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bangtaninborderland · 2 years

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PJM: Trust Me

Summary: Jimin asks for your trust once more and this time you give it to him. Inspired by this video.

Genre: Fluff, smut

Warnings: smut - sub and dom undertones, teasing, denial, degradation (minimally - use of the word dumb, slut, cums1ut.), fingering, hair pulling, choking, rough s33x ?, oral ( m receiving) humiliation?, honestly it’s just absolute filth.

A/N: I really worked so hard on this please share your thoughts, this is the final part, I may do an epilogue but it has been really fun writing this little fic. I am so proud of jimin for his Dior deal. I’m sorry this took so long to come out I’m currently going through a little personal crisis. Anyways, enjoy 💜 also a huge Thank you so much for all the love you have shared on the first three chapters, the response was and still is overwhelmingly beautiful l'm so glad over 400 of you have enjoyed it enough to like it and continued to read for the majority of it. I’m so sorry if I didn’t tag everyone for some reason it wasn’t letting me edit it. I will be doing an epilogue on the wedding and some scenes with Aeri and yoonjin getting a little closer and then I’ll do a special chapter of the family dinner and that will be this all wrapped up, it’s crazy to think this started as just a little smut fic wrote for some friends. Seriously thank you all.

Taglist: @filtrmin @blairtann @parkjiminlovies

Previous chapter ⇐ |

You didn’t know wether to move, to speak or to continue staring and the blank spot on the wall right beside Jimins head.

“It wasn’t exactly how I wanted to ask you.” You see his nerves as he rubs the back of his neck, looking just as unsure as you no doubt.

“Jimin?” It was the only thing you could say.

Of course you’d considered marriage, you’d never thought about spending a day without the man ever since you met him but that was always something you’d though about dealing with when the time came. Were you really ready?

You remained still as he walked towards you, shaking off whatever nerves he was displaying so clearly moments earlier, his hand encasing your own as he falls to his knees. You was about to protest but it was cut off instantly his head shaking as he presses a kiss to your palm.

“I know what you’re doing, I know what your thinking, don’t do that.” You can’t help but stubbornly smile at the way he understands the inner workings of your mind without you having to vocalise it. You stay silent letting him know it’s okay to continue.

“I have a confession to make.” a breath “In the past ten years I’ve helped release many love songs but I was a fraud, at least until the day I met you. I never knew what love was like, i watched my parents and wondered if I’d ever have a love like that, I watched the members have countless relationships, I watched sappy love movies that Jungkook complained about but nevertheless agreed to watch and then cried about” a laugh “but I had never had a love until the day I met you. I remember it like it was yesterday, you standing there like a wet dog scared i would murder you instead of just giving you a ride home, you knowing who I was but treating me just like another being.” a smile “I had this whole thing planned out, the calls, the schedule, the lies that I probably show have been more careful about, it was all to plan a perfect day full of happiness where eventually I would drop down on to one knee and do this.”

He moves his hand to his pocket pulling out a box

“You are my warmth on a cold day, my confidence when I’m overthinking, my energy when I’m tired, my hope on a bad day, my joy on a good one, you’re the person who puts everything aside to be there for me, the only person who treated me as me and expected me to be as such. I cannot imagine my life without you, I can’t imagine coming home and you not being there. I know it’s hard, the schedules, the tours, performances, fans, rules, I know it’s draining but you’ve stayed through it all. You’ve been my person in a way I never thought I’d be lucky enough to experience. I want to give you the world, I want to take you to every country and show you the most beautiful things, I want to bring you as much joy for the rest of my life as you have brought me in the years we have been together, I want to be your husband and some day if we are lucky enough I’d very much like to be the father of your children. So I am asking you.” a tear “will you give me the honour of being the person who gets to love you for the rest of your life. Will you marry me?” a sob.

For a moment you forgot how to breathe, forgot how to move, forgot how to think, for a moment the world stopped as you flashed your lips against his, your head nodding conveying an answer your mouth could not.

Forever was a long time but you knew, you know you’d spend forever with him.

“Is that a yes?” He asks pulling back from the kiss, his face as tear stained as your own.

“Yes it’s a yes.” You laugh, a sense euphoria surround you both.

“The ring?” He asks, holding the box towards you.

In the midst of his beautifully worded speech he had forgotten to do one of the most important thing, show you the ring. Although, it didn’t matter for all you cared it could have been a piece of string and you would have said yes.

You looked at the box for a few seconds before opening it, it was safe to say you was both surprised and in love with it. It was a slim silver band with a simple white diamond in the middle, the sides donning more of the sort just in purple and half the size. It was jimin. It was so jimin and you loved it.

“I didn’t know if you’d like it if you don’t then it’s fine we can go to the store and change it I had it altered the purple ones were added as an extra… so I probably couldn’t return it because it’s customised … but we could get another one and you could keep that one if you wanted to… I mean not keep it if you don’t like it you could sell it… could you sell a engagement ring…do people sell them.. probably right? EBay? I don’t know.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at him, shaking your head. “It’s perfect, no one will be selling or returning anything and it is definitely not going on eBay. Put it on me husband to be?”

You didn’t miss the smirk that crossed his face as he took the ring box from your hand, not only was the ring perfect the size was too. “I love it so much, I love you.”

“I love you more, did you really think I was going to break up with you?” His voice was deep, a lower tenor most likely a byproduct of the crying session you had both participated in.

Your earlier accusation hit you in the fact, the embarrassment working it’s way through your mind. “Yes, you’d been acting weird min and your phone calls sounded like you’d been planning it.”

“You listened to my phone calls?” He raised an eyebrow.

“No.” You winced. “Not really I just overheard it when I was coming back into the room, I should have said something but I didn’t want you to feel like I was invading your privacy, I’m sor-“

He was actually shushing you, his finger pressed over your lips and for a second you shamefully though about biting it but refrained when he pulled it away.

“My privacy is your privacy. Namjoon and Jin Hyung were right they both said it would seem like I was lying to you and I can see how it may have looked that way but I just wanted to make it special for you. I wanted to show you how much I love you.” The pout across his lips was adorable.

“I know minie, you made it special for me even if it wasn’t done in the way you wanted. Every day is special with you.” You felt better reassuring him, in a way it reassured you too.

“You know there’s still a very big engagement party taking place tomorrow right?” He asks dropping his head to your shoulder, his small frame bigger against your own.

“You really planned to ask me tomorrow? Who was going to be there?” You leaned your head to the side giving him better access to your neck where his lips had began to place small kisses.

“Some of my family, some friends, the members. Small.” His answer was short and you was grateful for that, his hands distracting you too much as he caressed your hip.

You threw your head back, just about ready to ask him to bed you over right then and there before he stepped back leaving you in utter confusion. “Busy day tomorrow.”

Definitely time to provoke him, after all you was able to be devilish too sometimes. “So tonight you’re all mine then, won’t you remind your fiancé how good you can make her feel?”

“I wouldn’t start with me right now sweetheart. I’m not sure i would be most forgiving.” Your pussy throbs at the dominant tone to his voice.

Mustering your best innocent face you look up at him through your eyelashes. “Oh and what would you have to forgive?”

“My fiancé is a slut who forgets who she belongs to.”

Fuck Park fucking Jimin.

You was ready to drop to your knees, your voice and confidence stolen by the man.

“Bedroom, now.”

You scurry up the stairs, almost falling back down them as your foot missed a step towards the top. The bedroom was clean, even in his busiest moments Jimin made sure your home was perfect. You smiled at the thought before focusing on your own dilemma; where to sit.

You thought about laying across the bed but that didn’t seem like enough, not for tonight. So you did something for the man that you hadn’t done in a while - after stripping down all but your underwear, you dropped to your knees, head down, hands on your clothed thighs.

Jittering butterflies beat around the wall of your stomach as you heard his footsteps near, slowly rounding into the room. “Aren’t you a beauty.”

“I’m your beauty, Sir.” You blush at the use of the title.

“Sir tonight is it? Not Jimin? Not baby?” You could already guess the way his expression would look as he asked the question and as much as you wanted to see it you refrained, whenever things got like this he was in control and he did not like disobedience.

You almost nodded but remembered the rules he had set the first time you’d had this kind of play. Moving without permission was a big no. “Yes Sir.”

“You’re so fucking perfect, take my cock out.”

Your hands shot up to the waistband of his sweatpants before being smacked away, the movement making you jolt back.

“Sir?” You questioned, your eyes flicking towards him for a second, dazed with confusion.

“Did I say use your hands?” His voice was firm but laced with a superiority that made you feel embarrassed “I know my fiancé can be a little dumb sometimes so I’ll let you try again.”

With your hands crossed off the list you knew the only option would be to use your mouth. It was rare that Jimin liked to be degrading or to humiliate you, usually opting to be dominant in a softer way. However, it was a lie to say you didn’t love when he got like this, your pussy already coated in a slickness from his words alone.

You struggled to get your teeth around the waistband, something jimin thankfully didn’t comment on, his hand coming to caress the back of your head instead.

“So you can think for yourself.” You groaned at what his praise implied, just as you managed to pull his sweatpants low enough for his already hard cock to spring free.

You couldn’t help trying to take him into your mouth, you wanted him, you wanted him in your mouth, fucking your throat. You were stopped however when Jimins fingers gripped your hair, forcing you to look towards the ground. “Sluts don’t take what they aren’t given, do they?”

“No Sir.” You squealed, his grip in your hair tightening.

“Go lay on the bed, hang your head off the edge, you want to be used so bad I’m going to fuck your throat and you’re going to take it.”

You practically threw yourself on the bed, head hanging off to see him standing right in front of your face, you didn’t have time to catch a breath before he was lining himself up against your mouth and forcing his cock inside. You let your jaw go lax, careful to make sure your teeth were no where near him.

“You look so pretty with my cock down your throat baby, you were made for this.” His hands caressed your hair, his breath shaky and you gag around him.

The sight of him was ethereal, head thrown back, his hair falling down his forehead, his eyes focused on you and only you. You wished you could take it all in for a few more minuets as he pulled you off, giving you a chance to catch your breath, his hands reaching out to steady you as he helps you up.

“On the bed doll, I want you facing me.” His lips grazed against your jaw as he gave you a nudge towards the mentioned furniture.

You silently nodded, voice hoarse from his assault on your throat.

By the time you laid down, which admittedly only took a few seconds, Jimin had rid himself of any clothing, his body bare. You admired it, every curve, every muscle, every perfectly drawn tattoo.

He was unreal, perfect, heavenly, and he was going to be your husband.

“I love you.” You whispered against his ear as he dragged his cock up and down your folds.

His breath was heavy, as he fucked into you, the words sounding rough as he moaned “I’m in love with you.”

“Fuck me Sir.” You dug your nails into his hips and he placed your leg over his shoulder allowing him better access to you, his arms supporting his body above you as he fucked you as if you was both nothing and everything.

All you could do was babble useless words, too high on him to think straight, his fingertips had began to draw maps over your tits, occasionally squeezing your nipple just enough to make you hiss in pleasure.

“I’m going to cum inside of your tight little pussy okay princess?” The question wasn’t really a question but you nodded anyway, just wanting more of him.

It’s all you could think.

Jimin Jimin Jimin.

You knew the moment he came as his body slouched over, his own moans louder than yours had been. He slid out of you as he sucked against the skin of your neck to which you whined in response earning a breathless laugh from him.

“My cock is never enough for you is it doll? Always so greedy for more.” You knew he was taunting you and you was happy to give in.

“Please minie, need it, need you.” You reached out for him, trying to pull him back as he slid lower between your legs.

He landed a warning slap against your thigh, enough to settle you down and allow him to continue whatever plan he had in mind.

You let out an embarrassingly loud moan as he caressed your cunt with his fingers, sliding them inside of you as his own mouth clasped around your clit.

You couldn’t help but grind against his face, chasing your own pleasures “More, please more, wanna cum on your face.”

He answered your pleas by angling his fingers and grazing them against your gspot. Your hands flailed to grab his head, unable to do anything else but enjoy the overwhelming pleasure. “Gonna cum.” You screamed as he grazed your clit with his teeth, finally giving you the push you needed to reach your orgasm.

He didn’t stop devouring your cunt with his tongue even as you rid your orgasm out, the pleasure becoming too much, enough to have you trying to push him away, the soft grip you had on his hair turning into a desperate attempt to push him away from your sensitivity.

His free hand only moved to grab your wrists, preventing any attempt at you getting away.

“Too much, plea- too much- jim - fuck” you couldn’t form a coherent sentence as you tried to move yourself away, the headboard of the bed stopping you.

You felt his cum dripping out from you as he continued to fuck his tongue into you, only stopping when he had determined he had enough. “How was it baby, how do you feel? Let me get you cleaned up okay? I’ll go run us a bath.”

You nodded even though you couldn’t make out what he was saying, your head hazy with the overriding pleasure he had given you. You don’t know how many minuets passed when you felt yourself being moved from the bed, tiredness wearing your limbs down.

You cling to neck, your head fighting to hide further away into his chest.

“I’m not going anywhere jagiya, just getting us into the bath.”

You relaxed at his words, you were always safe with him.

The water was a welcomed treat, you always felt better after a bubble bath, you had told Jimin that on your second date, it was adorable that he remembered even now.

“Jimin?” You lean back against his chest, the water rippling at your movements.

His hands wrap around your waist. “Hm?”

“Thank you for helping me.”

“What?”

“Thank you for helping me that day, thank you for picking me up and insisting on driving me home. Even when it was you who opened the car door I was still scared, idols can be murderers too you know. I never expected I’d fall in love minie, I never expected you to call my job the next week and ask me on a date, I never expected anything after that but I am so fucking thankful that it all happened. I don’t know what I have done to deserve you, to deserve your love but all I can do is be thankful that you chose to help me that day because it was the day I started to learn how to live.” You felt your face heat up as tears prickled at your eyes, as far as love stories go yours with Jimin will always be your favourite.

“Jagiya” his voice was strained, a sign he himself was crying too. “If I could go back I’d do it all over again, thank you for accepting me, for being with me and learning to love me not just loving the Jimin of BTS that the world sees. I remember being so afraid to ask you on a date. I spent hours talking to Namjoonie Hyung about it, he told me if I wanted something there was no reason not to take a chance on it because despite our fame we are still all just human beings who need human connections. I was shocked when you tried to pay for the first date but I think that was when I knew you didn’t want me for any other reason than just me, we both know I probably could have brought the entire restaurant but I’ll never forget the way you threatened the waiter to let you pay or you’d tell his manager that he had been rude.”

You both laughed at the memory, you were slightly disappointed with yourself for being so stubborn. “I wonder what happened to him.” You giggled.

“I tipped him for his troubles, the day after I went back and gave him enough to make him forget you. You know, I never thought I’d deserve something like this. Something just for me.”

“I’ll always be just for you Jimin, many things in life are but you are stubborn in your own way, you refuse to see the things you deserve but that’s okay because I’ll be here forever to show you.”

The conversation fell silent after that, his hands massaging your head as you both enjoyed the warm water. You didn’t stay in the tub for much longer as the bubbles dissipated, both deciding to get out than turn into prunes. He wrapped you up in a towel and helped you get dry before dressing you in one of his own shirts and tucking you into bed, the last words you heard being the sweet nothings he mumbled against your skin.

When you woke up the sun had covered the bedroom, the smell of food knocking your senses into action. Your body felt lethargic from your last night activities but the ache only made you smile. It would be a reminder of the way he made love to you.

You didn’t have a chance to get out of bed before he rounded into the room carrying a tray of breakfast.

“Happy birthday fiancé.” He smiled placing the tray over your legs.

“Good morning my husband to be. This looks amazing oppa come eat with me.” You winked at him as you mumbled the honorific you rarely used.

“You know you never call me oppa but you call Namjoonie Hyung and jin Hyung it and even sometimes yoongi Hyung.” He fiend a pout as he bit into a waffle.

“That’s because you specifically told me not too after that dinner with your parents.” You reminded him, after you had been dating for a few months he had wanted to introduce you to his parents, they had welcomed you with open arms and cooked a beautiful meal. You had wanted to show your best side so you remained respectful, however you had gotten way too embarrassed and ended up using the term towards Jimins dad. The whole situation was mortifying but it led to be a great memory that you all laugh at.

“Don’t ever bring that up whilst I’m eating” he huffs and you both break out laughing, the breakfast nearly toppling over as jimin fighting to cling to the bed sheets, his body nearly falling onto the floor.

A few minuets after your laughing fit he cleared his throat, his face more serious. “We have a short drive to take soon, I haven’t told anyone I proposed already I thought we could turn the party around and instead of it being a surprise party for you we arrive early and make it a surprise party for them.”

“Them who Min?” You asked, never getting a clear answer from him the previous day

“My parents and brother, the members and Aeri.”

You almost choked at the last name on his list on invited people, you hadn’t seen your cousin in over 5 years, you and your parents admittedly had a difficult relationship so you chose best to not speak, supporting yourself after moving out at 17. Aeri had been forbidden to talk to you, you were no longer good enough in your family’s eyes, once you left your parents you were disgraced.

“How?” You didn’t know what else to say, completely dumbfounded.

“She misses you, I managed to get her number and I called her and explained the situation, I told her I was going to propose and that you’d want her there. She’s alone too, your aunt kicked her out a few years ago she said she tried to find you but didn’t know where to look she didn’t know if you was still in seoul. She lives in Daegu but I had Yoongi Hyung pick her up and she’s currently at a Hotel.” He was patient as you broke down into tears, she had been alone this whole time.

There were so many things you wanted to ask but nothing seemed right. “How did she react when she found out who you were?” Somehow you deducted that was a smart question.

“Is that really your main concern?” He laughed, discarding the breakfast to to envelop you in a hug.

You nodded against him, breathing in his cologne. He always smelt good.

“Well she thought I was pranking her but when Yoongi Hyung picked her up she Instantly asked him if I was as short as he is.” You weren’t surprised at her question.

“How did he reply?”

“He told her to walk to seoul and locked the doors. It only lasted about 5 minuets before he finally let her in after she promised to buy him food as a token of her gratitude.”

“Did she buy him food?”

“I think she did, she told him he needed it to grow.”

You couldn’t hold in your laughter any more at that. You could already picture the look on Yoongis face as he grumbled some form of scolding that your cousin definitely would have ignored and continued teasing. She was always like that. Always fun.

You and jimin laid in bed for a little while longer before he pressed a kiss to your forehead and removed himself from behind you. “You have an hour to get ready jagiya I’ll be downstairs.”

You guessed he too had gone to prepare himself for the day as you heard the downstairs shower running.

The weather allowed you to wear something pretty, a designer dress that Jimin had brought you a few months ago but you had never had the pleasure of wearing.

Your hair was an easy fix, wearing it in a lazy ponytail.

You paired the blue dress with a pair of white heels and white thermal coat. You didn’t miss the way Jimin visibly froze as you walked down the stairs, his jaw dropping to the floor as you gave him a twirl.

“You look amazing.” You cut off his compliments with a kiss before leaning back to take in his own look.

He wasn’t dressed completely formal but his black dress pants and blue shirt made him look as if he was a model. “We are matching”

“Well we are going to get married so we have to start at some point.” You rested your head against his chest, the heels adding on a few more inches height wise. Although, not enough to be as tall as him.

“Are you ready?” He asked, his hand tracing circles over your back.

“I’m ready if you are.” You we’re both nervous and excited for the day.

“There’s one thing you’re missing.” He sighed, before you could ask he had already turned back around, heading for the office he rarely used.

He returned a few minuets later, gift bag in hand.

“Jimin no.” You was firm about your distaste for gifts, he was more than enough.

“Open it.”

“Jimin.”

“Jagiya”

“Don’t jagiya me.”

“Open the gift and I won’t.”

“You already got me a ring.”

“Yeah and if you don’t open the gift I’ll be giving you a baby.”

His argument silenced you and you nodded in defeat, within the bag was another small box, this one holding a bracelet.

The number 13 engraved into the small pendant.

“Jimin.” You didn’t know what to say, it was perfect, it was his number. He gave you a few minuets to compose yourself before securing it onto your arm. “If I cry I will ruin my make up and we don’t have time to fix it but thank you”

“Happy birthday jagiya, I know we can’t always be as public as we would like to be but know that I am always with you, always thinking about you and always tied to you. If it’s something you want I’ll talk to the company about making a statement but we can discuss that later okay? Let’s get going.” He held his hand out to you, he knew you’d need time to think about allowing the entirety of the world to know about your engagement, selfishly you wanted him to yourself for a little while longer.

The drive was quiet, the street only fairly busy but that was mostly because of how early it was. You could see Jimin was nervous from the way his fingers pounded against the steering wheel every time you come up to a red light, normally you’d give him time to think things out he often got caught up in his own head but today was one of those times you wanted him as carefree as you felt.

“Min.” You placed your hand at the back of his neck, massaging his scalp with his nails.

He leaned his head back slightly, making it easier for you to reach the other side of his head. “What’s wrong Jagi?”

“I’m the one who should be asking you that, you’ve already done the proposing so why are you so nervous?” You cocked your head to the side.

“I guess I’m nervous to tell everyone, I’m nervous to meet your cousin too I mean what if she tells me I’m shorter than Yoongi Hyung?” He laughed at his joke as did you.

You sighed feigning a nod. “I’m pretty sure she will.”

He cut you a short glare before refocusing on the road. “You’re so mean.”

“You love me.”

“That, I do.”

“I’m worried too, I’m worried to face your members and your parents, I’m nervous about seeing my cousin but I know you’ll be there holding my hand every step of the way. You’ve never let me fall before and neither have I you, we will face this the same way we will face the future.”

“And how is that?” He asks, body a little more lax.

“Together.”

You arrived shortly after the conversation came to an end, it was a small cabin surrounded by plenty of forestry, something that was both hard to find and expensive in Seoul.

“It’s beautiful.” You placed a chase kiss against his cheek as his fingers intertwined with your own, him walking a few paced in front as he leads the way inside.

“I had Jin Hyung and Aeri do the decorations, Namjoonie Hyung wanted to help but Aeri said he would probably knock everything down so he should just manage the playlist.” You couldn’t help but feel fond at the way your cousin had made herself feel at home with the people Jimin sees as family, it made you feel a little more comfortable with the aim of the day.

“So how long until everyone arrives?” You watch as he unlocks the door, completely sure he was taking twice as long just to make you wait with your growing impatience.

“Well don’t kill me okay? I know I said we would be here to surprise everyone but I guess I still wanted to make this special for you.”

“Jimin what? I don-“

You didn’t get a chance to finish your question as the door swung open revealing the faces of the people closest to you.

Cheers of “SURPRISE!!” And “CONGRATULATIONS” came from the members, with jimins parents waiting at the side.

You greeted them first giving them both a respectful bow before they each pulled you in for a hug. “I wouldn’t want anyone else with him, thank you for taking care of my son.”

The words of your soon to be mother in law sprung tears to your eyes, your previous worry of preventing your make up from smudging no longer feeling significant.

“Thank you for trusting me and letting me be a part of your family. I know we may not always get to see one another but I promise you I will be the best wife.”

“We never doubted that.” Jimins dad always made things seem so much easier than they were, his confidence in those he cares for always making things better.

You gave them both another hug before moving on to greet the members.

“HAPPY ENGAGEMENT NOT ENGAGEMENT BECAUSE JIMIN COULDNT WAIT PARTY NOONA” Jungkook half shouted wrapping an arm around your waist.

“Kook that makes no sense” Jimin doubled over in laughter as streamers were popped off from various corners of the room.

You turned towards Taehyung and Hoseok as they called your name, both of them hugging you at the same time. “Thank you for taking care of our Jiminie, I know it’s not easy but you always take care of us all.”

“I always will, we need to restart our monthly dinner parties.” You we’re fond of the times you had the scheduled meals, you’d always get to cook alongside either Jin, Yoongi or Jimin and it would be a way for you all to get to know one another.

“Ill mark it on my calendar.” Hobi was firm in his decision, pulling out his phone before you could respond.

“How is tan?” You turned to Taehyung who was already flashing his camera roll at you.

“He is so big” he giggled. You’d definitely make him send you those later.

You moved around the room towards the quieter man. “Yoongi oppa?”

“There’s the wife to be.” He smiled giving you his version of a hug.

“So you knew?”

He nodded in response, lips pressed in a line to stop his grin. “I did.”

“And you let me accuse him of dumping me.” You raised an eyebrow at him, unamused.

He laughed quietly before pretending to scold you. “Hey in my defence I told you to talk to him.”

“I can’t believe you.” You joined in on his silent laughter before looking back, you could see Jimin and Jungkook talking with his parents. “Do you really thing I’m good enough for him?” You felt free asking the question that had been plaguing your mind for the past god knows how many hours.

“I think that you need to see yourself as equal. You pick him up where he lacks as he does you. I don’t think I could ever imagine Jimin without you. It doesn’t matter who has what, if that’s the case you know jimin would pay every bill that ever came through but we both know you’d never let that happen.”

“Because we have an equal part to play.” You explain.

“That’s exactly me point. You are equals, neither of you is less or more and trust me I’ve known Jimin for a very long time and if anyone could make smart decisions it’s him. He chose you and you chose him, that’s all that matters.” You we’re thankful for him, even though he was emotionally reserved he was wise.

“You’re hogging her.” You could already hear the pout in the man behind you.

You turned to face him, putting on your best “serious” look. “Seokjin Oppa, no one is hogging me.”

“Aish, then you’re hogging yoongi.” He tries to hide his neck as it darkens a shade of red.

“I can make my own decisions Hyung.” Yoongi forces his drink down his throat to prevent any laughter.

Jin deadpanned. “You can not you called me at 3am last night asking what version of the song sounded better!”

“So I care about work?” Yoongi retorted.

Jin threw his hands up. “THEY WERE THE SAME SONG!”

“THEY HAD DIFFERENT SPEEDS!”

“NO THEY DID NOT!” Jin silence the younger man by walking away, mumbling about how the youth were unthankful for him.

“Well… family dinner sometime next month.” You informed the laughing man in front of you.

He just nodded at you, still smiling to himself.

Jin and yoongi had their own thing with one another, it wasn’t something that was every outspoken but you could notice it, Jimin had too. You were always happy to see those moments between them where they both indulged themselves with their own wants even if it wasn’t as usual as some may think.

You noticed the smaller figure towards the back of the small crowd and you couldn’t help but feel yourself torn between waiting for her to approach you or running and hugging her in the way you’d been thinking about since last night.

She made the decision for you, walking towards you in small steps. “Cousin.”

“Aeri.”

A best of silence before you both threw your arms around one another, the familiarity breaking your resolve and forcing you to tears.

Her hands gripped into your coat, her voice broken. “I missed you.”

“I missed you more. I’m so sorry I didn’t know you were alone I had no idea I would have tried to find you.” You explained your apologies faster than your brain could comprehend them.

“Don’t apologise, I couldn’t find you either. We can make up for lost time another day but right now you have a man who is head over his chelsea boots in love with you. Turn around.” She pointed over your shoulder and you followed her direction.

He stood behind you on one knee, his members behind him, his parents beside him. You followed him as he called your name.

“Jimin.”

“You look so beautiful.”

“You’ll make me cry if you don’t stop.”

“I know I did this last night but it’s only right to do it here with the people we love as witness. I cannot promise that I will be perfect, I will make mistakes but I promise I will always do my best to be the husband that you deserve. I promise I will do my best to bring you happiness and security in the same way you have me. I knew I was going to ask you to marry me months ago, it was when you came to the hotel with yoongi Hyung, you wasn’t angry you were just worried for me. I receive a lot of love in a lot of different forms but none of that can ever amount to the way you make me feel or to the love you give me. I know you have already said yes but it is in this moment I promise to love you with my entire being, to prioritise you, to promise you a forever. I promise to give you a love story others can only dream of.”

“I said yes once I’ll say it over and over again. I will do everything I can to be the wife you deserve. To support you the way you support me, to understand you the way you do me, to give you courage when you lack, strength when you’re tired, hope when you’re low, I promise to laugh with you and cry beside you. I love you Park Jimin.”

You can’t help but cry as he pulls himself up directly to kiss you, everything else falling away as you relax into him, embracing this moment as one you’ll never forget. You pull away a few moments later remembering the guests of your impromptu engagement party.

“Thank you for being with me.” He places a final kiss to you hand before nudging you forward in from of Namjoon.

You look back at him confused but he just gives you a reassuring smile so you turn to the leader who himself hands you another small box, you were definitely going to need a bigger jewellery shelf.

“I know bangtan is 7 but we want to welcome you into our lives the way you have done us, you’ve never judges us or shown us any indifference. You’ve been the person we can come too and share our problems without fear or misguidance. You’ve not only taken care of Jimin but also us in our lowest moments. So we wanted to give you this.” You can’t speak clearly, too wracked with tears but you accept the box opening it before loosing your composure. You’re sure you look a mess but you can’t help it.

“I know you’ve had it rough with your own family so this will always be a reminder we are here, we are eight with you.”

The pendant is shaped in a simple 8, small diamonds encrusted around the edges.

You feel multiple arms come around you and you’re unsure who they belong to but you welcome the comfort, letting yourself cry out all the years of feeling unwanted and unloved.

“Thank you” it was all you could say but nothing more was needed.

The party went on with no disruptions, there was more food than any of you could have stomached along with a beautiful cake to top it off, the music thanks to Namjoon and a very overbearing Yoongi was perfect. You danced until your feet hurt.

You weren’t sure at which part of the ride home you fell asleep but the soft blankets of your bed welcomed you as he carried you in, Jimins scent filling your senses as you pushed yourself closer to him.

“I love you, thank you for today, it was perfect.”

“A perfect day for my perfect woman.”

“And a perfect husband.”

“Thank you for loving me.”

“Thank you for trusting me.”

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gotdamlost · 23 days

Text

rp partners wanted (closed)

sup i'm bee. just another blog looking for long-term, rp partners who write with bts & like to chat ooc as well. i write on discord only & comfortably with those who are 21+. i am an enthusiastic roleplayer so i'd appreciate only reaching out if you feel like you can match that energy and if you'll actually communicate with me (not ghost). i become unmotivated going the whole nine yards with edits, playlists, pinterest boards, headcanons, etc. and not receiving the same energy or effort back. i'm over doing all the work to get a plot going. i'd also appreciate if there's some understanding on with patience & response times. i am not a person who's chronically online, so my responses are not instantaneous. roleplaying is a hobby i am trying to maintain with a full schedule. i extend the consideration to all who may partner up with me.

preferences

first and foremost, know IT'S OKAY TO SAY NO. its okay to say you do or don't like something. it's okay to say you are not feeling a plot or the vibes and discontinue interaction. people feel like just because we start plotting you're locked in. not at all. if i'm not a fit for you at any point just say so. i PROMISE you it's not gonna kill me or make me mad. in fact its better for everyone. people agree to be nice, because we exchanged discords and got so far. just be honest. it saves so much time. i enjoy: multi muse universes, world building, mafia, slice of life / romance, friendships, sci-fi, fantasy, angst, found family, plots / AUs of media i’m familiar with. i kinda wanna try a/b/o if anyone wanna take a chance w me on that i'm selective with: school / university plots, fictional celebrity AUs i won't write: supernatural (vampire/ angel+demon/etc.), plots based on real world events ( COVID, etc. ), smut focused plots.

literate to adv. literate (para, multi-para, novellas possible) but i’m so low maintenance. my rule of thumb is matching my partner.

I only write member x member. I don't mind writing as the members themselves or using them as faceclaims.

I feel like I can capture most of the boys in writing, except Taehyung. My aces are hyung line, but i'll play anyone. I really don't bug over ships but a few of my favorites include but are not limited to namseok, namjin, namgi, 2seok, minimoni, vmon, jikook, vmin, jinkook, jihope, & yoonjin. Not sure, just ask. I'm always open to explore dynamics.

NSFW and dark plots i'm chill with, but don't interact expecting just smut. If it's part of the overall plot, sure, but I have comfort levels. Important info to some so: i write all positions (top/switch/sub), stronger in some areas than others. I may not be the greatest but I write to learn.

i love doubling up, world building, and expanding the plot. i love collaborating with my writing partners. i don't like one sided plotting, i want to hear your contributions as well

at the point of plotting, if i don't hear back from you after a week, i'm dropping and moving on. no hard feelings, i really want to write and i've had enough of being ghosted by well-meaning people.

Feel free to like this post, drop into my IMs, or ask box to reach out for my discord tag if interested. If you've read this far, thanks for your time fr. hope to write with people soon.

EDIT: cutting this off for the time being while I get situated with plots. <3 Thank you for the interactions!

#bts rp #bts rp ad #bts roleplay #bts 1x1 #krp 1x1 #krp

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peachjagiya · 3 months

Note

A fun question

Which fictional trope (e.g. enemy to lover, bestfriend to lover, love at first sight, newly arranged married etc.) would suit all BTS ships?

Oh fun! I'm gonna out myself as a fanfic writer now 👀

I'm just going to write the first thing that comes to mind. No thoughts just vibes.

Namjin: established relationship 😂

Namgi: love/hate

Namseok: accidental marriage

Minimoni: College AU.

Taejoon: ... Fluff

Namkook: love at first sight

Yoonjin: cozy domestic

2seok: why did my brain immediately think "they have a kink in common" 😭

Jinmin: some kind of "five times they didn't kiss and one time they did" friends to lovers to friends.

Taejin: angels/demons AU.

Jinkook: chaos. Enemies to enemies.

Sope: grumpy-sunshine?

Yoonmin: long term pining; slow burn

Taegi: secretly soft.

Yoonkook: angst! HYYH.

Hopemin: Save The Last Dance For Me AU.

VHope: spin the bottle

Hopekook: High school AU.

Vmin: soulmates.

Jikook: ..... Let's be mature about it and say temporary love spell.

Taekook: friends to lovers; drunken confession; secret romance; canon-compliant 😏

Well this was fun. And it really is just for fun, ok?

Thanks anon. 💜

#my asks

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causesciencethatswhy · 9 months

Note

Was thinking how we get confirmation of some of the things years later. Like in today's ep jm said him, jk (confirmed) and either one of jin and yg (jm was a bit confused who but it could also be that yoonjin both left later like jikook) were the last ones to leave their dorm and remember how we used to think jikook "might" live together cause they used to share car alot during 2019-2021. Now idk exactly when they left their dorms but i do know the news of RM and jm buying house in nine one hit the media around june 1st 2021. Also that one BTS video where the boys were interviewing e/o and jk asked jm what was the most enjoyable thing these days and jm replied "The most enjoyable thing these days is waking up and seeing jungkook" idr but wasn't it around 2019-2020 when he said that? And jikook and yoonjin used to share car, jikook the most of times so i think yup jikook used to live in the shared apartment be it dorm or whatever that is. So we were basically right.

Intersting thing is even after RM and jm buying house we still saw jikook sharing cars now idk why that. Yes when minimoni brought their houses they shared car but it was like only few times but jikook still has shared cars few times here nd there so i wonder why is that maybe they love sharing cars or their houses are near or etc etc.

Maybe as the besties they're when it comes to car sharing they just simply put these two together knowing they have shared it before too. Remember how they shared car 4 days of concerts in LV? There's another thing who's confirmation we got way later but i don't remember that now but yeah.

Also the way tkkrs be like "but jungkook don't cook for jm he doesn't even have jm's number" both got denied in this ep....i know it's only them who believed their shit theories but they're sooo many in number and they spread it everywhere so it's like thousands of them i think like 99% of them belive that shit. "Jungkook doens't have jm's number why is it a problem it happens people don't have e/o's numbers why are you blaming tkkrs for it" i remember mfkr dionysustkk tweeting this. The way i wanna bitch slap that identity crisis human. Like bitch not only he has jm's number (sounds so fking silly to say even) he literally knows jm's House password and walks like he knows the place and even cook for the two of them so you can sit in a corner and cry me some river

Thank you for this mini timeline compilation anon!

I found it interesting that jimin knew for sure that jk was still with him at the dorms but couldn't confirm whether yoonjin were there too. Seems like a detail you'd recall I feel, unless you were spending a majority of your time with one person. And if we are to go by your timeline it does seem that even after moving out jikook seemed to have made a deliberate choice to take the same car on multiple occasions. I do think there was a period in mid 2021 and early 2023 where jkk were maybe not seeing each that frequently based on some of their conversations, but this docu has really made me re evaluate a lot of these assumptions.

Since 2020, we have gotten almost 1/3 the amount of behind the scenes ot7 content and that definitely had an impact on many peoples assumptions on the members relationships. It's why certain "groups" felt more confident in proclaiming that jikook were never close or only fanservice.

Tkkrs and their cult leaders will never stop in their attempts at undermining jikooks relationship with false narratives. It's something I didn't understand the need of when I first entered shipping spaces because if you believe tkk are real and in a healthy relationship, then why would assuming jikook are close friends, in any way would come in the way of that? Why did jimin need to be the villain in their theories so bad? It's only now that I kinda get that as a tkkr, they can't possibility perceive that tkk are in a 'genuine and healthy' relationship if they have to take jikook at face value. Cause the way those two interact and prioritise one another, does really throw tkkrs off gaurd. Which is why so much of their belief and foundation hinges on all of jkks interactions being fake and forced and jk secretly hating jm. Because the alternative cannot be that they're 'close friends" for them, once they start 'really seeing' jikook for the way they are around one another, it disturbs their perfect ideal.

Not saying that there's no possibility that jikook are in fact just close friends after all, but I think once you do see that underlying spark that makes one go "?" ,it's kind of hard to unsee it.

#jikook

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the-wisterian-lights · 4 months

Text

my yoonjin van helsing au is here!!

I did a thing!! I've finally posted my #yoonjin van helsing au a waltz with the devil by thewisterianlights https://archiveofourown.org/works/55915351/chapters/141987409

and thank god Pinterest had a few ideas for the moodboard. go check it out guys!! this bby aka my 1st bts fic will finally see the light of day sooooo excited for you all to read this

#yoonjin #bts #Kim seokjin #min yoongi #van helsing au #vampires #werewolves #vampire hunters #dracula #sin #suga #bts army #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts fanfiction

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theharrowing · 2 years

Text

This Sordid Place 📲 2: I would be an idiot to let you go so easily

Namjoon breaks down and installs Grindr after his friends complain he is “terminally single,” despite never really being into hook ups. Jungkook is an old pro at the hookup app.

Their connection is instant.

📲 Namjoon x Jungkook 📲 word count: 16.8k 📲 strangers to lovers, dating app au, smut, fluff, slash, nsfw, 18+ 📲 warnings: use of the word “slut” and "hoes" but not derogatorily; pining; flirting; smut (top Namjoon, bottom Jungkook; talk of switching; dirty talk; frotting and mutual masturbation; blow jobs - once semi-public; under the influence of alcohol; ass to mouth; spit as lube - but also lube; anal fingering; anal sex; praise; multiple orgasms; overstimulation; spanking; teasing and begging; a hint of cockwarming); side YoonJin with an appearance of Taehyung. 📲 written for the BTS Found Fest! 📲 thanks to @neoneunnajimin for beta reading! 📲 posted march 2023 | read on ao3

PREVIOUS | INDEX

Once Namjoon pulls up to the noodle spot, he begins to overthink everything. He worries that he should have worn something a little nicer than a plain black shirt, that he should have used a little makeup to accentuate his eyes, or put on a little lip balm. Worries upon worries swim around his mind, and he squeezes the steering wheel until his knuckles turn white.

But then he glances to his left, across the street from where he is parked, and he catches a glimpse of messy, wavy black hair, broad shoulders, and an oversized black tee. He is only somewhat certain that it is Jeongguk, but the assumption alone settles him, at least a little.

Namjoon opens his car door and instantly pulls it back, realizing he has extended it into traffic without looking out for cars. He sighs, checks his mirror to make sure the road is clear, then gets out and sprints across the street, hitting the button on his key fob to lock his doors.

He barely takes a moment to catch his breath before swinging the door open, turning to the man in the window, and feeling his breath hitch as they make eye contact.

The man is unmistakably Jeongguk, with his wide, pretty doe eyes and a sharp cupid’s bow. They stare at one another for only a moment, but it feels like the earth halts for them to catch up.

When Jeongguk finally blinks and shifts in his seat, Namjoon clears his throat, rubs a slightly clammy hand on his pants, then offers it to Jeongguk. Jeongguk takes Namjoon’s hand in both of his and stands awkwardly with the table in his way, bumping it with his thighs and causing bottles of oil and sauce to rattle.

“Jeongguk,” Namjoon mutters with a small smile.

“H-hi,” Jeongguk says softly, voice much sweeter than Namjoon imagined.

Their handshake lasts too long, both with eyes wide and trained on one another. When they finally release, Namjoon pulls out the chair in front of Jeongguk and has a seat, scooting in a little too harshly and knocking his knee into the underside of the table, rattling the bottles of oil and sauce once more. He chuckles, then Jeongguk quietly laughs as he sits back down, and the mood that hangs between them definitely feels a bit tense, but Namjoon does his best not to overthink it.

"Thanks for saving us a seat," Namjoon says as he grabs a menu from a small stack wedged between wooden utensil and napkin holders on the edge of the table. He glances down momentarily, then feels nervous that Jeongguk has not yet responded, so he looks up.

The expression on Jeongguk's face is adorable—eyes round and mouth agape with a pretty metal ring on the side of his lip. Namjoon chuckles and licks his lips, finding it hard to believe that this guy is picking up dudes left and right on a hookup app; he seems so shy.

"Is there something on my face?" Namjoon asks, hoping to break the tension.

Jeongguk blinks heavily and shakes his head in quick, small movements. "N-no," he clears his throat, "sorry."

The server comes shortly after, and they both order food and a bottle of soju to split. It doesn't take long for the soju to come, and Jeongguk shakes it up and begins to pour them cups, all the while, he is so quiet that Namjoon begins to worry that something is wrong. When Jeongguk hands Namjoon his cup and their fingers brush, red begins to creep up Jeongguk's neck, and he stares ahead at a fixed point on the table.

"Thank you," Namjoon says, gently holding the small cup with both hands. "What should we make a toast to?"

A shy smile creeps over Jeongguk's lips as he says, "Cheers to my Grindr date being hotter than I could have possibly imagined."

Now it is Namjoon's turn to blush as warmth covers his neck and cheeks. He must have a dumbfounded look on his face because Jeongguk begins to softly laugh.

"You're supposed to drink after someone has made a toast, Namjoon-ssi."

Namjoon scoffs at Jeongguk's formality. "Namjoon-ssi? Really?"

"What else do you want me to call you?" Jeongguk asks, raising an eyebrow, and Namjoon knows what he is thinking. Daddy. He thanks his lucky stars that Jeongguk seems too shy to say it aloud.

"Hyung is fine," Namjoon says with a raise of his own eyebrows, "assuming the 97 in your screen name is the year you were born.

Jeongguk smiles. "That is correct, hyung."

Realizing their glasses are still hovering in the air, Namjoon tilts his slightly forward.

"Cheers to my Grindr date also being hotter than I could have possibly imagined."

Jeongguk grins and takes his shot, turning his face to the side but holding eye contact with Namjoon, who also shoots back the chilled, bittersweet liquid. Suddenly, the air feels shifted, and Namjoon takes a deep, slow breath, trying to contain it in his lungs.

They make some small talk about their days. The food doesn’t take long to arrive, and Jeongguk eats like he has not eaten in weeks—slurps loudly with his eyebrows knit, barely taking time to breathe. Namjoon finds it adorable how, every time he bites into something particularly delicious, Jeongguk grimaces as if he is angry.

Namjoon is still eating by the time Jeongguk sets his bowl aside, and he nods his chin toward the empty dish.

“You really enjoyed it?”

Jeongguk smiles sheepishly and nods.

“I eat fast. S-sorry.”

This makes Namjoon chuckle and shake his head.

“Please don’t apologize. I'm glad you liked your food so much."

They hold eye contact for a moment, then Jeongguk breaks to pour more soju. Namjoon feels stunned by how easy it is to get lost in his eyes—as if Jeongguk has cast a spell on him. He definitely gets the appeal now, and would not be surprised if Jeongguk's tactic for picking people up is simply existing adorably and letting others gravitate naturally.

"So, Jeongguk," Namjoon starts as he gathers a bite of noodles onto his chopsticks, "you never told me what kind of modeling you do."

Jeongguk cracks a smirk, sets the soju bottle down, then slides Namjoon's cup toward him.

"My roommate is a photography student too, so I mostly model for him."

Namjoon has a mouthful of food, and he hums and nods his head to show he is interested, hoping that Jeongguk feels like providing more information without him having to ask. Luckily, he does.

"We have a friend who is trying to get into the fashion industry, so he sews clothing, I put them on, and Tae—my roommate—takes the photos."

His roommate Tae. Realization hits Namjoon like a bucket of ice water to the neck, and he nearly chokes on a noodle as he gasps. Luckily, the noodle does not make it far—just far enough to tickle the back of Namjoon's throat and cause him to cough. Jeongguk waits, appearing puzzled and a bit worried, and Namjoon takes a gulp of water before apologizing.

"Everything okay?" Jeongguk asks.

"Yeah," Namjoon responds with a rasp. "Just had a startling, terrible realization."

Jeongguk's mouth drops, and he looks even more worried. "What is it?"

"Your roommate Tae...is his name Taehyung?"

"Y-yeah," Jeongguk responds with widening eyes.

Namjoon can feel heat rise to his cheeks as he admits, "I think I was flirting with him over Grindr. And over text."

A gasp follows Jeongguk breaking out into a wide, pretty smile. "You slut!" he whispers loudly. "I thought you were only flirting with me!"

Namjoon scoffs and crosses his arms over his chest defensively.

"Please, as if you weren't flirting your way through the app? You told me point-blank that you were looking for a cutie to fuck. How many have you hooked up with since we started talking?"

The playfulness on Jeongguk's face dulls, and Namjoon wonders if he may have crossed a line.

"Not that it's any of your business, but one," he admits softly.

Namjoon smirks.

"How was he?"

Jeongguk shrugs.

"Fine."

The mood feels charged, and Namjoon wants to explore it more, but he worries about making Jeongguk uncomfortable. Luckily, Jeongguk begins to chuckle and shake his head, pulling out his phone.

"Why am I not surprised Tae pounced on you," Jeongguk mutters, then he holds his phone out, showing Namjoon a photo of him. The dark brown mop of curls, the boxy smile...that is definitely him.

"Yup," is all Namjoon can bring himself to say.

Jeongguk begins to laugh, throwing himself against the wooden bench with his head lolling back. His eyes are pulled into tight crescent moons, and his nose is scrunched—Namjoon thinks he is absolutely adorable.

"I'm going to tell him," Namjoon says, pulling out his phone.

"You're going to text another man during our date, wow!" Jeongguk accuses in a mocking tone before waving his hand in the air and asking the waiter for two more bottles of Soju.

"Two more?" Namjoon asks with wide eyes, glancing up from his screen.

There is a mischievous glint in Jeongguk's gaze that gives Namjoon a chill and makes him smile. Shy Jeongguk is slowly becoming a demon in front of his very eyes, and he cannot deny how excited the possibility makes him feel.

After the two bottles of soju, Namjoon and Jeongguk leave the restaurant for a nearby bar. He convinces Namjoon in part because it is a place where he can leave his car overnight, and because it happens to be within walking distance to Jeongguk's place, should he get too drunk to drive.

"Your crush TaeTae won't be home until tomorrow, so you can crash in his room if you need to," Jeongguk teases with a wiggle of his eyebrows as Namjoon turns the ignition off and checks his mirror before exiting the car.

"Ooh," Namjoon—who is probably too tipsy to have just driven—says as he gets out of the car. He leans his elbows on the roof, and as Jeongguk's head pops into view, he asks, "Is his bed nice? Will I like it there?"

Jeongguk tongues the inside of his cheek, then says, "Yeah, it's fine. But mine is nicer."

"Oh?" Namjoon continues as Jeongguk closes his door, rounds the hood of the car, and approaches.

Jeongguk hums in response, and leans toward Namjoon as he says, "Too bad you're a prude and will never find out."

The laugh that shakes through Namjoon as they begin for the bar is far more boisterous than he had intended.

"I thought I was a slut? Now I'm a prude?"

Jeongguk shrugs as he reaches for the door, pulling it open and holding it for Namjoon to enter.

"Not my fault you contain multitudes, daddy."

And there it is, that word, laced with something dark and playful. Namjoon raises an eyebrow at Jeongguk, then enters the dimly lit bar before the blush that rises quickly to his cheeks can be detected in all its glory.

Namjoon has never considered having a daddy kink before meeting Jeongguk. In fact, the whole thing has always felt silly to him. But, hearing the word roll off Jeongguk's tongue, mixing with all the already rapidly swirling thoughts and feelings that vibrate through him, he thinks he wants to hear it again and again.

The bar is small—a rectangle with a counter on one half and booths on the other. Stained glass lamps with popular beer brands hang from the ceiling, giving the place a sometimes red, sometimes green glow, and everything is scratched up hardwood and cracked black leather. Some loud, upbeat music plays, something Namjoon might classify as punk, but he is not entirely sure.

"What'll it be, baby boy?" Namjoon asks, leaning back as he approaches the bar two steps ahead of Jeongguk, turning his head just enough so the other will hear him.

Jeongguk closes the gap between them and says, directly into Namjoon's ear, "Gin and soda. Thanks, daddy."

Biting back a smirk and hoping that his giddiness is not too palpable, Namjoon leans over the bar and asks the waiting tender for two gin and sodas, then fishes for his card to open the tab. A glance over his shoulder shows Jeongguk has chosen a booth just behind him, and Namjoon instinctively arches his back a little, popping his ass out as he reaches over the counter to hand the bartender his card with a polite, "Thanks."

As he turns back to Jeongguk, Namjoon finds himself stunned in a moment of disbelief. Jeongguk is so handsome and so charming that it actually takes his breath away. The shyness—which has all but disappeared after some alcohol has hit his system—only makes him more intriguing and adorable.

Namjoon sets the drinks down, one close to Jeongguk, and slides into the booth across from him. Jeongguk has his eyes on his phone, but shuts the screen off and pockets it, giving Namjoon his attention.

"Flirting with other cuties?" Namjoon teases.

Jeongguk raises an eyebrow and leans forward, elbows on the table as he asks, "Would you be jealous if I were?"

Although Namjoon thinks he might be disheartened to find out Jeongguk's attention was on someone else during their date, he really has no authority to tell him not to talk to other people, and he shrugs.

"Not really. I mean...I prefer if you didn't, but if I'm boring you enough to make you want to seek the company of others, then you should be free to roam as you please."

Embarrassment creeps up Namjoon's neck, and he wonders why he said any of that—worried he sounded like a weirdo. Free to roam as you please? What does he think Jeongguk is, a wild buffalo?

Jeongguk licks his lips and smirks.

"I would be."

Namjoon watches the movement—watches Jeongguk's tongue dart out and flick his lip ring.

"What?"

"Jealous."

"Oh?" Namjoon asks, somewhat taken aback.

Jeongguk hums and picks up his drink, bringing it to his lips while his eyes study Namjoon.

"I don't want you thinking about anyone else when you're with me. I want you all to myself."

"What if I'm boring?" Namjoon asks.

Jeongguk takes a sip of his drink, then says, "You're not."

Namjoon has a drink, too—lets the sour, piney gin coat his tongue, then sets his glass down.

"What if I'm a bad kisser? Or bad in bed?"

This makes Jeongguk chuckle and glance down before looking back into Namjoon's eyes. There is a dark curiosity that swims in Jeongguk's gaze, and Namjoon wants to dive in head-first.

"Are you?"

Namjoon shrugs.

"I could be."

"I doubt it. But I guess I'll just have to find out, won't I?"

Suddenly, Namjoon is acutely aware of his surroundings. The cold, dampness of his glass, the music playing overhead, which seems louder than moments ago. Everything feels like too much and not enough, all at once.

And his mouth. Sharp, pointed cupid's bow with a pretty metal ring hugging a soft, full bottom lip, leading Namjoon's attention continuously to it, especially when Jeongguk is so confidently talking about wanting to find out how he kisses and how he may be in bed. He wonders if this is why someone must get such a piercing—to draw attention to their lips. He wonders what it might taste like and if Jeongguk would like him to play with it, with his tongue.

"Perhaps you will find out," Namjoon says as he raises his glass to his mouth with a smile.

"Unless Taehyung beats me to it," Jeongguk teases as he takes a drink, and Namjoon nearly sprays his beverage through his nose.

Spending time with Jeongguk is easy, and Namjoon cannot help but smile at everything he says and does. Taehyung has also joined in on the fun, picking on Namjoon over text after he confessed to him what happened.

Taehyung Guess that means our date is called off. :(

Namjoon We'll see...Jeongguk has yet to make a move.

Taehyung Ah, so you're saying there may be hope for me, yet? :D

By the time they decide to call it a night, it is late, and they are drunk. Not unreasonably drunk, but too drunk for Namjoon to drive home.

"My plan worked," Jeongguk says with a smile as he wraps his arm around Namjoon's waist and steers him down the sidewalk, away from the bar. Namjoon likes being this close to Jeongguk—likes the faint hint of musky, sweet cologne that he picks up.

"Your plan to get me drunk and have me sleep in your roommate's bed?" Namjoon asks, leaning a bit more into Jeongguk, causing him to stumble a few steps ahead.

Jeongguk hums and squeezes Namjoon's hip.

"Wow," Namjoon responds with a grin. "Here, I thought chivalry was dead."

They only walk two and a half blocks before they are entering an apartment building, and Namjoon glances around at the street. He is not too familiar with this particular area, but the bars he tends to frequent are not too far away. Jeongguk was definitely not lying the other night when he said the app placed them in a fairly close vicinity.

Although he is tired, Namjoon is not sure he is ready to go to bed. Spending time with Jeongguk has been so much fun, and he definitely does not want to stop. But, he also has not been with anyone sexually in quite some time, and he worries about being able to please someone who seems to hook up with others often. Namjoon does not want to feel insecurity or shame, or any of those hard feelings while spending time with someone as radiant as Jeongguk, but it is hard not to.

They walk up three flights of steps, then down a short hallway, all with Jeongguk's arm wrapped tightly around Namjoon's waist. And, while Namjoon cannot deny that they have great chemistry, the closer they get to Jeongguk's place, the more his nerves begin to kick in.

Once Jeongguk pushes the door to his apartment open, he finally lets go of Namjoon, and leans against the wall to take off his black sneakers, and Namjoon closes the door behind him and leans against it to pull off his black boots. It is silly, Namjoon thinks, how worried he was about being dressed down since Jeongguk showed up in an oversized black tee, baggy black jeans, and casual shoes, looking just as amazing as if he had bothered to dress up.

Jeongguk motions for Namjoon to have a seat on the couch, and he walks through the room and flicks on a lamp, then rounds a corner. The sound of a cabinet opening and the sink running is heard before Jeongguk returns with a glass of water and sits beside Namjoon.

The apartment is small, and very much the home of two photography students. There are books, photographs, and paintings all over, along with several sad-looking plants, and a pile of fabric that faintly resembles articles of clothing draped over what Namjoon can only assume is an armchair. The space is cluttered but organized in its own way, which he appreciates.

"So," Jeongguk says as he angles his body toward Namjoon, cradling the water in his fingers. "We could watch something. Or make out for a while. Or both?"

Namjoon is nervous as hell, but he cannot stop himself from saying, "Making out sounds good," causing Jeongguk to grin.

Jeongguk sets down the glass of water and scoots closer, and Namjoon angles his body in Jeongguk's direction, though he is not sure how it will work sitting side by side on the couch.

"Come here," Jeongguk mutters as he leans closer, and Namjoon places a hand on the cushion, leaning to meet him halfway.

"I haven't done this in a while," Namjoon confesses as he closes the gap between them.

"I got you, don't worry," Jeongguk mutters as his lips faintly bush over Namjoon's.

Just the tiniest touch sends a shiver down Namjoon's spine—has the air caught in his lungs—and he leans in just a bit more to fully slot their lips together. Namjoon cannot help but groan at the slightly sweet taste of Jeongguk's mouth and the hint of cold metal, and he raises his free hand to Jeongguk's cheek, cupping it gently to hold him closer.

Jeongguk licks over Namjoon's bottom lip and sucks it into his mouth. The sparks that fly through Namjoon's body cause him to gasp and for his hand to slide down until just his fingertips rest on Jeongguk's clavicle. As Jeongguk sucks a little harder, Namjoon lets out a whimper that he is not all too proud of, feeling extra mortified when Jeongguk releases his lip with a pop and lets out a sweet giggle.

"Wow," Jeongguk whispers, pressing his forehead against Namjoon's.

From this close, all Namjoon can see are two big, dark eyes and the tips of their noses touching.

"Wow?"

"I like the way your lips feel," Jeongguk says as he slowly moves his head side-to-side, rubbing their noses together. "And I like the sweet little noises you make." He licks at Namjoon's lips, giggling as Namjoon begins to tilt forward, searching for a kiss. "I bet you taste just as sweet."

Namjoon feels as intoxicated from desire as he does from all the alcohol.

"Oh?"

Jeongguk nods and leans in for another kiss, this time putting his hands on Namjoon's shoulders and pressing into him. Namjoon angles his body, resting back somewhat against the arm of the couch and the backrest—wedged in the corner—as Jeongguk follows, sucking Namjoon's lip into his mouth once more as he begins to crawl into his lap.

Namjoon attempts to reach out and grab onto him, brushing his palms over Jeongguk's thighs before finding his waist, and Jeongguk chuckles as he settles down. He feels heavier than Namjoon expected, until he remembers all the gym selfies—Jeongguk works out; he is buff under all of these baggy clothes.

Being beneath Jeongguk feels nice—warm and secure. As Jeongguk licks the crease of Namjoon's lips, Namjoon melts beneath him, sinking into the corner of the couch despite being angled awkwardly. He parts his lips, and Jeongguk wastes no time skimming their tongues over one another. Both men groan, and Namjoon slides one hand from Jeongguk's waist to his back.

"You can touch me," Jeongguk mutters against Namjoon's lips.

Namjoon hums—a questioning sound—unsure exactly what Jeongguk means; he is touching him.

"Under my shirt," Jeongguk clarifies. "Or we can move this to my room."

Between every other word, Jeongguk licks into Namjoon's mouth or sucks on his lip, and Namjoon feels too foggy to have a conversation this way, so he tilts his chin down to catch his breath and clear his head.

Moving to Jeongguk's room would be nice, but he is not quite sure hooking up is in the cards, and he is definitely not sure how persuasive Jeongguk may be. Not that Namjoon thinks Jeongguk would struggle to take no for an answer—he absolutely does not worry the man would pressure him to do something he does not want to do.

"Are you sure that's wise?" Namjoon asks, inwardly cringing from how much of an old man he sounds.

Jeongguk's eyes widen, and he tilts his head, showing Namjoon his pouty lips. "You don't trust me?"

"It's not—I—"

"Or you don't trust yourself?"

Namjoon scoffs. If there is one thing he is almost certain about, it is his own resolve. Jeongguk may be a babe, but Namjoon has resisted the charms of many people in his day, and this one hot man is not going to test his willpower.

"Did you just scoff at me?" Jeongguk asks, sitting back and looking affronted. There is still a hint of playfulness in his gaze, but Namjoon feels a tiny tinge of guilt pang in his ribs.

"Jeongguk—"

"Call me baby boy."

Namjoon can not hold back a smile.

"Baby boy," he says slowly, pausing dramatically. "You are breathtaking...gorgeous...fun to kiss..."

"But?"

"But," Namjoon lets his lips fall into a wide, genuine smile as Jeongguk's pout deepens. "But, I have denying people down to an art. And, as strong as my attraction to you is...my willpower is stronger."

At this, Jeongguk playfully sneers, and Namjoon's mouth falls open.

"You think so?" Jeongguk asks, still on Namjoon's legs, which are beginning to ache with him sitting up and putting most of his weight directly onto them.

Namjoon shrugs, attempting nonchalance. "Sorry, baby. I know so."

Jeongguk shakes his head, rolls his eyes, and gathers the bottom of his shirt with both hands. In a swift movement, he is shirtless, his hair is wild, framing his face in loose waves, and Namjoon is speechless. Mirror selfies at the gym posted to Grindr do not do him justice. In fact, Namjoon wonders if they might be older photos; Jeongguk looks way more ripped.

In addition to the lean, cut muscle that Namjoon cannot tear his eyes from, he also has an unobstructed view of Jeongguk's tattoos—a full sleeve of dark shadows and vibrant colors.

"How's that willpower of yours, daddy?" Jeongguk chides.

Namjoon swallows the saliva that has pooled beneath his tongue, blinks heavily, and forces himself to meet Jeongguk's eye.

"F-fine."

"Fine?" Jeongguk asks, leaning in close.

Namjoon sinks back against the couch, nodding as he lets out a very unconvincing, "Uh-huh."

"You have no desire to touch me?" Jeongguk asks, snaking his arms around Namjoon's neck.

"W-why ever would I desire to do such a thing?" Namjoon stammers senselessly, gazing between Jeongguk's eyes and lips.

Jeongguk smiles as he flicks his tongue over Namjoon's gaping mouth.

"You are a terrible liar, daddy," he teases as Namjoon loses his composure as steals his lips, eager for one more kiss.

This time, rather than a brief exploration, Namjoon opens his mouth, and Jeongguk licks inside, groaning as he twists his tongue over Namjoon's tongue and pushes his fingers into Namjoon's hair.

This time, Namjoon does touch. With one hand, Namjoon places his palm against Jeongguk's hip—holds him loosely with his fingers splayed open. With the other, he reaches for Jeongguk's shoulder and slowly lets his hand glide down, over Jeongguk's pec, and up, rubbing his nipple with his palm. This is a surefire way to break down every ounce of his own resolve, but Namjoon cannot help himself. His rule is arbitrary, anyway.

Jeongguk sucks Namjoon's lip again, pulling a groan from his throat before releasing him to sink helplessly, further into the couch.

"Your willpower excuses groping?" Jeongguk asks playfully, then nips at Namjoon's lip.

Namjoon groans weakly. "You're too enticing, baby boy."

"I think the term you're looking for is dangerously pretty," Jeongguk teases, making Namjoon let out another embarrassing sound.

Jeongguk's hands return to Namjoon's shoulders and rub first over his biceps, then down to his pecs.

"You've been teasing me with this tight shirt all night, daddy," he pouts. "I want to see you."

If Namjoon were a stronger man, he would not let the pout of a buff man have such an effect on him. But, as it turns out, Namjoon is weak. He is beginning to think the only reason his willpower was strong in the past was that he was not sitting directly beneath any of his potential suitors with their very muscular breasts in his face.

Namjoon struggles to untuck his shirt, but after some effort, he manages. Jeongguk eagerly assists, pulling the fabric up, over Namjoon's head before tossing it aside, then he lets out a gasp, muttering, "Damn," under his breath. It takes no time at all for Jeongguk to ask Namjoon for permission to touch and—once given a nod—to begin groping his chest and arms.

"Is this how you woo all of the cuties you bring home?" Namjoon asks with a smirk, delighting in being felt up by someone so pretty.

Jeongguk chuckles, meeting Namjoon's eye with a dangerous glint in his.

"Nah, if you were one of my typical dates, I would be fucking you by now."

A chill quakes through Namjoon. He should know by now—half-naked with kiss-slick lips, after spending a date with someone he met on Grindr—that Jeongguk is likely to be very forward and brash. Still, he cannot help how his breath hitches at the thought.

"You would be fucking me, hmm?" Namjoon asks with a tilt of his head, attempting to play it cool.

Jeongguk has the audacity to shrug and appear unaffected.

"Or you can fuck me. I'm open to anything."

It is dangerous—Namjoon knows it is dangerous—and he knows that he should not continue this line of conversation if he wants to attempt to not hook up on the first date. But Jeongguk is heavy and warm on his lap, and traces of him are still on his lips and tongue. He wants Jeongguk, despite wanting to take things a bit slower. He wants him badly, and he wants to make it known.

"I would like that," Namjoon says, running his hands over the cotton-polyester blend covering Jeongguk's thighs and around to gently grab his ass.

"What, exactly," Jeongguk asks, and Namjoon does not miss the way his voice trembles.

Namjoon leans in close, inches from Jeongguk's lips as he says, "To fuck you."

Jeongguk gasps and rolls his hips down against Namjoon's lap. Namjoon is half-hard beneath his slacks, and although the angle of Jeongguk's movement does not directly cause friction, the feeling of his body teasing him has Namjoon struggling to exhale.

"N-not tonight, I mean," Namjoon fumbles to clarify.

"But soon?" Jeongguk asks, voice lilting prettily at the end, pleadingly.

Namjoon nods in short, frantic movements as his palms rub up and down Jeongguk's muscular back.

"Yeah. Soon."

Jeongguk hums and leaves Namjoon's lap, scooting back until he is sitting on the couch, and Namjoon—desperate to keep touching—follows Jeongguk, leaning toward him so that his hands never leave the warmth of his soft skin. Jeongguk grabs onto Namjoon's wrists and tugs him, causing him to get onto his knees and straddle Jeongguk, who begins to lay back.

"How would you want me?" the devil incarnate asks as he lies down and pulls Namjoon forward to settle between his parting thighs. "On my back? Or on my stomach?"

Namjoon has no doubt that Jeongguk's ass is a sight to behold—if the rest of his sculpted body is anything to go by—but he imagines the expression on Jeongguk's face when he is breathless and full must be absolutely astounding. He crawls between Jeongguk's legs, caging his head in with his arms as he settles over him.

"On your back."

This pleases Jeongguk, who groans as he wraps his legs around Namjoon's ass and pulls him close, down for a kiss. Namjoon's cock is completely hard as it rubs against Jeongguk—his slacks just thin enough to feel ridges of coarse denim. A shaky gasp leaves Namjoon's lips, which Jeongguk swallows whole as their kiss deepens—Jeongguk having full control.

"What if we—" Jeongguk begins, then stops, lips pressed against Namjoon's mouth. He goes in for another kiss, but Namjoon wants to hear his thoughts, so he trails his lips down Jeongguk's chin and jaw instead, listening for hints that Jeongguk likes how it feels. When Namjoon reaches Jeongguk's neck—just below his ear—his back arches as he whimpers, so Namjoon doubles down, kissing and licking the area more.

"What if we what, baby boy?" Namjoon asks as he nips at the spit-slicked skin.

Jeongguk moans soft pretty sounds that echo in the otherwise quiet room.

"What if we—ah—jerked off together."

This is a new one, Namjoon thinks. Nobody has ever recommended mutual masturbation before, and considering how soon they just met, Namjoon is surprised Jeongguk is not too shy for something like that.

"Please, daddy," Jeongguk whimpers, and Namjoon groans from the sound, then anchors himself on his hands enough to hover over Jeongguk and look him in the eye.

"How do you want to do it?"

"Really?" Jeongguk asks, eyes wide and surprised.

Namjoon chuckles, intrigued.

"Well, I am pretty fucking hard, and it would be nice to get some relief."

Jeongguk nods emphatically and places his hands on Namjoon's chest to push him up and off of him. Namjoon struggles to get on his feet, feeling dizzy from being pulled and pushed around, and he reaches out for Jeongguk, chuckling as he seems equally affected and stumbles into him.

"Come on," Jeongguk says, taking Namjoon's hand. "Let's go to my room."

Although Namjoon already misses Jeongguk's lips, there is a chaos to the way things are arranged throughout the apartment, and he resists the urge to attempt to kiss while walking, lest he knock something over. Jeongguk leads him by the hand through a living room, into a small hallway with three doors, and Namjoon wonders if he will only see one of the rooms tonight—if he will not be taking Taehyung's bed, after all. Although the whole situation is fairly funny, Namjoon thinks it may be better that he stays with Jeongguk, anyway.

Jeongguk flips a switch on the wall, but the bulb glows dim and purple, casting only enough light for them to see where they are going. His room is much tidier than the common space, and Namjoon has a very fleeting curiosity about what Taehyung's room must look like, but it is washed away by the warm press of Jeongguk's lips against his.

Gasps, low groans, and wet lips smacking together fill Namjoon's ears, and he reaches both hands to tug Jeongguk closer, but Jeongguk resists and, instead, pulls him toward the bed. Then, Jeongguk begins to work Namjoon's belt open while his kisses become needy.

"Is this okay?" Jeongguk pants into Namjoon's mouth, and Namjoon responds with a deep, "Mmhmm, yeah."

Namjoon reaches for Jeongguk's fly, flicking it open with just his thumb and index finger, then slowly pulls down the zipper. Jeongguk's movements are much more sloppy and rushed, making Namjoon gasp and smirk from the feeling of fingers grazing over his cock.

"Want me that badly, baby boy?" Namjoon teases as he pushes his hands into the sides of Jeongguk's oversized jeans and gropes at his hips and the sides of his ass.

Just this little touch alone has confirmed something that Namjoon has been terrified of—and is elated to discover, in equal measures—which is that Jeongguk is just as ripped below the belt, after all.

Jeongguk moans into Namjoon's mouth as Namjoon snakes his hands further back and properly grabs onto his ass—round and perky and soft; an absolute dream. Meanwhile, Jeongguk's hands make quick work shoving Namjoon's pants down and pawing at the waistband of his briefs.

The kiss breaks, and Jeongguk looks down at Namjoon, whose slacks are around his knees, leaving him in tight, dark blue briefs, and he gasps.

"You're—you're so—oh, fuck."

"Cat got your tongue, baby boy?" Namjoon teases as he pulls his hands from Jeongguk's pants and begins to shove the denim down.

"I could tell you would have a big dick, but this—"

Namjoon blushes.

"Stop."

"I want to choke on you so bad," Jeongguk whines. "Please, daddy?"

From what Namjoon can glean, Jeongguk's package is impressive, as well, and he licks his lips at the thought of seeing it without the layer of soft black fabric in the way. But that will have to wait, it seems.

Jeongguk must take Namjoon's silence as a not-no, and he pushes his own jeans down to his ankles and sinks down to his knees. Namjoon's breath hitches at the sight of dangerously pretty Jeongguk kneeling before him, staring up at him through his lashes.

"Please," Jeongguk tries again.

Namjoon nods his head in a daze, and mutters, "Yeah. Yeah, okay."

With the most devious grin Namjoon has ever seen, Jeongguk rubs his thumb over his clothed cock, sending a violent wave of arousal crashing through him, making him shiver. Pleased with himself, Jeongguk leans forward and exhales over Namjoon's bulge, covering him in warmth as he nudges the tip of his nose against him.

"Such a tease," Namjoon whines, though he does not mind; he loves the build-up—loves being pushed to the point of madness by desire.

"Want you out of these," Jeongguk mutters as he shoves Namjoon's slacks lower.

Namjoon makes a haphazard attempt at stepping from each leg, and Jeongguk gathers the garment and tosses it aside.

"These too," Jeongguk says as he slides his palms over Namjoon's thighs and gathers the waistband of his briefs with his fingertips before tugging them down.

Namjoon feels a bit awkward and exposed, standing before someone as his last shred of clothing is being removed. He is distracted from his anxiety, however, when Jeongguk mutters something unintelligible under his breath as he becomes increasingly more eager to remove Namjoon's briefs.

"Yes, baby boy?" Namjoon asks with a light chuckle.

Jeongguk shoves the briefs to Namjoon's feet, and Namjoon steps out of them as Jeongguk takes his cock in his hands and sits up high on his knees, slowly stroking his length with his mouth open and his tongue hanging out. It feels good, and Jeongguk looks like pure heaven.

Before Namjoon has the chance to fully process what is happening, Jeongguk's lips are around his length, and he is sucking so eagerly, Namjoon's knees buckle, causing him to grab onto Jeongguk's head for stability.

"Holy fuck," Namjoon groans as he widens his stance and attempts to keep himself from toppling over.

Jeongguk takes him deep into his throat, slurping loudly and humming as he sucks, creating a lewd euphony of sound that has Namjoon's head absolutely spinning. This is certainly not what he expected to happen when he walked into this room, but he cannot say he minds.

With a pleased moan, Jeongguk pulls off Namjoon's dick, holding his mouth open wide with spit hanging from his lips to Namjoon's tip. He looks absolutely sinful, staring up with tears dotting his eyelashes, and he smiles.

"You're too big. Almost made me gag."

"You said you wanted to choke," Namjoon teases, making Jeongguk pout.

"It's a figure of speech."

Namjoon pushes a dark brown wave behind Jeongguk's ear, feeling a swell of affection and intense arousal.

"You did so well, baby boy. You feel amazing."

Jeongguk strokes Namjoon's length, twisting his palm over the head, and giggles when a tremble of pleasure visibly quakes through him. Then, he stands and gently tugs Namjoon by the dick toward his bed.

"Come on, I want to rub our cocks together."

Jeongguk's candor makes Namjoon laugh, and he stumbles forward, watching as Jeongguk reaches the edge of his mattress and shoves at his briefs. A very pretty, long cock springs out, and Namjoon licks his lips.

"You want to—to what?" he asks, in a daze as Jeongguk's words finally catch up to him.

Jeongguk chuckles and sits, then scoots to the center of the bed and pats the black comforter. "Grab the lube and come here."

On the bedside table is a bottle of lube, and Namjoon grabs it as he gets onto the bed, crawling on his knees to Jeongguk, who slowly strokes his own cock while on his back, but angled slightly on one hip.

"Come here," Jeongguk says again, this time with his voice much lower and inviting.

Namjoon sets the plastic bottle down on the comforter and leans forward, slotting his lips with Jeongguk's and groaning from how soft and sweet and pleasantly familiar they are. Jeongguk drapes an arm around Namjoon and pulls him close, and Namjoon feels a warm hand wrap around his hard length, making him groan.

"Lube," Jeongguk says against Namjoon's lips, and Namjoon pats the comforter with his hand several times until he finds the bottle and hands it over.

Jeongguk flips the cap open and squirts it directly onto their dicks, making both of them hiss, and Namjoon practically jumps out of his skin from how cold it is. A devious chuckle comes from Jeongguk, and Namjoon gently bites down on his bottom lip, making him whine. He almost scolds him for being such a brat, but then Jeongguk rubs the lube over his length and thrusts himself against him, making Namjoon practically black out from pleasure.

Namjoon attempts to situate himself better, wrapping his arm under Jeongguk's neck and resting it against a small pile of pillows. He props himself on his elbow so he can angle his hips while laying on his side, giving Jeongguk access to thrust against him. Then he grabs the bases of both their cocks, feeling them slide against his palm as he slowly begins to rut his hips in rhythm, forward when Jeongguk pulls back and backward when Jeongguk thrusts forward.

"Wow," Jeongguk groans, lolling his head back. "I wasn't sure this would work but it feels amazing."

Namjoon leans forward and gently sucks at Jeongguk's jaw and throat, eager for more pretty sounds, which he receives in the form of whimpers.

"Yeah? You like this, baby boy?"

The way Jeongguk's entire body trembles in response tells Namjoon all he needs to know, but he still revels in Jeongguk whimpering, "Yes, daddy."

Of all the things Namjoon anticipated might happen when he walked into this apartment drunk tonight, this was not on the list. Namjoon does not even know what the word for this is. Mutually masturbating with both cocks touching—wet and warm and heavenly—while Jeongguk continues calling him that ridiculous nickname that spurs something inside him to want to take charge and make Jeongguk whine.

Jeongguk wraps his hand around Namjoon's tip and gently twists it as he strokes, and Namjoon chases the feeling, upstroking into his palm and using his hand to glide over Jeongguk's length. The sounds that leave Jeongguk's mouth—deep and low, punctuated with pretty, pitchy whines—are heaven, and Namjoon nuzzles against Jeongguk's neck, moaning lowly as he nips at his soft skin.

"Fuck, I wish I had this cock inside me," Jeongguk whines, sending a shiver down Namjoon's spine. "I bet you would fuck me so good, wouldn't you, daddy?"

"I would," Namjoon groans, feeling dizzy with pleasure. "Fuck, I would."

Namjoon almost cracks. He almost says to hell with it and rolls Jeongguk onto his stomach to stretch him on his fingers and turn him into a whimpering, begging mess. But, he still feels kind of drunk—not too drunk to be doing what they are doing, but perhaps too drunk to navigate fucking someone for the first time. He wants it to be perfect, or at least, he wants it to be good.

And anyway, Jeongguk is trembling and thrusting and completely losing control, moaning as his back begins to bow and his legs push and pull along the comforter. He is definitely close.

"Want to cum watching you jerk off," Jeongguk whines, releasing Namjoon's dick and scooting away a few inches.

Namjoon stays where he is, a bit dazed by the request and disappointed that the warmth of Jeongguk's body is leaving. But he strokes himself in long, steady movements, getting closer and closer to climax. Jeongguk's eyes on him make him feel a hint of shyness—never has someone requested to watch him jerk off before—and he lets his gaze fall to Jeongguk's chest, abs, and cock.

"Fuck," Namjoon moans as he watches Jeongguk's hand stroke his length. He looks good, and Namjoon wants to have that cock in his hand as he fucks Jeongguk into the mattress. "Moan for me, baby boy. I want to hear you."

Jeongguk complies, rubbing a hand over his pec while he fucks into his fist, making deep, lewd sounds of bliss. Namjoon plummets toward orgasm, rolling fully onto his back as he moans lowly.

"That's it, baby. Fuck, you sound so good. Gonna make me cum."

Any ounce of shame that Namjoon may have felt about this scenario diminishes the moment Jeongguk's mouth falls open, and he whines, "Please, daddy, please cum for me."

Namjoon's hot, sticky release spurts onto his fist and stomach—orgasm rocking blissfully through him—and he slowly squeezes the head of his cock, pulling the last droplets of cum while pleasure trembles through his limbs.

"Holy f—" Jeongguk mutters, then drops his head back, moaning loudly.

"That's it, baby boy; let me see you cum," Namjoon instructs with a low, fucked out voice.

All Jeongguk manages is a weak, unintelligible utterance of sounds before he is also painting himself with his release. Namjoon fights the urge to bend and lick some of it from him—would likely do so if his own mess wasn't cooling to his skin and threatening to drip onto the comforter.

Jeongguk sinks back, letting his clean hand drop to the side while he stares at the ceiling wide-eyed, panting. He looks like he has a lot on his mind, and Namjoon waits for him to say anything before insisting on cleaning himself up. Although this was Jeongguk's idea in the first place, he worries about saying or doing something to freak the guy out.

Luckily, Jeongguk finally turns to Namjoon with a lazy smile and says, "You are absolutely insane."

"I am?" Namjoon balks, feeling how cold his jizz is becoming on his skin. "You were the one who suggested this."

Jeongguk sits up, nods to the bedside table, and says, "There are tissues in the drawer."

With a groan, Namjoon does his best to maneuver himself, holding his soiled hand over his stomach to minimize mess while swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, causing cum to drip down his abdominals. With his clean hand, he reaches for a small drawer on the wooden bedside table, pulling it open to reveal a rectangular box of tissues and a pile of condoms.

Namjoon pulls out two tissues for himself, then removes the entire box, shouts, "Incoming!" and chucks it gently over his shoulder. The sound of the box hitting Jeongguk and falling to the bed has Namjoon chuckling while he wipes himself off, then he feels the cardboard slam into his back, making him laugh some more.

"Not funny!" Jeongguk complains, but when Namjoon twists around, he is also laughing.

Suddenly, there is a lightness between them, despite a bit of tension that simmers along the edges.

Suddenly, the air feels cooler and less charged, despite Namjoon having no idea what comes next.

Suddenly, he feels substantially more sober than he had when they got to Jeongguk's place, despite considerably little time passing since.

"So," he says, attempting to break the ice. "Now what?"

Jeongguk bunches up his tissues in one hand, gets onto his knees, and begins to crawl toward Namjoon. He hooks his chin over Namjoon's shoulder, and asks, "What do you mean?"

For some inexplicable reason—or, perhaps for the very understandable reason of such a pretty man being so close—Namjoon feels nervous.

"Uh—I mean, am I still sleeping in Tae's room?"

Jeongguk wraps his arms around Namjoon's shoulders and yanks onto him until he is falling backward, onto Jeongguk's legs.

"Do you want to sleep in Tae's room?" he asks, but he bends down and slots their lips together too fast for him to answer, lazily licking against his tongue.

"No," Namjoon mutters the moment their lips part, gazing up into Jeongguk's pretty eyes.

"Then don't," Jeongguk says, grabbing the spent tissues from Namjoon's hands and tossing them to the floor. Namjoon wants to remark on how gross it is, but he truly cannot care about anything else as Jeongguk closes the gap between their lips once more.

They continue to kiss in this awkward position until Namjoon's lips are tingly and swollen, then they change position, get under the covers, and continue to kiss and smile and mutter sweet nothings until they fall asleep naked with their limbs tangled together.

Namjoon wakes up covered in sweat and a bit confused. He is no stranger to sweating in his sleep, but he feels hot. Hotter than usual. He also does not feel like he is under his favorite forest green blanket, and when he cracks an eye open, his suspicions are confirmed.

Everything comes pouring back. Jeongguk, the drinking, the flirting, the jerking off in tandem and grinding their dicks together. In the slightly hungover haze of Namjoon's mind, he feels equal parts embarrassed and excited.

Jeongguk stirs beside him and turns, cracking one of his eyes open, as well. "You sweat a lot," he complains, and Namjoon chuckles.

"That I do."

"I have the urge to lick it, but it probably just tastes like salt," Jeongguk mumbles, turning to wrap a warm arm and leg over Namjoon's already very warm body.

He would protest, but Jeongguk does not seem to mind, and it feels nice to be held onto. So, he lets Jeongguk nuzzle up beside him, sticky and warm, and holding on tight.

"We should get up before Tae is home," Jeongguk says with his lips pressed into Namjoon's shoulder.

"Oh?"

Jeongguk hums.

"He doesn't have a lot of boundaries when it comes to open doors, and we never shut mine."

Jeongguk's bedroom door is, in fact, still open, albeit just a crack. And, as if on cue, the door to the apartment opens, and Namjoon hears the sound of keys hitting a hard surface, followed by a surprisingly deep voice calling into the room.

"Ggukie, are you in there?"

"Don't come in!" Jeongguk grumbles in an attempted shout, but it is too late.

Namjoon turns his head to find a dark tuft of hair sticking into the room, and Taehyung's face brightens with excitement as he gasps, staring with wide eyes and a wider smile.

"Bonsai father, we meet at last."

Namjoon chuckles and warmth rises to his cheeks; he feels exposed despite being under a thick comforter.

"TaeTae, hello," Namjoon responds.

Jeongguk groans and squeezes Namjoon with his limbs in a tight full-body hug before sitting up.

"I already claimed him. He's mine. Be gone!"

Taehyung chuckles. "Awe, come on Ggukie, didn't your parents teach you to share?"

Jeongguk lifts a pillow and chucks it at the door, sending it flying. Taehyung's face disappears, only to reappear once the pillow has made impact and fallen to the floor.

"I'll make you some breakfast," Taehyung offers, "Joon, baby, how do you like your eggs?"

Namjoon hesitates, then Jeongguk mutters, "He's a decent cook, we can accept his offer," so he informs Taehyung that however he and Jeongguk usually have their eggs is fine with him.

"Three omelets, coming right up!" Taehyung sing-songs, as he leaves the room without closing the door.

"Thank you for staking your claim on me," Namjoon says once Taehyung is gone, turning to smile at Jeongguk.

With a shrug, Jeongguk says, "If he wants you, he'll try anyway," and Namjoon laughs, choosing to leave it at that.

Jeongguk finds Namjoon a toothbrush once they manage to get dressed, which is a relief, because Namjoon was feeling self-conscious about how close Jeongguk—who is surprisingly flirtatious first thing in the morning—was getting to his face.

Breakfast is surprisingly chill; Namjoon had expected the dramatics to last, but once they were dressed—Namjoon in one of Jeongguk's plain black t-shirts, and a pair of black joggers—and seated at the small dining table, everyone falls into conversation about how their week was, joking about Namjoon being a two-timing slut, and remarking about how unseasonably nice the weather has been, lately.

But once Taehyung begins clearing plates, anxiety starts to seep into Namjoon's pores, and he worries that perhaps he is overstaying his welcome. He is pretty sure that Jeongguk had fun with him last night, but he does not want to seem clingy or weird.

"So," he says, standing from the table. "I don't want to impose or anything, so if you guys have something to do, I can always go."

Jeongguk shrugs.

"I have nothing going on, but if you want to go home, you can. Otherwise, I was going to suggest we continue what we started yesterday."

"Oh?" Namjoon asks, somewhat surprised by Jeongguk's response.

And Jeongguk, the devil that he is, stands from his chair, leans in, lips to Namjoon's ear, and mutters, "It's not just a hookup if we spend twenty-four hours together, right?"

Goosebumps cover Namjoon, and he mulls it over. This rule feels completely made up, but such is the case with most rules in life.

"I suppose you're right."

"Good," Jeongguk responds, still so close, his lips graze Namjoon's ear. "Because I really want you to fuck me, daddy."

Namjoon chokes on nothing, coughing and attempting to cover it by clearing his throat. But Jeongguk is obviously well aware of the effect he has and smacks a kiss to Namjoon's temple before walking away with a giggle.

The rest of the day is a whirlwind of Namjoon becoming surprisingly comfortable in their home. Taehyung shows him some of his favorite photographs of Jeongguk modeling their friend's clothing, and even asks his opinion of some of the more recent pieces their friend has sewn. They convince Jeongguk to try some of them on—mostly flowy, formless articles of fabric—and Taehyung shoots some candids of the two of them, simply for the fun of it.

When the sun begins to hang low in the sky, and he and Jeongguk are deciding on what to have for dinner, Namjoon is surprised by how much time has passed so quickly. Taehyung excuses himself, saying he is going to stay with someone for the night, and winks on his way out, leaving the two of them alone.

"How do you feel about fried chicken?" Jeongguk asks before Namjoon has a chance to dwell on whatever may come next.

"I like fried chicken."

Jeongguk stands from his place on the floor in front of the couch, and Namjoon cranes his neck before standing and joining him.

"There's a spot just down the street. They have beer, too. If you want to drink again."

"I could drink a little again," Namjoon says.

"Want to change? Or are you comfortable in my joggers?"

Jeongguk is also dressed in a tee and joggers, so Namjoon does not see the issue of wearing more or less the same clothing.

"This is fine," he responds.

And with that, they are off. Jeongguk makes his way to the door and begins to slide his shoes on, offering a pair of sneakers to Namjoon, so he does not have to wear his boots. And Namjoon follows suit, sliding into the shoes—which fit perfectly—willing to let Jeongguk lead him out the door and anywhere he pleases.

They walk a little over a block away. Namjoon begins lamenting as soon as they get outside that he is not quite dressed for the warm day to cool with the lowering sun, but he hardly has a chance to feel uncomfortably cold before Jeongguk is pulling open a door and ushering him inside.

The restaurant is surprisingly raucous, with patrons shouting over televisions playing baseball games, and there is a steady echo of bottles and glasses hitting wooden tables in nice, hollow thunks. Jeongguk finds them a seat in the center of the space—a small, square wooden table that hardly looks big enough for the two of them—and Namjoon pulls out a rickety wooden chair and sits.

Namjoon likes these restaurants because the quality of the food speaks for itself. The actual dining room is a little dank with walls splattered in stains he would rather not overthink, and the furniture is all past the point of being safe—and is certainly not comfortable, by any means. But one does not come to a spot like this for the ambiance. One comes for the fried chicken and the drink specials.

They order a variety of chicken, some with sauces and some plain, along with a pitcher of beer, and two bottles of fresh soju. It only takes a few minutes for drinks to arrive, and Jeongguk grabs for one of the bottles to crack it open while Namjoon makes quick but delicate work filling two chilled pint glasses with beer.

Jeongguk reaches to set a cup of soju in front of Namjoon, and Namjoon glances with a smile before looking back at the beer that he slowly pours, careful not to let too much foam build. Seokjin and Yoongi have never let him live down the one time he poured too quickly and had a cup that was close to eighty percent foam. Lesson learned.

"So," Jeongguk says, pulling Namjoon's gaze as he reaches to set the beer in front of the younger and begins pouring his own glass. "How has this very long date been for you, daddy?"

Namjoon glances around, nervous that someone may have heard him referred to as daddy, then looks at Jeongguk with a smile before focusing on his half-full glass.

"It's been fun."

Jeongguk hums, and Namjoon wonders if his answer was unsatisfactory, so he continues.

"I really like being in your company. And Taehyung's. But mostly yours."

"So you're saying I won't have to fight my roommate for you, after all?" Jeongguk teases.

Namjoon chuckles and sets the partially empty pitcher aside, then smiles at Jeongguk, raising his glass to his lips.

"I don't know; maybe he will return tonight unexpectedly and make his move."

Jeongguk laughs, then picks up his beer and has a drink. Namjoon also drinks, letting the cold, carbonated liquid chill him to the bone. Then, Jeongguk sets his beer aside, lifts his shot of soju, and holds it up, waiting for Namjoon to do the same.

"To my roommate staying gone until I have had a chance to deflower you," Jeongguk says with a wide, devilish smile.

The sound that comes from Namjoon's chest can hardly be considered a laugh. It is more like a deep, awkward bark, and as soon as it passes his lips, he feels embarrassed. Still, he taps his small glass cup to Jeongguk's and shoots the liquid back, feeling the sting of the clear liquor against his taste buds as they settle into the feeling.

"You are always so unserious," Namjoon complains, though he absolutely does not mind.

"You love it," Jeongguk beams with a cheesy smile.

And it is true. Namjoon is smitten by Jeongguk's goofy antics. So much so that he already anticipates really missing him the moment this very long date has to inevitably come to an end.

With a sigh, Namjoon grumbles, "Somehow, I am charmed by it, yes."

And although Namjoon is feigning annoyance, there is a genuine spark of something in Jeongguk's eye—excitement, perhaps. Namjoon takes another pull from his beer, suddenly feeling nervous to have to fill the space with more discussion—unsure what to say to Jeongguk despite having spent the entire day with him.

There are many things he would like to discuss—like how fun the impromptu fashion show was, and how much he enjoys the way Jeongguk and Taehyung seem to feed off one another, sharing similar energy and playing along easily with one another. But he overthinks how it may sound. He overthinks the possibility of saying something wrong. Silly, really, since Jeongguk has given him no reason to.

"You seem lost in thought," Jeongguk teases.

Namjoon hums and lies, "Just hungry. I guess I am spacing out some."

"It's okay, hyung. You can tell me how excited you are to bend me over, later. I won't mind. In fact, I love the attention."

The longer Jeongguk talks, the higher Namjoon feels his nervous giddiness rise, and he shifts in his seat. Jeongguk must pick up on the effect he is having and grins.

"Shameless," Namjoon grumbles.

"What do I have to feel shame for?" Jeongguk challenges, leaning forward with his elbows on the table and his glass of beer hanging between his fingers. "Hmm?"

Namjoon searches for something clever to say in response but comes up short. Instead, he shrugs and takes another drink of his beer. He is beginning to feel lightheaded and is grateful for the server who comes along carrying a tray of fried chicken.

The food is amazing—crispy skin breaking away to juicy, flavorful meat. Namjoon watches with a smile as Jeongguk frowns into his first bite, and they exchange pleased groans before getting their fill. By the time the plates are empty, the pitcher is, too, and Namjoon sits back in his rickety chair, contemplating whether they should drink more or get back to Jeongguk's apartment. Despite all they have had to drink, Namjoon only feels faintly tipsy, thanks to the greasy food, so if Jeongguk did want to continue drinking, he thinks he could handle a little more before calling it quits.

Jeongguk clears his throat, pulling Namjoon's attention.

"You're spacing out again, hyung."

"I am," Namjoon sighs, feeling a bit embarrassed to be caught in the act. "I was just thinking about how much I want to get you home."

"Oh fuck, say less," Jeongguk says as he stands quickly, sending his wooden chair scraping against the worn floor while he fishes his wallet from his pocket.

Before Namjoon has a chance to protest and insist on paying, Jeongguk snatches the check from the table and makes his way to the counter. Namjoon takes a moment to chuckle and catch his breath, somehow already feeling his nerves build and begin to get the best of him. He wants to make Jeongguk feel good, and he hopes that, after talking a big game, he is able to perform.

But first, Namjoon needs to use the restroom. He stands and glances around, finding a wooden door in the back, then fishes out his phone, ignoring nosey messages from his best friends as he shoots Jeongguk a text that simply says, "Bathroom," and makes his way through the crowded restaurant.

Namjoon yanks on the handle, expecting it to be a room with several stalls, and is surprised to find it is a single room with just a toilet, a urinal, and a sink. Although the smell of cleaner is overwhelming, the room is surprisingly tidy, and Namjoon locks the door behind him and approaches the urinal to undo his pants and relieve his bladder.

A chill goes down Namjoon's spine, and he tips his head back with a happy sigh. The last twenty-four-ish hours have been a whirlwind and this moment of silence and reprieve is welcome. Once finished, Namjoon gives himself a little shake, tucks himself back into his borrowed joggers, and makes his way to the sink to wash his hands. The reflection staring at him in the mirror is tired but glowing, and it takes him a bit by surprise. Happiness looks good on him.

Once his hands are dry, Namjoon returns to the door, twists the lock, and pulls it open. Before he has a chance to take a step out into the restaurant, two firm hands press him backward, causing him to stumble back into the bright fluorescent light and smell of cleaner.

"Jeongguk," Namjoon chuckles, watching as Jeongguk enters and locks the door behind him. "Baby, you live a block away."

"Want you now," Jeongguk whines with two hands on Namjoon's hips, leading him back until his ass rests against the sink.

Jeongguk takes two paper towels and places them on the floor, then sinks to his knees, and Namjoon cannot help but chuckle at his attention to detail. His laughter, however, dies in his throat when Jeongguk begins to palm over his cock, sending blood rushing toward the touch.

"Baby, we can do this at your place," Namjoon tries again, not really against doing this here, if that is what Jeongguk wants, just concerned for his comfort.

But if Jeongguk wants to kneel over brown paper towels on a cold, hard tile floor and pull Namjoon's cock out with that devious, pretty look in his eyes, then who is he to stop him?

It takes mere moments for Namjoon to get hard, and Jeongguk wastes no time taking him into his mouth as far as he can. Pleasure quakes through Namjoon and he bites back a moan, gripping tightly to the sink behind him, but Jeongguk reaches and takes one of Namjoon's hands, and places it on his head, pressing his hand against him.

"Want me to guide your head, baby?" Namjoon asks, threading his fingers in Jeongguk's hair.

Jeongguk looks up with tears in his eyes and attempts to nod. The sight is so sweet, Namjoon lets out a pleased sigh.

"Want me to be gentle?"

Jeongguk attempts to shake his head, blinking his eyelashes invitingly.

"Want me to be rough?"

Jeongguk pulls back, mouth open with his tongue held flat and still touching the tip of Namjoon's dick as he nods. Then he takes Namjoon's length back into his mouth, deep, deep into his throat, and Namjoon trembles through the feeling and grips tightly onto his hair.

Although he has been given permission to be rough, Namjoon takes it slow, applying gentle pressure to Jeongguk's head. When Jeongguk's throat contracts and he gags, Namjoon lets up, but Jeongguk shakes his head as best as he can and whimpers, coming up for air, then eagerly taking him as far as he can once more.

Last night, choking on his cock was just a figure of speech, and today it is a serious want, and Namjoon is definitely reeling a bit from the switch in demeanor, but willing to give Jeongguk anything, pressing on his head as he gently thrusts his hips.

The two of them build a rhythm of slow thrusts, with Jeongguk swallowing around him before coming back for air, eagerly sucking at the tip between his lips before shoving it back into the tight clutch of his throat. Arousal builds, coursing through Namjoon's blood like oxygen, and he feels himself slowly climbing toward orgasm.

As if the feeling could not get any better, Jeongguk picks up the pace and pulls at Namjoon's hips, urging him to fuck his face. Namjoon can hardly believe his eyes as he watches tears stream down Jeongguk's pretty cheeks, looking at him with an expression that begs for debauchery.

"Close," Namjoon mutters, feeling his high build to the breaking point.

Jeongguk continues to stare up as Namjoon uses his throat, thrusting deep enough to trigger the muscles to spasm but not far enough to make Jeongguk fully gag around him. It feels like heaven, and Namjoon squeezes Jeongguk's hair tightly in his grip.

From outside, the handle is rattled, followed by a knock on the door, and a wave of excitement mingling with shame crashes over Namjoon as he picks up his pace, determined to cum quickly and get the fuck out of there.

"One moment," Namjoon attempts to shout evenly, though it definitely sounds like each word is laced with pleasure.

Jeongguk swallows hard, sucking in his cheeks and moaning around him, and it is just what Namjoon needs to sink into bliss. With a loosened grip, in case Jeongguk does not want jizz in his mouth, Namjoon mutters, "Gonna cum, baby."

A moan vibrates over his cock in response as Jeongguk continues to swallow hard and pull pleasure from him. Orgasm quakes through Namjoon, threatening to throw him to the floor, and he grips one hand against the sink as the other continues to press and guide Jeongguk's head. It is taking absolutely everything in Namjoon's power not to moan, and he gasps and pants through gritted teeth, letting soft whimpers squeak out between barely parted lips.

As his cum spurts into Jeongguk's mouth, the younger pulls his head back enough to let his tongue fall flat, and he uses a hand on Namjoon's shaft to milk him of the rest of his release, painting his pretty pink tongue white. The sight is absolutely sinful—tears streaking his face while his mouth is full of thick, viscous liquid—and Namjoon has to hold back from falling to his knees.

"Holy fuck, baby," Namjoon groans, voice coming out shattered and breathy.

Post-nut euphoria has Namjoon practically begging Jeongguk to marry him right there on the spot. Luckily, post-nut clarity washes over him quickly enough that he is able to tuck himself into his borrowed pants and help the pretty boy of his dreams up off the floor. Jeongguk swallows back Namjoon's load and nuzzles against his neck with a pleased purr, causing affection to burst and bloom in his chest.

"Let's get out of here," Namjoon mutters, rubbing his hands over Jeongguk's arms, and Jeongguk presses a kiss against Namjoon's skin.

As they exit the bathroom, Namjoon bows his head down to the person waiting outside, eyes on the floor. Jeongguk cheekily tells the person, "It's all yours!" as he takes Namjoon by the hand and yanks him through the busy restaurant and out into the cold night air.

The sun has completely set, and the breeze hits Namjoon unpleasantly as they turn to head back to the apartment. Luckily, Jeongguk tugs Namjoon close, nearly causing them to trip over one another's feet, warming up the left side of his body.

"Wow!" Namjoon practically shouts, gripping Jeongguk's side tight. "That was…god damn, baby."

"You liked that?" Jeongguk has the audacity to ask, making Namjoon laugh.

"Did I like that? It was incredible. Pretty sure I saw god."

"You did," Jeongguk teases. "You were staring down at me the entire time."

Cheeky, Namjoon thinks. Cheeky and sexy and absolutely perfect. He cannot wait to return the favor and is thrilled at the prospect by the time they are approaching Jeongguk's place.

"Do you mind if I shower?" Jeongguk asks as he unlocks the door to the building and holds it open for Namjoon to step inside.

"Why would I mind?"

"I don't know," Jeongguk mutters as they make their way up the stairs. "Don't want you to get bored."

Being bored in the organized chaos of two art student's apartment is not something that Namjoon is terribly worried about, but he simply shrugs and says, "I'll be fine. Just don't stretch yourself too much while you're in there."

Jeongguk lifts his hand to punch in the code to his apartment door, but it hovers over the buttons. He turns to Namjoon with one eyebrow raised.

"Oh?"

"Yeah."

The minuscule space between them is closed as Jeongguk steps close and asks, "Eager to stretch me, yourself?"

Namjoon smiles.

"Of course I am."

The look that flashes in Jeongguk's eyes is bright and eager, and he seems to struggle with reality for a split moment before remembering where they are. Jeongguk clears his throat, then turns back to the keypad, entering the code that gains them access—wrong first before getting it right.

As soon as the door is open, Jeongguk tugs Namjoon inside and pulls him into a deep, eager kiss. Namjoon tastes heady remnants of himself on Jeongguk's tongue and groans as Jeongguk nibbles on his bottom lip.

"You can join me in the shower if you want to," Jeongguk offers.

And although the prospect of seeing Jeongguk naked as quickly as possible is very enticing, there is never a good way for two broad bodies to stay warm in one shower, so Namjoon shakes his head and says, "I can wait, baby. I don't mind."

Jeongguk licks once more into Namjoon's mouth, raking his palms up and down Namjoon's pecs, then he breaks the kiss, kicks his sneakers off in a hurry, and shouts, "Be right back!" as he runs through his apartment, toward the bathroom.

Fond laughter rocks through Namjoon's chest, and he toes out of his borrowed sneakers and lightly kicks them onto the pile, then makes his way through the apartment, into Jeongguk's purple-lit room. Throughout the course of the day, he has felt texts coming in—probably from at least one of his best friends—but he has managed to ignore them until now, and he plops down onto Jeongguk's bed to check his phone, finding four messages in their group chat.

Yoongi How was the date last night?

Yoongi It is unlike you to sleep past noon, so I am going to assume it was really great, or you are dead.

Yoongi Namjoonah. You have until midnight to respond before I file a missing person's report.

Seokjin Earth to Namjoon! Yoongi is a mess! Respond to him before I go insane. We are supposed to be watching Chopped, but he keeps checking his phone.

Namjoon shakes his head and chuckles as he reads over the messages. How did two of the most dramatic men he has ever met find one another? They truly are perfect for each other, he thinks.

Namjoon Sorry for making you two worry.

It takes exactly five seconds for the two of them to respond.

Seokjin Yah! He lives!

Yoongi For fuck's sake, finally!

Namjoon Sorry, hyungs. I spent all day with Jeongguk. Haven't been checking my phone.

Yoongi I knew we would completely lose you, but I didn't think it would happen this fast.

Seokjin With him all day, huh? And is it safe to assume you stayed the night?

Namjoon I did.

Yoongi The slut-shamer truly has become the slut. We love to see it.

Seokjin Is he as buff in real life as he is in his pictures?

Namjoon He is definitely more buff. But hold your slut remarks, hyung. We haven't fucked yet.

Seokjin What on earth have you been doing for the past twenty-seven hours?

Namjoon Other things.

Yoongi Other slutty things?

A laugh rocks through Namjoon's chest; these two are incorrigible.

Namjoon Yes, I suppose we have been doing other slutty things.

Seokjin And you like him? Are you going to see him again?

The sound of a faucet being shut off—a metallic whine coming from deep within the pipes—cries through the wall, and Namjoon bites his lip as a smile blooms over his face.

Namjoon Yes, very soon. In about a minute, actually.

Yoongi Oh?

Namjoon hears the bathroom door open, and he quickly types his last message—

Namjoon He's out of the shower. Bye, hyungs! Don't wait up for me!

—and then flings his phone face-down onto Jeongguk's bedside table just in time for Jeongguk to appear in the doorway toweling off his hair while standing in the nude.

Last night, Namjoon only saw Jeongguk while laying in his bed, and he was so overwhelmed by everything that was happening, that he really did not get a good look at his body. So the sight of Jeongguk walking in, muscular thighs flexing with each step while his cock hangs heavy and partially erect has Namjoon's mouth watering in seconds.

"Like what you see, daddy?" Jeongguk has the audacity to ask.

Namjoon is stunned into silence as he nods, letting out a weak, "Uh-huh."

Beside him, his phone buzzes loudly on the small wooden table, and Jeongguk glances at it, then grins.

"Texting other hoes?"

Namjoon nods, then realizes what Jeongguk asked and shakes his head, struggling with how the sight of Jeongguk nude and approaching has his brain buffering so hard.

"Best friends," he mutters. "Probably excited that I am about to do slutty things with the man of my dreams."

Jeongguk raises an eyebrow, asking, "Man of your dreams, hmm?"

All Namjoon can do is smile back at him, lost in his wide, shimmering eyes.

Jeongguk laughs, bright and pretty, warming Namjoon's chest. The closer he gets, the more Namjoon tells himself that he needs to stop being an absolute fool and get a hold of himself. Luckily, Jeongguk wrapping his arms over Namjoon's shoulders and straddling his lap seems to bring him back to reality. The familiar heavy warmth is back, and Namjoon hugs his arms around Jeongguk's body, rubbing his palms across his ribs and back.

"It's cute how flustered I make you," Jeongguk teases, leaning down to slot their lips together.

"Glad I amuse you," Namjoon responds with a soft smile, feeling his heart go haywire in his chest.

"Do you have any idea how hard it was to resist fingering myself while thinking of you?" Jeongguk asks against Namjoon's lips, sending a chill through him.

Namjoon slides his hands down to Jeongguk's ass and grips tight enough to make him gasp.

"Is that so?"

Jeongguk's confidence seems to crumble just a little, and he pouts as he nods and says, "Yes, daddy."

Namjoon drops his voice lower and gently spreads Jeongguk with his hands. "But you were a good boy and didn't finger yourself, I hope?"

A sigh falls between Jeongguk's parted lips, which he licks as he nods again, saying, "I was a good boy."

"Show me," Namjoon commands, giving Jeongguk's ass a little smack before letting him go.

Jeongguk scrambles to get off Namjoon's lap and crawls to the middle of the bed. He hugs a pillow and his black comforter as he settles on his elbows and knees, and if Namjoon is not mistaken, he looks a little shy.

And god, the sight of him. Jeongguk is soft yet muscular, skin graced with tan lines and tattoos. Faint stretch marks on his thigh and hip adorn him like tiny, pretty tiger stripes, and Namjoon dances his fingertips over them, feeling the barely-there rise and dip of skin.

Namjoon reaches for the bottle of lube on the bedside table and tosses it aside, on the comforter, then gets onto his hands and knees and takes his place behind Jeongguk. The slope of his perfectly round ass, cascading into a thin, sculpted waist and thick, muscular thighs…Namjoon could study Jeongguk's topography as art; place him on a pedestal between the statues Aphrodite of Milos and David.

A long, slow sigh leaves Jeongguk's lips as Namjoon traces his fingertips down the expanse of his ass and gently spreads him wide. Puckered skin greets him like an invitation and Namjoon licks his lips and feels a warm sheen of sweat cover him as he imagines just how good Jeongguk must taste.

"So pretty," Namjoon groans, rubbing his thumbs affectionately over Jeongguk's skin.

A soft chuckle greets Namjoon, followed by a gasp of, "Are you just staring at my asshole?"

Namjoon laughs, looking to Jeongguk's face affectionately, which is partially buried in his blanket.

"Does it make you shy?" he teases.

With a groan, Jeongguk responds, "A little."

Namjoon rubs his hands up and down the swells of Jeongguk's ass, hoping to soothe his anxiety.

"I am an appreciator of art, baby. Let me appreciate you."

Jeongguk lets out a whiny little groan in response, and Namjoon lifts his hand and gives him a playful smack on the ass that stings his palm ever so slightly. With a low whimper, Jeongguk trembles, and Namjoon gives the skin a little squeeze, causing even more pretty sounds to fill the room.

"Do you like being spanked, baby?"

"Yes," Jeongguk whimpers sweetly. "I also like being fucked and you're teasing me so much."

Although it is fair for Jeongguk to be so eager—especially after his stunt in the bathroom of that restaurant—Namjoon gives Jeongguk's ass another smack and squeezes.

"So needy," he taunts, grinning widely when Jeongguk responds with an impatient groan.

Namjoon leans forward and flicks the tip of his tongue against Jeongguk's rim, watching as the skin puckers and absolutely reveling in the moan that falls from Jeongguk's lips.

"Please," Jeongguk whimpers, and Namjoon thinks he can hear blunt fingernails scratching at the black comforter.

"Yes, baby?" Namjoon asks, dragging his lips over the soft swell of Jeongguk's cheek, close to his pretty little hole.

"Need you, please," Jeongguk whines desperately, giving his hips a little wiggle. "I'm so fucking horny, hyung, please."

Namjoon chuckles at the use of hyung over daddy. Jeongguk must really be desperate if he is falling back to something slightly more formal.

"What can hyung do for you, baby?" Namjoon teases as he leaves wet kisses along the cleft of Jeongguk's ass, up to his lower back.

"Touch me."

Namjoon squeezes the soft skin in his palms, muttering, "I am touching you, baby."

The groan Jeongguk graces Namjoon with is so frustrated and pretty, Namjoon almost feels bad for working him up to his point. Almost.

"Eat me out, finger me, fuck me, anything, please, daddy."

Namjoon settles on his knees, releasing Jeongguk from his hold long enough to pull the borrowed shirt over his head and fling it to the floor. Then he takes Jeongguk forcefully in his hands—making the poor man gasp—and says, "Well, since you said please," as he leans forward and licks a firm, slow stripe over Jeongguk's hole.

"F-f-fuck," Jeongguk whimpers as Namjoon laps over him, eagerly tasting and giving him exactly what he wants.

Jeongguk is faintly tangy-sweet, and Namjoon groans as his tongue breaches his tight hole, met with resistance as he stretches him. The sounds Jeongguk makes are music to Namjoon's ears—deep and low with pitchy squeaks and whines.

Namjoon fucks his tongue into Jeongguk's hole as drool drips down his chin, alternating slurping over the rim and swirling his tongue, groaning as he devours him. Pleasuring Jeongguk is so satisfying, Namjoon's cock is instantly full and leaking in his briefs, somewhat uncomfortable in the constricting material, and he reaches down with one hand to adjust himself, whimpering from the brush of his own fingertips against his length. Then he grabs the small plastic bottle of lube and flips the cap open with his thumb while his mouth stays busy.

Carefully, Namjoon squirts lube onto his fingertips without bothering to look, sucking and licking at Jeongguk's rim, making a wet fucking mess of him. Moans and whimpers roll nonstop from Jeongguk's lips, and Namjoon rubs the lube over his index finger and snakes it up to his rim, tapping it against him enough to make him tremble.

"This what you want, baby?" Namjoon groans, pressing the tip of his finger into Jeongguk's hole while dragging his lips, teeth, and tongue over any skin he can reach.

"Yes," Jeongguk whimpers, "yes, please."

Slowly, gently, Namjoon presses his finger into Jeongguk, feeling the rings of muscle tighten and relax, attempting to accommodate to the intrusion. Jeongguk lets out a loud, shattered moan, and Namjoon works his finger out and back in, pressing forward a little more each time.

When Jeongguk is finally adjusted to one finger—no longer panting and gasping like he is in peril—Namjoon slicks up his middle finger and gradually inserts it. Jeongguk's legs tremble hard, and Namjoon litters his thighs and cheeks with kisses.

"Need me to stop or slow down?" Namjoon asks softly, nipping at skin.

"No," Jeongguk whimpers, "'s fine. Don't stop."

Despite Jeongguk's insistence, Namjoon does take it slow. When his knuckles catch, struggling to push past the rim, Namjoon lets a stream of spit drop from his lips to his fingers and slowly pulls out, watching as the fluids squelch on the press back in. Jeongguk gasps and whimpers, and although it takes him a little while longer to accommodate two fingers, by the time he does, he begins to beg for more.

"Please," he whimpers, panting with a glossy sheen of sweat covering his body. "Feels so good, daddy."

The nickname makes Namjoon chuckle—still not fully used to it—and he picks up the bottle of lube, flicks the cap open, and dribbles some of the cold liquid directly onto Jeongguk's hole, which is stretched around two fingers. Payback from the night before.

Jeongguk squeals and nearly tugs Namjoon's fingers out of him as his hips buck downward, and Namjoon gives his ass a light little smack, chuckling at all the bratty huffs coming from him. Namjoon uses the two fingers inserted to spread Jeongguk to the side, then uses his other index finger to stretch him further, watching as he is swallowed whole by Jeongguk's pretty, taupe-pink inner muscles.

The petulant sounds from Jeongguk are quickly replaced by gasps and moans, and Namjoon lets his eyes follow the perfect curves of Jeongguk's body, to his face smashed against a pillow, and back to his ass.

"So perfect," Namjoon praises as he works his fingers in and out, pushing his left while pulling his right, back and forth.

"Please," Jeongguk whimpers. "Need you. Please."

Namjoon chuckles and leans to nip on the soft skin of Jeongguk's ass.

"Oh, baby. You're not stretched enough to handle my cock, yet."

The groan that leaves Jeongguk's mouth is one of deep frustration, and Namjoon cannot help but laugh. Of course he would be a needy little brat when he bottoms.

Namjoon sucks marks into both cheeks, nipping at the sensitive skin and making Jeongguk whimper while he slowly continues to stretch him on three fingers. Then, he dribbles spit into Jeongguk's hole and slowly begins to insert his other middle finger, prising him open with both hands.

"H-holy f-f-fuck," Jeongguk moans.

His entire body trembles, and Namjoon watches and listens for any little hint that Jeongguk needs him to slow or stop. But Jeongguk just sobs and shakes and whimpers loose consonants that may or may not be attempts at words.

"Feel good, baby?"

Shattered sounds fall before Jeongguk manages an intelligible, "S-s-so good," making Namjoon smile.

"You're almost ready for me," Namjoon groans, moving two of his fingers to hook on the bottom of Jeongguk's rim while he twists his other two inside, feeling for his prostate.

Jeongguk's body tenses and he practically screams as Namjoon applies pressure to his sweet spot, and Namjoon continues to dribble spit into his stretched hole to keep his rim nice and wet while he pulls and prods.

"Can you cum untouched like this, pretty baby?"

Jeongguk whimpers in response, and Namjoon continues to prod at his prostate, gently attempting to push him over the edge. One of Jeongguk's shoulders moves, and Namjoon cocks his head, watching as he reaches for his own cock. With a click of his tongue to the roof of his mouth, Namjoon stops his movements, making Jeongguk whine.

"Hands above your head, baby."

"But why—" Jeongguk sobs as he reaches both hands above his head.

"Only good boys get fucked," Namjoon teases, dropping his voice low. "Are you going to be a good boy for me?"

Jeongguk moans an eager, "Uh-huh," to which Namjoon says, "Use your words for me, baby."

"Yes!" Jeongguk sobs. "Yes, daddy. I will be good for you."

Namjoon continues to prod into Jeongguk, twisting his fingers and rubbing against his prostate. Jeongguk quickly becomes a sobbing, blubbering mess, trembling harshly the louder his voice becomes.

"Is my baby gonna cum?" Namjoon asks, and Jeongguk sobs out a, "Yes!" that is borderline unrecognizable, muffled by fabric.

Gaped and prodded, Jeongguk's body quakes hard, voice coming out ragged. The scene is downright filthy, and Namjoon cannot get enough. One of Jeongguk's legs slides out from underneath him, and then he gradually sinks the other down, laying flat onto the mattress and either intentionally or involuntarily rutting his hips down against the bed.

"Is my dirty boy gonna cum from humping his comforter," Namjoon teases.

Jeongguk only sobs.

It does not take long for Jeongguk to cum without warning, crying into the pillow, muffled but still a delightful sound. Only when Jeongguk begins to scramble—nails digging and body quaking—while begging Namjoon to stop, does Namjoon slowly pull his fingers free.

Jeongguk's hole is puffy and stretched, and Namjoon bends low to lave his tongue soothingly over it, causing Jeongguk to let out a deep, strangled moan while melting into the bed. The taste of him is covered by the sickly sweet flavor of lube, but he still groans and licks as if this is a flavor he craves, if only to continue to unravel Jeongguk completely. Then, he sits high on his knees and gives Jeongguk's ass a playful smack, delighting in how it jiggles on impact.

"On your back, baby," Namjoon commands. "I want to see that pretty face."

Jeongguk groans as he gets onto his elbows and knees haphazardly, then falls to his side and slides to the edge of the bed, standing just enough to yank his cum-stained comforter out of the way. His hair is a wild mess of sweat and waves, sticking out in every direction with some clung to his forehead. When he sits back on the bed, Namjoon stands and moves more of the comforter to the side, then hooks his thumbs into the waistbands of his briefs and borrowed joggers and pushes them down.

"How is my pretty boy feeling?" Namjoon asks affectionately as he watches Jeongguk watch him undress.

"Good," Jeongguk mutters with his eyes glued to Namjoon's hard, leaking cock. "No one's ever done that before. I thought I was gonna pass out."

The praise instantly goes to Namjoon's head, and he climbs onto his hands and knees and crawls between Jeongguk's spread legs.

"No one has ever fingered you open with both hands and played with your prostate until you came?"

"No," Jeongguk responds with a chuckle, shaking his head slowly with his eyes wide and a little dazed.

Namjoon sits on his knees and gently rubs his palms up and down Jeongguk's thighs, and Jeongguk's eyes flutter closed as he leans his head against the wall and smiles.

"Do you need a break?" Namjoon asks, and Jeongguk keeps his eyes closed as he shakes his head and mutters, "No."

"Some water?"

Another slow shake of the head, "I'm good."

"Alright," Namjoon says as he gently tugs at Jeongguk's legs. "Lay down for me."

Jeongguk complies, scooting low until his head meets the pillow, staring up at Namjoon. Never has Namjoon seen someone look so pretty with wild hair, covered in sweat, and he crawls between Jeongguk's legs, cages his head in with his hands, and leans in for a kiss.

With a groan, Jeongguk wraps his arms around Namjoon and sinks his legs into the bed, and Namjoon licks and nips at Jeongguk's lips until his mouth sighs open, pliant for him to explore as he likes.

"How do you like to be fucked?" Namjoon asks against Jeongguk's lips, making him gasp.

It takes a few seconds for Jeongguk to groan, "However you want to fuck me. Just want to feel you."

Namjoon chuckles, plays with Jeongguk's lip ring between his teeth, then nudges their noses together.

"Do you like it rough?"

Jeongguk nods and opens his eyes pleadingly.

"I do like it rough."

"Alright," Namjoon groans, kissing Jeongguk nice and deep before sitting high on his knees once more, searching the tangled comforter for the lube.

His fingertips graze plastic, and he lifts the bottle and flicks it open, then squirts some onto his palm. Using both hands, he warms the liquid, then coats his cock while reaching to smear some over Jeongguk's hole.

Jeongguk gasps and fists the comforter by his sides, eyes wide and eager, and Namjoon crawls forward and hooks Jeongguk's legs around his hips, then begins to line himself up. It has been far too long since he has had the pleasure of sinking his cock into someone, and he hopes like hell he does not cum too fast, wanting to give Jeongguk as much pleasure as he can.

Slowly, gently, Namjoon presses his slick, blunt tip into Jeongguk's tight, wet hole, watching intently as Jeongguk's expression twists and widens before relaxing, only to twist again. The squeeze is almost too much, and Namjoon works slowly in before pulling a bit out, over and over until Jeongguk finally swallows him whole.

Incoherent sobs and a sputtering of syllables fall from Jeongguk's lips, and he fists the blanket tighter the more he becomes a panting, sweating mess. Namjoon stills his hips as Jeongguk adjusts to the stretch, waiting for him to give him to go ahead, rubbing his hands up and down Jeongguk's thighs and over his knees.

"You feel so good, baby," Namjoon coos sweetly, touching Jeongguk as if he is something delicate.

"T-too big," Jeongguk whimpers, screwing his eyes tightly shut before opening them wide.

"Shh, you can take it, baby. You can be so good for me."

Jeongguk nods slowly, muttering, "S-so good for you," as his eyelids flutter prettily.

"Do you have a safe word?" Namjoon asks, fingertips cascading over kneecaps.

After a few seconds, Jeongguk shakes his head. "I'll just tell you to slow if I need it."

Namjoon rolls his hips back slowly, and Jeongguk reaches both hands above his head, stretching them until his knuckles graze the wall while letting out a deep moan. Then Namjoon snaps his hips forward, forcing Jeongguk's back to arc as he sobs.

"Too hard?" Namjoon asks, rolling his hips back once more, and Jeongguk frantically shakes his head.

"Perfect," he mutters, gazing up as if Namjoon and himself have swapped places to be god. "So good."

"Good," Namjoon responds as he snaps his hips again, then he grips onto Jeongguk's spread thighs and begins to set a hard, punishing pace.

Jeongguk immediately begins to babble nonsense, interspersing a series of, "Yes, yes, yes," cried out almost desperately, and Namjoon cannot get enough.

"So tight," Namjoon praises, winning a pitchy sob.

"You feel so incredible, baby," he adds, and Jeongguk answers with sounds that could hardly be considered words.

Jeongguk's hard cock slaps against his tummy, leaving a wet little splatter of precum on his skin, and Namjoon considers gripping his length and finding out how quickly he can make the poor man cum again—wonders how many times Jeongguk can orgasm until he really does lose his mind completely.

But instead, he takes his time pushing Jeongguk to his second orgasm. The sight of him bouncing on his cock, thighs splayed and screaming with his hands gripping uselessly for purchase above his head is too irresistible to bring to an end so soon, even if Jeongguk could handle several more orgasms. Namjoon is in no rush.

“You take my cock so well,” Namjoon praises, grinning as Jeongguk sobs and nods his head in a daze. “You should see yourself. Breathtaking.”

With a whimper, Jeongguk covers his face under one arm. Namjoon reaches for his wrist and gently tugs it away, above his head, then leans forward, pinning him down and changing the angle of his thrusts. His abdomen rubs against Jeongguk's cock, causing Jeongguk to tense and tremble, and he clenches Namjoon's cock like a vise grip.

"Fuck, baby, I won't last if you squeeze me so hard," Namjoon groans, lolling his face toward the ceiling to give himself a break from looking down at the fucked out, devastatingly pretty man beneath him.

"G-gonna c-cum," Jeongguk mutters, causing Namjoon to snap his hips forward a bit harder.

"Yeah?" Namjoon taunts, looking back down at Jeongguk, whose eyes are glossed over with tears, which pool at the edges. "You gonna make a mess of yourself for me, baby?"

Jeongguk nods and whimpers, then begs, mouth hanging agape as his back arches. "Please make me cum."

Namjoon sits back on his knees, making Jeongguk whine—undoubtedly from a loss of friction—then he gently brushes his fingertips over Jeongguk's messy cockhead, watching him squirm for more before wrapping his fingers around his length and gently stroking.

"This what you need, baby?"

"Yes," Jeongguk whimpers, trembling from limb to limb. He sounds mindless as he mutters, "Please, please," over and over like a prayer.

Namjoon grits his teeth, fucking Jeongguk so hard and deep, sweat drips down the side of his face.

"You like way I fuck you?"

"Yes!" Jeongguk sobs. "I love the way you fuck me, daddy!"

Unsure where the sudden ego trip is coming from, Namjoon asks, "And has anyone every fucked you this good before?"

Jeongguk shakes his head eagerly from side to side, knitting his brows. "No! Only you!"

"That's right," Namjoon growls, squeezing his eyes shut momentarily in the hope of chasing off his looming orgasm. "Only me."

"Only you, daddy," Jeongguk mutters softly. "Only you."

Namjoon wishes he could capture this moment and save it for later, enraptured by the visual of Jeongguk sprawled and heavenly, praising him so sweetly while Namjoon tugs at his cock and fucks him into his mattress.

Jeongguk's utterances of, "Please, please," continue, and Namjoon gives his dick a squeeze, ready to let Jeongguk have what he so desperately wants, feeling Jeongguk's muscles flutter and pulsate around his length.

"Cum for me, baby," Namjoon groans, voice deep and full of want, and Jeongguk moans loudly, gripping the pillow above his head as his back arches. "You've been so good; let me see you cum."

Jeongguk's cock twitches in Namjoon's fist as his cum spurts out onto his chest and belly, and he squeezes Namjoon so tightly, Namjoon feels himself hurtle toward orgasm. And maybe, just maybe, Namjoon would be able to hold back and stave it off a little longer if it weren't for the moans punctuated by choked sobs that leave Jeongguk's pretty lips.

"I'm gonna cum too," Namjoon whines, succumbing to the feeling despite wanting to last much longer.

"Inside," Jeongguk pleads as the final drops of his release slide down Namjoon's fist. "Fill me, please."

A deep moan bursts from Namjoon's lungs as pleasure claws at him, dragging him down to the depths of hell, orgasm hitting him so dizzyingly hard that he releases Jeongguk's cock and nearly falls forward. Namjoon quakes and trembles, pressing himself deep into Jeongguk, who continues to squeeze rhythmically around him, milking him of his release, and Namjoon thinks he sees stars.

Two warm, soft arms wrap around Namjoon's neck and pull him gently forward, and only then does Namjoon realize that his eyes have been squeezed tightly shut. As he allows Jeongguk to guide him down, laying on his cum and sweat-covered body, Jeongguk runs his hands over his hair and neck, praising him softly.

"So good, daddy," Jeongguk coos, rubbing the tip of his nose just under Namjoon's ear and making him shiver. "You felt so fucking good."

Namjoon allows himself to be held and wraps his arms around Jeongguk's neck, burying his face against sweaty hair and skin that already smell like home. He makes no move to pull his soft, spent cock from Jeongguk, and Jeongguk does not seem to mind, holding him impossibly closer.

"God damn, that was incredible," Namjoon grumbles when he finally finds his voice. His mouth feels dry and raw, and he desperately needs water, but he does not want it badly enough to move.

Silence, save for the sounds of their deep, shattered breaths, fill the space, and they finally readjust with the two of them on their sides facing one another, sadly without Jeongguk cockwarming Namjoon anymore. Fingertips brush through Namjoon's hair, and he opens his eyes to find Jeongguk watching him and smiling with something like reverence in his gaze.

"I meant it, you know," Jeongguk says, and Namjoon attempts to remember anything either of them may have said in the last hour or so before simply asking, "Hmm?"

Jeongguk chuckles.

"When I said nobody has ever fucked me as good. I meant it."

A soft laugh pushes from Namjoon's lungs, and he feels heat rise to his cheeks from the sudden onslaught of vulnerability.

"So you'll let me do it again?" he asks, sheepishly.

"Of course," Jeongguk responds sweetly, rubbing the tips of their noses together. "I would be an idiot to let you go so easily."

Affection bursts behind Namjoon's ribs and he pulls Jeongguk close as he mutters, "Good."

Namjoon would be surprised by how easy it is to fall into step beside Jeongguk, becoming a regular facet in his life, but, truth be told, everything with Jeongguk is easy.

From the time he returns home from his long date with Jeongguk—after having to very reluctantly peel himself from the younger's bed the morning after—it takes Namjoon approximately ten minutes to delete Grindr from his phone, and another three minutes to text Jeongguk to ask when he wants to see him again.

They schedule their second date for the following evening, with plans to keep it low-key and simple, which Namjoon thwarts the second he decides to put together a picnic and surprise Jeongguk at one of his favorite parks near the river. And that night, Jeongguk returns to Namjoon's home, and it takes several days for him to leave, doing coursework beside Namjoon as he works from home, taking up a space that Namjoon had never realized was so empty.

And just like that, the two of them become inseparable. Namjoon introduces Jeongguk and Taehyung to some friends who are in charge of local galleries and DIY art spaces, and slowly, more and more of Jeongguk's items find their way into Namjoon's apartment, just as easily as Jeongguk finds his way into Namjoon's heart. Their friend groups grow and blossom, intertwining beautifully, and Namjoon often waxes poetic about the sordid place that, against many odds, brought the two of them together finally feeling complete.

okay, yeah, the very ending is a bit rushed tbh because i didn’t want to end on smut but was so brain-empty to go on any longer. but it’s sweet ok so whatever lolol. sorry this took me months to complete, but i hope it was worth the wait! as always, please don't be a silent reader! comments and reblogs are so helpful, and likes are nice, too!

tags: @codeinebelle @dasexydevitt13 @giriiboyy @katskeigo @moonleeai @m1sss1mp @spookyminyunki @yoongiofmine 📲 this fic is over, but if you would like to be tagged in future works, dm me!

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#namjoon x jungkook #namkook #namkook smut #namkook fluff #bts smut #bts fluff #fic: this sordid place

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tanniefiles · 5 months

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YOONJIN 140124

Hello ARMY, it's Suga Today, thanks to all the great love from everyone it has become the day that we received another Best New Artist Award. Just like what I said during our acceptance speech, I think of these awards as given to us by all of you so the best way for us to reciprocate is to come back to you all with better stages and better music. I’m flawed in my awkward expressing but I do hope everyone knows that I’m always so thankful for all of you ㅠㅠ ARMY I love you, really thanks to all of you I’ve received enough happiness to last me for my entire life, though I’m nobody significant I love you ARMY!!

#yoonjin #140124 #2014 #fancafe #award #o!rul82?

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spookyserenades · 5 months

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AHHH, I JUST FINISHED CHAPTER 17 AND AM NOW LEFT TO SIT WITH MY FEELINGSSS 😫😫

Honestly, though, another AMAZING chapter!! I keep getting floored by the sheer word counts you’re producing! 25k?? WOW, you’re incredible! Everything was so well written, bestie; I feel like you’re a born writer. The contrast between cute, fluffy scenes and those genuinely chilling moments was so well put together. Speaking of spooky moments, that scene with shadows creeping around our ghost-busting musketeers made me so anxious. I was legit feeling claustrophobic!!

That scene with Seokjin was just 🤌🥵🥵 (need I say more?) and YOONGI!! My poor hearttttt. The way he loved his mother despite her being pretty sporadic parental-wise, it was clear that she cared greatly for Yoongi despite her affairs. It honestly broke my heart just imagining how Yoongi felt the moment he heard of his mother's tragic passing 😭

AND (bear with me 😉) TAE! You big old doofus!! I’m so conflicted. Why would he do this to our MC? Why would YOU do this to me?? (lol) I’m so stuck between understanding his actions and being heartbroken. On one hand, I get why he’d try and move on. MC appears pretty taken, but hookups? TAE—

How could this happen to my shy bear? Literally how??? He’s so shy. 😩 I’m NOT prepared for the angst that’ll follow this next chapter…

Anyways, I loved this chapter so much! I feel like I’ve already rambled enough, so I’ll leave my thoughts with that. You’re a fantastic writer, Dana!! Can’t wait to read the next one!

HIIII BESTIE AH THANK YOU FOR READINGGGG!!!! HOPE YOU AREN'T TOO EMO THAT IT IS OVER!!

IIIII really didn't expect this update to be so long!! I didn't mean for the paranormal investigation scene to go on for as many words, but with that added scene of Jeongguk explaining his tattoo and then the Yoonjin snuggle I couldn't stop!! But thank you love-- I guess the one blessing of being an unemployed lump is ample time to write 💀 You're the absolute sweetest, I can't 😭 My week has been made by you 💜💜💜

OOF Not that I'm glad that you felt like you were claustrophobic during the ghost scene, but I lowkey am 💀 That's the vibe I was going for, the shadows pressing down on you!

Ohhhh my Angel. The past two chapters (Seokjin-centric, which I also love) have me desperately missing him! I thought it was time to dive into his past a little bit, especially because he trusts Y/N completely by now. Despite his mother's flaws, Yoongi still adored her, and she did try her best to be a good mother. Eventually, when I get to Yoongi's prequel, we'll find out more about their interesting relationship!

HA BEAR WITH ME! PUNNY! Tae is operating off of what I like to call Capricorn Spite. and probably jealousy and confusion. Considering he was very clearly into Y/N (despite her realizing that) it seems he's trying to either distract or distance himself :( And while he IS very shy, he has been sort of overcoming that personality trait, and I think the photography class (him getting to express himself) has brought him out of his shell and realizing his potential to grow as a person. Ah. Def more angst to follow but keep in mind this story plans to have a happy ole ot7 ending (when I'm like eighty at this point 💀)

AHHHH but thank you so so much for your love and for reading AND for sending in your thoughts bestie 🥺💕 I love you so much and can't wait to update again in June when Jinnie is back!!!

#SPOILERS #trouvaille #asks #dana's thoughts

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personasintro · 1 year

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hi mimi! i just finished reading my tiny secret, and i cannot explain how beautiful it was. seokjin and oc both are trying to be better, and there are too many things I wanna say, but maybe I'll refrain. just..it's so beautiful. The growth of them, and while yoonjin was unborn, Seokjin ’s soft side..aw. oc dealing with her feelings and hobi being so supportive, i loved it sm!

Also the Christmas drabble 🥺 cute

Hey 🥹 omg thank you so much! Please don’t refrain yourself, I’d love to hear more of your thoughts 😭 I’m so happy you enjoyed this story! 🫶🩵

#💜

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ugh-yoongi · 2 years

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threw a punch in a bar | knj

(or, nothing good happens when a man you’d accidentally knocked out in a bar fight tells you to run.)

→ pairing: namjoon x f. reader → genre: zombie!au | crack, smut → rating: explicit. minors dni. → warnings: swearing, alcohol, a guy gets pushy in a bar, this results in a bar fight (mentioned broken bones, but nothing is described in explicit detail), vague american setting in order to drag the us healthcare system, side vmin, taehyung has klepto tendencies but he steals from wal-mart so it’s fine, really mid smut including: kissing, very slight dom!joon, grinding/thigh riding, implied oral (f. receiving), fingering, reader drops a bryce harper quote during sex, namjoon’s dick is big but we knew that, this is cancelled out by his horrible dirty talk, unprotected sex, vmin’s dumpling fight but make it settlers of catan. this is technically a zombie fic, but the circumstances are 99% in the background. there is nothing gory here, just sort of found family vibes centered around an apocalypse. also when i said the smut is mid i meant it. everyone has himbo tendencies except yoonjin. → wordcount: 11k → a/n: started this forever ago after doing one of those twt pause games on who i’d be stuck with in the zombie apocalypse. my result was vmin & namjoon, which birthed the idea of vmin spending the entire apocalypse subtly trying to convince you to sacrifice yourself for them. i was going to publish the draft of this on halloween but decided to finish it, went into a trance, and added 9k words, so please accept my late and humble offering. → thank yous: lauren, bee, and jess as always for all of their help: beta’ing, general feedback, constructive criticism, telling me when my shit doesn’t make sense. @effortandmore / @hot-soop / @the-boy-meets-evil

Any bartender worth their salt knows you don’t mix tequila and brandy.

Jimin, apparently, is only worth enough salt to rim a margarita glass.

All because he’s chaos incarnate: an absolute hellion of a person who causes problems just because. The type of person who calls a drink something innocuous like Tipsy Meow because it sounds sweet and he knows it’ll get people to order it. Sometimes he even serves them in glasses with cats painted on them, which is really cute and endearing and gets people to order that drink in the cute cat glass despite the fact that that drink in the cute cat glass is tequila and brandy.

In any other bar, that drink would be called something appropriate and applicable, like a Knockout.

Because that’s what it does—starts bar fights.

Which Jimin knows, because he’s actually a very competent bartender, but he likes to cause problems on purpose, especially on Tuesday nights when there’s not much else going on.

“Why did you do that?” Yoongi asks, watching some poor, unsuspecting woman practically skip back to her table with two Tipsy Meows in hand.

Jimin just smiles and shrugs. “Because,” he answers, eyes twinkling with something underhanded, “that tall guy at the high-top? He’s been eyeing her all night. She wouldn’t go for it on a good day, but after one of those?” A low whistle under his breath.

Yoongi just stares. He’s known Jimin a long time, going on six years now, so he’s never truly surprised at how duplicitous he can be, but sometimes he pretends for appearance’s sake. “Evil.”

“Not evil,” Jimin retorts, eyes rolled, “just bored.”

Snorting, Yoongi whips the towel off his shoulder and starts wiping down the bar. “Then do a fucking crossword puzzle.”

Jimin waves him away. “I’m not good at them. I’m good at this.”

“Getting people to fight in our bar?” Yoongi clarifies. Jimin nods. They stare at each other for a minute before Yoongi shrugs and finds some menial task to busy himself with. “Whatever. You’re on clean-up duty, though. The last time you pulled this shit, I was sweeping up glass for three fuckin’ days.”

Because he’s chaos incarnate, Jimin’s response is a sarcastic salute, two fingers pressed to his forehead as Yoongi flips him off in return.

Something is wrong.

You’ve been to this bar countless times, have always ordered the same thing. Always made sure to stick to your limits, because college had been both an exercise in adulting and maintaining a functioning liver.

Maybe it’s because the mint-haired guy didn’t make your drinks this time. Truthfully, you’ve been wary of him for a while, convinced he’s been watering them down just to get you to buy more. Not that you’re complaining. In all the years you’ve been coming here, you’ve never made a fool of yourself.

Now, though?

Now you’re very rapidly approaching find the nearest trashcan ASAP territory. I’m going to regret this in the morning territory. This hasn’t happened since that frat party sophomore year territory.

Yeah, that party. You’d drank something god-awful that night, too. Got roped into a game of strip poker in a seedy basement and walked away with $2,000, three nickels, and a half-used KFC gift card, only down a sock. Some douchebag frat bro hadn’t liked that very much, accused you of cheating and gave you a real hard time about it. Long story short, you’d been fueled by too many of the suspicious drinks and knocked him out.

This feels a lot like that.

Because you’re drunk, yes, but there’s something else lurking beneath the surface. Something that’s itching for a fight. Something that’s been dormant for a long time.

(This is a startling realization, because you’re not a violent person, despite all evidence to the contrary. You’ve only ever thrown one punch in your life. It’s really not your fault that it wound up being the punch heard ‘round the world.)

Those who cannot remember the past are doomed to repeat it. Your sixth grade history teacher had that quote hung on the wall and you haven’t thought about it until now. Because there’s a guy approaching your table—probably six-foot, wearing an expensive watch and polished shoes—and he’s been eyeing your friend all night. Had made a few crude comments to his buddies that you’d regretfully overheard, and you’re all out of sorts because the mint-haired bartender hadn’t made your drinks, so he’s nearly got his elbows on the table when you say—

“Fuck off, asshole.”

Both your friend and the guy look equally shocked. “Excuse me?” he says, looking back to the idiots at his table in disbelief.

You roll your eyes, blood beginning to boil. “I said fuck off. She’s not interested.”

“And she can’t speak for herself?” he retorts, all faux-chivalry now that everyone’s attention is on him, even though the bar is practically deserted at nine o’clock on a Tuesday. “Your friend’s a little uptight, huh?” he says, shifting his attention fully away from you.

God, you always do this—befriend the most wholesome people in the room. The ones who always assume the best in others; the ones who can’t say no; the ones who feel guilty speaking up. This friend is no different. Looks at you like a deer about to get rearranged by a car, all wide, panicked eyes and a tight-lipped smile, only polite out of obligation.

What happens next is shocking to everyone except Jimin and Yoongi. Safe behind the bar, the two of them watch as you tell the man to fuck off one more time. He refuses, his attention still laser-focused on your friend, reaching for her. Someone appears to his left—another stranger, this one taller and wider in all the right places and exuding far less scumbag energy—and places a large hand on his shoulder. Leans down to say something to him that you don’t catch. Whatever it is, you’re assuming it’s said in that brand of tense politeness men use with other men before they threaten to knock them out.

Regardless of what’s said, the original douchebag just snorts derisively, jutting his shoulder backwards to get the stranger’s hand off of him. This really bothers you, for all the obvious reasons. Why can’t this idiot take no for an answer? What’s his fucking deal?

Apparently you voice the latter out loud, and the bastard is laughing again, lips turned upwards in an ugly little sneer. Far too quickly, you go from bothered but mostly in control to seeing red and cocking back. All because the mint-haired bartender hadn’t mixed your drinks. Now you’re punching some pushy asshole in the jaw and are probably going to get arrested.

“Oh shit,” you hear, but it sounds like you’re underwater. It’s certainly not a voice you recognize, but you only know one person in this bar and you just punched someone to make sure she didn’t get harassed by some asshole who couldn’t take a fucking hint.

Pain erupts in your hand. There’s probably something broken, maybe multiple somethings, but you don’t have much time to dwell on it before someone’s grabbing you by the elbow and dragging you out of the bar.

A shame, you think; you’d really like to see how much of a pissbaby that guy turns into when he catches sight of his own blood.

“I hope you’re proud of yourself.”

You groan. Whatever room you’re in is far too bright and far too loud, which means you’re probably at home already being lectured by Hoseok. You crack an eye open, and—yep, that’s Hoseok, usual human embodiment of sunshine who is now staring at you like a grumpy little rain cloud. “What’re you talking about?” you grumble, fingers flying to your temples to ease some of the throbbing pain.

Hoseok must be pretty pissed, because he just watches you clutch at your aching head and doesn’t say a word. Usually you can guilt trip him into making you coffee and buttered toast. Grabbing you some pain killers, at the very least, but he’s not budging. You swallow hard.

“Do you remember anything from last night?”

“Not really,” you answer. You’ve been awake for approximately three seconds and your two brain cells haven’t connected to form a rational thought yet, let alone conjure up whatever shenanigans you got into the night before. “I think I went out for drinks with the new hire from work, but that’s it.”

“Mehmehmeh but that’s it,” Hoseok mimics under his breath, voice pitched far too high to ever pass as yours, looking more and more incensed by the second. Everyone told you he’d be too neurotic to live with. You should’ve listened. “Do you remember drinking too much and punching a guy?”

Ah, that would explain why your hand is fifty shades of purple, you think. “Ah, that would explain why my hand is fifty shades of purple,” you say.

Hoseok looks like he’s ready to explode. “Can you fucking take this seriously,” he seethes. “You’re too old to be getting wasted and starting bar fights! What in the actual fuck is wrong with you? You broke a man’s nose, you fucking maniac! What if he calls the cops? God, what if he sues you? Do you have lawsuit money? Because I sure as fuck don’t, not that I would bail you out of jail for this, anyway, because you don’t deserve it—”

“I broke someone’s nose?” Far too late, you realize you should’ve kept that proud wonder out of your voice.

Hoseok’s up and screeching before you can plug your ears. “You are un-fucking-believable! I have to leave. I can’t sit here another second and listen to this.” He’s fussing over his clothes and hair as soon as he’s on his feet, distress seeping out of every pore. “There’s fresh coffee in the pot and I made sure to save you two slices of bread,” he grits out, as if it’s causing him immense pain to be nice to you right now, before adding, “and there’s also aspirin and water on your nightstand. I would not recommend taking it on an empty stomach.”

And then he’s gone.

You microwave the mug of coffee and choke down the toast that’s grown suspiciously hard. You swallow two aspirin with coffee even though you know better and should be drinking the water, but the water has been sitting out for god knows how long and probably has dust particles and other gross things in it. You take a long shower to wash away the bar grime and hangover remnants and nearly crumble to the floor in pain when you try to wash your hair.

Right, your hand.

It’d been easy enough to ignore when you were focusing on not vomiting and taking your painkillers, but not so much anymore. Even if Hoseok hadn’t told you you’d punched someone, you could’ve pieced that much together—the bruising is severe and the swelling even more so. Trying to bend your fingers feels like a fate worse than death, so you salvage your shower as best you can before getting dressed one-handed and ordering an Uber to the nearest urgent care.

Which, much to your horror, is packed.

Every seat is taken except for one next to a man with a baseball cap pulled low and a thawed-out ice pack in his hand. He doesn’t acknowledge you when you sit next to him, and you’re almost offended until you spot the AirPods in his ears. God, he must’ve been here forever if he’s brave enough to plug his ears in a place that unashamedly sends you to the back of the line if you don’t answer when your name is called.

You need to know what you’re getting into, so you tap him on the shoulder and ask, “Hey, how long have you been here?”

The man seems flustered. He reaches for his phone and sends it plummeting to the floor, and when he retrieves it you notice the screen is cracked to hell so this must be a common occurrence. “Oh, uh. I’m not sure,” he says, voice all nasally like he’s got a bad cold. “Maybe two hours or so?”

You groan. “Two hours? Are you for real?” He just nods, still not meeting your eye. You pull out your phone, too, then, and put in the web address for the hospital. “D’you think the wait times are less shitty at the ER?”

“Maybe.”

“You didn’t look? No offense, but you sound pretty awful. I figured you’d want to get whatever it is taken care of sooner rather than later.”

The man snorts. Sounds painful. “Yeah, well. I work at a shitty nonprofit and the only insurance tier I could afford had a two-thousand-dollar deductible, so I’ll take my chances here.”

You hum in sympathy. “Do you believe in karma and reincarnation and all that? Because I do, and I think I must’ve been pretty fucking terrible in a past life to be born in a country without free healthcare in this lifetime.” The man beside you grunts in agreement. “Like, shit. What if I was Norwegian in a past life? Or, like, Canadian?”

“Only worth being Canadian if you’re not Indigenous.”

“Hm, yeah, that’s true. What human rights violations have the Norwegians committed?”

“No clue.”

“I’m gonna Google it,” you decide. Then, a second later, “Not great being Indigenous in Norway, either.”

“Is everyone shitty?” the man asks, pressing the warm ice pack back to his face. You wince on his behalf.

“Yeah.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you watch him pause his music. An album cover you don’t recognize, because this guy definitely strikes you as the underground type: paid Spotify account with immaculate playlists full of artists no one else has heard of, either. Probably imports half of his own shit, too, so his playlists only work on his own phone and everyone yells at him when they try to play his playlists and get nothing but silence.

“What about you?” he asks, and it’s a question that should sound greasy but just sounds really sad with his clogged nose. “Are you shitty?”

“Yep,” you answer instantly, holding up your hand. You’d managed to wrangle an elastic bandage around it, but the bruising is obvious and not easily hidden.

The man whistles. “Damn, how’d you do that?”

“Punched a guy in a bar fight, apparently.”

In hindsight, it should be obvious, the cruel joke the universe is playing on you: you, with your mottled, probably-broken hand; the man next to you, with a black eye and an ice pack pressed to his nose. Right church, wrong pew, your mother always used to say about you, and you’d taken it then as a nod to your creativity and ingenuity, but now you’re thinking you might just be fucking stupid.

Because the atmosphere immediately shifts. The man goes stiff, pauses, tenses his shoulders. Then he asks, “Yeah? What bar? I might’ve heard about it.”

And you might be fucking stupid but you’re not dumb, so you just shrug. “Oh, I don’t know,” you reply, doing your best impression of a person with nothing between their ears. “My coworker dragged me out, and I like her fine, y’know, but if I’m being honest, I don’t know how long she’s gonna last. I think she’s too nice. Well, I thought she was too nice, but then she invited me out for drinks and invited me to this crazy bar with horrible, violent people—”

“And you punched someone,” the man finishes for you, cutting short your tirade.

“Supposedly punched someone,” you correct. “I have no recollection of it, but that’s what my roommate said. He was shrieking and used his Serious Mom Voice so I’m inclined to believe him, though.” You try to wiggle your fingers and have to suppress a scream. “Plus I can’t move my hand, so there’s that.”

This is the part where you get yelled at. You can feel it. The man beside you is about to blow up, demand your name and phone number so he can report you for assault, probably also demand some money because he’d just talked about his god-awful insurance and you’re the entire reason he’s here, but the universe may be cruel but it’s also fair, because—

“Nam…joon?” a bored medical assistant calls out. The man startles, curses under his breath that no one even attempts to pronounce his name correctly, drops his phone again, and if you weren’t glued to your chair in fear you might’ve picked it up for him.

Namjoon stands—he’s fucking massive, and if this is the guy you actually punched, you’ll spare a second later to marvel at yourself—and looks down at you. Sends you the meanest, most murderous glare he can muster, clenched jaw and all, and then he’s disappearing behind a door.

You… feel bad.

It’s not like you’d meant to punch him. You hadn’t wanted to punch anyone! And that has to count for something, so when he comes back out you’ll plead your case and offer to buy him a late lunch, because if he’d been waiting hours you’ll be waiting longer, and maybe he’ll find you just endearing enough to forget that you’d broken his nose and the two of you will become friends. You’ll do the Best Person speech at his wedding and laugh about the time you’d punched him, or maybe you’d be marrying him and—

Pump the brakes.

You love a good enemies-to-lovers, but maybe not so much in real life.

The wait is torturous.

An hour ticks by. You text Hoseok, tell him about the man you’d met and ask if he thinks it’s The Guy, and Hoseok writes back with a very pointed, I fucking hope it is. You’re not sure what that means. Does he hope Namjoon is the guy so you can apologize? So you can make sure he’s okay? Surely he wouldn’t be hoping for Namjoon to even the score and break your nose, too, but he was really mad this morning so you wouldn’t put it past him.

Another half hour. If you’d been paying attention, you would’ve realized how eerily quiet the waiting room has grown. No idle chatter, no coughing, no pained groans. People seem to be going in but not coming out, and you’ve been paying attention to that much, at least, so you can catch Namjoon.

And then the door slams open.

Namjoon stands there, nose stuffed with a cartoonish amount of gauze and a large splint across the bridge. He’s breathing hard. Looks like he’d just ran a marathon, which doesn’t make sense because how large can the backend of an urgent care really be, but then his eyes found you and—

“Run,” is all he says.

Nothing good happens when a man you’d accidentally knocked out in a bar fight tells you to run. Fucking stupid but not dumb, though, so you’re up and out of your seat before he can repeat himself.

Although you’re not sure where you’re supposed to go. You’d taken an Uber, and you can’t really order an emergency one of those. Besides, all Namjoon had said was run but not why, so you’re also not sure if it even is an emergency.

So here you are, standing in the middle of the parking lot like a bozo while Namjoon fumbles with the keys to a pickup truck. “Hey!” you call out, stomping towards him. “Are you gonna tell me what the fuck’s going on?”

Namjoon looks up only long enough to catch your eye. “You need to get out of here,” is all he says. Which is supremely and deservedly unhelpful.

“Why? I ca—I took an Uber here, I don’t have a car. I don’t know where I’m supposed to go or why I had to run out of there or if this is DEFCON 5 or DEFCON 1—”

“One,” Namjoon answers. “It’s definitely DEFCON 1.” Door unlocked, Namjoon meets your gaze again, deadly serious. “I’m not fucking around. You need to get out of here. Right now.”

This has to be a joke. He’s mad you’d broken his nose and now he’s getting his revenge. Still, you’re not all that keen to pay hundreds of dollars in medical bills for them to tell you something you already know, so you’ll play along. “Fine. Can I get a ride, then?”

“No.”

“So it’s an emergency but you won’t give me a ride.”

Namjoon glares at you. “You broke my fucking nose!”

“But I also broke my own hand, so we’re even.” It’s absolutely not a fair trade, but Namjoon seems to chew it over nonetheless. “Hey, c’mon, you wouldn’t leave me here! You’d feel too guilty.”

“How would you know?”

“Because you work at a nonprofit and care about human rights violations, and I am a human with rights, and it’d definitely be a violation to leave me here in a DEFCON 1-level emergency when I don’t even know what’s going on—”

Namjoon slaps a hand over your mouth. A large hand. A very, very large hand that easily covers half of your face. You’ll blame your pathetic whimper on fear. “I saw some shit in there, okay?”

“What kind of shit, though. Urgent cares are weird. Ominous little vortexes where reality is altered. You ever been in one at night? Like 28 Days Later vibes—”

“Yes!” Namjoon snaps his fingers. “Yes, that! Exactly like that!”

Your relief is palpable. You sag a little. “Oh! So it was just weird in there? What, did you get a creepy doctor or something?”

“No.” He groans. Runs his hands down his face. “Not the vibes part, the—”

“The zombie part?” you whisper.

Just then, the entrance slams open, people pouring into the parking lot. Most are screaming, which prompts you to scream in response, so Namjoon screams too and drops his keys. You’re picking them up before you can think twice, pulling the door open and pushing him inside of the truck. There’s something to be said about the way you manhandle him, how ripped his back feels through the thin fabric of his t-shirt and the view of his ass as he climbs over the center and into the passenger seat, but whatever weird shit is going on takes precedence.

You climb in behind him. Shut the door and lock it, and then you’re rolling down the window to adjust the side mirrors while Namjoon just shoots you an exasperated look. “We don’t have time for this!”

“Do you want us to crash and die? I’ve seen movies like this, okay, and someone always dies some stupid, avoidable death because they forget something obvious.”

“Yeah, it’s usually don’t read the weird Latin incantation in that book or don’t go outside to investigate weird noises, not checking your mirrors!” He pauses. “Hey, wait! They’re not even your mirrors! You’re fucking up all my shit!”

You roll your eyes. “Shut up. I’m getting us out of here.”

During Namjoon’s stunned silence, you turn the ignition and peel out of the parking lot as best you can with one good hand, tailspinning onto the main road, tires squealing. “That was… kind of hot.”

“What, me telling you to shut up or my driving?”

“...Both?”

“I—yeah, that’s fair. You’re big, but you seem like the type to enjoy getting pushed around.” Namjoon stays quiet, and when you dare a glance over at him, his cheeks are red. “Did you get a boner when I punched you?”

That actually gets a laugh out of him. “Don’t go there.” You shrug.

The two of you drive for a while. There’s nothing in the rearview mirror. No one behind you. Really, the world around you seems normal, quiet, still. It almost has you second-guessing everything you’d seen, all the things Namjoon had said. And you don’t know him beyond breaking his nose, but everything in you is screaming to trust him.

So you do.

“Hey, do you mind if we swing by my place? It’s, like, two minutes away, and I should probably grab some stuff.”

Namjoon just shrugs.

Surprisingly, there’s very little time to panic. Namjoon sets about grabbing whatever he can from the kitchen and the bathroom while you shove clothes into a large duffel. You grab your laptop and chargers and Namjoon’s scoff is loud when you ask if you should bring your vibrator, too, but he doesn’t say no, so into the bag it goes.

Hoseok comes home in the midst of your ransacking. You meet him in the living room and, aside from the small look of confusion, he seems much happier to see you than he’d been this morning. “Hi,” he says. Sounds normal, too. Doesn’t sound like he’d seen some weird apocalypse shit outside. “Where is there a tall man in our kitchen shoving all our food into bags?”

“Ah, right, that.” You suck in a breath. “Hobi, go pack up whatever you care about and meet us back here in five minutes. There’s some Train to Busan shit going on and we’ve gotta get moving.”

“Yo, what the fuck!” Namjoon yells from the kitchen. “Are you just saying that because I’m Korean?”

Hoseok had looked dubious before, but seems to fall into blind trust upon hearing the strange, tall man in his kitchen is also Korean. “Hey, me too!” When Namjoon comes skittering into the living room, they shoot matching finger guns at one another and do a weird bro-dap. “Oh!” Hoseok says, recognition blooming. “Are you the guy? The nose guy?”

Namjoon just glares at you.

“That’s him,” you answer instead. “Go pack, please. I’m serious.”

Hoseok is scared of everything: spiders, his shadow, carousel animals, your neighbor’s dog because it’s fifteen years old and blind and lost half its fur. He once had nightmares for a week after you’d made him watch the first Goosebumps movie and insisted on sleeping in your room. Had nightmares again after he saw a particularly sinister Squishmallow at Wal-Mart. So, yeah. It’s imperative you convince him to come with you because he stands no chance on his own.

You don’t expect him to shrug and go off to pack.

“Hey, did one of you grab any ibuprofen?”

“Yeah, got it,” Namjoon replies.

“What about allergy medicine? I get really bad sinus headaches so I’ll be miserable without it, but if it’s too much I guess I could—”

“Pack it,” you shout back.

There’s a loud crash from his room. Another smaller one seconds later. “I’m fine!” he calls out. “Hey, cool! I found a bag of Twizzlers!”

“Hoseok—”

“Bring the Twizzlers, please!” Namjoon says, cheeks warming again. “What? I like them.”

It’s your turn to glare. “If I get eaten over some goddamn Twizzlers.”

“At least you’d be strawberry flavored?” Namjoon offers, as unhelpful as ever. Then, before you can respond, “Hey, man, are you almost ready? I texted my roommate and he’s good to go but I still need to pack up all my shit, too.”

“One sec!”

Approximately fifteen seconds later, Hoseok reappears in your living room with a bookbag, a duffel bag, and an oversized rolling suitcase.

“This isn’t a vacation, Hobi,” you deadpan.

He looks at you like you’re a moron. Fucking stupid but not dumb, you remind yourself. “Okay, but I’m not leaving all my nice clothes here to get eaten by zombie moths or whatever. There’s Off-White in here.”

Namjoon nods in understanding. “Valid.”

It’s not worth the argument. The three of you pile back into Namjoon’s truck, you stuck in the middle of the bench seat this time while Namjoon drives. Hoseok babbles the entire way, seemingly unfazed by this bizarre situation in which you’ve found yourselves. He tells you about the cafe he’d met a friend at, the latte he ordered and didn’t like. You can only tell he’s starting to get nervous because he devolves into more and more unhinged chatter. One second he’s telling you about a dog he saw wearing a little sweater and the next he’s rattling off the digits to his social security number.

“Forget you heard that,” you say to Namjoon.

He looks pained as he replies, “Unfortunately I have a god-tier echoic memory so I am physically incapable of doing that.” He feels your stare. “I’m really sorry, I can’t help it! Tell me something else so I forget it!”

“Okay: I think you’re about to run over that guy.”

Namjoon jerks his eyes back to the road and gasps, hitting the brakes so hard Hobi nearly goes flying into the dashboard. He’s moaning, bitching about his seatbelt probably breaking a few ribs, and the tiny man standing in the road in front of you hasn’t budged an inch. Stared death right in the eye and dared it to take him.

“Fucking Jimin,” Namjoon curses. At both your and Hoseok’s blank stares, he clarifies, “My roommate.”

“Is that seriously your roommate?” Hoseok asks, still pressing against his ribs to check for fractures.

Namjoon, huffing and puffing and finally at a complete stop, just nods. “Yeah.”

Hoseok is finally silent. Then, “That tiny, terrifying little man is your roommate and you managed to get knocked out in a bar fight? What, was he busy that night?”

There’s an obvious reply on the tip of Namjoon’s tongue, but before he can spit it out the tiny man is banging his fist against the window. “I’m gonna fucking kill you!” he screams. “Open the door so I can kill you! Did you not see me? I told you I’d be waiting by the mailbox! I even packed all your shit for you and this is how you repay me, by almost hitting me with your stupid truck? You’re fucking cra—wait, who are these people?”

Hoseok, obviously scared shitless, grimaces as he waves hesitantly. “Hi!” you say, though Namjoon’s roommate probably can’t hear you through the thick glass. “I’m the person who broke his nose!”

Then the roommate is smiling. “Oh, that was you? You look different than I remember.”

When you look to Namjoon for answers, you find him slumped against the steering wheel. “Jimin’s a bartender,” is the only explanation you get.

You look out the window again. Small, but no mint-colored hair. “Ah, I had my suspicions about him. …I think.”

Namjoon cranks down the window just enough to tell Jimin he’ll have to hop in the bed with all the luggage, and then the four of you are off again. There’s one more stop, to Jimin’s boyfriend’s place to pick up him and his roommate, and all you can do is hope one of them has a larger vehicle.

Just like before, this drive is suspiciously unremarkable. You’ve long since resigned yourself to believing Namjoon and what little he’d told you, but you can tell Hoseok’s skeptical. Along for the ride, of course, because there’s always the small chance you hadn’t been lying and then he would’ve been knee-deep in shit, but skeptical nonetheless.

“Can I just ask—are you sure about this?” He’s looking out the window. Looking at all the normal cars and houses and businesses. Nothing about the outside world screams looming zombie apocalypse at all. “It seems pretty quiet.”

Namjoon sighs. Grips the steering wheel a little tighter, knuckles flashing white, but he seems okay. Adrenaline, maybe. It’ll hit later. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

“You saw something?” Hoseok prods.

“I—” He nudges you. “Did you notice how most of the people in the waiting room just seemed to have bad colds? Sneezing, coughing, all that?” You nod. “I didn’t really think anything of it since it’s still flu season, but once I got called back, everything just felt… off.”

He sucks in a breath. Keeps driving. Keeps talking. The nurse who’d taken his vitals seemed exhausted. Cracked some joke about being glad Namjoon was there for a broken nose and not whatever respiratory thing was going around. Told him a doctor would be in shortly to patch him up, and when she left his room she hadn’t shut the door all the way. Left enough of a crack for Namjoon to see what was going on: frazzled nurses and doctors and techs huddled around, panicking. Namjoon thinks someone called for an ambulance.

True to her word, a doctor did come in to pack and splint his nose. Then, in the middle of jotting down the name and phone number of his pharmacy, a scream.

“An old man came in. I saw him when they took me back. He was just sitting on a bed because it was so crowded, wasn’t in a room. I guess at some point he passed out. Didn’t have a pulse. I think he was who they called the ambulance for, but while I was waiting for the doctor I kept hearing this weird moaning.”

Hoseok shudders. “Yeah, I know where this is going.”

“Right. So the doctor comes in, fixes me up, and next thing I know, someone’s screaming. Guess that old dude wasn’t as dead as they thought he was.”

“Could they have been wrong?” you ask tentatively. It’s so quiet outside, maybe everyone had just—

“No,” Namjoon says, and he does it with so much conviction you don’t argue further. Jimin bangs on the back windshield, holding his phone up to it so you can see.

It’s all over Twitter. Not even Facebook, where you’d expect a zombie apocalypse conspiracy to begin. No, there are posts all over Twitter and Instagram and even the local news station’s website. Hoseok looks a little green.

“Okay, so it’s definitely real and this is definitely happening,” you mutter. “Does anyone have a plan?”

There’s no plan.

Not even in a hyperbolic, we say we have no plan, but somehow we’ve conveniently got a small arsenal of weapons, kind of way. There’s simply no plan.

Jimin’s boyfriend is named Taehyung. They have a needlessly tearful reunion, and you wait in Taehyung’s tiny kitchen for twenty minutes while he packs. He’s roommates with the mint-haired bartender that you like. His name is Yoongi. He has all his stuff packed and waiting by the front door, and you like him so much more for it.

“Should I pack condoms?” Taehyung yells from his bedroom.

“Are you fucking ser—” Yoongi starts, then seems to come to a realization. “Yeah. Yes, you absolutely should.”

“‘Kay! Be out in a sec!”

Namjoon appears then, in the midst of shoving his battered phone in his pocket. He looks around the room, taking stock, and his eyebrows knit in confusion. Fuck, he’s so hot and you’re taking the express train to hell for thinking it. “Hey, has anyone seen Jimin?”

Jimin and Taehyung are gone. There are weird noises coming from the direction of Taehyung’s room. Yoongi looks positively haunted. “Sorry!” Jimin calls out. “Be out in a sec!”

“Tae said that exact thing five minutes ago!”

“Are you calling him a liar?” Jimin yells back. Sounds genuinely angry and genuinely prepared to defend Taehyung’s honor. You’ve never met a tinier, scarier person.

“I’m calling you both zombie food!”

Hoseok sidles up next to you. “Is it just me or is that other tiny man really hot?”

“His name’s Yoongi,” you tell him.

Hoseok just sighs, like he’s carrying all of the world’s burdens on his thin shoulders. “I’m learning a lot about myself.”

You watch him mentally tabulate through all the stages of grief while Namjoon and Yoongi think up a plan. Namjoon’s large but clumsy and mostly useless, and Yoongi is small and deadly. You can hold your own, they decide, so Yoongi adopts Hoseok and Namjoon becomes your problem.

“Wait a second,” Hoseok almost wails. “Why can’t I stay with her? She’s my roommate!”

Yoongi looks offended. Probably is. “You don’t think I can defend you?”

Hoseok flushes crimson. “I-I didn’t say that…”

He’s halfway through a stuttered, awkward apology when Jimin and Taehyung appear, not at all looking like they’d just been getting off together. Sure, Jimin’s hair is a little mussed, but Taehyung—

Taehyung is only holding a box.

Yoongi pinches the bridge of his nose. “Taehyung.”

“Please don’t use that tone of voice with me,” Taehyung whines. “You know this is my emotional support jigsaw puzzle.”

“All you’re bringing is a jigsaw puzzle?”

“And condoms!”

“You’re not bringing any clothes? Medicine? Food?” Namjoon asks, because he might not be the oldest but he has the most overworked single mother energy out of all of you. “Jimin, go help him pack a bag of clothes, at least. Yoongi, can you grab any extra house stuff and toiletries you have laying around? Laundry detergent, soap, shampoo.”

Taehyung scoffs, sound dissipating as he disappears back down the hallway. “We can just steal that stuff.”

Hoseok looks like he’s about to pass out. “I am not turning into a criminal!”

He does.

You all do.

The six of you pile into two separate vehicles—you and Hoseok with Namjoon again in his truck, and Jimin and Taehyung behind you in Yoongi’s beater car. The plan is to drive to Namjoon’s cousin’s house in the middle of nowhere and bunker down there for a while. It’s plenty big—“His parents are politicians, so he’s got money,” was Namjoon’s explanation—and far enough outside of the city that it should buy you enough time to come up with something better.

Step one, though: Wal-Mart.

“Don’t worry, I steal from here all the time,” Taehyung says, breezing to the front of the pack like he’s leading the rest of you into war. Yoongi throws his hands up. Jimin looks lovestruck.

Hoseok hangs back by the cars, still traumatized from the Squishmallow experience, and you stay with him. You’ve seen Zombieland, and you won’t be able to do much fighting with a broken hand. At best you’d be able to fire a gun or whack someone with a pipe, but you’re not trying to go kamikaze mode on some innocent bastard in a Wal-Mart who’s also just trying to survive.

You’ve known Hoseok for a long time—since your sophomore year of college, when he was failing the stats class you shared and you took pity on him and offered some tutoring—so you’ve seen him in various states of distress. You know all of his tells, and the way he’s gnawing at his cuticles is a glaring one.

“Hobi, hey,” you say, moving to gently pull his hand away from his mouth. “Try to relax, okay? Don’t make yourself bleed.”

“I feel like I’m gonna be sick,” he replies. Anguish is clear on his face. “Everything feels fucking overwhelming and scary.”

“I know. I know it does, but if we’re gonna get through this we’re gonna need you, all right?” He nods but he’s shaking, still looking tormented and green around the edges. You pull him into a hug that has him nearly sagging in defeat.

Slowly, your shoulder grows wet and warm. Hoseok’s crying, body shaking from the weight of all his fear, and all you can do is hold him. “You’re my best friend, Hoseok,” you whisper into his hair. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

You feel him nod. Then, in the smallest voice, “Yoongi too?”

Figures. Hoseok’s a horny little demon at the best of times—the thin walls of your apartment can attest to that—so it makes sense that impending doom would exacerbate it. “Sure, Hobi,” you assure him, scratching softly at his scalp.

You get him calmed down. Tucked into the backseat of Yoongi’s car so he can lay down. He’s asleep not long after, fatigue finally catching up, and you just stay. Park your ass at the edge of the seat, leave the door open, waiting. There’s a gentle, warm breeze, and you wish you could bottle it. Wish you could do more in this moment than just experience it, because it’s the last chance you’ll have at something resembling normalcy.

You might never be able to hug Hoseok in a parking lot again.

“We’re back!”

You look up, not at all surprised to see Taehyung skipping towards you, arms full of stolen goods. “I see that. What’d you get?”

“Oh, a lot of stuff,” he answers. Yoongi pops the trunk of his car and they set about shoving it all inside. “It was packed in there! Felt like Black Friday, except everyone was fighting over bread instead of ultra hi-def TVs.”

Wary, you look over your motley crew. “Are you all okay?”

“Yeah,” Yoongi answers, voice gruff. “It was mostly civilized. Don’t think people really realize what’s going on yet. Is Hoseok sleeping?”

You nod. “He, uh—had a moment? He got really upset, so he’s sleeping it off… if that’s okay?”

Yoongi just shrugs. “Yeah, whatever. Who’s riding with me?”

“Me,” Jimin says. “I’m not taking the bitch seat in the truck.” