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Being young, married, and raising a pup had turned Jeongguk’s life upside down in the best possible way. Though some mornings, when he’d only slept two hours, he wondered if the universe was testing him.
He wasn’t complaining though because he got to sleep and wake up to the love of his life—the most gorgeous omega he had ever laid his eyes on—and because he got to spend his days watching their pup grow, discovering the world with wide, curious eyes. Mostly because he hadn’t had eight hours of proper sleep since their pup was born, and he hadn’t had any time alone with his omega with work and then the pup altogether. His days blurred together between office hours, grocery runs, late-night bottle warmings, and rocking a tiny body back to sleep while humming lullabies under his breath.
He loved his life. Honestly, he wouldn’t trade it for anything else.
That one particular morning started at 4:17 a.m.
Jeongguk didn’t even need to open his eyes to know what the soft whimpers over the baby monitor meant. He felt Jimin stir beside him, the omega’s warm hand sliding across his chest instinctively.
“I’ve got it,” Jeongguk mumbled, voice still thick with sleep as he placed a lazy kiss into Jimin’s hair. “You slept late. Let me.”
Jimin’s eyes blinked open anyway. “You came home exhausted yesterday,” he whispered. “I can go.”
Jeongguk smiled despite the way his bones felt like they were made of sand. “We’re not fighting over who gets less sleep at four in the morning,” he said gently, brushing his thumb over Jimin’s cheek. “Stay here. I’ll bring her back once she’s calm.”
Jimin caught his wrist before he could fully pull away. “You’re sure?”
“I’m sure,” Jeongguk replied, leaning down to press a proper kiss to Jimin’s lips this time. “Go back to sleep, my gorgeous omega.”
Jimin huffed, but there was a fond smile on his face as he let go.
Jeongguk padded down the hallway, scooping their pup into his arms. The tiny pup immediately quieted, small fingers clutching at Jeongguk’s shirt.
“Hey, hey,” Jeongguk murmured, swaying gently. “Papa’s here. What’s wrong, hm? Bad dream?”
The pup blinked up at him, lower lip wobbling before settling. Jeongguk’s heart melted on the spot.
Being a father had changed him in ways he hadn’t expected. He used to think he was patient, but this was different. This was a softness that lived in his chest permanently now. A kind of devotion that followed him everywhere.
By the time the sun began peeking through the curtains, Jeongguk had managed to feed and burp their pup. He settled back into bed carefully, placing the baby between them.
Jimin woke slowly this time, smiling as soon as he saw them. “You both look so cute I might cry,” he said sleepily, reaching out to stroke their pup’s hair. “Did she give you trouble?”
“Only a little,” Jeongguk replied. “She missed you.”
Jimin snorted. “She sees me all day.”
“And still misses you,” Jeongguk insisted, wrapping an arm around both of them. “Can’t blame her.”
Jimin turned slightly, looking at Jeongguk more closely. “You have dark circles,” he murmured, thumb brushing under his eyes. “Have you even slept properly since she was born?”
Jeongguk laughed. “You’re counting?”
“I’m worried,” Jimin corrected softly. “You work all day and then come home and refuse to rest.”
“I want to be here,” Jeongguk said. “I already miss you both when I’m at work. I don’t want to miss anything.”
Jimin’s expression softened even more. “You’re such a softie.”
“Only for you,” Jeongguk replied without hesitation.
The rest of the morning unfolded in that messy domestic way that had somehow become their normal. Breakfast was half-eaten toast and fruit slices because the pup decided that spoons were fascinating and required immediate investigation. Jimin laughed when mashed banana ended up on Jeongguk’s cheek.
“You have something right here,” Jimin teased, leaning in close.
Jeongguk grinned. “Are you going to wipe it off?”
“Maybe,” Jimin hummed, and instead of using a napkin, he kissed it away.
Jeongguk’s ears turned red instantly. “Jimin,” he warned lightly.
“What?” Jimin said innocently. “I’m just helping.”
Their pup squealed in delight at the display, tiny hands slapping against the highchair tray.
“See?” Jimin said proudly. “Our Bomi approves.”
Jeongguk shook his head, but he was smiling so hard it almost hurt. “I miss this,” he admitted after a moment, more serious now. “Just… us. Like this. Without me checking the clock every five minutes.”
Jimin’s teasing faded into something tender. “I miss it too,” he said. “But this is still us. It’s just… louder.”
Jeongguk let out a breathy laugh. “Louder is an understatement.”
That evening, after work, Jeongguk came home to find Jimin sprawled on the living room floor with their pup, both of them surrounded by colorful toys. Jimin looked up, hair messy, cheeks flushed.
“You’re home!” he said brightly.
Jeongguk didn’t even bother taking off his shoes before crouching down to kiss him. “Hi.”
Their pup crawled over clumsily, babbling excitedly. Jeongguk scooped her up and pressed noisy kisses all over her face.
“How was today?” Jeongguk asked.
“She refused her nap and then cried because she was tired,” Jimin said with a small pout. “I may or may not have almost cried too.”
“You should’ve called me.”
“And what? Have you leave work?” Jimin shook his head. “You already do so much.”
Jeongguk set their pup down in the playpen before pulling Jimin into his arms. “I don’t feel like I’m doing enough,” he admitted into Jimin’s shoulder. “I feel like I barely get time with you. With her.”
Jimin pulled back just enough to look at him properly. “Jeongguk,” he said gently, cupping his face. “You are a good alpha. A good husband. A good father. Just because we’re tired doesn’t mean we’re failing.”
Jeongguk swallowed. “I just wish I had more time to spend with you while juggling work and caring for our baby.”
“We’ll find it,” Jimin promised. “Maybe not in grand, dramatic ways. But in small ones. Like this.”
He leaned in and kissed him right there in the middle of the living room while their pup babbled happily in the background.
Later that night, after bath time and another round of lullabies, they finally collapsed into bed together.
Jeongguk turned onto his side, brushing his fingers along Jimin’s arm. “Even when I’m exhausted,” he murmured, “I wouldn’t trade this for anything.”
Jimin smiled softly in the dim light. “Me neither.”
Time flew really fast especially when you didn’t get enough sleep and you had a baby crying his heart out every single day at the break of dawn.
Five months passed in what felt like a blur of milk-stained shirts, lullabies hummed at ungodly hours, and laughter shared over the smallest milestones. One day Bomi was barely able to hold her head up, and the next she was rolling over with determined little grunts, as if she had something important to prove.
And then reality returned.
After those five months, Jimin also had to go back to work and his usual routine to provide for their pup and their family. Jimin and Jeongguk had actually stretched their leave as long as they possibly could. Bills didn’t pause just because your baby was small and perfect and needed you every second of the day.
Still, it pained their hearts to put her in a daycare at only five months old and leave her in a complete stranger’s care.
The night before his first day, Jimin sat cross-legged on the living room floor with Bomi in his lap, carefully packing a tiny bag. Extra onesies. A soft blanket that still carried the scent of home. Pre-measured milk. A small plush toy that Jeongguk had bought before Bomi was even born.
Jeongguk watched from the couch, elbows resting on his knees. “Do we have to?” he asked, looking like he was five seconds away from crying, not for the first time.
Jimin didn’t look up right away. He folded a pair of socks with too much care. “We talked about this.”
“I know,” Jeongguk murmured. “I just… she’s so small, baby.”
Bomi blinked up at them, unaware of what was happening, and grabbed a fistful of Jimin’s shirt.
Jimin finally looked up, eyes already suspiciously shiny. “Do you think I don’t know that?” he asked. “She still fits perfectly on my chest. She still falls asleep when I hum that one song. I know she’s small.”
Jeongguk moved to sit beside them, wrapping an arm around Jimin’s waist and pressing his lips to Bomi’s hair. “I hate the thought of someone else holding her when she cries.”
Jimin let out a shaky breath. “Me too.”
There was a long pause before Jimin whispered, “But we’re doing this for her. To provide for her. That’s part of loving him too.”
Jeongguk nodded, pressing his forehead against Jimin’s temple. “We’ll pick her up early whenever we can.”
“And we’ll call during our breaks,” Jimin added.
“And if I don’t like the place, we’ll find another one,” Jeongguk said.
Jimin let out a watery laugh. “You already interrogated the staff like you were conducting a background check.”
“I had questions,” Jeongguk defended, though his lips twitched.
The first morning was the hardest.
Bomi was strapped into her tiny carrier, blinking sleepily as they stood in front of the daycare building. It wasn’t big or flashy, but it was clean, and filled with pastel colors. The caregiver assigned to Bomi, an older woman with kind eyes, greeted them with a reassuring smile.
“You can call anytime,” she said kindly. “We’ll take good care of him.”
Jeongguk nodded, but his jaw was tight. Jimin held Bomi a little longer before passing her over.
The moment his arms were empty, his chest felt wrong.
“We will come back soon,” Jimin whispered, brushing his fingers over Bomi’s cheek. “Be good, okay?”
Bomi simply stared at him, unaware, trusting.
Jeongguk stepped closer, his voice softer than Jimin had ever heard it. “You’re our brave girl,” he murmured. “We love you so much.”
Walking out without him felt unnatural. The car ride to work was painfully quiet.
Jimin finally broke the silence. “Do you think she’ll cry?”
“Yes,” Jeongguk answered honestly. “And I’m going to lose my mind thinking about it.”
Jimin let out a small, teary laugh. “You’re not helping.”
“I’m sorry,” Jeongguk said quickly, reaching for his hand. “She’ll be okay. She’s strong. She’s curious.”
“And she likes people,” Jimin added, trying to reassure himself more than Jeongguk.
Weeks passed.
Everything was going well. Bomi seemed to be doing fine. She was healthy and alright. The caregivers sent little updates during the day like photos of her lying on a play mat, wide-eyed and alert, or gripping a colorful toy with concentration.
Jimin was the one who always picked her up since his workplace was closer to the daycare. It became their routine.
Every afternoon, Jimin would practically speed-walk to the entrance, heart already beating faster in anticipation. The second he stepped inside, his nose would pick up the scent of his pup mixed with baby powder.
And every single time, without fail, Bomi would react before she even fully saw him.
It started with a pause. Then wide eyes. Then her entire face would light up as if someone had turned on a switch inside her.
“Ba! Ba! Ba!” Bomi would babble excitedly, tiny arms flailing.
Jimin’s expression would melt instantly. “There’s my baby,” he would coo, stepping forward quickly. “Did you miss me? Hm? Did you?”
The caregiver would laugh, endeared. “She knows your scent,” she’d say. “She gets so excited right before you even walk into view.”
Jimin would take her into his arms, and Bomi would immediately bury her face into Jimin’s neck, inhaling deeply, little hands gripping onto his shirt.
“I missed you too,” Jimin would whisper, pressing kisses along his temple. “Appa thought about you all day. Did you behave? Did you charm everyone like you always do?”
Bomi would respond with enthusiastic babbling, as if recounting every event of her day.
When they got home, Jeongguk would already be waiting by the door more often than not.
“Is she here?” he’d call out before Jimin even fully stepped inside.
“Yes,” Jimin would laugh. “Relax.”
Jeongguk would scoop Bomi up immediately, peppering her cheeks with kisses. “Did you survive another day without us, huh? You’re so strong.”
Bomi would respond right away, her whole face lighting up as she started babbling excitedly. “Ba ba! Da! Ahh—ba!” she chirped, her tiny hands waving in the air like she had an entire story to tell. Neither of them understood a single word of what she was saying, but it sounded incredibly important to her.
Jeongguk would stare at her with wide, amused eyes. “Oh really?” he would say seriously, as if he understood every word. “That happened today?”
Bomi would continue her enthusiastic explanation, little noises tumbling out one after another while she bounced slightly in his arms.
Jimin would lean closer, smiling so fondly it made his chest ache. “Wow,” he’d murmur softly. “That sounds like a very busy day.”
Bomi would babble again, louder this time, clearly pleased that she had their full attention.
Jeongguk would laugh and press another kiss to her cheek. “You hear that, baby?” he’d say with mock amazement. “She’s telling us everything.”
Jimin would nod along, playing into it easily. “Of course she is. We just don’t speak fluent Bomi yet.”
They’d both coo at her anyway, smiling and nodding as if her tiny, nonsensical sentences made perfect sense because to them, it didn’t really matter what she was saying. That was their baby trying her very best to communicate with them, and every little babble felt like the most important conversation in the world.
That quickly became their routine.
Jimin would always be early to pick up Bomi from daycare. Not just on time, but early. He would glance at the clock at work every few minutes once the afternoon rolled in, finishing tasks faster than usual, already mentally calculating how long it would take him to walk there. His workplace was closer to the daycare, everything aligned perfectly with his schedule, and it simply made sense for him to be the one to go.
But that didn’t stop Jeongguk from trying to argue otherwise.
It started subtly at first.
One Tuesday afternoon, Jimin was slipping on his coat when his phone buzzed.
Jeongguk: “What time are you leaving?”
Jimin smiled to himself before typing back. “In five minutes. Why?”
His phone rang almost immediately.
“Don’t go yet,” Jeongguk said without greeting.
Jimin raised a brow, amused. “Hello to you too.”
“I’m serious,” Jeongguk insisted. “I can leave early today. I already talked to my manager. I can pick her up.”
Jimin leaned against the wall, lowering his voice even though his shift was practically over. “Jeongguk.”
“What?” Jeongguk replied, defensive but soft. “I’m her father too.”
“I know you are,” Jimin said gently. “No one’s questioning that.”
“Then let me pick her up,” Jeongguk pushed. “I want to see her face light up when she sees me walk in. I want her to reach for me.”
Jimin’s expression melted instantly at the sincerity in his tone. He could practically picture Jeongguk at work, brows furrowed, lower lip slightly pushed out in that stubborn pout he always wore when he felt strongly about something.
“You already see her light up when you come home,” Jimin said softly. “She practically launches herself at you.”
“That’s different,” Jeongguk murmured. “At daycare, she waits. I want to be the one she waits for.”
Jimin’s heart squeezed.
“I appreciate it so much,” he said. “You have no idea how much that means to me. But it would be too much of a hassle if you left early every time. Your workplace is farther. You’d be rushing. I’m literally five minutes away. Everything aligns with me.”
There was a pause on the other end.
“I don’t care about the hassle,” Jeongguk muttered.
“I do,” Jimin replied firmly but warmly. “I don’t want you stressing about traffic or work piling up. I can do it. It makes sense.”
Jeongguk sighed dramatically. “You’re too responsible.”
“And you’re too stubborn.”
“I just miss her,” Jeongguk admitted after a moment, voice dropping. “I sit at my desk and think about whether she’s napping or if she’s smiling at someone else.”
Jimin’s tone softened instantly. “She smiles at everyone. But it’s different with us. You know that.”
“Still,” Jeongguk grumbled lightly. “I should be the one picking her up sometimes.”
“Then do it on Fridays,” Jimin offered. “When you can actually leave without it being a problem.”
“…Really?”
“Yes, really,” Jimin laughed. “We can alternate when it makes sense. I’m not gatekeeping our daughter.”
Jeongguk huffed. “It sounds like you are.”
Jimin gasped playfully. “Excuse me?”
“I’m kidding,” Jeongguk quickly said, chuckling. “Okay. Fridays. But if I get off early randomly, I’m going.”
“Of course you are,” Jimin replied fondly.
And just like that, it became part of their routine too, lighthearted arguments over who got to pick up their own child.
On days when Jeongguk didn’t call, he would still text.
Jeongguk: “Did you leave yet?”
Jimin: “Yes.”
Jeongguk: “Tell her Papa is coming home soon.”
Jimin: “She can’t understand full sentences yet.”
Jeongguk: “Tell her anyway.”
Jimin would smile to himself as he walked into the daycare, the scent of baby powder and clean laundry greeting him. And just like always, Bomi would react before she even saw him properly.
Her tiny head would turn. Her eyes would widen. And then her whole face would light up.
“Ba! Ba!” she would babble excitedly, arms waving.
Jimin would crouch down immediately. “There’s my sunshine,” he would murmur, scooping her up. “Did you have a good day? Did you miss Appa?”
Bomi would bury her face into Jimin’s neck, inhaling deeply as if confirming something essential.
“Your Papa tried to fight me again about picking you up,” Jimin would whisper conspiratorially. “He thinks I’m stealing you.”
Bomi would respond with a string of happy babbles, as if fully invested in the drama.
When they got home, Jeongguk would be waiting.
“Did she smile?” he’d ask immediately, stepping forward.
