Work Text:
August 24th – 38 weeks (9 months for non-pregnant people)
For some reason, it hadn’t fully registered in Yoongi’s mind that he was going to be a father.
Even if Jimin looked ready to pop, and the room that had once been their spare was now full of baby stuff, Yoongi still couldn’t quite process the fact that in roughly two weeks, a tiny, perfect mix of him and his mate would be there with them.
Jimin, meanwhile, had made it abundantly clear that he was entirely over the whole experience.
Every day, at least once, he complained about his aching back, his swollen ankles, or how “absolutely massive” he felt as he waddled around the house in the only pair of leggings he insisted still fit him (Yoongi knew for a fact that was a lie. Half his wardrobe still fit perfectly fine, but Jimin refused to wear anything else, and Yoongi didn’t have a death wish), and that old worn-out yellow cardigan Yoongi gifted him when they barely started courting.
Yoongi always did his best to reassure him, offering massages, pressing soft kisses wherever Jimin would let him, pulling him close whenever he grew restless, showering him with compliments, and, really, giving him whatever his omega seemed to need in that particular moment.
Not that Yoongi minded.
If anything, he had to admit he was utterly and completely enamoured with the way Jimin looked those days. Soft around the edges, tummy sticking out of all the shirts Jimin owned, and those round, chubby cheeks he hoped the baby inherited, all of it wrapped in Jimin’s milky scent, added to his already sweet peach one. All in all, he is very happy about the situation.
Still, if someone had told eighteen-year-old Yoongi that by 27 he would have a family, a home, a mate—everything he had once only ever quietly wished for—he probably would have laughed right in their face.
Then again, he had still had two more years before meeting the love of his life, so really, he felt that reaction would have been completely justified.
And yes, maybe they were still a little young to be having children, Jimin especially, but life had a funny way of throwing surprises at people when they least expected them.
Much like Jimin had.
Much like that freezing night in December, nine months earlier, when Jimin had stood in front of him with wide eyes, trembling hands, and a secret so big it had changed both of their lives before Yoongi had even fully understood the words coming out of his mouth.
December 27th – 4 weeks (1 month for non-pregnant people)
Yoongi was finally rounding the corner that led to his apartment’s door after a very long day in the studio. The cold December air tensed his muscles unnecessarily as he walked down the open corridor.
As he got closer, he already began feeling Holly’s tiny claws scratching his legs while greeting him, and he could perfectly picture Jimin sitting on the couch, waiting for him to finally continue the series they had been watching together for the past week while having dinner.
He let out a contented sigh when he reached the door and punched the code in to unlock it, ready for the high-pitched squeals of his tiny fur baby. But when he got inside, he found himself Holly-less, the puppy nowhere to be seen.
Yoongi frowned as he dumped his belongings on the side table in the small entrance, his mind immediately running through every possible explanation for why Holly wasn’t greeting him. He eventually settled on the assumption that the brown poodle was probably asleep on the couch with Jimin—something that happened fairly often whenever Yoongi worked overtime.
After taking off his shoes, he made his way into the living room, only for his frown to deepen when he was met with an empty space. The TV was off, and Jimin was just as MIA as their dog.
“Baby?” Yoongi called out into the silence.
He waited for a second. No answer. Panic started to build in his stomach. Had Jimin left? No. His things were still by the entrance, and his scent still lingered throughout the house.
Yoongi pulled his phone out of his pocket, ready to call Hoseok, Namjoon and Seokjin, when the faint sound of running water reached his ears.
The bathroom.
Jimin was probably in the bathroom, and that’s why he didn’t hear him.
Relief loosened his chest as he walked toward their bedroom instead. The first thing he noticed was Holly, sleeping peacefully on their bed. He cooed under his breath before heading straight for the bathroom.
Jimin was sitting on the edge of the tub, watching it fill in silence. He smelled distressed, with an underlying scent that Yoongi struggled to identify.
“Baby,” Yoongi said again, softer this time.
The younger still startled, turning to him with wide, frightened eyes.
“Yoongi?” he squeaked, hand flying to his chest “Oh, god, you scared me.”
Yoongi pressed his lips into an apologetic line, “Sorry, didn’t mean to. I called you from the door, but you didn’t hear me.”
Jimin only nodded weakly.
Yoongi studied him for a moment. The younger looked tired, more than usual, and the way he avoided eye contact made something in Yoongi tighten. “Are you okay?” he asked finally.
Jimin turned to look at him with the same big, surprised eyes from before, “Hm?”
“I asked if you’re okay.” Yoongi crossed the room, now certain something was bothering him. He rested a hand on Jimin’s head, gently smoothing his hair back before leaning down to press a soft kiss to his forehead.
Jimin visibly relaxed under his touch, sour peach mellowing into something sweeter again. When Yoongi pulled back, the omega’s eyes were closed, and his mouth hung slightly open.
But then he opened them again, gaze dropping to his lap as he let out a long sigh. “Actually… um…”
He fidgeted with a loose thread on his sweater. “Yoongi, I—”
The words died in his throat. Frustration flickered across his face before he huffed sharply, “Fuck!”
He covered his face with both hands, shaking his head.
“What is it, Jimin-ah?” Yoongi murmured, rubbing his back in slow circles. “You know you can tell me anything.”
Jimin wasn’t one to normally struggle with his words, not with him at least; he was shy, but he was shy with strangers, not with Yoongi. So whatever this was, it had to matter.
“Um… can you bring me my heat bag from the bedside drawer?” Jimin asked suddenly.
Yoongi hesitated but nodded, confused by the abrupt shift, and went to fetch it.
Except he didn’t find it.
What he found instead was a blue plastic stick.
And something in him went very still.
For a moment, he just stared at it, brain refusing to fully catch up with what he was seeing. The single word that registered was Pregnant.
Without any other thought but the expected “what the fuck”, he walked back toward the bathroom, test still in hand.
The tub was full now, but Jimin was still sitting on the edge.
The moment he stepped inside, Jimin looked up.
“Jimin?” Yoongi managed. He would say more, but every thought became mush the second it materialised in his brain, so he just lifted the test slightly into view.
“Yoongi…” Jimin’s voice broke, and then he was crying, arms reaching out instinctively.
Yoongi crossed the room in an instant and pulled him into a tight embrace, one hand cradling the back of his head while the other rubbed soothing circles into his back, whispering soft reassurances until the sobs began to slow.
It took nearly 10 minutes, and Yoongi telling Jimin to get in the bath while he made tea for both of them, for his boyfriend to finally calm down enough to talk about the elephant in the room.
Yoongi knew that Jimin was panicking; he could see it in the way he picked at his skin while sitting in the tub and in how sour his peach scent had turned once more, so he decided to sit on the floor right next to him and gently stroke his back again.
“So…” he started, but then stopped. He didn’t know how to continue.
Asking outright would be stupid; he already knew the answer, and it would only earn him a blank stare from the younger. Yoongi wracked his brain for something to say, but luckily, Jimin beat him to it.
“It’s a belated Christmas surprise,” he mumbled.
Despite everything, Yoongi let out a short laugh. “It is.”
A pause.
“Apparently, I’m four weeks along,” Jimin added, pointing weakly at the counter where the test lay.
So that explained it. The beginning of the month. Jimin’s heat. Of course.
“What are we going to do?” Jimin asked quietly.
Yoongi shrugged slightly. “It’s your call, baby. It’s your body going through it.”
Jimin hummed but didn’t respond.
Yoongi was torn between the options, if Jimin decided to have an abortion they could always try again in the future, if they gave it up for adoption, maybe the pup would want to meet them in the future and Yoongi wasn’t sure he was prepared for something like that… and, to be honest, there was a part of him happy to know the possibility of him and Jimin becoming a family together existed. But a child wasn’t a toy; it wasn’t something that, if they regretted, they could return.
But none of that mattered more than Jimin’s choice.
“You said it’s my call,” Jimin said after a moment, “but I want your opinion too, Yoon. This is a two-way thing. You helped.”
Then, softer, “Also, the water’s getting cold. I want to get out.”
He stood, and Yoongi immediately reached for a towel, wrapping him up carefully before his gaze, unintentional and fleeting, dropped to Jimin’s still-flat stomach.
They moved to the bedroom together.
Yoongi sat on the bed while Jimin got dressed. Only when Jimin was finally under the covers did Yoongi speak again.
“I honestly don’t know, Jimin-ah. I kind of… I kind of want to keep it. I know it’s a bit soon, but um… you’re it for me, Jimin, you’re the love of my life, and if there’s anyone I want to have a family with, it’s you. It has to be you.” Yoongi said, scratching the back of his neck. He felt the heat rise to his cheeks as the words left his mouth, but he guessed that if there was a time to be honest, that was probably it.
Jimin didn’t answer at first. He bit his lip so hard Yoongi worried it might break skin, eyes glossy with tears.
For a moment, fear flickered through Yoongi’s chest.
But then Jimin let go of his lip and smiled through the tears.
“I love you so much, Min Yoongi,” he said, voice trembling. “You don’t even understand what you mean to me.”
He threw the covers off and climbed straight into Yoongi’s lap, burying his face against his neck. His scent flooded warm and overwhelming as he clung to him, and Yoongi held him just as tightly.
Soon, Jimin was leaving a trail of kisses, starting from his neck and up to his face. He left a kiss on every place he could reach, eyes, nose, cheeks, and finished with one right on the lips. Yoongi hummed into the kiss and turned it into soft pecks the moment Jimin began detaching from him.
“We’re having a pup, Yoon,” Jimin whispered, closing his eyes and pursing his lips to contain a smile.
Yoongi, on the other hand, laughed and held Jimin closer. He squished Jimin’s cheeks and spluttered kisses all around his face.
Yoongi smiled against his forehead. “We’re having a baby, baby.”
And yes, they were scared. And yes, there was still so much ahead of them.
But they would make it work.
They always did.
January 3rd - 5 weeks (1 month and 1 week for non-pregnant people)
Two minutes. Just two minutes and he would be able to go home.
Yoongi liked his job. Before he and Jimin moved in together, he would spend every single hour he could in the studio. But now that he shared a routine with Jimin, he always found himself anxiously counting down the minutes until he could leave without feeling irresponsible—especially now that his omega was expecting.
Just as he was shutting down his equipment, his phone rang.
He was sure it was Jimin calling to ask him to pick up whatever random craving had taken over his day, but to his surprise, his screen displayed an unknown number.
He had half the mind not to answer, as it was most likely publicity, or a scam, or both, and he wasn’t in the mood.
But it could also be work.
“Hello?” Yoongi answered, a little sharper than intended.
“Yes, hello. Is this Min Yoongi?” The voice on the other end sounded slightly out of breath, like the caller had been running.
“Yes, this is him. Who am I speaking to?” Yoongi asked, suspicion creeping in.
“Oh, sorry, my name is Sang, Baek Sang, and I’m the producer of a new movie that’s coming out soon.” The man spoke quickly, words tumbling over each other. “We’ve recently come across one of your songs, and we are interested in using it. It would fit perfectly in one of the scenes. I know this is a bit last-minute, the movie is supposed to come out in less than 4 months, but since the song is already finished, we thought it wouldn’t be a problem.”
Yoongi blinked once. Twice.
“…Is this a joke?” he asked flatly.
“Er… no, it is not.” Sang let out a nervous laugh. “I can send you an email with all the legal details if you don’t believe me. But Yoongi-ssi, your song is exactly what the director has been looking for. Your name will be on the credits, and you will, of course, be paid.”
“Could I ask how much?” Yoongi cringed internally the second the words left his mouth. He didn’t want to sound desperate. He absolutely was not desperate.
“…If everything goes as planned, we’re talking about ₩70,000,000 total,” Sang said casually. “We could send half upfront.”
Yoongi choked. “₩35,000,000 just for a song?”
Sang laughed like it was nothing. “It’s an urgent case. The director is set on it, so we have to make it work. So, do you accept?”
Yoongi scoffed under his breath, mind already spinning. A baby on the way, a life to prepare, a future to think about…
Yeah. He would’ve done it for a fraction of that.
“Yeah,” he said finally. “Sure. I’ll send you my details. Which song are we talking about?”
“People.”
That made him pause.
Of course, it was that one.
The one that had originally been meant for Jimin to sing. The one the company had turned down. The one he’d written with his omega in mind.
Something warm settled in his chest despite himself.
“…Okay,” Yoongi said softly, almost to himself. “We can sort the details tomorrow. I’ve already shut everything down. I was supposed to leave five minutes ago anyway. Thank you, Sang-ssi.”
He ended the call, already grabbing his coat.
Jimin was going to lose his mind.
At home, Yoongi found Jimin in the kitchen, humming as he cooked dinner while Holly circled his feet like a tiny, impatient shark.
Jimin turned when he heard the door, smiling instantly. He crossed the room and pressed a quick, sweet kiss to Yoongi’s lips before returning to the stove without a word.
“We’re having bulgogi tonight,” Jimin said casually.
Yoongi hesitated. He knew the younger would know something was going on the second he turned to look at Yoongi for more than a second.
He should tell him immediately.
“Nice,” Yoongi replied first, then added, quieter, “Um… Jiminie.” Yoongi started playing nervously with his fingers as he sat on one of the stools. He didn’t know why he was so nervous when this was actually good news, but he could feel the beating of his heart in his ears.
“Yes?” Jimin turned slightly, but didn’t fully face him yet, still focused on the pan. His attention sharpened immediately. Concern, subtle but present. Rotten peach filled the room.
“One of my songs is going to be in a movie,” Yoongi said quickly, like ripping off a bandage.
“What?” Jimin froze.
A spoon clattered loudly against the floor.
“My song, well, yours actually—People,” Yoongi continued, stepping closer now. “Someone called me just as I was leaving the studio and—”
He didn’t get to finish.
Jimin kissed him.
It was sudden, firm, and completely overwhelming.
Yoongi responded instantly, one hand moving to steady him, the other instinctively curling around his waist.
When they pulled apart, Jimin’s forehead rested against his.
“You deserve it,” Jimin said softly. “You work so hard, Yoonie. You deserve everything good that happens to you.”
Yoongi felt something tighten in his throat.
“Thank you, Jimin-ah,” he whispered. Then, softer, “You’re the perfect example of that.”
Jimin huffed a small laugh, blinking away the emotion in his eyes. “Now the bulgogi feels more special.”
He turned back to the stove like nothing had happened.
Yoongi stayed where he was for a moment longer, watching him.
Everything always felt more special with Jimin in it.
January 24th – 8 weeks (2 months for non-pregnant people)
Jimin had been shuffling nervously in the passenger seat the entire drive.
Yoongi, trying to soothe him, rested a hand on his thigh. The effect was immediate; Jimin stopped bouncing his leg, only to start toying with Yoongi’s fingers instead, turning them over and tracing absent patterns across his knuckles.
“It’s going to be fine, Jiminie,” Yoongi said gently, glancing at him before focusing back on the road.
“I know,” Jimin murmured, still stroking Yoongi’s hand where it lay on his thigh. “I’m just… nervous. It’s the first time we’re seeing our pup.”
Yoongi’s heart gave a small, stupid leap, and he couldn’t help the soft smile that followed.
It was their first appointment. Their first ultrasound since Jimin had told him. And because they hadn’t told anyone else yet, Jimin had no one to vent to except him. Yoongi knew there was really only one person Jimin should be leaning on for this: Seokjin, who had gone through pregnancy himself. But Jimin had a habit of convincing himself he was a burden. After five years together, Yoongi was still gently trying to undo that belief.
“I’m nervous too, baby,” Yoongi admitted in an attempt to ease Jimin’s nerves.
“What if they tell us something bad?” Jimin whispered, fingers tightening around his.
“Like what?” Yoongi asked carefully.
Jimin hesitated, “I don’t know… what if it was a false positive? What if there’s something wrong? What if—” He cut himself off with a sharp inhale, eyes fixed on the dashboard. “What if there’s no heartbeat?”
The air in the car shifted instantly. Sour peach filled the space, sharp with fear, and Yoongi felt his own scent turning uneasy in response.
“If anything happens, “Yoongi said gently, squeezing Jimin’s hand, “we’ll figure it out together. Step by step. But I’m sure everything’s going to be okay.
Jimin nodded faintly, but didn’t speak again.
As they parked in the hospital’s parking lot, Jimin began shifting again.
“You’re nervous again?” Yoongi asked, turning toward him.
“I never stopped being nervous,” Jimin replied immediately. Then, after a pause, “No, it’s not that, I just…” He trailed off, and Yoongi frowned. Was there something wrong? Was he feeling bad? Now it was Yoongi’s turn to panic.
He stopped again.
Yoongi’s stomach tightened. “What? Jimin-ah, what is it? Are you feeling pain? Something wrong?”
“I’m fine,” Jimin said quickly—and then, suddenly, he giggled.
Yoongi blinked. “What are you laughing at?”
“You,” Jimin said, still trying not to laugh. “You looked like you were about to pass out.”
“I was worried,” Yoongi muttered.
Jimin’s laughter softened into a sheepish smile. “I just got a craving, that’s all.”
Yoongi exhaled, relief loosening his chest. “You scared me.”
But the relief vanished instantly when Jimin let out a small sob.
Yoongi froze. “Baby—no, I didn’t mean—”
“I’m sorry,” Jimin cried, still refusing to look up from the floor mat.
Now panic replaced everything. “Jimin-ah, no, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“No!” Jimin shook his head, tears already spilling over. “I shouldn’t have laughed, and you had every right to be scared when I just stopped talking!”
Yoongi immediately leaned in, rubbing soothing circles on his back. “It’s okay. I just reacted too fast, that’s all.”
Jimin finally looked up, eyes red and glossy. “Will you get me kimchi jjigae after this?”
Something in Yoongi’s chest cracked at how small he sounded. Jimin looked a bit of a mess; his face was full of tear streaks, his eyes were red and a bit puffy, and he had to clean the snot off his nose with the back of his hand as he talked, but somehow, he still looked beautiful doing it.
“Of course,” Yoongi said gently. “Anything you want after the appointment.”
At the reception, Jimin gave his name while Yoongi stood slightly behind him, completely distracted by the sight of him: soft cheeks, body curving perfectly, the way he leaned forward slightly when he spoke.
The receptionist glances between them, then back at the screen, clearly amused.
“Third floor,” he said eventually. “They’ll call your number.”
“Thank you,” Jimin replied
Something shifted the moment they stepped away. Jimin’s smell turned slightly sour, but his smile remained intact.
“He was looking at you way too much,” Jimin said suddenly.
Yoongi frowned, “What?”
Wrong answer.
“Don’t play dumb, Min Yoongi,” Jimin snapped.
Yoongi stopped walking. “I’m not— what are you talking about?”
“He looked at you with pity,” Jimin said, voice tightening. “Is it that bad to be with me?”
Yoongi went still.
Before he could respond properly, the elevator dinged. Jimin stepped in first, arms crossed.
Yoongi hurried after him.
“Jimin, I don’t understand what you’re saying,” he tried again once the doors closed.
Jimin turned away from him completely.
“Why are you sighing?” He asked sharply. “Are you tired of me?”
Yoongi stared at him, stunned.
Then it clicked.
The hormones were messing with Jimin’s mood.
“Hey,” Yoongi said quietly, stepping closer. He wrapped his arms around Jimin from behind, pulling him into his chest.
Jimin stiffened, then melted.
“I’m not tired of you,” Yoongi murmured, pressing a kiss to his scent gland. “I could never be tired of you. You’re the love of my life.”
Jimin exhaled shakily. “I’m sorry… I don’t know what came over me.”
“I know,” Yoongi said, holding him a little tighter.
Jimin huffed, “But the way he looked at you, with those sultry eyes, he just… god, I wanted nothing more than to jump over the desk and make him swallow that keyboard.” Jimin tightened the grip he had on Yoongi’s hands.
Yoongi chuckled softly, “I didn’t even notice. I was too busy staring at your cheeks.”
Jimin blinked “What cheeks?”
“Your face,” Yoongi said innocently.
“Oh”
Then, leaning closer, Yoongi added with a quiet laugh, “Though I wouldn’t mind looking at the other ones, too. You… bent down on our bed… all naked… just for me to see.” Yoongi whispered in the crook of Jimin’s neck, leaving a kiss in between each request.
“Yoongi…” Jimin breathed, shivering.
His scent spiked into the small space they were sharing. Yoongi was about to answer when the elevator dinged.
Perfect timing.
“Come on, baby, let’s see what our bean looks like.” Yoongi took Jimin’s hand to tug him towards the waiting room.
Jimin was curled up to his side and nuzzled his jaw during the whole waiting time, whispering how much he loved him, and how he couldn’t wait to get home.
Yoongi couldn’t wait either.
It took 20 more minutes for them to finally be called, and whatever mood they had gotten in earlier was replaced with nerves.
Doctor Yun greeted them calmly and began explaining everything carefully. By the time she was finished, Yoongi’s hand had gone numb.
Soon after, Jimin was asked to lie down.
“This will be cold,” she warned as she applied gel.
Jimin flinched slightly. Yoongi squeezed his hand.
“Alright,” the doctor said, turning the screen towards them. “Let’s take a look.”
At first, it looked like static, the black screen filled with white lines, but then… then something appeared on it.
No bigger than a raspberry, nothing spectacular, but Yoongi felt every hair on his body stand.
Jimin sucked in a breath. “Oh, my god…”
Tears filled his eyes instantly. Yoongi couldn’t speak. Because suddenly, it wasn’t abstract anymore. It wasn’t fear or possibility. It was real. Their baby.
Jimin squeezed his hands tightly, and that broke whatever composure Yoongi had left. His vision blurred, and he let out a shaky laugh as tears spilt over.
It still didn’t fully feel real. Not yet, at least.
But he knew one thing with absolute certainty. He was going to love that tiny life more than anything in the world.
Almost as much as Jimin.
Almost.
February 19th – 12 weeks (3 months for non-pregnant people)
Five grocery bags.
Five.
All packed to the brim, all from different stores, and all filled with things Jimin had been craving over the past few days.
Yoongi considered himself lucky that his Alpha strength existed for moments exactly like this, because there was no way he would’ve been able to carry all of them at once without losing circulation in both arms.
Not that everything in those bags was going to get eaten anytime soon.
Some of it, Yoongi knew for a fact, would sit untouched in the pantry for weeks until Jimin suddenly remembered it existed and needed it immediately. Like the ridiculously specific butter cookies from a convenience store nearly an hour away that he had eaten one singular time when they were out on a date
By the time Yoongi made it to their front door, he was seriously questioning his life choices. Trying to punch in the code with five bags hanging off one hand nearly cost him his fingers, and when he finally got inside, his arms felt on fire.
He marched straight to the kitchen, fully intending to dump everything on the counter and pretend none of it existed for at least two minutes before putting it away.
What he didn’t expect, though, was Jimin bent over the sink with half a mango shoved into his mouth, juice dripping down his chin and hands. Yoongi froze.
Jimin slowly straightened, cheeks full, eyes wide like he’d just been caught stealing from the cookie jar.
He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Hi,” Jimin said timidly, still chewing.
“...Hello,” he answered carefully.
He resumed walking toward the counter, setting the bags down one by one, but his eyes never left his boyfriend.
Then something clicked.
“Is that my shirt?”
Jimin looked down at the oversized black shirt hanging off his shoulders. He pinched the fabric with two sticky fingers.
“This?” he asked innocently.
Yoongi grimaced at the mango juice now definitely staining the cotton.
Jimin shrugged, “Yeah, your scent seems to calm the pup down.” He rubbed absent circles over his stomach. “And I didn’t want mine getting dirty.”
“...So you decided to dirty one of mine?”
Jimin giggled. Yoongi wanted to be mad. He really did. But he was a weak, weak man when it came to Park Jimin, especially a giggly Park Jimin. So his scowl soon turned to a small smile that he tried hard to contain.
“Well,” Jimin reasoned, sucking the juice out of the mango like a vampire would to a human “yours are all dark, the stain doesn’t show as much.”
Yoongi narrowed his eyes. The logic was flawed, but he accepted it anyways because Jimin looked better in his clothes anyway.
“What are you even eating?” Yoongi asked, leaning against the counter. “Mango? I thought you didn’t like it.”
Jimin paused mid chew. “Huh? Oh, um, yeah, had a sudden craving for it, and apparently you had bought some, so… um. I just…” He lifted the half eaten fruit like that somehow explained everything.
Yoongi blinked, then nodded.
Right, preganancy. He’d read about this. Craving foods you usually hated.
“So you just…” Yoongi gestured vaguely toward the sink, the fruit, and the sticky disaster that was his clothes
Jimin raised a brow. “I what?”
“You just went completely feral?
Jimin gasped and threw the last mango slice at him. Yoongi barely ducked in time before turning away and sprinting out of reach while Jimin chased after him with sticky fingers.
“I’m telling Jin-hyung.” Jimin shouted from the kitchen.
Yoongi waved dismissively over his shoulder.
“Go ahead.”
Jimin narrowed his eyes.
“Just you wait.”
He smiled. He knew that in less than 20 minutes he was going to have an angry omega berating him over the phone.
It took forty minutes. Not twenty. But eventually, his phone rang.
Seokjin called the second Jimin hung up. The younger, now sitting across from him on the couch, smirked the second his ringtone started playing.
Yoongi just had the energy for an eye roll before answering.
“What is this I hear about you giving my Jiminie shit?” Seokjin’s voice boomed through the speaker.
Yoongi could faintly hear Namjoon in the background.
“Please watch your language, Taehyung is listening.”
Yoongi smirked.
“Last time I checked,” he drawled, glancing directly at Jimin, “he was my Jiminie.”
“Not when you’re harassing my sweet angel!” Seokjin snapped. “He’s an adult, Min Yoongi. He gets to eat whatever he wants, whenever he wants, and you should shut the fu—”
“Seokjin.”
“—Namjoon, hush, I’m on the phone. Just shut up, Yoongi.”
Yoongi snorted.
Seokjin, despite still sounding thoroughly offended on Jimin’s behalf, corrected himself almost immediately, clearly aware that his pup was probably somewhere nearby, listening to the entire conversation and soaking up every word like the little sponge he was.
At barely a year old, Taehyung had started growing more and more confident with his speech, and unfortunately for his parents, he had also discovered that repeating everything adults said was both fun and deeply entertaining.
Including the curse words.
Which, for someone like Seokjin, who swore like a sailor, had quickly become a very real problem.
Yoongi, on the other hand, found it both adorable and hilarious. He adored his godson.
“Yes, yes. I’m a terrible Alpha. I’ll spend the rest of my life making up for this unforgivable crime.”
Across from him, Jimin squinted suspiciously, pushing his tongue against his cheek.
Yoongi immediately regretted noticing.
“Whatever,” Seokjin huffed. “My Taehyungie needs me. Go make it up to him, you disrespectful bas—”
Click.
Yoongi hung up.
“He’s going to kill you for that,” Jimin said, climbing straight into his lap.
Yoongi’s arms automatically circled his waist.
“Not once we tell him there’s a pup on the way,” Yoongi murmured, nosing softly at Jimin’s scent gland. “Wouldn’t want to leave his sweet little angel without a mate.”
“Mate?” Jimin echoed, a playful smile tugging at his lips as he tilted his head, giving Yoongi easier access while deliberately rubbing their scents together. “That’s funny. I don’t remember having a mark on my neck.”
Yoongi hummed, lips brushing over the warm skin there before pressing a lingering kiss right over the source of that sweet peach scent he’d fallen in love with years ago. One he still wasn’t sure he’d ever get enough of.
“Soon, my love,” he whispered against his skin. “Very soon.”
Jimin shivered in his arms, his smile softening into something warmer, more intimate.
“I can’t wait.”
March 9th – 14 weeks (4 months and one week for non-pregnant people)
As they hit the fourth-month mark, right on his birthday, Yoongi noticed that Jimin’s stomach was finally beginning to show.
Barely.
Just enough that if you didn’t know him, you probably wouldn’t notice anything at all. But Yoongi knew every inch of Park Jimin. So the small curve that definitely hadn’t been there before stood out immediately.
And Yoongi couldn’t lie, something primal awoke in him the second he saw it.
Jimin always complained that Yoongi seriously needed to work through whatever weird pregnancy kink he’d apparently developed.
Yoongi always denied it. Every single time.
“I’m not turned on,” he had insisted with a straight face. A bold faced lie, but Jimin didn’t need to know that. “I’m just… endeared. Happy. In love.”
Jimin always rolled his eyes at that. But he would also always kiss Yoongi after, so he guessed the younger just got shy.
What Jimin did openly complain about, however, was Yoongi’s newfound inability to keep his hands to himself.
If Jimin was cooking, Yoongi would appear behind him without warning, arms wrapping around his waist, hands sneaking under his shirt to rest on the warm little bump.
If they were in bed, Yoongi would shamelessly beg Jimin to be the big spoon just so he could curl up against him and absentmindedly stroke his stomach until one, or both, of them fell asleep.
Jimin would always grumble about wanting to be the big spoon for once, but he never got very far into his complaints before Yoongi’s fingers on his skin lulled him right to sleep.
And if they were on the couch…
Well.
Then Yoongi was usually sprawled across Jimin’s lap, one hand resting possessively over the bump while he pressed lazy kisses through the younger’s shirt, smiling every time Jimin laughed and pushed at his hair.
He didn’t really know where it had come from.
Maybe it was instinct.
Maybe his Alpha needed the constant reassurance that both his omega and his pup were safe.
Or maybe he was just hopelessly in love.
Probably all three.
So naturally, his birthday wasn’t any different.
After the mandatory celebrations, the dinner date, and the gathering with friends—where Jimin had been forced into the baggiest clothes they owned to hide the bump—they eventually ended up back home, curled together on the couch.
Or rather, Jimin was curled on the couch with Yoongi was half draped over him, face buried against his stomach, nuzzling contentedly like some oversized cat.
Jimin carded his fingers through Yoongi’s hair, pushing dark strands away from his eyes.
“Are you ever going to stop touching my bump?” he asked, amusement clear in his voice.
“Yes,” Yoongi replied without hesitation.
Jimin blinked.
“Oh?”
Yoongi pressed another kiss against the tiny swell before answering.
“When the baby’s here.”
Jimin giggled softly.
If birthdays were measured by gifts, Yoongi was fairly certain he’d won this year.
Instead of commenting further, Jimin changed the subject.
“The movie comes out this week.”
Yoongi stilled for half a second before humming.
The movie. The one featuring People. The one that had somehow changed both their finances and, apparently, Jimin’s shopping habits.
Because ever since the payment had come through—and Yoongi’s workload had increased right along with his salary—Jimin had become, quite frankly, terrifying.
Baby clothes. Baby toys. Baby furniture. Baby blankets. Baby bottles. Baby things they absolutely did not need yet.
They didn’t even know the sex of the baby, not that either of them cared much, but that hadn’t stopped Jimin from buying half the internet.
Honestly, Yoongi wasn’t worried about the baby.
He was worried about Jimin discovering online shopping.
“Yeah…” Yoongi murmured after a moment, fingers absentmindedly tracing circles over the bump.
Then, quieter, “Do you think we should tell them?”
Jimin sighed softly.
“It’s been four months, Yoon.”
He shifted a little, trying to get more comfortable, and Yoongi immediately moved with him, helping him stretch out properly before curling himself around him again like he belonged there.
Which, really, he did.
“Then it’s decided,” Yoongi said, smiling as he leaned in to kiss Jimin’s cheek.
“We tell them on Saturday.”
Jimin smiled back, eyes soft as he turned his attention back to the television.
Yoongi, meanwhile, couldn’t help grinning to himself.
Because if there was one thing he knew for sure…
Their friends were absolutely going to lose their minds.
March 11th – 15 weeks (4 months and 3 weeks for non-pregnant people)
Yoongi would be lying if he said he wasn’t nervous.
Waiting for their friends to arrive had been torture, and even though Jimin had tried during the entire day to distract him by clinging to his side and sending him on pointless errands, Yoongi had still spent every second worrying about how everyone would react. The last thing he wanted was for someone to say the wrong thing and ruin this for Jimin.
Not that he didn’t trust the others to be happy for them. But still… you never knew.
At the same time, excitement buzzed under his skin, mixing with the nerves until he could barely tell one from the other. He’d only felt like this once before, and it was right before asking Jimin out.
“Do you have the baskets?”
Yoongi looked up as Jimin walked out of the kitchen, balancing a tray full of snacks in his hands.
He nodded and immediately took it from him.
“I can carry some snacks, Yoon,” Jimin deadpanned. “I’m pregnant, not dying.”
Yoongi scrunched his nose.
“The doctor said no overexertion.”
They both knew it was ridiculous. The tray weighed next to nothing. But ever since their last appointment—despite Doctor Yun repeatedly telling them everything was progressing perfectly and Jimin was healthier than ever—Yoongi’s Alpha brain had latched onto the “avoid big efforts” part and refused to let it go.
Jimin rolled his eyes.
“I’m pretty sure she meant lifting furniture, not crackers, but okay, honey.”
Yoongi sighed, secretly relieved Jimin was letting him have this one.
“Did you put Holly in his shirt?”
Jimin glanced toward their bedroom door.
“Yeah,” Yoongi laughed. “He tried to bite me while I dressed him, but I survived.”
Jimin grinned.
He’d spent the entire week obsessing over this reveal, scrolling through ideas online until he’d finally decided on a “Big Brother” shirt for Holly, plus personalized gift baskets with a card hidden underneath.
Ten minutes later, the first knock came, and as expected, the Kims were first.
Namjoon stood in the doorway with baby Taehyung perched happily in his arms while Seokjin beamed beside him.
The only punctual people in their friend group.
Including Yoongi and Jimin.
“Hi, hyungs,” Jimin greeted with an easy smile, carefully dodging Jin’s tighter hug so his bump stayed hidden beneath one of Yoongi’s oversized shirts. Jimin claimed he wore them because they hid his stomach.
Yoongi knew for a fact Jimin had been stealing his clothes long before pregnancy.
“Hi, my sweet child,” Jin cooed, pinching Jimin’s cheek. “Hoseok’s late, right?”
“He texted. Two minutes away,” Yoongi said, stepping forward to steal Taehyung from Namjoon’s arms.
“Hi, Taetae.”
The toddler squealed, tiny hands immediately squishing Yoongi’s cheeks, “Yoonie-hyung.”
And then he planted a very wet, very slobbery kiss somewhere near Yoongi’s nose.
Honestly, it was more mouth-to-face than kiss, but Yoongi loved it either way.
Right on cue, the doorbell rang again.
Hoseok stood outside carrying enough snacks and alcohol to host a wedding.
He stared at them. Then scoffed when nobody made a move.
“Oh, wow. Don’t all rush to help me.”
Jimin laughed.
“Sorry, hyung.”
As he reached for one of the bags, Yoongi visibly tensed.
Jimin caught it immediately. With one tiny glance, one only Yoongi would understand, he told him don’t you dare. Yoongi stared stubbornly at the floor. If he didn’t see it, it wasn’t happening. That was his rebellion.
Yoongi set the squirming pup back on the floor, watching with fond amusement as Taehyung toddled (waddled, more like) straight into the apartment on unsteady little legs. Using the distraction, he slipped after Jimin into the kitchen, lowering his voice the second they were out of earshot.
“Give me that bag.”
Jimin didn’t even look at him as he set it on the counter and reached for a stack of bowls. “Yoongi, I’m fine. It’s snacks, not bricks. Hobi-hyung’s carrying the one that actually weighs something.”
“But—”
“No.” Jimin finally turned, pointing a warning finger at him before he could finish. “Go check on Holly. I’ll plate everything, and I’ll bring it to the living room.” Jimin shot him a look. “Myself.”
Yoongi opened his mouth to argue again, then thought better of it. Jimin already warned him. Keep pushing, and you’ll regret it.
With a long-suffering sigh, he raised his hands in surrender.
“Fine.”
He left the kitchen, making sure none of their guests were paying enough attention to follow him down the hallway. The last thing he needed was someone stumbling into their bedroom and finding either Holly in his tiny shirt or the carefully prepared baskets.
When he quietly pushed the bedroom door open, Holly was sprawled across their bed in a boneless little heap, paws twitching in his sleep. The puppy didn’t even stir.
Yoongi smiled despite himself.
“Traitor,” he murmured fondly.
Satisfied that their accomplice was still asleep, he slipped back into the living room. Only to find everyone already settled in, the only seat left was beside Jimin.
“We saved you a spot.” Seokjin announced smugly, “Right next to Jimin, so you wouldn’t get whiny.”
Yoongi tried to glare at him.
Keyword: tried.
Because Jin only grinned and cuddled deeper into Namjoon’s side.
Still, Yoongi was grateful. Not because he got whiny—He absolutely did not. But because it meant he could keep one hand resting on Jimin’s stomach for the entire movie without anyone thinking twice about it.
Their friends already thought they were disgustingly in love, even after five years.
The movie itself was good. Really good. The producers had been right when they told Yoongi People was the perfect fit.
Hearing his song in a movie felt surreal to some extent. Yoongi knew it was his—he had written it, produced it, and asked Jimin to sing it himself—yet somehow, hearing the melody echo through the TV speakers felt strangely unfamiliar, like it belonged to someone else entirely.
The second the song started, his friends erupted into loud cheers, but beside him, Jimin only smiled softly and rested his hand over the one Yoongi had on his stomach, giving it a gentle squeeze. A quiet reminder that Jimin had been there for every step of it, watching Yoongi’s dreams slowly become reality, and also a reminder that, now, it wasn’t only Jimin who was there to experience the growth of Yoongi’s career.
As soon as the credits rolled, the congratulations came flooding in.
“Oh my god, hyung!” Hoseok exclaimed from his spot on the floor, twisting around so fast he nearly toppled over as he grabbed Yoongi’s knee. “You’re so cool!” His heart-shaped smile stretched impossibly wide.
Yoongi huffed out a laugh. “Thanks, Hoba.”
“Seriously, though,” Seokjin said a moment later, still staring at the darkened TV screen in disbelief, “I never would’ve imagined this.”
Yoongi frowned immediately. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“No, not like that,” Jin corrected quickly, waving his hands around. “I always knew you’d make it big. I meant…” He glanced around the room before looking back at Yoongi with a softer smile. “Sitting here and watching a movie with your song in it. It feels surreal.”
And yeah. Yoongi got it.
Because it was surreal.
Even now, after all the years of producing, composing, and fighting to make a name for himself, hearing his music woven into a film still felt strange. Bigger than him somehow.
“It’s only the beginning for you, hyung,” Namjoon added warmly. “And the movie was actually really good too.”
Yoongi nodded, but his attention drifted to Jimin beside him almost instantly.
Jimin was already looking at him.
His hand still rested over Yoongi’s where it sat on his stomach, fingers curled loosely around his. He smiled. That soft, fond smile reserved only for Yoongi, and tilted his head slightly.
“You know?” he asked quietly.
Yoongi smiled back without hesitation.
“I know.”
Because he did.
They had never needed many words between them. Not for things that mattered. Their bond existed in lingering touches, quiet glances, and shared silences. In every moment spent side by side, loving each other as naturally as breathing.
“Oh my god,” Hoseok groaned dramatically from the floor. “They’re doing the gross soulmate thing again.”
“Shut up,” Namjoon muttered, shoving his shoulder. “Don’t ruin the moment.”
The moment broke on its own anyway when Taehyung started fussing from Namjoon’s lap, reaching both grabby little hands toward Jimin with an impatient whine. Jimin immediately gathered the toddler into his arms, settling him comfortably against his chest.
And just like that, Yoongi knew it was time.
The movie was over. There was no putting it off anymore.
A nervous heat crawled up the back of his neck as he glanced at Jimin. The younger met his eyes instantly, understanding written plainly across his face, and gave him a small nod.
Yoongi stood.
“I’m gonna let Holly out,” he said casually. “Be right back.”
Hoseok blinked. “Wait, Holly’s here?” He looked around the apartment in confusion. “Why’d you lock him up?”
“So the movie wouldn’t scare him,” Jimin answered smoothly before Yoongi could. “He would’ve barked the whole time. Plus, there’s food everywhere and he gets hyper.”
The lie came so naturally Yoongi almost admired it. Holly was one of the calmest dogs alive and had slept through thunderstorms before, but none of their friends questioned it for even a second.
Which gave Yoongi the perfect chance to slip down the hallway unnoticed.
The moment he opened the bedroom door, Holly’s head popped up from the bed. His tail immediately started wagging so hard his entire body moved with it.
Yoongi physically cooed.
“Come here, baby,” he murmured, dropping onto the mattress beside him.
Holly scrambled into his lap happily, licking at his chin while Yoongi squished his little face between his hands.
“It’s time to tell everyone you’re gonna be a big brother.”
Holly yipped excitedly, tail somehow wagging even faster.
The second Yoongi let go of him, the puppy bolted from the room toward the sound of voices and laughter coming from the living room.
Yoongi expected screaming.
At least one gasp.
Instead, all he heard were delighted baby voices greeting the dog.
Rolling his eyes fondly, he grabbed the baskets and headed back out.
Sure enough, when he stepped into the living room, Holly was curled up contentedly beside Taehyung on the couch while the toddler petted him with absolute devotion. Not a single person had noticed the tiny big brother shirt stretched across the puppy’s back.
Yoongi moved beside Jimin again and leaned down to whisper in his ear.
“They still haven’t noticed?”
Jimin bit back a laugh behind his hand. “I thought Namjoon-hyung would catch it at least,” he whispered back. “But he was too busy making baby noises at Holly.”
Yoongi snorted softly.
Idiots. All of them.
“Um…” Jimin started suddenly, drawing everyone’s attention back toward them. “We actually have something for you guys.”
He gestured awkwardly toward the baskets in Yoongi’s hands.
“We made these little gift baskets to thank you for coming and, uh…” Jimin trailed off, suddenly looking shy. “Yeah.”
Yoongi smiled to himself as he handed them out carefully. Jimin had spent days putting them together, making each one personal.
“Oh?” Jin tilted his head curiously as he accepted his.
“This is so sweet,” Namjoon said immediately, dimples deepening.
Taehyung attacked his basket first, pulling everything out with excited little noises while his parents desperately tried to stop him from throwing tissue paper everywhere.
But Hoseok found the card first.
And, true to form, his reaction was anything but subtle.
“ARE YOU SERIOUS?!” he screeched.
Everyone jumped violently.
Even Holly barked in alarm from Hoseok’s lap.
“What?!” Namjoon yelped. “What happened?!”
“The card!” Hoseok shouted frantically, pointing like a man possessed. “Look at the fucking card!”
Both Seokjin and Namjoon immediately shot him offended looks at the language in front of Taehyung, but still hurried to grab the card anyway.
Yoongi found himself frozen in place beside Jimin, heart hammering hard enough to hurt.
Then he watched realisation dawn across their friends’ faces one by one.
The ultrasound photo, the tiny words beneath it.
Baby Min coming September 202x.
And below that, the invitation to the gender reveal party.
Namjoon’s jaw dropped. Seokjin slapped a hand over his mouth. Hoseok screamed again.
Yoongi burst into laughter before he could stop himself.
The next thing he knew, Hoseok was throwing himself at both of them while Namjoon joined seconds later, nearly crushing Yoongi with the force of the hug. Seokjin followed right after, all long limbs and loud emotions, and suddenly they were buried beneath a chaotic pile of love and yelling and laughter.
And honestly?
Yoongi loved every second of it.
Once everyone calmed down enough to breathe again, the questions started immediately.
“How long have you known?”
“Oh my god, wait—how far along are you?”
“Why didn’t you tell us sooner?!”
Laughing breathlessly, Jimin finally smoothed his oversized shirt over the small swell of his stomach.
The room exploded.
Taehyung stared at the bump with huge sparkling eyes before looking up at Jimin carefully.
“Touch?” he asked in the tiniest voice imaginable.
Jimin melted instantly.
“Of course, baby.”
Taehyung placed both tiny hands against the bump with complete seriousness, as if he were handling something precious. The soft smile that spread across his face hit Yoongi so hard in the chest he had to blink back sudden tears.
After that, everyone wanted a turn.
And somewhere between Seokjin swearing he’d help Jimin through every stage of pregnancy and threatening to show up with a sledgehammer and shovel if Yoongi ever made fun of him for “eating like a feral raccoon” again, Yoongi realised how stupid his fears had been.
These people loved them.
Loved both of them.
There had never really been anything to worry about.
Later that night, as they got ready for bed, Yoongi glanced over at Jimin while pulling his shirt off.
“How did none of them notice Holly’s shirt?”
Jimin grinned sleepily. “Because he’s cute.”
“Yeah,” Yoongi said, walking over to wrap his arms around him. “Just like you. That’s probably why nobody noticed your bump either.”
Jimin smacked his chest lightly.
“You’re such a sap.”
“Only for you.”
That earned him another kiss, slow and sweet this time.
Then Jimin switched off the bedside lamp, curled back into Yoongi’s arms, and tucked himself against his chest like he belonged there.
Maybe he did.
“I love you,” Jimin whispered softly into the dark.
The last thing Yoongi felt before sleep claimed him was the warmth of Jimin pressed against him and the steady thump of two heartbeats beneath his hands.
April 4th – 18 weeks (5 months for non-pregnant people)
Yoongi heard the bathroom door slam shut from down the hallway and glanced away from the TV toward the corridor leading to their bedroom. A second later came the sound of the faucet running, followed by what was probably Jimin muttering curses under his breath for the third bathroom trip that hour.
Not even ten seconds later, Jimin reappeared.
“I’m so tired of having to pee every forty minutes,” he groaned dramatically as he shuffled back toward the couch. “Does this baby think my bladder is a fucking chew toy?”
Before he could fully throw himself onto the cushions, Yoongi caught him automatically, easing him down much more carefully than Jimin had intended.
“You know I can still sit down by myself, right?”
“Hm.” Yoongi ignored that entirely, already slipping his hands over the curve of Jimin’s stomach. “It’s normal, baby. One of the pregnancy books said it happens because the baby’s pressing against your bladder.” He rubbed soothing circles over the bump. “Our pup just needs more room to grow. You’re doing a really good job taking care of them.”
Jimin stared at him for a second before his mouth twitched upward.
