Bangtan Baby~ Ch.5

Summary: I'm young, with a full life ahead of me... And seven famed idols as roomates. And a baby.

Genre: Comedy, Friendship

Rating: 16+ (some language and adult themes)

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Heheh. Heheheheheheh. Oh, haven't you noticed? I'm feelin' pretty good right now. Here to shamelessly promote my other story, that was recently published. It's called Sticks. Stones. Stilettos.

Mwahahahah. It's a mafia AU. GOT7 and BTS. Go for it, *cackling in the background*, I dare you. It has its own collection.

Now that the shameless promotion is out of the way, please enjoy the next installment of this story (which I plan to continuously update regardless of my other fic).

Sorry if the updates seem slow, I am in the process of moving to live alone like an adult for once. Tough stuff, man, never grow up. It's a trap.

Please enjoy the Jimin chapter!

After I hung up with my mom, I found myself staring down at the remains of my breakfast. The white noise around me had slowly faded back into the rambunctious laughter and jeers of the boys competing to eat the fastest. I don't know why I was so distraught. I hadn't seen my father since my parents divorced, back when I was a little tot. I didn't even remember his face, aside from the studded blue ring he always wore around his left middle finger.

Why remember that? I dunno; as a kid, I probably thought something as shiny as that was the most appealing thing about him. I stood up, forgoing my plate and leftovers, moving away from the noise. I didn't feel like talking, but as I caught Jimin's eyes, who had noticed me leave first, I said, "I don't feel so good. I'm going to go lay down."

My words were met with a concerned shift of his features, and I brought the back of my hand to my head to emphasize what I meant. I smiled softly, reassuring him in silence, and then turned to pad down the hall, disappearing into my room.


The next few hours I spent on my back, fingers drumming my stomach lightly as I continuously thought over what my mother had said. He'd had a heart attack, which wasn't uncommon for his age. Calling it worry would take it too far. For my standards, I have to be close to someone, share some emotional bond with them, to actually feel worried. My dad and I weren't even remotely close. I talked to him like I'd talk to my grade school classmates after years of being apart; how's it going, how's it been, are you living comfortably, etc. Stuff like that over email, every few months. It just felt like having an occasional pen pal.

I sighed, conflicted; the moral side of me wanted to go and visit him in the hospital, while my careless piece of mind begged me to stay in bed all day. My lip was caught between my teeth, toying it as I mindlessly twiddled my thumbs and thought over my options again and again.

"Rei?" A voice outside my door. I leaned up, elbows supporting me against the bed. It was Jimin. He probably came to check on me. I didn't bother standing up, rather resorting to beckoning him in on his own.

He walked in with the same face of concern he sported earlier, shutting the door behind him as his gaze travelled up to meet my curious eyes. "Everything good?" He finally asked, and I motioned him to sit on the end of my bed. I laid back down fingers lacing behind my head as I quirked a lip and wondered how to answer him.

"For now, yeah." He looked puzzled by my response, and I only then remembered I had feigned not feeling well earlier. "Just had a headache." His mouth formed an 'o' and he looked around my plain room quietly, then turning back to me, disbelief in his eyes.

"Just a headache?" I sat up and pulled my knees to my chest, pondering whether I should just tell him the truth. The only thing holding me back was he'd worry about it. But he wouldn't understand; none of them would. So far as I knew, all of the boys grew up with a father in the picture. They would all tell me to go and visit, because it's what they would do. But I wasn't like them.

I caved after he patted my socked foot, a pleading glint in his orbs. "My mom called me during breakfast." Revelation passed over his features, and I gently shooed his hand away from my toes.

"That's who you were on the phone with? I couldn't hear you over everyone else." Ohhhh, so he had noticed me on the phone. Haha, I wonder what sort of expression I was making. I figured they were too absorbed in their antics to notice— in which I sort of didn't want them to notice at all. But I suppose he'd been attentive at the time. Jimin then had a 'go on' kind of expression, lip pouting a bit, so I did.

"She called to tell me my dad is in the hospital back in the states." I expected the face of surprise, shock, then sympathy, but not the crushing embrace he had me in within seconds.

"It's okay, it'll all be okay!"

"CHRIST- Ji-*cough* MIN!" I retaliated by tapping out on his back, fervently, nearly dying in the process. He let go with an apology, but his eyes were still so sad. Why, Jimin? Why?

