I Would Love To Live In This Fantasy Forever! This Is The Namjoon I Have In My Head!

I would love to live in this fantasy forever! This is the Namjoon I have in my head!

Perfect plan -2-

Perfect Plan -2-

Pairing: Namjoon x f.reader Genre: friends to lovers, friends with benefits? (But the benefit is a baby); crack, a smidge of angst, smut, fluff, happy ending. Rating: explicit. Minors do not interact. Warnings:  mentions of cheating and ‘being the other woman’ (past relationship), reader works at a hospital, Namjoon is just an absolute sweetheart in this, cursing, multiple sex scenes, dirty talking, oral sex (f. receiving), fingering, just a smidge of size kink, unprotected sex, creampie, intensive orgasms, Namjoon tells you to “Relax, woman” before eating you out, lovemaking, and a quick scene of pregananat sex. Word count: somewhere around 16k. Author's note: Here we gooo, part 2 and the finale. Hope you enjoy.✨✨ and if you do, do not hesitate to comment (let's be friends). Tell me what you liked, what you didn't. I'm writing again after a really long time and could use some feedback. (and friends lol) I stole the name Cosmo from “Castle”- (an oldish detective/crime serries I used to love, and I always found it so funny naming a kid Cosmo that I just couldn’t help myself.) Thank you @callmenoona25 for being my trusted beta reader. You’re the best! ✨ part 1: here

Normally, you weren’t one to brag. However, when it came to your packing techniques, no one could compete. You prided yourself on your ability to fit everything you needed into a single suitcase, neatly organized and perfectly folded. Never went over the set limit, even by a gram. You even made sure to leave room for any souvenirs you might pick up along the way, maximizing both space and efficiency.

As you laid out your essentials, you felt a sense of satisfaction. Each outfit was carefully chosen for its versatility, from causal daytime to polished evening. The thrill of the trip only adding to your excitement as you zipped up your suitcase, ready for whatever awaited you in Singapore.

You met Namjoon at the airport, his big bright smile making your heart race when he collected your hand in his, leading you across the airport with familiarity.

The flight was smooth, filled with laughter and light conversation, and before you knew it, you were landing in Changi airport.

The vibrant city welcomed you with its dazzling skyline and warm, humid air. You could hardly contain your excitement as you stepped off the plane and into the bustling airport. Namjoon glanced at you; his eyes sparkling.

As you made your way to baggage claim, a sleek black SUV waited for you outside. The driver greeted you both with a warm smile and opened the door, and you slid into the plush back seat. Namjoon settled beside you, glancing out the window as the city zipped by.

“Look at all the lights! It’s beautiful,” he said, pointing out the iconic sights.

You nodded, mesmerized by the blend of modern architecture and lush greenery. The drive to your hotel felt like a preview of all the excitement that awaited you.

 Once you arrived at the hotel, the luxurious lobby took your breath away, with its stunning decor and welcoming atmosphere.

Your room just as elegant, featuring floor-to-ceiling windows that offered a breathtaking view of the city skyline. The soft lighting and plush furniture created a cosy yet sophisticated atmosphere. You couldn’t help but smile as you set your bags down.

“Wow! This is incredible” you exclaimed, fully enchanted by the room.

There was a little loune area to your right, complete with mini bar and plush seating that invited relaxation. A small coffee table was set perfectly in the centre, and the soft glow of the lamps added to the cozy ambiance.

The open kitchen was opposite to the lounging area, sleek and modern, with gleaming countertops and high-end appliances.

“This place is amazing.” You beam “I didn’t expect it to be this nice.”

Namjoon chuckles, clearly pleased. “Yeah, one of the job perks.”

You moved to the kitchen, admiring the little details- the stylish bar stools, the complementary snacks neatly arranged on the counters. “This feels like a dream,” you murmured, almost in disbelief as you run your fingers down the counter.

“Just wait until you see the view from the balcony,” Namjoon said, walking over to the sliding door. He opened it, and a warm breeze flowed in, carrying the sounds of the vibrant city below.

You stepped outside, and your breath caught in your throat as you took in the stunning panorama. The skyline shimmered against the dusk sky, a blend of colours painting the horizon. “This is breathtaking!” you exclaimed, stepping closer to the railing. The warm breeze gently collecting your hair from over your shoulder.

Namjoon watches you, undeniable admiration written across his face. He opens his mouth to speak, but his phone beeps, cutting him off.

“Ah. I need to get ready. I have a meeting in half an hour.” He said, glancing down at the screen.

You turned back at him, a little pout on your lips, “Right, of course.”

He sighs, giving you an apologetic smile. “I’ll wrap it up as quickly as I can, then we can maybe go enjoy the city a bit.”

You nodded, but gave his arm a reassuring squeeze. “Don’t worry love. I need to check in with the Dean of medicine either way. So, I’ll be stuck in a zoom meeting for the next few hours too.” You check your watch “And then the conference starts, and I want to make sure I snatch a goodie bag” you grin up at him, making him chuckle as he picks out his clothes from his suitcase.

“My little busy bee,” he winks your way before walking to the bathroom.

You smile at the affectionate nickname, feeling a warm flutter in your chest. As he closed the door, you took a moment to gather your thoughts, preparing for your own meetings. You settled at the small desk in the room, pulling out your laptop and opening all the necessary documents, ready to dive into work.

Namjoon walks out a few minutes later, wearing a tailored suit that made him look like he stepped right out of a billboard. The sharp lines accentuated his frame, and the soft fabric seemed to highlight the subtle tan he was sporting, giving him a warm, inviting glow.

“Oh wow,” you say, momentarily speechless as you took him in, “You look incredible.”

He grinned, a hint of shyness creeping into his demeanour. “Thanks! Just wanted to make a good impression.”

“You definitely will,” you completely forgot about your work, staring at him unabashed. He adjusted his collar, and you noticed the way he carried himself with confidence, ready to take on the day.  “Make sure no one falls in love with you.”

He laughs, a light blush creeping across his cheeks. “I can’t make any promises. But I’ll make sure to mention that I’m reserved.”

“Good!” you said, feeling a playful spark in the air. “You’d better.”

“Okay, I’ll be out for a while. Text me if you need anything.” he said, moving toward the door.

“Good luck with your meeting!” you called after him, watching as he stepped out, the door closing softly behind him

You took a deep breath, letting the moment linger, before forcing yourself to dive back into your task. You made sure to schedule and plan everything in advance so you could take this time off. You checked and double checked every detail, ensuring there were no loose ends.

You went through your notes, confirming appointments and reviewing the materials.

Yet, when the Dean logged on, everything seemed to fall apart. “I’m sorry, but there’s been a logistics misunderstanding.” He said, his voice tinged with frustration. “The materials you sent over didn’t reach the hospital committee in time, and now we’re facing delays for the budgeting conference too.”

Your heart sank as you listened, a wave of anxiety washing over you. “What does that mean for my presentation?” you ask, trying to keep your voice steady.

“The committee is postponing the schedule. And now we’ll have to resubmit everything. Your slot might be pushed back or even cancelled.” He explained, shaking his head as if he couldn’t believe the situation either. “That means that the budget meeting also gets postponed, and you know just how these jackals like to cut the budget when we delay by even a day.”

You felt your stomach drop. All the careful planning and scheduling, and now the opportunity was slipping through your fingers. “But I’ve prepared so much for this,” you protest your voice cracking softly.

“I understand.” He replied, his tone monotone. “We’ll do our best to rectify this. But it may take some time. I’ll keep you updated.” The dean rubbed his temples, clearly irritated.

As the meeting wrapped up, you closed your laptop with a heavy heart. You lean back in your chair, frustration boiling beneath the surface. But you pushed on, reminding yourself that you were in Singapore, and there were still opportunities ahead.

Future-you will simply have to pick up the pace when you return to the office.

When you glance at the clock again, panic sets in- you were running late for the conference. There wasn’t time to change into your planned outfit, so you quickly refreshed yourself, tossing your hair up in a ponytail and opting for a comfortable yet presentable look. You grabbed your bag and dashed out the door, determined not to let anything else derail your plans.

As you hurried down the stairs, the bustling streets greeted you with their vibrant energy. You hailed a taxi, but of course, the traffic seemed to intensify just when you were in a rush. Cars barely crawled along, and your heart raced as you checked the time repeatedly, feeling the minutes slip away.

“Come on,” you muttered to yourself, willing the driver to find an alternative route. The sight of the city blurred past you, but your focus remained fixed on the conference.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, you arrived at the conference venue. You paid the driver and hurried out, taking a deep breath to steady your nerves. The grand entrance loomed before you, and as you stepped inside, the bustling atmosphere enveloped you.

You could see attendees mingling.  Doctors, residents and nurses walking around, exchanging ideas and business cards, and you felt a surge of determination. You might have faced a few setbacks, but you were here now, and you intended on making the most of it.

But when you arrived at your scheduled room, your heart sank. The meeting was more than halfway done, and the remainder of the presentation making very little sense to you, seeing as you completely missed the beginning. You tried to catch snippets of information, but it all felt disjointed, and the speakers were already moving on to complex concepts you struggled to grasp.

Frustration bubbled up again as you glanced around the room, hoping to find a familiar face or at least some insight into what you had missed.

Then you remembered the goodie bags you had heard about—swag filled with useful materials and promotional items. You felt a twinge of disappointment as you approached the table at the back, only to find it empty.

“Sorry, we ran out,” the staff member said apologetically.

Great. Just great.

You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to focus on the remaining presentations, even if they felt like a blur. You tried to jot down key points, hoping to salvage something useful from the experience.  But then you saw him walk on stage.

“Hello everybody, I am Doctor Seong-Min and I’m here today to talk to you about-”

But nothing registers. The sight of your ex triggers a wave of emotions you thought you buried long ago. The memory of the betrayal and heartbreak flood back, eclipsing everything else around you.

You struggled to concentrate as he spoke, his voice smooth and confident, like always, captivating the audience. But all you could think about was the bitterness you felt when you found out about his wife, the lies he told, and the way he casually moved on with his life while you were left picking up the pieces.

Frustration bubbled up inside you, mingling with the hurt that never fully faded. You worked so hard to move on. To establish yourself in your career, only to find yourself face-to-face with the man who caused you so much pain.

And then you caught sight of her- the beautiful trophy wife, her belly big and round as she looked up at her husband with uttermost admiration. The image twisted like a knife in your gut, and you felt like you might puke right there.

You glanced around the room, searching for a distraction, but nothing could pull your focus from the scene unfolding in front of you. You could hear Doctor Seong-Min speaking about his research, but the words felt distant, muffled by the pounding in your chest.

The applause that followed his presentation felt like a weight pressing down on you, suffocating and heavy. You fought to keep your composure, knowing you had to push through this moment. You wouldn’t let him have that power over you anymore.

But then the dick has the audacity to walk over to you, disgusting smirk on his lips as he approached with his wife.

“Fancy seeing you here,” he said, feigning surprise. The arrogance in his voice made your skin crawl. His wife stood beside him, radiant and blissfully unaware of the storm brewing in the air. You felt your stomach flip as they neared.

“Hello,” you managed, forcing a smile that felt like it might crack your face.

Seong-Min leaned in slightly, the confidence radiating off him. “Enjoying the conference? We’ve been hard at work on this project,” he said, gesturing vaguely to the crowd.

You glanced at his wife, who was looking up at him with adoration, completely oblivious to the tension. “I’m sure it’s great,” you replied coolly, your heart racing.

“Still in the medical field, I see?” he asked, a condescending edge to his voice.

You could feel your frustration boiling beneath the surface, old wounds reopening. “Yes, and making strides.” you said, your tone sharper than intended.

His wife shifted slightly, glancing between you and her husband, confusion written on her face as she gently stroked her bump. “It’s nice to meet you,” she said, extending a hand. You shook it, forcing politeness.

“Likewise.” you managed, though the word tasted bitter on your tongue.

Seong-Min flashed that infuriating smirk again. “We should catch up sometimes.” he said, as if you shared some fond memories rather than a history of betrayal. Like the poor woman he cheated on wasn’t standing right there.

“Not interested.” you replied, a bit too quickly.

“Well, enjoy the rest of the conference.” he said, his tone dismissive as he turned away with his wife, who seemed oblivious to the tension.

You felt like the last of your resolve melted away.

 It wasn’t fair.

Why does he get to have what you want? Why does he get to enjoy a loving relationship and a baby while you struggle with heartbreak and disappointment? The unfairness stung like a sharp wound, twisting in your chest.

You watched them walk away, his arm wrapped around her waist, the image of happiness that felt like a cruel joke. It brought back memories of the plans that you once had, the dreams you built, all shattered when you found that wedding band hidden in his desk.

You clenched your fists, grounding yourself in the present. This wasn’t who you were anymore; you moved on.

Or, at least, you thought you had.

Nothing from the conference sticks to you afterwards. A big dark cloud overshadowing the rest of the day, until you reach the hotel room.

You weren’t one to give into your emotions, but now, you needed something, anything to distract you from the building rage and emotion that stirred in your chest. You grabbed one of the bottles of Hennessy from the bar and poured yourself a generous glass. The rich amber liquid shimmering in the light, and you hoped it would help dull the ache in your chest. You took a sip, the warmth spreading through you, and you leaned against the cool counter.

As you stood there, you couldn’t shake the frustration that lived beneath the surface of your composed image. You hated feeling like this- caught between anger and sadness. You took another sip, letting the burn wash away any remnants of your earlier encounter.

Slowly, you let yourself slide to the floor, the tears you fought against all day finally breaking free, cascading down your cheeks in hot, unrestrained waves. You felt like a child again, overwhelmed by emotions that were too big to contain. The frustration, the hurt, the unfairness, the longing, all spilled out in chocked sobs.

Each little cry pulled at the heaviness that settled over your chest. You wrapped your arms around your knees, finding solace in the smallness of your position, trying to make sense of everything that unfolded these past few weeks.

Just then, you heard Namjoon’s footsteps approaching. His concern was palpable as he knelt beside you, his presence grounding as he pulled you in his arms. “Hey, hey,” he said softly, his voice laced with warmth that made it harder to hold back your tears.

You turned your gaze away, the world around you blurring through your tears. He didn’t push you to explain, he simply sat there with you, offering you the safe space you needed to be vulnerable.

Slowly, the intensity if your emotions began to ease. You leaned your head against his shoulder, grateful and a bit frustrated that he was there. Grateful for his unwavering presence, frustrated with yourself for letting your feelings spill over.

“I didn’t want you to see me like this,” you admitted quietly.

Namjoon wrapped his arm around you, pulling you closer, “You don’t have to be strong all the time. It’s okay to feel what you’re feeling,” he reassured, his voice steady and soothing.

“It’s not fair.” you said, the words spilling out before you could stop them. “Why does he get to have everything I wanted? It’s not fair.”

Namjoon quickly understood what you were talking about, tightening his grip around you. “I know it hurts. It’s fucked up to see someone who hurt you move on so easily while you’re left grappling with everything.”

“His wife is pregnant, Namjoon!” you start crying again, the weight of the reality crashing down on you. “It just feels like I’m stuck, and he’s living this perfect life.”

He tiled your chin gently, forcing you to meet his gaze. “You’re not stuck. You’re on your own path, and it’s okay to take the time you need to heal. You deserve happiness too.”

The sincerity in his eyes made your heart swell, your bottom lip quivering as your throat tightened once more. You wanted to believe him, but the twinge of comparison felt so heavy. “It just hurts so much. I thought I was over this”

Namjoon shook his head, brushing a stray tear with his thumb. “Healing isn’t linear. It’s okay to have a few setbacks. I’m right here for you.”  

The warmth of his presence began to ease the ache in your chest. You took a deep breath, grounding yourself in the moment. “Thank you,” you whispered, the sincerity of your gratitude palpable.

“Always,” he replied softly, holding you tighter. “Now come on, let me take care of you tonight.”

You sniffle, whipping your nose with the back of your hand. “You don’t need to do that.”

“I know, but I want to. Just let me help,” he said, his tone firm yet gentle.

You hesitated, but the sincerity in his eyes made it hard to resist. “Okay.” you finally agreed, feeling relief and vulnerability wash over you.

“Good,” he smiled, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “Let’s order some food, and we can watch a movie, something to make you laugh while I draw you a bath.” He helps you up, a small smile managing to form on your lips when you let yourself lean into his warmth.

“Sounds perfect.”

As he set up the movie, you felt the burden on your shoulders start to lift. There was something comforting about seeing him move around the room with such confidence. He ordered room service, even adding a bottle of wine to the mix, which you gladly shared with him over dinner.

Once the bath was ready, he returned to you with a warm smile. “Everything’s ready.”

You look up at him, a tiny smile playing on your lips. “You really don’t have to do all this,” you said, but he just shrugged it off.

“Let me pamper you a little.”

With a laugh, you let him take your hand, “Alright. I accept.”

He lifted you effortlessly into his arms, and you give a small gasp of surprise. “What are you doing?” you giggle, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Carrying you to the bath. It’s part of the pampering,” he said, his tone playful.

You couldn’t help but laugh, feeling both giddy and relaxed as he walked you to the bathroom. The soft glow of candles flickered around the tub, the warm water inviting you in.

“Okay, okay, you can put me down now.” you said, and he gently lowered you to your feet, his hands lingering on your waist for a moment longer.

He stepped back, watching you with a soft smile as you took in the scene. “Enjoy, and I’ll be right here.” he promised, before stepping out to give you some privacy.

As you sank into the warm water, the soothing heat enveloped you, dissolving any lingering stress from earlier. You closed your eyes, letting the warmth seep into your muscles, feeling the tightness begin to fade. After a while, you hear the door open.

“Can I come in?”

You chuckle at the absurdity of his question, “Yes,” you smile when you see him peeking his head around the door.

“How’s the bath?” he asked, his voice light and teasing.

“Perfect,” you smile at him “You should join me.”

Namjoon raises an eyebrow, clearly amused by the suggestion. “Tempting, but I think I’ll stick to being your attendant for now.”

You laugh, splashing a little water in his direction. “You’re missing out.”

“I’m sure I’ll survive.” he said, leaning against the doorframe. “But I did bring you your wine glass. I figured you might want something to enjoy while you soak.” He said, setting it down on the edge of the tub.

“That’s perfect, thank you!” You reach for the glass, taking a long sip, savouring the flavours as they wash over your tongue.

Namjoon sat on the edge of the tub, his expression turning earnest “You know, I’m really glad we’re here together,” he said, watching you. “You deserve this time to unwind.”

You meet his gaze, feeling a warmth spread in your chest, “I didn’t think I needed it until today.” You admitted. “But this is really nice. Thank you.”

“I’m just glad I could be here for you. You’ve been carrying so much,” his look is so soft as he watches you “It’s okay to take a break.”

You took another sip of wine, letting the warmth of his words settle in your belly.

“Thank you, and I’m sorry we couldn’t go out.” You place your hand on his thigh, apologizing as you look up to meet his eyes.

“It’s really no problem.” He leans closer, his voice lowering “Just let me know if you need anything else.”

With a smile, you take another sip of your glass, feeing a sense of comfort envelop you, “For now, this is perfect. Just being here with you.”

You both settled into a comfortable silence, the warm water wrapping around you and melting away the tension in your muscles. However, after some time, the water began to cool. You took one last sip of your wine, savouring it, before setting the glass down on the edge of the tub.

“Joon,” you said, glancing over at him, “I think I’m ready to get out now.”

“Need help?” he asked, his tone shifting to one of concern.

You laugh softly, shaking your head. “I think I can manage, but could you hand me a towel?”

“Sure thing.” He stood up, grabbing a fluffy towel from the rack and handing it to you. “Here you go.”

You took the towel, feeling its softness against your skin. As you carefully stood up, the cool air brushed over you, sending a little shiver down your spine. You wrapped the towel around yourself, feeling a mix of warmth and comfort.

“Thanks, love.” You said, stepping out of the tub and onto the plush rug.

He watched you with a soft smile, “Any time, baby.” He carefully reaches out for you, pulling you into his arms, and you melt into him, the warmth of his embrace wrapping around you like a blanket.

You move your hands down his back, pulling back to meet his gaze, a smile creeping on your face. “I really appreciate it.”

“Of course,” he said, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “Now, let’s make the rest of the evening just as cozy.”

Before you could ask what he meant, he easily scooped you up, and carried you to the bed with effortless grace. You laughed in surprise, wrapping your arms around his neck as he settles you down on the pillows.

“See? Cozy already.” He said, a teasing lilt in his voice.

You giggle, pulling him closer until your lips slot together, his tongue quickly working your mouth open, tasting the lingering sweetness from the wine on your lips.

The soft glow of the bedside lamp cast a warm light over your skin as you tangle your fingers through his hair, pulling him closer to you.

You could feel the heat radiating from his body, and as you wrapped your legs around him, you sensed his heart racing in perfect harmony with yours. He trailed kisses down your neck, leaving a trail of warmth in his wake, his hands exploring your body with gentle reverence.

With each touch, every lingering kiss against your skin, you feel yourself growing more aroused, your breath hitching in your throat as the heat between you quickly intensified.

You tugged at his shirt, fumbling to unbutton it, but Namjoon stopped you, instead gathering your hands in his and pinning them above your head.

“Take it easy,” He whispered against your jaw, kissing it softly, “We have all the time in the world.” His lips met yours again, and you could feel his harness press against you, as if testing you. You arched your back, pressing your body closer to his but he held you pinned to the bed until you huffed and gave up, pleading him with your eyes.

“Keep your hands there for me.”

Only when he saw you obey did Namjoon’s hands begin to roam your body again, pulling away your towel and throwing it somewhere over his shoulder. He traced the curve of your waist, the dip of your hips and the swell of your breasts. His fingers dancing along your skin, leaving trails of fire in their wake and eliciting soft gasps from your lips.

You moaned when he took a nipple in his mouth, swirling his tongue around it before giving it a gentle bite, while squeezing your other breast with his hand, your peaked nipple hard against his palm. The sensation made you jolt, and you heard him chuckle against your skin, urging you to push further into his touch.

As his mouth worshipped your breasts, his hand slid between your legs, fingers finding you slick with desire. Instinctively, your hips bucked against his hand, a rush of need flooding your senses as he explored your wetness slowly.

“That’s my good girl.” He murmured, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips as he trailed a finger along your folds. You shivered at the sensation, gasping as he flicked your clit.

“Namjoon…”

Without warning, he slipped a finger inside, then another, curling them in a way that made your stomach flutter with delight. He applied just the right amount of pressure, his fingers pumping in and out of you in a maddening rhythm that had you squirming with pleasure.

Once again, his is mouth found your nipple, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin as his tongue swirled around the hard peak. You moan, your fingers clenching the sheets as he continued to explore your body with languid ease.

Suddenly, he struck that sweet spot that made your toes curl and your back arch off the bed. A long, drawn-out moan escaped your lips, a clear sign that he had found the place that sends waves of ecstasy coursing through you.

“Ah, there it is,” Namjoon said with a satisfied smirk, his gaze fixed on you as you writhe beneath him, breaths coming in short, desperate gasps. His fingers hit that spot again, each stroke sending waves of pleasure rippling through you, building you higher and higher until you feel like you're teetering on the edge.

Your release hovers just out of reach, intensifying with every pulse of his hand, each scissor of his fingers within you. He maintains a steady rhythm, each move precise, the slick sound mingling with your soft, breathless pleas.

When his thumb circles your clit, the final surge tips you over the edge. Your body arches, surrendering fully as ecstasy crashes over you in waves, leaving you weak and trembling.

Namjoon holds you close as he moves up, pressing a soft kiss against your temple. “That’s it baby, cum on my fingers.” His hand slows, coaxing every last tremor from you until, with a soft gasp, you weakly push him away, spent and breathless in his embrace.  

A soft moan leaves your lips, eyes fluttering shut as you watch him draw his fingers from you and bring them to his mouth. His gaze holds yours, intense and unwavering as he slips his fingers past his lips, his tongue cleaning them completely, savouring the taste of you with a hum of satisfaction. The sight alone sends a fresh shiver down your spine, every nerve still tingling.

He was still fully dressed, looking so fucking handsome in his suit sans the overcoat. And there you were, flushed, completely bare and fucked out just from his fingers.

But then he leans in, capturing your lips in a soft, tender kiss, his mouth then trailing down your neck and collarbones, leaving a new path of warmth across your skin. He moves lower, pressing kisses along your chest until he settles on his knees besides the bed, looking up at you with an intensity that steals your breath away.

That image of him, gaze smouldering and devoted, is one that will haunt you for the rest of your life.

 With a gentle pull, he drags you closer to the edge of the bed, your core exposed to him. His hands glide up your legs, spreading them further apart as he goes, his eyes locked on yours as he leans forward, his beath hot against your skin.

You quickly sit up on your elbows, a hand reaching out as you speak, “You don’t have to.”

“Will you just relax woman?” Namjoon chuckles, gently pressing down on your belly in order to make you lie back down. “I want to.”

Before you could respond, he leans in, nipping at your thigh with a mischievous grin, then quickly soothes the bite with a warm flick of his tongue. The mix of pleasure and unexpected sweetness has you melting back into the mattress.

“You just enjoy.” he murmured, his fingers gently parting you folds “And let me take care of you.”

He looks up at you one more time, his eyes dark with desire and need. Slowly, he lowers his mouth to your clit, his lips soft and warm as they press against your sensitive skin. You let out a loud moan, feeling the pleasure shoot straight to your core, amplifying the lingering shockwave of your last climax, making every touch feel unbearably intense. His lips and tongue dance against your folds, gently parting you with his fingers as he drags a slow, thick line from your entrance to your clit.

“Namjoon, please.” You cry, your voice breathless, not even sure what you’re asking for. But he knows exactly what you need.

He responds with a gentle, rhythmic suction, mixed with teasing nips that made you gasp, his tongue darting in and out of your folds, exploring until you’re dizzy with pleasure. You can feel your body tensing up again, and when you make a move to close your legs, his arms hook around your thighs, keeping you spread and vulnerable, completely at his mercy.

Namjoon plunges his tongue deep inside you, his lips sealing around your entrance as he drinks you in, savouring every drop. He laps at your wetness, drawing you into further his mouth, his movements slow and indulgent, as through he wants to taste every single part of you.

The pleasure is too intense, it’s overwhelming, leaving you helpless as you mewl, thrash around and buck against his mouth. Your orgasm building deep within. But he doesn’t let up; if anything, his efforts double, his mouth and tongue moving with relentless intent, devouring you completely. Your hands tangle in his hair, your earlier protests forgotten as you lose yourself in the sensations he’s pulling from you.

“God, Namjoon, baby, you feel so good,” you breathe, your mind barely processing the confessions that tumble from your lips. “God, your mouth is divine, baby.”

Finally, you can’t take it anymore. You feel him moan and groan against your core and your orgasm crashes through you. You cry out his name, feeling every single nerve in your body ignite in surges of bliss. His arms stay wrapped firmly around you, holding you steady as he shows no signs of stopping his abuse of your poor sensitive clit, drinking your release, drawing out every last tremor as you tremble, weak and utterly spent in his arms.

When he finally pulls away, his eyes are glazed over with pleasure, his chin glistening with the evidence of your climax. You bite back a moan as he runs his tongue over his lips, savouring every last drop.

“You’re like heaven baby,” he murmured, leaning down to capture your lips in a deep, consuming kiss. You can taste yourself on his lips, the blend of sensation only heightening your arousal further as his tongue moves against yours.

“Joonie, just fuck me.” You mumble in between kisses, your voice edged with desperation, aching for him to fill you up and ease the ache that he had been building inside of you. But he remains maddeningly patient, his hands moving casually over your skin, teasing and touching every inch of skin as though committing each detail to memory.

After what felt like an eternity, he finally breaks away and stands, leaving you longing for his warmth. His eyes never leave yours as he starts to undress, each movement slow and deliberate, drawing out the anticipation. His fingers work through each button of his shirt with practiced ease, revealing his skin inch by inch, his expression heavy with intent. When his shirt slides off, your eyes trace over the lean muscles of his chest and the sculpted lines of his torso, drinking in the sight of him.

You urgently motion for him to continue, but he only smirks, clearly savouring your impatience. You huff in frustration and sink back onto the mattress. Despite the growing ache within you, you’re utterly mesmerized by the way he moves, completely caught up in every motion as he lets your anticipation build with each lingering moment, before he finally reaches for his belt.

With a quiet clink, he unfastens it, his eyes watching your reaction as he lets it slide free with maddening slowness. Your breath catches, heart pounding as he unzips his pants, pushing them down just enough to reveal the hard lines of his hips. He steps out of his clothing, completely bare now, standing before you with an air of confident vulnerability that leaves you spellbound.

For a moment, he pauses, letting you drink in every detail —the muscles of his chest, the strength in his frame, his ridable thighs and his hard cock pressed against his stomach, the tip glistening with precum.

“Do you like what you see?” he asks, his voice low and teasing, a playful smirk dancing on his lips. The challenge in his tone ignites a thrill within you, and you nod, your mouth suddenly dry with desire.

Slowly, he steps closer, his eyes never leaving yours and he climbs on top of you, his body warm and solid as he positions himself between your legs.

“I can be on top.” You declare, suddenly finding your voice, grabbing his shoulders and trying to pull him down. But once again, Namjoon stops you.

“I’ve got this, you relax.” He murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your lips as he eases you from your tensed position, allowing him to mould you as he pleases. His hands find your ass, squeezing it tightly as he positions you exactly how he wants.

A broken moan escapes your lips as he presses his erection against your aching pussy, the head of his cock catching against your clit, collecting your wetness. Instinctively, you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer still, craving the connection between you.

Slowly, he enters you, filling you up in a way that takes your breath away. “Ah baby, so tight for me.” He moans against your neck, his voice thick with desire as he stretches you, despite all the foreplay. Namjoon pauses once he’s fully inside, relishing in the sensation until you begin to claw at his skin, urging him to move.

“God Namjoon, please, move. Please.” You beg, desperation flooding your voice and easing any shame you might have ever felt when it came to begging a man in bed. Yet here you were, the need in your tone was unmistakable, breaking you softly as you urged him to take action. “Please, my love.”

And obediently, Namjoon begins to move, pulling out and thrusting back into you with a steady rhythm. But with each movement, you can sense a subtle adjustment in his hips, as if he's searching for something deeper. You give him a confused look, ready to beg again, when suddenly he hits your g-spot, making you scream in pleasure.

“There we go,” he looks so proud of himself as he locks in, his hips thrusting against yours with expert precision now, in a rhythm that has you spiralling into ecstasy.

Yet, something feels different — like there’s something more here than just another steamy ‘baby-making’ session.

There is no urgency in his movements, no hurried pace. This feels more like lovemaking, like a slow and sensual dance that allows him to explore every inch of you as you surrender yourself completely to him. His lips and hands tease you constantly, leaving trails of electricity pulsing through your body as his hips maintain a steady rhythm. You run your fingers through his hair, pulling him closer as he worships you, revelling in the pleasure he gives you with each stroke of his cock.

As the tension builds within you, your breath hitches, and you feel yourself getting closer, his moans against your skin igniting the fire that threatens to consume you whole.

“Namjoon, I’m close.” You barely manage to get the words out, your voice trembling, as tears prick at the corners of your eyes, overwhelmed by the intensity building within.

“Come for me, babygirl. Let go,” He whisperers in your ear, “I’ve got you.” And you cry out, grabbing onto his shoulders tightly, your nails dragging down his back as you urge him on.

In response, he thrusts harder, faster, driving you to the brink of pleasure until, with a final push, he sends you over the edge. You scream out as your orgasm washes over you, your body shaking with the force of your release. Namjoon follows soon after, his body tensing, then shuddering as he empties himself inside of you, filling you to the brim. He gives a few final, slow trusts, the wet, slick sounds echoing softly around you.

He collapses on top of you, skin warm and damp, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps. You wrap your arms around him, holding him close as you both savour the lingering warmth of your lovemaking, riding the waves of pleasure as you come down from the high together.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“What the fuck are you reading?” Yoongi’s eyes are wide with shock as he looks over at Namjoon, who is sitting across from him at the conference table.

“Uhm-” Namjoon glances at the cover of the book, quickly realizing his mistake “What to expect when you’re expecting” he mumbles, his face turning a deep shade of red.

“Should I even ask?”

“It would be easier for the both of us if you don’t.” Namjoon replies, avoiding eye contact, his embarrassment palpable.  

Yoongi smirks, leaning back in his chair. “Now I’m definitely curious. Are congratulations in order?”

Namjoon lets out a groan, rubbing the back of his neck “It’s not what you think.”

Yoongi chuckles, clearly enjoying Namjoon’s discomfort. “Oh really? So, you’re just doing some light reading on pregnancy for fun?”

“More like… research,” Namjoon stammers, his cheeks still flushed. “For a friend. Just a friend.”

“Right,” Yoongi replies, leaning in with a teasing glint in his eye. “So, I get it that this weird plan of yours worked?”

“She’s not expecting yet,” Namjoon insists, a bit too defensively, before confusion strikes him. “At least, I think. I tend to get lost when it comes to the logistics.”

Yoongi raises an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. He lets the silence stretch, watching as Namjoon grows increasingly uncomfortable. Despite knowing he should stop talking, there’s something about Yoongi’s gaze that makes him continue.

“It’s complicated, okay? She has everything figured out, and I thought I should probably read up on it instead of sounding completely clueless.”

“Sounds like you’re in deeper than you think.” Yoongi laughs, his smirk widening. “Next thing you know, you’ll be attending prenatal classes with her.”

“Not a chance!” Namjoon shoots back, his tone half-serious and half-joking. “I just wanted to be a good friend. I didn’t sign up for this!”

Yoongi leans back, arms crossed, clearly enjoying the banter. “Come on, admit it. You’re secretly excited about it.”

“Maybe I am!” Namjoon bursts out, then quickly lowers his voice, glancing around the conference room as if expecting someone to overhear. “But it’s not about me. It’s about her.”

“Didn’t she say she wants to be a single parent?” Yoongi asks, raising an eyebrow.

Namjoon nods, his expression turning serious for a moment.

“I’m not going to interfere.” Namjoon says, shoving the book at the bottom of his backpack. “I just want to help.”

“You really like ‘helping’ her.” The teasing edge in Yoongi’s voice makes it clear this won’t end well for Namjoon, yet he can’t seem to keep his mouth shut.

“Don’t phrase it like that.” Namjoon’s face turns an even deeper shade of red.

Yoongi chuckles, clearly enjoying the moment “Come on, it’s just us here. You can admit it. You’re totally invested.”

Namjoon shakes his head, trying to maintain some semblance of dignity. “I’m just trying to be supportive, okay? She’s going through a lot, and I need to be there for her.”

“Supportive or not, sounds like there are more emotions involved than the ‘plan’ initially asked for.”

Namjoon groans, burying his face in his hands. “Can we please drop this?”

“Relax, your secret’s safe with me.” Yoongi says, finally easing up a bit. “But you owe me a favour for this.”

“What kind of favour?”

“Just remember who kept your secret, and maybe take me to lunch next week?”

Namjoon shakes his head, chuckling. “Fine, you’ve got yourself a deal. But no more pregnancy talks.”

“Deal.” Yoongi nods, still grinning. “But maybe don’t bring any more of those books to work. It’s not a good look.”

“Good idea.” Namjoon says, leaning back in his chair as the meeting starts to take shape.

As the discussions unfold, Namjoon finds himself glancing at the clock, his mind wandering to thoughts of you and the city exploring he’s been dreaming about. The day drags on with endless presentations and updates, and he can’t shake the desire to escape the conference room.

Finally, as the last agenda item wraps up, he feels a wave of relief wash over him, the long day is finally over. He stands up, stretching his arms above his head and quickly shoots you a text message.

Joonie 🎍🫀: Hey love. I’m done for the day. How about we grab dinner and check out the Gardens by the Bay? We can catch the skyline at night too! Baby-momma 💕:  Sounds wonderful! Can’t wait to see the skyline!

Namjoon smiles at your reply, feeling a rush of excitement.

Joonie 🎍🫀: Great. I’ll meet you at the hotel in 20. Wear something red for me 😏 Baby-momma 💕:  See you then! 🥰

He quickly gathers his things and heads out, a bounce in his step as he thinks about the evening ahead. The drive is quiet, but his mind races with possibilities. When he arrives at the hotel, he spots you waiting for him by the entrance, looking absolutely radiant in a black dress that perfectly accentuates your waist. The square neckline draws his gaze to the little mark he left just above your chest, making him smile wider.

“Hey there,” he says, a smile breaking across his face as he approaches, “You look amazing, even if it’s not red.”

You twirl playfully, your dress flowing around you. “I hope this is good enough.” you beam, your smile quickly turning into a teasing one as you take his hand and guide it to the strap of your dress. You lift it just enough to reveal a glimpse of red lace underneath. “The red is for later.”

Namjoon’s breath catches, his eyes widening with surprise and delight. “Well, now I’m even more excited for tonight.” he replies, eyes still glued to your chest.

You pull him closer, the energy between you sparking with anticipation. “Lead the way, baby.” you say, your voice playful and oh-so inviting.

He chuckles, feeling a rush of confidence as he guides you towards the exit. “I hope you’re ready for an adventure.” He teases, glancing down at your hand still intertwined with his.

The evening air is warm as you step outside, the city lights beginning to flickering to life around you.

You stop for dinner at the most charming little noodle shop, a hidden gem that Namjoon found online. And just like the reviews promised, the food was incredible.

After dinner, you head to the Gardens by the Bay, where the towering structures are beautifully illuminated against the night sky. As you stroll through the gardens, the sweet scent of flowers fills the air, and the sounds of the city fade away, leaving just the two of you in your own little world.

Namjoon leads you to a quiet spot overlooking the skyline. The city sprawls out before you, all the light shimmering like stars in the night sky.

“Wow.” you whisper, taking in the breathtaking view.

Namjoon leans closer, resting his chin on your shoulder. “It’s like a painting, isn’t it?” his arms wrap protectively around your waist, holding you close to his chest.

You nod, leaning into him, feeling safe and content as you stand together, soaking in the beauty of the moment. The skyline reflects in your eyes, but it’s the way he holds you close that makes everything feel so much more vibrant.

After a while, you feel his lips brush against your neck, softly kissing his way up to your ear. “Want to head back? I think I could use dessert after this.” He murmurs.

You giggle, nodding slowly and leaning into his touch. “Sounds good. I saw this little pastry shop near the hotel.”

“Not quite what I was suggesting.” he smirks against your skin and you feel a flush rising in your cheeks.

“Oh…” you reply, biting your lip to stifle a grin. “What did you have in mind?”

“Didn’t I tell you? You taste like heaven.”

Your heart races at his words, and you can’t help but smile back at him. “That sounds tempting.”

“Good.” He kisses your neck once more, taking your hand and giving it a gentle squeeze as you begin to walk back towards the hotel.

As you stroll, the city lights twinkle above, creating a magical backdrop. The conversation flows effortlessly, laughter punctuating your words. Every shared glance feels charged with anticipation, heightening your senses and making the moment feel even more special.

When you finally reach the hotel, Namjoon keeps his word. Fucking you good and hard into the mattress, over the couch and pressed up against the window, overlooking the city as you come completely undone around his cock.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Okay, since when does making a baby require you travel to Singapore?” Sumi looks at you, utterly bewildered.

The little coffee shop was cozy, its warm, pink ambiance wrapping around you like a comforting hug, chasing away the chill of a long workday. Aera suggested the place, and now, the three of you are huddled together at a small table, indulging in some much-needed girl talk.

You stare at the picturesque slice of sponge cake on your plate, next to the steaming cup of coffee you’ve been craving all day.  

“I was sad, and he just did a nice thing for me.” you mumble between spoonfuls of cake.

“Wow. When I’m sad Jungkook just tells me to cheer up!” Aera replies, her eyes wide with disbelief, mirroring Sumi’s expression.  

You chuckle a little, completely absorbed by the dessert.

“Seriously! How is that even fair?” Sumi adds, shaking her head. “You’ve got yourself a good one over there.”

You chuckle, feeling a mix of embarrassment and warmth at their reactions. “It wasn’t like that. We just had a moment, you know?”

“Sure, a moment that requires international travel?” Aera teases, nudging you playfully.

You roll your eyes but can’t help smiling “It’s not like that! He just helped me unwind.”

Sumi laughs, shaking her head. “This is a whole different kind of ‘helping’ you’ve got going on.”

You take a sip from your coffee, feeling flustered under their relentless stares. “Can we just enjoy our cakes without analyzing my life choices?”

“Never! This is so much better than cake!” Aera declares dramatically, making you all laugh. “Spill the tea, babe.”

“I would, but there’s no tea to spill.”

“You’re a lying liar.” Sumi smirks, “I think I speak for everyone at the table when I say, Namjoon was basically undressing you with his eyes the last time we were at Seokjin’s.”

You feel your cheeks heat up remembering that night- how intense his gaze felt, the way he pulled you into the spare bedroom and kissed you until you were breathless, leaving you both flustered and frustrated.

 “What? No! He wasn’t.” you protest, though your voice lacks any conviction.

Aera leans in, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “Oh, come on! You can’t tell me you didn’t feel that chemistry!”

You did feel it- The same way you felt him all the way back to your apartment.

You let out a nervous laugh, trying to deflect, “He was just being friendly!”

“Friendly? Please!” Sumi rolls her eyes. “He’s totally smitten.”

“I really don’t see it.” You confess, taking a cautious sip of your coffee to buy some time.

Aera raises an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced, “Really? You think he spends that much time with you just because he’s being nice?”

“Yeah. I mean, we’ve always been close.” you reply, trying to sound more convincing that you feel. “It’s not like he’s making any moves.”

“My dude! You’ve been sleeping together for what? Three months? How is that not a move?” Sumi argues, quickly realizing her slip up.

“You’ve been what?!” Aera’s eyes blow wide, her mouth dropping open in shock.

Your face burns as you scramble for words. “Wait, wait, wait! It’s not like that!” you stammer, panic rising in your chest. “We’re not— I mean, we are. But it’s complicated!”

Sumi smirks, clearly enjoying your flustered state.

“Oh, it sounds pretty straightforward to me! You’ve been sharing a bed for months and you didn’t think to tell me?” Aera’s expression shifts through a whirlwind of emotions.

“It’s not something I just bring up!” you protest, trying to collect your thoughts. “He’s just helping me get pregnant. We’ve been navigating this… situation, and it just didn’t feel right to tell anyone.”

“I know because I came up with the idea!” Sumi beams, overly proud of herself.

Aera leans in closer, her curiosity piqued. “So, you really are sleeping with him? Like, romantically?”

“Only recently!” you admit, your heart racing. “And it’s still really new and confusing.”

“Confusing or not, this sounds like a plot twist waiting to happen.” Sumi laughs, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

Aera’s eyes widen even further, and Sumi bursts into laughter. “Girl, you’re in deeper than you realize!”

“Can you keep your voice down?” you say, glancing around the cozy shop to make sure no one’s listening. “It’s not that simple!”

“But it sounds like it is!” Aera is shocked, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “So, what’s it like? I mean, are you two a thing now?”

You fidget with your cup. “No. Nothing like that. He’s just helping me get pregnant.”

Sumi raises an eyebrow, smirking. “Really? You think he’d go to all this trouble if he didn’t have feelings for you?”

You shake your head, trying to push the thought away. “I mean, he’s just being nice. He wants to help me, that’s all.”

Aera leans in closer, her curiosity growing. “But you like him, right? I mean, there has to be something more than just… helping.”

You feel your cheeks warm. “Of course I like him! But that doesn’t mean he feels the same way.”

“You need to tell him!” Aera urges, her excitement bubbling over. “You can’t just keep pretending it’s all casual.”

At that, you feel the bubble burst and reality crashes in. The consequences of your actions suddenly feel all too real.

How could you even bring it up with him?

Relationships always have a way of complicating things. Even if by some miracle, you two become a couple, it could easily spiral out of control. The thought of him potentially leaving your life is a risk you can’t bear. 

After all, if this is a number’s game, 50% of marriages end in divorce. And the odds are far worse for dating. 

“No. I’m fine as is.” you glance down at your coffee, stirring it absentmindedly. “This is just about the baby and nothing more.”

Sumi furrows her brow, unconvinced. “But what if it’s more for him? You could miss out on something special.”

“It’s safer this way.” You insist, though doubt creeps in your voice “I don’t want to complicate things.”

“Complications are already there.” Aera points out gently, “You’re both invested. Ignoring it won’t make it go away.”

You take a deep breath, the weight of their words settling heavily on your chest. “I want the baby. That’s my only focus right now.”

Sumi’s expression softens. “But what if you could have both? A baby and a relationship? Isn’t that worth exploring?”

The idea lingers, tempting yet terrifying. You want to believe that could happen, but the fear of risking everything holds you back. “I don’t want to lose what we have.”

Sumi leans in, her voice gentle but firm. “But what if there’s more to gain than just what you might lose? You both care about each other—why not see where that can take you?”

You chew your lip, caught between the fear of the unknown and the hope for something deeper. “I don’t want to push him away. If I tell him how I really feel, what if he doesn’t feel the same? It could ruin everything.”

Aera nods, understanding but not letting you off the hook. “But keeping it bottled up could ruin things too. You’re both navigating this together, right? Just talk to him.”

“Yeah, but it’s not like I planned any of this!” you sigh, frustration creeping in. “I just wanted a baby. This was supposed to be a straightforward arrangement!”

“And sometimes the best things come from the unexpected,” Sumi counters, using her favourite line. “Look at how much you’ve already shared. Maybe it’s time to be honest about your feelings?”

You sit back in your chair, the weight of their words sinking in. What if this really could be something more? But then the fear rushes back in—what if it all falls apart?

“No. We have this arrangement, and it works.” You state firmly. “That’s where this conversation ends.”

Aera opens her mouth to respond, but Sumi places a calming hand on her arm. “Okay, we’ll drop it. We just want what’s best for you.” she says gently, her eyes still filled with concern.

“Yeah, I get it.” you reply, appreciating their support even as you feel the tension in the air. “I really do. But right now, I need to focus on the baby and what that means for me.”

Aera leans back, her expression softening. “Just promise us you’ll think about it. You deserve to be happy too, you know.”

“The plan makes me happy. Namjoon just isn’t part of it.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The two lines stare innocently at you. The test waits patiently for you on your desk, and each time you walk by a new flutter of emotions washes over you.

You were pregnant. You had to be- You took five tests. They all came back positive.

You blink again at the small plastic device, feeling the reality of the situation settle in. Five tests, all confirming what you’ve been hoping and working for.

What now?

Sumi 🏥: Welcome to club knocked-up.

The phone buzzes, the message arriving alongside your blood work results. A smile tugs at the corners of your mouth as you read Sumi’s message. Her humour cuts through the tension, and for a moment, you feel like you could float. Club knocked-up. It feels surreal, like stepping into a world you’ve only heard about from others.

You typed back quickly, your fingers dancing over the screen.

Idiot 🌺💫: Thank you, Sumi! Can’t believe this is happening. 

The blood work is another confirmation. Your mind races with questions: What was the next step? How will you tell the others?

Sumi🏥: You’ve got this! We need to meet up and celebrate! Idiot 🌺💫: Yes! I’ll add it to my to-do list!! Sumi🏥: 🙄 🙄 🙄 Sumi🏥: I also pencilled in an appointment with Dr. Mi-Ja. Best Dr I know. (Even if she’s a stuck-up bitch at the watercooler). Idiot 🌺💫: Thank you. Love you 💕 Sumi🏥: Right. Sure. Just tell me if u want me to add Namjoon as a guest or nah. Idiot 🌺💫: Nah.

Three letters and a punctuation mark. That's all it took to tie up your resolve with a pretty bow of logic. He had done enough; you didn’t need to bring him into this any further. From now on, it would be just you.

The appointment comes as a welcomed relief. Dr. Mi-ja exuded kindness and experience, her calming presence putting you at ease. She laid out the next steps and the best options available, cementing that sense of control you’ve been longing for in this new chapter of your life.

The next few weeks rolled on by, the initial shock of the pregnancy transforming into an all-consuming obsession. Your agenda and calendar became constant companions, filled with notes and reminders. You dove headfirst into planning-diaper storage solutions, the perfect formula temperature, baby-proofing the rooms- each detail meticulously organized and perfectly planned. 

 But, as it turns out, you could factor in morning sickness as a part of the package, but you can’t really plan for it… some days you are perfectly fine, and others, you were completely sidelined, battling nausea while trying to tackle your growing to-do’s.

One minute you’re dreaming about baby names, and the next, you’re sprinting for the bathroom, feeling like your world is spinning.

Ginger tea and saltines became a new staple in your home. A makeshift remedy for the relentless waves of nausea. The mere scent of coffee knotted your stomach, an ironic twist for someone who once had more coffee than blood running through their veins.

But despite the discomfort, you kept life moving forward. Now more grateful than ever that you work in a hospital and have an arsenal of doctors on quick-dial for any inquiries you might meet along the way.

Still, Sumi was your constant support, always checking in and making sure you had everything you needed. Even when you insisted you were just fine, with your head in the toilet. “You can’t fool me.” she’d tease over the phone, her laughter lightening the mood just a smidge.

You only hope you manage to keep the contents of your stomach intact when Namjoon comes over with dinner. It was Sunday, and you hadn’t seen him since you got the results. The thought of facing him stirring a cocktail of nerves and excitement inside you. What would you say? What would he say?  Would it be awkward?

As you tidied up your space, the familiar sound of a mommy-to-be audiobook filled the background, almost pulling you out of your deep thoughts. You move on to set the table, choosing instead to focus on the details: napkins folded neatly, an empty vase in the middle-since the smell of flowers made you sick-, plates arranged just-so, and a cushy ambiance created by the setting sun peeking through the sheer curtains.

You didn’t plan the sun. But it added a beautiful touch to the atmosphere, casting a golden hue over everything.

The sound of the key in the lock sends your heart racing. You take a big breath, steeling yourself as Namjoon enters, a big smile on his face and a bag of take-out in his hands.

“Hey! I missed you!” he said, stepping inside and wrapping you in a tight embrace, his lips sweetly meeting yours for a quick kiss.

The warm scent of bulgogi drifted through the air, making your stomach rumble-despite your best efforts to quell the impending nausea.

“I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages,” he murmurs in your hair, making your stomach twist again, only this time with guilt. His warmth surrounds you, but the reality of your situation gnawed at the edges of your mind.

He doesn’t know, so he’s still acting like he has some kind responsibility towards you.

“Yeah, it’s been a while,” you reply, pulling back to look up at him. His smile is genuine, deepening the dimples on his cheeks, only stressing your fluttering nerves further and bringing a fresh wave of discomfort over you.

He holds up the take-out bag with a grin. “I brought Bulgogi and all the fixings. Figured we could have a little feast.”

“Great.” you said, trying to match his enthusiasm, but your voice falls flat.  Much like your actions, because you feel more like a robot as you lead him to the table, quickly taking a seat and pouring yourself a tall glass of water.

As Namjoon begins to unpack the food, the rich aroma wafted towards you, and before you could even react, a wave of nausea hits you. You jump up and dash to the bathroom, barely making it in time.

Once inside, you leaned over the toilet, feeling the contents of your stomach spill out. Each heave bringing a mix of frustration and embarrassment. You didn’t even notice the sound of the door creaking open, too caught up in your misery to register it.

“Oh shit,” Namjoon says softly, his voice filled with concern. You feel his hands collect your hair away from your face, gently rubbing your back.

You’re too embarrassed to look at him. But his presence brings you some semblance of comfort. He doesn’t say anything. Just stays there with you, holding your hair back and massaging your back until you’re done.

Once you feel comfortable standing up, he brings you a wet washcloth and a glass of water. You sit on the edge of the bathtub, grateful for the small gestures of care amidst the tension that hangs between you.

A heavy silence settles, broken only by the sound of running water from the sink. You know Namjoon isn't oblivious; he's pieced together the clues—the missed calls, the unread messages—and now the truth hangs in the air like an unspoken accusation.

He doesn’t rush to speak, instead, taking his time to look at you, weighing his next words carefully.

“Congratulations.”

You give a small nod, not quite feeling like celebrating right now.

“How long have you known?” His voice is raw with hurt as he breaks the silence, his eyes searching yours for answers.

You draw in a deep breath, meeting his gaze. “A few weeks now.”

He blinks, the realization settling in. “A few weeks?” His voice is a mix of disbelief and pain. “When did you plan on telling me?”

“I-I don’t know.”

The weight of those words hung thick between you, like a dense fog, blurring the outlines of what was sure to be a life-altering conversation. You could see the cogs turning in Namjoon’s mind, processing the truth that lay before him.

“You plan for everything-” There is a mix of emotions that crosses his face in that split second, somehow, heartache being the most evident of them all “Is this why you’ve been ignoring me?”

You look away, unable to hold his gaze any longer. The weight of your decision feels heavier than before, almost like it could crush your chest under the pressure.

“I didn’t know how to tell you,” You admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t want to involve you any more than necessary.”

Namjoon’s laugh is bitter, devoid of any humour, “Is that what you think I am? Just a means to an end? Someone to use and then discard when you no longer have need for me?”

You flinch at the accusation, the pain in his words cutting deeper than you could have ever imagined. “No, that’s not it at all!” You insist, reaching out to touch his arm, but he pulls away from your grasp.

“Then what is it?” He demands. “Because from where I’m standing it looks like you used me. You used my trust, my emotions, and then you tossed me aside like a piece of trash when you got what you wanted.”

You shake your head, tears filling your eyes “Namjoon, we had an agreement.”

“Yes. We also set up rules- rules, mind you- that we willingly broke with the first opportunity that showed up.”

The tension crackles in the air, and you feel your heart race as he takes a step back, putting distance between you. His words sting, but they cut close to the truth. You know he’s right; the lines blurred the moment you started sharing a bed.

You had anticipated every scenario, but this—seeing the hurt in Namjoon’s eyes, the disappointment etched across his face—was something you hadn’t prepared for

“Namjoon, please…” you plead, searching for the right words. “This wasn’t what I intended. I wanted a baby, yes, but I never meant for things to get complicated like this.”

He looks at you, his expression softening just a fraction, but the hurt is still there. You’ve never seen him like this- grasping at his emotions, struggling to keep them contained. He falls silent, looking away from you, and you sense the weight of his disappointment pressing down on you, stealing the breath from your lungs.

“You’re cruel,” he says your name, the pain evident in his voice, as if the word itself is a wound. The rawness of his voice stabs at your heart, each word a reminder of the walls you’ve singlehandedly build between you.

You look away, letting your tears spill, no words fit for the damages you’ve caused.

 “What about my feelings? My part in this? Did you ever stop to consider that maybe I’d want to be involved in this kid’s life too? In your life?” Namjoon continues, his voice slightly rising with a mix of frustration and pain. Each word causing you to sob further, and you can’t help but flinch at the reality of what you’ve done.

“I didn’t think-” you begin, but the words catch in your throat.

“Exactly! You don’t think,” he interrupts, his hands balling into fists by his side “You just plan.” He lets out a frustrated breath, “I actually thought you loved me back. God. I’m such an idiot.” He turns away, his back facing you, as if the distance between you somehow lessens the weight of the moment.

The silence stretches, heavy and unbearable, filled only by the sound of your ragged breathing.

“Namjoon, please,” you call out, your voice cracking. “Don’t go.”

He takes a slow, deliberate breath before responding, his voice low and strained. “What else can I do? You’ve already made your choice.”

Your heart aches at the hurt in his expression. “I was scared, Namjoon. Scared of how you’d react, scared of what this all meant.”

“Scared?” He scoffs, the bitterness returning to his voice. “Scared of what? Of being a family? Of letting me in?” He shakes his head, as if he can’t comprehend the distance you’ve created.

“Please,” you whisper, feeling the tears stream down your cheeks. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want it to get complicated like this. I wanted to share this with you, I really did.”

He takes a step back, the distance between you growing again. “You wanted a baby, not me,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “And that’s what hurts the most.”

“Namjoon…” you say, your voice breaking.

He turns away, facing the door, the weight of his decision clear in his posture. “I need to go,” he says, his voice heavy with finality.

“Don’t,” you urge, panic rising, “Please, just… let’s talk about this.”

“I can’t.” Namjoon replies, his voice strained. “I can’t do this right now.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You never liked waiting rooms.

There was something about the sterile white walls, the sickly-looking people, the occasional coughing and the wailing baby that made your stomach churn with anxiety.

Normally, you’d use your ‘connections’ to skip the line, asking your colleagues to check you out when they had a moment.  

But this time felt different. Surrounded by a sea of pregnant women, each one rounder and fuller than the next, guilt washed over you for even considering it.

So instead, you settled in next to a woman with a crying baby, constantly refreshing your messaging app, hoping Namjoon would respond to your messages.

You: First ultrasound appointment. I’d be glad if you can make it…

And you forwarded the message from the hospital with all the details about the appointment.

The message was flagged as read since you sent it, two weeks ago. But no response came.

The minutes stretched on, each second amplifying your unease. You glanced around the waiting room, feeling like an outsider among the expecting mothers. Their laughter and chatter felt detached from reality, and you couldn’t shake the knot of anxiety tightening in your stomach.

You opened the messaging app again, staring at Namjoon’s contact. Maybe if you focused hard enough, those three little typing dots would appear. A follow-up message might coax a reply, but a small voice warned you against it. You didn’t want to seem desperate, even though you felt that way deep down.

Taking a deep breath, you put your phone down and tried to centre yourself. You could hear the soft coos of the woman besides you as she rocked her baby, and you took a moment to admired her calming demeanour. It was such a stark contrast to your own swirling thoughts, that you found a bit of peace in her tranquillity.

 After a moment, the woman caught your eye. “Is this your first?”

You nodded, trying to muster a smile as you placed a hand over your still flat stomach “Yeah, I’m a nervous wreck.”  

You weren’t quite sure why you felt compelled to open up to this random lady, yet here you were, being more honest with a stranger than you had been with your partner.

She smiled back, her big eyes filled with warmth. “That’s normal. Just take it one step at a time. You’ll be just fine.”

You appreciated her kindness, but at that moment, it did little to ease any of the mounting worries you’ve been collecting since your last conversation with Namjoon. The pain in his eyes was still etched in your memory, surfacing at the most inopportune of times and reminding you of just how easily you could tangle up your own life.  Each thought felt like a thread unravelling, pulling you deeper into a sea of uncertainty- about your future, your relationship, your entire damned plan.

You checked the message again, hoping for something-anything- from Namjoon. Still, nothing changed.

Then, faster than you expected, a nurse called out your name. You barely fumbled to collect all your belongings before heading into her office, your heart feeling more like a speck of sand in your chest. Each of your steps felt heavy, a whirlwind of emotions swirling through you harder still.

Dr Mi-ja greeted you with the usual warmth and quickly launched into a series of tests and questions about your well-being— checking vitals, asking about symptoms, energy levels, nausea and anything else that seemed relevant.

“Have you had any cravings or aversions?” she inquired, glancing up from her clipboard.

“Just a strong aversion to hospital waiting rooms,” you joked, forcing a small strained laugh.

She chuckled, her head shaking lightly “That’s a common one. But overall, it seems like you’re doing well. Now, let’s move on to the ultrasound. That’s the exciting part!”

As you followed her to the ultrasound room, a mix of excitement and nervousness boils in you with every step down the hall. This was one of those moments you had dreamed about, meticulously planning every detail for-the outfit you’d wear, how you’d react, all the little other moments that filled your mind. 

Yet, as the moment draws near, a wave of sadness washed over you at the thought that Namjoon wasn’t by your side. Even if he hadn’t been part of the plan initially, you had hoped he would be here to share this significant milestone. His absence felt heavy, casting a bittersweet shadow over the excitement. You took a deep breath, trying to focus on the experience ahead, but the longing for his presence lingered in the back of your mind.  

“Is the father coming?” Dr Mi-ja asks, sparing a glance in your direction as you enter the ultrasound room. You paused, hesitant to speak the truth out loud.

“I don’t think he can make it,” you finally admit, the weight of your words hanging in the air.

Dr Mi-ja nodded, her expression understanding. “It’s okay if he can’t be here. What matters is that you’re here, and we’ll take very good care of you.”

You appreciated her kindness, but it did little to ease the pang of discouragement as you accepted this new reality.

As you settled on the examination table, Dr Mi-ja prepared the ultrasound machine. “I’m going to need you to unbutton your shirt.” She said gently. You nodded, taking a moment to gather your thoughts before following her instructions. Sitting at the edge of the table, you began unbuttoning your shirt, taking your time as you wrestled with the lingering sadness.

Just then, a loud bang echoed through the room, startling you. Sumi's voice carried through the door, her muffled voice scolding whoever slammed against the door, before the ID swipe beeped, signalling the door had unlocked. In walks a slightly pissed Sumi, closely followed by a very flustered Namjoon.

“Sorry we’re late! Someone wasn’t aware you had to fill out forms at the hospital,” She shot a glare at Namjoon, before addressing you, as if you had somehow contributed to that chaos.

“This is a private meeting.” Dr Mi-ja began, preparing to escort them out. But you stopped her.

“No. This is the father.” As you introduced Namjoon, a new wave of emotions crashes over you. But Namjoon stepped forward confidently, his eyes reflecting relief and apprehension.

“Sorry for the mix-up.” he said, glancing at Sumi, who looked taken aback but quickly masked her surprise with a supportive smile.

Dr Mi-ja softened her stance, clearly sensing the significance of the moment. “Alright then. Let’s proceed without further interruptions, preferably.” She shot a pointed look Sumi, but her demeanour shifted to one of professionalism as she gestured to the both of you to take a seat.

You caught Sumi roll her eyes, muttering a “Bitch” under her breath before she exited the room with a soft click of the door behind her. 

As you settle back onto the examination table, your gaze met Namjoon’s. There is no shock or hesitation in his eyes- just a steady presence that made you feel a little more grounded, even as the situation felt heavier with him there. He offered you a reassuring smile, and for the first time in weeks, the clouds that loomed in your brain began to shift, even if just slightly.

“Now, let’s see how your little one is doing,” Dr Mi-ja said, smiling at both of you.

Namjoon’s hand found yours as he leaned closer to the screen, his grip anchoring you before the anticipation and nerves got a chance to settle.

Dr Mi-ja applied the cool gel to your abdomen, the sensation catching you off guard. “Are you ready?” she asked, glancing at you with an encouraging smile.

You nod, your heart racing.

“Alright, let’s take a look,” she said, positioning the wand with careful precision.

As the screen flickered to life, your breath caught in your throat.

There it was—a tiny blob pulsing rhythmically, the heartbeat a steady echo that filled the room. It was surreal, overwhelming, and suddenly everything else outside this tiny moment faded away.

“There’s your baby,” Dr Mi-ja said, her voice warm with enthusiasm. “And that heartbeat is strong.”

You looked over at Namjoon, who was completely absorbed in the image on the screen, his eyes shimmering with wonder.

The doctor continued, tracing the contours of the tiny form. “Everything looks good so far. The heartbeat is strong, and the measurements are right on track. You’re about ten weeks along, correct?”

Your heart swelled with a mix of joy and relief. “Yes, that’s right.”

Namjoon’s fingers tightened around yours, a silent promise as he gazed at the screen, his expression softening even further.

“Everything looks normal,” Dr Mi-ja confirmed. “Your next appointment in a few weeks to monitor progress.”

A sense of reassurance washes over you. “Thank you,” you said, your voice steadying now, as you absorbed the information.

As the ultrasound session wrapped up, you couldn’t help but steal glances at Namjoon while Dr Mi-ja cleaned up and provided her parting advice- encouraging you to reach out with any concerns, telling you about the parenting classes- and the handover of a written confirmation for your next appointment.

You buttoned your shirt back up, catching Namjoon’s thoughtful gaze, his head bowed respectfully, offering you a semblance of privacy, despite having seen every inch of your skin already. In his presence, your heart ached anew.

It was always in these quiet moments that the weight of everything settled more clearly upon your shoulders—times when you couldn’t retreat into your agenda or your planner. In his presence, you were compelled to confront your emotions, even without a single word being exchanged between you.

As you stepped into the hospital parking lot, your uncertainty clung to you like a shadow, whispering doubts in your ear. You knew you needed to speak, to give a voice to the turmoil that twisted in your heart before he disappeared again. You needed to apologize, and even if he couldn’t find it in himself to forgive you, you longed for even a crumb of closure.

But just as you prepared to part ways, Namjoon glanced over at you; his eyes filled with a depth that kept you rooted in your place, making it even harder to find your voice.

“Let’s grab lunch and talk,” he suggested, his voice steady.

And you could only give a shy nod in response.

You never imagined the first meaningful conversation with Namjoon would take place at a sandwich shop near his apartment. The inviting little deli was filled with the delicious aroma of freshly baked bread and savoury fillings. As you settled at a corner table, the weight of the morning’s events unwrapped around you, mingling with the scent of sandwiches and freshly brewed coffee.

Namjoon ordered a turkey club while you opted for a BLT, and a long, uneasy silence settled between you. The hum of conversation around you felt distant, your mind still trying to conjure just what you were about to say to him.

“You look good,” he said, breaking the silence, his eyes warm and sincere as they met yours across the small table. A rush of warmth flooded through you at his compliment, a small comfort amidst the tension.

“Thanks,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper, as if you didn’t quite believe him despite the earnestness reflected in his gaze.

And the silence wrapped around you once more.

The sandwiches arrived, yet neither one of you made a move to eat, the plates sitting untouched between you, like a barrier that mirrored the distance you felt.

“I didn’t think you’d come today,” you ventured, daring to meet his gaze, memories of your last conversation flicking through your mind.

“I almost didn’t.” Namjoon admitted. “But I figured you might appreciate some support.” He offered a warm smile, adding “Not that you need it.”

His last comment drew an unsatisfied laugh from your lips, helping to ease some of the apprehension that had backed up inside you. “I need it more than you know.”

Namjoon leaned back, his expression contemplative. “Seeing the ultrasound… it’s a big deal,” he said gently, a seriousness in his tone that hinted at the weight of what had happened between you. “Thank you for inviting me.”

“You deserve to be here.” you admitted, “You’re a part of this as much as I am.”

Namjoon studied you quietly, the warmth in his gaze revealing a combination of gratitude and vulnerability “It means a lot to hear you say that.” He said, glancing around the shop before adding “I really want to be a part of this baby’s life. However we agree to do that.”

His words settle heavily between you, and you could sense the tension beneath the surface.

“I want that too,” you replied, your voice trembling as you fought to maintain steadiness. “I’m sorry I made everything so complicated.”

“It’s okay. I helped,” he said, a hint of self-awareness in his tone. “But the baby shouldn’t have to pay for our mistakes.”

You nodded, the gravity of his words wrapping around you like a shroud and you instinctively placed a protective hand over your belly.

“You’re right.”

Namjoon was careful choosing his next words, concern deeply etched on his face before he finally spoke. “But that might mean letting go of some of your control.”

His words struck you like ice, sending a chill down your spine and igniting a surge of defensiveness within you. You straightened, meeting his gaze with a mixture of disbelief and frustration. “Control?” You question, vexed. “I’m just trying to ensure everything goes perfectly! Isn’t that what you want? A stable life for our child?"

“I know,” Namjoon replied softly, holding your gaze. “But we both have to be on the same page. It can’t be just your decision alone.”

Tears started to sting your eyes, and you angrily blink them away, choosing instead to look out the window at the busy streets.

“All I’ve ever done has been for this baby. You know that.” You say, jaw set, despite the tears that threatened to spill.

Namjoon says your name softly, drawing your attention back to him “You plan every detail obsessively. It’s like you’re trying to control everything around you. You can’t even enjoy the moment because you’re too busy scheduling the next ten!"

"It’s better than living like you do!” you shot back, your anger bubbling to the surface. “Letting life tremble all over you only to look back and make sense of it! At least I’m trying to prevent a disaster, not understand it! "

“And what about us? Aren’t we a disaster?” he pressed; his voice steady but laced with emotion. “I feel like I’m just a means to an end for you. Like this baby is just another project for you to manage. You don’t even see me anymore.”

Your breath quickened as you leaned forward, your heart pounding against your ribcage. “That’s not true! I care about you- goddamn it, I love you! But I can’t let my guard down. Not when I have so much at stake!”

“But I want to be a part of this!” Namjoon said earnestly, leaning in closer. “I want to be involved, not just the guy you called to help you make the baby. This is supposed to be a journey we take together!”

You ran a hand through your hair, frustration still clawing at your insides. You didn’t even realize you’ve been crying until you felt the warmth on your cheeks.

 “I... I don’t know how to do that Namjoon. I’ve been hurt too many times. It’s just easier to plan than to hope.” A wave of defeat crashed over you with that admission, and in an instant, the floodgates opened, releasing a torrent of unspoken fears and buried tears.  

Namjoon leans back slightly, giving you the space to breathe.

“Planning is fine, but it can’t be everything. We need to figure this out together. We need to create space for our uncertainties.”

Your shoulders sagged, the tension in your body softening. “I just… I’m scared.” You hiccupped in between sobs “What if I let go and it all falls apart? What if I lose you?”

 “We’ll figure it out. Together.”  He reached for your hand, gently squeezing it. “But we can’t do that if you keep pushing me away.”

You finally met his gaze, feeling vulnerability flickering within you like never before. “I don’t want to push you away. I just... don’t know how to trust.”’

“Then let me help you learn.”

Your breath catches in your throat, and you look down at your clasped hands, tears spilling freely, each drop a silent testament to the weight you’ve carried alone for so long.

“I’m not saying it’ll be easy or that we won’t argue,” he said softly, his thumb brushing over your knuckles, “But I’ll always fight for us. I just need you to meet me halfway.”

His words struck a chord deep within you, unravelling the layers of your defences, leaving you feeling exposed and fragile. Yet, amidst the vulnerability, a flickering of hope ignited in your chest- a whisper that maybe, just maybe, this could be the beginning of something new, something different. That something you’ve been looking for…

Namjoon watched as tears spilled down your cheeks, his heart aching at the sight. He reached across the table, offering you a handful of napkins. “Here,” he said softly, his voice an anchor amidst your chaos.

You took them, dabbing at your eyes and blowing your nose, feeling a mix of embarrassment and vulnerability. The weight of everything hung between you, thickening the air with each second you stayed quiet.

“I’m sorry,” you murmured, your lip quivering “I didn’t mean to break down like this.”

“It’s okay,” he replied, his expression as gentle as it always was with you. “You’re allowed to feel, to let it out.”

The warmth of his understanding buoyed you, validating your feelings and bringing you closer to the surface, where you could finally breathe again, where you could be weak and yet know that he would never use that to harm you. Because your hurt, in turn was his own. He understood that your struggles affected him too.

“Joon, I know we’re in the middle of a fight. But do you think you could hold me just a bit?”

Namjoon’s gaze softened at your request, a sliver of surprise giving way to warmth. Without hesitation, he slid his chair closer, wrapping his arms around you and you leaned into him. The familiar scent of him grounding you amidst the storm of emotions as you nuzzled closer.

“I’ve got you.” he murmured, his voice low and soothing as he tucked you against his side.

In his embrace, the world outside faded- the bustling kitchen, the other patrons- leaving just the two of you, cocooned in a fragile moment of closure.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice muffled against his shoulder. “I didn’t realize how much I needed this.”

He tightened his hold, his breath warm against your hair. “You don’t have to apologize for feeling. We’re in this together, remember?”

You nodded, letting his words sink in. The vulnerability of the moment washed over you like a wave, only this time, it was comforting rather than overwhelming.

“Yes. Together.”

As you sat there, the rhythm of his heartbeat echoed in your ears, grounding you. “But did you hear the part where I said ‘I love you’? because I can say it again if you need me to.”  You said after a moment, your voice still soft as you looked up at him.

Namjoon’s eyes softened, and a warm smile spread across his face. “I heard you,” he replied, his voice low and sincere. “And you already know I love your right? Because I can say it again too”

You couldn’t help but smile at his playful response. “I do know,” you replied, feeling warmth blossom in your chest. “But hearing it never hurts.”

Namjoon chuckled softly, the sound soothing your frayed nerves. “Well then, I love you,” he said, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart race. “I love you more than words can say.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Ah, fuck, fuck, Namjoon, baby, fuck.” You moaned; your fingers twisted in the sheets as he worked his magic in between your legs. Your huge belly was in the way, blocking your view of him, but you could feel the warmth of his body, and the flick of his tongue against your clit.

You had read all the books, knew all the facts about pregnancy and sex. But nothing could have prepared you for this feeling. For the way Namjoon made your body come alive with each pass of his tongue. You completely lost count of how many times you came, your legs trembling and breath coming in sharp, short gasps.

You were so in the moment you didn’t even register the fact that Namjoon was giggling like a little kid against your pussy instead of actually eating it.

“What?” you were completely dazed.

“You can’t cuss like that! The baby might hear you.” Namjoon said as he came up for air, still grinning from ear to ear, dimples evident on his cheeks.

You couldn't help but laugh at his playful demeanour. "Oh, you're so funny. The baby can't hear me, he’s still in the womb."

"But still, I don't want my child to come out into this world thinking his mother has such a dirty mouth," he said, his tone serious but his eyes betraying his amusement.

"Well, I'll watch it then," you said, your hand reaching out to playfully mess up his hair. "But for now, I think you have some unfinished business to attend to." You place your foot on his shoulder and push him back down.

Namjoon’s grin widened as he lowered his head between your legs once again, and you close your eyes, losing yourself in the feeling of his tongue and the knowledge that you crated a life with this amazing man.

 As you reach your climax, you let out a loud moan, not caring if the baby can hear you or not. Namjoon continues to lick and suck, drawing out your orgasm until you're left breathless and satisfied.

And then you gasp suddenly, not the pleasure-induced gasps you've been slipping out for the past hour, but like realisation just struck you.

"Namjoon!" you said, placing a hand on his shoulder and pinching him to draw his attention. At that Namjoon almost jumps out of his skin, panic settling in.

“What? Is the baby coming? Did I hurt you?"

"No! No! Look!" you quickly grab his hand and place it over your belly, right as your little baby boy decided to kick again. "He's moving!"

Namjoon's face lit up with awe as he felt the baby kick for the first time.

“Little Cosmo is moving!”

You groan, falling back into the pillows, “We are not naming him Cosmo!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Epilogue:

“Joonie! Dae!” you called out, your voice ringing out over the crashing waves “Come over for sun screen!”  

The sun hung high in the clear blue sky, casting a golden glow over the tropical island. Waves lapped gently against the shore, creating a soothing rhythm that blended perfectly with the distant sounds of waves breaking against the cliffs, and occasional seagull that seemed to laugh at the world below.

You’re secretly glad you listened to Namjoon’s advice to go on this trip in June instead of September as you initially planned. You thought visiting during a quieter time would help you avoid the crowds, but it turns out that’s not a concern at all when your sweet husband can simply rent a private beach for you.

You spread the towel on the warm sand, glancing around at the vibrant scenery- the lush palm trees swaying in the light breeze, and the sparking blue ocean stretching endlessly before you.

A moment later you spotted them- Namjoon, his broad smile bright against the backdrop of the beach, wearing his swimming trunks and looking absolutely delicious, holding Dae in his arms. The little one’s laughter was infectious, bubbling up like the waves crashing nearby. Dae’s tiny limbs waved in the air, delighting in the freedom of the open space.

“Coming!” Namjoon replied, his tone playful. He jogged over, the sun glinting off his skin, showcasing his pretty abs and the carefree spirit of the day.

You watched, your heart swelling with happiness, as he settled down on the towel next to you, carefully placing Dae between you.

“Alright, little man,” you said, taking the sunscreen and squirting a generous amount into your palm “Time to protect this adorable face of yours.”

Dae giggles, showcasing his dimples, squirming in delight as you rubbed the sunscreen on his cheeks. His soft, sun-kisses skin felt warm beneath your fingertips, and you couldn’t help but marvel at how quickly he was growing. Just a few months ago, he was a tiny bundle in your arms, and now he was a full-grown toddler, potty trained and everything.

And just like planned, he was the perfect mix between you and Namjoon. You noticed that the first time he started crawling- how he would stop to investigate his surroundings, cautiously moving around as if he was planning his next best step. But when it came to Namjoon, he felt safe enough to throw caution to the wind. 

Your heart almost stopped the first time you saw your precious little angel climb to the top of the tallest slide in the park, a feat that made you want to rush over and pull him back. But there he was, beaming with confidence, looking back at his father with pure trust in his eyes, before fully leaping off the edge without a hint of hesitation, knowing Namjoon was right there to catch him.

You quickly retrieved Dae’s bucket hat before he managed to squirm off, expertly equipping him, pushing his dark hair out of the way adjusting the hat snugly on his head. “My handsome little man,” you said proudly, earning a delighted squeal from Dae, followed by an enthusiastic “Mommy, go splash!”

“Okay, okay, go splash.” You giggle, letting him dart ahead towards the water. The moment his little feet hit the wet sand, he was off like a rocket, his laughter ringing out as he ran towards the waves.

You followed closely behind, your heart light with joy as you watched him dip his toes into the ocean.

He paused for a moment, eyes wide with wonder, before jumping back as a wave rolled in, soaking his legs. He laughed, grinning from ear to ear.

“That’s it baby!”

Namjoon walked over, his arms wrapping against your waist, pulling you into his hard chest, placing a quick kiss on your neck. “You know, I’ve been thinking-”

“That’s not good,” you tease, a smile spreading across your face as your gazes stayed on Dae, who was poking at the sand.

Namjoon chuckled softly, biting your neck playfully. “I’ve been thinking,” he starts again, making sure you listen before continuing “maybe it’s time we give Dae a little sister.”

You turn to him, surprised and delighted. “A sister? Really?”

“Yeah,” he said, a twinkle in his eye. “I can just imagine Dae being the best big brother. He’s so loving and protective.”

“Well, maybe you won’t have to wait so long for that.” You teased, your heart racing at the thought.

Namjoon’s eyes widened slightly, a grin spreading across his face. “Are you serious?”

“Maybe,” you said, a playful glint in your eyes. “What if I told you I’ve been thinking about this too?”

“Now you’ve got me curious,” he replied, leaning in closer, his expression a mix of excitement and surprise. “Are you trying to tell me something?”

You laughed, feeling the warmth of the sun on your skin and the joy of the moment. “I guess we’ll just have to see where life takes us.”

Namjoon’s smile grew wider, and he pulled you in for a quick kiss, but it was quickly interrupted by a little wet, sandy hand pulling at your leg.

“Mommy! Look!”

Dae’s eyes shimmered as he held up his tiny little fist, opening it to reveal a little yellow crab desperately trying to escape.

“Why doesn’t that surprise me?” you laugh, bending down to get a closer look.

The little creature wiggled its legs, clearly unimpressed with its current situation.

More Posts from Callmenoona25 and Others

2 years ago

can we get amnesia trope with namjoon pleaseee?

Never Forget You

Pairing: Mafia!Kim Namjoon x Reader

Warnings: Soft Yandere, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

3000 celebration

Can We Get Amnesia Trope With Namjoon Pleaseee?
Can We Get Amnesia Trope With Namjoon Pleaseee?

“Do I know you?”

You visibly stiffened when you heard his deep voice. You tried to calm your heart that was beating too fast, tried to breathe slowly. But how could you pretend like nothing was happening when Kim Namjoon was literally standing in front of you? When it had been almost a year since you last saw him?

When it had been eight months since you left him?

When it had been eight months since you last saw him bruised and bloodied?

You heard him chuckled softly when a moment passed and you still didn’t acknowledge him. You were terrified. You knew nothing was simple with him. You knew nothing was uncomplicated when it came to you and him… and Namjoon suddenly appearing in front of you made you lose all the progress you made.

You thought you had escaped him. Yet now, he was standing in front of you.

Suddenly, you were back to being that naive girl who loved him too much.

“I’m sorry if I scared you. It’s just that…you looked familiar,” Namjoon trailed off when you finally looked up at his tall form. The first thing you noticed was the scar on the side of his forehead, a clear and bitter reminder of how the two of you ended on what seemed like lives ago. The second thing you noticed was the color of his hair. The old Namjoon would never dare color his hair, but the man in front of you was spontaneous enough to do so.

The last thing you noticed about him was his eyes- they were no longer angry. His eyes looked as angelic as the first time you met him. Kim Namjoon looked at peace.

And so, you lied.

You lied because he deserved the peace and you were terrified.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know you.”

The second time you crossed paths with him again was after two months. You decided to move again the very next day that you saw him. You were certain you weren’t safe, that you needed distance from him for your sanity and his peace. However, destiny seemed to laugh at your efforts.

You were walking, your eyes focused on the scenery on your way to work when you felt someone crashed into you, cold liquid poured on your white shirt. The dark contrast of coffee against your shirt was enough to make you lose your composure. You were about to unleash hell on the assailant when you saw who it was.

However, his face shut you up. Of course it was him. Again.

“I’m so sorry!” Kim Namjoon exclaimed in a horrified voice, his mouth focused on your wet shirt and the see-through brassiere that you snapped your fingers in front of him.

“Eyes up here, Namjoon!”

He looked at you sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck when he realized what you said…when he realized what you called him. Suddenly, he lost the apologetic look on his face, his eyes widened with curiosity and suspicion.

“What did you just call me?” He asked in a deep voice. He tilted his head to the side, his mannerism even before the accident. You hated how you still knew about this. You so badly wanted to erase him from your thoughts.

In fact, it should have been you who lost the memories. In that way, you would be able to escape his memories: the good and the bad.

You stepped back when he walked closer to you. You were glad that this happened in public. You wouldn’t be this glad, though, if this happened eight months ago. If this happened eight months ago, Namjoon would just simply take what he wanted regardless of the consequences.

“You called me Namjoon,” he stated, his eyes taking you in. He looked lethal despite the changes in him. For heaven’s sake, the old him wouldn’t be caught wearing a tote bag like he did now. The old him wouldn’t even dare wear whatever he color of clothes he was wearing right now.

You opted to look at his chest rather than his eyes, which he found rather unacceptable. You gulped when you felt his finger tilting your chin up to meet his eyes. “Do you know me, sweetheart?”

Sweetheart. The one he used to call you so lovingly…yet sometimes he did so mockingly. You were shaking when you met his curious eyes.

He chuckled without any emotions when moment passed and you didn’t confirm nor deny. “Was I a bad person that you would lie to me about knowing me?”

He wasn’t. Until love or rather, until obsession swallowed him whole.

For the second time, and what probably was the last time, Kim Namjoon let you go. The tears that were pooling in your eyes were enough for him to gently let you walked away from him.

“Are you going to be honest now?” He asked his father who was sitting in front of him as though he was the king himself. In a way, he was. They sat on top of the hierarchy in the underworld, and Kim Namjoon before the accident was the King when his father stepped down. He was the king, yet he couldn’t lead right now because of his memories.

They said he was chasing after someone when it happened.

They said the person wasn’t important and that the person was now gone.

The doctor was confident that he would remember everything in due time, which was fine to him. Really. It was fine. However, he felt a constant stabbing pain in his heart. He felt incomplete. He felt as though his world lost its balance.

Something was missing.

Someone was missing.

Because if not, how could he explain the dreams that both haunted and enchanted him each night? How could he explain the scenes similar to that of a movie whenever he closed his eyes of a girl who loved him?

Someone loved him.

And he was desperate to remember her, to get her back in his arms where she obviously belonged. He was simply restless.

“What are you talking about, son?”

Gently, he laid his palm on the wooden table. He leaned in, his calmness a mask to his insanity. Namjoon was always calm, yet his calmness was lethal. His father knew about this. Most especially, you knew about this. “Don’t lie to me,” he whispered in his deep voice. “Who was I chasing that night, father?”

His father thought he deserved the truth, yet he didn’t want to him to know. His son had always been levelheaded, yet when it came to you, his ever-loving sanity vanished. Personally, he thought it was a blessing in disguise when he forgot about you.

He should’ve known, Namjoon would never just let go. His obsession was stronger than the clean state of his memories. He recognized that obsession because he too was once obsessed with Namjoon’s mother. And it was his love that drove her away.

He didn’t want it to happen to Namjoon.

Yet, it still did. He drove you away.

“And this time, please don’t lie to me.”

He regarded him with his eyes, “You were chasing your fiancé that night.”

Three months passed, and you hadn’t seen him since then. You moved once again, living peacefully. Or so you thought.

It had been thirteen months since you escaped from him. The car chase was something you would never want to relive, yet you could remember it clear as day. His love suffocated you. What was once a sweet relationship turned sour when he let the darkness won. He terrified you. His love was obsessive, his embrace became tighter, his kisses became more desperate the more he felt you pulling away. But didn’t he realize you pulled away because he stopped being the Namjoon you fell in love with?

And when you finally discovered how deep his obsession was, how people suddenly disappeared when he felt they were a threat, you had the courage to leave him. But he didn’t take it easy. Of course, he didn’t. When he found your ring on his bedside table, he lost it.

And that was how the car chase happened. That was how he lost you.

You turned your head to look in front of you when you heard someone sat. You thought that finally, your date your coworker set you up with finally arrived. But instead of him, Kim Namjoon was there.

He sat down comfortably, his eyes focused on the menu. And you knew, you just knew that he was back. His hair was dark once again. Gone was the tote bag and simplicity in his clothes. Now, he was sporting the usual suit you knew he favored.

It scared you that he hadn’t once looked up at you. He only did so when he placed his order, and you noticed he ordered for two. He ordered your favorite.

He remembered now.

“W-what are you doing here?” Your voice trembled as you took him in.

“You’re here, sweetheart. Where else would I be?” He asked in a mocking voice, his eyes finally on yours as he took you in.

Thirteen months you ran.

Thirteen months he lived without you.

He had enough.

“What did you do to him…”

He leaned in, his head tilted to the side. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. We only…talked.”

“Don’t lie to me!” You hissed, anger getting the best of you. “What. Did. You. Do?”

Suddenly, the restaurant was emptied by men wearing dark suits. And then they dragged the bloodied man inside. You were crying, you didn’t realize until Namjoon wiped your tears. He hated seeing you cry. It was his weakness.

Perhaps, he loved you too much.

“Shh,” he comforted you, standing up to kneel beside you. He looked into your eyes with overflowing love, with too much love that it drowned you. “Nothing will happen to him. I promise you.”

He kept his promises, always.

After all, he promised you that he would never leave you. And beyond his memory loss, he never left you. Namjoon kept on coming back.

“If you marry me now, nothing would happen to him.”

You looked at his sincere eyes. He looked worried over your state. “Do you promise?”

“Yes, sweetheart. I promise.”

That night, he slipped back the ring you left. That night, Kim Namjoon promised that he would love you forever.

That night, he promised to himself that he would never let you escape again…and that he would never forget you again.

Can We Get Amnesia Trope With Namjoon Pleaseee?
Can We Get Amnesia Trope With Namjoon Pleaseee?
1 year ago

Desecrate

Desecrate

A fall from grace causes you to stumble into the hands of a demon prince. Inspired by Lilith.

Pairing: Yoongi x f! reader

Word count: 2.6k

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Sex, swearing, mention of murder, non-explicit attempted assault, angels and demons

Min Yoongi is older than most creatures to walk this Earth, this much he knows. It’s been years since he last felt that any of the petty skirmishes mortals involve themselves in was worth any of his interest or his time. 

Even though time, for him, stretches out, almost infinitely. 

He doesn’t know your face at all, but you catch his attention, and hold it. He can sense your mortality slipping through your fragile grasp as you grapple with the men holding you down. 

You’re not going to win, though he admires your grit. 

Yoongi’s no stranger to blood but he has no desire to watch you get used and torn to shreds. He’s moving on when your eyes meet his. 

You plead with him wordlessly, desperately, as the light dims in your eyes. 

Yoongi knows that this is a dangerous time, the twilight between living and dying. You’re straddling both worlds, dying even as you push uselessly at the hands around your neck. 

It would be facetious to say that Yoongi kills without a shred of remorse. It’s more truthful to say that he kills without a thought. 

He’s standing amidst the mess he made, you at his feet, your face pressed to the ground. 

You’re unconscious, but you’ll live, unlike the men Yoongi dispatched on your behalf. 

There’s something unbearable to him about the way the lovely line of your cheek is touching the dirt of this human dumping ground. 

Yoongi doesn’t know what possesses him, but he takes you with him as he leaves. 

***

You wake in stages, in a very human way. 

Your eyes flicker open, shut. Yoongi can hear your heart accelerate, your breathing quicken, he can see your muscles tense. 

Your mouth opens on an inhale, and your eyes flicker open again. 

‘Where am I?’ you rasp. 

Your voice is soft, plaintive, your vocal cords swollen from your assault. 

‘You’re in my home,’ Yoongi replies. 

When you turn your head to look at him, your eyes are more focused. 

‘And who are you?’ 

‘I saved your life,’ Yoongi tells you. 

He watches as your eyes scan the domed ceiling, the painted frescoes, the stained glass. Your gaze stops at a scene of the Madonna. 

Yoongi studies your profile, the dirt smudged on your cheekbone he’d not bothered to wipe off.

Your gaze returns to him.

‘You’re Min Yoongi.’

It’s not a question, but Yoongi’s compelled to answer anyway, because the fact that you’ve guessed his identity means there’s more to you than he first thought.

You sit up, and Yoongi wonders how he managed to miss the celestial aura emanating from you. 

Lords and beings.

You’re an angel.

Seokjin is never going to let him live this down.

Min Yoongi, ancient slayer of humans, demonic legend from the mediaeval history of man, saved an angel.

Yoongi gets up, lets a tiny fraction of his darkness show. His voice deepens, resonating through the chapel.

‘Leave.’

You’re frightened, he can see it in the way you’re tensed, body held taut like a bow.

‘I can’t. It’s the night of Pandemonium.’

Pandemonium marks the beginning of when the Gates of Hell open each year. From your reaction, Yoongi guesses you’re a young angel, limited in power, incapable of cloaking or protecting yourself.

He laughs sardonically. ‘I don’t think the home of the bulgasari Prince is the right place for an angel on the night of Pandemonium, do you?’

You clasp your hands.

‘I’m not an angel.’

Yoongi stares at you.

‘Not anymore. I was cast out.’

For the first time, Yoongi feels a flicker of interest.

He can feel the scales in his mind threaten to tip by the tiniest of margins. 

For the first time, he thinks he might not kill you.

Seemingly unaware of his internal debate, you take a step closer to him.

Towards the most dangerous being in the room.

Yoongi flicks his tongue over his lower lip, steps forward so you can see him in the red glow.

His human form is beautiful, drawing others in. Leading them to their own destruction.

He can see the way your pupils dilate, your tongue wets your bottom lip, as you see him clearly for the first time.

‘You want to stay with me?’ he asks, silky. He takes another step.

You tilt your chin so you can keep looking at him.

‘Show me how much you want to stay.’

Yoongi turns his head towards the painting above the hearth.

‘Destroy it.’

You turn to the painting. 

It’s from the 14th century, by a little known Italian painter called Diavollo, depicting the death of Santa Lucia. He was gifted it by a corrupt nobleman in exchange for his life. Yoongi had taken both. 

You cast a defiant look at him, rush towards the painting. You stop, head bowed, before it.

‘I can’t.’ 

‘You can,’ Yoongi says, pitching his voice low, letting the heat of it flare out to you.

You clasp your hands together again, despairing. ‘I can’t.’

Steps heavy, head bowed, you head for the door. 

You stop just inside the front entrance to the chapel, as if giving him a chance to change his mind before he sends you to certain death.

Yoongi’s had countless beings plead for mercy from him in his long life and he has never once given in.

There’s a stirring in the recesses of his mind as he admires your profile for the last time. It feels like longing.

Then you’re gone, door swinging closed behind you.

***

Yoongi dislikes gatherings like this, when the princes of Hell and their delegates celebrate their misdeeds in front of the beings who serve them.

If Seokjin hadn’t asked him to attend as a personal favour, Yoongi would be in his home.

Oddly, he’s not been able to look at the Diavollo since you gave your life rather than destroy it.

He wonders if that sort of foolishness is what got you exiled.

He’s thought about your face so much that when he sees you, he’s momentarily stilled.

You’re knelt at the feet of Malvarius, the highest ranking demon of Yeomna’s court, save for Seokjin, and Yoongi himself.

Yoongi watches with revulsion as Malvarius scratches a bloodstained nail along the line of your neck, stopping at the iron collar around your throat.

Malvarius wraps his fist in the chain attached to your collar, tugs.

You fold to the ground in a heap of loose limbs and the sheer drapery he’s dressed you in.

Yoongi finds he still doesn’t care to see your face against the ground.

He approaches the demon, and you.

When you see him, there’s a flicker in your eyes.

‘She’s mine,’ Yoongi says, unceremoniously, to Malvarius.

Malvarius, the treacherous devil, says smoothly, ‘Pardon me?’

‘I made her a deal,’ Yoongi replies, preternaturally calm. ‘She owes me.’

Malvarius sits up, and Yoongi realises there’s a crowd gathering.

It doesn’t take much to have demons baying for blood.

Malvarius draws himself up to his full height.

‘Do you mean to say, Yoongi, that you own the soul of Azariel’s only daughter?’

Yoongi blinks.

Azariel, the most revered of the archangels, is a name that strikes fear even in the hearts of the most seasoned of demon princes.

You’re Azariel’s daughter? 

Yoongi remembers the way you cried over the Diavollo as you walked to your death.

You’d not used your father’s name as a bargaining chip. 

Yoongi says, coolly, ‘One fallen angel is just like any other.’

‘She’s a lusty slut,’ Malvarius remarks. ‘Can’t stop opening your legs for me, can you, angel?’

You gasp in pain as he pulls up on the chain, making you dance on your toes to keep from being choked.

Yoongi finds he doesn’t care for the sight of you in pain, either.

‘Give me what’s mine,’ he says, bored. ‘Or we can ask Yeomna to mediate.’

At the mention of the lord of Hell, Malvarius scowls. The last time he clashed with Seokjin, Yoongi had come very close to removing his power, Yeomna’s rules be damned.

He tosses the chain on the stone floor with a clang.

‘To your new master,’ he says, with little grace.

Yoongi removes the collar from around your neck.

‘Follow me,’ he commands.

Yoongi leads you through the debauchery, ignoring your gasps and sobbing breaths as you step through blood, entrails, sex. 

It’s only when you’ve followed him all the way back to his door that he speaks to you.

‘I’m deciding what to do with you,’ he tells you. ‘You will stay here, whilst I decide.’

‘My father won’t engage in barter for me,’ you say immediately. ‘He’d as soon as I was dead as alive.’

‘You must have done something terrible, angel.’ 

Your mouth clamps shut, lips flattening into a straight line.

‘Did you kill?’ Yoongi asks. ‘Maim?’

You barely react to his taunting tone.

‘Were you envious? Greedy?’

You’re quiet.

‘You’re not wrathful,’ Yoongi observes. 

He waits until your eyes meet his.

‘That leaves pride, and lust?’

From the way your face tightens he knows he’s stumbled upon his answer.

Yoongi lets his eyes travel to your beautiful form in the sheer silk you’re draped in.

Your breasts press against the material, rounded, enticing, and as he looks, your nipples tighten visibly.

‘Ah,’ Yoongi says, voice dropped to barely a whisper. ‘He said you were lustful.’

Yoongi leans down, close to your cheek, and enjoys the way you shiver as he breathes on your skin.

He flicks the tip of his tongue against your skin, and your pupils dilate so much your eyes are practically black.

Your lips part on his name, and Yoongi, for the first time in a long while, feels a surge of lust.

You stay completely still as he touches your cheek.

‘What do you want from me, angel?’ Yoongi taunts. ‘Aren’t you fallen enough?’

Your breath trembles in your chest as his fingers tighten on your face.

‘Come,’ says Yoongi. ‘Show me how you fell.’

He lets go of your face to caress the swells of your breasts, and you gasp, but you don’t stop him.

Instead, you arch your back to press your breasts into his palms.

‘You want more?’ Yoongi asks. He knows you do.

He grasps the front of your gown, rips it all the way down.

Your thighs tighten on his hand as he reaches between your legs.

Yoongi’s hand explores you, leisurely, slow, until you’re twitching and trembling.

Your nipples are so sensitive now that when Yoongi rolls his tongue around one you buck your hips into his hand.

‘Uhngh,’ you moan. 

Yoongi thumbs the bud at the top of your sex, and your warmth pulses around his fingers.

Wet, hot, tight.

Yoongi drags his tongue along the round of your breast, and your breathing hitches.

Your nipples are so puffy and erect they almost look painful.

You whine as he grasps your rounded flesh. The sound causes a stirring, low in his belly.

Yoongi’s cock swells at the sounds you make. You’re so pleasured, breathless, and he’s barely making any effort.

He’s already almost fully erect when your soft hand brushes the front of his groin.

‘Bold for an angel,’ he says.

There’s a spark in your eyes, clouded with lust. 

‘How many angels have you defiled, Lord Min?’

Yoongi considers your question as his eyes roam your beautiful body.

‘None,’ he tells you.

You smile, and you’re so pretty he can’t take his eyes off you.

‘Luckily, I’m not an angel any more.’

Yoongi smirks. ‘Let me show you how the other side lives.’

He turns, and you follow.

***

You’re lost, Yoongi isn’t sure when it happened, probably between your fourth, maybe fifth peak.

He’s covered in your arousal, he can taste you on his lips, on his tongue. His cock’s still so rigid inside you he’s aching, caught in the delirium between pleasure and pain.

He plunges into your wet warmth, rocking his hips against yours.

Your arms are limp, one draped around his neck, just barely holding on, the other splayed out, fingers uncurled. You look dazed, fucked out, teetering on the edge of consciousness.

You cry out as Yoongi moves, dragging his cock against the walls of your cunt, and he notes with grim satisfaction how hoarse your voice now is.

‘Yoongi,’ you beg, ‘wanna feel you.’

‘You’ll feel me,’ he promises.

You shake your head. ‘I want to feel your pleasure.’

Yoongi groans as you hold your legs apart for him, letting him see exactly how he cleaves you apart , the way he looks entering your core.

He wraps a hand around your neck, tight, and your eyes close. Your hand snakes around his wrist, urging him on.

You’re clenching around him so sweetly Yoongi’s disarmed, and when you press a kiss to his temple he releases, shouting your name, spilling inside you.

Belatedly, he remembers to loosen his grip around your neck, and as you remain still he feels an unnerving wave of fear that he might have hurt you.

He says your name, and you stir. Relief floods through his chest. 

‘Stay,’ you mumble into his chest. ‘Stay.’

Yoongi curls his arm around you, a display of skinship he’s unused to but that you seem to want.

He wonders, curious, why he’s swayed to want to give you what you want.

***

You wake during the night. 

Yoongi’s flat on his back, arm propping up his head. He watches with dark amusement as you look your fill at his naked form. 

‘You’re too wide-eyed considering you have my seed all over you,’ he drawls. 

You blink at him. ‘I was surprised to wake, my lord.’

‘You thought I’d kill Azariel’s fallen daughter?’ Yoongi muses, not bothering to acknowledge how close to the truth you are. 

‘You do have a reputation, Lord Min,’ you say, so seriously that it takes him a moment to realise you’re teasing him. 

He’s startled into laughter that sounds rusty even to him. 

You turn over, breasts spilling onto the silk bedcovers, lush and beautiful like you were made to tempt him. 

His cock stirs, and it doesn’t escape your notice, minx that you are. 

You reach for him, gentle, soft against his hardness. 

Yoongi groans, eyes never leaving you as you stroke him. Your lips part on a breath, tongue flicking between. The cavern of your mouth feels like the heaven Yoongi will never know. 

He’s never rued being born a demon prince until this moment. 

Yoongi pulls you off his rigid shaft, seeks the warmth between your legs. You’re already gasping, spreading to take him, so soft and slick and willing he can barely hold himself back. 

His hand finds its way around your neck again, squeezing, and the pleasure ramps up a thousandfold. 

Your back arches as you peak, and this time Yoongi doesn’t have the patience to deny himself. He groans into your hair as he fills you, remembers to loosen his grip. 

You’re emboldened to press a kiss to his lips, a moment of contact so searing Yoongi’s jolted out of his post-pleasure daze. 

Neither of you speak, and neither of you makes a move to leave. 

***

It’s just past dawn when Yoongi stirs to the back of your entirely naked body. 

You’re getting re-dressed, helping yourself to his clothes. 

‘I should go,’ you say. 

Yoongi hadn’t realised you’d noticed he was awake. 

Pandemonium has passed, but Yoongi finds he doesn’t care for any possibility that you might get hurt. 

He rises, unclasps a chain from around his neck, fastens it around your own. The ancient rune now hanging between your collarbones is distinctly, identifiably, his. 

There aren’t many who would seek his wrath. 

‘My father will —--’ 

‘Rue the day he let you fall into the hands of a demon prince?’ suggests Yoongi. 

The hint of a smile plays around your lips, and Yoongi can’t tear his eyes away. 

‘I’ll be back,’ you say. There's a faint question in your voice.

‘See that you are,’ Yoongi replies. 

You bow slightly. ‘My lord.’ 

You take your leave, and Yoongi allows himself to watch you go until you slip between two buildings, and then you’re gone. 

©hamsterclaw 2023

1 year ago

The Story Of The City of Valoria

The Story Of The City Of Valoria

Warning : This story contains mentions and description of violence, blood, gore, torture, smut, snake hybrid smut, betrayal, angst and negetive emotions and slight religious aspects.

Authors note : Hello guys, it's my first time writing here and I hope I am doing everything right- the pictures used are not my own and have been taken from Pinterest. Credits to the owner. Plagiarism is a crime, don't do it

And overall I hope you would like this series. (P.S - This is and x OC story, there will be both Namjoon x OC and Yoongi x another OC here.)

Masterlist

Next

--------------------------------------------------

Prologue

She, was missing.

Her best friend was missing.

Luna felt like screaming her lungs out. There was no news of her being reported missing, nobody seems to know her, or more specifically, REMEMBER her.

She felt like she was spiraling down the dark into a void filled with despair. Her best friend was missing and nobody seemed to care or notice.

Her only source of happiness was missing.

Luna had called every single one of her mutual friends to ask about her whereabouts but there was no answer. The only thing she heard from them was "who are you talking about?"

Granted, she and her best friend had not met before and had bonded through texts and calls. But it was a bond like never before. Both of them were ready to give up everything just to help each other out, hell, they even planned to run away from thishell hole of a household to live together in peace in a shared apartment.

Where did everything go wrong?

Yes, everything went wrong exactly a month ago.

Luna remembers it clearly. That single text, that single phrase. Was enough to move her to tears.

Luna had vented out about how the situation in her house had turned worse, how both she and her brother was affected by it. But her brother was just 6 year old, and was never on the recieving end of the harsh reality.

Wait for me, my moon.

After that, she just disappeared.

Several texts, several calls, none went through. None of them. She stared and stared at her phone, waiting for that one text from that one person she was waiting for.

As she laid on her couch, drained, she remembered all those fun and deep conversations she had with her best friend everyday. It was the highlight of her day, a break from the harsh reality.

Suddenly, a noise resonated through the apartment.

It was from her phone.

She scrambled towards it, hoping for some news and what she saw made all the pent up emotions just flourish in her body. Her blood thrummed in her veins as her hearing felt distance and eyes focused.

Come to the rooftop for me?

Luna wanted to scream. To cry. To hit her, to curse her, for making her go through all those terrible emotions.

She ran towards her room, not caring if her brother was asleep inside or not. She hastily grabbed a jacket and ran out of her apartment. She was thankful that her parents weren't home that night.

She couldn't wait for the elevator to arrive, so she ran up the stairs.

Finally she saw the metal door leading to the rooftop and banged it open and stepped out. The wind was blowing gently against her warm and sweaty skin as she huffed, her heart beat accelerated.

There, sat on the edge of the roof was a familiar figure, dressed in complete white.

Their eyes met each other and Luna could feel a new wave of tears resurface.

The figure hopped down from her own seat and walked over to her with the same loopside grin.

"I take it that I was very dearly missed?" Her cheeky voice spoke up.

At this Luna stepped hard on her best friends foot making her yell out in pain.

"Fucking OUCH HoNey-" she cursed as she hopped around on one foot holding her other injured foot.

"WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU, YOU FUCKING PSYCHOPATH. DO YOU KNOW HOW FUCKING WORRIED I WAS? I COULDNT SLEEP FOR DAYS! DAYS YOU IDIOT. I CALLED UP ALL OF UR SO CALLED FRIENDS AND THEY ALL JUST- PRETENDED NOT TO KNOW YOU? WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON HERE?!" Luna burst out in anger and frustration.

At this, the latter stopped and her face turned peacefully grim. She took a step forward towards the girl and embraced her.

"I'm sorry" Luna heard her.

Luna embraced her back as she cried a river into her best friends soft shirt as the latter gently caressed her hair.

"I was so scared" Luna whispered, hiccuping at nearly every syllable.

"Shh honey, I'm here now and nobody can take you away from me. I promised you a good life and I am here to keep it" Her phrase made Luna feel extremely confused.

She moved away from her and asked "What do you mean".

In return, she got a gentle, comforting smile as her best friend started.

"I want to take you to a place where you will get a second chance at life. This life that you were blessed with is way too miserable and filled with misfortune. I want to take you to a place where you will be yourself, do whatever you wish to without a worry in the world. Nothing shall be forced upon you other than peaceful existence. Will you trust me? And come with me?"

Luna's head was reeling. Sh couldn't believe what she heard. A second chance? She wants to escape. She wanted to grasp that second chance. Her mind told her to run. It was all very suspicious. She shouldn't divulge into such things.

But she trusted her bestfriend. Whole heartedly. And she knew her best friend would never let any harm come to her.

Slowly, Luna nodded her head.

At this, her friend smiled so brithly, even the sun would feel shy and hidebehind the clouds.

"Do you need to pack anything? Even though everything will be provided to you there. Any trinkets or such?" Her best friend asked.

"My books? What about my book?" One thing that kept luna grounded and away from the harsh reality, even for a limited time, were her sweet collection of books.

"Don't worry, I'll make sure to have it delivered to your place of stay. Now, be a doll and hold my hand?" The familiar loopside smile made its appearance on her face.

Luna chuckled, shaking her head as she grasped her hand. "Ever the charmer aren't you?".

"Only for pretty people like yourself darling" she winked.

"Now, I want you to trust me on this." Before Luna could utter another word or even comprehend what was going on, she was suddenly dragged forward along with her sprinting best friend who was running towards the edge of the roof.

And, her best friend leaped off into the air, taking Luna with her.

The Story Of The City Of Valoria
9 months ago

Sounds interesting!

The Missing Paper Clause Chapter Index

Summary: As a psychologist working for the military in a secret compound on an island in the middle of nowhere, it's your job to maintain and analyze the emotional states of every specimen brought into the programs that happen within the compound. Suspicions start to arise when you keep getting brushed off and being told you're irrelevant more often than not. Specimens start arriving from undisclosed locations and you keep getting barred from paperwork that you need to help you do the job you are brought here to do. So why not take matters into your own hands.

Notes: I'm going to try my best to not completely forget this thing exists, but I'm also not making any promises. But I hope you guys like this, because it's using all my creative juices.

Chapters: 5/?

Chapter 1: New Arrival

Chapter 2: Notes on Specimens and Insulting Coworkers

Chapter 3: A Cute Nurse and an Illegal Phone Call

Chapter 4: Feminine Attachment Hypothesis

Chapter 5: Personal Recreational Ruse

Chapter 6: Impatience and a Patient

2 years ago

Love

Love

Namjoon is your ex-husband, the man who committed when he didn't really want to. So why is he still hanging around now that you're over?

Pairing: Namjoon x f!reader

Rating: 18+

Word count: 2.2k

Genre: E2L

Warnings: Sex, mean Namjoon

Kim Namjoon thinks of himself as slow to react, more of an analytical overthinker than a knee-jerk reaction kind of guy.

But when he sees the man put his hand on his ex-wife’s shoulder, he’s stepped between them and steered her away without a second thought.

You look pretty with your hair down, he thinks to himself.

He doesn’t notice the way you’re frowning at him until you swat at his arm.

He realise he’s slipped it around your waist, holding you the way he always used to when you were married.

‘Mr Kim,’ you say, haughty, lifting your chin.

‘Why are you calling me that?’ he asks, hurt. ‘Joon-ah is just fine.’

‘I can’t call you Joon-ah,’ you reply. ‘That’s over familiar.’

Namjoon resists the very strong urge to remind you of all the times you’ve cried his name.

Joon. Joon-ah. Jagi. Baby.

You’re looking at him with a brow creased with concern. ‘Have you lost weight?’

‘Yes,’ he says, seeing an opportunity. ‘I don’t get your cooking anymore.’

‘Namjoon,’ you say, stern. ‘You can afford to eat anything you want.’

‘It doesn’t taste the same without you,’ Namjoon says. He flashes a dimple at you for good measure.

‘Stop trying to be cute,’ you chide. ‘It doesn’t suit you.’

In all reality, Namjoon’s never thought of himself as cute, but you’ve always seemed to find him so.

He smiles, and he can see the corner of your mouth tugging upwards.

Then you sigh. ‘Come on then, let’s get you some food.’

Namjoon places a hand on your back as you leave the room together, enjoying the familiar feel of your back under his palm.

You arch a little, reminding him of a angry cat.

‘Namjoon,’ you say, warning.

‘Sorry baby,’ he murmurs, obedient. 

You look at him, eyebrow raised, and he grins at you, cheeky.

You laugh. ‘Namjoon. Stop.’

Namjoon knows he’s in then. It’s never that hard to work his way into your good books. 

***

The next morning he wakes to your naked back as you sit up. 

‘Hey,’ you say. 

He loves the warmth of your smile, especially when you’ve just woken up like this.

‘Hey,’ he says, shifting in the sheets, propping an arm behind his head.

He can see the way your eyes drop to his bicep.

‘I’ve been working out,’ he tells you.

You roll your eyes and get up, ignoring the way he’s openly ogling your ass.

Your back to him, you ask, ‘hey, want to get dinner later?’

Namjoon’s been watching you so closely he can see the way your whole body stills, just for a moment, as you wait for him to answer.

He doesn’t want to give you false hope. 

You’re exes for a reason.

‘That’s not a good idea,’ he says.

Your voice comes out smooth, assured. 

‘Of course,’ you say. 

You’re fully dressed now, slipping into the heels you were wearing last night, picking up your clutch.

You turn to him. 

‘See you around, Namjoon.’

Namjoon watches you walk to the door of the bedroom.

He doesn’t move, doesn’t get up to see you out.

You keep walking like you don’t expect him to.

***

The party Namjoon’s at is a drag, his date is beautiful but her friends are dull, uninteresting.

He’s considering pulling his date into a corner, a quiet alcove, a little light seduction, when you walk into the room.

You don’t see him at first, which is funny because he’s one of the tallest people in the room.

He drinks you in. You shine, you always have in his eyes, with the way you hold your head up, the way your eyes coolly survey the people around you. 

The dress you have on makes his pants feel tight at the crotch. 

You’re looking around, casual, and then your eyes meet his.

And freeze.

Namjoon drops the arm he’s still got loosely slung around his date.

The look in your eyes makes his heart squeeze. Then you look away, and when you meet his gaze again your expression is shuttered.

You wave a hand at him, casual, and turn to greet the couple who’ve approached you.

It’s a while before you’re unaccompanied.

Namjoon comes up to you, confident in the way he knows you find attractive.

You smile at him, cool, confident in your own way.

‘Nice dress,’ he says.

‘This old thing?’ you reply. You take a sip of wine, eye him over the glass.

‘Enjoying the party?’ Namjoon asks.

‘I am,’ you say. ‘You?’

‘More now,’ Namjoon says. 

He moves so he’s closer to you. He’s always liked the way you have to look up at him.

You’re not looking at him, though. You’re facing away, and Namjoon realises you’re looking at his date, coming towards the both of you.

Hye Mi’s no fool. She takes in the way he’s standing, turned towards you, and she smiles sweetly at him.

‘Shall we get going, Joon?’

Namjoon allows himself to be led away. He looks back at you once, and you’re staring down at your wine like it’s fascinating.

There’s something about the line of your shoulders that speaks of emotion, held back.

He thinks, not for the first time, how beautiful you are.

***

Namjoon’s at the gym working with his personal trainer, when he sees your familiar ponytail.

You’re running, facing out at the floor to ceiling windows, ponytail bouncing, expression determined.

Namjoon sees an opportunity when the machine next to yours frees up.

He gets on, catches the way you look over casually then freeze when you see him.

You smile and then turn to face forward again.

He’s a patient man. He runs alongside you, slow, until you stop your machine and get off.

You’re out of breath, sweating, hair sticking to your face.

You’re beautiful.

You say, casually, ‘See you, Namjoon.’

‘Wait,’ he says. ‘Want to get a drink?’

***

He ends up buying you a beer at the sports bar a block down from the gym because ‘one drink, somewhere close’ is all you’ll agree to.

You’ve changed into a hoodie, baggy sweats, tied your hair back loosely.

You eye him over your beer. ‘All good with you, Mr Kim?’

‘All good, Mrs Kim,’ he replies automatically, because it’s what he used to say to you.

Your mouth twists into a grimace.

‘Yeah sorry ex Mrs Kim.’

Namjoon’s irrationally annoyed with you, like how he felt in the final stretch of your failed marriage.

You’d acted like you couldn’t stand him, looking through him, acting like you and he were in a race to check out. 

One you were determined to win.

And now you’ve both lost. 

A part of him wants you to pine after him the way he pined after you. He’s still butthurt about it, so sue him.

Namjoon looks up at his name being called.

Hye Mi’s walking towards you both, a furrow between her brows that gives him a tingle of discomfiture. 

‘Hey,’ she says, voice sharp.

You look up, and Namjoon can see the way your back snaps straight.

‘What’s going on here, Namjoon?’ Hye Mi asks.

‘I’m having a drink with Y/N,’ Namjoon replies. He’s got just enough beer in him to not give a fuck about Hye Mi, he’s still got just enough residual anger with you to not care what you think, either.

Why does talking to you make him so angry sometimes?

‘You’re divorced, right?’

You look up, brow raised, that cold bitchy face on that makes Namjoon simultaneously aroused, scared and a tiny bit in love with you.

‘Yeah but we still fuck sometimes,’ you reply, brazen, shrugging with a calculated insouciance you only get when you’re angry. 

Namjoon’s been on the receiving end enough times to recognise it, now.

Hye Mi looks at him, like she’s waiting for him to speak up.

Namjoon can’t muster up anything better than, ‘yeah, we do.’

You snort, Namjoon laughs, and Hye Mi storms away.

You chug the last of your beer and get up. ‘You’re an ass,’ you tell him. ‘She’s not gonna fuck you again.’

Namjoon shrugs. ‘That’s what you said when I moved out,’ he reminds you.

You laugh quietly. ‘You’re an asshole, Namjoon, no wonder our marriage didn’t last.’

‘Wait,’ Namjoon calls after you, as you turn and step away. ‘Aren’t we going to?’

You give him a once over, from his scuffed sneakers to his loose sweats to the chain between his collarbones. 

‘Nah,’ you say. ‘I have plans.’

Namjoon watches you walk away.

***

Namjoon’s loading groceries into the back of his car when he sees you, walking briskly towards your car. 

You walk fast, always like you have somewhere to be. 

He’s about to call your name when you’re greeted by a tall man in a suit. 

The way his hand slips under your elbow, helping you reach up to press a kiss to his cheek, rankles Namjoon. 

It’s familiar, intimate. 

Namjoon calls your name anyway. 

You turn around, scanning for him. Namjoon notices then that you’ve got makeup on, that your hair is styled beautifully.

That the dress you’re wearing showcases your perfect ass the way it deserves to be shown.

You walk over, the tall man in tow.

Namjoon’s got no interest in a dick swinging contest when you spent the night riding his own dick two nights ago.

You’re introducing the tall man as Seojoon, and Namjoon works to hide the flicker of emotion across his face when you introduce him as Namjoon, your ex husband.

How well do you know this guy that you’re so open about the truth between you?

Seojoon nods very politely. ‘Shall we get going?’ He smiles at Namjoon, a clear dismissal, and Namjoon moves quickly. 

He says your name, locks eyes with Seojoon over your head as you turn to him.

You’re looking up at Namjoon, curious.

‘Let me know if you need me,’ Namjoon says quietly, leaning down to speak close to your ear.

‘I’ll be fine,’ you reply just as quietly.

Namjoon watches, jaw set, as Seojoon cups your elbow and leads you away.

***

The buzzing at his door is insistent, like someone’s jabbing erratically at the call button.

Namjoon already knows it’s you.

He pulls open the door, scoops you into his arms and tosses you on the couch.

You’re looking up at him, lips stained from red wine, hair falling over one eye.

Namjoon cups himself over his loose sweats.

‘Get on your knees,’ he says, voice thick from the sleep you pulled him out of.

You’re already sliding down to the floor, head in front of his crotch.

Namjoon weaves a hand into your hair, grips tight.

‘Come on, finish what you started,’ he says, harsh.

You haven’t done anything but look up at him with wide eyes and parted lips, and Namjoon’s cock is already filling out.

‘Didn’t he fuck you well enough?’ Namjoon jeers.

He pulls your face against his hardening cock. 

‘Why’d you come to me, ex-wife?’

‘I don’t know,’ you spit, defiant. 

It’d be more convincing if you weren’t already burying your face against his crotch, mouthing over his erect cock.

‘I know,’ Namjoon says, voice velvety as you tug down his sweats. His cock jumps out, pokes you in the face, and you moan like you can’t wait for it.

He grabs your hair, tugs you up, slaps your hand away from where you’re trying to grab him.

‘Because no one fucks you like I do,’ he tells you.

His voice is quiet but stark in the silence of his apartment.

He pushes your legs apart, enters you, and the breath you suck in sounds like a sob.

He doesn’t want to see your face right now.

Namjoon stares at a point in the wall as he begins to move, concentrates on how your cunt feels around him.

You’re so quiet he wants to check on you but he can’t. 

He doesn’t give a fuck but that’s not the whole story, because behind the wall he’s built he thinks that he still loves you so much he can’t face it.

And when you’re under him like this, the look in your eyes makes him want to cry.

Namjoon hisses because it’s snug, him being in you like this. He hits deep, rocking his hips against yours, stroking your clit until your breathing’s more of a steady pant against his neck.

‘Joon,’ you manage, high and sobbing, and Namjoon, against his better judgement, flicks his gaze to your face.

You’re beautiful, and he could fuck you forever if you’d let him.

‘Come on, come on,’ he grunts. He grasps your ass, pulls you against him, grinds his cock so deep he thinks he might pass out from the pleasure of it.

He thinks that your cunt pulsing around him is the single greatest sensation of his life.

‘Fuck,’ he groans. 

You’re milking the cum out of him, and Namjoon needs to give you all of it.

Fuck, he needs to give you everything.

There’s a beat of absolute stillness at the peak of his orgasm as the world stops. 

And then it all comes rushing back.

He floats for a while then, relishing the scent and feel of you.

Your voice sounds out in the darkness.

‘You’re right, Namjoon, no one fucks me like you do.’

Your voice is completely neutral, a cover for the shades of meaning underneath. 

‘I know, baby,’ Namjoon says. 

His tears mingle with yours.

He knows he should get up, but for now, he can’t seem to let you go. 

©hamsterclaw 2023

2 years ago

Ahhh! So that’s what Smoke Sprite means! I was wondering about that!

무한한 황소윤
단정 짓는 순간 확장되는 ‘소윤무한육면각체’. 소윤의 정규 2집 가 증거다.새소년이 기획하는 ‘Hello, World!’ 시리즈 공연을 지난 주말 봤습니다. 팬데믹이라 3년 만에 열렸어요. ‘Hello, World’는 프로그래머가 프로그래밍 언어

in an interview with vogue korea soyoon said smoke sprite “refers to the effect that people disappear when they explode like a bomb in a cartoon”

1 year ago

jimin and taehyung are only two months apart but jimin sounds like hes 12 and taehyung sounds like he’s gone through puberty twice and this is why i have trust issues 

2 years ago

He is just…😍😍😍

MC Joon For The Dictionary Of Useless Knowledge
MC Joon For The Dictionary Of Useless Knowledge
MC Joon For The Dictionary Of Useless Knowledge
MC Joon For The Dictionary Of Useless Knowledge
MC Joon For The Dictionary Of Useless Knowledge
MC Joon For The Dictionary Of Useless Knowledge
MC Joon For The Dictionary Of Useless Knowledge
MC Joon For The Dictionary Of Useless Knowledge
MC Joon For The Dictionary Of Useless Knowledge

MC Joon for The Dictionary of Useless Knowledge

2 years ago

masterlist

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2 years ago

It's the difference between the belt grab and the 🍆 grab for me.

The way JK grabs into the smallest part of himself and Joon grabs the largest part 🥵😅

[disintegrates]

cr. @hrlykoo on twt

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callmenoona25 - Call Me Noona
Call Me Noona

Lover of all fanfics. She/Her. Of legal adult age since 1998. Kim Namjoon is my obsession! 😁

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