“You’re such a sweet talker, Min Yoongi,” he mumbled, clearly trying, and failing, not to smile. “It’s still horrible, though.”
Yoongi laughed softly.
“But,” Jimin added, shifting closer until he could nuzzle against Yoongi’s jaw, “that was cute. Thank you for trying to make me feel better.”
The warmth blooming in Yoongi’s chest at those words was immediate. He pressed a gentle kiss to Jimin’s scent gland, breathing in the familiar peach scent that always settled something deep inside him.
“You’re welcome, baby.”
He tightened his arms around Jimin instinctively, pulling him closer against his chest.
A beat passed.
“Yoonie?”
“Hm?”
“Can you let go of me for a second?”
Yoongi immediately loosened his grip, concern flashing across his face. “Why? Did I hurt you?”
“No,” Jimin said, already trying not to laugh. “You just squeezed me hard enough that now I have to pee again.”
April 23rd – 21 weeks (6 months for non-pregnant people)
The first suspicious noise made Yoongi pause mid-dish.
He stood there for a second, soapy plate still in his hands, listening carefully toward the bedroom down the hall where Jimin had been reorganising their closet for the past hour.
Or, more accurately, throwing half their wardrobe into piles while declaring they “didn’t need any of this shit anymore.”
Yoongi had offered to help, obviously. But Jimin had immediately kicked him out.
“It’s therapeutic,” he’d insisted, shooing him toward the kitchen with both hands. “A moment of peace in our constant chaos.”
So Yoongi had let him have his “peace” while he washed the breakfast dishes.
But now every instinct inside him sharpened immediately.
He couldn’t smell distress. No fear, no pain, nothing sour or alarming through the bond. Still, he stayed frozen for another few seconds, listening.
Silence.
Eventually, he relaxed enough to return to the sink.
Then—
“YOONGI!”
The plate nearly slipped from his hands.
Yoongi abandoned the dishes instantly and bolted down the hallway, panic rising so fast it made his chest tight. He found Jimin sitting cross-legged in the middle of the bedroom floor, surrounded by mountains of clothes.
Completely unharmed.
“What happened?” Yoongi asked breathlessly, eyes darting around the room for danger anyway. “Are you okay?”
Jimin looked up at him with wide, excited eyes.
“I’m fine!” he said quickly, releasing a wave of sweet peach scent that immediately soothed Yoongi’s nerves. “Yoonie—”
His smile somehow widened impossibly further.
“The baby kicked.”
Yoongi froze. For a second, he genuinely forgot how to breathe.
“What?”
“The pup kicked,” Jimin repeated, voice softer this time, full of awe. One of his hands rested protectively over the swell of his stomach. “I felt it.”
Yoongi stared at him, stunned.
Then, slowly, as if he were handling something sacred, he dropped to his knees in front of Jimin.
His hands trembled slightly as he placed them over the bump. The second he did, something nudged against his palm.
Yoongi gasped.
Every hair on his body stood on end.
The kick wasn’t strong, barely more than a tiny flutter, really, but it hit him with enough force to steal the air from his lungs entirely.
His baby.
Their baby.
Real.
Alive.
Moving.
Another kick landed beneath his hand, and Yoongi looked up so fast it almost hurt.
“He kicked again,” he whispered, voice cracking around the words.
Jimin laughed softly, eyes shining.
“I think they like your voice. They moved when you spoke.”
“Well,” Yoongi sniffed dramatically, blinking suspiciously fast, “they better.”
That earned him a fond eye roll.
Carefully, Yoongi shifted lower until his face rested against Jimin’s stomach. “Hi, baby,” he murmured quietly. “I’m your Appa.”
Another tiny movement answered him instantly.
Yoongi felt tears sting behind his eyes.
“I can’t wait to meet you,” he continued softly. “And neither can your Daddy. You’re already so loved, you know that?” He rubbed gentle circles over the bump with one hand. “You’ve got uncles waiting for you already. Taehyungie’s excited to have someone to play with too.”
Jimin’s fingers slipped into his hair, combing through it gently while Yoongi kept talking.
“So come safely, okay?” he mumbled against the bump. “Actually, no—stay in there a little longer. Fully cook first. Then you can come out.”
Jimin burst into giggles above him.
Yoongi smiled helplessly at the sound.
“I love you so much already,” he whispered. “Both of you.” He pressed one lingering kiss against the bump. “Best Christmas surprise I’ve ever gotten.”
The room fell quiet for a moment after that, soft and warm and full of something Yoongi couldn’t even begin to describe.
Then Jimin spoke.
“I love you too, Yoonie.”
Yoongi looked up immediately.
Jimin’s expression had gone impossibly tender.
“And our pup loves you too,” he murmured, guiding one of Yoongi’s hands up to rest over his chest, right above his heart. “I can feel it.”
Yoongi smiled so softly it almost hurt. Then he leaned forward and kissed Jimin slowly, carefully, his hand never leaving the steady heartbeat beneath his palm.
May 2nd – 22 weeks (6 months for non-pregnant people)
The day of the gender reveal party arrived much faster than either Yoongi or Jimin had expected. Even though Jimin insisted on organizing every last detail himself, he’d been so exhausted lately that Yoongi had practically forced him into bed for a nap the afternoon of the party.
“I’ll take care of everything, Jimin-ah. Don’t worry.” Yoongi pressed a kiss to his boyfriend’s forehead.
“Remember to call Seokjinnie and remind him to pick up the cake from the bakery near his street. And tell Hobi-hyung the balloons I wanted are back in stock. He said he’d go get them so I wouldn’t have to drive there myself.” Jimin rambled from beneath the blankets.
“I know, baby. I’ve been sitting next to you for every single phone call.” Yoongi reminded him gently, easing him further down onto the mattress. “I’ll handle everything. You just sleep, and I’ll wake you when it’s time to get ready. You have to look beautiful in the pictures.” He brushed Jimin’s hair away from his face, smoothing out the crease between his brows.
“I always look beautiful,” Jimin mumbled with a pout as he snuggled deeper beneath the thin blanket Yoongi had draped over him.
“You always do, my love,” Yoongi chuckled softly. “But you should also look awake.”
Jimin only huffed in response, and Yoongi took it as his cue to leave before the younger found another excuse to get out of bed. The party would start in less than four hours, and there was still so much left to do.
The moment he closed the bedroom door behind him, Yoongi headed for the kitchen, grabbing his phone off the counter to call everyone Jimin had mentioned.
“Jin-hyung,” Yoongi greeted once the omega finally picked up.
“Yes, Yoongi, I already have the cake,” Seokjin replied instead of greeting him back. “Did you finally manage to get Jimin to sleep?” he asked, laughing lightly when Yoongi scoffed.
“I had to hide his phone and literally carry him to bed, but yes. He was way too tired to keep running around doing everything himself. Though right before passing out, he still reminded me of every single thing I needed to do.”
Seokjin laughed louder at that. “Yeah, the second you called, I knew this had Jimin written all over it. Anyway, I’m already on my way. Namjoon-ah will come a bit later with the rest of the stuff and Taehyungie. I heard Seokie’s bringing the balloons?”
“Yeah— well, I still have to confirm with him. They weren’t in stock when Jimin first wanted them, but he told me today they finally restocked.” Yoongi reached for one of the cupcakes cooling on the counter, idly spinning it between his fingers. The frosting was purple; Jimin had refused the typical pink-and-blue gender reveal theme and instead decided to combine both colours into one.
“Alright then, I’ll see you soon,” Jin said.
Yoongi hummed in agreement, said goodbye, and immediately dialled Hoseok’s number.
“Hello, hello, hyung!” Hoseok chirped the second he answered, making Yoongi smile instinctively.
“Hey, Seok-ah. About the balloons—”
“Already got them!” Hoseok interrupted proudly. “I asked the store to call me the second they restocked because I knew Jimin wanted those exact ones. I’m actually on my way right now to pick up the other two Kims and the food.”
Yoongi blinked in surprise. For a moment, he was left speechless. He knew he could count on their friends, but he hadn’t realised just how much they cared. Somehow, everything had already been handled. All that was left now was putting it all together inside the apartment.
“Hyung?” Hoseok asked after a beat, uncertainty creeping into his voice.
“Ah— yeah, sorry. I spaced out for a second.” Yoongi cleared his throat. “Well, if everything’s covered already, then I guess all that’s left is waiting for you to get here. Jin-hyung’s already on his way.”
Hoseok hummed happily. “See you soon!”
Yoongi spent the next hour cleaning up around the apartment and putting up the decorations they already had. He arranged the little gift bags neatly on the coffee table and hung up the giant banner Seokjin had insisted they needed “because his godchild deserved the best gender reveal party possible,” despite the fact the baby obviously wouldn’t remember any of it. Still, Yoongi had to admit the banner was cute. Baby Min Coming Soon stretched across the fabric in big letters, surrounded by colorful handprints from both their families.
He had just started pouring chips into bowls when the front door opened.
Yoongi immediately knew who it was. Only three other people besides him and Jimin had keys to the apartment, and only one of them somehow managed to make taking off shoes sound like construction work.
“I’m in the kitchen, Jin-hyung!” he called out.
“Coming!” Seokjin shouted back. A second later, he appeared in the doorway carrying the cake and several shopping bags. “How did you know it was me?”
“Because you somehow make taking your shoes off sound violent,” Yoongi deadpanned, returning to the chips.
“Fair enough.” Jin laughed. “Jimin’s still asleep?”
“It’s only been twenty minutes since we talked, so hopefully yes,” Yoongi replied. “Otherwise, he’d already be out here trying to organise everything himself, even though he shouldn’t be doing half of it.”
“Good. Let him rest.” Jin nodded approvingly, lips pursed.
Yoongi smiled softly. Seokjin had been one of their biggest supports since the pregnancy announcement, especially for Jimin. Having someone who understood what the omega was going through had eased so many of Jimin’s fears.
Twenty minutes later, Hoseok arrived with Namjoon and Taehyung in tow. Hoseok’s car was overflowing with gifts, food trays, and the balloons Jimin had insisted on having. It took them nearly another hour to finish decorating the apartment, but they managed to complete everything just before Jimin finally woke up.
The omega shuffled into the living room wrapped entirely in the blanket Yoongi had tucked around him earlier, rubbing sleep from his eyes while his peach-colored hair stuck up in every direction. Yoongi physically had to stop himself from cooing at the sight. Even with dried drool at the corner of his mouth, Jimin somehow still looked devastatingly beautiful.
“Did you sleep well, baby?” Yoongi asked as he walked over, tugging the blanket more securely around him.
The only thing protruding from beneath it was the gentle swell of Jimin’s stomach, and Yoongi simply wasn’t strong enough to resist placing a hand there.
“Yeah,” Jimin mumbled softly before wrapping his arms around Yoongi’s neck and immediately nuzzling into his scent gland the moment they touched.
Fresh mint mixed with sweet peach, filling the living room with a scent that felt warm and summery all at once. It was only when Taehyung loudly demanded a hug too that Yoongi remembered they weren’t alone.
Jimin laughed and reached for the toddler immediately, lifting him with ease despite Yoongi’s twitching urge to take the extra weight away from him. Taehyung melted happily into Jimin’s arms, and Yoongi didn’t have the heart to interrupt. Instead, he gently guided Jimin toward the couch so he could sit down while holding the little boy.
“He smells so sweet,” Jimin commented, pressing his nose into Taehyung’s hair.
“He really does,” Yoongi agreed. Even if Taehyung’s scent wouldn’t fully develop until adulthood, there was already a faint strawberry sweetness mixed with the warm milky smell unique to pups.
“I’m telling you, he’s going to be an omega,” Seokjin said proudly. “That strawberry scent has to mean something.”