“She always smiles,” Jimin would reply, slipping off his shoes.
“But was it big?” Jeongguk pressed. “Like the really big one?”
“The biggest,” Jimin would say, exaggerating with his hands. “Her entire face lit up.”
Jeongguk’s shoulders would relax every time, tension he didn’t even realize he carried easing away. He’d take Bomi into his arms and murmur, “Next time, I’m coming to get you. Don’t get too used to your Appa hogging you.”
Jimin would cross his arms with mock offense. “Hogging?”
“Yes,” Jeongguk said seriously. “You’re monopolizing pickup smiles.”
Jimin would step closer, leaning into him. “You’re ridiculous.”
“I know,” Jeongguk replied easily, pressing a kiss to Jimin’s temple. “But I love her. And I love you. I just want to be there.”
Jimin would tilt his head slightly, resting it against Jeongguk’s shoulder. “You are there. Every single day. Just because I pick her up doesn’t mean you’re not showing up.”
Jeongguk would look at him for a long moment before sighing softly. “Fine. But I’m still taking Fridays.”
“Fridays are yours,” Jimin would confirm with a small smile.
And on the rare days Jeongguk did manage to leave early and surprise them, the outcome was always the same.
Bomi’s eyes would widen.
Her arms would fling outward.
Her whole face would light up.
And Jeongguk would turn to Jimin afterward, looking almost teary.
“Did you see that?” he’d whisper. “She reached for me.”
Jimin would smile, squeezing his hand. “She always will.”
Their little “fights” weren’t really fights at all. They were just two young parents, exhausted but overflowing with love, wanting every possible second with their pup.
And if that meant arguing over who got to pick him up from daycare, then so be it.
It was the softest kind of problem to have.
Of course, it wasn’t always perfect.
They were young. They were tired. They were deeply in love.
And sometimes, all of those things collided at once in ways that were messy and a little chaotic.
That particular day had started off unexpectedly sweet.
There was a special holiday, something minor but enough for both of their workplaces to announce a half day. Jimin had texted first.
Jimin: “We’re closing early. I’ll be home by two.”
Jeongguk’s reply came almost instantly.
Jeongguk: “Same.”
Jimin had smiled at his phone, warmth spreading through his chest. It felt rare being on the same schedule without planning it weeks in advance.
They got home nearly at the same time, stepping through the door with surprised grins.
“It’s so quiet,” Jimin murmured, slipping off his shoes.
Jeongguk closed the door behind them slowly, eyes lingering on his omega longer than usual. “It’s just us.”
It really was. Bomi was still at daycare, and they had about an hour before pickup.
An hour.
Jeongguk stepped closer, sliding his arms around Jimin’s waist from behind, burying his face in his neck. He inhaled deeply, shoulders relaxing.
“I missed you,” he murmured.
Jimin giggled. “You saw me this morning.”
“That doesn’t count,” Jeongguk replied immediately. “Mornings are a mess. I haven’t actually had you to myself in weeks.”
Jimin leaned back into him slightly but glanced at the clock on the wall. “We only have an hour before we have to leave to pick up Bomi.”
Jeongguk groaned dramatically and turned Jimin around so they were face to face. “An hour is plenty of time.”
“Jeongguk,” Jimin warned, though there was no real heat in it. “It’s literally just sixty minutes.”
The alpha pouted, actually pouted, his bottom lip pushing out, eyes wide and soft. “Please. It’ll be quick. I miss you so much I feel like I’m going insane.”
Jimin tried to stay firm. He really did.
But he felt the same way.
He missed his alpha’s kisses that didn’t get interrupted by baby monitors. He missed being held without tiny hands tugging at his shirt. He missed being more than just “Appa” for a little while.
“You promise it’ll be quick?” Jimin asked, narrowing his eyes slightly.
Jeongguk nodded immediately. “Quick. I swear.”
Jimin hesitated for all of three seconds before sighing. “Fine.”
That “quick” was a total scam.
Because Jeongguk was, unfortunately, an insatiable young alpha who had been deprived of uninterrupted time with his omega for far too long.
One kiss turned into several. Several turned into wandering hands and breathless laughter and murmurs of “I missed this” and “You’re so beautiful.” The apartment felt intimate in a way it hadn’t in months.
And when Jimin breathlessly whispered, “Jeongguk, we really don’t have time—”
Jeongguk had only smiled against his skin and murmured, “Just one more.”
One more became another.
And another.
By the time Jimin finally reached blindly for his phone on the bedside table, still flushed and dazed, his stomach dropped.
“Jeongguk.”
“Hm?” the alpha responded lazily, clearly pleased with himself.
Jimin’s eyes widened. “We were supposed to pick up Bomi thirty minutes ago.”
There was a beat of silence.
“…What?”
Jimin shot upright so fast he nearly toppled off the bed. “We’re late. We are actually late.”
He scrambled off the mattress in a panic, grabbing the nearest clothes he could find. In his rush, he almost slipped on the floor.
“Careful!” Jeongguk yelped, jumping up too.
“You said it would be quick!” Jimin snapped, smacking Jeongguk’s arm as he tried to pull on his pants. “You said quick!”
“I thought it was quick!” Jeongguk defended, already hopping into his jeans. “Time moved weirdly!”
“Time did not move weirdly!” Jimin exclaimed, running a hand through his hair in horror. “We left our baby there!”
Jeongguk winced at the guilt in Jimin’s voice. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. This is my fault.”
Jimin shoved past him toward the door, grabbing his bag. “I can’t believe this. I can’t believe we—oh my god.”
Jeongguk followed right behind him, still trying to button his shirt properly. He looked like a guilty little puppy, ears metaphorically drooping.
“I said I’m sorry,” he repeated softly. “I really am.”
Jimin paused just long enough to glare at him, and then froze.
“…Jeongguk.”
“What?”
“You forgot to fix your hair.”
Jeongguk immediately patted it down frantically.
“And you smell like me,” Jimin added, cheeks flushing.
Jeongguk blinked. “You smell like me.”
They both went quiet for half a second before Jimin gasped. “I forgot to wear underwear.”
“You what?”
“I was rushing!” Jimin shot back, mortified.
Despite the panic, Jeongguk nearly laughed but swallowed it when Jimin smacked him again.
“Not funny!”
“Sorry, sorry,” Jeongguk said quickly, grabbing the car keys. “Let’s go. We’ll apologize properly.”
They were both still disheveled when they arrived at the daycare. Jimin’s hair was slightly messy no matter how much he tried to smooth it down in the car, and Jeongguk’s shirt was buttoned unevenly.
And they absolutely reeked of sex.
Their pheromones were thick, tangled together in a way that made Jimin want to sink into the pavement out of embarrassment.
As they hurried inside, the building was noticeably quiet.
Too quiet.
Jimin’s heart sank when he looked toward the play area and saw Bomi sitting on a soft mat, the only pup left, chewing absentmindedly on a toy.
Their baby looked up at the sound of the door.
Her eyes widened.
And then her entire face lit up.
Jeongguk didn’t hesitate. He crossed the room in long strides and scooped Bomi into his arms, holding her tightly against his chest.
At first, it was subtle.
She had lit up when she saw them walk in, her little face brightening the way it always did whenever her parents arrived. But the moment Jeongguk gathered her into his arms, she went oddly quiet.
Jeongguk bounced her gently as he held her against his chest. “Hi, my baby,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Did you wait long? Appa’s here now.”
Bomi didn’t babble back the way she usually did.
Instead, she buried her face into Jeongguk’s neck, pressing her tiny nose into his skin like she was searching for comfort in his scent.
Jeongguk instinctively tightened his hold on her, rocking slightly. “Oh, sweetheart,” he cooed. “Were you lonely?”
But then she pulled away.
And immediately started wiping aggressively at her nose.
Not the soft little rubbing babies usually did. No, Bomi was scrubbing at her face with her little fists like something had personally offended her.
Then she huffed.
Actually huffed.
Her tiny brows scrunched together, cheeks flushed pink, lips forming the most dramatic little pout.
Jeongguk blinked.
Meanwhile, Jimin bowed repeatedly to the caregiver, face flushed. “I’m so sorry we’re late. This has never happened before. It will never happen again, I promise.”
The caregiver smiled kindly, clearly amused but professional. “It’s alright. Things happen. She was perfectly fine.”
Jimin exhaled shakily. “Still, I feel terrible.”
“You’re good parents,” she assured gently. “She wasn’t upset. Just waiting.”
That somehow made it worse.
Jimin stepped closer to Jeongguk, who was still holding Bomi like she might disappear.
When Jeongguk finally looked at him, he looked remorseful. “I really am sorry,” he murmured again.
Jimin sighed, his frustration melting. “We both got carried away.”
Jeongguk’s ears were pink. “You said yes.”
Jimin narrowed his eyes but couldn’t stop the tiny smile tugging at his lips. “You’re insatiable.”
And then of all a sudden:
“Uh… Jimin.”
Jimin, who had just finished thanking the caregiver again, turned toward them. “What?”
Jeongguk stared down at their daughter, then back at his omega. “Why does she look angry?”
Jimin stepped closer, confusion written across his face. But the moment Bomi looked up and spotted him, something even stranger happened.
Her eyes narrowed.
For a pup, Bomi surely looked pissed.
Jimin froze. “Did… did she just glare at you?”
Jeongguk tried, he really tried, not to laugh.
But Bomi looked so unbelievably adorable while looking so furious that his lips started trembling with the effort of holding it in.
Her chubby little cheeks were dusted with red, puffed up in irritation, and her pouty little lips stuck out dramatically as she stared straight at Jeongguk like he had personally betrayed her.
“Hey,” Jeongguk said softly, trying to soothe her. He gently reached up and brushed a thumb over her cheek. “What’s wrong with my little pup, hm?”
Bomi immediately turned her face away from his touch.
Then she let out a loud baby yell.
It wasn’t quite a word, not even close, but it was definitely a protest.
Jeongguk’s eyes widened in shock.
Then, slowly, amusement crept across his face.
“Did she just—”
“Yes,” Jimin whispered, eyes huge. “She yelled at you.”
Jeongguk blinked down at Bomi again, who was now glaring at him with all the seriousness her tiny face could muster.
“Oh my god,” he muttered under his breath, trying not to burst into giggles. “You’re mad.”
Bomi huffed again.
Jimin watched the scene unfold before something slowly clicked in his mind.
“…Jeongguk.”
“Yeah?”
“Hold on.”
Jimin stepped closer, leaning in slightly. Bomi immediately sniffed the air again, her nose wrinkling.
And then she glared even harder.
Jimin’s eyes widened.
“Oh my god.”
Jeongguk looked at him. “What?”
Jimin whispered, horrified and amused at the same time, “She smells me on you.”
Jeongguk froze.
They both went quiet for a moment as realization dawned on them.
The strong mix of their pheromones.
The very obvious scent of Jimin all over Jeongguk.
And the fact that they had picked her up late.
“…Oh,” Jeongguk said slowly.
Jimin covered his mouth with his hand. “She thinks—”
“She thinks I kept you from her,” Jeongguk finished.
Right on cue, Bomi glared up at him again with renewed determination.
Jeongguk finally lost the battle and let out a laugh.
“Hey,” he said gently, bouncing her slightly. “Don’t look at me like that. It wasn’t entirely my fault.”
Bomi responded with another loud baby yell.
Jimin snorted.
“Okay, maybe it was mostly your fault.”
“Hey!”
Jeongguk tried again to soothe her, brushing her cheek and cooing softly. “Bomi, sweetheart. Papa’s sorry, okay? Don’t be mad.”
Bomi dramatically turned her head the other way.
Jimin bit his lip to stop himself from laughing.
“She’s ignoring you.”
“She is not ignoring me.”
Bomi sniffed loudly and refused to look at him.
Jeongguk stared at her in disbelief. “She’s ignoring me.”
Jimin’s shoulders started shaking.
“Stop laughing,” Jeongguk muttered.
“I’m trying,” Jimin wheezed.
“Come here,” Jeongguk said, stepping closer to Jimin. “Maybe she just wants you.”
The moment he took one step toward his omega—
Bomi yelled again.
Louder this time.
Both men froze.
They slowly looked at each other.
“…Did she just yell because I got closer to you?” Jeongguk asked.
Jimin nodded slowly.
Jeongguk took another tiny step toward Jimin.
Bomi’s reaction was immediate.
She threw her little head back and let out another furious baby yell, arms flailing slightly like she was protesting the entire situation.
It was like watching the tiniest tantrum in the world.
Jeongguk stared down at her, stunned. “She’s blocking me.”
Jimin burst out laughing.
“Oh my god,” he managed between breaths. “She thinks you’re the reason we were late.”
Bomi sniffed again and glared up at Jeongguk as if confirming the accusation.
Jeongguk tried to look offended, but the sight of her pouty lips and scrunched nose made it impossible.
“You’re unbelievable,” he told her softly. “You’re five months old.”
Bomi huffed.
Jimin wiped at the corner of his eye. “Her instincts are strong.”
Jeongguk tried to step closer to Jimin again.
Bomi immediately started squirming and yelling in protest like she was throwing a full-blown tantrum.
“Okay, okay!” Jeongguk laughed, stepping back. “I get it!”
Jimin leaned against the wall, laughing helplessly now.
“She’s actually scolding you.”
“She’s judging me,” Jeongguk corrected.
The situation became even worse when both of them finally burst into full laughter.
Bomi’s lower lip started trembling.
“Oh no,” Jimin said immediately.
A second later, Bomi began to cry.
Not just a little whimper, but full, offended baby sobs.
“Hey, hey,” Jimin said quickly, stepping forward to take her. “No, sweetheart. Appa’s sorry.”
But even when Jimin held her, Bomi kept glaring over his shoulder at Jeongguk between sniffly cries.
Jeongguk tried to approach carefully. “Bomi…?”
The moment he got close, she burst into another fit of sobs.
Jeongguk stopped immediately. “Okay.”
Jimin rubbed Bomi’s back gently, trying to coax her. “It’s okay, baby. No one’s laughing at you.”
But Bomi was clearly not over it.
And every time Jeongguk tried to help, she would start crying all over again.
After the third attempt, Jeongguk sighed dramatically and raised his hands in surrender.
“I’ve been exiled.”
Jimin chuckled softly while rocking Bomi. “Actions have consequences.”
Jeongguk stared at them both, still amused despite the situation.
“…She definitely gets that attitude from you.”
Jimin gasped. “Excuse me?”
Bomi sniffed loudly and glared at Jeongguk again.
Jeongguk pointed at her. “See?”
Jimin couldn’t help it.
He started laughing all over again.
The ride home was… tense.
Or at least, as tense as it could possibly be with a five-month-old baby who had decided she was deeply offended by her father’s existence.
After the third time Bomi burst into tears whenever Jeongguk tried to get too close to Jimin, they had decided it would be best if Jeongguk held her in the back seat while Jimin drove.
Now Jimin was behind the wheel, glancing at the rearview mirror every few seconds while trying very hard not to laugh again.
Because behind him, Jeongguk was attempting one apology after another.
And Bomi was absolutely refusing to even look at him.
She sat stiffly in his arms, her tiny body leaning slightly away from him, her neck turned dramatically to the side like she was avoiding eye contact on purpose.
Jeongguk stared down at her in disbelief.
“Bomi,” he said gently. “Sweetheart.”
No response.
Not even a glance.
“Are you really ignoring me?”
Bomi sniffed.
And kept her face turned away.
Jeongguk let out a dramatic sigh.
“Jimin,” he called.
“Yes?” Jimin replied, already smiling.
“She won’t even look at me.”
“I can see that.”
“I’m serious,” Jeongguk said, sounding genuinely distressed now. “She hasn’t looked at me for five minutes.”
Jimin chuckled softly. “Maybe she’s still mad.”
Jeongguk leaned closer, trying again.
“Bomi,” he murmured apologetically. “Papa is really sorry. I promise we won’t be late again. I swear.”
Nothing.
Her neck stayed turned away.
Jeongguk frowned.
“Baby, if you keep your neck like that, you’re going to hurt yourself,” he said worriedly. “You have to look forward at some point.”
Bomi made a tiny huffing noise.
But did not move.
Jeongguk looked up at Jimin through the rearview mirror. “She’s doing it on purpose.”
Jimin giggled. “She probably is.”
“I’m apologizing sincerely,” Jeongguk protested. “I’m taking responsibility.”
“Maybe you should sound more remorseful.”
Jeongguk blinked. “How much more remorseful can I get?”
Jimin shrugged lightly while keeping his eyes on the road. “You did say it would be quick.”
“That was a miscalculation,” Jeongguk muttered.
He looked down at Bomi again, who was still refusing to acknowledge him.
“…Is this what my friends meant?”
Jimin raised a brow. “What do you mean?”
Jeongguk sighed dramatically.
“When they said, ‘Wait until you have a girl child and you’ll see what attitude actually means.’”
Jimin snorted.
“I thought they were exaggerating,” Jeongguk continued, looking down at Bomi with wide eyes. “She’s five months old and already giving me the silent treatment.”
Bomi sniffed again like she was reinforcing the point.
Jeongguk rubbed his face tiredly. “I’m being emotionally punished by a baby.”
“You deserve it,” Jimin said easily.
Jeongguk gasped. “Whose side are you on?”
Jimin’s lips twitched. “The one who didn’t lie about something being quick.”
Jeongguk opened his mouth to argue but stopped when Bomi shifted slightly in his arms.
“Hey,” he said softly, hopeful. “Are you finally going to look at—”
She turned her face even further away.
Jeongguk groaned.
“She’s making it worse.”
Jimin laughed again, shoulders shaking slightly.
“Stop laughing,” Jeongguk said helplessly. “This is serious. She might actually hurt her neck.”
“Her neck will be fine.”
Jeongguk sighed and gently rubbed Bomi’s back.
“I’m really sorry,” he whispered again. “Papa messed up today. But I still love you so much.”
Bomi’s tiny fingers gripped his shirt.
But she still refused to look at him.
After another moment, Jeongguk suddenly leaned forward.
“Darling.”
“Yes?”
“Can we stop by the park?”
Jimin glanced at the mirror again. “The park?”
“Yeah,” Jeongguk said thoughtfully. “Maybe she just needs a change of scenery. Fresh air. New scents.”
He looked down at Bomi.
“Right now she probably smells nothing but our pheromones all mixed together,” he continued. “Maybe if we sit somewhere with other people around, different surroundings, different smells… she’ll calm down.”
Jimin considered it for a moment before nodding.
“That’s actually not a bad idea.”
Jeongguk brightened slightly. “Really?”
“Yeah. It might distract her.”
“Or at least give her new things to judge,” Jeongguk muttered.
Jimin laughed as he turned the car toward the nearby park.
A few minutes later they were sitting on a wooden bench beneath a wide tree, the late afternoon air was a little warm around them. Children were playing nearby, adults chatting on walking paths, the breeze carrying the mixed scents of grass, flowers, and food carts.
Jeongguk sat with Bomi in his lap, bouncing her gently.
“Look,” he said softly. “See all the people?”
Bomi’s eyes wandered around curiously.
For a brief moment, Jeongguk thought he had succeeded.
But the second he leaned slightly closer to her, she turned her face away again.
Jeongguk slumped.
“She’s stubborn.”
Jimin sat beside them, smiling fondly. “She knows what she’s doing.”
Jeongguk stared at Bomi thoughtfully.
Then he slowly looked at Jimin.
Then back at Bomi.
“…You know what?”
“What?” Jimin asked.
“This reminds me of you.”
Jimin blinked. “Excuse me?”
Jeongguk nodded firmly. “When you’re mad, you do the exact same thing.”
“I do not.”
“You absolutely do,” Jeongguk insisted. “You turn away, you huff, and you refuse to acknowledge me until I apologize at least a hundred times.”
Jimin crossed his arms. “That is not true.”
Bomi sniffed loudly and turned her face even further away from Jeongguk.
Jeongguk pointed at her triumphantly.
“See?”
Jimin tried to look offended, but the corners of his mouth started twitching.
“She did not get that from me.”
Jeongguk shook his head with full conviction.
“I cannot be convinced otherwise that Bomi got her attitude from you.”
Jimin gasped. “Jeon Jeongguk.”
“What?” Jeongguk said innocently.
Jimin leaned over and gently tapped Bomi’s cheek.
“Sweetheart,” he murmured softly. “Don’t listen to your Papa. You’re perfect.”
Bomi finally glanced at Jimin.
Then immediately went back to ignoring Jeongguk.
Jeongguk sighed dramatically again and leaned back against the bench.
“I’ve been replaced,” he muttered.
Jimin’s shoulders shook with laughter, and then rested his head on Jeongguk’s shoulder.
“She’ll forgive you eventually.”
Jeongguk looked down at their stubborn little pup and smiled despite himself.
“I hope so,” he said. “Because if she holds grudges like you, I might be in trouble.”
They stayed at the park for a while.
The afternoon sun was beginning to fade, lowering itself toward the edge of the world. The light changed into shades of gold and orange as it slipped behind the horizon, painting the sky in streaks of pink, amber, and fading blue.
People walked past occasionally. Joggers, parents with strollers, teenagers laughing over iced drinks. The air smelled like grass, and the sweetness of flowers planted along the path.
It was exactly what Jeongguk had hoped for.
New scents. New surroundings. Something that might distract their very stubborn pup.
But Bomi was… committed to the bit.
She was sitting on Jeongguk’s lap, small hands gripping the fabric of his shirt, while her neck remained stubbornly turned away from him like she had sworn a personal oath never to look at her father again.
Jeongguk glanced down at her.
Then at Jimin.
Then back at her.
“Bomi,” he said gently.
Nothing.
“Baby.”
Still nothing.
She was staring very intently at a random bush across the path as if it had suddenly become the most fascinating thing in the entire world.
Jeongguk sighed.
“You know I can see your eyes moving,” he muttered.