"Reina, I am so sorry to hear that. And we were acting like fools during that phone call... I'm going to tell the others." He stood up, and my eyes widened. I reached forward and grasped his bicep— squeezing it was unintentional— and held him in place. "Jimin, really it's not necessary. Bringing them in here to apologize for their completely NORMAL behavior doesn't help my father."

He frowned, clutching my palm around his tastefully thick muscle, settling back down onto the bed. A sincere look in his eyes, he said, "But I want it to help you... You just looked so... stony earlier. I've never seen you so lifeless." He looked like it still wasn't the word he had in mind, but the sincerity of it tugged ever so gently at my heart, so I released my hand and sighed, head going back to my pillow.

I assumed he'd gone off and told them what was happening, which I still didn't grasp why it was such a big deal everyone had to know. The surprising bit, though; no one had yet come barging into my room.

No one. Nada single man-child. Not even JHope, who I'm sure would have tears in his eyes. Nope.

I read in silence until evening came around and my stomach released an intimidating noise. No, it wasn't the baby, not yet at least. I stood, stretched my stiff limbs, and crossed the floor without sound; my socks padding so quietly, no one would've guessed I actually gained four pounds after my pregnancy term began.

And when I opened the door— it all came crashing down. They, rather, all came... crashing down. An explosion of limbs, strings of obscenities and ows, and many, many, boy-on-boy actions.

"Taehyung how the hell are you actually heavier than Jin?"

"Whose armpit *BLECH* can smell this bad?!"

"Something is inside of me."

"It's only my foot Jungkook, don't worry."

My first move was to laugh, then leap over them as they scrambled to peel from one another. "Idiots." I called over my shoulder. "You could've just knocked. Waiting out there while feeling up my door was a bit excessive."

They groaned after my remark, and I laughed again.

"Guys I thought you said she would be depressed and crying with snot everywhere and a tub of icecream. After all you did say her dad is—" I raised a brow towards the maknae, and the other six hurriedly shushed him until his face was mushed around and covered with hands.

"You doing okay?" Namjoon stood, face straight as he looked down at me.

"Peachy." I exclaimed with a nod, a small smile on my face as I reached up and fixed his blueberry hair. They care so much. I cannot even comprehend it now. Perhaps I'm finally losing my mind. Then, they all stood before me in a half-circle.

"Jimin told us about what happened..." Jungkook.

"We're really sorry we didn't notice," Hoseok.

"Shutting yourself away makes us feel bad," Jin.

"You have the right to tell us to quiet down," Suga.

"Does this mean the baby will be depressed and die of sadness?"

"Jesus Christ, Taehyung." I laughed. They all seemed in better spirits because I was smiling, so I kept at it. "I really appreciate all you guys do for me, and how much you care. But I'm really fine! There's nothing that could've changed what happened. So don't worry about me... and enough with preying outside my door like creepers."

"Minecraft is my favorite video game."

"Thank you, Tae, for your wonderful insight... but I'm really, really okay! And I'd feel better if you treated me normally instead of expecting me to be so depressed over this. What the hell do you take me for?"

My voice had risen like I was telling a glorified folk tale, and the boys began taking to my heightened spirits, surrounding me and simultaneously saying stuff like, "The best Reina Mei!", "Cool eighth member!", and "Preggy!".

They gathered around me, a group hug ensuing. Through it all, it felt like a cliché movie, where the protagonist faces some emotional barrier and her friends help her through it.

"Jimin, hands off my ass."

"Sorry, sorry."

Grossly cliché, but the scene did justice to my conflicted thoughts. In that moment, I decided, yes, I'll go to the United States like my moral side wants me to. That way I can hopefully make my father feel the same way I felt in that hug; like someone always cared for me.

"So when are you leaving?" Jungkook questioned, somewhere beneath Jin.

"Thursday might be best. So that leaves tomorrow available to pack and get my plane ticket in order. It'll feel a little lonely without you all there, though." I admitted, patting someone's ticklish lower back.

"Oh! I have an idea!"

We had all started pulling away then, looking at JHope. His eyes were glinting brightly, so it must've been a damned exciting idea. What, like throw a send-away party for a week of absence? Maybe they'll take time out of the dance studio to bake a cake. I'd love to see that—

"Let's go with you!"



Oh? OH.

I'd take their offer, have their plane tickets paid, pack their luggage, and prepare matching pajamas for us all in a heartbeat.

However, I am not the mystical Reina Mei.

Haha, my dear Cosmos~













Thank you for reading, and stay tuned for the next one~!

I like cats. And learning new things. And cats learning new things.
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