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Another Fallen Angel

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Jimin hated the way his body heated up under the other's fiery gaze, hated the way he wanted to rub his thighs together, hated the way his cheeks blushed and he imagined all sorts of things he shouldn't. He should be better than this, he had decided to choose a path of purity, and yet he loved it. He wanted more of it.

And it was that desire that had him furiously flushing as he tended to the new wounds of this Fallen soldier, the enemy, his captor. He was a bargaining tool, a mere casualty if injured, but for the few weeks he'd been a prisoner he had not been treated as badly as he'd feared. Each angel captive had someone to look after, and at first Jimin was scared he would be turned into a slave used for sex, but that was not the case at all. Rather, he was treated surprisingly kindly. It didn't help that the soldier was young and fit, calm and quietly spoken. To his horror, Jimin wanted Jungkook to do things to him that he himself was unsure of, but it kept him awake at night, sweaty and fighting not to give in.

It was that desire that had Jimin trusting him, falling for him, not pulling away when Jungkook leaned closer, hand sliding up Jimin's prisoner robes, starting from his knees and then travelling slowly up his leg, burning and leaving flames licking the skin. Despite the quick gasp from Jimin, the action seemed like a natural progression after weeks of unspoken tension, shy glances and red cheeks.

"Do you want me to stop?" Jungkook whispered as Jimin finished healing a small wound, no doubt made by an arrow piercing into the golden, tan skin. An arrow from an angel's bow, and here Jimin was tending the enemy.

Jimin bit his lip as a wave of pleasure sizzled up his body, a need he had never experienced or let himself explore overtaking him. Jimin had seen many beautiful, handsome people and not one of them made him crave something the way Jungkook did. He knew it was so, so wrong, he'd be frowned upon, but Jungkook was so gentle, so sweet despite his rough edges. So unlike anyone Jimin had met before.

"You should."  Jimin replied and Jungkook instantly dropped his hand, Jimin didn't  anticipate the deep disappointment he got in return. However, Jungkook put that hand on his waist, this time over the robe, the thin physical barrier doing little to shield Jimin from the effects of his touch.

"That doesn't answer my question, angel." He said softly, eyes looking into Jimin's with a burning lust covered by a kind consideration.

Jimin took a shaky breath. His whole future was on the line, and yet he gave in to the yearning his body was aching for, running a hand over Jungkook's arm, tracing over the shadows of his muscles up to his sharp jawline. He rested his forehead against Jungkook's and felt his cheeks burning. “No… I don't want you to stop."

Jungkook searched his gaze for a few more seconds before scrunching the robe up in his hands, exposing more and more of Jimin's  untouched, naked skin, shivering from the cold. Jimin whined in embarrassment and he leaned into Jungkook's  neck, earning a chuckle that sounded so endearing. Jungkook pulled him closer, lower half bare and pressed against Jungkook's jeans, hardness against Jimin's  abdomen and he felt excitement rack his body, need spilling from his lips. From there he was picked up and pressed back into the mattress, his robes completely gone the next minute and then Jungkook's mouth was on him everywhere, drawing out sounds Jimin didn't  realise he could make, stars behind his eyelids. His hands knew exactly where to touch to make Jimin keen, something coiling low in his stomach, and coming undone twice before Jungkook even entered him, stealing his virginity, stripping him of the future Jimin had planned for himself, and guaranteeing shame on his family for when they found out.

Jimin's m ind was too hazy too care, his heart too full to feel any sort of remorse.

"Hurts." Jimin whimpered and his nails dug in from where he had placed his hands uncertainly around Jungkook's torso.

"I'm sorry."  Jungkook kissed his lips softly, before sucking at a spot on Jimin's  neck, trying his best to still his hips, elbows planted either side of Jimin's  head and waiting for him to adjust.

Jimin smoothed his hand up and down the planes of Jungkook's broad  back, trying to get used to the feeling. It was slightly bizarre, and yet there was a part of him that felt complete. Jungkook groaned into his neck and Jimin realised his body had become tense, slightly shaking.

"Can I move?"  he asked brokenly and Jimin nodded.

He started nice and slow, and by the time the pace picked up Jimin was too far gone to care about the bruises surely being made on his hips, or the pain he'd  feel tomorrow, pleasure wrapping him up and tipping him over the edge, eyes squeezed shut as he clutched onto the Fallen. He woke up in those same arms that had held and lead him through his moment of sin, and Jimin then fathomed how much he had lost.

He wept into his hands as his lover woke up, green more evident than black as he gazed at Jimin, keeping him against his chest.

"Jimin? Are you hurt?"  His thumb rubbed circles on Jimin's  waist, and the touch should revolt him but it didn't.  It was completely the opposite.

"No, not at all," Jimin shook his head as more tears left his eyes, "but we committed a sin."

It is only a sin for you. The act of sex is not beheld for me the way you angels do."

Jimin wiped his cheeks. I should never have done this I promised myself I'd serve the Higher angels and be in the temples. I can never step foot in there again."

Jungkook's  thumb stopped and he shifted Jimin in his hold, perhaps to get a better look at his face. Jimin was covering his eyes with his hands either way, not wanting to see the harsh reality for what he had let it become, gathering the tears that continued to silently fall.

“I  wasn't  aware. I shouldn't  have encouraged you then, I apologize." Jungkook's  voice was sincere.

Jimin swore his heart ached from his words. “It's my fault, as you said, sex is not special for you."

"That’s not true. The act of sex is not, at least for me, but it matters more who it’s with. Don’t misunderstand and think all Fallens are like me, I assure you they’re not. Some have the same values you do, some much less.”

Jimin shivered and felt even more shame if that was possible for the hint of disappointment in Jungkook’s tone.

Jungkook tugged the blankets up around Jimin’s bare shoulders, a warmth surrounding him that couldn’t just be from the absence of cold wind. “If it comforts you at all, you are still pure to me, far more than most angels I have met.”

“You are just lying to make me feel better.” Jimin murmured and Jungkook chuckled quietly into his hair, a fondness that Jimin may have craved more than the lust.

“And even if I was, I would be lying because I want you to feel better.”

Jimin felt a wave of longing, and looked up at Jungkook, head falling back on the pillow. He lightly touched a purple mark he had left on Jungkook’s neck. “You could just want me for sex."

Jungkook smiled as he ran his fingers through Jimin's hair. You shouldn't say things you don't believe, angel."





Jimin’s eyelids felt heavy, and his body was weak. Blearily, he sat up, muscles aching and breath already short from the brief effort. The room spun for a few seconds and it took a couple more for Jimin to realise where he was.

He was in his room, curtains drawn and furniture untidy but upright.

A surge of panic spread through his chest as he remembered what had happened. The Underground army attacked through Omelas – the havoc and chaos, demons terrorising the angels and –

Jimin would have sprang out of bed if it wasn’t for the crippling pain that shot through his body. Tears welled in his eyes from the excruciation. There was no origin to the source of agony – it was within his body and it seized his muscles and forced him to collapse back onto the sheets.


Jimin weakly sobbed as he wondered what had become of his three month old child.

Would they have spared him? Just an innocent boy, not even fully angel.

Why was he laid in his bed like this? Where was everyone? Why wasn’t he dead? Why wasn’t his home burning?

His thoughts were interrupted when the door opened softly, and Jimin braced himself for the worst but was met with a familiar face.


Taehyung smiled warmly and rushed in after closing the door behind him. There was a bruise on his face, a scratch disappearing down his neck but besides that he seemed okay. “Don’t – don’t get up. Lie down, everything is fine.”

“Tae, what happened? Where’s Cheongmi? What’s going on?”

“He’s safe, he’s sleeping downstairs.” Taehyung eased him and stroked Jimin’s hair in the way he knew soothed him. “Do you remember much?”

Jimin grimaced, still wanting to see his baby personally, but trusting that if Taehyung said he was alright, he was. “They came and I remember getting thrown against a wall and I think – I think I got cursed – and Cheongmi was crying from under the bed.” New sobs made their way up Jimin’s constricting throat and that crippling pain raced through him again, curling around his heart. “I got cursed, Tae, I can feel it.”

“We’ve reversed it. It’ll take another day or so to fully go away, but it’s been reversed.” Taehyung immediately replied, giving him a relieved grin.

“How?” Jimin questioned. Demon curses were incredibly difficult to place, and even harder to remove, especially by an angel. Slow curses spread like poison, shutting down the victim’s organs whilst rendering them immobile, otherwise they’d suffer physical torment – the aftershocks Jimin was still experiencing. Taehyung’s smile wavered and Jimin furrowed his eyebrows, listening in to the silence and serenity. “How did we win?”

Omelas did not hold weapons or have God’s army. They were at complete mercy to the onslaught of the underground.

Taehyung sighed and sat down beside the bed. “The Fallen came.”

Jimin’s chest tightened.

The Fallen was a collective term which referred to fallen angels - angels who had been banished for unforgivable acts like betrayal and treachery to the kingdom. They occupied areas of heaven and the underground, built their own hierarchy and way of life. Eventually, they became sort of like their own race – not an angel, but not quite a demon. They were powerful, knew the spells of the angels, the curses of the devils. Some argued they became superior, and it was for that reason the heavens tried to banish them entirely to the underground.

During that brief war, they had both taken captives for bargaining and Jimin had been one of them. He didn’t like to think back to that time, but he always did. Jimin had just turned twenty before his capture, and decided to dedicate himself to a life in the temple, listening to the prayers of the humans and serving the Higher angels of the kingdom. He’d been in training when the Fallen invaded and took him in.The Fallen raided the temples, stepped onto holy ground, and if that didn't infuriate Jimin enough he had been bound and blindfolded and taken back to their base where he was given to a soldier. He and other angel prisoners had not been tortured or starved, but made to work – cook, clean, tend to injured soldiers who fought against their people.

There, Jimin fell in love with the chief’s son.

He broke his promise, marred himself from ever being able to take the oath to devote himself to the temples.

Jimin just stared up at Taehyung, eyes wide.

His best friend swallowed guiltily. “I’m sorry, Jimin.”


He came. He was leading the attack on the Underground… he was the one who reversed the curse on you.” Taehyung said in a rush as Jimin was frozen in shock, imagining those iridescent green eyes and piercing stare.

“But does he… does he know?” Jimin whispered.

Taehyung paused before nodding, biting his lip. “Cheongmi was with the other infants when they finished fighting off the Underground. But he wouldn’t stop bawling and he needed comfort – he watched you get cursed, he was traumatised – but we couldn’t bring him to you because you still had the curse in you and we didn’t know if it could spread. You know how much angels need their parents when they’re still babies, we were desperate and Jungkook was there.”

Jimin felt his breath catch in his through, could feel his eyes watering. It had been a long time since anyone had spoken his name out loud.

“Cheongmi was so scared, we were afraid his light would give in – we couldn’t let him die.” Taehyung gripped Jimin’s hand when he saw he was shaking from hearing about the fragile state his son had been in whilst Jimin had been unconscious. It was difficult enough Cheongmi only had one parent with him, a delicate way for a baby to grow up when they really needed a bond with both.

“What did he say?” Jimin murmured, blinking to keep the tears at bay.

“Not much. He just asked for his name.” Taehyung replied but his voice had gone soft and there was a tenderness in his gaze. “Before we could even explain I think he knew.” Taehyung squeezed Jimin’s hand. “Cheongmi relaxed almost instantly… Jungkook held him until he fell asleep, and then he came and sat up here with you.”

Jimin wanted to know many things – if Jungkook had looked angry that he unknowingly had a son, if he had been happy, if he adored Cheongmi as much as Jimin did. In the end, all he could say was a small “He did?”