Jimin snorted beside him.
Jeongguk shifted slightly, adjusting Bomi in his arms.
“Sweetheart,” he tried again, voice soft and pleading now. “Are you really going to stay mad at Papa forever?”
Bomi sniffed.
Her tiny fingers tightened on his shirt.
But she still refused to look at him.
Jeongguk leaned his head back against the bench with a dramatic groan.
“This is emotional warfare.”
Jimin laughed again, resting his chin on his hand as he watched the scene.
“You’re losing to someone who can’t even form a full sentence yet.”
“That’s what makes it worse,” Jeongguk mumbled.
He looked down at Bomi again.
Her cheeks were still slightly pink from her earlier crying, her lips still pouty.
And yet she looked so unbelievably cute that Jeongguk couldn’t even take her anger seriously.
“Okay,” he said after a moment, sitting up straighter. “New strategy.”
Jimin glanced at him curiously. “Oh?”
Jeongguk cleared his throat dramatically.
“Bomi,” he announced, like he was addressing a tiny council leader. “I would like to formally apologize.”
Jimin covered his mouth to stop himself from laughing.
Jeongguk continued solemnly.
“Earlier today, Papa made a poor decision. I understand why you’re upset and you have every right to be.”
Bomi’s little eyebrow twitched.
That was progress.
Jeongguk leaned slightly closer, careful not to invade her personal bubble too suddenly.
“I also understand that you waited a long time,” he added. “And that probably made you sad.”
Bomi’s fingers loosened slightly on his shirt.
“But I promise,” Jeongguk continued earnestly, “that Papa loves you very, very much. And I would never leave you on purpose.”
There was a long pause.
Bomi’s eyes slowly drifted toward him.
Just a little.
Not fully.
But enough that Jeongguk noticed.
His entire face lit up.
“Jimin,” he whispered urgently. “She looked at me.”
“I saw,” Jimin murmured, amused.
Encouraged, Jeongguk continued.
“And as part of this apology,” he said, lowering his voice like he was about to reveal a very important secret, “I would like to formally present… a compensation package.”
Jimin raised an eyebrow, clearly entertained already. “A compensation package?”
Jeongguk nodded with exaggerated seriousness, like this was the most professional conversation he had ever had in his life.
“Yes. A very generous one.”
He leaned closer to Bomi again, bringing a hand up to the side of his mouth as if he needed to whisper something extremely confidential.
“How would you feel,” he murmured dramatically, “about a very exclusive offer that includes extra cuddle time tonight, unlimited lullabies, and—” he paused for effect, glancing briefly at Jimin before dropping his voice even more, “—a special bonus feature where I do that ridiculous dance that always makes you laugh.”
Jimin immediately snorted. “Ridiculous dance?”
Jeongguk straightened a little, offended. “Excuse you. It is not ridiculous. It is a highly advanced entertainment service specifically designed for babies.”
“Right,” Jimin muttered under his breath.
Jeongguk ignored him completely and continued speaking to Bomi with the same dramatic seriousness.
“And if you accept this offer,” he added, tapping his chest proudly, “I will also personally provide the ‘airplane ride around the living room’ experience before bedtime. Very premium. Very exclusive.”
Jimin let out a laugh, nudging his shoulder. “You’re unbelievable.”
But Jeongguk only looked back at Bomi expectantly, eyes hopeful, waiting for her tiny, very important decision.
Bomi blinked slowly.
Her head turned a tiny bit more toward him.
Jeongguk gasped.
“It’s working.”
Jimin shook his head fondly.
Jeongguk gently bounced her on his knee.
“And maybe,” he continued thoughtfully, “we could also include one extra bedtime story.”
Bomi stared at him now.
Actually stared.
Her big round eyes fixed on his face.
Jeongguk froze like he had just spotted a rare animal.
“Jimin,” he whispered again. “Eye contact has been established.”
Jimin chuckled softly. “Don’t scare her.”
Jeongguk swallowed his excitement and softened his voice again.
“And,” he added carefully, “Papa will also allow unlimited cheek kisses.”
Bomi blinked.
Then she slowly reached out and grabbed a handful of his shirt again.
Jeongguk’s shoulders relaxed instantly.
“Oh thank god,” he breathed.
Jimin laughed. “You sound like you just survived something.”
“I did,” Jeongguk said dramatically. “I was emotionally exiled.”
Bomi studied his face for another moment.
Then, very suddenly—
She smacked his chin.
Not hard.
Just a tiny baby slap.
But it was clearly intentional.
Jeongguk stared at her in shock.
“…Was that forgiveness?”
Jimin burst out laughing.
“I think that was her telling you she’s still a little mad.”
Jeongguk looked down at Bomi again.
“You’re unbelievable,” he told her softly.
Bomi’s lips twitched.
And then she did the thing that completely melted him.
She leaned forward.
And buried her face into his neck again.
This time, it wasn’t to investigate or complain.
It was to cuddle.
Jeongguk immediately wrapped his arms around her, holding her close and pressing a kiss to her hair.
“There’s my baby,” he murmured warmly. “Papa missed you too.”
Bomi made a soft, content little noise.
Jimin smiled as he watched them.
“Looks like you’re forgiven.”
Jeongguk rubbed Bomi’s back, rocking her a little.
“Barely,” he said. “I’m still on probation.”
Jimin nudged his shoulder. “Next time don’t lie about something being quick.”
Jeongguk groaned.
“You’re never going to let that go, are you?”
“Never,” Jimin said cheerfully.
Bomi peeked up at Jeongguk again.
Jeongguk smiled at her.
And this time, she smiled back.