“Or maybe he just smells like jam because you feed him too much sugar,” Namjoon muttered.
Seokjin ignored him entirely. “Honestly, I wouldn’t mind if he stayed this tiny forever.”
He kissed the tip of Taehyung’s nose, making the toddler squeal with laughter.
The second Taehyung reached for his omega father again, Yoongi took the chance to help Jimin up and usher him toward the bedroom so he could properly get ready before the party started. Jimin practically purred beneath Yoongi’s attention as the Alpha brushed through his soft peach hair and helped him change clothes.
“Are you ready to find out if we’re having a Jungkook or a Sooyun?” Yoongi asked, referring to the names they’d chosen.
Jimin smiled softly and nodded. “As long as the baby’s healthy, I don’t care about anything else.”
Yoongi agreed immediately. Their pup was going to be loved endlessly no matter what.
By the time all the guests arrived, the apartment was buzzing with noise. Family members crowded around Jimin nonstop, showering him with congratulations, affection, and far too many gifts. Yoongi genuinely didn’t know where they were supposed to put the enormous stroller his mother had bought, or the mountain of baby clothes every aunt seemed determined to contribute to.
The baby was going to go through five outfits a day at this rate.
“Can I have some?” Jimin asked suddenly, tugging lightly on Yoongi’s sleeve.
They had finally managed to sit down after hours of socialising, Jimin curled into the chair while Yoongi perched on the armrest beside him. Yoongi glanced down at the cupcake in his hand, the first one he’d successfully claimed for himself all evening without Taehyung or another guest stealing bites from it.
Jimin stared up at him with wide eyes and a pout.
And Yoongi wasn’t heartless.
Without hesitation, he lowered the cupcake so Jimin could take a bite, already preparing himself to get another one afterwards, because “some” obviously meant "most" whenever Jimin asked for food.
“It’s time for the reveal,” Seokjin interrupted before Yoongi could escape toward the dessert table.
Yoongi sighed dramatically.
“What?” Jin asked suspiciously.
“Nothing,” Yoongi muttered. “Let’s go.”
Back in the living room, the cake sat waiting on the table. Their reveal wasn’t anything extravagant—just a simple cake with colored filling inside—but there was only so much chaos you could responsibly create inside an apartment building without risking eviction.
Still, as Yoongi looked at Jimin already standing beside the cake with bright eyes and flushed cheeks, he couldn’t imagine needing anything more elaborate than this.
He was already the luckiest man alive.
“Okay. Okay. God, why am I so nervous?” Jimin laughed breathlessly, rubbing his palms against his thighs before instinctively resting them over his bump.
Yoongi’s eyes followed the movement automatically.
“Yoongi, you cut it,” Jimin said, pulling him out of his trance.
The Alpha nodded and picked up the knife beside the cake. His hands trembled slightly as he sliced through the frosting.
And suddenly all he could think about was the future.
About tiny hands gripping his fingers. About sleepless nights. About Holly barking at a crawling baby. About Jimin, exhausted but smiling softly at three in the morning. About every first step, every first word, every birthday they’d get to witness together.
Namjoon once told him that you never truly understood unconditional love until you held your child for the first time.
Yoongi already believed him.
When he lifted the slice of cake and saw the filling inside, his smile broke wide across his face.
One hand instinctively moved to cradle Jimin’s stomach before he leaned close, eyes impossibly soft.
“I can’t wait to meet you, Jungkookie.”
May 24th – 25 weeks (7 months for non-pregnant people)
The spare room in their apartment used to serve as a guest bedroom whenever their friends stayed over. But ever since the Kims got married and had Taehyung, and Hoseok became increasingly busy with his new, and extremely successful, dance academy, the room had done little more than collect dust.
Luckily for them, they now had a tiny someone on the way who desperately needed a space of his own.
Slowly, the old furniture disappeared, replaced piece by piece with baby furniture gifted during the baby shower. A crib, shelves, a dresser, tiny blankets, bags overflowing with clothes, nappies, and every single accessory anyone could possibly need to take care of a baby took over the room until it no longer resembled the guest bedroom at all.
In Yoongi’s opinion, it had become the most beautiful room in the entire apartment.
The nursery was forest-themed, entirely because Jimin had fallen in love with the idea the second he saw it online. Floral wallpaper covered the walls, soft green accents brightened the room, and plush animals were scattered practically everywhere. Little foxes sat on shelves, tiny deer peeked out from baskets, and stuffed bears occupied nearly every corner.
But Yoongi’s favorite was the bunny.
He’d found it during one of his late-night convenience store runs caused by Jimin’s cravings. The store had already closed by the time he got there, but sitting in the display window beneath a single warm light was a plush bunny with soft brown fur and floppy ears.
All he could think about was Jungkookie.
The next morning, he practically sprinted back to the store the second it opened. The older woman working there smiled through the entire transaction, watching him clutch the bunny like it was something precious.
“You’re excited,” she’d said warmly.
Yoongi had smiled shyly at that.
“It’s our first,” he admitted.
The woman’s smile softened even more before she handed him the bunny along with a tiny star-shaped chewing toy.
“Good luck charm,” she’d told him kindly.
Now both items sat proudly atop the dresser, surrounded by neatly folded baby clothes Jimin had spent hours organizing while Yoongi was at work.
Yoongi loved the nursery.
But more than the room itself, he loved what it represented. Every detail had been chosen carefully, lovingly. Every stuffed animal, every blanket, every tiny outfit had been bought with overwhelming excitement and tenderness.
It was a room built entirely out of love.
Though, if Yoongi was being honest, none of it compared to the amount of love waiting for Jungkookie himself.
That little boy would always win.
June 6th – 27 weeks (7 months for non-pregnant people)
It could very well be empathy, the reason Yoongi never slept whenever Jimin laid awake huffing, turning, and whining through the night. And to some extent, it was. Of course it was. The Alpha would never be able to relax knowing his omega was uncomfortable beside him.
But… if he was being honest with himself, it wasn’t like he had much of a choice either. Jungkookie had apparently decided that nighttime was the perfect opportunity to torture his omega parent to hell and back. It wasn’t the pup’s fault, not really. He was growing, moving around, stretching inside Jimin’s womb the way healthy babies did. But Jimin’s poor lungs could only take so much.
No position ever seemed comfortable enough anymore, even with the maternity pillow Seokjin had gifted him. Jimin tossed and turned constantly, sometimes ending up sprawled entirely on top of Yoongi, every inch of his body pressed against the Alpha’s. And Yoongi, in his mostly futile attempts to soothe his restless boyfriend, rubbed circles into his back, listened to his endless complaints, and occasionally got up to prepare tea or warm milk with honey.
The past two weeks had been exhausting, to put it simply. Still, Yoongi never complained. Jimin had it far worse than he did, and honestly, he wouldn’t have complained either way.
It was during one of those sleepless nights that Jimin, sitting cross-legged on the bed while staring down at his bump, let out a dramatic pout.
“Yoonie, can you rub my back? Kookie’s lodged under my lungs again.”
Yoongi nodded even though Jimin had already turned around to face away from him, and immediately started rubbing slow, soothing circles into his back.
“I don’t understand why it’s always at night,” Jimin grumbled. “During the day he moves around a lot too, but never enough to jab me in the lungs.”
Yoongi hummed softly. He didn’t really know how to comfort Jimin when he couldn’t fully understand what the omega was feeling. “Maybe it’s because you’re more active during the day?” he offered carefully. “You said he moves around a lot then too, but so do you.”
Jimin sighed before slowly lowering himself back down, curling against Yoongi’s side until his head and one hand rested over the Alpha’s chest.
“Even during the day I feel exhausted…” he murmured quietly, sounding more like he was talking to himself than to Yoongi. “How’s it gonna be when I’m even bigger?”
“Well… you are growing an entire person in there, Jimin-ah,” Yoongi reminded gently, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “It’s probably impossible for that to be comfortable all the time.”
“I know,” Jimin whined, bratty as ever, kicking his feet a little against the mattress. “I guess… I guess it’s worth it if we get Jungkookie in the end.”
Yoongi smiled softly and kissed his hair again.
“But birth’s going to hurt like a bitch,” Jimin added a second later. “I’m really not looking forward to that part.”
Yoongi snorted before he could stop himself.
“Ow! Kookie kicked!” Jimin gasped, slapping Yoongi’s chest. “You startled him!”
“Sorry, baby. Babies,” Yoongi corrected teasingly, resting a warm hand over the bump. “Are you more comfortable now, Jimin-ah?”
Thankfully, Jimin nodded.
“Yeah… I think the fright moved him, because I can breathe again.” He giggled quietly before snuggling even closer.
“Good. Then try to sleep while you can,” Yoongi murmured, already feeling the soft vibration of Jimin’s content purring against him.
“Night night, Yoonie.”
“Sweet dreams, Jimin-ah.”
June 29th – 30 weeks (8 months for non-pregnant people)
They were halfway to the Kim residence when Jimin suddenly cut himself off mid-sentence, one hand flying to his swollen belly as a deep frown pulled at his features. Yoongi immediately slowed the car, glancing anxiously toward the passenger seat while waiting to see if Jimin would recover on his own. But the sharp scent of fear hit his nose almost instantly, and that alone was enough for Yoongi to pull over without another thought.
The second the car stopped, he was out of his seat and circling the vehicle in record time. He yanked open the passenger door and reached for Jimin immediately.
“What’s wrong?” Yoongi asked breathlessly as he hurried to unbuckle Jimin’s seatbelt, one hand sliding beneath the omega’s chest to steady him upright.
But before Jimin could answer, another wave seemed to hit him. He curled forward with a strained sound, glassy eyes lifting toward Yoongi.
“I think—” Jimin sucked in a shaky breath. “I think it’s a contraction.”
His eyes widened with panic the moment the realization settled in. If he was having contractions, then that meant Jungkookie was coming far too early.
Yoongi tried to release calming pheromones, but his own fear tangled with them so badly it barely helped. His heart pounded violently against his ribs as he forced himself to inhale deeply. This was not the time to panic. Jimin already looked terrified enough for the both of them.
“Jimin, look at me.” Yoongi rubbed a trembling hand along the omega’s back. It took a moment, but eventually Jimin straightened slightly and met his eyes. “Baby, breathe with me, okay? In… out… in… out… good, that’s good…”
“Call Seokjin.” Jimin’s voice cracked around the words, and Yoongi hesitated for half a second, unwilling to let him go in that state. But the desperation in Jimin’s expression had him fumbling for his phone almost immediately.
It only rang twice before Seokjin picked up.
“Yoongi-ssi, when are you getting here? Taehyungie’s already bored—”
“Jin-hyung, Jimin…” Yoongi interrupted weakly.
The older omega’s tone changed instantly. “What’s wrong?”
“He’s having contractions and—and he’s—” Yoongi pressed a shaking hand to his forehead. “Jin-hyung, what do I do?”
“Okay, first of all, breathe,” Seokjin said firmly, his calmness cutting straight through Yoongi’s panic. “If Jimin sees you freaking out, he’s going to panic even more. Listen to me carefully. It’s way too early for Jungkookie to come. Time the contractions. Are they regular?”
“N-no. He only had two, and nothing since then.”
“Okay, good. Does he feel wet? Like slick?”
Yoongi froze. He had no idea.
“Go ask him, Yoongi,” Seokjin prompted.
“Right. Right, okay.”
Yoongi hurried back around the car where Jimin was still clutching his stomach tightly.
“Jiminie,” he said softly, crouching beside him again. “Do you feel wet? Like… slick?”
Jimin frowned in confusion before slowly shaking his head.
“No… I just felt this really sharp contraction, and then it stopped.”
“He says no,” Yoongi relayed into the phone.