“Yes. He’s been so worried about you.” Taehyung said and let out a long breath, suddenly looking regretful and ashamed. “I understand now. Why you did what you did.”

Jimin felt like shrinking underneath his stare, but it wasn’t unkind. Of course, when he returned from captivity he had not been welcomed without judgement. He fell in love and gave himself to a Fallen who had probably killed many from Heaven’s army, backed out of the future he had chosen. And then, a few months later, he found out he was pregnant.

Jimin could have been banished then and there. He was allowed to stay merely because his child was unborn and innocent, and Jimin had not yet completed his training and taken his oath.

Still, his family shut him out. He could still see the disappointed expression of his parents, the harsh words spat by his mother, the confused look of his younger brother.


“You spread your legs for the first handsome man that looked in your direction. He’s a demon Jimin – he’s unclean. He’s filth. He was the enemy, for goodness sake.”

“It wasn’t like that at all! Please!” Jimin pleaded but his mother and father had turned away.

Jihyun stood in front of him, looking so young and lost. “You weren’t forced, right? Because that’s different if you were, hyung, if you didn’t give consent it’s not the same –”

“No, no, I wanted to.”

“Was it a mistake?”

Jimin gulped. “I don’t know.” Jimin had slept with Jungkook too many times for it to have been a mistake. He couldn’t bring himself to say he regretted it, and the only thing he wished was that the people he loved could try understand. He could see why they wouldn’t though, Jimin himself barely could.

“Then… he must have been nice, at least. You must have liked him a lot. I know you hyung, and you wouldn’t just do something like this.” Jihyun sighed.

“He was. He was really nice.” Jimin said desperately, feeling so inadequate in front of his brother.

Jihyun looked back over his shoulder at their beautiful beige house, the one they both grew up in, the door having been slammed shut by their parents. “But even so, he didn’t want you to stay with him. He didn’t love you. When I heard what you did, I’d hoped you’d at least done it because of love.”

Jimin looked down at his feet, wishing he could have better words to say at this moment, to ease his younger brother of his worries. “I think I did love him.” I think I do.

“I’m sorry, hyung. I love you so much. I’m sorry he didn’t.” Jihyun gave Jimin one last hug, eyes glassy, before stepping back into the house.

Jimin dropped onto his knees, hopes sinking. He wished he had told Jungkook before he left, but sleeping with a demon was already terrible enough, and falling in love with one was even worse.


Jimin sighed sadly at the memory, only having seen Jihyun a handful of times since then. In addition to that, he lost many of the friends he had known since infancy. Taehyung had stuck by him, but Jimin knew as much as he accepted what Jimin did, he’d always had his own doubts about it. Until now, perhaps.

“Because they saved us?” Jimin asked and Taehyung glanced away.

“That, too. But mainly because I get what you mean now when you told me there was something inherently good about him. I never could fathom how you loved someone that was three-quarters demon, a skilled murderer, brutal and barbaric, but I think I do now. There’s something trustworthy about him. Something… kind.”

Jimin felt his cheeks warm and a lump in his throat. “Yeah.” His mind flashed back to calloused hands sliding on Jimin’s skin, lips tracing over the shell of his ear right down to his collarbones, lean body rippling with muscle holding Jimin against him, warm and safe and gentle. A part of him was still so smitten with the chief's son, still pining for a romance he shouldn't have ever wanted, still aching for his sweet smiles and reassuring words.

“He cares about you an awful lot. After he reversed the curse he kept apologizing to you for not coming sooner, for not being here to protect you, for letting you go.” Taehyung recounted and he seemed genuinely touched by the memory. “It’s the only reason they came to help us. Because of him. Because of you.”

Jimin pressed his lips together, trying to stop the tremble. He curled his hand into the blankets and tried to calm down his racing heart.

Taehyung stood up slowly. “He said he wants to talk to you.”

