he glances at you, his expression still alarmingly vacant.

“I’ll, uh… yeah….” he mumbles, and the door closes behind him.

Dumbfounded, you stare at it.

“What the fuck?!”

20 minutes pass, according to the clock on your nightstand. You haven’t moved a muscle since he left. It’s like you’re frozen, kneeling on your bed. The air around you feels a little cold, as if he took all the warmth from the room when he left.

It’s strange that you haven’t cried. Seokjin breaking your heart should leave you a sobbing mess, but your eyes are dry. You’re not even sure you know how to cry right now. Maybe you’re in shock.

How could he just walk out like that? His best friend confesses that she loves him and he just says “Okay” and bounces?? Was he that repulsed? Unable to bear the thought of you having feelings for him?

There’s no reason to keep staring at the door, but you can’t tear your gaze away as you wonder what will happen next. You’re supposed to meet him for breakfast tomorrow, before class. Will he skip? Go by himself and pretend not to know you?

Or, simply show up like normal and act like nothing happened?

Somehow, that feels like the worst possibility.

Once again, you’re sinking in endless questions, so you shake yourself free and climb off the bed. You need to get out of this room, get as far away from the tv and that tape, that damn videocassette that started it all. Maybe some ice cream would help. The cafeteria should be fairly empty this time of night, so you don’t have to worry about anyone seeing you when you inevitably break down over your Chunky Monkey.

But instead you yank your door open and Seokjin is there and suddenly you remember how to cry.

“What the fuck…” you utter before you’re too choked up to speak. Tears stream down your cheeks.

Seokjin doesn’t miss a beat. He steps into the room, sweeping you into his arms for a tight hug. “Whoa, whoa, don’t cry! Please, I’m sorry!” He sort of wobbles you around, walking backwards clumsily as you blubber into his shoulder until your legs hit your bed, gently coaxes you to sit. “Shit, I knew I shouldn’t have left like that.”

He grabs you a tissue from your nightstand and you accept it with a glare. A soggy glare, but a glare nonetheless. “Then why did you?”

“Because I needed a minute. I’m sorry, I know it was messed up to just run out on you, but I had to think.” He drops his backpack on your bed and unzips it, pulling out a black metal box. “And I needed this.”

“You needed a photo box?” Sniffling, you pick the box up and turn it over in your hands. There are no labels, nothing written anywhere on the box. You shoot him a confused look. “Explain.”

Seokjin pries the lid from the box and tilts his chin. “Take a look.”

A stack of photos sits inside. The top photo is you, video camera in hand, standing near a chain-link fence. You’re lit from behind by the sun, a bright halo radiating around you.

“That’s at my last tennis match,” Jin informs you.

The next photo is you again, camera held up to your eye as you stand on the quad, head tipped way back, mouth slightly open as snowflakes swirl around you.

“First snow, last year. You were trying to film a snowball fight on the quad, but you kept trying to catch snowflakes on your tongue.” His laugh squeaks like a rusty hinge as his eyes crinkle. “The video bounced so much it gave me motion sickness.”

One by one, you examine the photos. They’re all the same. Caught in profile, you’re the star of every shot, Seokjin’s camera gazing at you while you view the world through your video camera. You keep flipping as Seokjin keeps talking.

“I think Jimin must’ve been exaggerating. Unusual for him, I know,” Seokjin cackles, and you can’t help but grin. “But you have to have recorded other things, other people. Because if you were only watching me, you would’ve seen me only watching you.”

The lump in your throat returns as you look at him. “I don’t understand.”

“I think you do,” he replies softly. “You told me once how much you wanted to capture the world. That stuck with me.”

“It did?” Placing the photos back in the box, you push it aside.

“Yeah. It did.”

“But… these are only photos of me?”

“Right.” Seokjin shuffles nearer, until his thigh rubs against yours. He slides his thumb across your cheek, through the tears that cling there, and your eyes fall shut at his touch. “Don’t you get it? You’re my world.”

Your eyes flutter open. “Jin. Kiss me.”

He leans in and you meet him halfway as his mouth presses against yours. It’s soft, chaste almost, your lips just brushing. Then he tilts his head, cupping your face to bring you closer, and suddenly you’re kissing. Really kissing, mouths parting, tongues colliding, your hands in his hair, his hands tugging you into his lap. You breathe him, touch him, taste him. Him, him, him.

Your Jin.

God knows how much time goes by before you break apart. Jin’s face is bright red as he grins at you. You trace your finger along his plush lips. They’re even more plump now, swollen from the many nips you’ve given them.

“You’re lucky I like you so much,” you murmur, “because that was a pretty corny line.”

“Not a line. The truth,” he replies huskily, kissing your fingertip. “But excuse me, I thought you said you loved me? Not liked me.”

“Ugh, of course the linguistics major would argue semantics.” Will you ever tire of that ridiculous laugh? “I love you, you nerd.”

“You know I love you too, right?”

Joy sings in your chest, spreads through your body. “I was hoping, but you didn’t actually say it….”

“Every day for three years.”

He beams as you look at him skeptically.

“All three years? Every single minute?”

“Yep. Every moment.”

“Prove it,” you challenge him with a raised brow.

“You want me to go get my other photo boxes? This one’s just junior year.”

You weren’t expecting him to back up that claim with photographic proof. You were just trying to get him to kiss you again.

“Say it again,” you command, lips crashing into his. “Please. Again.”

“I love you,” he declares, laying you down. “I love you.” He settles himself on top of you. “I love you.” He nuzzles your lips, your cheek, your neck. On and on, covering you in burning kisses and softly murmured words.

You push him away for a moment, long enough to pull your top off and toss it onto the floor. He sucks in a breath as you unhook your bra and drop it as well.

“Goddamn. Would you look at those,” he marvels. Your head drops back as you laugh. He’s the most attractive man you’ve ever met, sure, but he’s also the biggest dork.

“Do you want to touch them?”

He nods enthusiastically, and you lie back on your pillows, motioning for him to follow. He does so hungrily, mouth immediately sucking one of your nipples in. You keen as his tongue flicks over the tiny bud, waking it up. His hands join his mouth in caressing every inch he can touch.

“Jin,” you sigh, clutching at the hood of his sweatshirt, pulling him back up so you can kiss him. He obliges, but then he’s gone again, lips tracing down your clavicle and running over your other breast. He lavishes both with attention until you’re breathless with want. With need.

His hand plays with the top button on your jeans. “Can these come off?” he asks, eyes round as he peers at you. As if he needs puppy dog eyes right now.

You nod, and he wastes no time undoing the buttons and sliding them down your legs. Then he reaches behind his head and yanks his hoodie off, taking the t-shirt underneath with it. You’d love to tease him about his eagerness, but it would be hypocritical of you, and besides, you’re too busy gawking at his bare chest. His baggy clothes hide the way his broad shoulders taper down to his waist, where the band of his Calvin Klein boxers rides above his sweatpants.

He slides back up your body to kiss you again. This time he lingers, and as his arms come to rest on either side of your head, he rolls his hips into you and you can feel how much he wants this, too. His hard length presses against your core and you whimper into his mouth, running your hands down his chest.

“Jin!” He repeats the movement, your hips lifting to meet his. His hand snakes between you and he slides a finger under the band of your panties.

“Can these come off, too?”

“God yes!”

With a laugh at your zealous response, Jin removes the last bit of clothing you wear. You laid your heart bare before him earlier, and now the rest of you is exposed, too.

His lips hover over yours as his fingers hover above your clit. He slowly draws a circle around the sensitive pearl as he swallows your moan.

“Tell me if you want me to stop,” he rasps, and as you nod, his finger plunges inside.

You’ve always admired Jin’s hands. Those long, slightly crooked fingers move adroitly when he’s playing with his camera or typing on his keyboard. But right now, his lithe fingers are simply pure magic, stroking, rubbing, dipping in and out. You’re spellbound, your kisses getting sloppier as you pant and groan against Jin’s lips.

“Oh god, don’t you dare stop!” you demand, eyes closing in bliss. One of your hands tangles in your bedspread, pulling the blanket up as you grip at it, while the other curls around his bicep, holding on tight.

“I won’t. I’m not stopping until you’re cumming all over me.” Jin’s voice breathes in your ear. You shudder, from the heat, the touch of his lips, the filthy promise. You’ve never heard him use that word before. It sounds so good on his tongue.

“T-tell me,” you moan. Opening your eyes, you see Jin watching you with an expression of lust that makes you clench around his fingers involuntarily, and he draws a shaky breath. He grinds his hips into the bed and you whine at the sight.

“Tell you what?” He drops his head to your neck, sucking gently, painting your neck with red marks that will fade to black and blue by morning.

“What you w-wanna do. To me.”

He lifts his head in surprise. “You like that?”

Other guys had tried talking dirty with you before and you’d played along, but it had never done a damn thing for you. Not until this moment.

“Yeah. Wanna hear you. Tell me what you wanna do to me, Jinnie,” you beg, voice breathless and sweet, and he groans, capturing your mouth in a harsh kiss before pulling away again.

“Fuck, I wanna do everything to you. Make you cum on my fingers, my tongue, my cock.” You mewl loudly, helplessly, at that last word, and he drags his thumb over your clit, agonizingly slow. Keening, you try to encourage him to speed up by bucking your hips towards him. “Oh, you wanna cum on my cock? How do you want it - deep and slow?” He starts to pump his fingers fast, and your whole body feels tight tight tight, like you’re about to snap. “Or fast and hard? Is that better? Throw your legs over my shoulders and fuck you senseless?”

“Ahhhhh, I want it all, please give it to me, please please pl- “ Your voice breaks as your body breaks, comes apart in Jin’s deft hands. You feel his hips bucking into the bed and then he hisses, burying his face in the valley of your breasts.

“Did - did you just - “

“Yeah,” he groans, voice muffled. “I just came in my pants like a fucking teenager.” He lifts his head, looking sheepish. You laugh, affectionately, amazed at how he can be so sexy but so cute at the same time, heart overflowing as he rolls behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“So,” you drawl after a few minutes of content snuggling, “about those things you said you want to do to me…”

“Yeah?”

“...are you waiting for a formal invitation, or…” You grind your ass against him and he tightens his arms around your waist, huffing a laugh into the crook of your neck.

“I’m gonna need some dinner first.” He nibbles on your shoulder. “Let’s take a break. We’ve got the rest of the night. And tomorrow. Every day after that.”

You twist in his arms. “Every day?”

“For as long as you’ll have me.” His gaze is so warm. It’s incredible that you never realized that look in his eyes was the look of love.

“I love you, Jin.”

“I love you too.” He grins. “Now... how about that takeout?”

The early Saturday morning sunshine bathes the street in a flattering pale gold glow, and by the time you’ve reached your uncle’s dry-cleaning shop to open up, you’ve shaken the last of the sleep from your eyes and are ready to go.

Your uncle, Che, has owned this shop for twenty years, inheriting it from your grandfather. It’s part of a small street of shops you’ve known all your life, from Oscar’s convenience store to Maribel the hairdressers, stretching all the way to the shiny new community centre that opened last year.

You unlock the door and scan through the collections list for today. You’re about to start a load of items when the door opens.

A tall, well-dressed man steps in.

You smile at him. ‘Good morning, how can I help you?’ you ask.

He nods politely at you. ‘I picked up a suit yesterday, but it’s still stained,’ he says, holding up the garment bag he’s carrying.

‘Oh, I’m sorry,’ you say, apologetically. ‘May I?’

You unzip his garment bag, revealing a beautiful light grey suit with an ink stain on the lapel.

Your uncle walks into the store as you’re examining the stain. ‘Mr Kim,’ he says, greeting the customer like he’s an old friend. ‘Can I help you?’

Mr Kim tells him what he’s just told you.

‘I’ll take care of this myself,’ Che promises him.

You spend the day taking care of older orders, pressing suits and delicates, double checking the clothes on the collections list.

It’s near the close of business when Mr Kim comes back. You’re on your own, your uncle’s left to pick your cousin up from baseball practice.

He smiles at you as you hand him his now perfect suit.

‘You don’t have anywhere in here where I could get changed, do you?’ he asks, looking a little embarrassed to be asking.

You laugh. ‘Sure. Go in the back and I promise not to look.’

He comes out as you’re finishing off tidying up.

‘Looking good,’ you tell him, amused, as he comes out.

You’re not flattering him, the grey suit emphasizes his broad shoulders, and tapers down beautifully to his trim waist. The trouser length is perfect.

You hold out your arms for the clothes he was wearing when he came in. ‘I can hold on to those here for you, if you want?’

He smiles at you gratefully. ‘Thank you. It’s just, I’m going out to a pre-wedding dinner with some friends, and it’s close to here, so it’s easier than going all the way home.’

‘No problem, where are you going?’ you ask, walking him out of the shop. You pause to lock up, and he waits beside you.

‘Just a little Peruvian place down the road from here,’ he says.

‘Pachamama?’ you guess. You check the door’s locked, pull the shutter down and lock it, and turn to look up at him in the late afternoon sun.

‘Yeah, you know it?’ he asks.

You smile at him. ‘I love it. The food’s amazing, my roommate Dia is one of the chefs.’

‘Do you want to come with?’ he asks, suddenly. He hesitates. ‘I mean, if you’re free tonight.’

You look up at him curiously.

‘It’s a pre-wedding dinner for my friend Namjoon, he’s getting married next week.’ He looks at you, and he almost seems shy, different from the confident persona he has in his beautiful suit.

‘My ex is going to be there, with her new fiancée.’ He smiles suddenly, self-deprecatingly, and it lights up his face. ‘It’s probably silly, but I guess I could use the company. I haven’t seen them together yet, I’ve been worrying about it all week.’

Something about his honesty touches you. Plus you love the food.

‘Sure,’ you say. ‘I need to get dressed though.’

He smiles, and he looks relieved, like a weight’s fallen off his shoulders.

‘I’m Y/N,’ you say.

‘Seokjin,’ he tells you, manners impeccable. ‘Lovely to meet you.’

‘Seokjin,’ you say, testing out the syllables. ‘Do you want to drop by mine whilst I get ready? You’re probably a little early anyway.’

‘I’d like that,’ he tells you.

You take Seokjin to the tiny apartment you share with Dia. She’s on her way out when you get back.

‘I’m out all night,’ she says, waggling her brows outrageously at you and Seokjin, before you’ve even introduced him.

You burst out laughing. ‘Seokjin and I are going to Pachamama tonight.’

‘Seokjin. Great to meet you, I’m Dia. I’ll make sure you’re looked after tonight,’ Dia promises him. ‘Gotta go. I’m running late.’

She hurries out the door, and you smile affectionately. ‘We’ve known each other our whole lives,’ you tell Seokjin.

He’s looking around your tiny living room, barely big enough for two armchairs and a coffee table. The colourful throws over your armchairs liven up the place, as do the plants you painstakingly look after. There’s a breeze coming from your living room window, and a view of the next building. You love your little place.

You pour him a glass of wine from the bottle Dia’s left uncorked. ‘Get comfy, I’ll be twenty minutes.’

You touch up your makeup and slip on a black dress and heels. Your hair is behaving itself today, so you leave it to its own devices.

When you come out of your bedroom, Seokjin is perched by your open window.

‘Hot?’ you ask, sympathetically. ‘It’s boiling up here in the summer.’

He gets up. ‘Just checking out the view. But you are.’

‘But I am?’ you ask, a little confused.

‘Hot,’ Seokjin tells you.

You laugh, flattered despite yourself. ‘You are too,’ you tell him.

He offers you his arm. ‘Shall we go?’

On the walk to the restaurant, he tells you a little about his friends who are getting married. Namjoon works for a publishing company, as does his fiancée, Nara. They went to university together.

The other guests are members of the wedding party, friends of Nara’s and Namjoon’s. His ex, Hana, is good friends with Nara, and one of the bridesmaids.

As you walk into the restaurant, you’re greeted by Miguel, Dia’s boyfriend.

‘Y/N,’ he says, warmly. ‘Dia said you were coming, and bringing a date.’

‘It’s not a date,’ you say, laughing. ‘I’m accompanying a friend to a pre-wedding dinner. Seokjin, meet Miguel.’

‘The rest of your party’s already here,’ Miguel tells you and Seokjin.

As Miguel walks you to your table, you aren’t sure what to expect.

You definitely aren’t expecting the crowd of beautiful people you see. But maybe that was remiss of you, because Seokjin is beautiful, so why wouldn’t his friends be?

A tall man comes up to embrace Seokjin warmly. He turns to you, and you try not to stare at the pretty dimples that appear in his cheeks as he smiles down at you.

‘I’m Namjoon,’ he says. ‘This is my fiancé, Nara.’

You greet them politely. Nara is gorgeous, tall like Namjoon, with a mane of dark hair and legs that go on for days.

The next people to greet you are blond man with an outrageously flirtatious grin who introduces himself as Jimin, and a quiet man with a deep voice called Yoongi.

You’re trying your best to remember everyone’s names.

Beside you, Jin stiffens a little, and you look up to see a very beautiful woman. She’s around your height, and like Namjoon, when she smiles, dimples pop in her cheeks.

‘Jin,’ she says. She embraces him, and you don’t miss the way Jin automatically leans down so she can reach. It’s a learned movement, almost automatic, and you wonder how long they were together.

The handsome man behind her smiles at you. ‘I’m Minho, Hana’s fiancé,’ he tells you.

There are more introductions, more names you try hard to remember, but it’s all a bit of a blur by now.