Seokjin hummed thoughtfully. “Put me on speaker.”
“Okay.”
A second later, Seokjin’s voice filled the car.
“Angel?” he called gently.
Jimin hummed weakly to show he was listening.
“They’re Braxton Hicks.”
Silence filled the car.
“What?” Jimin asked quietly.
“You’re not going into labor, baby,” Seokjin reassured immediately, amusement threading softly through his tone now that the panic had passed. “Braxton Hicks contractions feel real, but they’re basically practice contractions. Jungkookie isn’t coming yet.”
The relief that hit Yoongi was so intense it almost made his knees weak.
“Get here, anyway” Seokjin continued. “We’ll keep an eye on Jiminie just in case.”
Yoongi agreed without hesitation. The idea of being around people who actually had experience with pregnancy suddenly sounded like the best thing in the world. So he helped Jimin settle back into his seat, buckled him in carefully, and got back on the road.
The rest of the drive passed in near silence.
Jimin stayed tense beside him, hands protectively curled around his bump, and Yoongi’s chest tightened at how quiet he was. Jimin always had something to say. The silence felt wrong.
When they finally pulled up outside the Kim house, Yoongi hurried around the car again to help Jimin out carefully, one hand securely wrapped around the omega’s smaller one.
“How are you feeling?” he asked quietly.
Jimin leaned into him a little as they walked. “Better than before,” he admitted softly. “But I’m still scared it wasn’t just Braxton Hicks.”
Yoongi understood immediately, and honestly, it didn’t reassure him much either. Still, Seokjin was here. They weren’t alone anymore.
As they approached the front door, the loud squeals of baby Taehyung drifted outside, instantly brightening the atmosphere. Yoongi felt Jimin visibly relax beside him, and the Alpha smiled faintly at the sight of his omega softening enough to greet the tiny pup currently waddling toward them at full speed.
“Kim Taehyung, you know better than to run out the door!” Seokjin’s voice echoed loudly from inside the house.
A second later, Seokjin appeared in the doorway, practically chasing after his son. His face was twisted into an exaggerated frown clearly meant to scold the child, though the concern in his eyes overpowered any real annoyance.
Taehyung squirmed happily in Yoongi’s arms after being picked up, babbling what sounded vaguely like an apology before immediately getting distracted by the necklace around Yoongi’s neck. Beside him, Jimin tried to suppress a laugh.
“He really takes after you,” Namjoon commented from the doorway, voicing what everyone else was already thinking.
July 30th – 35 weeks (9 months for non-pregnant people)
“You’re waddling.”
Yoongi made the comment absentmindedly, simply pointing it out without much thought, but Jimin stopped dead in his tracks and slowly turned to squint at him from the middle of the hallway.
“Of course I’m fucking waddling, Yoongi,” Jimin shot back immediately. “I’m carrying an entire child in here. Walking normally stopped being an option, like, two months ago.”
His tone was sharp and accusatory, and the scent of irritated peach filled the apartment almost instantly. Yoongi mentally cursed his complete lack of a brain-to-mouth filter.
“I didn’t mean it in a bad way, baby,” he tried to explain quickly, walking over to wrap his arms around the omega from behind. But Jimin only huffed louder, crossing his arms over his chest and turning his face away dramatically.
“You sounded judgy.”
“I wasn’t judging you,” Yoongi insisted, pressing a placating kiss against Jimin’s temple. “I just noticed it.”
“Well don’t notice it,” Jimin grumbled.
Yoongi snorted softly despite himself, tightening his hold around the omega’s middle. Jimin really did waddle now, especially during the last few weeks. His center of gravity had shifted with the added weight of Jungkookie, forcing him into slow little side-to-side steps that Yoongi honestly found ridiculously cute. Everything Jimin did lately somehow managed to be endearing to him. The sleepy pouting, the constant complaints, the way he gripped Yoongi’s arm whenever he stood up from the couch like he was eighty years old instead of twenty-something.
Unfortunately for him, saying that out loud would probably get him murdered.
“I think it’s cute,” he admitted anyway, because apparently self-preservation meant nothing to him anymore.
Jimin whipped around in his hold with narrowed eyes. “Cute.”
Yoongi nodded cautiously.
“You walk like a tiny angry penguin.”
There was a beat of silence.
Then Jimin gasped loudly, scandalised beyond belief, and smacked Yoongi’s chest hard enough to make the Alpha laugh.
“A penguin?!” Jimin repeated in disbelief. “You think I look like a penguin?”
“A very cute penguin,” Yoongi corrected quickly between laughs. “An adorable one, actually.”
“You’re sleeping on the couch.”
“No, I’m not,” Yoongi replied immediately. “You can’t sleep without stealing my body heat anymore.”
Jimin opened his mouth, then promptly closed it again with an offended look because they both knew Yoongi was right.
“You still compared me to a penguin,” he muttered under his breath.
Yoongi smiled helplessly and leaned down to nuzzle into Jimin’s neck. “One carrying my pup.”
The irritation in Jimin’s scent softened slightly after that, though he still looked determined to stay annoyed on principle alone.
“Penguins mate for life, you know,” Jimin mumbled quietly after a moment.
Yoongi blinked in surprise.
Jimin still refused to look directly at him, ears steadily turning pink. “I saw it in a documentary once,” he continued awkwardly. “They stay together forever and stuff. And the males carry the eggs around and protect them.”
Something warm and unbearably fond bloomed inside Yoongi’s chest.
“Yeah?” he asked softly.
Jimin shrugged one shoulder, suddenly very interested in the floor. “Yeah.”
Yoongi stared at him for a second before carefully turning the omega around again and pulling him flush against his chest, one hand settling instinctively over the bump between them.
“Well,” he murmured, pressing a kiss into Jimin’s hair, “then I guess calling you a penguin is the most romantic thing I’ve ever done.”
Jimin let out the most offended sound Yoongi had ever heard in his life.
“You are absolutely never flirting with me again.”
Yoongi only laughed, tightening his arms around both his omega and his pup while Jimin continued grumbling under his breath, though the soft purring rumbling from his chest betrayed him completely.
August 24th – 38 weeks (9 months for non-pregnant people)
As Yoongi said, it hadn’t fully settled in his mind that Jungkook could arrive at any moment.
Well, they technically still had around two weeks left, but babies apparently didn’t care much about schedules. At least that was what Seokjin kept reminding them every time he called to check on Jimin.
Still, seeing Jimin sprawled across the couch with a cereal bowl balanced carefully on top of his bump while his favourite reality show played on the TV filled Yoongi’s chest with an overwhelming warmth. Holly was curled up against Jimin’s thigh, snoring softly despite the dramatic screaming coming from the television, and the humid August heat outside made the entire apartment feel sleepy and slow.
The AC hummed softly in the background, fighting for its life against the Seoul summer.
Jimin suddenly gasped loudly.
“Oh my god, she did not just say that.”
Yoongi looked up from his laptop immediately, alarmed. “Who said what?”
Jimin pointed furiously at the TV with his spoon. “Jihye! She told him she went to Busan for ‘self-discovery,’ but she was literally making out with another guy three episodes ago!”
Yoongi blinked slowly.
“…Right.”
Jimin narrowed his eyes at him. “Don’t ‘right’ me, Yoongi. This is serious.”
“Of course,” Yoongi replied solemnly, biting back a smile.
Pregnancy had somehow transformed Jimin into a reality TV addict. At first, it had just been background noise while he folded baby clothes or complained about swollen ankles, but now Yoongi regularly came home to find his omega fully emotionally invested in the lives of strangers who screamed at each other for entertainment.
The worst part was that Yoongi had accidentally learned everyone’s names.
“She’s toxic,” Jimin continued passionately around a mouthful of cereal. “And Jiwoon has no self-respect.”
Yoongi hummed absentmindedly and turned back toward his laptop, though it barely lasted thirty seconds before—
“Yoongi.”
“Hm?”
“The baby kicked the bowl.”
That got his attention immediately.
Yoongi abandoned the laptop without hesitation and crossed the living room in seconds, dropping onto the couch beside Jimin. “Did he?” he asked, already placing a hand over the bump.
As if on cue, Jungkook kicked again hard enough to jostle the cereal bowl.
“There,” Jimin muttered dramatically. “So violent, don’t know who he got it from.”
Yoongi snorted. “You threw a slipper at me yesterday.”
“You deserved it.”
“I asked if you wanted ramyeon.”
“You asked while cooking kimchi stew in the middle of August,” Jimin shot back in disbelief.
Another kick landed against Yoongi’s palm, stronger this time, and his expression softened instantly. Even after weeks of feeling Jungkook move around, it still amazed him every single time. The baby was real. Their baby was real.
“He’s active today,” Yoongi murmured.
“He’s been active since six in the morning,” Jimin complained, shifting deeper into the couch cushions. “I think he’s trying to claw his way out because it’s too hot in there.”
Yoongi laughed quietly before leaning down to press a kiss against the bump through Jimin’s shirt. “Don’t listen to Daddy. You’re very cute.”
“Traitor,” Jimin muttered to his stomach.
Holly suddenly lifted his head with a sleepy huff before climbing directly over Jimin’s legs and settling against the bump like a furry heater.
Jimin stared down at the dog in betrayal. “Holly, it is thirty-four degrees outside.”
The puppy blinked slowly before pressing himself even closer to the belly.
“He loves his brother,” Yoongi said fondly.
“He loves making me sweat to death.”
Yoongi smiled helplessly as he looked between them. Jimin was flushed from the heat and pouting over his cereal, Holly sprawled over the bump, and Jungkook, kicking to make himself seen. The apartment smelled faintly of peaches, cereal milk, and fabric softener from the baby clothes currently drying on the balcony.
This. This was it.
This was everything he’d somehow built without even realising he wanted it this badly.
Then Jimin suddenly looked down at his bowl with a horrified gasp.
“Yoongi.”
“What?”
“Kookie kicked my cereal out.”
Sure enough, one lonely piece of cereal sat sadly on top of Jimin’s stomach.
There was a beat of silence.
Then Yoongi burst into laughter so hard he nearly slid off the couch while Jimin stared at him with the most offended expression imaginable.
“You’re laughing while your son attacks me.”
“Our son has excellent aim,” Yoongi wheezed out.
Jimin smacked his shoulder with a dramatic huff, though the soft purring rumbling in his chest betrayed how content he really was.
September 1st – D-DAY
September first came quietly.
The rain had started sometime during the night, soft against the windows of their apartment, accompanied by distant thunder and the occasional sound of cars passing through wet streets below. The sky outside was still grey when Yoongi woke up, though he couldn’t tell if it was early morning or simply the weather refusing to let daylight in properly.
Jimin was still asleep beside him.
Or half on top of him, more accurately.
The omega had somehow migrated during the night until he was sprawled against Yoongi’s chest, one leg tangled with his and one hand protectively resting over the heavy curve of his stomach. His peach-colored hair was messy against the pillow, lips slightly parted as soft breaths fanned against Yoongi’s neck.
Yoongi smiled immediately.
Carefully, he lowered his gaze to the bump pressed against his side.
Thirty-eight weeks.
Jungkook could come anytime now.
The thought still made his chest tighten in a way he couldn’t fully explain. Excitement, fear, love… all of it tangled together so tightly it became impossible to separate one emotion from the other.
As if sensing he was being watched, Jimin stirred with a small whine, nose scrunching before blinking slowly awake.
“Why are you staring at me?” he mumbled sleepily.
“You’re pretty.”
Jimin groaned at once, burying his face deeper into Yoongi’s shoulder. “It’s too early for you to flirt.”
“It’s eleven.”
“That’s still early.”
Yoongi laughed softly under his breath and pressed a kiss into his hair. The apartment smelled faintly of rain, laundry detergent, and peach. Home.
