Banana Milk - Tumblr Posts

banana milk - j.jungkook

pairings: reader x jungkook, established relationship!au

word count: 1.4k

content: angst to fluff, a couple fight :(

warnings: a couple fight, angst

summary: a fight between you and jungkook leads you to the convenience store, which leads to banana milk. [ lowercase intended! ]

( note: please do not plagiarise my work! )

‘i’m sorry.i didn’t mean that.’

too late. it was already said. they splintered through your heart and mind and made your ears ring. something about those words he’d uttered, the tone he’d used, drove you to breaking point.

you didn’t hear what he was saying, pleadingly, as you unhooked your coat from beside the door and slid it on, angrily snatching the house keys and your phone from the pocket, teeth gritted.

you felt him grab your arm, just before you could step outside. it was a firm movement, and while usually, his touch would make you feel comforted, right now, his hand burned your skin.

‘y/n, listen to me, i’m sorry, i didn’t mean—,’

Keep reading

01.10.2021

I haven't made the October spread yet hehehehe. Sorry. So these are old pictures.

School doodles B]

7:58pm

When babysitting time almost ends prematurely ;) Based on the Drabble Request:

#14 “how am i supposed to know you put a banana in your pocket?”

Word Count: 2k

A/N: For the anon that said ‘Oh my god 😂😂😂😂😂 #14 and jungkook bls crackety crack crack that newborn chickies would be jealous 😂😂😂😂’, I don’t even know what you meant but I love it and enjoy, Mimi x

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You’re completely fucking neck deep.

And you wished you could say that in any other way than the one you mean. Like neck deep in a steamy bath with salts and candles and the smelly shit Jungkook uses after the gym because it’s a home smell. Or like neck deep on your couch with records soothing the ears and some kind of fried dish sizzling on your cooker. Fuck, like neck deep in the smell of sex as someone pile dri-

“Y/N, Y/N, Y/N! I- er- can’t reach the bathroom door thingy!” 

Nah. 

You’re neck deep in the stress of your two nephews and niece. 

“Yeh, Jae, just give it a big push and it’ll open.” 

“Mmm, tried that!” he’s pouting but still finds the energy to contradict his face by skipping around your legs. 

“Fine. Bathroom door here we come!” But you’re in no way enthusiastic. 

Yoongi, on the pretence that these are in fact his children, would say they’re beautifully brimming with life, immature and youthful in the sweet kind of way, the apples to his eye, the stars to his fucking moon. You’re brother turned real sappy over the course of fatherhood. And to be honest, you’d liked them, at first, when they couldn’t talk, when they didn’t all start dressing the same and you could tell one apart from the other, when you didn’t have to face them alone and without the extra strong arms of your boyfriend.

Yet you find yourself into the fourth hour of damage control to your apartment and toilet brakes consistent with that of an elderly woman with pelvic floor dysfunction.

Jungkook’s better at this than you. He has the ability to reinvigorate his childhood self and channel it all in babysitting days. That and he stashes banana milk to the brim and out of your reach in the top cupboard just so he can retrieve it and play ‘fun uncle Kook’. He’ll say it’s just because he loves banana milk and to be honest, you can’t really argue with that. 

And, shit, you miss him.

“Auntie Y/N.” Her voice is sweet but you see the glint of the devil in her eye, you swear. 

“Yes, Mai.”

“Daddy makes me hot chocolate before bed, and bedtimes almost here.” You frown deep. Yoongi almost definitely doesn’t make them hot chocolate because Sannie has a nut allergy, but how can you tell a child she’s lying. 

“And auntie Y/N.” She strings it out like it’s honey and silk and fuck does it work.

“Yes Mai?”

“I think Jae’s locked himself in the toilet.” 

Fuck! Damn children and their short arms that can’t reach over their heads!

The girl in the plaid pyjamas, watching on amused as you scramble for the bathroom, has more sense than you’ll ever have at 8pm. It’s sad, but sadder when the door creaks and reveals first a sniffle and then an all out sob before the small bundle curls into one of your legs. You’re wearing jeans, but he hugs you like you’re soft and comforting. It kind of thins your edges a bit and you scoop him up in no time, because babysitting is a bitch, but you’re not.

“Oh bubby, did you get yourself trapped in the toilet.”

“Mmm,” a sleeve covered tiny fist rubs at his eyes, and he gives a tinier nod before he flops down into your neck. 

You pace the apartment with shuffled walks, an attempt to soothe the dying hiccups on your shoulder, and find a spot in behind the sofa to watch on as the other two make a plaything out of Jungkook’s exercise band. You should have the sense to tell them to be careful but every time Sannie pulls one end, Mai pulls the other and then Mai, the 5 minute older triplet that she is, sends San flying, is just a bit too good to distract them from. 

It’s a shame the sound of keys and the hallway light has to disturb the ‘peace’. 

“What do we have here!” 

Jae shifts at the same time as you to spare a glance at the man in the doorway. Business casual, because it’s a Friday, looks good on him, and the smile he adorns when the first two bound up and at him with speed looks even better. 

“Uncle Kook!”

“Sannie!” He throws San over one shoulder.