Jimin shuffled up so he could lean weakly against the headboard, chewing on his lip as he stared down at the bed, not wanting to reveal how greatly he was affected. He was sure Taehyung could tell nonetheless. “Oh.”

“I can go get him for you. Only if you want to see him, that is.”

Jimin felt nerves forming in his stomach and maybe a bit of fear. They hadn’t seen each other for so many months and it's felt like years. Jimin never went back to tell him of their child, and Jungkook was the one who told him to go back to his home after the war ended. He told Jimin to forget about him, that there was no future for them together.

Jimin just wanted him to ask him to stay.

He missed him so badly.

“I… guess.”

Taehyung gave his hand a final squeeze before leaving the room, leaving the door half open. Jimin drew his knees to his chest, wincing at the hot pain, different emotions swirling inside his body as he shifted his position so he was on the edge of the bed, facing the door. His chest was aching, and every cell of his body was buzzing with excitement. Now with Jungkook so close Jimin realised he had been waiting for so long. He had been hurting for Jungkook since the second he came back to the Heavens.

He pressed the heels of his palms to his eyes and took a few deep breaths, trying to steady his voice and not look so vulnerable. He had been strong during his pregnancy despite the lack of support he received, and when he carried Cheongmi for the first time and heard his loud cries he was so in love with the beautiful life they had created. There wasn’t an ounce of regret. But it was hard, having a physical, everyday reminder of Jungkook even more so in his life – Cheongmi had inherited Jungkook’s stormy green eyes and straight, raven locks, his high nose-bridge and thin lips, adorned with a perfect cupid’s bow. It was the shape of Cheongmi’s eyes that were the most different from Jungkook’s. Rather than the large, round ones of the Fallen, they were more angular and sharp. But they were framed by long lashes, and had a small downwards corner. They were his own eyes – a perfect blend of both his parents. “I can see bits of you in Cheongmi though!”  Taehyung had said when he first saw Jimin’s son. “The shape of your face, and your cheekbones. The way he smiles is just like you.”

Jimin closed his eyes and was reminded of all the times he’s dreamt about Jungkook – some were memories, others were the deep desires Jimin had for them to be together as a family, a few were not too good and had made him wake up shaking and crying, rushing to Cheongmi.

His eyes snapped open when the door was pushed open, and he hastily let his legs drop over the edge of the bed. His body stiffened as he glanced up and met the scorching gaze of the person at the door, more demon than angel. Memories didn’t do him justice. They didn’t fully capture the sharpness of his jaw, the intensity of his eyes, the shadows of his dimples. His hair was pushed back from his forehead, body as fit and sculpted as Jimin remembered. Jimin’s mouth had gone dry.

Jungkook closed the door, all the while keeping his eyes focussed on Jimin, the small click as it shut was the only sound in the room.

It took Jimin a second to realise Jungkook was holding something in his arms, and once he had stepped closer to the bed Jimin realised it was Cheongmi, sound asleep in a bundle of blankets.

“Oh, sweetie.” Jimin gasped and immediately reached for him, Jungkook passing him into his arms. Their hands brushed and Jimin ignored the way his heart beat faster.

Cheongmi didn’t waken, but he had a small smile on his face, and Jimin could sense his energy was more at ease than it had ever been before, undoubtedly from the other presence in the room. Jimin brushed his fingertips over Cheongmi’s cheek, assuring himself that yes, he was fine. By the time he had ridden his worries, he noticed Jungkook was standing in front of him, so close Jimin could lean up and pull Jungkook down for a kiss. He’d missed his kisses, he’d missed everything.

“He’s beautiful.” Jungkook finally spoke, voice low and smooth like rich chocolate.

There was a crash of thoughts and fears and hopes, and Jimin tipped his head back to look at him properly. The affectionate gaze Jungkook had on Cheongmi flittered up to Jimin and then it didn’t matter that they hadn’t seen each other for months, that they’d never really spoken about what they really wanted, that Jungkook was the son of those who sinned and that Jimin was an angel set for purity and innocence. It didn’t matter that meeting Jungkook corrupted him, because his now tainted heart had wanted Jungkook from the second he saw him.

Jimin didn’t say anything as he grabbed the collar of Jungkook’s jacket and tugged him down. He came eagerly, lips smashing onto Jimin’s, force pushing him onto his back, Cheongmi nestled against Jimin’s chest as Jungkook caged him in, hands on either side of his head, lips ravishing his. There was a shot of pain up Jimin’s body which was gone the second he flinched, and Jimin knew Jungkook had taken it from him.

Jimin couldn’t do much but lie beneath Jungkook, hands holding Cheongmi secure, eyes shut as Jungkook kissed him with a breathless passion, all hot and dark and possessive, and yet so sweet in a way a demon-blooded shouldn’t be. Jimin sighed into the kiss.

When Jungkook pulled back he stayed close, nose touching his, hand brushing Jimin’s wavy, blonde hair out of his eyes. Jimin cupped the nape of Jungkook’s neck and the other responded by turning his head to kiss the inside of his pale wrist. Jimin felt his body thrum at the action – for someone who was usually all quick, sharp movements, brute force and strength, Jungkook did some of the most tender actions.

“Don’t leave me again.” Jimin whispered and Jungkook’s gaze trained onto him. The way his eyes darkened and the black swirled with the green like two chemically opposed liquids should terrify Jimin, the kaleidoscope of shades should make him shudder – too threatening, too wicked. But Jimin just felt safe.

“I cannot stay here.” Jungkook replied and Jimin knew that would be his answer, but he was still disappointed. Surely, the angels would make an exception – he saved them, he was Cheongmi’s father – they started forming a bond and breaking that would be emotionally catastrophic for the child. However, it wasn’t just that. Jungkook didn’t want to stay in the Heavens, the place that threw out his family and friends, who tried to steal their freedom even after taking their home.

Jimin pulled Jungkook down and he must have thought Jimin was going to kiss him again because his eyes fluttered shut, but Jimin only allowed a brush of their lips before he spoke again. “Then ask me.”

Jungkook’s body tensed and Jimin was afraid one wrong look and his heart might possibly shatter. He was risking everything for him. His was taking the chance that Jimin meant as much to Jungkook as Jungkook meant to him.

“You don’t know what you’re asking for.” Jungkook replied softly, but there was a shiver in his voice, a suppressed desire.

Jimin felt himself burning under Jungkook’s gaze. “I do.”

The I can’t was forming on Jungkook’s lips. He knew why Jungkook hesitated. An angel could never return to the Heavens if they chose to leave. Jimin would lose his halo. He’d become a Fallen. But he’d be Jungkook’s, and that was what Jimin wanted.

“I’m in love with you.” Jimin tangled his fingers into Jungkook’s hair, swallowing thickly and dropping his gaze away from the other, unable to bear the tension anymore. His voice became quiet and fragile. “Please don’t break my heart anymore.”

Jungkook clenched his jaw and brushed a tear away from the corner of Jimin’s eye, hand lingering against his cheek. His stare burned into Jimin, and Jimin’s heard demons could see right into the soul, and he didn’t care if Jungkook could. Then he’d see how much he meant it.

“Jimin…” Jungkook began and he slowly grabbed Jimin’s hand from his hair, and Jimin felt the sting of rejection forming, the realisation that maybe he was wrong, but then Jungkook kissed his knuckles and stroked the back of his hand with his thumb. “Will you come back with me? I have missed you every day since you left, my angel.”

Jimin interlocked his fingers with Jungkook’s, smile wobbling with the emotion that finally surfaced, heart bursting from delight.


Cheongmi woke up in his angel papa’s arms, sleepy and a little disorientated but oh so content.









“I’m sorry, the weather’s really bad today.” Jimin mumbled as Cheongmi pouted at the pouring rain, kite now abandoned on the floor at his feet.

“But I wanted to go today!” he whined, temper flaring in the typical way of a four year old, foot stomping on the ground.

