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softlyjiminie · 4 years

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nine months from now | m.y.g

⇢ pairing(s): boss!min yoongi x reader, mentions of vmin + namjin.

⇢ word count: 16.5K.

⇢ rating: 18+, mature.

⇢ genre: smut, angst, fluff, un-expecting parents!au, parents!au.

⇢ summary: his was not supposed to happen. this was never in the plan. a sudden, unexpected turn of events leads you into a world of baby bottles and baby grows, it just so happens that the cause of this mess is your boss...min yoongi.

⇢ warning(s): please read! mentions of infidelity, insecurity, unexpected pregnancy, light!description of birth ( pain, water breaking ), soft smut, dom!yoongi, sub!reader, unprotected sex ( please wear protection ), mentions of one night stands, mentions of drunk sex, phone sex, oral sex ( female receiving ), masturbation ( male + female ) , light!praise kink, pregnancy kink, daddy kink, dirty talk and swearing.

⇢ author’s note(s): hey everyone! this is a kinda late birthday fic for our wonderful boy min yoongi! i love parent aus and i just got to thinking about how yoongi would be the most amazing dad and boom dis bad boy popped out. I hope you enjoy reading and as always, feedback is greatly appreciated!! also thank you to my wonderful gigi ( @fantasybangtan ) for this beautiful banner, love you so much :(

one month. two blue lines.

this was not supposed to happen. this was never in the plan. you were supposed to work your ass off, show off your skills, get promoted and live a comfortable life. there was no time in your plan for this.

no time in your plan for a baby.

you feel as if the whole world has been drained away as you sit on the edge of your bath tub, your chest rising and falling with panic —you hadn’t even noticed, not until it was too late. your period had always been irregular, is it was easy for you to miss the signs. it couldn’t be happening. it can’t be happening. “how can this be happening?” you whisper to yourself, the lump in your throat makes your voice sound hoarse and weak.

“well, when two very special people love each other..” your roommate, yura, begun as she rests her head on your shoulder and grabs your trembling hand. she had always been a joker, much to the chargen of your half brother, seokjin.

“she knows how it works, yura! it’s the sex that got her there!” your sibling yells, crossing his arms over his chest and looking down at you with a scolding disappointment. you’d never seen him so angry before, face red and the vein in his neck on the verge of bursting. you could tell he was trying to reign in his temper and you knew it was more than just rage he was feeling. seokjin had never known his farther, your mother was too ashamed to ever tell him and so he spent most of his life living with a hole in his heart. “do you even know who the father is?”

you flinch at his sharp tone, knowing it was only his self inflicted conflict that was so venomous. yura’s head snaps up to glare at seokjin, lips parted in shock at he continues his rant. “how irresponsible could you be, YN? getting pregnant at this time in your career, how could you be so stupid?”

“seokjin, enough!” yura snaps furiously, standing up with her hands resting comfortingly on your shoulders. she stares him down, rendering him silent and huffs. “YN is a grown woman...twenty-four years of age, meaning, you can’t scold her like a child anymore. it’s her body, her life and she’ll do as she damn well pleases. “

the sounds of their voices fade to nothing but static as they bicker back and forth about you. it’s almost as if you’re not even there, mind a million miles away. the mere thought of a life growing inside you has you spiralling and it’s not until seokjin puts a hand on your shoulder, that you look up.

“do...you know who the father is?” yura asks you quietly and avoids your gaze at his flits between hers and seokjin’s face.

“i do,” you twiddle your thumbs nervously, thinking back to the only occasion you can remember. you rub your eyes as they slowly begin to water, your brother and best friend nuzzling into you to help calm your nerves. “i know exactly who it is.”

seokjin and yura share a look, worried for the name about to pass your lips.

three months.

the walk to the top office is a brisk and daunting one. thousands of scenarios occupy your mind but you remember your brother’s advice and try to keep a steady head. you relax your stance as the elevator doors close in front of you, letting out a breath you hadn’t realised you were holding. a hand comes to rest on your lower stomach, reaching for the bump that was barely visible.

you’d been to various different appointments over the last few weeks, blood tests, ultra-sounds and a paternity test. groaning, you remember the face of the assistant, her pointed nose tilted up in disgust when you begged her for any disgarded coffee cups the executive had lying around. all you needed was the tiniest trace of saliva to confirm your suspicions.

reaching your desired floor, you step out of the lift, and the sudden feeling of exposure crawls up your spine. patent heels click and clack against the smooth marble floor as you head to the front office. the light shines through the glass panes but it doesn’t lift your somber mood.

“i have an appointment with the executive?” you smile politely to the receptionist behind the desk and hand over your ID badge. she’s surprised, to say the least, when she checks it over and you can tell she’s unsure of how someone of your position would get an appointment on such short notice.

she lets you through regardless, mentioning to the executive that you’ll be up soon and too expect you. your once calm and collected walk is now weak and wobbly at your ankles, you shake as you knock on the door and quiver when a deep voice beckons you in.

the room is bright, illuminated by natural light that shines through the glass panes directly onto the office. it’s sleek, black accents run through out the room with shades of whites and yellows and greys for contrast. a long desk, also black in colour, sits in the middle of the room, in front of the largest window that looks out onto the busy streets of seoul. you wonder if people ever look up and try to imagine what would happen in a room like this. the though of what’s about to happen sends chills down your spine.

your patent heels sink into the carpeted floor, the softness and uneven ground do nothing to help your quaking knees.

MR. MIN YOONGI

the letters are engraved into the golden placement with thick, bold letters and reading it makes your heart race. the man himself is oblivious to your entrance, once deep red and burgundy hair having faded into his natural jet black roots. he wears a navy suit, tailored perfectly to fit his shoulders and his tie sits promptly around his neck, not a hair is out of place.

he hadn’t always been this perfect, you of all people would’ve known that. min yoongi was notorious in your company for his simple two step manoeuvre; flirting and fucking. whilst you had yet to fall victim to his charms, you knew to steer clear of him at company parties. yoongi had been a simple project manager at the daegu branch of your company, The Red Label, an up and coming fashion brand in south korea— before being unexpectedly promoted to executive to the seoul branch. you heard the last one had quit from heart break caused by the man himself.

you, yourself were a new fashion designer, fresh out of college when you joined. you were happy to say that your designs had been worn by many idols since you started your job, including the infamous jeon jungkook.

you remember meeting yoongi at the annual anniversary party, drunk memories of the night suddenly becoming more and more clear.

“yes?” he asks, looking up from his papers with a thin-lipped smile. he’s trying to be polite, you can tell, but you hate the way his black eyes watch you with discontent. you doubt he recognises you, remembers what went down a few months back.

“hi...” you breathe, the anxiety from your thoughts rushing in. yoongi simply stares you down, his dark eyes watching as you shuffle under his gaze. he leans back in his desk chair, boredom etched into his features.

“look ms. kim, i’m a busy man and have plenty of meetings to attend to today... so id prefer it if you didn’t go wasting my time.”

heat flushes through your veins and tingles at your fingertips, the words you had chanted to yourself in the mirror as practice have suddenly gone astray. you look to yoongi, his impatient stare boring holes into your very soul and you can tell he’s growing irritable.

yoongi opens his mouth again to start a simple attack. “as i have stated already, ms. kim, i am a busy man with many duties to attend to today, so if you don’t mind-“

you hate this, you hate him. you hate how he thinks he can talk to you like you’re beneath him. especially after what he did to you.

“i’m pregnant.” you blurt out, your rigid frame becoming lax as you realise what you’ve done. you watch as yoongi’s face contorts with confusion, what does this have to do with him? he must me thinking.

“why-?”

“it’s your child,” you snap back, suddenly gaining the roaring confidence seokjin had instilled in you many years ago. you march your way over to his desk, slapping down a file of all the tests you’d gotten, this paternity test with his DNA and his name in thick bold letters standing out on the white pages. “the documents are all here, if you don’t believe me.”

the colour drains from yoongi’s face as he realises the severity behind his once careless actions, he never thought this would happen, he always thought he’d been, “safe? didn’t we use a condom?” he mumbles quietly, embarrassed and ashamed.

“you insisted that we didn’t need one, you were too intent on getting your congratulations for your recent promotion.” you explain curtly, wrapping an arm protectively around your stomach.

it was only then that yoongi noticed, the small curve of your stomach that was carrying a life that he had helped to make. whether he wanted it or not, yoongi was going to be a father and he could tell by the fire in your eyes that you were going to do everything in your power to provide for this child.

he sits back in his chair and runs a hand over his face, letting it cup his chin as he thinks. “okay....okay, fuck. what do we do now?”

“well, i...” you hesitate, opening your mouth in a silent gasp. you step back from the desk and start to twiddle with your thumbs as you huff, nervous. “i don’t want this baby, my baby to grow up without a father. i’ve seen first hand how painful that can be. i also understand that, considering our circumstances, it might not be the best idea but i still believe you should take responsibility of a father and help look after them as well.”

your answer is thoughtful, none of your words are fuelled by malicious intent. you want the best for the baby, your baby, his baby. yoongi’s heart clenches in his chest, his baby.

“when’s your next appointment?” he asks in a whisper, a million and one thoughts rushing through his head at once. you look surprised, expecting yoongi to try and pay you off and keep quiet.

“next monday.”

“good, i’ll be there.”

three months, one week.

“is there any particular reason in which you’re not letting me attend today?” your brother hums, your only thought from then is to only roll your eyes as you pack your bag. phone, keys, purse. seokjin watches as you flutter about, fluffing your hair and straightening the sweater you wear, so it sits over your small bump just fine.

shaking your head, you attempt to hide the nerves that crawl up your throat in fear of spewing them all out onto the floor. you’d blame it on early morning sickness. your older brother eyes you suspiciously, dark brow arched perfectly as a finger rests on his top lip. he knows you like the back of his hand, everything there is to know about you. he knew you were excitable when it came to things like new music or watching re-runs of americas next top model. he knew you were shy with physical contact and intimacy. he knew that sometimes you got so anxious and scared, especially with deadlines that your words became jumbled up and you’d forget your name.

he knew why you were being so quiet today.

you ignored him nonetheless, looking ever so slightly flustered once you’d finished getting yourself ready. you hadn’t felt this way since you’d submitted your first design to the Red Label.

“are you sure? i know you hate all the machines and the gel the put on your tummy-“ the elder rambled and watched you collapse onto the couch beside him, you clasp your hands over his knee and sigh at him. clearly exhasperated.

“yoongi is coming,” you grumble eventually, curling in on yourself with a large pout. seokjin narrows his eyes, ever since finding out and confirming that yoongi was the father, he had been far from happy. seokjin remembered referring to the man as a pompous piece of poop, except more foul language was used. “i know you don’t like him, but we decided to try this co-parent thing? i’m just nervous that he’ll want to drop out as soon as he sees the baby-“

frowning, your brother shuffles over to you and presses a light kiss to your forehead as an attempt to comfort you. “and if he does, we’ll figure it out together. promise.”

you nod in affirmation, leaning into seokjin’s touch. he gets up to check the door a while later, calling out for you confusedly. “YN, there’s someone here to see you?”

following his voice, you find yourself side by side with your brother, facing a man about your age if not younger. he’s dressed formally, in a black suit and white shirt, a bow tie around his neck. he offers you a boxy grin and you frown.

“who are you?”

“ah, you must be YN.”

“yes, she is, but who are you?” seokjin cuts in before you can open your mouth, moving stand protectively in front of yourself and the baby. confused, you’re eyes widen and you shuffle back in the doorway to protect yourself further.

the man’s enthusiastic grin drops slightly as he readjusts his tie, coughing and holding his hand out to your older sibling. “taehyung, kim taehyung...” he introduces himself and falters when seokjin doesn’t take his hand. “i’m mr min’s driver, he sent me to collect ms. kim for her appointment today.”

“driver? collect my sister? why i oughta-“

you set a palm on your brother’s chest and push him back lightly, smiling at taehyung as you do so. “jinnie,” you warm him and ignore his angry stare before addressing the driver. “i’ll be ready in a moment, taehyung.”

quickly, you run back into the apartment to grab your bag and coat, returning fully dressed and ready to go. taehyung is already waiting with the door open by the car outside. you turn to your brother and hum. “i’m mad at him too, for sending a driver, but at least let me rip him a new one myself.” you say, breathlessly.

“with pleasure.”

“a driver, really, min yoongi?”

you storm past the man himself, anger flaring up within you at just the sight of his stupid designer suit and stupid pointed leather shoes that were probably imported from italy. he‘s a stupid man. who even wears a suit to a hospital appointment?

yoongi stands flabbergasted, hands up in defence whilst taehyung only shrugs his shoulders and mentions he’ll be parked in the private area. the executive quickly follows you, surprised that you can even walk that fast with growing life inside of you and bends over with palms on his knees when you stop at the receptionist desk.

“i didn’t think it was smart of me to delay the appointment by meeting you at your own home, ms. kim.”

rolling your eyes, you lean up to the receptionist, ignoring the way your name rolls so greasily off of yoongi’s tongue. “appointment for YN kim? 2:30.” you beam down at the man behind the desk, who’s eyes light up when they notice you.

“YN! lovely to see you again, you’re right on time!” he hums and checks you in on the computer as you spare a quick glare to the man behind you. the receptionist follows your gaze and leans in to whisper. “is this the baby father?”

a light chuckle wafts past your lips and you nod as you tie the appointment slip from him. “why yes hoseok, he is.”

“how unfortunate that his personality doesn’t match his looks.”

you giggle and bid hoseok goodbye, walking down the hall to your doctors office for your ultrasound. yoongi mostly follows and stays quiet, sensing the anger and resentment you have for him, building. he sighs in the waiting room, knowing that he has to find some way to get a long with you and change your impression of him for the sake of his child.

“miss kim for her ultrasound? oh and is that dad?” your doctor asks as she leads you into the room, helping you onto the bed and allowing you to push up your jumper for the jelly. yoongi feels a pang of guilt resonating in his chest, knowing that he should be the one helping you, but stands awkwardly to the side nonetheless.

shuffling up on the seat, you look to yoongi expectantly to introduce himself and he jumps up, fixing his suit as he leans forward to take the doctor’s hand. “min yoongi...uh... dad.”

“dr park, or you can call me dr jihyo,” she smiles, getting ready to apply the jelly to your stomach. “you know the drill YN, it might be a little cold,” yoongi watches quietly as you nod in confirmation, flinching when the cool substance comes into contact with your tiny bump. “alright! good job mum! let’s get you all set up.”

it takes a few minutes for dr park to set up the monitor, using a device that yoongi doesn’t recognise to scan for what he assumes is the baby. yourself and the doctor chat idly, and yoongi realises how scary it must’ve been to do these things on your own for the first time. his train of thought is cut off by the sound of a steady, tiny heartbeat filling the room.

that’s his baby, your baby.

“your baby sounds nice and healthy,” dr park hums happily, tilting the device to get more of a view of your little peanut. she points her finger on the screen and turns back to smile at you. “here they are, hiding from us.”

you giggle happily and for a split second, beam over at yoongi as you witness the life you’ve created together. “is that our baby-?” yoongi half whimpers, taking a step forward to take your hand in his. you jump at the feeling, his change in attitude but appreciate the support nonetheless, on the edge of tears yourself.

these last view weeks had been daunting, life changing, but seokjin and yura had been there for you every step of the way. holding your hand and coming with you to check ups.

“yes sir! i’m going to print out some pictures of the scans for you both, while we’re here, would you like to know the gender of your baby?” she asks politely and taps away on her computer.

“no, thank you.”

“yes, please.”

you send a glare yoongi’s way, fired up inside as he matches the look.

“yes!”

“no!”

the tension thickens in the room, so much so that a knife wouldn’t be able to cut through. dr. park stands from her chair, arms up to ease you both and coughs for your attention. “how about i print those pictures and you two can decide when i come back?” she suggests as you rip your hand from yoongi’s, who feels the walls build up around you again.

“that’d be great, thank you doctor.” he hums, watching as the doctor leaves the room before turning to you with a deepest scowl. “what was all that about, ms. kim? you were acting like a petulant child.”

you growl deeply, sitting up and wiping yourself clean of the cold jelly. you pull down your sweater and turn to look at the man with a dark frown. “me? a child?” you tsk, looking him up and down. “i didn’t see you taking any initiative when it came to the baby until wanting to know its sex! as far as i’m concerned, mr. min, you’ve acted as nothing more than a sperm donor i actually have to see,” you spit, ignoring the pang of guilt you feel when yoongi visibly flinches at your words. “and for the love of god, it’s YN.”

“well, YN,” he starts to argue, brushing off the hurt. “this is a first for me too, and if we’re going to make it work we have to compromise. i get it, i haven’t been much help or support but i am trying to get better, for you and the baby.”

you falter, you know that you have been tough on him but he is also making an effort by even showing up at all. sighing, you look to yoongi thoughtfully. “you’re right and I am sorry for lashing out, but this is one thing i won’t change my mind on. we have many decisions to make together, but this one i need for myself.” you say, rubbing your arm sheepishly.

“that’s fine, we can make that work.” yoongi smiles softly, to which you can’t help but return.

five months.

some would be shocked at the progress yourself and yoongi had made, having a baby really changed people. yoongi was much sweeter now, having dropped most of the formalities in favour of your ‘beautiful’ name, or so he called it. the executive brought you lunch almost everyday, left snacks and sweet notes to aid your cravings and ease your hormones.

yoongi even offered to send you money for groceries, claiming he wanted the baby to have a healthy lifestyle from early on. of course you refused it, whilst you loved the support you were getting from him, it sent chills down your spine at how fast he’d changed.

“but what’s so wrong about that?” yura asks you one night. the pair of you are both cuddled up under heaps of blankets, your feet on her lap as she munches on the kale chips yoongi had given you that day. she inspects the green crisp for a moment, blinking before popping it on her tongue and crunching happily. “free food? comfier clothes? a driver? sounds like the life to me, YN.”

you snatch the bag of chips away from your roommate, knowing it’ll spoil her appetite before your brother brings over dinner. peeking into the bag yourself, you swipe a few of the healthy snack for yourself, grimacing at the taste. what kind of sane person combines kale and chips? who? and it didn’t help that your cravings had kicked in.

“there’s nothing wrong with it, i just don’t want money spent on me.” you whine and pout, shoving the chips away from yourself.

yura only rolls her eyes and flicks your forehead. “but the moneys not for you it’s for miss yura junior over here!” she coos, raising her voice by a few octaves to talk to your bump. you watch with furrowed brows and a slight grimace as your roommate continues to make sounds horrifyingly similar to breeding cats.

“please, stop.”

“nono, she loves it.”

just at that moment, seokjin makes his entrance with bustling bags carried by his poor boyfriend- namjoon. you push yura away from your bump in order to make an effort in reaching namjoon but he leans down and kisses your forehead.

“you mean, he,” your brother comments and settles himself in the kitchen to prep you a meal. “i can already tell, that little critter in there is a boy and none of you can convince me otherwise.” he insists loudly, causing namjoon to roll his eyes.

“maybe YN’s results will...” yura turns to you with a mischievous glint, itching her fingers up your side knowing full well how ticklish you were. you’d probably sock her in the face with how much you wriggled.

“and there’s not a chance that either of you will find out, i’m under strict instructions to keep the results from you. all of you.” namjoon interjects pointedly, sagging into the seats and rubbing his arms from all the shopping your brother made him carry. yura sticks her tongue out at him. “now what’s this about baby daddy money?”

pulling the blankets up to your chin, you sigh, pouting over at namjoon. namjoon was like a second elder brother to you, quiet and helpful much unlike seokjin. you suppose that’s why the pair made such good partners, they balanced each other out well. “yoongi has been sending things over to help take care of myself and the baby but, it’s too much!” you huff and throw yourself back into the couch, sinking in and away from the world. “he even moved my desk at work, closer to his!”

joon tilts his head, looking at you with a knowing smirk and taps his nose. “sounds like this yoongi guy has a thing for you.”

“nuh uh, never, nada...nope!” you counter, shaking your head. there’s no way in hell yoongi could possibly feel that way about you. your hook up was a one time thing and you didn’t quite match up to the other girls he hooked up with at the office. “never in a million years. not possible.”

“you never know, YN,” he hums back, shrugging nonchalantly. “yoongi could be everything you least expect.”

you lose yourself in namjoon’s the words, thinking deeply as seokjin starts to being out the dinner trays.

“can you believe, min yoongi put a baby in her?”

“i want to know how his dick even got up just by looking at her.”

your skin crawls with discomfort as you enter the break room, your co-workers instantly silencing. this was common, for them to make you the subject of their idol chit chat. of course with your sudden pregnancy and yoongi’s newfound favouritism for you during meetings and overall, it only made sense for everyone to put two and two together.

jealous female coworkers didn’t like the idea that min yoongi didn’t want to hook up anymore, he wanted to focus on the one thing more important than his job.

he wanted to focus on you.

so now you were YN KIM, the red label’s pregnant whore. katie’s words, not your own. she was a new international relations employee from overseas, working with your departments new collection to debut in the US market.

you loathed her.

“good morning, YN,” she beamed, flicking her bleach blonde locks over her shoulder and pursed her lips the tacky barbie pink lipstick on. her insect eyes shift up and down your frame, making you curl in on yourself uncomfortably. “you’re looking a little bloated today.”

you bite your lip in an effort to stop it from quivering, holding your bump protectively as you wait for the kettle to boil for some tea. “i’m pregnant.” you mumble quietly as a line of defence, wincing as katie and her minions let out high pitched, squeaking laughs.

