Namgimin | baby Min, daddies Namgi 'verse
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After leaving him, Namjoon hadn't been able to keep himself from obsessively checking their mobile baby monitor and had near enough broken into a jog as soon as he'd heard him Min stir.
He'd arrived at his nursery just in time to catch Jimin rubbing his Pooh Bear over his snub nose and smacking his lips around the teat of his pacifier (his favourite, buttercup yellow one), the baby's brow scrunching and lashes all aflutter with slight concern.
"That's it, honeybun," Namjoon murmurs under his breath, a shiver running up his spine despite the cloying heat.
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He's is their baby, after all; clueless without his Daddies guiding hands. Babies need consistent expectations and Yoongi and Namjoon don't always quite manage that. What is a tap to his upturned palm for one is a clothespin pinching the tip of his tongue for the other.
It begins to seem to them as though there's not a mealtime that goes by where their boy doesn't hump his way through half of it- grinding down into the restraints that strap him into his high chair. He's always so sure he's being subtle, hiding what his hips are up to, but his flaming cheeks alone are a dead giveaway. Round and red like Honeycrisp apples.
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“We in trouble, duckling?” He asks quietly, well aware of how often Min’s trips down to his studio coincide with his having been issued some kind of warning from Daddy Joon.
He doesn't doubt that Namjoon is also well aware of where J.min spirits himself off to whenever he's dodging discipline but sometimes (just sometimes), the little one is given a brief reprieve. Mostly because it’s extra endearing when Joon ‘finds’ him a little later on- Jimin doing what he can to hide behind Yoongi and pleading with his Dada to ‘saves’ him.
Truthfully, Yoon is never in too much of a rush to return Min to his husband’s harsher hands. Instead, he nuzzles into Jimin's hair and inhales a good lungful, catching the essence of vanilla sugar cookies and his organic baby shampoo.
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Being spoiled and lavished upon is something Jimin craves and both Yoongi and Namjoon have more money than they have resolve. They wouldn’t have gone seeking out a little boy to add to their relationship had they not had the funds to make their shared fantasies a reality. It had started with a bespoke Winnie the Pooh nursery and a Chanel Deauville diaper bag and years in, it showed no signs of slowing down. He has them wrapped around his itty-bitty baby finger and it’s exactly what they’d dreamed of, even before they’d chosen him.
Jimin is their little prince. The carved wooden name sign on his nursery door has a crown atop it to prove that.
Looking him over where he’s perched atop his changing table, waiting expectantly, Yoongi knows that he’s worth far more than however many million won they spend on him, with his halo of angelic blonde hair combed neatly and his rounds cheeks like ripe, red apples, shiny where Yoongi had patted lotion into them.
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