You settle in with a beer next to Jin. ‘You ok?’ you ask, touching his arm.

He looks at you, and there’s something like gratitude in his eyes. ‘Yeah,’ he says.

He gestures to the menu. ‘What do you like?’

‘Tell you what, why don’t I ask what your friends like and I’ll get Dia to sort us out?’ you ask.

Your idea goes down a treat, and you slip out to the kitchen to see Dia, leaving Jin catching up with his friends.

Dia smiles knowingly at you. ‘Seokjin, huh? He’s hot.’ She calls out an order, and you hope the heat from the warming counter is enough to account for your warm cheeks so she doesn’t tease you.

‘He said I was hot,’ you say.

‘You are hot. That whole table is hot. Tell me why I decided to spend my days in a kitchen instead of being wined and dined?’ Dia rolls her eyes exaggeratedly.

‘Because anyone can be wined and dined but it takes talent to do what you do?’ you ask.

Dia waves you away from the pass. ‘Get out of my kitchen and back to gorgeous Jin. I love you, Y/N. I’m going to make you a meal that’ll make Jin fall in love with you.’

She winks at you. ‘Then I’ll cater your wedding.’

You’re still laughing to yourself as you head back to the dining room.

Jin’s in the middle of a playful argument with one of his handsome friends, when Nara turns to you.

‘How do you know Jin?’ she asks.

‘Oh, I work at a dry cleaners. Jin drops his suits off to us,’ you say.

Nara smiles. ‘That tracks. Jin’s so particular about his clothes.’

‘I just want to do justice to this gorgeous face,’ Jin says, straight-faced.

‘You are pretty,’ you agree.

The food arrives, and to your pleasure, everyone seems to enjoy it, Namjoon, in particular.

Yoongi leans over. ‘Thanks for ordering for us, Y/N, the food is great.’

‘It’s a pleasure,’ you say easily. ‘My friend Dia’s great, isn’t she?’

‘She definitely is,’ Jimin says.

Dinner goes smoothly, Jin’s friends are charming, funny and try to include you in everything. You think Jin’s having a good time as well, he don’t know him that well but to you he looks more relaxed as the evening goes on.

Everyone’s going dancing after dinner, but you’ve got to be in early to open up the dry cleaners tomorrow, so you say your goodbyes.

You turn to Jin. ‘Thanks for having me,’ you say. ‘I had a nice time.’

Jin looks down at you. ‘I’ll walk you home.’

‘It’s only down the block, Jin,’ you protest.

Jin insists. He’s a nice guy, the more you get to know him the more you realise that his politeness seems to be ingrained in him. He’s unfailingly considerate, making sure you had enough on your plate, that your drink was topped up throughout dinner.

You wonder what he thinks of you.

You stop by the steps leading up to your building. ‘I guess I’ll see you around,’ you say, a little hesitantly.

‘Thank you,’ Jin says. ‘I was more stressed about it than I realised.’

You nod. ‘It was a pleasure.’

You’re about to turn away when he says, ‘there’s another dinner tomorrow night. It’s at a great sushi place downtown.’

‘Yeah?’ you ask.

‘Yeah. I don’t know if you like sushi, but I’d love it if you could join me.’ Jin looks at you, waiting.

‘I love sushi,’ you say, and a warm smile blooms on his face.

‘I’ll pick you up at seven,’ he says. ‘We should probably exchange numbers.’

If someone asked, you don’t think you’d be able to explain why your heart feels so light as you skip up the stairs to your tiny top floor apartment.

***

Jin’s running late to pick you up, so you tell him you’ll meet him at the restaurant.

You’re waiting outside, wondering if you should go in, when two of Jin’s friends from last night approach you.

You recognise Yoongi, but you don’t remember the name of the other man. He’s tall, with a tattoo sleeve and an emo vibe you could get behind.

Yoongi greets you with what seems like genuine pleasure in his voice. ‘Y/N. Let’s go in.’

You head into the restaurant with Yoongi and the tattooed man, wondering if you’re dressed up enough. It’s an upscale Japanese fusion restaurant, with a sushi bar and a calming water feature at the entrance.

When you get to the table, Namjoon and Nara are already there, talking quietly to Hana and Minho.

Yoongi’s thrilled when he discovers you watch basketball, and is giving you a play-by-play of the game you missed earlier in the week when the tattooed man leans closer, and says, in an amused voice, ‘don’t mind hyung, he’s been talking about the game all week.’

‘At least Y/N’s polite enough to pretend to listen, Jungkook,’ Yoongi says, rolling his eyes.

You laugh at his expression. ‘I was listening, actually. If you’re in town we should go and catch a game together sometime.’

Yoongi insists on exchanging numbers with you. You’re saving his number on your phone when Jin rushes up to you, a little breathless.

He’s flushed and glowy, and he looks gorgeous as ever. ‘I’m so sorry,’ he says. He focuses in on you. ‘I’m sorry I couldn’t come and pick you up,’ he tells you.

‘It’s ok, Jin, Yoongi’s been talking her ear off,’ Jungkook says, smiling at you mischievously.

Jin looks apologetic as he slides in next to you. ‘It’s fine, Jin,’ you tell him, patting his arm.

In between your entrée and dessert, you excuse yourself to get some fresh air, and stand for a moment admiring the water feature at the entrance.

‘Pretty, isn’t it?’ Jin asks. He smiles charmingly at you. ‘I really am sorry I was so late.’

‘Are you sure you don’t just like making a dramatic entrance?’ you ask, teasingly.

He laughs, self-deprecatingly. ‘Yes, but today wasn’t about that.’ He rubs the back of his neck. ‘I actually got sweaty hurrying here. There was so much traffic the taxi couldn’t get close.’

‘You’re cute when you’re sweaty,’ you tell him, watching the koi carp weave their way through the artificial stream.

‘And you look beautiful,’ Jin tells you.

You smile up at him. ‘I wasn’t sure you’d like my style. You seem like a classic kind of guy.’

‘It’s true, you do look too cool for me. You’d probably match better with Jungkook or Yoongi, clothes wise,’ Jin says, seriously. ‘Maybe you can style me.’

‘I think you’re perfect how you are,’ you say. ‘Lawyer chic is trending now.’

Jin laughs. ‘I actually am a lawyer.’

You chuckle. ‘Nothing wrong with that, Jin.’

He holds out his arm to you. ‘Come on. I ordered you dessert.’

Jin and you have similar tastes in food. He’s pleased when you rave over the matcha ice-cream he’s ordered you.

‘Let’s toast to Nara and Namjoon,’ Jungkook says, lifting his glass.

You lift your glass obligingly, and catch the way Hana’s looking at Jin as you toast.

He’s oblivious, smiling and joking with Yoongi. You glance at Minho, and realise he’s looking back at you. There’s a sardonic curl to his lips as he tips his glass to you.

The plum sake Namjoon has ordered is so delicious you drink way too much of it before you realise how strong it is.

You’re sipping water, trying to ward off the effects of the alcohol, when you feel Jin’s eyes on you. He nudges you, gently, leaning close so no one else can hear.

‘You ok?’ he asks, quietly.

‘I may have drunk too much,’ you whisper to him, worried.

He looks at you, at your wide eyes, your warm cheeks, and a corner of his mouth curls up.

‘I’ll take care of you,’ he says.

Jin orders you more water and a black coffee, and lets you lean into him as everyone else chats.

Yoongi, on the other side of you, passes you his water. He smiles at you kindly when you take a big gulp.

‘Don’t worry,’ he says.

You can feel your whole face heating up. ‘Do I look like a tomato, Yoongi?’ you ask.

Yoongi’s deep chuckle makes you smile. Jin turns to you. ‘I’d say more of a strawberry,’ he tells you. He hugs you to him, and you’re so self-conscious you miss the way his friends exchange glances at the way usually conservative Jin is holding you in front of them.

Jin hails a taxi after dinner. He nudges you. ‘Hey, quiet girl.’

There’s affection in his voice.

‘I’m too drunk to talk,’ you announce to him.

Jin laughs. ‘You’re cute.’

‘I hope I didn’t embarrass you in front of your friends,’ you say, widening your eyes.

Jin laughs again. ‘Please. Yoongi’s already texted me asking when we’re going to see you again.’

‘He’s cute too,’ you say.

‘Cuter than me?’ Jin asks in mock-outrage.

‘Maybe,’ you say. You peer at his face in the darkness of the taxi, and he winks at you.

‘Definitely,’ you say, nodding to yourself.

You fend off his hands as he tries to tickle you.

‘Take it back,’ Jin says, threateningly.

You double down. ‘Yoongi’s the finest man I’ve ever seen,’ you say firmly.

‘He’s the best,’ Jin concedes.

The taxi pulls up outside your building, and Jin gets out to help you out.

You stop outside your door. ‘I can take it from here,’ you say, smiling up at Jin.

He looks beautiful in the light from the streetlamps, his skin gleaming like burnished gold.

He looks at you for a moment, and there’s a flicker of something in his eyes that you can’t quite read.

‘Thanks for another great night,’ you say.

‘Thank you for making it great,’ he tells you. He shuffles his feet a little.

‘The wedding’s on Friday. I’d really like it if you’d be my date. Namjoon and Nara would love to have you.’

‘Is Yoongi going?’ you ask. You smile mischievously at him.

Jin rolls his eyes. ‘Brat.’

You touch his arm. ‘I’d love to go with you,’ you say, and you mean it.

‘It’s a date,’ Jin says.

You unlock your door, and he calls out after you.

‘Make sure you drink water!’

‘Yes dad,’ you say.

He laughs, and it’s the last thing you hear before your door closes.

***

Dia is excited to hear that Jin and his friends loved her food, and even more excited to hear that you’re meeting Jin again.

‘He’s way better looking than Leon,’ she tells you.

You’re sipping water and tucking into the huge breakfast she made you.

Leon is your ex-boyfriend, a guy you met at a club. You knew from the start that he was a great dancer, from your second date that he was great in bed. It took you another two months of dating him to realise he was also incredibly hot headed, impulsive and prone to starting fights.

You don’t mind a bit of drama, but after the third bar fight you pulled him out of, there was a moment when he turned on you - and that second of uncertainty wasn’t something you wanted to relive.

‘Jin’s gorgeous,’ you agree. ‘All his friends are.’

‘I told Miguel I’d use up a free pass on that tattooed guy,’ Dia says, pretending to fan herself. She gets up to refill your coffee mug.

You giggle. ‘How many free passes do you have?’ You know she’d never actually follow through, her and Miguel have been dating since high school.

Dia ignores you. ‘So where’s the wedding?’ she asks.

‘The Albion,’ you tell her.

‘So fancy,’ Dia says. ‘Want me to do your hair?’ She twirls a finger into your ponytail.

‘Sure, baby,’ you say. ‘Thanks for breakfast.’

‘Anytime,’ Dia says. ‘Up for a swim later?’

‘I’ll see you there,’ you promise.

***

You wave goodbye to Che and head down the street towards the community centre to meet Dia.

The community centre is newly built, and in your opinion, great for the neighbourhood. It’s got a pool, tennis courts, an indoor basketball court, a huge hall and baseball field. Your cousin plays little league here.

You swim a few laps with Dia and are walking home with a cherry snow-cone from the cart outside the community centre when you see a familiar frame.

‘Jin?’ you call.

He turns when he hears his name, and a smile spreads over his face. ‘What are you doing in the neighbourhood?’ you ask.

He holds up a garment bag. ‘I came to pick up my dry cleaning,’ he says.

Dia smiles at Seokjin. ‘What are you doing for dinner? I was going to try out a new recipe.’

Jin smiles at her. ‘I couldn’t impose.’

‘There’ll be plenty,’ you assure him. ‘Besides, you know what an amazing cook Dia is.’

‘You are great,’ Jin agrees.

Dia insists on you and Jin taking a walk before dinner so you don’t ‘get in the way’, as she puts it.

You take Jin to the park.

‘I’ve been thinking about you,’ he tells you. ‘I really am grateful that you’re accompanying me to all these wedding events.’

‘I’m having fun,’ you tell him. ‘How are you holding up?’

Jin looks out at the grass in front of him, at the setting sun. His profile is beautiful cast in pinks and oranges.

‘They look happy,’ he says, finally.

‘How long were you together?’ you ask, gently.

‘Five years. I wanted to marry her,’ Jin says. ‘She met Minho at work. She broke up with me.’ He glances at you, and there’s pain in his eyes.

‘That’s tough,’ you commiserate.

‘My family still ask me about her,’ Jin says.

You roll your eyes. ‘I dated a man for 2 months and my mom still asks about him.’

Jin grins at you. ‘That’s harsh.’

‘Tell me about it,’ you agree. You nudge him. ‘Come on. We can drown our sorrows in beer and gorgeous food.’

You walk back to your apartment, and true to form, Dia’s made an incredible meal.

You walk Jin out after dinner.

He leans against your door, and with the top two buttons of his shirt undone, his throat exposed, his hair carelessly pushed back over his forehead, he looks delectable.

You make a concerted effort not to stare.

‘So, see you Friday?’ you ask.

‘I can’t wait,’ he tells you. He leans close, and for a second you think he’s about to kiss you, but he turns away.

You watch him go, trying to calm the fluttering in your stomach.

Dia smiles affectionately at you as you come back up.

‘He’s pretty hung up over his ex,’ she says.

‘Yeah,’ you agree.

‘But he also can’t stop staring at you,’ she points out.

‘Mans got needs,’ you say, pulling her into a hug.

Dia ruffles your hair. ‘I’m just saying, I can’t get a read on him. Proceed with caution, my love.’

‘I’ll guard my heart,’ you tell her.

Dia smirks. ‘You do that. But also climb that man like a tree. Fuck he’s gorgeous.’

You burst out laughing. ‘Thanks for the advice, baby. Now go. I’ll clean up.’

***

Jin rings the doorbell, and you hurry down the steps to greet him.

He’s stunning. He’s wearing a tuxedo, perfectly tailored to fit him, as are all his suits, and his hair’s styled back. You try not to stare at his beautiful lips.

‘Whoa, are you real?’ you joke.

You expect him to laugh, but he’s quiet. Then you realise he’s staring at you.

You shift, a little self-conscious. ‘Do I look ok?’

He blinks. ‘God, I’m sorry you had to ask that,’ he tells you, and warmth blooms in your chest. ‘You look very beautiful. You look perfect.’

He holds out his arm to you. ‘I’m looking forward to having you on my arm tonight.’

You pull up outside the hotel at the same time as Yoongi, Jungkook and Jimin. Yoongi smiles at you warmly when he sees you, and Jungkook immediately pulls Jin aside to complain about how long Jimin took to get ready.

The banquet hall is stunning, decorated with a gold and silver theme. You’re taking a sip of your champagne when Hana and Minho approach you.

‘You look lovely,’ Hana tells you, politely.

‘You do too,’ you say, automatically, but it’s true. Hana’s wearing a beautiful red dress that skims over her figure. She looks expensive, flawless. Minho is equally well-dressed, but in your opinion Jin’s way better looking.

‘This colour scheme is gorgeous,’ Hana comments. She looks up at Minho. ‘We should do something similar for our wedding.’

‘When are you getting married?’ you ask.

‘Next summer,’ Hana replies.

You don’t know if Jin knows, but you know you need to change the subject quickly as he’s making his way over to you.

‘If you like Peruvian food, there’s a new restaurant that’s just opened up downtown that my friend Dia recommends,’ you blurt out.

Minho and Hana look at you strangely.

Jin reaches you then, and you smile at him. ‘We were just talking about Peruvian food,’ you tell him.

Hana turns to Jin. ‘Lovely to see you, Jin.’

Jin smiles at her, and he does that automatic tilt down so she can hug him. This time, it makes your heart squeeze a little.

You get an inkling then that you might be in trouble here.

You can’t develop feelings for a man who’s still pining over his ex.

You excuse yourself and go over to the balcony to get some air.

You’re looking out at the city view when you hear two older women mention Jin’s name.

‘I was surprised that Kim Seokjin and Lee Hana broke off their engagement,’ an older woman wearing black says.

‘It would have been fantastic for their families,’ the woman next to her agrees.

‘She seems happy with Chan Minho, though,’ the first woman says. ‘I wonder if Kim Seokjin’s moved on as well?’

‘He’s here with a girl. She’s not from a family we know, I doubt it’s anything serious.’

You’re a little thrown by this, by your feature in a conversation by people you don’t know. You gulp down the rest of your champagne, and feel a hand on your arm.

You look up and it’s Yoongi.

‘There’s a lot of gossip at these weddings,’ he says, not looking at you. He’s not loud, but his voice carries just the same in the clear night. You follow his line of vision, and realise he’s looking at the two women who were gossiping.

‘They’re about to start, let’s go to our table,’ he says. He holds out his arm, and you slip your fingers into the crook of it.

‘If you’re not from this world, consider yourself lucky,’ he tells you. He looks at you then. ‘People love talking about other people. It's meaningless.’

You smile gratefully at him. ‘I know that, Yoongi.’

He nods. ‘Has Seokjin told you how beautiful you look?’

You tug at your earring, and his fingers come up to straighten it.

‘I’m sure he has,’ Yoongi says. ‘Just in case you need to hear it again, you look stunning.’

He smiles at you. ‘Come on. The food is meant to be excellent.’

The food is excellent, the service impeccable. Namjoon and Nara are well-loved, judging by the speeches and the reactions of the guests. Jin's speech is characteristically sweet and funny. You sigh as you lean back in your seat. You love weddings.

You look around for Jin as the lights go down and the music starts to play.

You spot him, standing beside Hana. He leans down to her, and she takes his arm, smiling up at him.

He doesn’t see you, because he isn’t looking around. He’s only got eyes for Hana, and even you can appreciate how lovely they look, together.

The song that’s playing is slow, romantic. You recognise the singer, it’s one of your favourite songs at a wedding. Jin and Hana dance like they’ve been doing it for years, and you guess they have.

You look around for Minho, and realise he’s looking straight at you. He looks like he’s heading your way, and that makes you a little nervous, so you tap Jimin on the shoulder.

‘Want to dance?’ you ask Jimin. He looks a little surprised but agrees readily enough.

It turns out Jimin is an amazing dancer. There’s not much of a height difference between you, especially in your heels, and it makes it easy to follow his lead.

‘You’re so good!’ you tell Jimin, exhilarated.

He just smiles at you. ‘I love dancing,’ he tells you. ‘You’re a good partner.’

‘There’s a club near Pachamama that does live music on a Thursday, we should go sometime. You’d love it,’ you tell him.

You feel a tap on your shoulder. ‘Mind if I cut in?’ Jin asks.

Jimin lets go of you, telling you he’ll text you when he’s free to go dancing.

If Jimin’s an amazing dancer, so is Seokjin, though not necessarily for the same reasons. Jin is goofy, entertaining, secure enough in his good looks that he doesn’t mind looking silly to make you laugh.

You’re giggling at him when you see his expression change. You follow his line of vision and realise he’s looking at Hana and Minho, dancing together.

‘You ok?’ you ask, gently. ‘We can go if you want.’

‘Yeah,’ he tells you. ‘Let’s get out of here.’

He’s a little quiet in the taxi to your apartment.

‘Hey, you want to come up? We can watch a movie. Dia made this amazing lime granita today,’ you suggest. You can’t bear seeing him so deflated. You know what it’s like to not be over an ex.

Jin looks at you, and you smile. ‘I also have tequila,’ you coax.

The oversized sweats you toss Jin to change into are straining a little around the shoulders, but he looks good.

You put on a rom-com and fix margaritas for you and Jin.

‘To drinking our sorrows away,’ you say, holding up your glass. Jin clinks glasses with you, looking at you curiously.

‘What are your sorrows?’ he asks.

‘I work at a dry cleaners owned by my uncle. I’ll probably never be able to afford to buy my own place in this city. I’m single, and my last boyfriend was more interested in starting fights than spending romantic evenings with me.’ You smile at Jin, to let him know you aren’t entirely serious.

He touches your arm. ‘You’re beautiful, and kind and interesting. You live with your best friend who from what I can see, adores you, and I don’t blame her, because everyone who meets you seems to like you.’ He pauses. ‘And your last boyfriend? He sounds like an idiot.’

You’re touched. You take a sip of your margarita whilst you gather your thoughts. ‘He was an idiot,’ you say, finally. Your eyes meet Jin’s. ‘He tried to fight someone over a spilt beer.’

Jin looks thoughtful. ‘If I were going to fight someone it’d have to be something worth my time.’

You snort. ‘You tried to arm wrestle Jungkook for the last piece of sashimi the other night.’

‘I won, didn’t it?’ Jin retorts, looking proud.

‘Trust me, no one was expecting that outcome,’ you mutter.

‘I paid him to lose. So I’d look good in front of you,’ Jin says.

You stare at him for a minute before you realise he’s joking.

‘What do you know, anyway,’ Jin grumbles. ‘You were tipsy over half a glass of sake.’

You laugh. ‘It was strong!’

‘Thank God we’re already at yours, I don’t have to worry about you being sick in the taxi,’ Jin says.

You burst out laughing. Jin smiles, patting your hand, and you settle in to watch the movie.

You wake up the next morning in a pile of blankets and cushions. Your eyes land on the line of empty salt-rimmed glasses and then you realise there’s a more pressing issue.

Jin’s head is in your lap. He stirs, blinking up at you, and then he smiles. ‘I can’t think of a better way to wake up,’ he tells you, and there’s another dangerous tug at your heart.

‘That’s the tequila talking,’ you say, and it’s probably that you’re a little tired and a lot hungover, but you sound sadder than you’d intended.

Jin’s gaze sharpens on you, and you avoid his eyes.

‘I’ve got to get to work,’ you tell him. You smile, but your heart’s not in it.

‘Feel free to stay as long as you like,’ you say, getting up.

Jin’s back in his wedding suit by the time you’re ready to leave.

‘You ok?’ he asks. He’s still looking at you carefully.

‘Nothing caffeine won’t fix,’ you say. You give him your brightest smile, and are relieved when he seems to buy it.

He walks you to the dry cleaners, waiting as you open up.

‘I had a great time,’ you tell him. You have no idea where you go from here now that the wedding’s over and he no longer needs you as a buffer between him and his ex-fiancee.

Jin smiles. ‘Me too,’ he says. ‘You’re great company.’ It comes out a little flat.

You guess that’s that.

‘See ya, Jin,’ you say. You turn around and step into the shop.

By the time you count to a hundred and look up from the collection book, he’s walking off down your street. You watch him get smaller and smaller until he turns a corner, and then you can’t see him at all.

***

You look up as the door opens.

‘Hi, can I help -‘ The words die on your lips when you recognise Jin.

He’s still in his wedding suit, only now he’s holding two coffees and a brown paper bag.

‘I got you breakfast,’ he says. He waves the paper bag. ‘A cinammon roll.’

You accept the coffee and the roll. There’s a spark of something in your chest that you’re trying not to get too hyped up about.

‘Thanks, Jin.’

He looks at you. ‘I’d still like to see you, you know. If you wanted to.’

Your smile could light up the sky.

‘Yeah?’ you ask.

Jin nods. ‘Yeah. Want to grab dinner on Tuesday?’

‘I have a better idea,’ you say.

***

Your cousin’s doing great at his little league practice game, but that’s not the entire reason why you’re enjoying watching him.

Jin, it turns out, is passionate about baseball.

He cheers, he obnoxiously protests calls he doesn’t agree with and he’s spent most of the game on his feet.

Gorgeous, sexy, well-dressed Jin is apparently a little league dad in disguise.

You choke back laughter as Jin jumps up and down.

‘You didn’t say you felt so strongly about baseball,’ you say, torn between hilarity and affection.

‘If you weren’t so busy gushing over Min Yoongi and basketball, I’d have told you,’ Jin says.

‘Gushing,’ you say, thoughtfully.

Jin shoots you a look. ‘Gushing,’ he says, firmly.

You sit back and admire his ass as he waves it in your face for the rest of the game.

You stop by to congratulate your cousin, Felix after the game. Che seems pleased to see you and Jin. He invites you both over for dinner but you decline.

Jin and you have plans. You take him to a tiny Italian restaurant on your block, where he raves about the clam linguine like it’s the second coming. After dinner you walk through the park and get ice cream.

By the time you get back to your apartment, it feels like the best first date you’ve ever had.

Jin lingers on your doorstep, seemingly reluctant to go.

You look up at him, half shaded in the fading daylight, and reach out, pulling him a little closer to you.

He tilts his head down, and your lips meet.

His kiss is sweet, chaste almost, but there’s nothing innocent about the way he looks at you when he pulls away.

‘You’ve got no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,’ he says, voice lower than you’ve ever heard it.

You look up at him, wide eyed, and almost as though he can’t help himself, he leans forward to kiss you again.

Your second kiss is better than the first, and your breathing is slightly erratic when you break apart.

‘Jin,’ you say, pressing a hand to his hard chest.

He puts his hand over yours, briefly. He presses a kiss on your forehead.

‘Call you later?’ he asks.

‘Yeah,’ you say.

***

You get a text from Jin once you’re in bed.

Jin: So my friend Taehyung’s just got engaged, and he’s throwing an engagement party next weekend in a fancy hotel in a vineyard. I’d love for you to be my date if you’re free.

Y/N: I’d like that.

Jin: It’s a date.

***

Jin picks you up early on Saturday morning, in his own car.

He puts your overnight bag in the back and waits as you buckle yourself in.

‘So I booked a hotel room for us to share. I hope that’s ok,’ he says.

You look at him. ‘I don’t know, do you snore?’ you ask.

Jin shakes his head. ‘I just don’t want you to feel like there’s any expectation on you, just because we’re sharing a room.’

‘We have slept together,’ you point out.

Jin gives you a mischievous smile. ‘That’s true. Maybe we can do it with less clothes this time.’

You nod. ‘Wouldn’t want to overheat,’ you say, solemnly.

***

This time, Yoongi and Jimin greet you like old friends, and you realise you have missed them.

Jin has your things brought up to your room whilst Yoongi and you organise a wine-tasting session for all four of you.

You’re on your way up when you see Hana and Minho. They’re walking together, but their interaction seems a little off. They’re not touching at all, and barely looking at each other.

After the wine-tasting, you and Jin are pleasantly tipsy.

Taehyung and his fiance, Jia, are as lovely as all of Jin’s other friends. They’ve organised dinner outdoors.

Jin seems a little distracted during dinner, and you’re about to ask if he’s ok when Hana taps his shoulder.

‘Can I speak to you after dinner?’ she asks.

Jin looks at you, and you hope your smile hides your uncertainty.

‘Of course,’ Jin says.

Yoongi asks if you want to take a walk after dinner, but you beg off, saying you’re tired.

You plan to stay up until Jin gets back to your hotel room, but eventually you fall asleep.

You’re woken by Jin’s lips on your neck.

He feels good, so good.

You turn towards him. His hands are warm, pulling you to him. You can barely see him in the darkness of your hotel room, but you’d know his silhouette anywhere.

His hard chest presses against yours, and the weight of him on you has your legs falling apart for him.

‘God, you’re so sweet,’ he tells you. ‘You taste so good.’

He kisses down your neck, tongue dragging across your skin.

‘Hana,’ he murmurs.

You freeze. You’re grateful for the darkness, because you wouldn’t want anyone to see the expression on your face.

How devastated you are.

You’d known Jin wasn’t over Hana, and you’d let your foolish heart trick you into believing otherwise.

Jin clicks on the bedside lamp, and your humiliation is complete.

You swipe away the traitorous tears that have sprung into your eyes.

The fact that he looks as dismayed as you feel brings you little comfort.

‘Y/N,’ he says.

You sit up. ‘I need some air,’ you say. You can barely get the words out.

‘No, it’s late,’ Jin says. ‘I’ll go.’

He grabs his coat and is out the door.

You leave anyway.

***

Jin’s got a headache. He massages his fingers over his temples, glancing at the clock. He doesn’t have any other client appointments today. He decides to head home.

He takes the subway home, and as always, he feels a pang as he passes what he always thinks of as your stop.

When he reaches his apartment he puts the TV on. The movie you watched together is playing. He turns the TV off and thinks of you.

It’s been a month since he saw you last, and he’s spent a disproportionate amount of time thinking about you considering you only met up a few times.

He remembers the circumstances in which you parted ways, and part of him still feels sick about it.

He’d left the hotel room to give you some space after his unfortunate slip, and when he got back you were gone.

He has no idea how you got home, but he knows you did because he went to your apartment.

You’d come out the door the next morning to open up the shop. If you’d turned your head, you would have seen him gaping at you like a deranged stalker.

But you hadn’t. You’d walked down your front steps, heading down the street in the early morning. He’d wanted to follow you, to get you a coffee, to apologise, but he hadn’t done any of those things.

He shouldn’t have brought you into this. It wasn’t fair on you to be a crutch to help him heal after his breakup with Hana.

He hadn’t been able to stop himself, though. You’d just been so generous with your time and your love. The time he’d gone to your cousin’s little league game, he’d seen how everyone in your community greeted you, how you’d had a kind word or a joke to exchange with everyone you met.

You were so warm, and you made him feel good about everything.

And fuck if you weren’t so pretty you made his trousers feel a little tighter every time you looked up at him.

Jin sighs. He gets in the shower, makes himself dinner and thinks about you until he falls asleep.

***

‘Your two o’clock’s here, Mr Kim,’ Jin’s assistant, Yeri announces.

‘I wasn’t aware I had a two o’clock,’ Jin says, frowning.

‘She says she knows you personally. Ms L/N?’ Yeri asks, snapping her gum.

Jin raises his eyebrows. He has no idea who to expect, but he’s definitely not expecting you to walk into his office.

Jin stares at you for a moment before remembering his manners. ‘Y/N,’ he says, coming out from behind his desk. He stops short a couple feet away, thinking you might not want the hug he was about to give you.

You look up at him. ‘I need your help,’ you say.

‘You have it,’ Jin says. His first thought is that you’re pregnant and he’s the father. Then he remembers what happened the one time you came anywhere close to having sex, and he cringes internally. He’d be unbelievably lucky to ever get a shot like that again.

He realise you’ve been looking at him through his entire embarrassing internal monologue, and he flushes.

‘Please, sit, tell me how I can help,’ he urges you, gesturing to the chair set up in front of his desk. He sits in the chair next to it.

‘You said you were a lawyer,’ you say. ‘I thought you might be able to help, or that you might know someone who could. They’re trying to tear down the community centre to develop more housing. I want to stop them.’

Jin was not expecting this. But damn, this is right up his street.

‘I do real estate law,’ he tells you. ‘I can help.’

You look so relieved he reaches out to put his hand on yours.

Jin pulls up his tablet and makes notes as you talk. Once he thinks he’s got all the information he needs to proceed, you hesitate.

Jin nods encouragingly at you. ‘Anything else you think might be useful to know?’ he asks.

You shake your head. ‘Your fee.’ You look worried. ‘The community’s done a collection – I’ve got enough money for your retainer fee but you’ll need to keep me up to date –‘

Jin interjects smoothly. ‘A proportion of my work is pro bono. A case like this fits the bill perfectly.’

You raise an eyebrow at him, skeptically.

Jin looks back at you, impassive. He knows his poker face is good.

Finally, you nod. ‘Thank you.’

‘I’ll get some preliminary work done, and I’ll organise a time for us to meet next week,’ Jin tells you.

You get up, and Jin says, ‘Wait.’

‘I’m sorry,’ he says. ‘About what happened at the hotel.’

You look at him, eyes searching his. ‘It’s ok, Jin,’ you say, finally. ‘You were going through a rough time.’

‘It’s not ok. I don’t even know why I said it,’ Jin says.

‘Freudian slip,’ you murmur. You flick your eyes up at him, and there’s a spark in them that he didn’t think he’d see directed at him again.

Jin laughs, despite himself. ‘What I mean is, it was disrespectful, and it didn’t reflect how much value I place on the help you gave me.’

‘Because you did help me, so much,’ Jin says, wanting you to know how much he means it.

You smile up at him. ‘I’m glad. I’ll see you next week, Jin.’

‘Wait,’ Jin says, as you step towards the door. You stop, and now he can definitely see a spark of amusement in your eyes. ‘I’m meeting Yoongi and Jimin for dinner. Would you like to join us? They’d love to see you.’

You tilt your head at him.

‘Seafood,’ Jin says, coaxingly.

You laugh, and his heart leaps in his chest.

‘Is that all you got, Mr Kim?’ you ask, a teasing note in your voice.

‘Lobster,’ says Jin. He walks beside you as you step out of his office.

‘Swordfish,’ he says, as you walk down the corridor to the lifts.

‘Tuna!’ he calls, as you get in the empty lift.

‘I’ll pick you up at 7,’ he says, quickly. He has just enough time to see the smile on your face before the lift doors close between you.

***

Yoongi is doing an uncanny impression of drunk Jimin, and he has you in hysterics.

Jin passes you a drink when he’s sure you’ve calmed down enough to drink it safely.

Jimin pouts at all of you. ‘I was NOT drunk.’

Yoongi bursts into song again, and Jin joins in. He’s got a surprisingly good tenor, and his rhythm isn’t bad either.

‘Was I drunk, Y/N?’ Jimin asks.

‘I’m sorry Jimin, you were trashed,’ you confirm.

Yoongi looks at you, straight-faced. ‘You also got drunk on a thimbleful of sake, if I recall correctly.’

You’re outraged by his lack of loyalty.

Jimin laughs, delighted. ‘You’re never going to be able to wash your clothes now,’ he tells Yoongi, gleefully.

You stare at them, confused.

‘Because you work at a launderette,’ Jimin points out.

‘It’s a dry cleaners. She works at a dry cleaners,’ Jin says to Jimin, clapping a hand to his forehead dramatically.

Now Jimin’s confused. ‘It’s synonymous!’ he protests.

‘No, a dry cleaners isn’t the same as a launderette,’ you say. ‘Why does Yoongi need to go to a launderette anyway?’

‘My washing machine’s broken,’ Yoongi says. He seems genuinely upset about it.

‘I mean, you can use my machine if you live close,’ you offer.

Jin puts an arm out and pulls you to him. ‘God, why are you being nice to him. He was just teasing you!’

Your lips are so close to his throat you can smell his cologne, fresh and piney.

‘I like him,’ you say. ‘I have a thing for mean, grumpy men.’

Yoongi chuckles. ‘It’s the irresistible Min charm,’ he says, deadpan.

‘It’s the irresistible Yoongi charm,’ Jimin echoes. ‘Capable of dropping all panties within a twenty-mile radius.’

‘Sounds dangerous,’ you say, finishing the last of your drink.

Jin walks you home after dinner, as always.

‘Thank you for coming out with us,’ he says to you. ‘I’ve missed your company.’