“are you sure? it seems like you’ve put on a few.”

gasping, you drop the mug you were using for tea and bite your lip, desperate for the tears not to fall. as quickly as you can, you shuffle out of the dreaded break room and ignore the ugly chuckles of your coworkers, making a break for the bathrooms.

bursting into the room, you brush past whoever’s about to leave and dash to the taps to splash cold water over your hot, tear stained cheeks. you hope to god that no one is here to see your snotty faced, crying session but your biggest nightmare only comes true when a warm hand settles on your shoulder.

“hate to break it to you sweetheart, but i don’t think this is the little ladies room,” you pout through your tears as you turn to face the voice, absolutely mortified when you notice them to be jimin. the blonde offers you a small smile that drops when he notes your sniffling, immediately replacing his expression with a look of concern. “ah! YN? are you alright?”

clearly not, you think but allow jimin to grab you some tissues and dab at your tears. jimin was a sweet boy, a fresh face around the company since he was hired to replace yoongi’s assistant (she had quit for undisclosed reasons.). the boy was smartly dressed, always in a blazer and woven sweater. he wore circular specs that always slid down his nose, but his golden weaved hair was always pushed back in away that had the ladies drooling.

“what happened?” jimin asks quietly, helping you fix your makeup to a presentable state. his touch is gentle as he dabs under your eyes, looking at you earnestly.

“promise you won’t tell yoongi?”

“pinky!”

you sigh heavily when the man steps back, offering him tired smile with puffy eyes. “the inernational relations girl has turned every one of my coworkers against me, ever since she found out that yoongi was too committed for hookups...” you mumble sadly, gesturing to your bump as jimin follows your gaze.

the blonde steps forward, grabbing your hands and holding them tight as he shakes his head. “they’re just jealous!” he exclaims, making you jump slightly. “i would be too if i was one of them, you’re a beautiful girl YN, with a beautiful baby coming along. if they’re going to be mean about it, they can fuck themselves because yoongi sure ain’t.” he finishes with a triumphant smile, looking down at you.

jimin is a sweetheart, and having only seen him around the office you know that you have someone trustworthy on your side for now. “thank you jimin, so much for your kind words.”

the blond only tilts his head, offering you a crescent moon eyed smile. “anytime, YN! now let’s get you back on that office floor.” he beams and takes your hand, leading you back to your desk, much to the dismay of all the other girls.

“repeat that again.”

“i fired her.”

yoongi punctuates every word, teeth grit as he spits them out. it’s almost as if thinking about the incident makes him angry, which of course it does, grown women bullying the mother of his child.

you sit straight faced in yoongi’s office chair, the doors are locked and the curtains open widely. the pale light of the clouded seoul sky brightens up the dark scowl on his face, as it caresses the curve of his pink lips and slope of his nose. shaking your head, you watch as yoongi fixes his suit and makes his way over to you. his steely, copper eyes are locked on your smaller frame as he flattens his palms out on the desk before you.

he really is mad and you can’t blame jimin for telling yoongi the truth.

“why?” you gasp with parted lips, looking up at yoongi with innocent eyes in hopes of ridding him from his scowl.

the man himself leans down close to you, his face within an inch of yours and his lips deathly close to your own. his breath is warm against your top lip, and you force your gaze upwards into his dark, liquorish eyes. “you know why, YN. there’s no way i’m going to have the women in this office harass you for my actions, for carrying my baby.” he seethes, tone contrasting with the forefinger and thumb he uses to gently tilt your chin up so you face him.

“if that’s the case, then you should have fired the whole floor.” you say meekly and gulp, this was the most yoongi had ever touched you since that night you spent tangled in each other’s arms, while he passionately ground his hips into- YN! you’re getting sidetracked! of course, aside from the occasional hand at the waist or on your bump to guide you.

“i would, for you.”

the line sends shivers down your spine and you bite your lip, lowering your gaze.

yoongi smirks down at you, letting you go gently and you’re left wondering how much power he really has in this company. the executive pulls up a chair beside you, grabbing your hand after a beat of silence. “YN, I’ve been doing some thinking, and i believe it would be best for you and the baby to move in with me in my penthouse down town,” yoongi explains simply, as your brows furrow in confusion.

“of course we’ll get a bigger place when he or she arrives, but i’ll take care of that and in the meantime i think it would also be in our best interest for you to quit your job here.”

“excuse me?”

yoongi hums absentmindedly. “i asked you to-“

“no i heard what you said, it’s absolutely ridiculous yoongi!” you cry and tear your hand from his, the deep set frown on your face growing into an ugly glare. the man simply sits back in his chair, confused. “you think just because i have your child inside of me, i’m going to do everything you say? quit my job? i worked hard to be here, i sacrificed days and hours for this position and i’m not going to leave my hard earned job because you have money and because you can get want you want.”

he stands, pushing a hand through his dark hair and stepping towards you. you weren’t going to let this man intimidate you. “YN, i’m simply making a few suggestions that will make this pregnancy easier.” yoongi growls lowly, feeling the anger boil up inside of him. why couldn’t you see that he just wanted to help?

“christ, yoongi! why can’t you see that i have a mind of my own as well?” you mutter, the hot rage coursing through your veins becoming a muted frustration. anger isn’t good for the baby and you know yoongi only means well. defeated, you pick up your bag and nod over to the man before you. “i appreciate all the help you’ve given these last few months, but i’m not a doll like your other girls, yoongi, i’m human too.”

you mumble the last part, adding that you’ll take a few days off if it pleases him. as you leave the office, yoongi is left with the lingering feeling that he’s disappointed you yet again, wanting more than anything to fix this.

“YN, sweetheart! YN...please wait!”

your frown deepens and shoulders hunch over the kart at the sound of yoongi’s voice. if only you weren’t pregnant— maybe then could you run a little faster. the executive calls your name again, following after you as you turn the corner into the baby isle. all you wanted to do was shop, for your baby— undisturbed.

rolling your shoulders, you push the kart at a faster pace and try to focus your attention on the adorable little baby grows with a range of soft pastels. “YN...” you cease at yoongi’s whining tone, biting your lip as you start to count to ten. “YN, please.” one, two, three—

“please-“

“what? what yoongi?”

yoongi throws his hands up into the air in defence, blinking shortly. you sigh in defeat and stop the kart in front of the teething toys and give the executive a lazy once over— his fit is different to what you would typically see him in, aside from his gucci and dior fabric suits. today he dons a tight fitting black t-shirt and casual black jeans that hug his thighs deliciously. breathing in deeply through your nose, your eyes flicker back up to meet yoongi’s sheepish honey ones, you nod to him to continue.

“i’m sorry,” he breathes hesitantly, debating whether or not he should reach out and touch you. “i’m sorry for making you feel like i was taking your career away from you. i know how much this job means to you and also how hard you worked for it...” the executive bites his lip and watches earnestly as you quirk you’re brow, cocking your hip as if to say ‘oh really, min yoongi?’. the man himself knows that you mean business and chooses his next words carefully. “what i’m trying to say, is that i was out of line. just because we’re having a baby together, doesn’t mean i have a right to dictate your life.”

the brunette looks down, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. you hum happily and take a baby grow off of the shelf, smiling at the words embroidered into the soft white fabric. ‘daddy’s number one fan.’

“you can make it up to me by pushing around this kart,” you wink and dump the tiny clothing into the object itself. “it’s heavy.”

yoongi smiles gratefully, lifting his head and gripping the kart. “anything for you, darling.”

seven months.

“so what kind of gender reveal are we doing? cake, balloons—ooooh! confetti!”

eyes rolling, you set the small box of collectible doohickeys on the smooth glass tables of yoongi’s fancy, four bedroom apartment. it was a place uptown with views of cotton candy sunrises, baby blues and pinks that swirled with light oranges just above vast greenery. yoongi had bought a year or two again with no use but now it was being made into a space for you, himself and the baby— right after you agreed to move in with him.

yura is perched in the plush leather couch, fur blankets draped over the backs that you eye suspiciously— you’re sure that when the baby comes, they’re something that you’ll have to replace, in fear they’ll be stained with baby fluids. “YN...” she sings with her pen between her teeth, she’d been planning your baby shower since you’d been too wrapped up with OB appointments and settling in with yoongi.

as you blink, you pick up a small snow globe from one of your family vacations with seokjin— tilting your head with a sly smile. “you know there isn’t going to be a gender reveal,” you put the globe down. would go nice with the kitchen? you’d have to put it out of the little one’s reach, though. “not until the baby is born, yura.”

“what’s happening to yura when the baby’s born?”

“you guys are so lame.” the girl in question scoffs, kicking her feet in defeat as she gives you an exaggerated sigh. yura pokes an unsuspecting yoongi in the chest as he enters the room with one of the final boxes before; she skips out to help your brother and his boyfriend with the rest. soaring a glance, you notice that ‘kitchenware’ is scrawled across the brown cardboard in the executive’s messy chicken scratch— something about the man that you’ve come to adore over the last few months. yoongi had done many things for you and the baby, so you knew moving in with him would give him some sense of security— and it made you feel much better.

yoongi looks up at you, confused as you start to giggle— moving to help him unpack the pretty marbled dishes you’d picked out with him. “why are we the lame ones?” he says with a pout, whiny tone like music to your ears.

“she’s still not over our decision to keep the baby’s gender a secret,” you raise your brows in a knowing look, reaching over and grabbing the executive’s hand sweetly. “she wanted to do a gender reveal.”

“we still could,” yoongi teases you playfully, as he uses your intertwined hands to twirl you into his chest so that he could hug you from behind. you shake your head with a bubble of laughter at the dark haired man’s antics— only quieting down when his hands slip down to your bump. a comfortable silence sweeps over you both, nothing but the sounds of your anticipating breathing filling the little space between you. another beat of silence passes before you feel the light tremor of feet and hands from the bump. “there they are.”

the pair of you spend the next few moments wrapped up in each other’s arms, waiting for your little treasure to kick and push at your tummy— but to your dismay, yoongi makes a quick departure after receiving a call from the board. for you, work had been slow and difficult as your pregnancy progressed whilst yoongi’s grew busier and busier as the season deadlines approached. you’d decided to take your leave, finding it harder to keep on your feet while your ankles begin to swell and your joints became sore— yoongi of course, was relieved.

“you two are getting affectionate.” namjoon comments, sliding into the room after your boss has left. you roll your eyes and make a move to sit on the plush couch, your little one becoming too excited.

the elder male quickly rushes over, taking your hand as he helps you to sit— you smile gratefully as thanks. “we’re just friends.”

“friends who‘re having a baby together.”

biting your lip, you pause your actions as an uneasy feeling spikes up within your chest. yoongi couldn’t possibly see you both as more than friends— he was in this for the baby and so were you. it didn’t matter that he sometimes kissed closer to your lips than normal or that he had a habit of making you blush. it didn’t matter that he called you sweet names, held your hand tight and was protective over you because mon yoongi wasn’t falling for you. was he?

or could it be, that you were falling for him?

namjoon’s brow creases with worry when your silence boarders on the edge of uncomfortable— making him take your hand in his, once more. “YN, are you okay? did i say something wrong-?”

“n-no i’m just...i’m just scared, joon,” you whisper, throat drying at your sudden realisation. the whole world feels as if it’s about the slip away from under your feet, the words you’re about to say— foreign on your tongue. namjoon looks up at you, the fear in his whiskey eyes reflecting your own. “i’m scared.”

“of what, YN?” the latter mumbles, concerned.

“of falling,” you say, voice barely above a whisper. “of falling for min yoongi.”

min yoongi had come to realise that parties were never really his thing.

they were easier to enjoy when people were drunk off their minds and didn’t know what was up or what was down. but observing the gathering from the edge of the room— completely sober and nursing a glass of baby champ had shown min yoongi that he’d never really liked parties.

there were too many loud noises— the squealing from your friend and chatter from excited guests— and too many people, bodies closely packed in a tight space. at least when he was drunk, he was too out of his mind to care, but he was going to be a father now and taking care of his little humans meant taking care of himself.

after all, drinking is what brought him is little gift in the first place.

the only thing that makes the night more tolerable is the bright smile that you have plastered on your face. the executive grins when his gaze finds yours, you give him the sweetest of beams before turning back to conversing with one of your childhood friends. yoongi loves the way you look tonight; you’d settled on blush pink dress— one from a collection you’d designed yourself. he remembers how hard you’d worked to finish the designs before taking your leave, so he was adamant that you would wear the dress, the first of its kind. your hair frames your face perfectly, each curl falling perfectly into place— caressing your soft cheeks that are lightly dusted with a warm blush to compliment the shadows that paint your eyelids.

“you’re drooling, hyung...”

the dark haired male jumps at the smooth voice from behind him, a scowl replacing the loving smile that once tickled at his lips. yoongi spins on his heel, adjusting his tailored jacket as his driver, taehyung slips an arm around his shoulders. the two had known each other for longer than it might have seemed, the younger being one of the few people yoongi actually trusted. they’d met back in college, before yoongi had become a big hot shot, before he fell into the world of sex, alcohol and money.

they’d lost touch when yoongi moved from deagu to work in seoul, seeing taehyung working there as a driver had been a pleasant surprise. the royal blue haired boy hasn’t changed a bit, the only thing being that he’d started dating the printer boy, jimin— who the executive ended up promoting because he loved the two so much. they were a trio, a little circle of trust and yoongi’s home away from home.

but that didn’t stop the executive from cursing out his long time friend. “what the fuck taehyung?” yoongi hisses, pushing the driver lightly. he gives a brilliant laugh in response, as bright and as colourful as his head full of “do i look like some kind of fucking dog to you?”

jimin appears on yoongi’s left, wrapping his own arm around the older’s shoulder and linking his hand with his lover. oh god, the terrible two. who knew what mischievous they would get up to when together. “you do look like a puppy in love,” the blonde comments, tapping yoongi’s nose with his small pinky. he’s only a little bit tipsy, probably because of the whisky yoongi had caught them sneaking in. “woof woof.”

“if hyung was a dog, what breed would he be?”

“probably a chihuahua, small but...deadly.”

yoongi sighs, gaze switching between the two lovers as they squabbled over dog breeds excitedly. one, two, three, four— “do you need something?” he asks the pair, praying to heavens that they don’t and that they’ll leave him alone.

jimin giggles, the sound bubbling from between his lush lips. “we’re here to give you a pep talk.”

“you should tell her how you feel,” taehyung mumbles, clinging onto yoongi. affectionate and drunk. “you love her, everyone can see it.”

“no they can’t—“ yoongi protests, but it’s far too late. the intoxicated pair of lovers are already pushing him in your direction and he can feel his heart beating violently in his chest as he nears you. since when were you able to make him nervous? perhaps his long time friends were right, the executive had felt himself grow fond of you— almost like his world revolves around you. he was with you not just for his child but for something much greater than himself. yoongi rolls his shoulders, his fingers barely touching at your own as he does his best to grab your attention, but then you turn around— glittering eyes shining even brighter at you look to him, the wisps of a greeting painted on your pink lips. “YN... i—“

his thoughts race a million miles a minute, just staring down at you makes yoongi’s heart stop. you barely have time to greet each other, before a loud nasally voice cuts through the buzzing electricity between you. “ahhh, mr min! the man of the hour, i’ve been dying to meet you.”

“mum,” you whine with a shy smile, linking your arms with yoongi in an affectionate manner. “play nice.”

“am i ever anything but?”

taking the time to look between the two women, he notices the endearing similarities between you and your mother. like the crinkles under your eyes when you grin and the little tilt of your head when you listen intently. he can’t help but wonder what little habits your child will pick up when they’re a little older, will they be more like him? or like you? yoongi hopes to the heavens that your baby turns out like you.

the man is so lost in thought that he almost forgets to introduce himself. “yoongi is just fine ma’am.” he smiles brightly, holding out a hand for mrs kim to shake— kissing it sweetly when she does so. he can’t help but blush under the intent gaze of your mother, squeezing your arm with nerves as he brushes through the terrains of his dark locks sheepishly.

truth be told, meeting your mother was the most daunting part of the evening for yoongi. you had painted a picture of regal woman, to yoongi, mrs kim with deepest eyes that were warm and soft— seemingly yes, he had faced celebrities and big bad CEOs but this was the grandmother of his unborn child. the woman who had raised and brought you into the world— he needed to prove himself worthy, especially since he’d impregnated you outside of marriage. yoongi wanted to show your mother that he could take care of you.

“what a charming young man, YN, darling,” mrs kim chuckles, batting her lashes up at the executive. yoongi only chuckles shyly, feeling his heart rate increase at the compliment. he was never good at taking those. “you never told me he was this attractive, you’ll make handsome children.”

“mother!”

“ah but mrs kim, i’m sure that if our child does turn out as handsome as you say— it’ll all be due to YN and you of course.” yoongi grins cheekily, ducking his head when you swat his shoulder playfully. the rose tint on your cheeks tells yoongi that his words have done their job in making you flustered and of course impressing your mother too.

the woman in question gives the executive a quick wink. “ever the flatterer too, hm?”

“yes ma’am.”

the conversation lasts for a minute or so longer before you’re rushing off to stop a slightly intoxicated jimin from stripping on the snack table as yura and taehyung cheer him on from below. affectionately, you lean up and kiss yoongi on the cheek before hurrying off with the help of your brother— leaving him alone with the intimidating presence of mrs kim herself.

moments pass without a word and yoongi wishes that he had stolen the liquor from tae so it’d at least soothe the adrenaline coursing through his veins. “i believe you’ll make a great father, min yoongi,” your mother announces, eyes trained on the daughter that she raised. “the way this baby has come about may be unconventional...but seokjin tells me you’ve stepped up to the plate, that you’ve come a long way.” she pauses, taking a breath as if she’s evaluating her words. “i know that you’ll take care of them, my daughter and her baby but i fear you’re not being one hundred percent honest.”

“i’m not?” the executive questions, lips forming a pout of confusion. whilst he was glad that seokjin had spoken highly of him and that despite the circumstances, your mother supported you both— he feared that if he’d lost your mother’s approval, you would take his child and not look back.

mrs. kim shakes her head fondly, a light chuckle filling the air between them. “oh don’t look so afraid child, i mean, you’re not being honest with yourself.” she chides, rubbing yoongi’s forearm as his brows furrow further. still confused, a question forms on his lips but the executive is silenced by another tsk from your mother. “you’re in love with my daughter, it’s clear as day and i‘m afraid that if you don’t tell her now or ever— she’ll grow fearsome herself, fail to commit and...” the woman takes a deep breath, casting a gaze over to you that yoongi can’t help but follow. “she needs someone like you to take care of her when she doesn’t want any help. i trust you to do that for me, min yoongi.”

the dark haired male takes a deep breath through his nose, watching as the elder woman takes her leave in favour of helping you calm your friends. he knows in his heart that she’s right, he loves you. he loves everything about you.

and there was no better time to tell you, than now.

the drive home is comfortable, quiet. yoongi steers with his eyes on the road and his hand intertwined with you over the console. he’s not watching you, but he knows that you’re counting the raindrops that slide down the tinted windows and merge with one another, you’ve told him that it was a habit you picked up as a child.

the baby shower wrapped up just after eleven p.m, when you’d started to complain of sore feet and the baby begun kicking to their heart’s content. like the loving brother he was, seokjin offered to help clear up whilst joon packed a drunk, snogging jimin and taehyung into his own car to drop them home. you’d thanked them endlessly, only playing nice because yoongi had promised you a foot massage when you’d returned home.

pulling into the driveway, yoongi turns off the ignition and lets the car fall into rest, the drifting hum of the car helping to steadying his nervous breathing. “we’re home,” he mumbles, more so to himself than you— biting at the skin of his lower lip. you’ve stopped counting the raindrops now, turning to face the man with a brow raised in confusion.

“yoongi, is everything alright?” you ask, squeezing his hand tighter now, it feels weighty in your own— reassuring to hold like an enveloping warmth that touches your heart. even though the car is dark, you can still make out the lines of worry that crease in his forehead, he’s never usually this quiet, uncomfortably quiet. “please... you’re scaring me...”

“i’m in love with you.” he says after what seems like years of deafening silence, finally meeting your eyes with a steeling gaze. you gasp, jumping back in shock but yoongi doesn’t dare let your hand slip from his. you feared this, the day that he told you such a sweet little lie. because how could he ever love you? you were just a girl from an office party with nothing special about you. min yoongi didn’t care for you, is what your thoughts forced you to believe but your heart knew better. “and i...i know that you’re scared, i am too. but YN, i can promise you now, that i’ve never been so sure of this, of loving you than i have about anyone...”

yoongi takes both of your hands this time, dark, stormy eyes fluttering across your face earnestly. you know in your heart that you love him too, you’ve felt it for a while but he continues, giving you all the more reason to trust in his words. “you’re beautiful and kind, and these last few months i’ve realised that you’re more than i ever deserve,” he pauses, looking away shyly as he opens up to you. “and i love you, so much i-“

“just shut up and kiss me, min yoongi.” you whisper in response, cupping his cheeks and pulling him down for a sweet kiss. your lips meld together perfectly as your hands move into the oblivion sea of his hair, gripping the locks tightly while your tongue finds his— engaging in a battle of passion. memories flash behind your eyes of the night you spent with yoongi, the one that gave you your gift. his hands sneak down to your waist as you kiss him eagerly, pouring a million and one emotions into it.

you don’t remember making it inside of the apartment, yoongi mumbling something about ‘not here’ in terms of taking you inside of the car. there’s a clash of tongue and teeth as you stumble up to your shared bedroom, pushing off clothes and letting out whimpers of one another’s names but when you reach the bed, rushed kisses become slow and steady, tender touches to your face and hips. “i want you,” yoongi says lowly, fingers tangling in your hair. “i want to take my time with you.”

you nod slowly as he pecks your lips once before kissing a sweet trail down your body and to your ankles. yoongi silently pulls of each of your shoes, massaging your swollen ankles as he smooths over your skin. you let yoongi take off your jewellery and smooch at your wrists, let down your hair and finally— unzip your dress. instinctively, your arms wrap around yourself like a protective barrier, shielding your body from yoongi’s moonlit gaze. of course, you weren’t ashamed to be carrying life inside of you but your body was in no way what it was before. you had stretch marks from your growing bump and swollen breasts that started to lactate here and there— you weren’t ashamed just shy.

