Jikook's Fanfiction Collection

Always Coming Roses ( And That's Alright )

Jimin glares at the magazine that’s fallen off the coffee table as if it just personally offended him.

The treacherous piece of paper lays at his feet, pages completely ruffled, and all Jimin has to do to put things back in order is to bend down, retrieve the abominable object, and put it back on the coffee table, where it’s supposed to be.

Easy, right?

Well, not so much when there is a 40-inch stomach that you have to somehow make your way around every time you so much as reach for the bottle of tomato sauce. Or put pants on in the morning. Or kiss your clingy husband who doesn’t seem to care for the geometrical predicament you find yourself in.

Jimin is 7 months in, and even if Jungkook wasn’t keeping a meticulous tally of each week of pregnancy, drawing little hearts and words of encouragement on the calendar, the pain that shoots up his back as soon as he gets out of bed in the morning would be enough to remind him of how far along he is in this whole process.

Which is exactly why Jimin finds himself in this position, growing more and more upset as the seconds pass and he’s still unable to pick up the magazine. He tries to use the coffee table as a prop to rest most of his body weight on as he bends his knees, but doesn’t even make it to the ground before the strain on his spine becomes too much.

He lets out an exasperated groan and his body falls back into the couch. Eyes fixed on the ceiling as he tries to catch his breath, Jimin mourns the days when he could repeat the same dance routine for hours on end without feeling the slightest sign of fatigue. They’re long gone now, and it’s all because of the little gremlin in his stomach slowly sucking up his life force.

The baby kicks twice in response, almost as if it’d been listening in on Jimin’s thoughts. Which wouldn’t really come as a surprise – Jimin is convinced that if there is one baby in this entire world that’s going to have supernatural powers, it’s going to be Jungkook’s kid.

“Ungrateful brats,” he mutters, one hand secured around the bottom of his stomach. “Both of you.”

Jungkook chooses this exact moment to walk into the living room, pants snug low on his hips and t-shirt apparently forgotten as he blinks sleepily around, before his gaze finally settles on Jimin. He immediately sighs in relief, making his way towards the couch with a smile.

Jimin has to admit that he’s kind of cute, with his messy bedhead and swollen cheeks, but he’s still the reason behind all of this, and Jimin is tired. He wants his body back, he wants his sex life back, and most of all, he wants to pick up that goddamn magazine.

Jungkook cuddles into his side, nuzzling his face in Jimin’s neck and breathing in. He keeps saying that Jimin smells different now that he’s pregnant, sweeter and warmer somehow, like honeycomb or a cup of jasmine tea on a rainy evening.

Jimin squirms a bit in his hold and sighs purposefully loud, his own personal passive-aggressive way of making Jungkook notice that he’s annoyed and he needs pampering.

It works just like it always does, and Jungkook raises his head to look at Jimin properly, laughing at the sight of Jimin’s pouty lips and crossed arms. Sometimes, Jungkook doesn’t know if there are one or two babies in this household.

“What is it, sweetheart?” he asks in a soft voice, flicking a few strands of Jimin’s hair off his forehead so he can see his eyes.

Jimin sighs again in response.

Jungkook drops a big, wet kiss on his cheek, and asks again. “Hm? What is it, sunshine?”

Finally, Jimin grumbles, although a bit petulantly, “Why couldn’t you be the pregnant one.” There isn’t a hint of humor in his tone, but Jungkook still laughs wholeheartedly, throwing his head back and shoulders shaking.