‘I had a great time,’ you say, and you mean it.

He looks at you a moment longer, then nods, turning away.

You watch him go for a bit.

‘Go inside. It’s dark,’ he calls out. He looks back at you.

‘Yes dad,’ you call back.

He laughs, waving a hand at you. He gives you another smile over his shoulder before he goes.

***

When you get upstairs, Dia and Miguel are making out on the kitchen counter.

‘I’m sure this contravenes all food hygiene regulations,’ you say dryly.

Dia turns to you, waving a hand. It takes you less than two seconds to notice the new sparkly diamond on her engagement finger.

You clap a hand to your mouth and scream.

Dia grabs you in a hug and you squeeze her. ‘Congratulations, my love!’ you say, kissing her on her forehead.

You turn to Miguel. ‘Congratulations, Miguel. Remember even after you’re married I can still kick your ass.’

Miguel laughs. ‘I’ll look after her with my life, I promise you,’ he tells you, rather sweetly.

Dia pours out champagne for all three of you from the half-empty bottle.

‘To my two favourite people,’ you say, lifting your glass in a toast.

‘To my two favourites,’ Dia echoes. She smiles at you, affectionately.

After you finish your champagne, Dia leaves with Miguel to go to his place, smirking suggestively at you before she leaves. You have no doubt Miguel is going to be a happy man in the morning.

You flop on your bed, already planning how you’re going to get everyone together for the bridal shower.

***

Jin’s talking about zoning laws and procedural errors, and you’re just watching the way his lips move. He’s wearing a navy suit today, shirtsleeves held together with silver cufflinks. He’s got a waistcoat on.

You’d never realised you had a thing for men in three-piece suits.

You make brief eye contact to pretend like you’re listening, and go back to admiring him.

The thing you’ve always liked most about Jin is the way he carries himself. He’s confident, just shy of arrogant, and he pulls it off with aplomb. He behaves like privilege is his birthright, and as someone who’s always lived alongside privilege but not always with it, you’re fascinated.

Jin makes eye contact with you again, and it takes you a second to realise he’s stopped talking.

You nod. ‘I agree.’

‘You’re not listening. I can tell when someone’s not listening and they’re just having sexual fantasies about me,’ Jin says.

He raises an eyebrow at you. ‘It happens a lot.’

You lean forward slightly. ‘Actually, I can also tell when people are fantasizing about me,’ you tell him.

Jin’s poker face is good, but his lips press together just a fraction as you lean even closer.

‘I can also tell when someone’s checking out my ass,’ you tell him.

Jin doesn’t break eye contact as he says, ‘You do have a great ass.’

He licks his lower lip.

‘Trust me, Jinnie, if you ever get to touch this ass, you’ll be saying my name and no one else’s,’ you tell him.

Jin smirks. ‘Actually, given my track record, I’d prefer if we didn’t say any names in bed. You can call me daddy.’

You snort. ‘No chance.’

Jin shrugs. ‘I’ve told you what I like. Maybe one day you’ll indulge me.’

‘Not saying names doesn’t negate the thoughts behind them,’ you point out.

Jin pauses then, and his voice is serious when he speaks. ‘I never meant to hurt you, Y/N.’

You break eye contact because he’s threatening to make you feel things again, and you’re not sure your heart can take a second strike.

‘Anyway, the other thing I wanted to ask, was if you knew any good places where I can throw an engagement party for Dia and Miguel,’ you say, straightening your skirt.

‘Yes, actually,’ Jin says. ‘I was thinking of you the other day. There’s a new place that’s just opened up down the street from me. It has great cocktails, and a rooftop bar.’

‘Where do you live?’ you ask, curious. You’ve never been to Jin’s apartment.

‘Tell you what, I’ll take you out for drinks after this. You can check out the bar, and my apartment,’ Jin suggests.

‘I’m not calling you daddy,’ you say.

‘Are you pouting at me?’ he asks.

You’ve never picked up dom vibes from Jin before, but he’s suddenly got an edge to him that you’re intrigued by.

‘I’m not pouting,’ you say. You look up at him.

His hand comes up, fingers curling under your chin. His thumb traces along your lower lip.

‘Your pretty mouth,’ he muses.

You shiver.

‘One of the regrets of my life is what happened in that hotel room,’ Jin tells you. His eyes are intent on yours. ‘And I’ll spend all of my time making it up to you, if you’ll let me.’

You don’t know what to say to that, but Jin doesn’t wait for an answer.

He leans forward to kiss you, once, and you sigh as he pulls away.

‘I’ll see you later, for drinks,’ he tells you.

You make it back to the dry cleaners, but you have no recollection of how you did it. All you can think about is Jin’s lips on yours.

***

Jin’s right. The rooftop bar is perfect for an engagement party, and the cocktails are damn good.

He smiles at you over his ridiculously pink drink.

‘What do you think?’ he asks.

‘It’s perfect,’ you reply. ‘Thanks for the recommendation.’

Jin grins. ‘It reminded me of you when I came here. The music’s great, the vibe is relaxed, and the view is stunning.’

‘You did good, Jin,’ you concede.

Three cocktails in and you’re struggling to take your eyes off Jin. He’s not faring much better, leaning close, staring at you.

‘Want to see my apartment?’ he asks.

‘What’s my name?’ you ask, only half-joking.

‘You’re Y/N. You’ve got the prettiest eyes I’ve ever seen and your ass is second to none,’ Jin says.

You reach out and tug at his loosened tie.

He tilts his head down, lips hovering over yours.

‘Let’s go,’ you tell him.

Jin’s apartment is gorgeous, modern and spacious. You want to look at the photos on the wall, but that’s going to have to wait, because Jin’s taking his suit jacket off, and damn, his shoulders are distracting.

He crowds you against the wall, so close you can feel the heat radiating off him.

He tilts his head down, and kisses you. The touch of his lips sends a throb through your veins. He tastes sweet, but there’s nothing sweet about the way his hands are roaming over your body.

‘I’ve wanted to touch you like this for so long,’ he tells you. One hand slides around the back of your neck, tangling in your hair as he takes his fill of you.

You run your hands over his shoulders, and they’re gorgeously firm. He grips your ass, pulling you tight against him.

You’re unbuttoning his shirt to run your hands over his skin, and he’s unzipping your skirt. You wriggle a little, and it falls past your hips into a silken puddle on Jin’s floor.

Jin pulls back to stare at your panties.

‘Sweet,’ he murmurs. He takes your hand. ‘My bedroom’s here.’

You walk across his living room, and hesitate at the doorway.

Jin looks down at you. ‘We don’t have to go in there,’ he tells you. ‘You don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for. But I promise you that when you do, it’ll be just you and me in there. There’s no one else, Y/N.’

Your eyes meet his, and you take a step into the room.

Jin walks you backwards onto his bed. When the backs of your thighs hit the mattress, he keeps going, until you’re lying across his bed.

Jin lays down next to you, his shirt half unbuttoned. You tug at his shirt.

‘Off,’ you say.

Jin sits up and starts unbuttoning. When he looks back at you, his eyes widen a little.

You’ve slipped your silky blouse off, and all that’s left is rose coloured lingerie that makes your skin pop.

‘You’re beautiful,’ he breathes.

‘Right back at you,’ you say. Jin’s face has always been beautiful, but there’s a manliness to the shape of his body that has you feeling a little weak.

His broad shoulders taper into a taut waist, and there’s obvious strength in his arms as he supports himself above you.

‘Can I touch you?’ he asks.

‘God, yes,’ you reply. Jin doesn’t need further encouragement, laying kisses on your breasts as his hand slips over your panties.

You tug your panties off your hips because you think he’s the kind of man who’d drive you half-insane with teasing, and you don’t want to wait.

‘Eager,’ Jin says, but he doesn’t sound mad about it.

His full lips close over a nipple as he strokes you, fingers sliding in between your folds.

You tighten around him, and he sucks in a breath. ‘You’re killing me,’ he tells you.

You’re so wet, so ready you feel like you’ll implode if he doesn’t get inside you.

‘Jin,’ you say, voice strained.

‘Baby,’ he says. You aren’t sure if he’s not using your name on purpose.

He winks at you, mischievously.

You’re about to tell him off when he climbs on top of you, and what feels like a very hard cock pushes at your entrance.

‘Ready?’ he asks, and now he’s the one who sounds strained.

You gasp as he pushes his way in. ‘Ngh,’ you moan.

Jin wants to make you laugh again but god, you feel so good. ‘So good,’ he tells you.

He thrusts into you, one hand coming up to curl around your neck, pressing a little.

‘You look so good on my cock,’ he tells you.

You’re beyond words, legs locked around his hips. You reach down to stroke your clit, and Jin groans. He lowers his head to suck at your tits, and then you’re cumming, orgasm flaring through you, making your toes curl and your back arch.

Jin calls your name as he cums, says it again and again like he can’t stop. Finally he collapses next to you, pressing his lips to your heated face. He whispers things to you, and you don’t quite hear all of it, but you think it’s all good.

***

You’re at work when Dia calls you. She sounds breathless.

‘You need to call Jin and get your ass over here,’ she says. ‘Bulldozers have just arrived outside the community centre.’

You call Jin as you lock up the shop. He answers within a few rings.

‘Y/N,’ he says. ‘Are you ok?’

‘There’s bulldozers outside the community centre, Jin,’ you tell him.

Jin swears. ‘I’ll be right there,’ he tells you.

You stop by each store on the street on the way to the community centre, telling everyone what’s happening. By the time you get there, you’re walking within a large crowd, and there's more people already there with Dia.

You join hands with Dia and form a wall of people in front of the community centre. You can see the men in the bulldozer cabs on their phones, calling whoever’s hired them to do the job.

The foreman steps forward. ‘We don’t want to cause any trouble here, but we’ve been hired to tear this place down.’

You’re about to speak when a taxi screeches to a halt on the street in front of you.

Jin steps out, and you hear Dia suck in a breath beside you.

You don’t blame her. He looks like a literal, heaven-sent angel.

Everyone’s looking at him, and Jin takes it in his stride. He walks straight up to the foreman.

‘I’ve called your boss about the highly illegal stunt he’s tried to make you pull. The zoning overlay’s been permanently redacted. I suggest you leave, and take a contract from another developer. One that isn’t trying to hang you out to dry.’

The foreman signals to his team, and murmuring runs through the crowd as the bulldozers pull away.

The clapping starts, tentatively at first, then it’s a full blown round of applause with cheering. It's making you feel all warm inside. People are shaking Jin’s hand, thanking you and Dia, you think that maybe you’ve helped to achieve something worthwhile here today.

‘Free pass?’ Dia asks, twinkling at you as she tilts her head towards Jin, currently being embraced enthusiastically by Guiseppe, the owner of the Italian place you took him to on your date.

You laugh. ‘You know I love you, Dia, but I’m about to rail that man ten ways to Sunday tonight, and I don’t want to share.’

‘Fair,’ Dia says. ‘You can tell him I think it’s really fucking sexy what he just did.’

Back at your apartment, you show Jin just how fucking sexy you think he is.

Afterward, Jin lays flat on his back, sheet carelessly draped low over his hips.

‘Fuck,’ he utters. ‘You got anything else you want me to get done for you?’

‘I’ll let you know,’ you say, still a little breathless from your orgasm.

Jin props himself up and leans in close to kiss you deeply. ‘You do that,’ he says, smiling at you.

***

You love weddings, you always have. Dia and Miguel decided to have their wedding at the community centre, and your whole community pitched in with decorations and food.

You smile fondly at Dia, and she blows you a kiss as she slow dances with Miguel.

Beside you, Jin holds your hand in his. He brings your intertwined hands up and presses a kiss to your knuckles.

‘You ok, baby?’ he asks.

You look over at him and nod a yes.

You think you’re going to be all right.

“Oh,” you say meekly, “I want one here.” You take his hand and press it against his chest, in the valley of your breasts. “What do you think?”

“It suits you,” Jungkook breathes, “Can I design it for you? I’ve thought about this day for a long time. The day you’d let me tattoo you.”

“Really?”

He nods, absently squeezing your tits. “Do you have any ideas in mind?”

“Umm… you know how you have your birth flower? Maybe something with my birth flower? To match. If you want, I mean-”

“You wanna match me?” Jungkook murmurs, pressing his lips to your temple.

“It reminds me of you. Even though it’s my birth flower, it reminds me of you.”

He ends up tattooing your birth flower in the valley of your breasts, with a green butterfly sitting on top of the flower. Jungkook had spent a week designing the tattoo, adding his own special touch. Hours of tender touches of his favorite pencil to his sketchbook in his office had been put into this tattoo.

It had to be perfect, of course. And he is nothing if not meticulous.

This time, you had been in the seat at the parlor shop and despite all of your bravado before arriving to this moment... Claiming that you were ready for the needle to pierce your skin and for ink to neatly spill across your chest… You eye the needle warily on the tray next to you as Jungkook puts his black gloves on.

“Scared, baby?” Jungkook asks smoothly, as if he’s done this hundreds of times before. He has, but still.

“Not scared, nervous,” you muse, “Not everyday a needle that big is in your face-”

“You’re used to bigger things in your face, princess,” Jungkook says smugly, earning himself a roll of your eyes and a smack to his arm by you. “Careful. I could just tattoo my name on your forehead.”

“Do something a little more romantic and tattoo your name right on my tits,” you reply. You feel a little more settled, Jungkook easing the nerves out of you. As he always does. “Okay. Let’s do this.”

Jungkook settles next to you and pulls the curtain in the booth closed to provide you both some privacy. You peel out of your flannel (it’s his and it’s big, nice and loose over your frame, making it easy to button and unbutton) and lay in the chair.

He can’t resist touching your chest. Your nipples harden.

He notices, giving you a wry grin. “Ready?” Jungkook murmurs, squeezing your hand absently.

“Yeah,” you say faintly, watching his eyes shift focus. His eyes are sharp, watching your every breath and movement. Everything else falls away as his jaw tenses up and he gets ready for his job. You’ve never seen him in action at the tattoo parlor, not like this at least.

Watching him in his element almost distracts you from the sharp sting of the needle. His eyebrows knit together in concentration, lips pursed together and hands meticulous.

He had already finished outlining the tattoo on your skin and now you’re ready for the actual process. Jungkook is quiet as he studies his outline, making sure everything is aligned. He exhales in satisfaction, rubbing your cheek with his gloved thumb.

“Alright, baby. Let’s do this.”

“Good girl,” Jungkook murmurs. You’ve been squirming slightly for the last few minutes, getting a little restless. But because of a few scoldings and squeezes from Jungkook, you were trying your best to sit still. You stare at the ceiling, ignoring the absolutely gigantic needle in between your breasts. Jungkook is careful to not brush his hair against your skin. He knows you’ll flinch.

He’s so close to you, the scent of his mild cologne washing over you. You focus on that, instead of how your ass is starting to get sore from laying down like this.

“Stay still, baby,” Jungkook says absently. You stiffen once more.

“Sorry,” you mumble.

“No worries,” Jungkook says, “Tell me a story, baby.”

“Umm… I had some noodles today, from that place my boss told me about. She bought us all lunch.”

“Wow, without me? You know how much I love noodles,” Jungkook says, not taking his eyes off of your chest, focused on the lines and trails of ink embedded on your skin.

You hum, casting your eyes on the lines of Jungkook’s concentrated face. He’s so sexy in his element, nearly sitting on top of you to make sure he does the most perfect job that he can. He’s close enough for you to drop a kiss to his forehead, or run your fingers through his hair.

You’re suddenly overcome with the desire to kiss him. His arms are steady and his fingers ebb and flow over your chest, his biceps glowing in the bright light above your head with each slight movement.

You internally groan. How exactly are you going to make it the next few hours like this? You wonder if he’s as affected as you are. But he’s clearly more professional and put together than you- his eyes zeroed in on your chest and paying absolutely no mind to your perked nipples.

You get caught up in the way his hair shines in the light, resisting the not so sudden urge to run your fingers through his hair. The irritation in his scalp has subsided, thanks to his haircut and removal of the purple dye (as well as your tea tree oil massages).

He’s always handsome, but with his bangs wispy over his exposed forehead, it’s different to you. You’ve known Jungkook through many different hair colors and hairstyles through the years. Jungkook is hot no matter if his hair is long or short, cherry red or cotton candy pink or black.

But this is different for some reason. He looks so comfortable like this, the sleeves of his cotton, black shirt pulled back and showcasing the tattoos that run up and down his arm and his neck. Maybe it’s because he looks so comfortable that this is stirring something different in your belly.

You’ve been feeling this funny feeling for a while and you can’t quite place what it is. Truthfully, it’s always been present, always lingering. Even when Sora was in the picture, it was always there. But lately, maybe over the last few months, it’s grown and festered more and more.

It’s his presence adding safety, love and comfort to your life. You want more, you want him all the time. You’re already with him quite often, but still. You still have your home and he still has his. Even if you’re together for much of the time, you still feel separate. Even if nearly half of his belongings are in your home, it still feels like it’s not enough. Jungkook is so, so close, but still so far.

You want the comfort that comes with knowing he’ll be next to you in the mornings, that you’ll be getting into bed together. While many of your mornings and nights are spent this way… you still want more. All of him, unconditionally.

You want the comfort and love that would reflect on your shared kitchen counter, in the leftovers in your fridge. In the way you might peel a clementine for him. In a place that you both created together.

That’s what you want. You want something together, specifically for you both. You want to build a home with him.

With that realization, you stop twitching and Jungkook continues with the lines of your tattoo.

It takes a few weeks for your tattoo to heal (and for you to put in words what it is you want to ask Jungkook). He’s observant, as always, but he doesn’t push you when you tell him that you’re thinking about something but you need some time to understand what it is you’re thinking.

The truth is, you’re so sure about this. You’re so sure about him. But your nerves keep getting the best of you. However, you’ve decided that tonight is the night.

Tonight is the night that you’ll tell Jungkook you want to move in together.

You put on your favorite pair of jeans (the one that makes your ass and legs look phenomenal) and set your tiny dining table with dinner for you and Jungkook. You’d told him in the afternoon that you wanted to have a spontaneous date night and that you’d make dinner and dessert.

So of course, he had shown up looking like a dream in black jeans and a fitted black t-shirt that left his tattoos on display. When he hugged you in greeting, you found it difficult to let him go, wanting to melt into the soft, subtle scent of his cologne.

“Need help, baby?” Jungkook says from behind you, wrapping his arms around you and kissing your cheek.

“Nah, we can eat,” you murmur, tilting your neck subconsciously. He gets the message and drops a series of barely there kisses to the side of your neck.

Jungkook sits in the dining chair with his thick thighs spread and straining against his jeans, beckoning you into his lap. “Pretty,” he breathes, squeezing your tits before his hand drifts downwards to your hip, “Dressed up for me?”

“Barely,” you scoff, but lean into his touch when he cups your face. Mirth dances in his eyes, a slow smile spreading across his face.

“Gimme a kiss, baby,” Jungkook says, already leaning in to meet you halfway.

“Maybe later. I’m kinda hungry,” you reply, playfully shoving his shoulder.

“Same, I’m kinda hungry. Wanna eat you,” he says without missing a beat. You’re used to his antics though so you ignore him easily. You reach over the table for the unopened bottle of wine and pour two glasses out. You shift a bit, angling yourself so that you can see his face properly and you balance yourself with a hand on his chest.

“Cheers, Kook,” you say as you hand over the glass of wine to him, something very familiar glinting in your eyes.

It’s when Jungkook is slotted between your thighs on your velvet, green couch and your legs are loose around his waist that the intention of this “date night” floats into your love-addled brain. He’s so good with his tongue, his lips pressed up against yours as his clothed hips rock into yours slowly.

He steals your words from your throat, but you need to tell him. You feel as if you’re going to combust, your belly searing and your heart only seconds away from exploding into little pieces of red and pink confetti.

“Jungkook,” you say, but it comes out more breathlessly than anything else. You push his hair out of his forehead to try to get him to look at you. He hums, pulling his lips off of your skin and resting his weight on top of you. You hardly feel his hand slip up your top to rest on top of your tits to coax you to say what you need to say.

Comfort. Safety.

“Yes, baby?”

You pause, gathering your thoughts. Can he feel your heart thundering right below his fingertips, threatening to burst right in your ribcage? Can he feel that he holds your ribs together in place with delicate webs of his touch?

“I want to get matching nipple piercings with you,” you blurt out and nearly groan out loud when both of his eyebrows shoot up to his hairline.

“O-okay, but-”

“I want a green kitchen. With a dark green backsplash, maybe. Lots of plants and sunlight. I want a house with a big yard, just in case. You know if we ever have those five kids you want. Not that I’m ever having five kids, but you know. I would like to have the option. Also an art room for you.” you take a deep breath and meet his perplexed, wide eyes.

It takes him a minute to understand.

“What a funny way to suggest living together,” Jungkook teases, nudging your nose with his.

“I’m serious,” you whine, swatting his chest, “I want it. I want you. I want you all the time. Do you want to live together? You think we’re ready for that?”

“Fuck yeah, baby,” Jungkook grins roguishly, “I mean, I think we’d need to talk about money and the logistics. But I want that. I want that bad, baby.”

“Really? Don’t just say yes because I’m asking,” you breathe, unable to stop your smile from spreading, “We should talk about it seriously. What it would look like. What sharing everything would look like. I mean do we keep our finances separate? What if we break up and we have joint bank accounts-”

Jungkook presses his lips to yours to stop your train of thought. “I told you, baby,” he says hoarsely, “You’re my only.”

“But-”

“Anything can happen, you’re right,” Jungkook agrees, “We’ll keep our money and assets separate for now. Not that I have many assets. But just in case.”

“This isn’t a snap decision, we have to talk about it more-”

“I’m gonna build you a house one day,” he bites your bottom lip, “With your green kitchen,” he kisses your nose, “With a big ass yard for our five kids-”

“And an art room for you,” hou add as an afterthought, “Hey, three kids. Not five.”

“Uh huh,” Jungkook says, “I’m gonna build you a house one day, baby.”

“Us,” hou murmur, squeezing his waist, “You’re gonna build us a house one day, bunny.”

Sign of the Times

It takes time. In fact, it has been exactly thirty-three months since Jungkook moved into your condo. Thirty-three months for you both to save up enough money together to officially buy your first house together.

Nearly three years have flown by. And with each day, your correct view that Jungkook is not only your partner but your best friend is solidified more and more.

In those three years, you’d gotten a very welcomed promotion at work, Jungkook had been promoted to manager of the tattoo parlor, two of his friends had gotten married, Jimin had moved in with Mina… and a plethora of wonderful other things had happened.

Sora had even popped up here and there throughout the years. You’d seen her at a mutual friend’s wedding reception, where you and Jungkook both kept your distance. She had approached you when you were alone for a minute and you entertained her just to be civil. You were in public after all- even if your skin was crawling, you tried your best to remain composed.

Jungkook had been by your side in less than a minute, whisking you away from her. Despite your eagerness to get away from her, you couldn’t help but turn your head as you had walked away to curiously catch a glimpse of her. Only to find her already looking back at you.

Another time, you’d seen her at a coffee shop you had been having breakfast with Mina and Mei at. She looked like she wanted to approach you, but you said nothing and ultimately, neither did she.

It takes another six months to renovate parts of your new home. One of the parts being the kitchen, specifically to bring your vision of a green kitchen to life. He even has a photo of you in a hard hat grinning at your in-progress kitchen renovations with a beaming thumbs up. Jungkook gives you your dark green backsplash, your big sunlit rooms and your plants.

He gives you the world, you remind him when he twirls you around in your bare living room. Boxes surround you both but you pay no mind to the emptiness of the house, only seeing each other.

You see the future in his eyes.

After a nap in your newly built bed, you both sit on the floor while eating takeout and sharing an old bottle of wine. His set of wine glasses are somewhere in the many boxes scattered through the house, so you’ll both drink straight from the bottle.

You adjust the sleeves of your flannel (really, it’s his) and lean your head against his shoulder with a mouthful of noodles. Boxes surround both of you, but really it’s the perfect backdrop.

“Cheers, baby,” Jungkook says, kissing your head, “We did it.”

“Yeah,” You sigh, “We really did.”

“I can see our five babies running around right here. Our girls chasing after their little brother,” Jungkook muses, pointing to the empty area in front of you. You can vividly see it too- babies with his eyes and his smile running after each other.

“I’m not popping out five humans. This is not news to you, bunny,” You roll your eyes but thread your fingers through his, “I thought you didnt care about the sex of our future babies.”

“I don’t. I just want all five of them to feel happy and loved and healthy.”

“We’d be good parents, wouldn't we?” you murmur, the image of bright eyed babies blossoming behind your eyelids.

“I’d get rid of the bike,” Jungkook muses, squeezing your shoulder.

“You don't need to do that,” you gasp, “ You love that thing.”

Jungkook hums and places his plate next to him, pulling you into his lap as he stretches his legs. “You wanna do this thing? Be parents?”

“Maybe not right away. In a bit. We have time, don’t we?” you say, kissing the corner of his mouth. Jungkook nods and bites his bottom lip when you settle further on his lap, grinding your hips into his. You capture his lips with yours, easing your hands onto his chest.

You do this often and by now, Jungkook is used to it. He’s used to your nimble fingers trailing over every ridge and spill of ink on his golden brown skin. His back arches reflexively once you swirl a warm finger around his pierced nipple, his lips parted in pleasure as he watches you.

You push the hem of Jungkook’s shirt further up and over his head. His hair is kept short these days, but he still likes to oscillate between different lengths and colors (when his scalp can handle it). Right now, his hair is inky black and his fringe falls over his forehead effortlessly. You brush your lips over his eyebrow piercing gently before dropping wet kisses to the thick column of his neck.

He’s not surprised when your teeth brush against the tender skin of his jugular vein, right near the small tattoo there. Jungkook tilts his head back for you and feels your smile tickle against the column of his throat.

Your fingers circle his sensitive nipples, just barely brushing over the piercing. Your lips are wet and sloppy down his chest, faint hints of your lip gloss staining his tanned skin.

You lick a stripe on the ridges of his taut abs, reveling in the not so quiet sigh that floats into the spaces between. Kissing him here is your favorite thing to do- feeling the flex of his muscles between your lips, underneath your fingertips as his heart races.

There’s nothing more satisfying than pulling him apart with nothing but your tongue and your lips, as you kiss your way down the line of hair at his navel.

His eyes are closed, soft exhales pushing past his cherried, reddened lips- sweet music to your ears.

Jungkook has always been attentive, even when you both were merely acquaintances. At this point, that feels like forever ago, but you still think about those times fondly.

Jungkook is the best lover you’ve ever had, the best lover that you’ll ever have. He’s almost always on the same wavelength as you, always able to interpret the signs of your body even better than you can. The way he’s able to translate each quiver and shake of your legs, each squeeze of his bicep with your smaller hands...

Ever since the move, Jungkook had been unable to get enough of you. Something about building something from the ground up together has had him riled up for months now, and he takes every opportunity to relish in your togetherness.

There have been many occasions that you’ve been very nearly late to work because he’s decided he needs to eat you out in the shower.

And when you had first moved in, before there was any furniture even in the house and the echoes of your moans would bounce off of the freshly painted walls- he was absolutely insatiable. But to your credit, so were you. It only took a slight brush of your fingers over his shoulder for him to yank you towards him by your hips. And inevitably land on the floor in a mess of limbs and tongues-

Jungkook presses into you roughly, hands squeezing your hips as if he cannot get close enough to you despite the fact that only inches separate you both. You’re certain you might break his necklace if you tug it any harder, but you can’t help it. You just want him close, too.

Your eyes immediately zero in on his nipple piercing, and his eyes zero in on yours. He rubs your nipple, just over the metal bar, squeezing your tit harshly just the way you like as he rocks into you.

You wish you could stay like this forever- Jungkook’s thick, veiny cock drilling into your warmth while you’re both on the floor of your new home.

Your tits bounce with every roll of his hips and he brackets your head with his thick tattooed forearm, pressing impatient kisses to your lips. You part your legs further and wrap them around his narrow waist but he pulls away abruptly, manhandling your legs over his shoulders to get a deeper thrust.

It has you seeing stars, nearly blacking out.

“Jungkook,” you groan, “Fuck, you feel s-so-”

Jungkook doesn’t let you finish your sentence with a particularly hard thrust into you. You can feel his cock throbbing in time with your pussy fluttering away. You reach for him, nails skirting over his abs in an attempt to have him closer.

You both have talked about it in theory. About getting rid of condoms once more, now that you both have discussed kids and starting a family together.

But every time you come close, you get nervous and ask him to put a condom on. But lately, you’ve been feeling more and more ready for the possibility.

You know Jungkook is already there, ready to jump into this. He’s just waiting for you to get there, too (though he knows you will).

“No condom,” you sputter out finally, “Baby, take it off.”

Jungkook stops his movement immediately, eyes wide and swimming with happiness and surprise. “Really?” he asks, “Are you positive?”

“Y-yes,” you nod, “I’m ready. Whatever happens, I’m ready. I want to bring a baby into this world with you.”

“Fuck. Me too, angel,” Jungkook pants, “Want that so bad. I love you so fucking much.”

He peels the condom off and tosses it to the side to pick up for later and sheathes himself in you once more. He hasn’t felt you bare like this in such a long time, and he shudders with a loud moan, hiding his face in the column of your neck to bite your neck gently.

“Baby,” he pleads, though he doesn’t know what he’s begging for other than for your sweet release, “Feels so good.”

“Put a baby in me, bunny,” you say breathlessly. Jungkook groans with wide eyes.

“You’re serious? You want me to put a baby in you?” he asks, “I’ll do whatever you want, baby.”

“Yes, fuck yes,” you nod vigorously, clenching around his cock. Jungkook nods, planting a deep kiss to your swollen lips as your fingers dig crescents into the defined muscles of his broad back.

So it really shouldn’t be such a surprise, considering how often the two of you are all over each other. Considering how often Jungkook stuffs you full of his cum, considering how he tries his best to keep his cum inside of you...

It should really be no surprise that you’re suddenly tired and a little nauseous all the time, that your breasts are tender.

Most of all, it should be no surprise that your period is late. Two pregnancy tests sit on your bathroom counter, staring both you in the face. You had picked up the pregnancy tests during your lunch break, since you were working from home today. But… Do you have the patience to wait for Jungkook to come home?

Tick tock. Tick tock.

Normally, you would. If it was anything else, you’d wait for Jungkook. You’re quickly taken back to the memory of your pregnancy scare with him, a little over four years ago at this point. How scared you were to take the test alone in your bathroom, with tears in your eyes and trembling hands.

But now, you’re scared of disappointment. You’re scared to face it alone. To face the possibility of hope crashing down on you once again.

You bite the bullet, plucking up ten seconds of courage and sit on the toilet and wait.

By the time Jungkook returns from his longest day yet at the tattoo parlor, all he wants to do is kick his shoes off and bury himself in your chest. Maybe you’ll even give him a head rub after he makes you both a bowl of soup to calm the fatigue settled in his limbs.

He’s itching to be close to you and when he finally, finally arrives home after what seems to be the longest ride of his entire life, it’s quiet in the house.

The living room light is on, but you’re nowhere to be found. Your house slippers are gone as well, meaning you must be upstairs.

“Baby? Where are you?” Jungkook calls, slipping out of his coat and hanging it up in the closet.

“Huh? Oh, I’m in the bedroom, honey,” you reply. How strange- if you’re home before him, you almost always greet him with a hug and a kiss to say hello.

Jungkook follows your voice, not picking up on the undercurrent of something in your tone. He finds you applying a serum to your face in the bathroom in your dark green, silk robe. He’s very familiar with this robe- it’s the special robe. The robe is reserved for special occasions, when you want some extra pampering.

“You’re home,” you exhale after patting your face gently, “How was your day, bunny?”

“Long,” Jungkook sighs, pulling you into his arms and pressing his face to your neck.

“Oh, that’s alright. You’re off tomorrow,” you say soothingly, “Want some soup? I put some in the pot, it should be done by now.”

“Fuck yeah, let me shower and I’ll come down,” Jungkook says, but pulls you in for a quick kiss to your lips.

You’re sure to bring the pregnancy tests with you as you scamper down the stairs, on a mission.

Jungkook comes down smelling like his favorite sandalwood scented body wash, wrapping you up in a hug as you pour out soup for both of you.

“How are you feeling today? Feeling off still? Was it that food that Jimin made the other day? It was irritating my stomach, be honest-”

“No, I’m good for now,” you promise, “Go sit down, I’ll bring it.”

You’re cautious with your motions, waiting for him to sink into his chair before arranging the plates. You made his favorite comfort soup, ginseng chicken soup. But you added a little extra this time.

You added an alphabet soup. Specifically, you added some of the letters of the alphabet onto the wide plate that sits beneath his bowl of soup.

The pregnancy tests sit so heavy in the pockets of your robe.

“Where’s yours, baby?” Jungkook asks when you bring the plate and bowl over to him, craning his neck over to see your bowl at the counter.

“I only have two hands,” you snort, “You eat first.”

Your heart is about to explode out of your chest in nervousness, but you try to remain calm. You watch him through the periphery of your vision from the kitchen, pretending to busy yourself with pouring out a glass of water for you both.

You hear his gasp. You can see his face vividly in your mind’s eye.

“What’s this?” Jungkook finally whispers. You meet his impossibly wide eyes, sparkling and shimmering wetly.

You had written out the word ‘daddy’ with the pieces of the newly opened alphabet soup and placed it on the plate for him to see.

“Is this you telling me you’re suddenly into a daddy kink, or is this something else,” Jungkook says, his chuckle watery.

“It’s something else,” you say softly, unable to raise your voice any louder. Your throat is dry already as you pull the positive pregnancy tests from your pockets and hold them in your hands.

He’s immediately in front of you, on his knees, taking the tests to see for himself. “You’re pregnant,” he exhales, unable to stop the smile from spreading on his face.

“Y-yeah, I mean we still have to go to the doctor-”

“Baby,” Jungkook sobs, standing on his feet and hugging you, kissing your hair and your forehead and your lips. He holds you in his arms tightly, burying his face in your neck. Tears leak out of your own eyes as you laugh happily when he spins you around.

“Really?” Jungkook says, pulling away, “Fuck, I love you. I love you so much, angel.”

“Really, really,” you cry, pressing your face into his shoulder, “I’m so happy, baby. I love you, I love you, I love you-”

He carries you to the table to finish off the remainder of soup, but really he’s giddy and looking at you as if you’ve hung the moon and stars. To which you quickly remind him-

“You did the work, Jungkook. It was your cum, baby.”

He pinches your thigh and tells you that you both can make a doctor’s appointment first thing in the morning.

***************

Dinner at your parents’ house this evening was supposed to be casual- your parents had just built a new dining table from scratch (they had recently taken up woodwork as a hobby) and wanted to show you and Jungkook the fruits of your labor.

But your mother has been looking at you in a way- the same way she looked at you when you were a teenager and you were quietly rebelling in your own way.

You avoid her sharp gaze and busy yourself with bringing plates out for everyone.

“White wine or red wine?” She asks lightly, eyes blazing. It’s in that moment that you know that she knows.

Suddenly you feel like a teenager again under the scrutiny of your mother, despite being a grown woman.

“We’re both trying to avoid alcohol, it makes us both feel awful these days,” Jungkook says for you. Your shoulders relax slightly and you take his hand in yours.

And subconsciously rub your nonexistent baby bump. It’s been six weeks since you had first taken the pregnancy test, six weeks of ultrasounds, two doctor’s visits and bottles and bottles of prenatal vitamins in the medicine cabinet.

Courtesy of Jungkook. So far, your pregnancy has been full of the symptoms to be expected, and everyday feels like something new.

Your parents are absolutely not convinced by the lie. But they say nothing.

The tension breaks as you both eat, though it only takes ten minutes for a brief wash of nausea to settle in on your belly. You try to mask your grimace but immediately excuse yourself to head to the bathroom and dry heave in the toilet.

This is one of the worst parts. Maybe it was a bad idea to come tonight- you know your mother can put two and two together. And you really don’t want to hear what your parents have to say about you and Jungkook having a baby out of wedlock.

They’ve been on you about getting married for the last few years, especially ever since you and Jungkook moved in together and bought a house. They never really understood the concept of a couple moving into a home together before the commitment of marriage. Let alone deciding to have a baby without being married.

But truthfully, if there is anything about you that has stayed the same, it’s your stance on marriage. You’ve never felt like marriage was the gateway to other things in life- that you needed to get married or engaged before moving in together with a partner, sharing and splitting assets or having children.

You never particularly liked the implications, the pressure and everything that came along with it either. Being the eldest daughter in your family, you’ve felt that pressure ever since you were young. And you never cared for it.

It’s what makes the idea that you and Jungkook were meant to be so irrefutable to you- he has a similar stance on marriage, too. Though, the only person you’d really ever consider it for was him. But neither of you are in a rush. You’re enjoying the few weeks of your pregnancy, you’re enjoying the foundation you’ve created with him.

What an absolute scandal. You roll your eyes, retching into the toilet as quietly as you can. Every conversation you’ve had with them about this has resulted in a fight and in tears. You were planning on telling both of your families in a few weeks, when you reached twelve or thirteen months of pregnancy.

But you’re afraid and you hate it.

“Maybe we should leave, huh, blueberry?” you muse and rub your belly once more, standing up on wobbly legs and stare at yourself in the mirror for a minute to touch up your makeup. You don’t think you look very different. Though Jungkook has told you that your hips have become fuller and your tits a little bigger.

You can almost sense his presence from behind the bathroom door. And when you swing it open, you see his worried eyes.

“I’m fine,” you whisper, “The smells are throwing me off a little.”

“Let’s go home, baby-”

“No, I’m really hungry,” you say, leaning into Jungkook’s touch when his hand hovers over your belly.

“Are you sure?” Jungkook asks, “We can leave-” He never wants you to be in a situation where you’re uncomfortable, especially if it’s inside your own parents’ home.

You nod, giving him a smile and a kiss to the cheek. You lead him back to the dinner table, where your mother watches you like a hawk. Irritation begins to seep into your pores and you force yourself to dig your fingernails into your thighs to quell the sudden rise of blinding emotion.

“Everything alright?” your dad asks with a raised eyebrow.

“Yeah, dad. Just had to pee,” you shrug and he leaves it at that. The rest of dinner goes smoothly (you’re successful in pushing your nausea to the side for the most part and finishing off your plate). You talk about your siblings, asking when they’ll be coming to visit. Your mom asks Jungkook about the tattoo parlor, asking him how it’s been being the head tattoo artist at Jin’s second branch of the parlor now. Soobin, Yeji, Seoyeon and Hyunjin are all working under Jungkook currently.

Eventually, you migrate to the living room, where Jungkook keeps a hand on your lower back and watches you carefully for any signs of discomfort.

Your mother gets through all of ten minutes of whatever drivel is blaring on the television. Clearly, she’s on a mission and has her suspicions already.

“You sure you don’t want any wine? We have your favorite. Both of your favorites,” she says, swirling her glass in front of you with a quirked eyebrow.

You’ve always been able to get away with your white lies with your parents. When you were a teenager, lying about working on a project with a friend when in reality you had been at a soccer game with your friend and her boyfriend. When you were in college, telling her not to visit for consecutive weekends because you had so many exams and assignments (which you did) when in reality you were studying and trotting off to parties and bars and clubs with your fake ID and skimpy outfits.

Truthfully, you just wanted to be away from her overtly watchful eye. The older you got, the more you could kind of understand why she watched you like a hawk. Barely allowed you to speak to boys growing up, stay with friends. She had been scared back then.

But you’re not a child anymore. She believed you all of those times. You wonder if she’ll believe you this time.

“I’m good, Ma,” you wave her off, a wave of nausea striking your belly gently. You subtly squeeze Jungkook’s hand.

“I’m good, too,” Jungkook says. He wraps an arm around your shoulder and tugs you into his side, absently rubbing your arm.

“How about dessert? I have bundt cake and cookies-”

You don’t even let your mother finish her sentence before dashing off of the couch and into the bathroom with a speed you didn’t even know you possessed.

Well, you think dryly as you heave over the toilet bowl, if your parents didn’t think you were pregnant before. They certainly did now.

Jungkook is by your side in seconds, as you didn’t have time to lock the bathroom door behind you. He rubs your back soothingly, whispering reassurances to you. Tears leak from your eyes unwittingly, as they always do when you’re throwing up like this. The randomest scents and mentions of food have been setting you off for the last two weeks.

You can only hope it gets better.

“We’re going home,” Jungkook says, kissing your hair, “You need to rest. This is the second time today-”

“I know. Maybe we shouldn’t have come,” you admit. Jungkook helps you to your feet as you rinse your mouth out. “Fuck.”

Your parents are standing in front of you both, looking at you expectantly, with a mixture of emotions painted across their faces. You remind yourself- you are your own person. You and Jungkook are your own people, away from the watchful eyes of your parents.

“Everything is not okay,” your mother says, “You’re pregnant, aren’t you?”

“I’m not answering that, it’s bad luck,” you reply immediately. That’s answer enough and both of your parents gasp, shock painted across their faces.

“You-you’re not married,” she scolds. You wrap an arm around Jungkook’s forearm subtly. “First, you both move in together. Then buy a house. And now this-”

“This is something we both want,” Jungkook says calmly. He keeps his voice even to soothe your racing heart. To not send you into a state of panic.

“We told you we wanted you married even before all of that,” your dad chimes in, “And now you’ve gone and gotten knocked up. You knocked her up-”

“Do you not respect your parents' wishes? Where did we go wrong? What will people say about us, about you-”

“Neither of us care what people will say. This is what’s right for us, and it wasn’t a snap decision,” Jungkook says, his jaw clicking.

A slight lie. But your parents don’t need to know that.

“We’re leaving,” You say abruptly, keeping your frustrated tears at bay, “We don’t need this. I don’t need this. We’re healthy. And we’re happy. You’re welcome to join in on that, but it’s clear where your priorities have always lied.”

Maybe it’s a little dramatic, but you think it’s deserved.

It takes you five minutes to gather your things, and then another three minutes for Jungkook to join you in the car. He had at least bid your parents a stony goodbye, but you couldn’t stand it.

You barely shed a tear, barely even acknowledge it. You munch on the chocolate raspberry protein bars that Jungkook keeps tucked in the glove compartment (specifically set there for you) with a hand absently rubbing your belly.

It’s much later, when you and Jungkook are eating a second dinner and your feet are in his lap that you allow it to bubble up to the surface.

“I don’t want to be stressed about this, not when these first few weeks are so critical,” you mumble, “But…”

“I-“

“Is it bad that I don’t really… care,” You shrug, “What they think or not.”

“You sure you don’t care, or are you deflecting?” Jungkook raises an eyebrow, squeezing your foot.

“Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t like their reaction. But at this point, if their reasoning for making major life decisions together is ‘what will people think’, then I don’t want to hear it,” You say, “We shouldn’t have to constantly be hearing that.”

“Yeah, we shouldn’t. But they’re your parents, I’m sure they’ll come around,” Jungkook reasons. Your parents treat Jungkook fine and well, but the difference in how his family treats you compared to how your parents treat him is obvious. Your parents do like Jungkook. They just can’t seem to get over the fact that neither of you have a desire for marriage.

“I sure hope so. But if they don’t… it’s okay,” You shrug. Jungkook looks like he wants to say more, but you’re already changing the subject to show him your shared, curated Pinterest board of the nursery you both want to create together. So far, it’s hues of yellows and greens and photos of mobiles and stuffed toys (a smiling sun and an array of smiling stars and planets make the cut).

“Okay,” Jungkook echoes, “Okay.”

***************

Hiding this pregnancy from your friends has been the most challenging, especially in the last few weeks. You wanted to tell them so badly, but you don’t want to jump ahead of yourself. They start to not question when you and Jungkook skip dinners and hangouts more often than not (with valid reason- you’ve been feeling severely nauseous and experiencing more body and stomach aches and cravings the longer your little blueberry has been growing inside you).

Somehow, you make it to twelve weeks and Jungkook is dizzy with excitement to tell all of your friends and family. Well, it’s mostly his family and your siblings- you still haven’t reached good terms with your parents. And true to your word, you had not attempted to reach out to your parents, despite Jungkook casually mentioning it every so often.

He is wary of how you brush over this. But you wear your heart on your sleeve (especially now, with how much you were adjusting to your fluctuating hormones). He knows that they hurt you and he knows how deep rooted this goes. He understands your desire to not want to speak to them.

As you had stated before- all you want now is happiness and love around your little family. You want the blueberry in your belly to come into this world with love surrounding it, and you won’t stop anything from getting in the way of that.

Even if that means that your parents take a backseat.

In fact, the last time Jungkook had suggested you reach out to them (because they were your parents and they would get over it. After all they were right- he had knocked you up), you had snapped at him in a way he hasn’t been on the receiving end of in a long time. If ever.

And then you had cried, blubbering apologies, not even twenty minutes later for the way you had talked to him. So he continues to approach the subject tenderly.

On the tenth week of your pregnancy, you and Jungkook start to plan a backyard barbeque to announce to his family and siblings that you were pregnant. It’ll be the middle of June by your thirteenth week, a perfect evening for a backyard party.

When the day comes, it takes almost everything out of you to keep your excited jitters at bay and pretend like nothing is out of the ordinary. To pretend like you’re not twelve, almost thirteen weeks pregnant with ultrasound pictures hidden in the first drawer of your nightstand.

Jungkook’s parents, Jooyeon and your siblings are all settled at the table with plates of snacks and cups of filled drinks in front of them.

Oh, and Namjoon. Namjoon, who had hit it off with Jooyeon the moment that Jungkook had introduced them a little over a year ago. Namjoon, who loves Jooyeon with open, welcoming arms as she very much deserves. She’s healthy and happy, far happier than Jungkook had ever seen her with Byung-woo.

His name hasn’t been uttered in a long time. His parents love Namjoon as well and are relieved that Byung-woo is out of the picture for good.

Jooyeon gives you a suspicious look when you decline her offer of soju or a cocktail. You claim that you’ve recently cut alcohol out of your diet because you hate how bloated it makes you feel.

She knows you better than that but says nothing, only narrowing her eyes at you in curiosity. She lets it go for now.

You ignore her inquisitive eyes on your back and you do your best to ignore her and Namjoon whispering with each other in front of the grill. Jungkook’s mother and your sister are both deep in conversation, and you don’t miss the way they look over at you strangely.

This was going to be a long evening, you think. At least Jungkook is by your side for it.

***************

Namjoon knows something is up when Jungkook doesn’t take a sip of wine the entire evening, despite his insistence. Jungkook had stopped drinking for the most part in the last few weeks, wanting to do this together with you. Even with your protests, he had rebuffed you.

“Is everything okay, you’re acting weird,” Namjoon says bluntly when he pulls Jungkook to the side, “Haven’t seen you have a drink or anything all evening…”

Jungkook has never been a good liar, but he tries his best. “Oh, you know, I’ve had this annoying headache all day. Alcohol will just make it worse.”

“Uh huh,” Namjoon says with a raised eyebrow. He doesn’t sound like he believes Jungkook, but he doesn’t question it.

“C’mon, let’s bring the food to the table. Everyone’s hungry and they’ll all have my head,” Jungkook says, turning his back to Namjoon and ignoring the heat in his face.

You’d laugh at him if you saw him.

Jungkook immediately sits next to you at the newly painted table in your cozy backyard (you both had painted it a pretty olive green) and squeezes your hand. He leaves his hand at your thigh, his fingers brushing against your belly every so often.

You pour everyone a glass of raspberry lemonade and smile unassumingly at them before settling back next to Jungkook.

You wait for the thundering in your ears to cease for a moment, wait for everyone to eat their meals. Your dad, Jungkook’s dad and your brother are praising Jungkook’s grilling skills as he eats and he touches his ears shyly at the praise.

Is there ever a such thing as a perfect moment? You decide to take the plunge, holding Jungkook’s index finger tightly. The weight of the ultrasound photos are heavy in the pockets of your flowy, purple dress, and you feel a little lightheaded.

You also have mild heartburn, but you try not to focus on that.

“We have to tell you all something,” You blurt out, Jungkook looking at you with wide eyes as if to ask if you’re sure. You nod, and Jungkook kisses your temple before dashing inside to bring a cake out.

A chocolate cake that you had done your best to bake despite the scent of the sweetness giving you nausea. You drew a little green flower on it with icing and wrote the words ‘baby l/n-jeon, december’ on it.

You stand up and head to the corner of your yard, where you’ve hidden several bags for your guests. Your eyes begin to water already, the overwhelming emotion beginning to choke you from inside. But it’s all happiness, happiness that you finally can share this moment with your loved ones.

Well. Most of them.

You smile broadly at them, taking in their inquisitive eyes. But your brother and sister look at you knowingly, with small smiles on their face that only broaden when you hold your hand on your belly.

“We have something for each of you,” you murmur, giving each of their bags to them. They’re small gifts, just onesies with ‘grandpa’s favorite’, ‘grandma’s favorite’ printed on them, or mugs with ‘favorite aunt’ or ‘favorite uncle’ printed on them.

By now, Jungkook has returned and holds the cake close, waiting for them to process the news. Your sister and brother look up at you in shock, and when Jungkook places the cake in the middle, they gasp and his mother has a hand to her chest.

“I knew it!” Jooyeon shrieks, “I fucking knew it!”

His mother is already sobbing into her hands and wraps her arms around you tightly. “My sweethearts,” she says through teary eyes, “I knew it, too, you know. You’ve been looking so radiant lately, dear.”

You start to cry, too. She pulls Jungkook in for a hug, and then his dad joins you all for a group hug. His family has always been so affectionate with each other and with you in a way that you didn’t know of before Jungkook. But by now it doesn’t even phase you.

You know your parents are going to be a little upset. The truth is- you had invited them to this barbeque. You would have felt incredibly shitty if you hadn’t, but your invite did not garner a response. You did your part. The rest will fall into place.

There is a clear empty space at the table, and your sister looks at you forlornly with a small smile. She understands, she really does. They always wanted you to do things the traditional way- get married and then have children. Especially as the oldest child. But despite how many times you’ve told them that neither you nor Jungkook are concerned with the notion and implications of marriage right now, that you both want to bring a life into the world together first… Each discussion of this always ended in a fight with them. So after a while, you had just stopped bringing it up with them.

You were hesitant to tell your parents for this reason, and Jungkook knew this. You wanted to celebrate this with them, but if they looked at your pregnancy as something shameful just because you and Jungkook were not married… Well. There’s not much you can do there.

Jooyeon shrieks along with your brother and sister, the three of them shrieking together, tears dotting their eyes before they give you tight hugs after your parents. Namjoon claps Jungkook’s shoulder with a broad smile and he flushes when Namjoon tells him that he knew something was up.

“We haven’t told anyone else yet,” Jungkook says, “That’ll be in a few weeks.”

“I’ll keep my lips sealed then.”

“You better. You’re fucking terrible with secrets,” Jungkook teases, punching Namjoon’s shoulder.

“Hey!”

The rest of the evening goes in a joyful haze, both sets of parents gushing to each other over you and your belly. Jungkook can sense you’re starting to feel exhausted, so he recruits your siblings to help usher everyone out.

Jungkook’s parents make you both promise to call if either of you ever need help with anything. You already know Auntie- she’ll be calling you the next day for a rundown on what your doctor has told you.

Right now, you just want to eat more food and cake while Jungkook gives you a foot massage. The heartburn will be dealt with later.

Jooyeon and your siblings help you and Jungkook clean up. But your feet and your back are absolutely aching, so you tell Jungkook you’re going to sit for a bit. He brings you a glass of lemonade and kisses your forehead, promising you a foot rub later. Your baby bump is hardly starting to show, but you still hold your belly fondly. Finally, you allow yourself to relax.

“Those were your grandparents. They’re a little funny, a little intense sometimes, but they’re gonna spoil you,” you murmur softly, “You’re gonna be so loved when we meet you. I can’t wait, my baby plum.

“Daddy’s gonna give me a foot rub later, I also can’t wait for that,” You chuckle to yourself, “I know your grandparents are upset with us because Daddy knocked me up. I hope they can meet you soon but… I don’t know. I wouldn’t have it any other way, you know?”

It’s been comforting, the last few weeks, knowing that there was a presence inside of you. This tiny ball of cells was your comfort armor, reminding you and Jungkook that your love created this. That you were absolutely meant for this.

You and Jungkook are so beyond excited for this pregnancy, and you intend to enjoy every minute of it that you can.

Jungkook comes to get you (not before pressing a quick kiss to your lips) when your siblings all decide to leave (and take some leftovers). Your sister hugs you close, getting teary eyed once more. Which inevitably makes you teary eyed as well.

“I’m so happy for you both,” Jooyeon says, hugging her brother, “You know we’re not that far if you both need anything at all.”

“So should I call you and Joon when I get morning sickness tomorrow,” you joke and she grins, pulling you into a hug. Your brother is deep in conversation with Jungkook and he daps him up before a quick hug.

“I knew you were pregnant by the way,” your sister adds on, “You hardly ever miss an opportunity for a drink. And when you came over a few weeks ago, you were being so suspicious…”

“Jungkook too,” your brother adds, “Said something about being on a diet.”

“Oh? Today, he said he had a headache,” Namjoon says, “What a liar.”

“Excuse me for not realizing that you guys had more than one brain cell,” Jungkook scoffs. You yawn and give them all one last hug before they all head out of the door and into their cars. You and Jungkook wave at them as they drive away.

You sigh in contentment and close the door behind you, looking at the man standing in front of you. You hadn’t properly appreciated how handsome he looked today, his fitted shirt floating around his narrow waist and his eyes wide and swirling with only you in the center of them.

Sometimes, you can’t believe that he is unequivocally yours. Your love story has spanned years, nearly a full decade, and now.

Now.

Your eyes pool with tears once more, your throat easily going dry. He has shown you what love is, what friendship is. What trust, connection and understanding means. Jungkook is your best friend, your partner, and now…

“Jungkook,” you sniffle, voice coming out a little watery and thick, “I’m so happy you’re my baby daddy. I love you so much-”

You start to sob once more into your hands, overwhelmed by your consistent love for him. Even though he stands right in front of you, you cry. He immediately gathers you in his arms (already used to your bursts of tears these days. He is an angel, despite what he says when you tell him this.) Jungkook rubs your back carefully, kissing your hair and murmuring soft words into your ear.

“I love you, my beautiful baby mama,” Jungkook says, pulling a laugh from you, “And my baby plum.” The warmth of his hand against your belly is an added soothing comfort, easing your tears away.

“I’m so happy and excited for us,” you mumble and Jungkook hums, swaying with you on your feet.

“Let me take a picture of you and then I’ll give you a foot rub,” Jungkook says. He’s always loved photography and videography, and when you were the subject of his lens, it was no exception. He’s creating a photo album of your days in your first pregnancy to document for you both (as well as to share with the baby when they’re older.)

“Bunny, you’re going to be such a good daddy,” you say, feeling your eyes beginning to well up again. He doesn’t tell you not to cry, instead, he pulls you into his lap on the couch and holds you close. “You have such a good heart,” You murmur, your hand resting on his pec. Right above his nipple piercing.

The tips of his ears and the apples of his cheeks are tinted red. Truthfully, seeing and hearing you like this gives him whiplash sometimes. He’s never known you to cry this often, but he that’s what pregnancy is- the shift in hormones is definitely impacting you. And it’s impacting him as well.

Jungkook’s hand travels to your chest, thumb brushing along your own matching nipple piercing. He smiles when the memory of you both in the tattoo parlor resurfaces, when Mina had pierced you both. He knows you will have to take the metal bar out some day soon, so he’ll revel in it until then.

“My tits are sore,” you admit, “Can we go to bed?”

Jungkook’s already up, carrying you bridal style with your arms around his neck easily. You peck the side of his neck, tracing the tattoo there with a gentle finger. He sits you on the bed, bringing you a change of clothes before rushing downstairs to check the locks on the door and bring water upstairs for you both.

“Thank you, bunny,” you murmur, already changed into his boxers and a thin shirt of yours.

Jungkook lays next to you, pulling you into his arms and kissing your shoulder softly as he rubs your arm. “You alright?” He murmurs into your hair.

“Yeah, mostly,” you reply, “Wish my parents came. Are you alright?”

“I wish they came, too, baby,” he says, “They’ll come around. I know it.”

“Maybe. But until then, I’m happy. Are you happy?”

“Fuck yes,” Jungkook whispers into your mouth, “I’m so fucking happy.”

***************

Cravings increase during your second trimester and Jungkook often finds you in the kitchen slapping together the oddest of combinations to satisfy your sweet tooth. Your hair is shiny, skin glowing and your breasts have swollen up in size. Stretch marks litter your ass and your thighs and Jungkook is all too happy to massage oil onto your skin. Your morning sickness and your incessant need to pee has disappeared, and now all you’re really left with are occasional cramps and dizziness.

You’re still quite emotional, ready to cry at the drop of a hat- over watching Jungkook put the new crib together, watching him in the home improvement store as you both decide what color to paint the walls and the crib. Even catching a glimpse at the few parenting books on the nightstand and in his art room sends you into a blitz of tears.

There’s been many times that Jungkook and you have cried together over the beauty blooming in your belly.

This month, you’ve finally convinced Jungkook to take you for a spin on his motorcycle- it’s been so long since you’ve felt the wind against your skin. Jungkook has been reluctant, immediately thinking of the worst case scenario if he were to take you. But you convince him anyways, telling him that it’ll be the baby loaf’s first ride.

Jungkook takes you on an evening ride through town. Your steady heartbeat is flush against his back, the reminder of your love sitting in between you both.

“Bunny,” you say in his ear once you reach a red light, “Wanna get ice cream? I want chocolate and cherries.”

“Sure, we’re close to our favorite place,” Jungkook replies and you kiss him behind his ear.

He shivers.

He watches you with adoring eyes as you scarf down your ice cream and eye his ice cream up curiously. He offers you a spoonful and you hum in satisfaction, rubbing your belly.

“Loaf likes it.”

“Oh, does loaf like it?”

You nod and give him a blinding smile. The lights of the ice cream shop float over your already shiny hair, lighting up the planes of your pretty face. Jungkook reaches across the table easily, grabbing your hand in his and squeezing. He’s eager to get you home-having you on the motorcycle while pregnant sets him on edge.

You look so relaxed like this, hand loose on your belly. You’re glowing in your pregnancy, ever since you entered the second trimester.

The urge to go home washes over Jungkook again, but more intensely this time. He wants to hold you in his arms, speak to the little loaf in your belly, tell his baby all about the adventures of the day. Visions of seeing you with the baby in your arms, of him holding the baby while singing to them flash behind his eyelids.

He can’t wait to meet them.

You sense his uneasiness quickly, the way his tongue pokes the inside of his cheek and his leg starts to bounce.

“C’mon, honey. Let’s go home,” you suggest, rubbing your thumb over his tattooed knuckle.

Jungkook can’t get up fast enough. He didn’t think he could ever worry this much- he’s already protective of you and he knows he can be too much sometimes. You had so much patience though, even with your emotions still adjusting, you rarely snapped at him when he was becoming too overbearing.

Except once or twice, when he had stopped you from reaching the top shelf for your favorite jar of peanut butter. Claiming that you might fall, that you didn’t need to move a single muscle. You had glared at him, letting him know that you were pregnant. That you could still do most day-to-day things just fine. After all, he had been at every doctor’s appointment and your doctor had verified that claim.

But he still worries. For some reason, he’s been seeing and hearing of more and more stories about car accidents in which pregnant people were involved and it scares the shit out of him.

You have always been a force on your own. Jungkook tries not to be too much, but he can’t help it.

The hum of the motorcycle is softer than it usually is, at least that’s how it sounds. You wrap your arms around his waist tightly and kiss the back of his neck, as you always do when you ride with him.

The drive feels impossibly long as he twists and turns as slowly as he can to get home. You embrace it, sighing happily as the late summer breeze tickles your skin. You can catch the scents of warmth, almost salty air and grass the closer you get to home.

Home is a lot of things these days- it’s Jungkook in your heart, and your baby loaf with both of you.

But tonight… home is Jungkook hugging you close to him in your bed as his cock glides slowly inside of you, almost burning deliciously with each stretch. His hands are loose around your tits, mouth pressed against your shoulder. Your fingers intertwine with his over your chest, a content exhale spilling from your lips.

He can’t get enough of you- enough of the way your tits spill out of your shirts these days, enough of how meaty your thighs and hips have become recently. Just laying next to you invites a flame into his belly that seems to always exist when it comes to you.

You’re faring no better. Even just catching the glint of his eyebrow piercing in the sun, or watching him bend over to pick something up that you dropped, or him handling all of your mood swings with perfected poise and grace has you absolutely trembling nearly at all hours of the day.

It’s quite tiring. In between being hungry all of the time and dealing with your raging hormones, you have to deal with your sudden appearances of your horniness. You’re both ravenous in more ways than one. How cruel.

Well, when these instances of Jungkook’s weeping cock brush against your throbbing clit occur so often, you never complain.

“You’re so fucking pretty,” Jungkook moans into your hair, “Glowing, beautiful with my baby inside you. I love you so-fucking-much, baby.” He squeezes your left tit and licks your neck, biting down gently. Along with your pregnancy hormones, came your sudden sensitivity.

It only takes a few thrusts as his fingers snake down the patch of hair around your pussy and a few rubs of your clit with his tattooed fingers, a few quiet praises and grunts in your ear for you to cum and soak his cock with your wetness.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, “Fuck-”

He spills inside of you with a broken groan of your name, his hips rolling as he revels in the way you clench around him.

“Jungkook,” your voice flutters into his ears, a soft melody, “I wanna see you.”

Your lips are on his the moment he turns you around, your hands squeezing his thigh as you lift your leg to rest it on top of him. “Okay?” Jungkook murmurs, cupping your face.

“Hell yeah,” You grin, warm and sated.

“Loaf’s okay?”

“Yes, baby,” you reassure him. Jungkook relaxes, burying his head in your neck and kissing the skin of your collarbones. As if his hands are magnetized, he squeezes your tits and watches in awe as they jiggle in his hands.

“Your tits got so fucking big, baby,” Jungkook moans, “Lemme fuck ‘em, pretty girl. Please-”

You nod before he even finishes his sentence- you’re both almost always on the same wavelength.

“Wait. Let me take a picture first, baby,” Jungkook breathes and fumbles around for his phone. This is also a common occurrence with him- he keeps these photos in a specific folder on his phone. It’s only for him (and for you sometimes, when the urge strikes).

Taking photos of you has always been one of Jungkook’s favorite things to do, but the last few months have brought this passion out of him even further. “Put your fingers here,” he directs softly, bringing your fingers to your mouth. Once he gets a few photos of you like that, he gently pushes his thumb past your swollen lips and into your warm, wet mouth.

“Good girl,” Jungkook sighs and the sound is sweet.

***************

When your third trimester rolls around, the number of doctor’s office visits increases. You have backaches almost always, you’re swollen, and you have similar symptoms as you did in the first trimester. You feel so uncomfortable as the days go by.

Your belly is now big enough that you can balance a plate of food on it. Jungkook often does this (as do you as well).

He still doesn’t falter even for a step when he carries you after your feet begin to hurt (which is often these days). You both take your daily walks together, even as it gets chillier outside. You’re on maternity leave now, so most of your days are spent getting ready for the baby, sleeping, eating, or at the tattoo parlor on days where you feel a little more energized.

One thing you’ve definitely picked up on is that when you’re pregnant, people will treat you as if you are made of glass. Or treat you as if you cannot do anything on your own. You miss seeing people- whether it was through work or otherwise- and not having them treat you as if you were a delicate flower (though even Jungkook was guilty of this in the beginning).

Now, your circle consists of the other heavily pregnant couples at the birthing class you and Jungkook decide to enroll in.

With your third trimester comes the baby shower. Your sister and Jooyeon were planning it together with input from Aunty. Meanwhile, your parents haven’t properly spoken to you in months and you try your best to pretend like it’s not bothering you.

You don’t want to talk about the sudden, strained relationship between your parents and you. Though you won’t deny that sometimes it feels all-consuming and you cry to Jungkook about it, who in turn cries with you.

You know your brother and sister have been trying to get them to see reason, but you told them millions of times to stop. It’s not their responsibility to fix it.

But it seems like something had clicked into place for them, because you’re completely startled to see your mother calling you on a random evening while Jungkook was giving you a thigh rub.

You hesitantly answer as your heart races in your chest despite your attempts of keeping calm, and are met with a bombardment of loud sobs and a series of apologies.

“I can’t understand you,” you mumble.

“I’m sorry, we’re both so sorry. It must have been incredibly hard, feeling so unsupported by us-”

“Yeah, but I had Jungkook. And we had his family and our friends,” you reply somewhat harshly, protectively resting a hand on your belly and rubbing it, “By the way, we found out the sex of the baby. And it’s a girl.”

She bursts into another round of tears and you can hear your dad asking what’s going on.

“Hey dad,” you say tiredly, pinching the bridge of your nose, “Long time no talk.”

Jungkook gently gets you to lay down next to him, pulling you into his arms and kissing your shoulder as he rubs your arm soothingly. Frustration eases out of you slowly when you hear out your parents’ sincere, teary apologies.

“You hurt my baby, you hurt Jungkook, you hurt me,” you cry, feeling the dam break. It’s broken many times in front of Jungkook, but finally being able to tell your parents how much they hurt you. “I don’t forgive you, I can’t let it go that easily. It wasn’t fair, you can’t just...”

They’re silent on the other line, letting you vent and yell at them (while trying your best not to raise your voice). You tell them about the baby shower eventually, through sniffles and hiccups-

“I’ll let you know whether you can come,” you say with finality, “I love you, but you hurt me a lot this time. I need time.”

With that, they say alright. Because there’s not much else to say. They say goodnight to you, Jungkook and the baby before hanging up the phone. And then you cry some more, somehow finding space to bury your face in his chest. He only rubs your back, kissing your forehead and your hair. Whispering that you’re okay, that everyone’s okay.

The baby even kicks on cue, pulling a watery laugh from you.

“She agrees,” you sniffle, pulling Jungkook’s hand to your belly to feel the baby kick.

“Of course she does,” Jungkook murmurs.

Eventually, by the time the baby shower rolls around, you find it in your heart to let it go with your parents. It’s weighing down on you too heavily and you don’t want to bring the baby into the world with this bitter grudge. But you remain wary regardless. And of course, Jungkook is on the ready to shut down any kind of rude comment that comes your way.

The baby shower is cute and quaint and it’s held at Jungkook’s parent’s house with your friends and family there. You’re a little nervous to see your parents again, and when they finally do arrive, Jungkook doesn’t leave your side. And you don’t want him to.

They look at you with soft, watery smiles and apologies on the tip of their tongues. Your mother makes a move to touch your belly but Jungkook steps in front of you protectively.

He’s always cautious about anyone touching your belly without your permission. But you smile at him squeezing his fingers before allowing your parents to ask you millions of questions with teary eyes and even more apologies. They ask for everything and anything, any possible detail about the last seven or so months.

Your mother tells you what to expect in the last few weeks, though you’ve already heard it from Aunty and your own doctor. But still, you let her say what she needs to say. She probably feels awful that she chose to not be part of most of your pregnancy.

Jooyeon and your siblings knocked it out of the park with planning the baby shower, only asking Jungkook for several details. They wanted to keep it a surprise for you, and they had done such a great job. The evening ends in food, cake, an impromptu photoshoot of you and Jungkook, and a mountain of gifts in the Jeons’ living room.

You and Jungkook were planning to stay the night at his parents’ house, considering how tired you were already. You both figured the next day, you could have breakfast with his parents and pack up the car before heading back home.

Your friends hug you and Jungkook goodbye, and your parents are the last to leave. Making you promise to please call anytime you need something. You nod, and your mother tells Jungkook to make sure you take your vitamins everyday.

Jungkook bites his tongue, and laughs with your parents.

The Jeons are so excited to have you and Jungkook stay the night, as it’s been a long time since you’d stayed over. Uncle puts a movie on while getting you a glass of juice that you’d been craving. You’re leaning against Jungkook heavily, eyes already closing.

You don’t even register him carrying you upstairs to the bedroom and tucking you both in.

You couldn’t ask for anything more, for your baby to be surrounded by nothing but love when she is welcomed into the warm world.

When baby Yeona finally does arrive after a sixteen hour labor and lots of screaming as your body literally rips itself in half to deliver this baby, you cry immediately. You and Jungkook both cry at the sight of your wrinkly little baby, hearing her first screeches in the open air of the delivery room. The nurses take her away to clean her up and check her vitals.

“You did so good, baby,” Jungkook says in a hushed voice. You don’t have the energy to reply. Jungkook kisses your forehead and tells you to sleep.

It takes Jungkook about a day or two for the soreness to leave his fingers from how tightly you had gripped his hand during delivery.

Baby Yeona is a healthy newborn with deep, brown eyes and a thick tuft of black hair on her head. You and Jungkook are both terrified when you take her home, asking the nurses a million and one questions.

After all, there’s no call button at home that you can press and have a nurse instantly show up.