“As soon as it stops we’ll fly your kite, I promise.” Jimin crouched down to give him a comforting hug.

Cheongmi grumbled but returned the embrace, never failing to warm Jimin’s heart.

“Do you want to bake some cookies to cheer you up?” Jimin suggested but his son began tugging away towards the stairs.

“No, I’m going to go play with Cheongha.”

“Alright.” Jimin ruffled his onyx black hair and watched him climb up the stairs with his chubby legs, always determined to make the trip up by himself. Still, it didn’t stop him from giggling when Jungkook met him halfway down the staircase, hoisted him up onto his shoulders and turned back around to take him the rest of the way up.

Jimin followed after them, smiling at the view of his mate and son wrestling on the floor, Cheongha playing with her dolls, completely uninterested with the events occurring beside her. When she saw Jimin she crawled over to him with a big grin.

“Papa!” She squealed and Jimin picked her up, leaving a big kiss on her cheek and sitting down on a cushion. She had hazel, wide eyes and a small button nose, hair a coppery brown – an absolute beauty. Her eyes were iridescent though, showing her demon blood, but besides that she looked like an angel, and she was just that to Jimin and Jungkook.

Jungkook collapsed at his feet, Cheongmi declaring victory before flinching when a loud clap of thunder rang outside.

“C’mere, kiddo.” Jungkook said and Cheongmi sat down beside him, Jungkook propping himself up on his side by his elbow, other hand petting the back of Cheongmi’s head to smooth down the messy, black hair.

“I hate rain, appa!” Cheongmi whined loudly, childish pout back on his face, looking towards Jungkook to make it better.

Cheongha joined in with a “me too,” always eager to copy her brother’s actions and agree with his sentiments, not even two years and already adoring him.

“Maybe the Gods are upset with me.” Jungkook laughed and they all turned to him, one accusingly, the other two curious.

“Why?” Cheongmi asked suspiciously.

“Why? Why?” Cheongha chorused, wiggling in Jimin’s lap.

Jimin furrowed his eyebrows when Jungkook shot him a small smirk. “Because I stole your papa from them."

Cheongmi glanced between his parents, looking absolutely scandalised. It was adorable and Jimin had to hold back his urge to giggle. “What? That’s naughty! You said stealing is bad!”

“I’m a very bad person.” Jungkook grinned as Cheongmi looked dumbstruck.

Cheongha was confused whilst Jimin just sighed, half wanting to smile and the other half wondering how they were going to persuade Cheongmi that yes, stealing is bad and Jungkook wasn’t really a thief.

Cheongmi continued to ramble and hit Jungkook with small fists, whinging about the rain and now gladly having someone to blame.

“Does that mean we have to give papa back?” Cheongmi cried out suddenly, alarmed.

“No, I’m never, ever giving him back.” Jungkook chuckled as he turned to Jimin and sat up, only to lean forward and kiss him quickly. Jimin’s eyes closed instinctively and smiled when Jungkook nipped his bottom lip playfully.

Cheongmi looked relieved whilst Cheongha giggled and clapped her hands. “Appa, kiss!”

Jungkook’s eyes crinkled in the way that always made Jimin swoon as he kissed his daughter’s temple, smacking his lips extra loud.

Cheongmi climbed up on Jimin’s lap too, giving an adorable, toothy little smile which had Jimin’s heart melting. He kissed his cute, little nose before resting his head on Jungkook’s shoulder as they sat in Cheongha’s daisy yellow room, listening to the rain.

Jimin had been ridden of his halo when he left the Heavens and mated with the Fallen, but he was so utterly happy he barely felt the loss. The other angels in the Heavens and his family had been outraged – but those in Omelas understood, Jihyun understood, and Taehyung understood, and they would always allow a visit as thanks to Jungkook and the Fallen, spoiling them with gifts. And yes, perhaps the Gods had been upset, but as Jimin held his two darling children in his arms, with his loving mate by his side, he knew he had also been incredibly blessed.