For a little while, neither of them moved.
Then Jimin shifted.
And froze.
Yoongi felt it immediately, the way the omega’s body suddenly tensed against him.
“Jiminie?” he asked quietly.
The younger frowned slightly, adjusting himself against the mattress before slowly sitting up with visible effort.
“I think…” Jimin paused. “I think I peed myself.”
Yoongi blinked.
“What?”
Jimin looked horrified.
“I think I actually peed myself,” he repeated, voice full of genuine disbelief as he stared down at the bed beneath him.
Yoongi’s brain short-circuited for a solid three seconds before his eyes dropped to the damp sheets.
Then reality hit him all at once.
“Oh, my god.”
Jimin’s eyes widened immediately. “What?”
“Jimin.”
“What?”
“I don’t think you peed yourself.”
Silence.
The younger stared at him.
Yoongi stared back.
Then—
“Oh.”
Another beat passed.
“Oh.”
Yoongi was moving before he even realised it, sitting up so quickly he nearly smacked his head against the headboard.
“Okay,” he breathed out shakily. “Okay.”
Jimin still looked stunned, staring blankly down at himself. “My water broke?”
“I think your water broke.”
“My water broke.”
“Yes.”
“Oh, my god.”
Yoongi reached for him immediately, both hands settling carefully on Jimin’s arms. “Are you okay? Are you hurting? Did you feel contractions? Do we call the hospital now? Wait, should we time things first?”
Jimin blinked up at him, still dazed. “I really thought I peed myself.”
Despite everything, despite the panic steadily climbing up his throat, Yoongi let out a weak laugh.
“Baby…”
“I was literally about to cry because I thought I lost bladder control.”
“You kind of did.”
“Yoongi.”
“Sorry.”
Jimin huffed softly, though it lacked any real annoyance. His hand instinctively moved to his stomach, fingers spreading protectively over the bump.
Almost immediately, Yoongi covered it with his own.
The room suddenly felt too small. Too warm.
Too real.
Jungkook was coming.
Another contraction hit barely minutes later.
Jimin sucked in a sharp breath, shoulders tensing as his fingers tightened painfully around Yoongi’s wrist.
And just like that, every ounce of calm Yoongi had built vanished.
“Okay,” he repeated quickly, mostly to himself this time. “Okay, we need to go.”
Jimin nodded, breathing unevenly through the discomfort. “Call Seokjin first.”
Right.
Seokjin.
Yoongi nearly dropped his phone trying to unlock it.
The older omega answered after two rings.
“Good morning to my favourite cou—”
“Hyung,” Yoongi interrupted breathlessly. “Jimin’s water broke.”
Silence.
Then, “Excuse me?”
“He’s having contractions too.”
That was enough to change Seokjin’s tone instantly.
“How far apart?”
“I don’t know yet, they just started.”
“Okay, listen to me carefully.” Seokjin’s voice turned calm, steady, grounding. “You need to stay relaxed. If you panic, Jimin will panic more.”
Yoongi looked over at his omega curled slightly into himself on the bed, one hand rubbing at his stomach while trying to breathe through another contraction.
His heart cracked clean open.
“I’m trying,” he admitted quietly.
“I know you are.” Seokjin softened immediately. “Get your bags and head to the hospital. Namjoon’s getting Taehyung ready, and Hoseok is on his way to us already. We’ll meet you there.”
Jimin looked up the moment Yoongi hung up.
“They know?”
Yoongi nodded.
“And?”
“And Jin-hyung told me not to panic.”
Jimin snorted weakly. “Good luck with that.”
The drive to the hospital felt strangely quiet.
Not silent. Jimin’s breathing filled the car, soft music playing faintly through the speakers, rain tapping steadily against the windows, but quiet in the sense that everything suddenly felt suspended.
Like the world had narrowed down to just the two of them.
Yoongi kept glancing toward the passenger seat every few seconds, one hand gripping the steering wheel while the other stayed firmly wrapped around Jimin’s whenever the contractions became too much.
Jimin looked exhausted already.
Beautiful, but exhausted.
His hair was damp at the temples, his oversized hoodie stretched tightly over his stomach, eyes half-lidded from discomfort as he leaned against the seat.
“You okay?” Yoongi asked softly at a red light.
Jimin nodded after a second. “Scared.”
The honesty in his voice hurt.
Yoongi immediately brought Jimin’s knuckles to his lips, kissing them gently.
“I’m right here.”
Jimin’s eyes softened instantly.
“I know.”
By the time they reached the hospital, the contractions had become stronger.
Not unbearable yet, according to Jimin, but enough that he clung tightly to Yoongi’s arm while they slowly walked through the entrance together.
The Kims and Hoseok arrived barely twenty minutes later.
Taehyung was half-asleep in Namjoon’s arms, tiny pyjamas wrinkled and hair sticking everywhere, but the second he spotted Jimin, his eyes widened.
“Baby Kookie?”
Jimin actually teared up a little at that.
“Yes, baby,” he whispered softly. “Kookie’s coming.”
Taehyung gasped dramatically before immediately reaching for Yoongi instead, tiny arms stretching toward him to be held.
Yoongi took him without hesitation, holding the sleepy pup close while Seokjin walked straight to Jimin and cupped his face gently.
“How are you feeling, angel?”
“Tired already,” Jimin admitted honestly.
“That’s normal.” Seokjin brushed his hair back carefully. “But you’re doing so well.”
Yoongi watched the interaction quietly, emotion clogging his throat unexpectedly.
He loved them.
All of them.
Hours later, after labour had fully settled in and the rain outside had long stopped, Yoongi sat beside Jimin’s hospital bed holding his hand while the omega cried through another contraction.
“You’re doing amazing,” Yoongi whispered, voice trembling slightly.
Jimin shook his head immediately. “No, I’m not.”
“Yes, you are.”
“It hurts so bad, Yoongi.”
The Alpha leaned forward instantly, pressing his forehead against Jimin’s damp one. “I know, baby. I know.”
And he wished more than anything that he could take the pain away himself.
When Jungkook finally arrived just after dawn, the first thing Yoongi heard was Jimin crying.
Not from pain this time.
Something softer. Something overwhelmed.
Then came the tiny cry that changed everything.
Yoongi stopped breathing.
The nurse carefully placed the baby against Jimin’s chest, and suddenly the room felt impossibly still.
Jungkook was so small. Tiny fingers, tiny nose, dark hair already sticking messily to his head.
Perfect.
“Oh,” Jimin whispered brokenly.
Yoongi felt tears fall before he even realised he was crying.
Jimin looked up at him then, exhausted beyond belief, eyes shining with tears and love and something almost disbelieving.
“We made him,” he whispered.
And Yoongi—
Yoongi thought he had fallen in love before.
But nothing, absolutely nothing, had ever felt like this.
September 9th – 1 week
Yoongi patted the empty spot beside him where Jimin was supposed to be. With a small frown, he rolled onto his side and reached for his phone, squinting when the screen lit up far too brightly in the darkness of the room.
6:27 AM.
The apartment was quiet.
Well, mostly quiet.
There was no crying, which immediately relaxed Yoongi a little. During the past week, he had learned to distinguish Jungkook’s different cries with surprising ease. Hungry cry. Sleepy cry. Wet diaper cry. The particularly heartbreaking cry that meant he simply wanted to be held.
This silence, though, was soft.
Peaceful.
Yoongi pushed himself out of bed, rubbing sleep from his eyes as he shuffled down the hallway, hair a mess and shirt hanging crookedly off one shoulder. As he approached the nursery, he began hearing Jimin’s voice.
Yoongi stopped right outside the slightly open door.
The melody was familiar instantly. A lullaby Jimin had hummed countless times over the years, usually absentmindedly while cooking or cleaning or cuddled against Yoongi late at night. It came from an old Disney movie Jimin adored, one Yoongi had watched so many times throughout their relationship that he could probably recite half the dialogue by heart.
Carefully, he pushed the door open wider and immediately felt his chest ache.
Jimin sat on the rocking chair near the window, cradling Jungkook against his chest while gently swaying back and forth. The early morning light filtered softly through the curtains, casting both of them in gold. Jungkook looked impossibly tiny wrapped in the pale yellow blanket Seokjin had cried over while knitting during the last months of the pregnancy.
Jimin’s eyes never left their son.
He traced one finger carefully across Jungkook’s cheek, expression so full of love it nearly brought Yoongi to his knees.
“He’s finally sleeping?” Yoongi whispered softly as he walked further into the room.
Jimin looked up immediately, smiling tiredly.
“Barely,” he murmured back. “He decided 5 AM was the perfect time to start screaming at me.”
Yoongi snorted quietly and moved closer, resting one hand on Jimin’s shoulder before leaning down to press a kiss into his hair. The peach scent he loved so much was softer now, mixed with milk and baby powder and something uniquely Jungkook.
Home.
“How long have you been awake?” Yoongi asked.
Jimin made a face. “Too long.”
“You should’ve woken me up.”
“I tried.” Jimin huffed quietly. “You literally grunted and rolled over.”
Yoongi blinked.
Jimin just stared at him.
Then, slowly, he tilted his head toward the baby in his arms.
Jungkook was asleep now, tiny lips parted slightly, one impossibly small hand curled against Jimin’s chest. His dark hair stuck up everywhere despite Jimin’s obvious attempts to smooth it down.
Yoongi melted immediately.
“Oh,” he whispered without thinking.
Jimin smiled knowingly. “Yeah. That’s what I keep saying.”
Carefully, Yoongi crouched beside the chair, unable to stop staring. One week.
Jungkook had only existed in the world for one week, and Yoongi already couldn’t remember what life had looked like before him.
Every exhausting moment somehow felt worth it. Even the sleepless nights, even the panic.
Even the fact that Yoongi had become so emotionally unstable that he almost cried yesterday because Jungkook grabbed his finger.
“He looks like me,” Yoongi murmured quietly.
Jimin scoffed immediately. “Excuse you, he has my nose.”
“He has my face.”
“He literally came out of me.”
“And yet.”
Jimin rolled his eyes fondly before looking back down at their son. His expression softened instantly.
“He’s really ours,” he whispered.
The awe in his voice made something warm settle painfully in Yoongi’s chest.
He reached out carefully, brushing the back of one finger against Jungkook’s tiny hand. Almost immediately, the baby curled his fingers around it in his sleep.
Yoongi stopped breathing.
“Oh my god,” he whispered.
Jimin giggled softly. “You say that every single time he does something.”
“Because every single thing he does is insane.”
“He sneezed yesterday, and you looked ready to cry.”
“It was cute.”
“There was snot everywhere, Yoongi.”
“It was adorable snot.”
Jimin laughed quietly then, careful not to wake the baby. The sound filled the nursery so gently that Yoongi thought, not for the first time, that he could spend the rest of his life right there and still be happy.
After a moment, Jimin’s smile faded into something softer.
“TaeTae called yesterday,” he murmured quietly. “He asked if Jungkookie misses him.”
Yoongi smiled immediately at the thought. Ever since meeting the baby at the hospital, Taehyung had apparently decided Jungkook belonged exclusively to him.
“What did you tell him?”
“That Jungkookie misses his favourite hyung very much.”
“As he should.”
Jimin hummed softly before resting his cheek against the top of Jungkook’s head.
For a while, neither of them spoke.
The rain from the week before had disappeared entirely, replaced now by the lingering heat of early September. Somewhere outside, the city was waking up slowly. Cars passing by. People heading to work. The world continuing on like normal.
But inside the nursery, time felt still.
Yoongi reached up carefully and brushed his fingers through Jimin’s hair.
“I love you,” he whispered.
Jimin looked down at him immediately, eyes soft and exhausted and impossibly happy all at once.
“We love you too,” he whispered back.