There are many sleepless nights filled with tears from both you, Jungkook and Yeona. But eventually, you find a groove. You want this so badly. The day you hear Yeona’s first gurgling laugh, her first crescent eyed smile and see her raise her head up on her own…

You and Jungkook both cry. All of Yeona’s firsts are filled with tears, and of course you and Jungkook document everything you can.

Your camera roll is filled with pictures of Yeona sleeping on her Appa’s bare chest. Skin to skin was important for babies, and in general, that’s just how Jungkook cuddles. Sometimes, this was the only way for Yeona to quiet down after a fussy few hours.

When she lays on top of Jungkook, she looks like his mini-me. But Jungkook disagrees with you.

“What are you thinking about,” Jungkook murmurs, kissing your cheek. You’re watching a seven month old Yeona crawl around the room as quickly as she can in her legless onesie.

“Yeonie, come here honey,” you coo, waving your arms to catch her attention with her current favorite toy (a stuffed lion toy).

Yeona sees you and squeals, rushing over to you as fast as her chubby legs can take her. You lift her up in the air and she squeals even louder, reaching for your face with big eyes.

You smooch her chubby cheeks and blow raspberries on her belly as she shrieks in delight. “Come here, my sweet baby,” Jungkook says softly, opening his arms for his daughter. She reaches for him instantly and tucks her head into the crevice of his neck and shoulder.

Jungkook lays back and you lay next to him, rubbing a sleepy Yeona’s back gently. “What are you thinking about?” Jungkook asks again, nudging you. You have a thoughtful look on your face.

“Nothing,” you smile, “Just thinking about Yeona. She’s gonna be teething soon.”

“She’s gonna be a hard biter, I just know it. I mean look at you,” Jungkook teases. You roll your eyes.

“We should take her somewhere special soon,” Jungkook muses, “Let’s take her to that botanical garden by Tae’s place. And then maybe we can stop by to see him?”

“Yeah, maybe next week? Or the week after?” you nod. You glance around the living room, Yeona’s favorite toys strewn all over the floor and an opened jar of baby food on the coffee table. On the walls are photos of you and Jungkook together from before you had Yeona, and photos of the three of you. And then a few of just Yeona.

“Our story is so beautiful,” you murmur, “I love you so much, Jungkook. I would change nothing that we did to get to this point.”

“Me neither, angel,” Jungkook says, smoothing back Yeona’s hair, “Me neither.”

Yeona gurgles in her sleep as if she’s agreeing with him. You place her blanket over her back and smile when she curls further into Jungkook’s embrace, her fists tiny and balled up near her face.

Nothing could compare to this quiet moment of faint music playing on the record player, of Yeona breathing gently against his chest. Every day with her and Jungkook is an adventure, one filled with love and tears and tenderness.

“Wanna have another one?” Jungkook says, mostly joking.

“Jungkook, I’ll kick your ass right here, I mean it-”

“Watch your language, my baby is right here,” Jungkook says, covering her tiny ears.

You roll your eyes fondly and kiss him anyway. Your heart blooms and beats right within the walls of this house, in time with the adoration that spills from Jungkook’s doe eyes.

You wouldn’t have it any other way, after all.

EPILOGUE- watermelon sugar

Quiet time with Jungsoo is one of Jungkook’s favorite things. They both sit in the art room next to each other at the table that you had only recently purchased. Jungkook still has his corner of the room, filled with doodles and illustrations and ideas to bring to life in the tattoo parlor.

Now, it’s filled with scribbles and colors made by Jungsoo. The wall next to the area where Jungkook’s things are contains scribbles in varying colors along the perimeter.

Your youngest child, your four year old baby Jungsoo, was the spitting image of Jungkook. With his big eyes that seemingly encompassed his entire face, his squishy cheeks and his big, bunny smile. Even today, he’s matching Jungkook’s overalls and his striped shirt. Jungsoo was always by Jungkook’s side when he could be, always searching for his Appa in a room full of people.

Jungsoo is a quiet boy, so unlike his two elder sisters, Yeona (the eldest) and Hayoon (the second eldest). When both Yeona and Hayoon were together, it was almost always chaos. Jungsoo was so quiet, only speaking when he felt it necessary. You and Jungkook never pushed him to any point of discomfort to force him to talk, only wanting him to always be comfortable. He had spoken his first word when he was a little over two years old. Jungsoo communicates with you in different ways- with his eyes, his hands, his soft noises, his delightful laughter.

Yeona and Hayoon are both incredibly protective of him, ready to pounce on anyone who looks at their baby brother in any kind of way that makes him uncomfortable. You and Jungkook were both surprised by Yeona and Hayoon’s personalities as they grew- neither of you were particularly extroverted or loud the way that they were.

Well. You chalk it up to Jimin’s and Taehyung’s influence on them. The girls kept you on your toes, that was for sure.

When Jungkook was in the art room with Jungsoo, only the soft sounds of ocean waves or classical music played from the record player in the other corner of the room. Jungsoo sat in full concentration, swinging his legs on the chair and peering over at Jungkook’s drawing every so often.

Jungkook gives him an illustration for him to color in by himself, and Jungsoo beams at him blindingly. His smile reminds Jungkook of your smile, but you deny him every time. Jungsoo decides it’s time for a break and leans against Jungkook’s arm, tugging on his sleeve.

Jungkook picks him up and brings him into his lap, bouncing him a little on his thigh. He smoothes a hand over his thick, dark hair, pressing a kiss to his head.

“Everything okay, honey?” Jungkook whispers. Jungsoo nods, pointing at his juice at the end of the table. “Here you go,” Jungkook says and Jungsoo drinks his favorite peach drink eagerly.

He even offers some to Jungkook, who tells him to drink his juice. Eventually, Jungsoo goes back to coloring, lips shifted in concentration as he tries his best to color within the lines (not that he has much spatial awareness at this moment). Jungsoo looks up at Jungkook, looking at his hair curiously (which is currently dyed blue after Hayoon said she wanted to see Appa’s hair blue and that it wasn’t fair that only Amma got to see colors in Appa’s hair. His hair is neatly tied in a half-up half-down way, his bangs falling into his forehead easily).

He grabs the dark blue crayon he was looking for in delight and continues on.

***************

“Honey, can you give me the pot over there?”

“Here, ma,” Yeona says. It’s the clay pot that Hayoon had painted during school for mother’s day. Gardening is one of the few things that Yeona and Hayoon both like. So here you are on this breezy morning, wearing sun hats and sunscreen.

“What should we plant today, honeys?”

“I want sunflowers!” Hayoon screeches.

“I want apples!” Yeona exclaims.

“Okay, we can do both. What should we do for Jungsoo and Appa?”

“Strawberry for Appa. Maybe… tulips for Jungsoo. He likes them, Amma,” Yeona says matter-of-factly.

“Oh, I had no idea,” You gasp, feigning surprise. Of course, you knew that tulips and daffodils were your baby’s favorite flowers.

“That’s okay. We ‘member for you, ma,” Hayoon says, “I going to get Jungsoo and daddy.”

“They’re in the art room, knock on the door before you go inside, Yoonie,” You call after her. She gives you a thumbs up in return. You offer Yeona the gardening shovel and tell her to wear her gloves.

Your girls have always been independent, always wanting to do things on their own. You can recall when Yeona was Jungsoo’s age, it only took her a few tries to learn to ride a bike by herself without training wheels (of course, she fell once or twice in the process). Hayoon has always been vocal about what clothes she would like to wear. They both have an opinion of everything, which you love. They both also help you and Jungkook where they can in the kitchen- helping you rinse rice or vegetables, or helping with sweeping the floors.

Marinating meat is Jungkook and Jungsoo’s activity that they do together when they can.

The thing that Yeona, Hayoon and Jungsoo all like to do together is build Legos and watch television. Jungsoo’s spot is right in between his sisters usually, with blankets on top of all three of them. Sometimes, he’ll want to be in either your or Jungkook’s lap.

“Daddy,” Hayoon whispers, sure to use her inside voice so as to not startle Jungsoo, “Amma said to come to the garden.”

“Come inside, Yoonie,” Jungkook says. Jungsoo perks up at the sight of his sister and he waves at her, then pointing at his colored picture.

“That looks weally nice, Jungsoo,” Hayoon beams and he hides his face in Jungkook’s arm shyly.

“Mommy’s planting tulips, wanna go see?” She says and Jungsoo immediately jumps off of the bench and zooms out of the art room. But he waits in the hallway for his sister, holding her hand as they run to the yard.

“No running,” Jungkook mutters to himself, deciding to clean up now rather than later. He hangs up Jungsoo’s drawings on the easel next to the stuffed elephant (Jungsoo’s selection) in front of the small chalkboard. He cleans out the eraser shavings, puts the crayons back into the box and into the drawer where he belongs. Jungkook holds off on cleaning the remnants of his pencil drawings from his hands, though.

He meets you and the kids in the yard, where Jungsoo is hugging your leg and watching you tell him how to pat the soil in the pot down. A blue bucket hat sits on top of his head and he looks up at you with curious eyes.

“You can do it, honey,” You encourage softly, giving him a kid sized plastic gardening shovel.

“You can do it, Jungsoo!” Yeona shouts, “It’s fun, like this-”

She shows him how to pat the soil in her own pot and Jungsoo lets go of your leg to mimic his oldest sister. He’s so gentle with the soil, chubby fingers encased in gloves as he pats the soil for the tulip seeds.

“Good job, Jungsoo!” Hayoon exclaims, patting his hair, “I hope they red an’ wellow.”

“What color do you want them to be, lil guy?” Jungkook asks, sitting on the other side of Jungsoo.

“Tu-wip?” Jungsoo asks softly, “Pink.”

“Pink tulips are so pretty,” Jungkook nods, pressing a kiss to his cheek, “We’ll see in a few weeks, huh?” Jungsoo nods and smiles, giving the shovel back to you.

“What are you two up to over there?” Jungkook asks Yeona and Hayoon. Jungsoo walks around the garden with you to water the plants in his cute, blue watering can. He holds your hand tightly as you give him an overview of the different plants and vegetables and fruits that need water and new soil.

“Nothing, Appa,” they both call out in a sing-song voice.

“Oh really?” Jungkook says, sitting in front of them. They burst out into giggles.

“We put strawberry seeds, Appa,” Hayoon says, “It gonna be yummy.”

“What should we make with the strawberries?” Jungkook asks.

“Um… ice cream!” Yeona shouts, “Cake!”

“Strawberry shortcake?”

“Yes!” they shout, jumping in the air with excited laughter.

“It’ll take a while, they need to grow like you two and Jungsoo grew up,” Jungkook says, poking their cheeks.

“Uncle Jimin say we gwow fast,” Hayoon says.

“He’s right,” Jungkook sighs, “Growing up too fast for your Appa.”

Hayoon and Yeona both launch themselves into Jungkook’s arms, tackling him to the grass and hugging him close in a fit of laughter. The three of them lay on the grass and stare up at the sky, clouds floating across the peaceful baby blue without a care in the world. Jungkook hugs his girls close, pointing up at the sky and asking them to tell him what shapes the clouds are-

“That one look like Uncle Yoongi when he wake up.”

“That one look like Amma when Yoonie gets grass in the living room.”

His girls sure are perceptive and creative, alright. He doesn’t know how Yeona is already nine years old and how Hayoon is six years old. Jungkook used to be afraid of time slipping through his fingers and constantly chasing after it. But now…

Now, he embraces the warmth of the grass beneath him and the boisterous laughter of his girls next to him. Hayoon plays with the strands of his blue hair, telling him that she’s gonna dye her hair next.

Jungkook makes a mental note to buy washable hair wax. He hears the sound of soft footsteps stopping just before his head but he keeps his eyes closed, wanting to see what Jungsoo would do.

He can’t resist, so he cracks an eye open and sees his identical sparkling eyes peering down at him. Jungkook brings him onto his chest (so as to not irritate his dermatitis by coming in contact with the grass) and lays him down so that he is facing the sky. You lay on Jungkook’s other side, telling the girls to come near you.

“Hey daddy,” you whisper, pecking his lips. Much to Yeona’s chagrin, who screeches at the sight. You rub Jungkook’s shoulder, watching lines of happiness settle in his face.

“Hey amma,” he replies, pecking you back. Watching Jungkook like this, his hair soft against the grass, eyes turned up to the sky and arms tight around his youngest… it makes you choke up.

It feels like forever ago, it feels like only yesterday that you were taking your first ride on his motorcycle. He still has the same one, parked in your driveway. It looks as pristine as the first day he got it.

The only thing that has changed about Jungkook is the lines in his face and the softness in his eyes. And the various imprints of ink in his skin that he got after each child was born. He has a small tree around the tiger lily on his arm, with the initials of you and all of the kids surrounding it.

You’ve also gotten a few more tattoos since the first one (as well as re-piercing your nipple piercing. It reminds you of when you and Jungkook first moved in together, and you quite like thinking of that time.)

Jungsoo excitedly pats Jungkook’s hands, pointing at the sky and gesturing for his sisters and you to look, too. The summer sun has begun to set, painting the sky in oranges, pinks, and lilacs. Jungsoo looks with wide, doe eyes and you can’t help but kiss his cheek.

“It’s pretty!” Hayoon says happily.

“Maybe Jungsoo and daddy can paint it!” Yeona chimes in.

Jungsoo beams at them and claps his hands. “You wanna do that, lil guy?” Jungkook says, rubbing his belly. He feels the boy nod against his chest and Jungkook plants a quick kiss to his nose.

You hug the girls close, ignoring their muffled protests and flailings. “I love you,” you say in a sing-song voice.”

“Love you,” Yeona grumbles in feigned annoyance.

“And I love you, my littlest baby,” you coo at Jungsoo who hides his face from the onslaught of your kisses to his chubby cheeks. He giggles into Jungkook’s chest, peeking out to catch your eyes.

“Ma, can we watch da stars later,” Hayoon pleads.

“It’ll be past your bedtime…” You warn. But how are you meant to resist four pairs of identical doe eyes? You’re not.

“Just this once,” You sigh, Yeona and Hayoon erupting into cheers, and Jungsoo clapping his hands together. You know Jungsoo will likely be fast asleep by the time the night settles into the sky and the moon pokes her head around. But he’ll also try his best to stay awake, especially if his sisters are.

“C’mon, let’s go inside,” Jungkook murmurs. Jungsoo runs inside with the girls as they chatter away, excited to stargaze.

“I’ll cut up some watermelon,” you suggest, rubbing his chest, “Go wash up.”

“Gimme a kiss first, baby,” Jungkook says, already pressing his lips to yours and slipping his tongue into your welcoming mouth. “Shower later?”

“I guess,” you sigh dramatically, as if it was a burden. Jungkook squeezes your ass teasingly and you roll your eyes.

But still, permanent butterflies erupt in your belly with each touch of his.

***************

“Yoonie and Yeonie, come here,” Jungkook says. They both launch themselves into Jungkook’s lap, who falls back on the swing with a gentle thump. You spread some blankets across their legs to keep them warm and hand them each a bowl of freshly cut watermelon.

Jungsoo sits in your lap, leaning against your chest. He’s nodding off only after having a few pieces of watermelon. It’s not particularly his favorite, and he side eyed you when he saw you cutting them.

He tries to keep his eyes open to see the moon, but the gentle way that you’re rubbing his belly and his scalp has him nearly fully asleep.

“What’s that star, Appa?” Yeona whispers, pointing up at the darkened sky. If she had asked a year ago, Jungkook wouldn’t have known. He had learned what constellations appeared in the sky based on whatever season it was because the girls were interested in astronomy.

“That’s part of Hercules,” Jungkook says.

“Like the movie!” Hayoon exclaims.

“Yup, like the movie.”

“I like that movie.”

Yeona and Hayoon both chatter amongst themselves about what movie they want to see next on movie night before falling silent and embracing the night air and the night sky. Jungkook rubs their backs, kissing their foreheads.

You move a little closer to Jungkook while trying your best not to shuffle Jungsoo too much in your lap and rest your head on the minimal space of Jungkook’s shoulder.

“You’re quiet,” Jungkook says to you, “Tired?”

“I love you,” you murmur, “In case you forgot.”

“You could stand to remind me more often,” he teases. You peck his lips once more and eat the remainder of Jungsoo’s unfinished pieces of watermelon. Looking up at the moon, you sigh in contentment. She’s full and bright tonight, painting the dark sky in strands of silver.

“Daddy, do you ever wanna visit the moon?” Yeona asks curiously.

“Oh honey, I don’t need to.”

“Why? Have you been there already?” Hayoon chirps.

“I have the entire universe right here,” Jungkook says easily, voice full of conviction. His hair rustles with the light breeze as he presses another kiss to Yeona and Hayoon’s foreheads before looking over to you and kissing your forehead as well.

You are the sun. Jungkook is always in your orbit and the kids are their own tiny supernovas, sparkling and creating bursts of color in their own ways.

He kisses a sleeping Jungsoo before brushing his lips over your hair once more and settling into his seat, watching the twinkling stars with his own twinkling eyes.

MoM tags: @tiemeuptogoldenchains @boymeetsparadise @jungkooksseuphoria @kaepjjangiya @drumsofheaven @ppeachyttae @tae-bebe @yiyi4657 @mygscafe @beeeetsandskzreads @maichiverse @hordanhearsawhooo @anonymous2505 @dreadity @mysugarkoo @ultraanonymousey @moonchild1 @fan-ati--c @yeotan07 @sloanferg @libra04