“yoongi...i-“ you cant seem to find the words, gasping as the executive leans over you and pushes you down onto the bed. his slender fingers capture your wrists, gently pinning them above your head as his lips hover teasingly over your own.

yoongi tilts his head, allowing the moonlight seeping through the curtains to illuminate his features— the slope of his nose and the dip of his cupid’s bow. the darkness in his whiskey eyes and the black flecks that paint them. he’s beautiful. “you’re beautiful,” he whispers, staring deep into your eyes. “you’re glowing, pregnant or not i still find you stunning. please don’t hide your beauty from me.”

a small smile tugs at the curve of your lips as you nod silently, the man above you taking it as a sign to continue further. yoongi skilfully unclips your bra as his own lips find your neck, sucking on it diligently while your quiet whimpers fill the air like music to his ears. he litters your blank skin with shades of midnight blue and night sky purple as you arch your back into his chest but it’s not enough— you want to feel his skin against yours, the warmth of his body tangling with your own.

“off,” you mumble, pushing at his shirt while his calloused hands rub circles into your bare hips. “take it off.” yoongi obliges, pulling away from you for just a brief second to strip off his button up— his suit jacket and tie having been thrown off as you stumbled into the house. his skin is milky and pale, only dotted with light patches of freckles and scars fading with adult hood. “you’re beautiful too.” you add, looking yoongi deep in the eye.

he shakes his head fondly, kissing you again but only briefly. “i love you,” he utters into the quiet night before moving down to peck your bump. “i love you too.” you wait a moment as your baby delivers a small kick, seemingly tired out for now and share a gummy smile with yoongi. from there, your lover makes quick work of your panties, pulling them off in one swift movement as he takes to spreading your legs.

his touches are feather light, kisses like wise as the drift across your inner thighs and avoid where you need him most. “please, please yoongi.” you chant his name like a mantra, his warm breath making you even more sensitive than before.

“what is it that you need sweetheart? tell me.”

you chest heaves as yoongi smooths over your thighs, enjoying your responsiveness to him. “you, need you to touch me! god, please yoongi.” you whine, legs beginning to tremble with need. the executive only chuckles at the mention of his name, using his large hands to spread you open again, a single digit traces the outline of your heat, causing your hips to twitch up and follow the source of your pleasure.

“you’re so wet for me sweetheart and i haven’t even touched you yet,” yoongi coos, collecting your nectar with two fingers. he moans at the taste, leaning into your dripping heat with his tongue and swiping at the rest, making you whine and writhe in satisfaction. you had no idea why you were so sensitive and needy for his touch— blame it on the pregnancy hormones— it was almost as if yoongi had set alight a fire under your skin, scorching you with a hot desire as he spread your lower lips and tongue slipping past your wet hole.

fingers grip at his hair while you open up for him like a flower, hips rutting into his mouth as his plush lips sloppily kissed at your pulsing clit. “god, yoongi!” you cried, eyes rolling back as he slipped a digit past your entrance, curling it along side his tongue causing more of your hot slick to gush down your thighs, urging yoongi on while he moaned into your mess. the vibrations sent chills up your spine, making you arch your back and scream into the night, arousal spreading through your body and coursing through your veins. “please.”

“please, what?” the man in question asked, pressing your hips down as he looked up at you, evidence of your arousal painting his cheeks and chin. “tell daddy so he can help his baby.” yoongi cooed, replacing his tongue with two fingers, the stretch becoming a satisfying burn as he prepared you for his cock.

you writhed as the title slipped carelessly from between his lips, squeezing your tightness around his fingers as you struggled to keep your thighs apart. you were his baby and he was going to spoil you rotten. “wanna...wanna,” you fumble over your words as yoongi curls his fingers, pressing them into that spot that has you wriggling in the sheets—desperate for release. “wanna cum,”

“oh baby, you can only cum when daddy’s filling you up, yeah?” he speaks softly, all the love in the world intertwined with his quiet syllables. yoongi lazily draws circles on your clit, pressing his forehead to yours as she whispers sweet praises against your lips— they don’t stop when he pulls his fingers from your swollen heat nor do the kisses that come as he sheds the remainder of his clothes and aligns his hardened cock at your entrance.

you bite your lip harshly, eyes rolling with pleasure as yoongi’s hands find your own— his length pushing between your folds teasingly. you squeeze at your intertwined fingers, a sign that you’re ready to take him, that you don’t want to wait anymore. yoongi looks to you lovingly, lips hovering over your own, barely touching but saying every word and then some— you feel it, you see it that in this moment he loves you and for those to come, he loves you.

with a silent nod and another squeeze of your hands, yoongi pushes past your entrance, nestling his cock within the heat of your soaked walls. together, your share a gasp— finally being united as one. this time feels like your first together, no drunken hook ups, just you and yoongi and all the love in the world, between you both. his warm breath fans over your face like an ocean breeze as he sets a rhythm with his hips, slow at first with easy rolls of his body against yours— only speeding up with every octave that your moans rise in.

“yoongi...feels so good,” you mumble breathlessly, freeing one hand from his and burying them deep in his oblivion hair. yoongi only smiles down at you in response, bucking his hips a little feverishly as he drags the tip of his cock against your velvet lined walls. you jolt with pleasure, beginning to grind your hips back, in wanton— finding your hand slipping down to cup the man’s cheeks, letting him peck your finger tips that rest near the corners of his mouth. “so...so good...”

yoongi leans down, being mindful of the bump as he presses his chest to yours, your intertwined hands finding purchase in the silk of your sheets while he bottoms out inside of you. the room becomes filled with a vivid heat, the scent of passion twisting with the air leaving a lingering touch on your skin. “yeah? you like that sweetheart?” his voice is a light whisper, sending shivers down your spine as you arch your back into him. “love seeing you like this, angel,” he praises too, nosing your cheek as you fall into another pitfall of pleasure— a symphony of your sweet moans playing on repeat. “so swollen and full, carrying my sweet baby. love how big you’ve gotten for me.”

the silver words that slip from yoongi’s silver tongue have you throwing your head back, light perspiration licking at your skin as he takes the opportunity to ravish your neck once more. “got me so worked up, thinking bout those beautiful tits,“ his words start to slur as his free hand grips your breast squeezing them hard, so hard that you’re fearful they might start to leak. “can’t wait to taste that sweet milk, that you make for my baby. mine.”

yoongi ends his sentence in a grunt, cock thrusting mercilessly into your weeping hole, as he takes you over and over. words barely form on your lips, drowned out by the sound of skin slapping on skin and the moans that urge each other on. he drops his head to the junction between your neck and shoulder, hot breath tickling at your skin while you tug at his hair, his thick length pumping in and out of you, dragging you closer to the edge.

“yours, im all yours,” you whimper and clutch him closely as the tip of his cock brushes over that spot. tears spring in your eyes, yoongi’s hips rocking back and forth inside of you— the knot in your stomach becoming tighter and tighter. “i’m so close, please yoongi—daddy.”

he draws himself from your neck, pressing his forehead to yours once more as he mimics your pants, chest heaving with yours as you both draw to a close.

“cum with me sweetheart, i’ve got you...d-daddy’s got you—“ his breathing stutters, the feeling of you clenching around him becoming too much for him to bare as his thrusts become sloppy. “let me pump you full of my seed, give you another baby—“

“ohgod, yoongi!”

he pants out the last part, desperate to bring you to release. you know that his words are impossible, but the steer you on nonetheless, a blinding light flashing behind your eyes as a wave of goosebumps rise across the planes of your skin. you stumble into your orgasm, releasing onto his cock and fall into yoongi’s arms, spasming as he whispers cotton candy words into your ears while he chases after his own high.

“fuck baby, you’re so good for me, my beautiful girl.” he stammers out, tripping over his words as he fills you up with the seed of his orgasm. with trembling arms, yoongi collapses to your side, lips bright red and swollen, glass milk skin bruised and bitten. he looks beautiful like this, hair slightly frazzled from your exploring fingers as his chest rises and falls. he’s extraordinary. the executive shuffles, pulling you into his chest and kissing into your hairline with a small smile to his face. “you’re staring.”

“i love you-“ you blurt, mind cleaning from the post orgasmic haze. you know that the words have been said already, before you tumbled into the sheets with the man beside you— but this time it feels different, feels more real. you love min yoongi with all that you have, from this nose scrunch when he laughs, to the creases between his brows when he concentrates, everything about him is something that you love.

“i know,” he whispers, bumping your nose with his in an eskimo kiss.

you blink back, lacing your fingers. “no yoongi, i’m in love with you—“

“i know,” yoongi chuckles, taking your hand in his before brushing his lips against your knuckles sweetly. “and i hope to god that the heavens know how much i’m in love with you.”

nine months.

“strip.”

he utters the command, simple— yoongi bends your will to suit him best. he loves having control over you, making you follow his every wish. you’re his little pet, and he’ll do with you as he pleases. shuffling, you pull off the his shirt that you wear— revealing that you’d gone bra less in favour for comfort. the executive let’s put a deep groan that has your nipples hardening just by the sound, helpless whimper escaping your lips.

“look at you baby, all swollen and leaking for me... daddy wishes he was there to punish you himself.”

you pout heavily at his words, like you had when yoongi left two weeks into your third trimester for a three day business trip in the states. it was important, you knew that, he was finally closing the deal to debut The Red Label over there— he has big plans for the label and making you realise then, that your lover cared for the company more than you initially thought.

“miss you, daddy,” you gasp, writhing under his gaze through the facetime camera— adjusting it so he could see your rising bump. “both of us do.”

your third trimester was easier than expected, despite the aching feet and the constant desire to pee at the most inappropriate of times— the last few weeks of your pregnancy were on track to going well. your newfound boyfriend, yoongi, made sure to take care of you too, with sweet massages and passionate kisses, possessive touches to the waist and keeping your pregnancy hormones in check.

ever since that night you couldn’t help but jump yoongi’s bones at any chance you got— not that he minded, he always said that being with you was like being together for the first time again. even if it was late nights before bed or five minutes before yoongi was due for a meeting, he still was tender with you, loving with you. he still loved you.

your friends and family had instantly detected the shift in your relationship too, seokjin and namjoon giving your boyfriend the ‘you hurt my little sister and i’ll-“ talk. you know that they meant well, after all, who could imagine how far yoongi had come since the start of this all. he had begun your pregnancy as a disinterested asshole, who only cared for money or himself. he had no intent of bringing a child into the word but he really had stepped up since then, proven himself a worthy father to not just the baby, but yourself.

“you look gorgeous, so round and full...” he whispers, tired eyes watching you through the screen. his milky skin reflects a warm orange hue from the hum of the hotel lights, his hair ruffled from the stresses of the day. you close your eyes, biting your lip as your boyfriend lets out an amused chuckle— shaking his head. “wanna fuck you good, keep you pregnant. love how you look carrying my baby.”

“yoongi...”

“yes, sweetheart?”

“please...”

your boyfriend tilts his head, running his tongue over the roof of his mouth before leaning back in his chair as if he’s deciding what to do with you next—you know that you’re at his mercy, even if you’re a thousand miles apart. “touch yourself for me...but don’t you dare cum until i say so.” the man before you tuts, grinning evilly. “start with your nipples, sweetheart, i know they’re sensitive.”

you follow his words, keeping your eyes on his as you guide your fingers to your hardened buds— swirling them in circles with a quiet whimper, eliciting a similar sound from your lover abroad. “more...want more...” you gasp, feeling on edge from the stimulation.

“go ahead angel, touch yourself like daddy would.”

following his voice, your finger tips drift across your skin with a feather light touch, nothing like yoongi’s— but it will do for now. slowly, you move your laptop onto the sheets, giving your lover a clear view of the flower you hide between your legs, watching him shiver at the sight of your glistening hole. with shaky breaths, you start to rub shy circles into your clit— drawing patterns and figures of eight just like yoongi would. pleasure tingles at every tip and joint in your body, trickling through your veins as your wetness drips down your thighs, just from the thoughts of yoongi watching you.

“eyes open for me sweetheart,” he reminds you, guiding you gently to push two fingers past your entrance. you thrash in the sheets, desperate for more, to touch what only yoongi could reach— your hips buck up involuntarily at the thought of his large hands spreading you apart, fingers curling as the walls of your cervix pulse hotly around him. “that’s a good girl, doing so well for me, hm?” yoongi praises you, leaning into the screen.

“mhm, your good girl...” you respond breathlessly, pumping your fingers in and out of your pussy as you spasm and twitch with arousal. a beautiful mess is what yoongi would call it, your slick paints your thighs with a glossy essence— illuminating your skin as you curl your digits in search for that special spot. “god please please please!” you chant as yyour thighs shake with delight, the feeling only heightened by yoongi’s constant praise, your hips move desperately to catch up with your fingers that run at their own pace.

“slow down angel, don’t you wanna be good for daddy?”

you want to roll your eyes at your boyfriend, but knowing him— he’d only extended your punishment. “no,” you mumble, almost sternly, picking up the speed and curling your fingers, dragging them across your walls as you let out a high pitched squeal. “wanna cum.”

yoongi pauses and that’s when you know that you have him wrapped around your finger. a few pleases here and there have him nodding in permission for you to cum. your whole body shakes with delectation while yoongi coaxed you through your orgasm— stars twinkling behind your eyes as your released splashed out and coats your fingers.

“fuck baby, you did such a good job for me— put on such a pretty show for me...” the executive curses, shifting in discomfort. you can tell by the look on his face, parted lips and a crease between his brow, that he’s struggling to hold down his arousal. while left shaking and heavily pregnant, you some how manage to shift into a comfortable position— giving yoongi the puppy dog eyes.

“did daddy cum too?”

“no baby,”

a beat of silence and a grin from you. “please daddy, wanna see you cum too...”

a broken moan escapees from the confines of yoongi’s cherry lips, making you hum in satisfaction from across the globe. within an instant, the position of your boyfriend’s camera has changed— tilted down so you can get a good view of his cock springing free from his tight grey joggers. yoongi fists his length, hissing at the sensitivity, he’s bond turned on at this point. his cock stands at full attention, bright red tip burning in desperation as clear precum oozes heavily from its centre. throwing his head back, he begins to pump his girth, thick and wide, which makes your mouth water at the thought of it filling you up and stretching you open again.

“cum for me, yoonie,” you whisper, he’s barely three or four strokes in— too pent up to wait any longer, you have no idea how long he’s been holding it for. yoongi cums then and there, chest heaving with his dark hair matted to his forehead. thick ropes of his hot seed coats his knuckles, a shade much paler than his own skin.

you smile brightly when your lover comes to, busying yourself by pulling his shirt back over your head and inhaling its scent— firewood and pine, reminding you of him. yoongi smirks lazily as he uses a tissue to wipe up his mess before tilting the web cam up to his face for a better view, he chuckles deeply and shakes his head like before. “god, YN, the things you do to me,” he muses, rolling his eyes at your antics.

you mirror his smile, pressing a kiss to the screen as if he was really there. “you love me.”

“i do, so much.”

“and i love you, even more.”

although yoongi was meant to be returning today, you hadn’t been expecting any guests.

the jingle of keys in the lock captures you’re attention, the re-run of ‘real house wives’ not doing anything to interest you. you weren’t expecting your lover for another few hours but perhaps this was his way of apologising for leaving so suddenly. yoongi had seemed stressed this morning when you called after your OB appointment, showing more pictures from your scans with dr. jihyo park— he’d shown little excitement towards the life you’d created together, which was highly unusual for him.

nonetheless, you adjust yoongi’s sweater around you and wrap your arms around your baby bump protectively, moving from your comfortable position in the depths of your couch in search of your lover.

what you don’t expect, is the click of high heels against your marble floor.

what you least expect is the woman paired with them.

anyone with a pair of working eyes, or even less would know how beautiful of a woman she was. her skin was golden, dipped in honey and kissed by the gods of the above— unblemished and untouched. she had sharp features, cat like eyes, the colour of molasses paired with thick lashes and eyeliner that could cut diamonds. obsidian black and curled locks tumbled carelessly down her shoulders, framing her face perfectly whilst her ruby red dress hugged the dips and curves of her body— matching the blood red painted onto her lips.

she was stunning.

the stranger, however, seems too comfortable in your home. she knows exactly where to hang her keys and to put her jacket— she opens a letter that you know must be addressed to yoongi and simply tosses it aside as she struts through your home like she owns the place. it’s not until you’re standing out in the open for her to see, that she stops her actions, tilting her head into the air as if it’ll answer the questions in her puzzled mind.

“i wasn’t aware that minmin had hired new staff, i’m joohee.” she introduces herself, clear voice echoing across the hall.

you frown, rubbing your arm at her words. “who’s minmin?”

“your boss? min yoongi.” joohee answers confusedly as she approaches you, handing you her luggage expectantly. a pitiful smile crosses her plump, devil lips as she eyes your bump— making your skin crawl and coddle it protectively. “you’re pregnant? how far along are you? such a shame that minmin didn’t give you any time off. his values can be pretty off-“

you drop joohee’s bag as you listen to her blabber, her voice becoming patronising and sickly to your ears. she looks as if she’s about to have her way with you, tear into you like a lost little lamb but you won’t dare be disrespected in your own home. “listen lady,” you seethe, hating that you look like the pregnant angry lady. “i don’t know who you are, or what business you have with my boyfriend but i am not the help. now if you don’t mind, i’d like you to leave my home before i cal” security.”

the women before you lets her lips part with shock, quickly adjusting herself as if she’d been a doll in repair. her midnight eyes look you up and down while a cruel smirk as she takes her sunglasses from her air and toys with them between her perfectly white teeth.

“ah, i see, yoongi’s been out to play while i’ve been away. you’d think he’d be loyal to his wife— wouldn’t you?”

“w-wife?” you stammer, heart plummeting in your chest. you hadn’t noticed the diamond ring nestled comfortably on her ring finger— as if it had been there the whole time.

joohee smiles again, one that could be on the front cover of vogue. “three years and counting, darling, who could have guessed.” her words are like bullets to the chest, taking you down one by one. your heart burns with an unfamiliar sensation— heartache? betrayal? you can’t tell. everything seems foggy, all lies with smoke and mirrors. you had to have known at some point that it was too good to be true. “some water, darling?”

you shake your head at joohee, not realising the hand that claws at your throat. panic and pain crawl through your chest and hide in the ridges of your throat as you struggle to find the words to face the devil dressed in red satin. “no... i just, i just need a moment—“ you whisper, fiery tears burning in your eyes and threatening to scorch at the apples of your cheeks.

“take all the time you need, dearest.”

you move swiftly from there, running to the nursery and grabbing the hospital bag you’ll need for the baby’s delivery before heading to yourself and yoongi’s shared bedroom. you stare at the room with disgust and hatred, you’d shared too many loving moments with this man for it to be true. he lied to you, lied to her most probably.

you realise now that you were just another pawn in the game of chess called min yoongi.

through broken sobs, you manage to pack enough of your clothes to last you until you have time to come back. and so with trembling hands— you dial the phone and listen to it ring once before it picks up.

“hello?”

“seokjin?”

“yes, YN— what’s wrong? are you... are you crying?”

“please...come pick me up...”

there are no more words as the line goes dead, a little piece inside of you— dying as well.

yoongi had known something was off that night when he came home. a seventy-two hour stay in the states was more than exhausting— dealing with press and foreign interviewers who only wanted to hear about ‘american inspirations’ the debut collection. the executive had wanted to tell them proudly, that it had been you leading the design team, his YN but he stuck with his simple answers of gucci and dior to appease the crowd. all he wanted now, was to curl up with his darling girlfriend and their unborn child.

except... something was off.

the house had been dark when he came in, a new set of keys by the door and an unfamiliar suitcase. yoongi knew, if there was anything to go by, that you would have the hum of real house wives on and the smell of those salted kale chips he made you eat— wafting through the air. but instead, the sultry tones of old, familiar jazz oozed from his living room accompanied by the soft sounds of glass on glass and wine pouring.

wine.

“where is she? you bitch.” yoongi never swore at a woman, his mother raised him better than that but he heated the way joohee leisured on his couch— the couch where he lay with you for countless nights— sipping at a bottle of red wine. “answer me!”

joohee barely flinched at the raise in the dark haired male’s voice, simply choosing to pour another glass of the fruity liquid for the man himself. “she left minmin, who wouldn’t after finding out their little boy toy is married.” she teased, each word she spat like poison from were sweet lips.

“divorced, joohee, fucking divorced.” he heaved. “what the fuck did you tell her?”

“correction, divorcing and only what she needed to hear.”

yoongi remembers how fast he’d moved across the room, slamming his fist down on the coffee table so hard that it had almost shattered the glasses. that time, joohee had jumped, never had she ever seen yoongi so mad, so angry. “get the fuck out, walk out of the door and out of my life. it’s what you’re fucking good at.”

joohee left not a minute later, leaving yoongi alone in the dark of his home. your home. the home you were supposed to share with one another, build a life in. he hadn’t wanted that with joohee, not after she ruined him and broke what soul he had. you were the one to have brought min yoongi back to life, but now, he had lost you.

min yoongi hadn’t cried in a long time, but tonight would be the first since then.