“Uncle Kookkkk!”

And pushes a fist out to the other. 

“Mai my bro, how we chillin.” 

Her tiny fist meets his before pulling back in a fake explosion. You don’t know when the tradition started, why Jungkook thinks it’s appropriate, but because she replies with a small, “peachy, Kookie, peachy,” you might just have to smile and feign sensibility. 

Your early day perception of Jungkook definitely didn’t pip him as one for children, to the extent you genuinely thought he was scared of them. But then he cried when Yoongi announced his girlfriends pregnancy, cried harder when three munchkins were born, and forever since has lived up to the job of ‘best uncle’ despite having 5 others to contend with. Your brother and him were stunningly close like that. It’s how you and Jungkook had met. And now you’ve come to love the 8pm deadline, rather than 10:30, he’s set out of his training session, because now you get to share the wonder that is your boyfriend with three tiny faces. You almost think they adore him as much as you. Almost.

“And what’s up with this little champ ey?”

You give him a gentle shake to rouse him, then he finds your eyes, then Jungkook’s and finally throws two chubby arms in his direction even though Kook already had his hug ready and waiting. Your boyfriends probably sweaty, but the boy pays no mind and finds his peace between shoulder and neck. Jungkook turns your way.

“Hey you,” his eyes glint like that when he misses you. Maybe you blush. 

“Hey you.” 

“Why is the bread baby crying?” Jae’s got rolls for days, arms, legs, hands and feet just round and pure squish and you know it’s because Yoongi can’t say no to him like he can the others.  

“He couldn’t get out of the bathroom.” 

There’s a bottle of protein shake on the side that you’d readied in preparation for Jungkook’s appearance, and he takes it gladly in one hand whilst balancing Jae, impressively on the other. 

“Macho man!” Jae perks his head up a bit at the nickname, eyes a little more alive than when they were puffy, “you gotta start doing your morning stretches like I said. Those arms aren’t gonna grow themselves,” the shit he spouts sometimes you swear-

“I know, uncle Kook, I’ll try, but- but- but, maybe you and auntie Y/N could make another door, a little smaller, fo-for me.” It’s a cute enough statement that you keen, Jungkook too, and you both share a look of despair at the blubbering stutter of baby that is your nephew. 

“I’ll see what I can do for you champ,” and finally Jungkook and his arms are set free, Jae shuffling small steps across the wooden floor with his penguin socks loose and giving you a final moment of broodiness. 

You distract the impending coo you were going to let off in favour of picking up the remnants of dinner, which turned to playtime, as tomatoes and carrots line the cracks in your floor. 

Jungkook’s got a sweaty hand on your neck though, needing stress and the evenings memories away for a few brief seconds. He’s got those kinds of hands. The ones you can talk about for hours because they’re strong, fucking pretty, do glorious things in glorious places and dirty things in others. His hand drops though before babysitting time ends prematurely. Yoongi doesn’t get back until tomorrow morning, so even a wisp of a thought of that man behind you and how he’s definitely sweaty and definitely a feast, is gone, poof, dissipated. 

“How’ve they been? Rough work again?”

“Mmm, of course,” you take a note the bin needs to be taken out as you chuck the last remaining pieces away. 

“Come on, they’re not that bad.” You’re ready to tell him to go suck one and try and do it by himself, but there’s hands on your hips, warm, sweaty, soothing, and a dick against your ass...hard.

“Jungkook!”

“What, they’re really alri-”

“The fuck are you doing the triplets are literally there,” his lips pull back from where they had settled on your neck. 

“D’you mean, I’m not doing anything.” He’s high pitched like he doesn’t know his dicks up your ass, so you scoff. 

“What are you hard for, you mong,” but you go to push him away, arm behind your back, firm to his hip, yet your hand meets something harder than his abs - he works out, but not enough to make him that solid - and definitely a different shap to how his cock normally feels - and you’ve felt him up enough times to know. “And why is your boner shaped like that?”

“Boner, I’m not ev-”

You spin, eye his botched erection, and dip a hand to his pocket. He looks at you, shocked, puzzled, and suddenly you’re prematurely plunging into your grave in the shame of thinking what you were thinking. 

“Wait, did you think this was my d-i-c-k!” 

He waves it, his choked laugh too, in your face. You’re red, and probably crying, but your cheeks are so hot with embarrassment you don’t know.

“How was I supposed to know you had a banana in your pocket!”

He laughs fully enough that the kids seek out it’s source. 

“Uncle Kook, uncle Kook, can I have a bite?”

He gives her the whole thing, still staring at you with teeth on show, a story to tell Yoongi, and one final blow to the shit show that is your life,

“Mai.”

“Yes uncle Kook.”

“Tell auntie Y/N she’s nasty.” 

And when nasty is a whole other word for a child, Mai proceeds unphased, probably believing in the sentiment of the statement. 

“Auntie Y/N.”

“Yes Mai.”

“You’re nasty.”

...Fuck.

Okay, but in a kpop reference, replace them with Jungkook sipping his banana milk

Marauders: *sipping their chocolate milks*

Sirius: We really are a bad boy gang