“YN...he’s calling again.”

you look up briefly from folding freshly washed baby blankets and grows, to stare down at the phone that sits between yourself and yura before going back to the task at hand.

“ignore it.”

yura sighs, hitting decline before resuming her own activities— munching on the snacks yoongi had packed in your baby bag. ever since that night, seokjin had made sure you were guarded by at least one of your friends or family members. since you’d moved back in with him, either he or joon would watch you throughout the night, holding you while you cried your heart out. seokjin swore that the stress wasn’t good for the baby and that he’d kill min yoongi if he ever saw the ‘fucker again’ but you couldn’t help it, the man that you loved so deeply, the one who’s child you carry lied to you and tore your heart in two.

how could anyone lie about something like that?

moments pass before the phone rings again and you quickly reach over to hang up once more. “you really should talk to him YN. not for your sake but for the baby’s..” yura mumbles after a while, sucking the salt from her fingers as if she’s worried you’ll burst out mad at her. “maybe it’s not what you think—“

“how can it not be? he had a wife yura, he’s married! there’s no explanation for that!” you almost yell, clutching one of the grows to your chest tightly as if it’ll protect your heart.

“but maybe—“

“stop trying to defend him!”

“i’m not!”

“then shut up, shut up because you don’t know anything.” you add sternly as your bottom lip starts to wobble, you breathe heavily trying to calm yourself down. the slight twinge in your lower belly doesn’t distract you from the pain in your heart. “you don’t know what it’s like to fall for someone like this, to think you have it all and then—“

yura looks at you patiently, one of her greatest traits. she didn’t lose her temper with you or fall into screaming matches when your hormones got the best of you. she may have been slightly ticked at you, but she knew better than to show it. “the what?” she comments, brow raising in interest.

“nothing... i just, im sorry, i shouldn’t have yelled.” you bite your lip, putting down the small item of clothing and running a hand over your face. your roommate only shakes her head fondly, rubbing your shoulders, she knows this entire thing has been hard for you. you’d never planned to have a baby this early on in your life, you wanted big things and had major plans.

and you gave it all up for yoongi.

your friend smiles sadly, letting you go before heading to the doorway. “it’s okay, YN... i’ll give you some alone time.”

she does just that, giving you room to breathe as a million thoughts and what ifs cross your mind. what if you’d never met yoongi? would you be the same person you are now, back then? would you want this? would you— a burning sensation spikes in your lower back, making you double over in pain, this hadn’t been like any pain you’d experienced before, nothing like the braxton hicks you’d been warned about. and then, there’s a light gush between your thighs— panic soaring in your chest.

“y-yura-!” you gasp, steadying yourself on the nearest surface as the pain subsided unlike the fear and nerves that cloud your mind. “a-are you still there?”

the girl scoffs playfully from the hallway, making herself known. “of course i am, i’m your babysitter remember? i wouldn’t actually leave you.” she mumbles, tone quietening as you whine with the next oncoming contraction. “YN...are you alright?”

you squeeze your eyes shut, gripping the dresser so hard your knuckles turn white with the force. “yura... i think— i think my water just broke...”

“oh shit.”

this, this was pain.

yura whispers praise into your hairline while nurses flurry in and out of your room— she’d called your brother not long ago who was on his way from his last shift at work. you didn’t want to be alone. “why, why did i go through with this?” you whine, hair plastered against your forehead with sweat. people are surrounding you, telling you to push and then not to, everything is too overwhelming and all you want is the baby out of you.

everything that could possibly go wrong, was going wrong. an ambulance had been unable to pick you up from your brother’s home, the delivery plan having been registered to yoongi’s house— meaning that your roomate had to drive you all the way to hospital herself, getting lost on the way. now you were being wheeled through the hell hole, on the way for your delivery.

“because you wanted this baby and you wanted it him?” yura suggests, squeezing your hand tightly— only wincing when you squeeze it back with the start of a contraction. “would now be a bad time tell you that i called yoongi?”

“you what?” you screech, barely having time to be mad as another wave of pain hits burns at your waist. god, did you even think this part through? you barely register the door opening, another presence instantly by your side. your body responds naturally , calming in response to the man that’s now beside you.

yoongi grips hand, and if you weren’t in so much pain you would have torn away— your heartbeat ceasing in your but you know that you need him here. the time to talk will be later. “im sorry,” he mumbles quietly as they prepare you for the delivery room. “im sorry i did this to you, that i hurt you and i know that you don’t want me here right now, but im not going anywhere. not when you need me.”

curling in on yourself at the student wave on pain, you take a chance and stare up into his eyes— searching for the truth, for an answer. “okay,” you breathe, unsure of what you’ve uncovered behind yoongi’s dark eyes. “okay, lets do this.”

the executive nods at the nurses to make a move for the private delivery rooms he’d booked earlier on in your pregnancy. he squeezes your hand with a promise to yura that he’d take care of you, while you brought new life into the world.

“she’s waiting for you, y’know.”

yoongi doesn’t dare to look up, choosing to focus on the scuff on his shoes as a distraction from the conversation that is to come. it’s been hours, three or four, since the delivery— the birth of his child smooth sailing from the moment he took your hand but through all the screaming and cursing at him, yoongi couldn’t help but think of what he had lost. a family, a life with you.

but now, your room was packed with the family you had built before him, namjoon cradling you’re infant in his arms as yura cooed away— playing with tiny fingers. the executive didn’t feel like he belonged, like he didn’t deserve to be in there with you.

seokjin clears his throat with a roll of his shoulders before taking a seat next to the latter. as much as your brother despised yoongi, he knew in his heart that you were meant to be together. he’d seen you both grow from cold, isolated human beings into the warmth that a child needed to be in the world. seokjin would do this for you. for you and the baby.

“look,” the elder starts, elbows on his knees to support himself as he rubs his hands together, ordering over his next choice of words. “i never liked you, i knew that you’d break her somehow—“ yoongi scoffs, cutting the other kim sibling off, as the words nick his heart. “— but i also know that she gave a lot up for you because she loves you. that mother in there, YN, is going to need all the help she can get and christ be damned that i’m going to give it to her but that baby... that baby is going to need a father. so either you step up and prove to her that you’re still in this or you take your leave now.” seokjin warns, this time— sparing a dark glare to a now intimidated min yoongi. “because the last thing they now need, is another let down.”

the executive blinks, taking a moment to ponder your brother’s words. “i understand, thank you.”

seokjin nods, moving into your room to round up your family— giving yoongi the space he needs to explain himself to you. when he enters, you have the baby swaddled in your arms with a look that says it all. that your entire world is right here with you. a look that makes yoongi fall in love with you all over again.

“he’s beautiful,” you whisper, having heard the male come in— sparing him a short glance before looking back down at your baby, afraid that if you look away for too long, he’ll disappear. “don’t you think?”

the dark haired man can’t help but nod, approaching you slowly to admire his son— a small little thing with beautiful eyes to match your own and a head full of curls, just as dark as yoongi’s. “we made a beautiful little thing.” he comments, leaning down to brush his thumb over little min’s cheek. yoongi looks up, not realising how you watch him with tenderness, this was how it was supposed to be. “YN...i-“

“yoongi.” you breathe, turning back to focus on your baby.

“i’m sorry, i should have told you— about joohee— about my marriage with her, which is over by the way...” yoongi hates how you flinch at the mention of his ex, reaching out to grab your hand. he breathes a sigh of relief when you don’t pull away like he expected you too. “we’re getting a divorce.”

you gasp, all of your emotions flying at you at once. joohee had failed to mention that fact to you, something you might have heard if you’d heard yoongi out. “but she said—“

“i was with her a long time ago, back when i was working in daegu and she changed. the industry changed and she did too. joohee became manipulative and rude and—“ the executive closes his eyes, taking a moment to reflect. he’d never opened up about this before, but he needed you to understand...maybe forgive him. he needed to be in his child’s life. “and we weren’t working anymore, giving each other what we needed. i wanted white pickett fences, a dog, a family but she wanted all the money in the world and i couldn’t give her that.” he breathes, and you squeeze his hand. “but i met you at that party where i felt so free,”

his words come out as jumbled, becoming a ramble causing you to shake your head and grip the man’s wrist tighter. “yoongi.”

“and then this happened and i knew that i wanted all of that with you and our son and i’m so sorry that i put you through all of that pain, for not telling you—“

“min yoongi—“

“and i just miss you so much that it hurts, i want to be with you...”

“god min yoongi just shut up and kiss me!” you repeat your words from early on, using the hand that held his to pull him closer, pressing his lips against yours in a forgiving kiss. you pour all of your words and emotions into the movement of your lips against his, your love, your pain, your passion. you love him, you do— with all your heart and soul, the pair of you being mindful of the baby between you as you hold each other near and dear. “i-i love you,” you stammer, pressing your forehead against his. yoongi smiles, lips hovering over your own, he’s about to lean in for another kiss when your little boy gurgles between you. “and i love you too baby.”

“does he have a name yet?”

“i was waiting for you...”

yoongi smiles, letting your baby boy wrap his tiny fingers around his own. your body lights up with joy, if someone had told you— nine months ago, that you would end up with the worlds most beautiful baby boy, a man that you loved and a family that supported you... you would have laughed but now you’ve seen, that sometimes life has unexpected twists, good and bad.

but luckily for you, you’d had a good one. “joonwoo,” your lover hums, kissing the top of your babies head before giving you the very same kiss. “that should be his name.”

“joonwoo, meaning protection,” you mumble in a wordless agreement, observing your family. joonwoo had been a name you picked out with yoongi one night during the early stages of your pregnancy—you were surprised that he’d even remembered. “it’s perfect.” yoongi would have your white pickett fences, your dog and your family home but for now, you would enjoy the moment— enjoy the time with your boys and wait for what the future would hold.

you couldn’t wait to see where you’d be in another nine months from now.

“ahaha! look, they’re kissing! what did i tell you guys? thats twenty bucks… each!” taehyung exclaims happily, removing his face from the glass as he watches the happy family through it. jimin only rolls his eyes from behind his lover, arms aching slightly from the abundance of gifts he holds in them.

yura rolls her shoulders, having half a mind to shove the blue haired male over but she knows you’d give her an earful if she did. “fuck you,” she groans as she passes over the cash.

“i do that already!” jimin chirps from behind.

that’s when seokjin sweeps in, taking the money from taehyung with a happy smile. much to the disdain of the latter. “but i called it! he’s a boy.” the elder smirks, counting the bills. taehyung pouts in response, clinging to his boyfriend who only rolls his eyes at the group’s antics.

“but y’all are forgetting, the most important thing...” namjoon adds, taking the money from seokjin and smirking smugly at the shocked faces he receives. “i won the bet cus they’re getting married.” the brunette reveals in a sing song tone, pulling the ring box that yoongi entrusted him with. namjoon only chuckles as the group descends into chaos.

this baby was in for one hell of a family.

⇢ author’s note(s): thank you all so much for reading!! please let me know what you think and have a wonderful day or night <3

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neyawrites · 3 years

Note

Hello! I hope I’m not bothering you since I sent this when you’re offline. But anyways, may I please request Nagito (x reader) fluff headcanons? Thank you!

Hey, not at all!! Thanks for requesting!!

Nagito Komaeda fluff headcanons

Desc: self explanitory

Warnings: none

Pairings: Nagito x gn!reader

A/n: I haven’t played sdr2 in forever

Oh but this takes place in Modern au (sorry if that’s not what you wanted but I feel like he wouldn’t actually wanna date during the killing game?? And cuz Monokuma would be watching you guys 24/7 so it would be a bit weird)

Nagito:

•You guys have a cat. Just getting that out there. He might feel bad if you’re allergic but he said he’d make sure you’re not by it sooo

•Nah, but he’s oblivious to the fact that cats shed a lot so you’d still be actin up and he would just be like 🤨

•If you guys live separately, he would always beg you to go to his house because he has a pool in reality it’s just a little kid pool but

•If you live together, he would almost always be found in the pool on Saturdays. Only Saturdays. You’ve probably asked him why but he just gave you a pat on the head and was like “the pool is cool” or some stupid shit

•If you two are in school, he would either call you over to help him with assignments nah not really or he would go to your house to “do work”

•He just messes with you pretty much the whole time

•He’s more silly around you because you make him more comfortable— he probably has many hidden insecurities but those vanish once he’s with you

•So except to see him a lot

•Like you’re never getting rid of him

•I hc that he has dreams of sdr2?? Like even though it didn’t happen (this is modern au remember??) he would have a recurring nightmare about it

•So at night he would, when you’re sleeping, lay really close to you and just hold you, eyes open because he’s both too afraid of watching you die in the killing game

•You mean a lot to this boy, don’t forget it

•Okay so y’all know Hanako the bathroom ghost, right? Well like him he also really loves donuts, so when you both are out somewhere and he sees a donut shop, he will practically drag you in there

•He offers to pay for you because “women/men/uhh his s/o shouldn’t pay”

•What a sweet boy

•But then he’d get irritated when he loses a large amount of money from grocery shopping

•When he’s bored he would come up to you and just peck your cheek then leave

•For no reason, too

•Like wtf

•But you like it don’t you 😏

•He probably plays the violin or flute in his spare time which sounds really beautiful

•And, preferably if you’re a pianist like I am get on my level he would be so happy! Like he would beg you to play something for him

•And when you do, his full attention goes to you— and he probably has another crush on you idk

•THIS BOY CAN COOK

•His food is probably really basic BUT I BET IT TASTEs SO GOOD

•He watches Gordon Ramsay on his free time don’t judge him

•But nahhh because his food slaps

•He likes to draw little pictures of you and him (and your cat) and hang them up in either his room or your room (if you share a room then he frames it and puts it next to his bed)

•He’s really cold; like his skin is always cold, so he always runs out of jackets so his last resort is

•You?? Even though they probably don’t fit him he WILL find a way to fit

•Because he has luck on his side, obv

•So yeah, cute boyfriend, 10/10

Another a/n: I just woke up sorry if this sucks

Tags:

#nagito komeada x reader #nagito komaeda #anime x reader #sdr2 x reader #danganronpa #uhhh #danganronpa x reader #nagito x reader #sdr2 nagito #ummm #idk what else so yeah #that’s it #nagito fluff

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luxekook · 4 years

Text

cream | knj

❯ pairing: namjoon x fem!reader

❯ genre: established relationship au, pure smut

❯ summary: you thirst over the outline in the pants of kim namjoon’s iconic cream suit just one time too many, and he’s ready to make you pay for it

❯ word count: 1.8k

❯ warnings: 18+, pwp, basically 1.8k words about joon’s d, cursing, dirty talk, mentions of masturbation, dom!namjoon, sub!reader, oral (m receiving), dry humping, spanking, KIM NAMJOON’S CREAM SUIT PANTS

❯ dedication: this fic is for my darling lindy @ppersonna!!! happy (early) birthday! i hope you enjoy your brand hehe ily!

The outline of his cock will be the death of you. Despite already knowing what it looks like uncovered, the subtle tease of its hardness - its thickness - just does you in.

You’re alone, spread out on your shared king bed and scrolling through your top secret compilation that you tastefully dubbed “Namjoon’s Cock Outline Thirst Folder”. It hadn’t been your best work or your finest moment, but you had been distracted - and rightfully so.

Namjoon’s dick is a thing of beauty, a work of art. It’s a sculpture just waiting to be made, and you curse the gods every damn day that you are not blessed with artistic abilities because that thing deserves to be enshrined in multiple mediums.

Your boyfriend is currently out of the apartment, deep in preparation for the upcoming tour. In fact, Namjoon is gone more often than not lately, and you miss him. You miss his warmth, his dimpled smile, his gentle caress in the darkness of your bedroom. You miss his sweetness, his affection, his rambled 2AM thoughts.

You miss his cock.

Your fingers just aren’t cutting it anymore - even while you scroll through the various pictures of Namjoon’s beautiful crotch and the bounty of gifs of him bodyrolling in that goddamn cream suit.

As you fixate on the image of him looking like sin in his cream suit, you fail to hear the door to your apartment open, signalling Namjoon’s return home.

No, you’re too entranced by the undulations of your boyfriend’s body - the sensual nature of his movements, the fucking outline of his cock. A soft moan slips out of you as the gif replays over and over, taunting you.

You’re still too busy thirsting over Namjoon’s clothed dick to realize that he is now standing in the doorway to your bedroom with his eyebrows raised and an amused smirk gracing his full lips.

Your traitorous hand is still down your shorts as it continues to fail to substitute for what you really want.

“Having fun, baby?”

You let out an inhumane screech, chucking your phone clear across the room in some sort of attempt at self defense.

“Kim Namjoon, are you out of your mind?” You slap a hand to your heart, feeling its erratic pulse beneath your fingertips, “You need to wear a bell around your neck, I swear!”

While you’re still ranting, Namjoon picks up your thrown phone from where it lays face down on the floor by his feet. He begins to move towards you but then halts as he notices what you’ve been looking at on your screen.

“Baby,” he chuckles, interrupting your continued rant on how he should announce himself each time he enters a room. “What is this? Do you really have a folder full of pictures of me that you thirst over?”

Embarrassment washes over you. You had never meant for him to find out about your desperation. There is only one way for you to attempt to gain the upper hand. “For your information, I have thirst folders for all of the boys,” you sniff, crossing your arms across your chest.

The sad truth is that you’re not even entirely lying. You do have a group folder with pictures of the entire group that you drool over during stolen moments. Lately, your attention has strayed to Jimin and how good he looks in tight jeans…

Which brings you right back to how Namjoon looks in well-fitting pants. Damnit.

As your inner turmoil rages on, Namjoon’s face is darkening rapidly. “You’re thirsting over my friends, (y/n)?”

You gulp as he stalks towards you and sets your phone down on the bedside table. “Am I not satisfying you? Do I need to remind you who you belong to? Whose cock you’re desperate for?”

“N-no,” your voice cracks, totally betraying your attempt at being nonchalant.

Namjoon’s palms rest on the edge of the bed as he leans over you. “You know,” his deep voice washes over you, “I just don’t believe you, baby.”

Words fail you as he chuckles just once at your wide-eyed expression.

“I want you naked and kneeling on the ground facing the foot of the bed by the time I get back, (y/n). Don’t disappoint me.” Namjoon brushes a thumb across the seam of your lips, his dark eyes bore into your own. And then he’s gone, stalking across the room and into your shared walk-in closet.

You spring into motion, tugging your shirt off before you’re even fully standing. You don’t know what your boyfriend is up to, but you do know that there would be hell to pay if you don’t listen to his orders. And although sometimes you revel in being disobedient, you’re way too impatient for that right now.

Bad girls may get deliciously punished, but good girls get fucked.

Your knees barely hit the soft carpet before you hear Namjoon re-emerge into your bedroom. Silence envelops you as your ears strain to catch his movements, but all you can identify is the harsh staccato of your own breathing.

The lightest touch across your bare shoulders causes you to jolt. You’ve been so touch-starved that even the smallest brush of Namjoon’s fingers sends a rush of heat through your body.

“I’m surprised you listened, baby,” his words sound from right over your shoulder, but you dare not look. “Gave me so much attitude before… What happened?”

You don’t answer. He’s baiting you, and you know it.

Namjoon’s lips press into the nape of your neck, and you can feel the smile grow with each passing moment that you refuse to rise to his challenge.

“Fuck, baby,” his hands glide up your waist, stopping just below your breasts. “You really missed me this much? You don’t even want to talk back? Get spanked? Ride my thigh?”

A shiver rushes down your spine at the thought of riding him, and of course Namjoon catches it.

“Ah, that got your attention, didn’t it? You want to ride my thigh, baby?” His hands are cupping your breasts now, thumbs circling your nipples.

Your head shakes before you can stop yourself. And just like that, Namjoon’s touch is gone from your body.

“No?”

Your eyes widen as your boyfriend sounds more amused than annoyed with your refusal. The reasoning becomes clear as he continues, “My baby wants to ride something else, doesn’t she.”

The lack of questioning in that statement alerts you that you are so, so fucked.

That conclusion is confirmed when Namjoon steps in front of you, standing between you and the foot of the bed, in nothing but his goddamn cream suit pants.

A low whine bubbles up as you unconsciously sway forward; you’re unable to think as the shamelessly prominent outline of his cock is inches from your face. Your eyes shoot up to meet his for the first time since you knelt down.

He’s already looking down at you with pure hunger. His eyes are the darkest you’ve seen and his hair is in disarray. The muscles of his arms and torso flex as his hands clench and unclench as if he’s trying to hold himself back from throwing you onto the bed and fucking you into next week. Not that you’d have a problem with that…

And so you decide to test the waters. “Sir, can I taste you? Please?”

You’re playing dirty by using that honorific. It’s Namjoon’s favorite after all.

But you’re a girl on a mission, and that mission is worship that cream covered cock in every way imaginable.

And your boyfriend knows it as he curses quietly before sliding a hand through your hair. “Yes, baby, you can— fuck!”

The only words you register are ‘yes, baby’, and you lunge forward, hands gripping the backs of Namjoon’s thick thighs as your mouth latches onto the head of his clothed cock. The heat of him is overwhelming despite the layer of linen in between you and his skin.

Your hand comes up to palm the base of his cock while your mouth continues to kiss and suck the tip. You’re not sure who’s moaning louder at this point - you or Namjoon.

He lets out a particularly low growl as your grip tightens. Your other hand travels down your own body to begin circling your clit. You don't even realize you’d done it, but Namjoon does.

Your boyfriend tugs you up onto shaky legs before he sits on the bed, legs spread wide. Your eyes fall onto the mess you’ve made of his pants and a surge of pride rushes through you.

Thwack. Your ass stings from the impact of Namjoon’s palm.

“Someone’s pleased with themselves, aren’t they?” He murmurs, his hand now kneading your ass before gripping it firmly. You nod, not even attempting to hide it.

How bad would he punish you if you just sat on his dick right now?

As if reading your thoughts, Namjoon chuckles lowly, “Hop on, baby.”

Well, he doesn't need to tell you twice. You straddle him instantly, using one hand to line up his barely clothed cock with your wet pussy. And when you sink down onto him, you almost come just by the sheer context of the situation.

How many times had you replayed the image of Namjoon in these pants and wished to be right where you are now?

Your hips roll once. Twice. Your pussy sliding over hardness of his cock feels fucking incredible, and it seems that your boyfriend agrees by how he grips your hips, thrusting up against you.

“Fuck, you’re so wet, baby. I can feel you soaking through to me.” His forehead falls onto your shoulder as you continue to grind down onto him. With every shift of your hips, your clit rubs against him, pleasure building.

There barely feels like there’s a barrier in between you now. You can feel him throbbing beneath you, his fingers digging into your ass, lips pressed to your neck.

“Joon,” you moan, your movements becoming more and more urgent.

“You gonna come for me, baby?” Namjoon growls into your neck, and you nod frantically. Each roll of your hips brings you higher and higher. Your legs shake, your back arches, your eyes slam shut.

You barely register Namjoon telling you to come when you unravel completely, coming with a scream. You are lost in him, drowning in the sensation, the bliss of finally fulfilling your thirstiest dream. He’s whispering sweet nothings in your ear as you return to earth, panting.

Your limbs feel like liquid as he eases you off of him, setting you gently on the bed beside him. Namjoon stands, looks down, and laughs. Your eyes follow his gaze and you immediately groan, a sound that your boyfriend interprets as embarrassment but in reality is of mourning. His pants are ruined.

“It’s okay, baby,” Namjoon’s voice draws you to look back at his face. “I’ll just buy another pair.”

“No, buy at least three! No, four,” you immediately insist, “In different colors, too.”

It’s Namjoon’s turn to gape at you before his smile returns in full force. “You’re going to be the death of me, baby.”

“You love me,” you grin back at him as he looks at you like you hold his world in the palm of your hand.

“I really do.”

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wreckofawriter · 4 years

Text

Attention

Pairing: Cedric Diggory x reader

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: Swearing, sexual jokes

Request: @souhmhey Hello! I really like your blaise au and was wondering if you could do a hogwarts ver of 97 with bill weasley/cedric diggory since your requests is open. The reader is a slytherin btw. Thank you and take care!

#97: You are famous and we keep bumping into eachother so the media thinks we're dating

A/n: sorry for inactivity, I have no concept of time. This is a tiny bit off the prompt but oh well. (There is so much dialogue in this fic, I'm sorry.)

You hated attention. You had hated it since the second you had been birthed into the world. The world which robbed you of your privacy. The world which had dug its grimy hands into your life and tugged and pulled until it looked pretty enough to be on display. A world which everyone claimed to wish for, to envy.

It made you sick.

You had no right to complain. You knew that you were privileged, your parents had more money than they could spend even if they tried, you had grown up in a mansion which simply could not be called a house. You had the tutors, the vacations, the clothes. You had it all, well all except privacy.

Your birth was on the front page of a dozen magazines, your face tacked onto newspapers before you could even read. You were so used to the flash of lights that you stopped registering them as strange.

When you left for some faraway school in the hills of Scottland you had assumed that all of that would go away. That you wouldn’t have to fake smiles anymore or refrain from making the smallest mistake for fear of ruining your parent’s reputation.

Your father’s status as a quidditch player kept you form that unattainable dream. Whenever he spoke of the sport he told it like some fantasy, something he had done so he could soar into the sky not bring it down onto his daughter.

You snapped your eyes shut the bright flash of light only worsening your headache. As the faint burn you were all too used to faded you gathered the image of the young boy in front of you. His mouth was dropped displaying two rows of crooked teeth, his brown eyes wide with amazement.

Your jaw tightened, “Do you need something?” the tone you used was clearly threatening, hoping to break him from the trance you had unintentionally put him under. The conformity of the boy’s features lead you to believe he was either deaf or stupid.

“Well?!” You snapped and it seemed to do the trick.

He blinked a few times, his open mouth giving way for a dopey grin, “You’re y/n y/l/n.”

You scoffed considering shoving the large camera he was holding down his throat, “I don’t know who you are talking about.”

“But-”

“Move before I move you myself.” You snarled and before the kid could answer you shoved him aside and continued for your class which you were now surly to be late for. Vector wouldn’t be happy.

You entered the room already spewing apologies you should have to give.

The teacher cut you off with a pointed look and you snapped your mouth shut. There were a couple snickers from the class and your head hammered on the front of your skull.

“You have been late almost every day this week Ms. y/l/n. Is this going to continue all year or should I cut you from my class now?” Her glare was stiff.

You tried to swallow your mouth suddenly feeling too dry, “I’m very sorry professor it’s just I have to come all the way from potions, and getting through the halls can be difficult.”

Her eyebrows raised, “I don’t see any of my other students struggling to get here on time.”

“Well, I-”

“Or do you simply believe the rules of this school don’t apply to you?” She sneered and giggles erupted around you.

Your cheeks burned and you hung your head, “That’s not what I was saying professor.” you mumbled know your words fell onto emptiness.

“Ten points from Slytherin. Go take a seat next to Diggory.”

You let your mouth fall shut nodding obediently as your blood boiled beneath your skin. Eyes followed you to your seat and didn’t leave until the lesson began. Your cheeks hurt, you pushed your hands upon them attempting to cool the burn of embarrassment. You didn’t even spare a glance to the boy seated next o you, his presence barely registering as you tried to convince the earth to swallow you whole.

You really hated attention.

Cedric Diggory didn’t quite understand why so many looked his way as he passed in the halls. He was good at making friends, his words always seemed to flow so seamlessly from his mouth, he never stumbled over syllables or tripped on his tongue. He was good with people, they liked him, he never gave them a reason to do otherwise.

Students envied him, he knew that. He wasn’t oblivious to the fact that girls and boys found him attractive, he wasn’t stupid. People often treated him like he was anyway, as if his popularity had drained his common sense. It was aggravating to try and prove that his worth went past his reputation again and again.

He always paid mind to you. He was aware of your fame, well your parent’s fame. His eyes like may others had frequently wandered towards you, he had a feeling you hated when they did. Your own were always narrowed into a glare as you did everything in your power to avoid the popularity you had been gifted.

As you sat beside him, your head buried in your hands, teacher continuing with a lesson he should be listening to he felt sorry for you. Sorry that you were so often painted as a self-entitled brat, sorry for the prying eyes and the whispers behind hands.

“I could walk you from potions if you wanted.” The words had spilled from his mouth like an overflowing sink.

Your head snapped towards him, eyes hard as steel as you bored into him. “What?”

Cedric suddenly felt like a fool, something that didn’t happen all that often. He stuttered for a sentence, “I, uhh..” What had he just said to you? It was like his thoughts had been replaced with cotton.”I have the same potions as you, and um you said that you were having a hard time getting through the halls. I could walk with you.”

“Whatever.” you ignored the part of you that thought it might be a half-decent idea and scoffed, “You would only draw more attention.”

The Hufflepuff chuckled, “I suppose you’re not wrong.”

You didn’t answer, eyes now zoned to the front of the room. He let the conversation drop.

If there was one thing that you hated more than attention it was exercise. You disliked exhausting yourself, the grime, and sweat making you feel incredibly dirty as you jogged the edge of the grounds. Your breaths were labored and you felt awkward as your thighs bummed together. Despite all of the discomfort, your head felt clear. Thoughts weren’t plagued but crisp as you listened to the chirp of birds and your own pants. Finally, you gave out, your legs groaning as you halted bending over. Lacing your hands on your knees, you tried to calm your racing heart.

“Oh, hey y/n!”

And your peace was ruined.

You stood up, stuffing your hands in your pockets and trying not to look as fatigued as you felt.

Cedric looked so good it hurt. The sweat on his brow giving him the polished look of a deity. His hair was untamed yet adorable, cheeks stained apple red from the exertion. The sun which was peeking above the horizon framed him, making the boys edge hazy and warm. He smiled down at you, his breaths steady as ever.

You cussed at him not even bothering to lower your voice. You watched his face falter with confusion. “Fuck you.” You repeated, “How do you look so good after running?”

His grin jumped back, “I just stared, I’m only two miles in.”

You were tempted to slap him, “Only.” you cursed him again for good measure.

“Are you heading back towards the school? I could go with you.”

You considered his offer for a brief moment, “Whatever you monster.”

Apparently he took that as a yes because the second you began to jog again he was beside you his pace obviously slowed to fit yours.

“I was actually happy to run into you.” He hummed.

You frowned, “Why?” it was more of a pant than a question.

He shrugged, “You seem nice.”

There were a lot of things you ‘seemed’ nice was not one of them. The side glance you gave him was question enough and you heard him chuckle a bit.

“I know you think you’re all scary and everything but you’re not that bad.”

You scowled, “You don’t. Know. Me.” heavy breaths broke what was supposed to be an intimidating sentence.

He nodded, “I think I’d like to.”

You didn’t respond and instead tried to focus back into your safe world of exhaustion and exhilaration. You managed to reach the front of the school and practically collapsed.

“Are you okay?” Cedric asked his hand landing lightly on your shoulder.

Shoving it off you nodded, “I’m going to get water before I pass out.” you heaved, “Feel free to continue your workout, Diggory.”

“Alright, I’ll see you-” the door shut in his face, “-later.”

Your exhaustion kept you from ripping off the heads a group of first-years who wanted your father’s autograph on your way to class. It faded as you made your way through transfiguration and potions. When dismissed you scrambled from the classroom at a quick pace, the last thing you wanted was to be late to Arithmancy again. Being publicly ridiculed once this week was plenty for you.

You didn’t stop as your name was called behind you, shouldering through a group of students who shot you glares. You heard it again the same voice, closer now and you picked up the pace.

Your shoulder was grabbed and you spun around with such force your bag fell from your shoulder. Quills and ink crashed to the ground and you swore loudly dropping to your knees to pick up the scattered supplies.

Cedric descended beside you helping gather your things. You snatched them from his hands before he offered and continuted down the hall without even a glance in his direction. His long strides brought him to your side.

“You don’t have to worry about being late you know.” He offered you stayed unresponsive. “You’ve still got 6 minutes till class.”

You let out a bothered sigh, “Well if I’m stopped then those minutes go fast.”

Cedric frowned, “Stopped?”

“Yep. It’s always like this at the beginning of the year. The first-years slowly find out who my parents are and want autographs or pictures as if it’s somehow my responsibility to serve them.” Your voice slowly filled with annoyance like a balloon expanding with air, “It’s irritating.”

The boy beside you furrowed his brows, “I can imagine.”

As if on queue a young girl trotted up to you stopping you in your tracks.

“You’re y/n y/l/n right?” Before you could answer she continued, “I was wondering if I could have an autograph from your mother, I saw her in a movie when I was six and I-”

“I’m really sorry but we have to get to class,” Cedric spoke, cutting off the bob child.

Her eyes widened a bit, “Oh sorry, um bye then.”

You gave a half-hearted wave before glancing at the boy beside you, “Thanks.”

He grinned, “It’s no problem.”

Neither of you noticed the eyes which followed you down the hall.

The Weasley twins had a special talent when it came to being bothersome. And they were sure to use it to their full potential, making a point to leave no one out of their troubles. You included. You didn’t know them all too well but after their offer to buy autographs from you and them sell them for a profit they had always stuck in your head.

“Ah, but if it isn’t my favorite celebrity.” Fred grinned his arm draping around your shoulder before being quickly shoved off.

“Well if it isn’t my least favorite red-head.” You respond attempting to return to the open textbook in front of you.

“It’s only natural that you like me more than him.” George grinned sitting beside you.

“Nah, you’re tied for last.” You mumbled scribbling down notes on a messy roll of parchment.

The younger twin frowned, “Are you sure I’m not beating him?”

You looked up at him amusement etched into your features, “Positive.”

Fred popped some of the jelly slugs sitting beside you into his mouth, chewing obnoxiously loud. “So you and Diggory huh?”

You stiffened, glancing up at him.

“I didn’t think he was your type.” George grinned catching one of the candies in his mouth as his twin tossed it over your head.

You scrunched your nose, “What?”

“Oh come on y/l/n, don’t be coy.”

“No reason to be shy, we all know you and the Hufflepuff prince are boning.” the younger giggled.

Your mouth went dry, “What did you just say?”

Fred hummed, “Wow you’re better at acting than I thought, I guess you take after your mother.”

“I haven’t the slightest clue what you’re talking about.” You sputtered.

“Wait really?”

You nodded.

“So you and Cedric aren’t dating?”

You scoffed, “God no, where in hell did you get that idea?”

The reflections shot glances at each other.

“The whole school thinks you are,” George stated plainly.

You slammed your textbook shut in a vicious snap, eyes from around the library drawing towards you. “That fucker.” You hissed and in a second you were on your feet.

You didn’t have to look very long to find the brunette. He was only a few corridors form the library a small group of people huddled with him.

“Diggory!” Your voice cut the pleasant atmosphere in two.

“Oh hey y/n, I was just looking fo-” Before his sentence could be finished you had snatched him by the tie and began dragging him behind you.

A series of whistles and calls followed you around the corner where you slammed open a door and shoved him into a small closet.

“Y/n whats are you doing?” He asked loosening his tie which you had unintentionally sinched around his neck.

Your hands met his shoulders pushing him back as hard as you could manage. Cedric stumbled, his back hitting the door with a thunk.

“You asshole!” You spat leaning over him, “How dare you?”

Cedric was bewildered, the anger clear on your face in the dull lighting. Your breaths were heavy, the sharp scent of mint hitting him, “I’m sorry what?”

You sneered, “Don’t you dare lie to me Diggory. I know what you did.” You had grabbed his tie again, forcing him to lower his head to meet your eyes.

“What did I do?” He asked, his cheeks feeling unbearably hot from the close proximity.

You scoffed, “I don’t know, how about telling the entire school we’re fucking dating?”

Cedric frowned, “I didn’t tell anyone we were dating.”

Now it was your turn to look baffled, “Then who did?”

Before your question could be answered you were falling forward, the door opening the two of you tumbling out into the sudden overwhelming brightness. You screwed your eyes shut in response, your ears catching the sound of laughter and whistles. You were brought your senses abruptly, the crowd gathered around you giggling behind their hands.

“Damn Cedric, I thought you were classier than a quickie in a closet.” Someone snickered.

You lept off the boy you had been straddling moments before your cheeks burning from embarrassment. Cedric sat up, his own face tinged red as he glared at the Hufflepuff which had spoken.

You shoved your way through the crowd wishing the earth would open up and let you fall into its core. Or at least those gathered around you.

“Wait y/n!”

You didn’t turn instead holding your middle finger in the air, making sure the entirety of the group could see it before you disappeared from sight. By the time Cedric was able to push his way through the crowd to where you had turned you were gone. He cussed letting his head fall into his hands.

Cedric didn’t see you the entirety of the weekend. You weren’t in the hall for meals or out in the cooling September air where many students were finding refuge. Your absence was annoying, the thoughts of your breath fanning over the bridge of his nose, chest pressed into his only worsening the harbored feelings he had buried. Rumors of your relationship continuted to circulate, the scene caused a few days before morphing into lewd stories which made his cheeks bloom with roses. He felt partially responsible for the trouble caused for you, his friends were some of the most active in the gossip.

Cedric knew it was only a matter of time before you would be forced to converse with him. You would never skip a class.

You appeared in potions Monday and managed to convince Snape to let you leave five minutes earlier than the rest of the class. There was no escaping assigned seats in Arithmancy. Or so Cedric thought. You had used your extra time to swap seats with another student now all he could do was bore holes into the back of your styled hair from four seats back. You didn’t even give him a chance during meals, eating quickly or simply never appearing, a girl you were with frequently taking a plate with her as she left instead.

It was aggravating. He knew that both of you barley qualified as acquaintances but having the small amount of progress he had made in your relationship ripped from him less than a week in was cruel.

Cedric was more persistent than you intended him to be. You didn’t quite understand why, you hardly knew each other. Yet he tried to corner you in hallways and stop you in classes. You supposed he probably felt guilty. You almost felt bad for avoiding him.

When he wasn’t present in potions you assumed him sick or skipping. So you didn’t find the need to leave early or rush from the room. You should have known it was a trick. The second you left the room you were trapped, Cedric stood directly in front of you his gaze almost daring you to run.

You sighed rolling your eyes, “Ok fine. You got me.”

“Can we talk?” He asked his hands stuffed into his robe pockets.

“Aren’t we all ready?” You challenged.

He shook his head softly, “Please?”

“There’s nothing to talk about.” You huffed.

“It will take thirty seconds.”

Your eyes narrowed, you knew it would take longer but your curiosity was killing you, what could he possibly have to say? Your money was on some useless apology.

“Fine.”

You were lead deeper into the dungeons beginning to suspect he was going to murder you where your screams couldn’t be heard until he came to a stop in some far away corridor.

You crossed your arms tapping your foot impatiently, “Well?”

Cedric felt that unfamiliar twist in his stomach as he looked down at you, his hand scratching at the back of his neck, “Well I wanted to say sorry.”

You sneered at this, “Are you serious? If this what you dragged me here for then you can just tell your friends that they are dumbasses with no life of their own so they have to stick their nose in other peoples to stay entertained and leave.”

The Hufflepuff was taken aback, “Oh no that’s not it, umm, you, I mean I have-”

“Spit it out Diggory,” you demanded.

He nodded, “Right, uh I like you y/n.”

Your eyes shot wide.

“And I was just wondering if you would let me take you out.” He finished feeling better now that the words had been spoken. The moment was ruined quickly.

“No.” Your answer was plain.

“Oh.” Cedric wasn’t sure what he expected, but it certainly wasn’t that.

You sighed, the boy’s face now deflated like a sad puppy. The odd feeling of guilt settled in your stomach, “It’s not because of you.” You assured him, “I mean your talented and hot and nice and everything, it’s just I don’t want to deal with all the shit.”

His cheeks flushed at the complaint but his lips twitched into a frown, “What shit?”

“Ya know.” You spoke gesturing around you, “Your friends and the rumors and everything. I’ve already got enough on my plate, I don’t need anymore.”

Cedric nodded, understanding, “Then give me a chance.”

You hummed a question.

“The astronomy tower tomorrow night, meet me there after curfew and let me prove I’m worth it,” he explained.

You blinked owlishly at him, head tilted slightly to the side, “Seriously?”

“Yeah. One date, no commitment, if you don’t like it can go back to ignoring me and no one will know.”

His offer was tempting. The way his eyes glimmered with hope only making it more enticing. So you gave in, “Alright.”

A smile stretched his lips, “Really?”

You shrugged, “Why not?”

“You won’t regret it.”

Part of you already knew that.

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sparklingchan · 4 years

Text

Mischief Managed || Kim Doyoung(NCT)

Pairing : Reader(fem.) X Doyoung

Word count : 7k+

Warnings : A few cuss words here and there, gets suggestive towards the end, not proof read I’m sorry :(

Genre : Fluff, a hint of angst , romance, Hogwarts au, fake dating au.

Description: You are forced to befriend Kim Doyoung under unexpected circumstances but as two lonely souls meet, you find yourself enjoying his company a little too much.

A/N : I had the idea for this fic while I was travelling but I was too lazy to actually write it until recently. Harry Potter aus just never seem to bore me no matter how many times I write them ( it’s fate at this point XD)

Enjoy!

Doyoung is bad at taking criticism. Not even sulky bad but angry, tantrum throwing bad. He'd rather be slapped than criticized. Metaphorically, of course.

"What do you mean she won't go on a date with me?" Doyoung hisses ,his voice an octave lower than usual. The bedroom consisting of three noisy boys suddenly falls silent at his words. For the first time in forever.

Jaehyun shifts in his place , the soft mattress dipping under his weight. He looks at his friend full of concern. "Look , you're not the only person trying to ask her out. I heard that some Gryffindor boys were trying to shoot their shot this morning. And that's just the beginning."

Doyoung clenches his blanket into his fists, "Claire is mine. They can't have her."

Johnny scoffs from his bed , his eyes never leaving the book he had been reading from the past one week, "Are you sure the sorting hat did a good job by putting you into Ravenclaw? That pride of yours sure does sound like Slytherin to me."

"Oh shut up. That's not even the point right now. I need Claire to go on a date with me. It's not a matter of interest anymore, it's a matter of pride. I will not back down just because there's competition." Doyoung shoots back.

The boys' room erupts with Johnny and Jaehyun's laughter, their beds shaking with vibrations and their voices probably disturbing the people sitting outside in the Ravenclaw common room. But it's been a long time since either of them have cared for what other people say. Ever since the three boys met on the Hogwarts Express six years ago , they've been inseparable, finding a home , a family in each other. And as time passes by, they're only formulating a stronger bond , unbeknown to the rest of the world.

By the time Jaehyun and Johnny come down from their laughter high, Doyoung is already throwing a fit , muttering under his breath , and clutching his blanket like his life depended on it. Typical angry Kim Doyoung.

"Everything else is fine, Dodo, but does Claire even know you?" Jaehyun asks, fanning his red face.

"Of course not , Jae. But in the sea of all the other boys ,she'd obviously notice our Doyoung first!"

Doyoung sucks in a deep,frustrated breath, reaching under his pillow to find his wand - Alder Wood, Dragon heartstrings core (11 inch) - his one true best friend.

"Aguamenti." Doyoung murmurs, ponting his wand at them. With a big splashing sound , a stream of water squirts out from the end of the wand , wetting everything that comes in contact with it - including Jaehyun and Johnny and everything else they possess.

That night , as the two boys try to dry themselves and the rest of their belongings, Doyoung stares up at the wooden ceiling, carved beautifully into swirls and waves and flowers ,he wonders why his friends think he wouldn't be able get Claire to go out with him, why did they make it seem so hard when it really wasn't.

His ego feels hurt, injured even. Maybe Johnny is right - maybe Doyoung is more Slytherin than Ravenclaw, but it didn't matter anymore. Because the Slytherin princess Claire would be his by the time Halloween arrives, no matter what and his ego and pride would be restored.

Or at least that is what he had initially planned.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

Everyone has that one subject they truly hate with every fiber of their being. They might not be particularly good or bad at it , but they often wonder the significance of this immeasurably disliked subject in their lives. For Doyoung, it is the potions class.

Brewing potions, remembering the recipes, knowing the job of each ingredient seemed too heavy a job for a divination loving man like Doyoung. Potions is way too practical, way too boring.

"Psst, Jae." The class must have been going on for about barely ten minutes when Doyoung decides he's had enough and that he would rather get in trouble for disturbing his friends.

"Jae, I'm bored. Johnny is in quidditch practice too." Doyoung pokes Jaehyun's back with the end of his wand. The latter squirms in his seat, subtle enough to not disturb anyone in the class, who unlike a certain Kim Doyoung were attentively listening to the professor.

"What?" Jaehyun turns back only enough to meet Doyoung's bored gaze.

"I think I'm going to ask Claire out today. During dinner. What do you think?" Doyoung whispers.

Jaehyun shakes his head , putting his quill down on the table, "Are you sure? You guys haven't even talked properly yet."

Doyoung stays silent for a few seconds because yes, Jaehyun is right. He doesn't even know what she likes , where is she from, who her friends are but he is willing to take the risk. For someone as beautiful as Claire, Doyoung would risk the whole world.

"I mean I can try, right?"

There's a sudden scoff escaping from your lips - whose name Doyoung never bothered to ask - sitting next to Jaehyun, the green of your robe hinting at your belongingness to Slytherin. "You're stupid, Kim Doyoung. Claire is not going to go out with you. Especially not when you're being such a creep." You say, your eyes fixed on the professor and your quill writing notes in quick movements.

Creep? Did you just call Doyoung a creep?

"Y/n, it's none of your business." Jaehyun rolls his eyes , "Stay out of it."

"Why? Is Mr.Snowflake here too egoistic to face the truth?" You turn around to look at Doyoung, a smirk finding it's way to your lips.

Doyoung clenches his fists, nibbling at his bottom lip as anger fills him up like water filling up in an empty jar; quick and to the brim.

"I don't remember asking for your opinion, " he says, then bitterly adds, "Miss Y/n ,who no one happens to care much about."

The sound of scratching of quills and quiet mutter of spells fills the air for a few seconds before you say something.

"I'm not giving you my opinion, it's just an advice. From first hand experiences. Many men have tried to win Claire over yet only a few of them have ever succeeded. " you say, "And boys like you often tend to seek her only because she's good looking so she actively makes sure to avoid your kind. ,"

Jaehyun looks at you ,stunned, "How do you know all that? Are you guys friends?"

Doyoung is not sure what to say anymore - he's as confused as Jaehyun is, maybe a tad bit more. For someone he'd properly talked to for the first time today, you sure do have a lot to say about his personal choices and ambitions. Big words do not faze him anymore.

"No , we're not friends." You giggle, "I'm her cousin. You almost couldn't tell, right?"

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

"It's finally Hogsmade weekend again. I thought I was going to suffocate in that stupid common room of ours." Johnny sighs , waddling towards his bed and slumping down like a little boy.

"Yes, I also need a cup of butter beer the first thing we arrive there." Jaehyun says, "What about you, Dodo?"

Dodo ,on the other hand is far too gone in the sea of his thoughts to pay heed to what his friends have to say. His eyes are on the patterns of the ceiling but his mind is with Claire and mostly with you, who he unintentionally might have offended today during potions class. Doyoung didn't have any particular interest in you per se but as Claire's cousin, it is important for Doyoung to be accepted by you first. You might be a know-it-all ,annoying and ghostly but he needs to befriend you again, start everything from scratch. And who knows ,if he got lucky enough, you'd put in a word or two on his behalf to Claire.

"What's he thinking about?" Johnny whispers to Jaehyun, "Did something happen?"

Jaehyun shrugs, "Usually, I'd say he's thinking about Claire but today,I'm not so sure."

The next morning is as noisy as all of their Hogsmade mornings have been. Doyoung only remembers hearing Jaehyun's yells and Johnny's giggles and the Hufflepuff girls singing a beautiful Winter song on the journey to Hogsmade village.

No matter how hectic it is, he has always liked these weekends the best.

"Have they changed their services to self service or what?" Johnny asks ,tapping the marble surface of the table in the Three Broomsticks, "Where's Madam Rosmerta?"

Doyoung shrugs ,his eyes scanning the unusually quiet room. He realises that the only company they have is the empty chairs and tables and the flying bottles of water emptying themselves into small glasses. "Should we just grab our drinks and put the money on the counter?" Jaehyun offers.

Before either of them could answer, the main door of the room slams open, urgent with force and the three boys see you rush inside, panting and huffing and murmuring. Your hair is messy and your clothes are disheveled, yet Doyoung thinks you look...different. Different from what you look like at school at least. Better ,even.

"I'm sorry I'm late. We weren't expecting guests so early. I hope I-" you stop mid sentence when you realize Doyoung and the other two boys were the only ones in the pub, "Oh. It's just you three."

"Yes,y/n, it's just us. Can you get us three butterbeers please?" Jaehyun says.

You sigh with disappointment. A 'hi, y/n, how are you?' would have been nice but then again when has anyone ever bothered to greet you with so much sweetness? Jaehyun and you are study partners , to say in a way. You never bothered to befriend him and he never bothered to do the same so that's just how its been since first year - studying together in the library and pretending the other person doesn't exist under normal circumstances. You liked it that way but sometimes, just sometimes you did wish Jaehyun tried to treat you in a more friendly way.

"What's she doing here?" Doyoung ,who is genuinely taken aback by your presence, asks.

"She works part time here. Madam Rosmerta is a family friend of hers." Jaehyun answers.

If Madam Rosmerta is a family friend of yours then she must be a family friend of Claire too, Doyoung connects in his head, and Claire's name somehow ignites a fire of enthusiasm within him.

He drags his chair across the floor and gets up , walking toward the counter where you're working. A little nervous Doyoung is , but he still manages to start a conversation with you, "Hey, y/n ,right?"

You swiftly twirl your wand around in the air , and ten cups of butterbeer and gillyweed water present themselves on a tray. You turn away from him to clean up the other plates , "What do you need?"

"I um..wanted to apologize for the insensitive comment I made yesterday. We started off on the wrong foot, I'm really sorry." He says, rubbing the back of his neck. Autumn is starting to set in slowly, but Doyoung feels the sweat sticking to his skin as if it were a hot summer morning.

You pause for a second. What was he apologizing for? You honestly couldn't recall and whatever it might have been, you are sure that it wasn't worse than what your other classmate have said before ; which is why you don't remember Doyoung's supposed insensitive comment.

"It's fine. Don't worry about it, " You say, "I've had worse, actually."

Doyoung's heart drops - there is no phrase more pain inducing than the one you'd just spewed out so carelessly. And for some god forbidden reason, Claire suddenly slips out of his conscience mind.

"No, no. I want to start anew. Be your friend." Doyoung insists, leaning against the cold wooden counter.

You sigh, "Are you sure that's what your intention is? Because I don't think so. "

Doyoung scowls, "Of course that's my intention. What else would it be, y/n?"

You swing your wand and three glasses of butterbeer arrive directly in front of him. His eyes widen for a split second but he bounces back quickly.

"Just say that you need help with Claire." You sigh.

Oh,right ,Claire. Shit how could I forget? Doyoung feels silly.

"I mean...in a way yes. But that's for the later part. Let's first be friends, yeah?"

You shake your head , "If I help you out with Claire ,will you stop trying to be my friend?"

You absolutely despise yourself at times like these - when you are trying so hard to push people away when they're only trying to befriend you (for whatever reason it might be). You're so lonely yet so afraid of attachments that you always tend to do this. The same repeated routine. You hate it. You sometimes wonder what it would feel like to be in Claire's place, to be loved by everyone, to have people lining up just to take you out on one date . But it would never happen, because Claire is Claire : the Slytherin Princess and you are just you..someone who has barely ever talked to more than one person at school.

Doyoung gulps and then nods, "Okay. I will." Because befriending a Slytherin outcast will never be more important than scoring a date with the Slytherin Princess.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

The Hogwarts Library is most empty during noon, something which you've concluded with years of experience and getting shoved out of your seat by your classmates who are way above you on the social ladder.

"So, " Doyoung finds a comfortable seat opposite to you , his hands fiddling with the pages of his diary, " how have you been?"

You give him a tired smile, "Can we get straight to point? I hate casual conversation. "

Doyoung snickers, "Wow, aren't you approachable today."

You lean back into your chair , eyes scanning Doyoung's face for any signs of regret . You'd never been the warm, bright sunshine kind of a person and you have accepted it without much protest. But of course, people take a lot of time to grow used to your sharpness and more often than not, people walk away even before you soften around them. It's a survival mechanism, you always convince yourself.

"What do you want help with? Do you want to know about her interests or past relationships or something else ?"

Doyoung pouts, his mind filling up with all sorts of ideas to impress Claire. It's like he's hit a jackpot by meeting you.

"I want to know what I have to do to gain Claire's interest. Be her friend and then eventually, a boyfriend, if I'm lucky enough." He suggests.

"First of all ,you need to stop gawking at her from afar. You need to start conversations with her ,no matter how short. She likes it when people approach her first." Talk about having a big ass ego.

"Okay, noted." One quick wave of his hand and his quill is immediately noting down sentences in his diary, " You seem to know her quite well. You guys are close, I am assuming."

You and Claire used to be close. Used to. In the past tense. As children you were inseparable, but as you slowly grew up, she realised how boring and uncool you were and that you belong to the shadows while she belongs in the spotlight. She's not tried to talk to you first for a long time now. But you weren't about to explain all of this to Doyoung, who is visibly smitten by your estranged cousin so you just shake your head , "No, not anymore."

Your ears perk up at the unexpected sound of approaching footsteps towards you and before you could ask Doyoung to relocate to a more secluded area, you hear her loud and clear voice.

Claire.

"Oh, hey, Doyoung!" She greets the man in front of you, walking upto his side. Her shiny shoes creating a tip-tap noise against the floor, and the green of your robe almost feels dull as compared to her bright one.

When her eyes fall on you, her mouths twists as if she had one of those stupid vomit flavored chocolates. "What are you doing here, y/n?" She sneers at you.

If you could ever get a hold of the invisibility cloak, the first thing you'd do is slap this bitch right across her face. She has always had this sense of superiority , even when she's never done anything quite as heroic or deserving of that fame. And it infuriates you even further when you see Doyoung freeze in his seat, eyes glued to Claire's face.

"We were studying. I was about to leave now anyway." You mumble , gathering your books and tucking them under your arm.

When Doyoung hears your chair drag across the floor , he snaps out of his trance.

Why were you leaving? You promised you'd help, why couldn't you put away your past tensions and deal with it?

"Hey, where are you going?" He grabs your arm out of the blue, sending a wave of shock jolting through your body.

You immediately pull your hand back, "I'm hungry. I want to eat something."

Claire glares at the two of you and how suspicious your behavior is , you'd always been weird but she never took Doyoung for the weird kind at all.

You quickly jog away from the scene , cheeks tinted red.

Doyoung suddenly comes with a horrendous idea and he knows you'd hate it but in the heat of the moment, this feels like the only sane idea to make you stay and help him . He looks at Claire directly in the eye ,making sure to keep his voice as loud as possible so you could hear it too,

"Y/n and I are dating."

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

The red, orange leaves rustle under your feet , disrupting the otherwise silent walk back to the Slytherin dormitories. A cold wind blows and you tighten the muffler around your neck.

"Y/n, I've been looking everywhere for you. "

And there is that leech again, making sure you don't come to have a single second of peace in your already hectic daily lives. For the past one week, Kim Doyoung has latched himself onto you like a leech latches to it's host. Wherever you go, he goes. It's maddening.

"I told you to stay away from me, Doyoung! Our deal is over. " you yell at him , your feet picking up a faster pace.

Without even looking back, you know that he is groaning under his breath, the look of hopelessness evident in his otherwise sparkling eyes.

"Our deal was that you help me. You're not helping me out at all! You're treating me like I'm invisible." he replies.

Just how I'd been invisible for years to you, you think.

"I didn't agree to be a bait in this stupid love game of yours. You literally pushed me down the cliff to save yourself. " you say. You feel a sudden gush of wind on your face and Doyoung is standing right in front of you - inches away, instead of a few feet behind you.

You gasp, "You apparated! Kim Doyoung, this is against the school rules."

Doyoung bites down on his lower lip, throat growing dry with anxiousness. He couldn't explain why - he'd apparated before within the school grounds and it's been okay then why is he feeling dizzy all of a sudden? But on second thoughts, maybe it wasn't the apparition that caused the dizziness, maybe it was the spooky possibility of you hating him for lying about you two dating that triggered it. And like salt dissolves in water and disappears into the liquid, Claire- who is the original cause of all of Doyoung 's concern, disappears from his thoughts. All that matters to him now is that you speak with him again and forgive him for his impulsive words . He wants to assure you that you aren't a bait , at all.

"Just hear me out, please. I promise. " he says, "if you don't talk to me, I'll try to be your friend. I assume you don't want that."

You sigh , pressing a hand to your face, "Okay, spill. And be quick. I have club work."

Doyoung nods, a small smile forming on his lips. He leads you under a bushy tree nearby, sitting down on the stone bench constructed there. You follow suit. "I'm sorry for telling Claire that we're dating but I was in a critical situation at that time, okay?"

You frown, "That's all you had to say? You aren't here to persuade me into fake dating you so you could make Claire jealous?"

Gosh , Doyoung , why do you keep forgetting your main motive of talking to y/n?

He blinks at you awkwardly, "Primarily, yes. But now that you've said it...it does sound like a good idea. "

You deadpan. Your eyes close as your lips heave out a tired sigh. Just when you thought he was here to actually talk to you and not about Claire.

"Fine ,whatever. Just don't be a creep or I'll bury you alive." You huff.

Doyoung giggles as his eyes curve into cute little cresent moons.He has a pretty smile , you catch yourself thinking.

He scoots over closer to you ,pinching your cheek. "Okay ,madam. I won't creep you out but I cannot guarantee that I won't flirt with you . I have a thing for Slytherin girls, you know.", He winks.

Your cheeks heat up involuntarily.

"Bye. I have work." You get up, walking away hastily.

"Bye! See you tomorrow at The Three Broomsticks," he calls out behind you,"Babe."

You'd never smiled so wide in your life.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

Your part time job at The Three Broomsticks has never felt so much like a blessing than right now - when Kim Doyoung casually sits on the floor with you and helps clean the utensils.

"Are guests rare on weekends?" Hs asks as a white cloth floats around in the air, drying up the freshly washed utensils.

"They're less in the morning but it gets very crowded by sun down. Aunt Rosmerta joins me by that time." You reply.

Doyoung nods ,his eyes glaring at the white cloth when it falls at his feet. "Wingardium Leviosa. " he mutters and the cloth goes back to doing its work, while Doyoung carefully guides it using his wand.

"When do you have to go back?" You ask, purely out of curiosity as to why he is so into the role of your boyfriend when no one is even watching. You would rather die than admit it , but you liked this attention. A lot more than you thought you would.

"Whenever you're done. A good boyfriend accompanies his girlfriend ,right?"

Oh, the beating of your heart that suddenly picks up its speed at his words. A combination of words you'd never thought you'd hear in this lifetime, from anyone at all.

"Yeah,whatever. " you whisper under your breath.

Doyoung giggles ,leaning forward toward you , "Why are so shy ,y/n?"

"I'm not shy." You smack his forehead, "You're just being a creep."

Doyoung fake gasps, clutching the left side of his chest and blinks his eyes as if he were tearing up. "Ouch ,y/n,how could you say that to your own boyfriend?"

You roll your eyes but the smile on your lips doesn't disappear.

Before either of you could reply , the door of the pub clicks open and you immediately get up , dusting off your clothes , ready to welcome guests. Doyoung, who is very new to this , tries to mimic your careful, calculated actions.

"Hello, welcome to the Three Broomsticks-" your words are cut off when you see Claire , as glamorous and confident as ever, walking toward the both of you. Your heart sinks. You feel betrayed , annoyed even ; just the way little children feel when their favorite toy is taken away from them and given to someone else and Claire has, in fact, had a history of taking away a lot of your favorite toys when you were kids.

"Good morning, Doyoung," she greets him with the prettiest smile but it fades away as she turns to you, "You too ,y/n."

"What do you want?" You ask her, rather terse in tone.

She tilts her head , her bright red tinted lips sending a flirty smile in Doyoung's direction, "I'm here to see my friend Doyoung and well ,his new girlfriend. "

You scoff - since when has Doyoung become her friend? Last you checked, Doyoung wasn't even sure she knew him.

"Since when have you and Doyoung been friends, Claire? That's some news to me." You say.

Claire glares at you, "Well, I've always liked Doyoung. Too bad a dumb girl like you got to him first. I shouldn't have waited for him to approach me first , right?"

Doyoung - who until a minute ago was genuinely mesmerized by Claire's unexpected visit is now turning to frown at her. "You can take him if you want. I don't mind." You suggest ,turning away from them.

"Yayy, Doyoung ,you heard your girlfriend? Come on , let's go to the candy shop and enjoy there! It'd be so much fun!" Claire pulls at his blue-black muffler. He backs away a little. The image of Claire he had in his head was ..well, different from this arrogant , possessive woman in front of him. He feels disappointed but also relieved?

"Um - actually I'd rather stay here and help y/n, " you snap toward him faster than light , "I dislike candies anyway. Sorry, Claire."

When Claire's mouth gapes with surprise, Doyoung leans backward and pulls you into him , arm wrapped around your shoulder and chin resting on your head. Your heart hammers hard against your chest as all your senses blur away , only the feeling of Doyoung's warm body pressed against yours is what keeps you grounded to reality.

Its fake, y/n , get yourself together.

"Fine. " Claire growls and stomps away, mumbling curses under her breath.

The moment she walks out of the door ,you shove Doyoung away , "What the hell are you doing! She invited you to hang out with her and you let the chance go!"

He blinks at you , puzzled as if he is finally coming back to his senses. "Oh - oh ,its okay. I'll get another chance since she apparently likes me too. Don't worry about it."

I'm not worrying about it , you idiot , I'm happy about it , you want to say to him. But there are some words you'd rather never say out loud.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

"Where are we going?" Doyoung huffs , jogging down the lush green hill leading straight to the Forbidden Forest. Fear is evident on his face , and it's rather amusing to see him like this.

"The Forbidden Forest, obviously," you say , pointing at the tall, strong tress that patiently await your arrival into the forest.

"What? Y/n, that's against the school rules. It's way past sun down now!" He hisses but still keeps jogging beside you.

You grin at him, "Says the man who apparates in broad daylight!"

The woods are as cold and spooky as ever , but not unfamiliar. To you atleast. You often come here when you need to get away from everyone else. You would sit at the top of the tallest tree, the soft breeze blowing away all your worries along with it. And the creatures in the forest have never bothered you anyway. You don't know why you are bringing Kim Doyoung - your pretend boyfriend- to a place that holds so much importance to you and is like your escape from the world, but this place was the first and only one to come into your mind the moment Doyoung said you should choose the location for your next 'date'.

"So how do we get up there?" Doyoung and you stand at the roots of the tree. He looks up at the branches in awe and you look at him with admiration - when he's not running his mouth around uselessly everywhere ,he's not that bad to be with , you realize.

"We apparate , you idiot." Wrapping a firm hand around his arm, you apprate to the topmost branch of the tree, the wind suddenly knocked out of your lungs at the sudden shift. You laugh a little.

"Wow, you're breaking rules." He comments. He doesn't bother to remove your hand from his and neither do you - so you end up sitting there , shoulders touching and breaths matching.

"You know when I first met you , I almost took you for a Ravenclaw. If it hadn't been for your robe, that is." He says , looking at the beautifully lit school building that seems to be floating around near the horizon. This is more magical than any magic he's ever been taught , he thinks , he'd never seen Hogwarts this way - so far away yet so close, so peaceful, so breathtaking. The starry sky acts like a beautiful backdrop and your soft hand wrapped around his arm makes him ten times more attentive to every sound and every sight. He wants you to never let go - even if Claire or anyone else somehow appears out of nowhere.

"I get that a lot, actually. " you chuckle , "and ironically ,I almost mistook you for a Slytherin."

Doyoung looks at you in amusement. What a peculiar coincidence!

"But now that I think about it, it doesn't matter what kind of traits you show. The sorting hat doesn't put just traits into consideration- it puts in your will too. You belong where you want to belong. Nowhere else." He replies.

You stare at him, and get embarrassed at how wonderfully close he is to you right now. All your life ,this is what you've craved; this warmth , this closeness and fake or not, you're thankful for it.

"Wow, that's some deep words, Kim Doyoung. I didn't know you had them in you." You comment.

"Hey, why can't you call me something cute?" He whines , "Kim Doyoung is too formal."

You pinch his cheeks, adoration pumping through your veins for the man in front of you. "Okay, I'll call you Dodo then. "

He is left wide eyed again, his face red with embarrassment. He never took you for the observant type at all.

"I heard Jaehyun call you that."

The moon shines at your face , highlighting your features like no make up ever could. He notices your hooded gaze and the happy stretch of your lips and the strands of hair that sway with the wind. He leans in closer , "Hey, now that I look at you up close , you're not that bad to look at."

You're not that bad to look at either, Dodo.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

Jaehyun has this annoying habit of tapping his wand against the table when he is studying , and he has never even tried to rectify himself whenever you call him out several times.

"Can you stop that? I'm trying to study. " you groan in a quiet voice.

The library- much to your dislike - is packed with people this afternoon. Yellows and reds and blues and green , all of them seem to have decided to use the library in the afternoon today of all days.

"Yeah. Sorry. " he says and puts his wand down, flipping the pages of his notebook carelessly ,"but um -y/n, can I ask you something?"

Looking up from your Potions book , you nod , "Yes, of course. "

Jaehyun shifts and gulps ,visibly worried and anxious about whatever he is about to ask you. It's not like him to ever be so nervous around anyone. He was usually very uptight and spoke only when spoken to. This is very new.

"How long are you and Doyoung going to continue this fake dating thing on for? It's been half a month already." He asks.

Now it's your turn to be nervous.

"I-I don't really know. It depends on how fast Doyoung is able to get Claire to go out with him. I guess." You reply with an awkward laugh, "I hope the day comes soon."

You'd been so immersed in fake dating Doyoung all along, trying to spend every waking hour with him , taking care of him, laughing at his stupid jokes that you almost forgot everything was just a show to get Claire to go out with him. And as Halloween comes closer , you are sure the end of your supposed relationship is coming closer too. Your heart breaks at the sudden reality check. Like a glass vase thrown on a hard ,wooden floor.

"Okay, don't tell Doyoung I asked you about it - " he pauses when you both hear a woman's voice from behind you , startling the two of you.

"Hello, dear cousin. " Claire says with a big smile. Her arms are crossed in front of her chest, robe loosely tied around her body,"What are you doing in this stupid library on your birthday, y/n? Shouldn't you be celebrating with Doyoung ?"

Her words have never slapped you as hard as they do right now. She's been mean to you for almost half your life , but this time it hurts worse. You've always been insecure about your birthday, and Claire knows it. She knows how much you hate bringing attention to yourself and you'd rather get some small gifts from your parents than big gifts from people who you barely know. And she's now using all that against you.

"Or did he not bother to ask you, just like all of your former friends?" She smirks.

You know that feeling when there's a small wound on your body and a single contact to the wounded area hurts unbearably? That's what her words made you feel like. Sick and pathetic.

But you don't let it surface on your face. You muster up all your courage before speaking up, "Claire, are you so jealous of me dating Doyoung that you're bringing up past incidents to make yourself feel good?"

Claire is left astonished by your new found boldness and for the first time in forever, she doesn't comment back at you after you turn on your heels and walk away from the scene.

You are far too weak and slow to actually walk down to the Forbidden Forest, so you settle yourself on the top floor of the astronomy tower. The cold ground under you feels weirdly comfortable and the ticking of the grand clock helps you calm down your nerves.

Claire has never treated you like an equal in your entire life and you've tried so hard to ns like her always . To fit in to her ideas of an interesting person. She was your sister, she is your sister yet you've never despised anyone as much as you do now. And to imagine that Kim Doyoung, your Dodo might end up dating her just makes you feel sick to the stomach. Jealousy is an intense feeling but so is hatred.

You hear quick footsteps walking up the stairs and by impulse, you point your wand in that direction,"Expelli-"

"Hey, hey. Don't 'expelliarmus' me. I'm just here to celebrate my best girl's birthday. "

Kim Doyoung stands in front of you , hands occupied with bags of delicious candies and sweets. He smiles at you sheepishly as you call him over to sit beside you.

"Why didn't you tell me its your birthday today? This is all I could manage in a span of fifteen minutes." He complains ,placing the bag softly in your lap, "Happy birthday, y/n."

You smile , a little embarrassed but thankful still , "Thanks. Jaehyun told you?"

Doyoung nods ,scooting over closer to you. In presence of so much space on the floor, he somehow manages to almost cuddle with you in a small corner of the place. Your heart is no longer sitting in the cage of your chest ; it's escaped and landed onto Doyoung's palms ,giving him full freedom to do whatever he wanted with it.

"Doyoung ,I..um.."

"Yeah?"

Words , oh ! words have never been your forte. The only thing you were good at was actions - to express, to show , to communicate . That's all you've ever known.

So you lean in towards his face and place a chaste kiss on his lips. It lasts for a fraction of a second but your lips are left burning with the desire for more. More of him, more of this.

But when you see his face once you pull away, your blood runs dry. For a moment, you think so you see a flicker of happiness which quickly gets replaced by coldness, frustration, some degree of anger.

"Y/n, you know I like Claire!" He says , separating himself from you. Your body feels bare, "This was all for her. How could you ever think doing this would be a good idea?"

No,it wasn't for Claire. It was barely an excuse to bother you more, to see you roll your eyes at him , to spend time with you, but as Johnny says , his ego is too big to accept his liking towards you and not Claire.

He gets up.

"I-I will be leaving now."

He hasn't completely put a full stop to your fake relationship, he hasn't even said anything much yet but you know that he's left not just the astronomy tower, he's left you. All alone. As they always do.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

Only the heavens know how you've barely managed to make it through a whole week avoiding Doyoung. The tear stains on your pillow , the muffled sobs in the washroom, the torn pages of your notebook are the only witnesses of your turmoil. For everyone else, you were still y/n, the girl who barely talks to anyone . And maybe, that's everything you'll ever be no matter how hard you try.

It is Hogsmade Weekend and Halloween which means you'll be packed with guests at the Three Broomsticks. It's a good thing ,you hope, it'll help keep you distracted from any painful thoughts and memories.

The cups and glasses and bottles dance around you as you put the chairs in place, your wand doing most of the work while you quietly murmur spells. It feels rather abnormal not having Doyoung around to help you. It feels too quiet ,even though the quietness is familiar to you.

A faint click sound echoes in the room and you immediately snap to look at the main door.

"Y/n?" Doyoung's head gently pokes in through the small gap in the door, “Happy Halloween.”

Your heart stops beating for a solid second, brain going fuzzy with a mixture of fear, excitement and relief. You want to run towards him and jump into his arms like how people do in those muggle movies but you restrain yourself; since it's not your place to do that. Not after you'd kissed him out of nowhere a week ago.

"Y-yea?" You stutter nervously, dragging a chair away from the table just to make it look like you are busy with work.

"Can we talk?"

Doyoung has always been very persuasive and he knows exactly what to say at a given instance. He's a Ravenclaw, after all. So he finds his way towards the table ,shyly so , and he pulls a chair for you to sit on ,"I won't take long, I swear."

You nod and sit. Better to be done with it than avoid it. "What is it? Shouldn't you be at Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop? Enjoying with Claire and the other cool people?" You ask.

Doyoung gulps ,"Yes, I was there a minute ago. But it's too noisy there. I don't like it." And it's too dull without you.

"Okay. What did you want to talk about ?"

He plays with the buttons of his warm looking purple coat, his eyes shifting from the tablecloth to the glasses of gillyweed water to his fingers - anywhere but you.

"I'm sorry about running away that night. It was wrong of me," he begins, "And I regret it. I really do." "When I went back to the dorms, all I could think about was you and how much I loved hanging out with you and how pretty you look even when you're not trying and how desperately I wished you'd kissed me a second longer that night so I could have kissed you back. Because I really wanted to. "

When you start to reply , he shushes you, "No, it's not Claire that I want. Maybe it never had been because I don't even know her! But I know you and I think you're the coolest person in Hogwarts. I cannot love Claire, who I know nothing of but I can love you. I want to love you. If you'd let me."

You stare at him , your tongue suddenly losing all it's sense of functioning. Your eyes bore into his ,and you see it - the sincerity, the adoration, the desire. And you realise it has always been there. Just the two of you were too stupid to see it earlier.

"Okay. I guess." You reply , rubbing the back of your neck shyly. Your cheeks are tinted red but you put no effort in hiding it anymore, " I'm sorry, I don't know how dating works. What am I supposed to do?"

Doyoung giggles , tenderly taking your face in his hands, "Just do whatever you want to. It's just me."

"I really want to kiss you. " you whisper and he immediately tilts his head such that his lips easily captures yours. The kiss is warm and cozy yet fierce. His hands are locked on either side of your face while your lips perfectly mold around his, as if they were meant to be that way since the inception of time.

You don't believe in miracles , given your magical allegiance but you do believe in fate and soulmates. You believe that there's someone for everyone out there - no one knows how or when they'll cross paths with you, but they will surely do it one day. Because no force can stop one from getting the love you deserve. It's just like a string - there's one person at each end and you're so thankful that it is Doyoung that happened to be at the other end of your string.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

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irish-chikorita · 2 years

Note

hi hi! saphabee sent me >:3 id love to learn about your ocs too!! can i ask tornado, ribbon 🎀 and/or paperclip for ire or villiam?

AAAAA HELLO :D!!!! Saph told me you would be stopping by, thank you so much for asking about my silly lil blorbos ; w ; (Also a bit of a heads up, these are Minecraft OCs. Ire is a MC Player since she is a self insert OC, and Villiam is an MC Villager, so like. a lil bit of context ghjbghjhnhnjh ;w;)

🌪️ TORNADO - what is the biggest change you’ve ever made to them? how have they changed from their original version? Oh man,,,,,, I think Villiam would be the one to have changed the most. Like Ire, she's a self insert OC, she's kind of always been consistent, but she changes a little depending on the content she's in. But Villiam is definitely not the same guy he was when he was first created. A lot of the original scenarios and ideas my friends and I had for him still apply for the most part, But as for himself in general? At first, he was kind of like? the silent gentle giant type? spoke few words, and fairly soft spoken too. Had hints of a slight mischievous bastardly personality that only came out when you really got to know him, but for the most part was just. this big calm fellow. And now? He's like. a Jock. but a nice jock who likes to read and defends you n shit. the mischievous bastardly side of him broke through and now he's a bit of a menace, but he's still a huge sweetheart. Talks a lot more then I had originally imagined for him. There's so many other changes that I can't quite pinpoint but they're there. And honestly, I'm much happier with how he is now then how I had imagined him at the start. I wouldn't have him any other way now <:D

🎀 RIBBON - how would they fit into other worlds / aus? what aus would you like to try out? what fictional world would they fit / not fit into? ohohoho,,,,,, -slaps the roof of Ire and Villiam- these bad bois can fit so many AUs in em- I have. many AUs that these two are involved in. The main AU that I focus on when I'm not thinking about OG content with both Ire and Villiam is the Modern AU, which is like. taking them from the normal Minecraft setting and throwing them into the modern day setting. But there are a bunch of other AUs i have for them as well! We got a Cowboy AU, a Royal AU, a Mermaid AU (also happy MerMay yall ❤️) and a few more laying around here in my brain somewhere. none of these AUs are nearly as developed as Modern AU, but they're still there <:D. I think for the most part, these two would be compatible with most generic AUs? I think it just really depends on if I like the vibe of the AU <:D

📎 PAPERCLIP - a random fact. Villiam's last name, Snowdra, is just. a combination of the words "Snowy Tundra" which is the type of villager he is. Because I went to Asgore Dreemurr's School of Naming Things. I made a reason for why his last name is the way in lore but that a little deeper into context then I should probably go into for a simple fun fact ^^;;;

Thank you so much for asking these questions, they were really fun to answer!!!! :D!!!!!

#OC Emoji Asks #Villiam Snowdra #Ire #oughhh im so happy I never get to openly ramble about these two like this <:D

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jinned · 4 years

Text

ornamental | namjoon | m

snippet: “So, how is this a tradition? Are we going to be making sex ornaments every Christmas?”

pairing: namjoon x female reader

genre: smut/pwp, fluff

au: domestic, married couple, slice of life, christmas time yeeyee

rating: explicit

word count: 6.6k

warnings: namjoon falls into the ocean at one point, very brief mentions of being drunk?, they’re really cute with their traditions and grossly in love lmao i hate them, implied: reader has longer hair

sexual warnings: unprotected sex, rough sex, dom/sub dynamics, sir kink, dirty talk, marking, sexual polaroids, mentions of oral (male receiving), photographing during sex, pussy slapping, Namjoon calls y/n a slut, degradation, slight body worship, orgasm denial, teasing, hair pulling, belt whipping/ass whipping, punishment receiving, a belt is used to choke y/n with, mentions of predetermined sex rules, erotic asphyxiation(EA), reader is dizzy from the EA

a/n: this is a part of the 25 days of christmas collab! collab masterlist is here! I had so much fun being a part of this! thank you so much for letting me be a part of this :)

One of the best things about being newly married is creating new traditions.

Technically, you and Namjoon have lived in the same house for two years now, but, being married makes everything feel...different. New, refreshing, something about it feels like falling in love all over again. Admittingly, you did go a little nuts on the redecorating to celebrate the new chapter in your lives. You practically bought out the entire home and furniture store within the first week of living in the new home. Namjoon definitely thought it was silly and maybe a tad bit ridiculous. Yet, he never let on. He was always right there with you, ready to give his honest and caring input. Hell, he even offered to repaint the living room that ghastly tangerine orange color. Offered.

Don’t worry. Eventually you came to your senses and opted for a more practical color: sky blue.

Sometimes you feel a little bad for Namjoon. You know you can get a little crazy and you know that your sappy ideas of love and romance were something Namjoon had to learn from. And boy, was he ever so patient and willing to adapt. Not to say you haven't adapted for him too of course.

As the seasons grew colder, the excitement between you and your new husband flourished further. When you were engaged and even dating, you would both get giddy with the first color change of fall. Because that meant Halloween was quickly approaching. And after Halloween? Thanksgiving. And after Thanksgiving is the best of them all: Christmas.

Decorations for every holiday are kept nicely in their perspective boxes, tucked carefully away in the garage which, at this point, can't even fit a car inside it anymore.

Christmas is fast approaching and although you're more than excited already, this year is going to be different. This excitement has been elevated ten fold because you and Namjoon have decided to create new Christmas traditions. And, now that you think about it, creating a new tradition every year has become its own tradition. The first Christmas you and Namjoon started dating, your tradition was to make gingerbread houses. The second year, you each bought a new Christmas themed movie and watched them on Christmas Eve. The third year, Namjoon came up with the idea to exchange favorite memories of the past year. The fourth year, you both finally broke down and found matching pajamas and finally, the fifth year, tacky Christmas card photos to send to your friends and family. Each year gains new traditions and soon you won’t have enough time in the day to do them all!

This year, you took the more mysterious route. And so did Namjoon.

When you both sat down for dinner a few days after Thanksgiving, you proposed your new Christmas tradition: personalized stockings. The idea was that you would decorate a stocking for Namjoon and fill it with his favorite things like candy, movies, and little trinkets. And he would do the same for you. Namjoon was thrilled with the idea, claiming to already have just the things he'd want to stuff your stocking with. You had thought that was that. That was the new tradition.

But, after a few more mouthfuls of food at dinner, Namjoon pitched his idea.

"I want to make personalized ornaments."

Oh, your heart fluttered right there on the spot. Namjoon has been more shy to romantic gestures, letting you lead the way. If there was something you wanted, he’d get it. If you wanted flowers every Monday, then he’d do it. But every girl knows that telling your man what you want all the time just takes the spontaneity out of things.

For him to share this comfortably and with confidence was a huge step.

Fast forward a couple of days and that's when you married the man of your dreams. On December 1st, your fairy tale came to life.

Normally, the average couple wants to have their wedding in the spring or summertime. Weather is less unpredictable, people are more able to RSVP, etc. You and Namjoon were not the average couple. Instead, you both opted for a winter wedding. The holiday season is both your favorite time of the year and being able to add your wedding anniversary into the mix? Neither of you had to really think on that one too much.

The wedding was one for the books as fluffy white snowflakes danced down to the ground, Namjoon’s rosey dimpled cheeks smiling at you as you walked down the aisle. Everyone around you blurred. He was the only thing you could see clearly.

Now fast forward a couple more weeks and it's Christmas Eve. The day you look forward to every year. The day before Christmas.

The tacky Christmas cards were sent last week, all the shopping has been done. It's time to get cozy with your husband.

A lot of magic gets put into the weeks, days, and even hours before Christmas Eve. Decorating almost becomes a part time job for you. Everything needs to be perfect.

Namjoon woke you up early to help him prep the Christmas Eve dinner which included turkey, mashed potatoes, homemade cornbread, and enough green beans to feed a village. You let Namjoon lead and became his assistant; grabbing all the utensils he needed to get that turkey perfectly prepped.

When the turkey is in the oven, there's still no time to rest. You sneak off into the spare bedroom to gather up Namjoon's presents. Pride swells deep in your stomach as you look at the collection of assorted gifts and trinkets wrapped to perfection in an array of holiday wrapping paper. This year was the year you tried extra hard to not give him any presents early or accidentally hint at what you've gotten him. Just one more night...you can last for one more night. You put them back in their hiding place, denying every cell in your body that’s telling you that one gift won’t hurt!

Maintaining your self control, you walk out of the room and rejoin your husband.

The day passes by all too quickly. Before you know it, you're bringing your empty plate to the sink, wobbling as you acclimate to your now bloated belly.

"You've outdone yourself this year, Joon," you sigh with content as you sink into the couch cushions. "I don't think I'll be able to fit into my work pants on Monday."

Namjoon chuckles from the kitchen as he rinses the plates, drying his hands with a small towel as he emerges into the living room and joins you on the couch.

"The chef enjoys your compliments." He tosses the towel towards the hallway where he will absolutely forget it's existence and slip on it later tonight. It's happened more than once now.

"The chef," you cheekily lean in closer to him, smiling wide and bright before you kiss the base of his neck, "is too good to his customer." You kiss his neck again and he sighs, pulling you closer to his body.

The sun starts to go down and the air grows crisper, pinks and oranges cascade into the living room and mingle with the abundance of Christmas lights you have hanging around the room and the tree. You bounce around with excitement as it comes time to give your husband his stocking. Per tradition, of course.

"Sit down by the fire!" You giggle, squealing away as you run into the spare bedroom to your secret stashing place, pulling out the forest green stocking you've stuffed to the brim with things for Namjoon. For a moment, you contemplate getting out the rest of his presents. Both of you decided many years ago to not pre put Christmas presents under the tree because 1. you're a terrible secret keeper and 2. you're terrible at waiting and 3. last year you got way too drunk and accidently stepped on one of the gifts you were going to give to Namjoon. Deeming you both a clumsy mess, Namjoon presented the idea of putting presents under the tree the morning of Christmas. That way you could still get your cute photos and open presents only minutes later.

You hold Namjoon's stocking behind your back, careful to not let anything slip out from the top, and sit in front of Namjoon. The fire warms your back, instantly heating up your flannel pajamas, as your knees touch Namjoon's. A sly grin is painted on his face as he too holds his arms behind his back.

"Ready?" You're practically springing up and down with excitement.

"Go!" Namjoon laughs as he pulls out what he's been hiding and you do the same. You both quickly pass each other the stockings you've made.

"Oh my god, Namjoon there's like thirty bags of Swedish Fish in here!" You hunch over as you laugh, pulling out bag after bag and pile them into your lap.

"Those better last you all week! I don't want another 'Joonie'," he clasps his hands together and widens his eyes comically, pouting his lips and raising the pitch of his voice higher, "'on your way home from woorrrkkk can you stop and get me my fishies?'"

You smack him playfully on the thigh, the sound echoing in the living room. "I don't sound like that!" You laugh along with him, but already your mouth is drooling, the sweet-savory taste of Swedish Fish already dancing on your tongue.

"Oh, cool!" Namjoon pulls something out of his stocking and holds it closer to his eyes. "I've been wanting to see this movie! Thanks, babe!"

You smile as he continues to dig through his stocking. Stockings are a very traditional part of Christmas, but you wanted to go the extra step. Not only did you hand pick the fabric of the stocking, but you also sewed it together. Deep, soft green flannel accessorized with a plush, fuzzy grey trim really didn't take that long to put together. Overall, the best part was getting that sparkly silver glitter glue and putting that big 'N' on the front. It turned out just how you wanted it, and watching Namjoon hold it delicately in his hands gives you a sense of accomplishment.

He definitely tried with your stocking, that's for sure. Namjoon also sewed together his own fabrics, which actually surprises you because, let's be real, most guys would just go out and buy a premade stocking and stick your name on the front and call it good. But Namjoon isn't most guys and he proves that to you as much as he can. Although slightly wonky, you can tell he took his time and put forth his best effort with this gift. The stitches are definitely not going the same way, but they're consistent.

Going the complete opposite of Christmas themed, Namjoon opted for a bright neon orange fabric that kinda hurts your eyes if you stare at it too long. Bright pink and yellow pom poms are scattered all around the fabric and you're lowkey afraid your husband murdered a clown to make you this.

"It's a sunset."

You look up to see Namjoon smiling at you proudly, the stocking you made him hugged loosely to his chest. His dimples are deeply set as the tips of his cheeks redden.

You stare at the stocking with a new sort of fondness and it's hard to fight the brimming tears quickly forming.

"It's beautiful, Joon. I love it." Carefully setting it aside, you lean forward and pucker your lips. Namjoon meets you halfway and you resist the urge to sigh as his lips meet yours. All too soon, he pulls away.

The next couple minutes go by leisurely as you both continue to dig up the little treasures hidden in the stockings and once you're done, Namjoon starts to fidget.

"Excited?" You tease, already surrounded by Swedish Fish candy wrappers.

Namjoon looks back and winks at you playfully. "Very."

Laughing, you wait as he pulls out his next gift. Namjoon's tradition idea to make personalized ornaments is one you can't believe you haven't thought of sooner. He reaches far back behind the Christmas tree, a few pine needles escaping their branches and planting themselves into Namjoon's pajamas.

He shakes his head, sprinkling pine needles onto the hardwood floor as he holds a loosely wrapped gift.

"Before I give you this, I want you to show me yours first."

Puzzled, you reach under the couch and fish out your own gift. "I thought the idea was whoever came up with the idea presents first?"

"Yes. But this time is different." There's something coy to the way he's talking, like he's trying to mask a smile, but his cheeks are still tinged red. He's got something more up his sleeve than just a unique Christmas ornament, that's for sure.

Tingling with curiosity, you push it aside as you hand your gift over to Namjoon. Opting for a small bag instead of wrapping paper, Namjoon flips the bag upside down and catches the ornament in his hand.

Smiling, he looks closer at it to see you've filled it with a shit ton (and you’re not exaggerating) of sparkly blue glitter. There's a tiny cutout picture of Namjoon from your vacation to the beach last year inside and his facial expression is definitely not one you can look at while keeping a straight face.

Present Namjoon bursts out laughing, nearly dropping the gift.

"Is this-? Did you-?" He can barely talk in-between aggressive ‘ha ha's’, his free hand covering up his mouth as he does so. Namjoon's deep brown eyes sparkle as he recalls the memory of how he tripped and fell into the ocean. Not from a pier or anything, no. The two of you were walking hand in hand along the beach when Namjoon tripped sideways and went shoulder first into the shallow shores, nearly taking you down with him.

At first you were concerned, but then you saw as Namjoon continued to flip backwards, going further and further out into the water. Then fear overcame you. You rushed in after him, fully prepared to save the nearly drowning fiancée of yours.

After a lifeguard and several kind pedestrians determined Namjoon was more than okay, you couldn't hold back the laughter bubbling quickly from your chest. From the ground, Namjoon laughed with you, claiming he couldn’t even walk right anymore.

Although scary in the moment, it's a memory the both of you love to laugh about.

Namjoon wipes a finger under his eyes as his laughter diminishes, sitting up to place the ornament in the center of the tree on full display for everyone to see.

"That was amazing, babe. Thank you." He sits back down and picks up what has to be your ornament resting by his knee. You can only imagine what he could have possibly placed in there. There's so many inside jokes between you two that you're having a hard time thinking of a specific one. Namjoon can be brutal when it comes to inside jokes. But he can also be really sweet...and seeing as it's your first Christmas together as a married couple, there's definitely a chance that he's put in something romantic.

As you unwrap your gift, you almost drop it as you gasp. Namjoon looks at you with a smug expression on his face and something hidden behind those deep brown eyes of his.

In your palms you hold what appears to be a handmade ornament. It's clear with black and grey glitter poured into it. And sitting on top is a picture.

But it's no ordinary picture.

You try to swallow but your throat feels alarmingly dry.

"Namjoon..." your tongue tastes funny as you say his name slowly, almost like old water that’s been sitting out in the living room for a couple of days.

He raises his eyebrows suggestively, resting his arm on his knee as he tries to appear nonchalant. "You said you wanted us to create our own traditions. Something unique to the both of us. What's more unique and special than this?"

The ornament feels hot in your hand and it's frustratingly hard to make yourself not look at it. Heat continues to flicker from your palms and grows through your arms and swallows itself down into your stomach. But it doesn't stop there. Oh no. You feel this heat down in-

"So, how is this a tradition? Are we going to be making sex ornaments every Christmas?" It's not so easy to keep your tone nice and steady. You don't know if you should laugh, be turned on, angry- oh who are you kidding? You're definitely turned on. The photo in the ornament is one worthy enough for the tumblr porn page aesthetics. In the photo it's you on your knees with Namjoon's cock halfway down your throat. Mascara tears dribble down your cheeks as they hallowed around his member.

"The tradition," Namjoon's voice is silkier than silk itself and the low grumble in his throat is enough to shoot an intense wave of arousal throughout your body, "is that we fuck and take a polaroid, and put the polaroid into a clear see through ornament to commemorate the experience."

You've gotta admit, this is sexy as fuck.

Namjoon licks his bottom lip as he tries to read your body language. He's looking sexier than ever in his bright red Christmas pajamas that you both picked out last month. Matching pajamas, another Christmas tradition you've both adopted.

Speaking of pajamas, you don't want to have yours on any longer, no matter how cute and comfortable they are.

Leaning forward slightly, you grip the base of your shirt and slowly start to pull it over your head. You hear Namjoon's breath hitch in his throat as your shirt rises over your chest, exposing your unsupported breasts to him.

Once the shirt is fully over your head, you toss it at the side wall, giving Namjoon a wink as you do so.

"For a little while, I wasn't sure how you would take this whole explicit ornament idea, but holy fuck am I glad I decided to go with it." Namjoon seems stuck in place, completely in awe as his eyes roam over your half naked body.

"Oh!" You start, scaring Namjoon slightly. "It's so cold!" You look at your husband innocently as you take one of your fingers and start rubbing your left nipple. "Look how hard my nipples are." You pretend to pout, loving how wide Namjoon's eyes are as he continues to watch you play with yourself. He looks like a man who's just won the lottery and you wouldn't be surprised if he started jumping up and down for joy.

"I think I'm gonna go back to the bedroom." You stand up and look over your shoulder, winking at him once more as you slyly shimmy your pants off, bending all the way over to free the garment off your ankles.

With an open mouth and wide eyes, Namjoon slowly lifts up the polaroid camera and snaps a picture, eyes unwavering from where he was looking.

Sauntering down the hallway, you pause to see if Namjoon is following you, but he remains frozen in place.

"Pity," you sigh, "I was hoping you would come keep me warm."

Confused, Namjoon's eyebrow raises as his eyes finally meet yours. "You really wanna snuggle? Now?"

Annoyed, you drop the act and turn towards your dumbass husband. "Namjoon, you just showed me a sexy polaroid and I just stripped in front of you. Get your ass in that bedroom and come fuck me like the beast you are."

He didn't need to be told that twice.

You squeal as he quickly stands up. His shirt and pajama pants are discarded in record speed as he runs after you. Catching up to you easily, Namjoon tackles you onto the bed, pinning his legs on either side of your hips.

And there it is, in all its glory: Namjoon's hardened cock staring you right in the eyes, hidden by the thin lining of his boxers. Despite the obvious piece of male anatomy blocking your vision, you find yourself looking up into Namjoon's eyes, your mind slipping away from the present moment. It's one of those surreal moments that only happens in the movies and you never would have imagined it could happen to you. Just a few weeks ago, you were walking down the aisle, eyes searching for that comfort in Namjoon's. Smiling goes a lot further to Namjoon than just using your mouth. When he smiles, his whole face lights up. From the lines by his eyes to the way his nose scrunches, Namjoon smiles with everything he has. It's one of those smiles that makes you want to run into his arms, bury your face in his chest, and just relax, let go of every stress and worry you've had built up.

"Hey. Where you at?" Namjoon chuckles above you.

Grinning softly, you shake your head from side to side. "Sorry. I'm here."

You look up at him and there's a moment of softness at the edges of his eyes. And then they wander down, his gaze caressing your body and that softness turns into dilated pupils, a deep, pain invoking hunger settles in. You're more than ready for him to just eat you up.

Namjoon licks his lips tauntingly before diving in towards your own lips. And like a fish taking the bait, you’re hooked. He tastes like gingerbread cookies and peppermint; a mixture you didn’t realize could be so addictive until this moment. Your tongues roll together as you move your heads from side to side, tasting each other, neither particularly fighting for dominance.

Like water, you both flow together as Namjoon guides you on top of him. Demanding to be acknowledged, Namjoon’s cock twitches angrily against your thigh, and like any sane person would do (or insane, let’s be real), you swivel your hips and grind against his growing, hardening length. Wincing beneath you, Namjoon’s face starts to redden. From the stuffiness of the room or from trenchant nature of your movements, you’re not sure.

You slow down your movements and pin Namjoon’s arms at his sides, not allowing him to touch your body at all.

“Y/n,” he warns, the veins in his forearms beginning to thicken.

Ignoring him, you continue to grind on him with stripper level intensity. It has always been a personal goal to make your husband come in his pants. Something about getting him off without even physically removing his cock from his underwear is oh so motivating.

Namjoon, on the other hand, thinks differently.

Lowly growling, he uses the strength from his thigh muscles to trap you in place, winking at you before he flips you on your side, and ultimately gaining the upper hand. Now it’s him who’s pinning your wrists on either side of your face. Holding his gaze, you try to appear unfazed by his graceful assertion of dominance, so it’s all the more frustrating that he chooses to not only disconnect your glares, but to proceed to fist his cock sloppily, hardening himself even more: he clearly does not see you as a dominant competitor today.

When Namjoon is feeling particularly more feral than normal, he runs the bedroom like a potentate; what he says goes, and you better obey quickly unless you want to be punished. Mercilessly. On some occasions, you're the good girl who listens well and obeys commands perfectly. On other days (most days), you love poking the bear just to see how far his punishments will really go.

Today is definitely one of those days.

Namjoon releases your wrist, leaning back on his knees as he wordlessly motions for you to flip over. He gets off the bed, one hand still gripping his cock tightly, as he goes to where he put the polaroid down. Now, on your hands and knees, you move your hips from side to side, slowly wiggling your ass tauntingly in front of him as he attempts to put more film into the polaroid camera. "Namjoooooon," you pout, lips pursed as you whine to your husband. "Don't you want to spank me? Put your big, strong hands all over my body. I think I need to be reminded about who I belong to." Unable to contain your pout, you smirk as Namjoon narrows his eyes. You know exactly what he's contemplating: should he reward you or punish you for your explicit neediness.

Suddenly, your head is forced up until you're looking at the ceiling and your stomach tumbles with joy.

Punishment it is.

Namjoon releases your ponytail, your head collapsing back between your arms that are still holding up your body. Your heart races as you try to catch your breath, eagerly anticipating Namjoon's next move.

The bed creaks as Namjoon goes and opens the closet door. Sneaking a peek over your shoulder, you see him opening up his sock drawer. Momentarily confused, it all makes sense when he pulls out his black leather belt.

Instantly, chills shiver their way through your body. Yes, you wanted him to spank you. But you meant with his hands.

Namjoon holds the belt between both hands as he turns back to you, snapping the leather against itself as he tests the product before then slapping it across his own palm. A sinister smile paints that gorgeous face of his and you've never been happier to be in love with an actual demon.

Clasping your hands together tightly, you brace for what's to come, knowing you're going to orgasm so hard later.

"Count," Namjoon commands and without a moment's hesitation, you hear the crack of the belt on your skin before you feel the stinging hot pain. Gasping loudly, all you can think about is how you can't wait to see the bruised redness on your ass afterwards. Something about having markings leftover from any sexcapade leaves you feeling accomplished and slightly dirty.

"I said count," he grits through his teeth, but he waits until he hears you to continue.

"One!" You squeeze your eyes tightly and wait for the second hit.

"Two!" You cry. Wetness oozes from between your legs and you're wondering how many Namjoon is going to administer. You just want his cock in you already. Almost like a stomach growling when delicious food is near, that's how you feel right now. But it isn't food that will satisfy this hunger.

Five more whips later and you start to shake at your elbows, grasping the sheets tightly between your fingers and biting down on the pillow in front of you. The sting on your ass feels so good and you're honestly surprised that last smack didn't send you straight into an orgasm. Namjoon knows his way around that belt, hitting each spot perfectly and with enough force where it doesn't necessarily hurt. It's all pleasure.

Namjoon discards the belt and takes hold of your ponytail, wrapping your hair around his knuckles before pulling. It's a little rougher than usual, tears brimming your eyes as you wince. To anyone else, they probably wouldn't have been able to handle the neck cramp, or the stinging on your scalp. But it only turns you on more. You bite your bottom lip as he gives your ponytail another yank, this time to the side so you're able to see him out of your peripheral. It's animalistic how he looks at you; a low growl festering deep within his throat, his mouth practically watering as he looks at you.

"So beautiful," he mutters as he hand grips your hair tighter. His other hand moves over the curvature of your ass, the lightness of his touch giving you goosebumps. Arousal is about to start dripping out of you any second. Namjoon knows how sensitive you are with your senses. He gives your ass a hard squeeze before resuming his light touches.

"Are you ready, baby?" he whispers fondly from behind you. His hand is hovering over your clit, you can sense it.

"Yes, sir."

With the sound of his respected name, Namjoon slaps your cunt harshly with approval, making you cry out in pain and surprise. Focusing all your energy on keeping yourself upright, you can’t help but tremble more as you grip the sheets tighter and tighter. You can feel his hand take away some of your slick as he pulls away from you. Hiding your face in the crook of your arm, you wait for your punishment for being too turned on so quickly.

You chance a look behind you, his grip on your hair loosening enough for it to tumble away from his fingers. He's staring at his other hand, your arousal glimmering in the faint room light, like small spider webs woven between his fingers. Namjoon's thick eyebrows furrow as he continues to contemplate the slickness on his hand. You swallow hard, afraid to speak up.

Wordlessly, Namjoon wipes the remanence of your juices onto his thighs, his jaw set tightly as his mouth forms a thin line.

“Sir?” You croak out, “What’s wrong?”

There’s a moments pause before he finally speaks.

“Only sluts get that wet that quickly.”

You turn back to face the headboard, hiding your gleeful smile as his authoritative tone vibrates throughout your body. It’s been a while since he’s called you a slut in the bedroom. In fact, if you recall correctly, the last time he called you a slut was after he took that polaroid of you a few months ago. The same polaroid that he put in his Christmas ornament.

Dripping more than a loose faucet, all you want is for him to plug you up, to fill you completely.

Which he easily complies to.

Tingling with anticipation, you let out a soft moan as you feel Namjoon slide the tip of his cock up and down your folds. You shiver as if there’s a slight chill in the room, but really, you feel burning hot.

"Are you a good girl? Hmm? A good little slut?" He asks from behind you, hips unmoving as he rests his member deep within your cunt.

"I'm a very good girl, sir."

You fight every urge, every nerve in your body that screams to move, to get some sort of friction going from your body to his. But, like you said, you're a good girl. So, you grip tightly to whatever self control you have left.

"But not a good slut?" He massages the mounds of your ass, delicately running his fingers across your skin. Goosebumps spread across your body from the sensational touch as he continues his motions almost thoughtlessly.

So he's playing a game, you decide. Always trying to exercise that brain of his no matter the setting, that's Namjoon for ya.

"Oh, I'm the worst slut, sir," you play along, "I feel so bad for you, stuck with a broken play thing like me." You jut out your bottom lip to help enunciate the deep pout you're going for.

Namjoon growls in response, hips twitching as he refrains from moving still.

"What's wrong?" You consciously clench around him. "Having a hard time...focusing?" You roll your hips backwards, milking out a delicious moan from your husband’s lips. His hands grip your ass so tight that you wince. But it's totally worth it.

"Only," he pants, "I can talk about you like that."

Grabbing the belt from the side of the bed, he quickly and flawlessly wraps the leather around your throat, just below your chin and above your windpipe. Namjoon pulls back, momentarily cutting off your airways. He loosens it after counting to ten, a rule you both placed years ago when it comes to rough choking like this. The restricted air leaves you feeling lightheaded in all the best ways. It's a form of high unexplainable and unattainable through any other forms. And right when Namjoon pulls himself out just to slam back inside of you, he pulls on the belt once again so that when his cock hits the back of your walls you're more than sky high.

Thrusting slow, Namjoon works up a steady momentum that includes restricting your breath every so often. In a way, it's almost like orgasm denial every time he loosens his grip and lets you breathe properly again.

"Now," Namjoon's breath is raggedy after continuing to maintain his flawless control over his urges to pound you through the mattress, "Are you a good slut or a bad slut?"

"I'm a good slut, sir!" Your voice is faint against the belt. Namjoon has loosened his hold on it so that you could speak without too much struggle. But he quickly tightens it again, your eyes rolling backwards as he hits your sensitive spot over and over again. Namjoon guides your head back until you feel his chest against your back. His breath his hot against your ear as he growls through gritted teeth, his thrusts becoming sloppy and inconsistent.

"You're mine."

Suddenly, the belt is tossed aside and Namjoon flips you onto your back. Air seems to be nowhere near your lungs as you gasp, your husband moving too quickly for your lightheaded brain to process.

He spreads your legs open, getting a clear look at your core. Cock twitching, Namjoon moans and fists himself as he stares at your naked body.

"It is so hard to keep my self control when you're around."

"I'm around all the time," you reply, watching him closely as he continues to attend to his weeping red member.

"That's the problem."

Nothing more needs to be said. He pounces like a predator on its prey. His hands grip your shoulders, using them as leverage as he buries his cock between your legs. It happens so fast you barely have time to appreciate the feeling of his head pushing past your walls, stretching you so perfectly it leaves you breathless.

Namjoon grips your thighs tightly as he thrusts deeper and deeper into you. Nails raking against your skin leaves hot burning lines that make you gasp and moan. Whenever he shifts his weight on your thighs, it’s like a direct tingling line of sensation that shoots right to your core.

Namjoon’s bangs stick to his forehead with sweat, little dewdrops threatening to fall over your chest as he continues to thrust in and out of you. The rawness of his cock against you is gone, you’re so wet that he easily slides in and out of you. When you get this wet, as in...wetter than a fucking ocean, Namjoon likes to play a little game. He’ll slow down his thrusts, agonizingly inching his cock out of your hole and waits a few moments before pushing himself back in, bottoming out and slowly pressing against your sweet spots. Part of you thinks he does it to control the intensity of your flow, but the other part of you is nearly certain that he does it because he’s actually Satan himself and gets off on torturing you to no end.

And that's exactly what he starts to do.

Protesting will get you nowhere, you've learned that over the years of being with him sexually. Namjoon's self control is out of this world, even when he has his moments of weakness. You swear that man could go months without an orgasm if it meant teasing you into insanity.

"No!" It doesn't hurt to try to protest every now and then does it? "Namjoon please. No teasing. Fuck me like you mean it!"

Wordlessly, Namjoon picks up the polaroid camera from the side of the bed, his cock still buried deep inside you. "Let's make some magic, baby."

Pulling out of you slightly, Namjoon brings the camera to one of his eyes, squeezing the other eye tightly shut as he focuses the camera down at your private areas. Bright light flashes in the dimly lit room without warning, dazing you as you hear the whir of the camera spitting out the image it just captured. Dark colors litter your vision every time you blink, your eyes not adjusting as quickly as you would hope.

Carelessly, Namjoon tosses the polaroid to the left of the bed and removes his cock completely from your aching pussy.

"Turn around," he commands. "No, not like that." He groans as you position yourself on your hands and knees. You turn to look at him and ask what he means, but his large hand pushes the back of your head down until your cheek is squished against a pillow. Namjoon grabs your hips roughly, adjusting them back until your ass is as high up in the air as possible.

"Perfect," he mumbles. The tip of his cock greets your folds once again. They remain teasingly on your lips. Light flashes again followed by the loud whir. "Your ass looks amazing in this."

"You can't even see the photo yet." Grumbling against the pillow, you try to distract yourself from the ever growing ache within your cunt. This slow, unintentional teasing can only go on for so long.

"I know." You can hear the smile in his voice as he lovingly pets your right ass cheek. As you're about to reply, your walls are being stretched once again. Snarky reply forgotten, you moan out his name as he bottoms out inside you, not even wasting a moment before he pulls out and slams back inside.

Namjoon continues to snap his hips back and forth against you, the back of your thighs tingling with each thrust.

"Fuck!" he yells out, his pace quickening. "You feel so fucking good! I should have gotten a picture with that belt around your throat!"

You whimper your response, enjoying his cock too much to even form words.

"You're right," Namjoon's smirk is visible even in the dimly lit light. "We'll just have to do it next time."

The polaroid light flashes right as your orgasm takes over your body. Eyes rolled back, mouth wide open, it's a photo worthy enough to be the star on the Christmas tree. There might even be a hint of drool on your chin.

Before thoughts can even begin to form in your head, Namjoon's hands are on your waist once again, flipping you onto your back. The camera is in one hand as he aggressively pleasures himself to completion. White hot come paints your skin from the divots of your collar bone all the way down to your hip bones.

Panting loudly, Namjoon steadies himself as he stands over you, shaking hands raise up the camera, pointing directly at your cum covered self.

"Beautiful." Breathlessly, the picture is taken and your husband lays down besides you.

"I love our little sexmas tree." You smile brightly as you lean into Namjoon's arms as you both gaze at your now very not-safe-for-work Christmas tree, decorated entirely with the new polaroid photos you took less than an hour ago.

"Me too." He squeezes you tightly before freezing up. "We should probably take them down before you're parents come over tomorrow."

Clinging to Namjoon as you laugh, for a moment it feels like time slows. Your laugh sounds far away and you feel your body move as if it were underwater. It isn't a scary or unsettling feeling, no. In this moment you feel on top of the world. No one can knock you down.

All too quickly, things go back to normal.

"God, I would hate to see that reaction. But for now, let's leave them up."

Namjoon leans down and kisses you lightly on your left temple, guiding you back to the bedroom to get some well earned sleep.

𝓂𝒶𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉

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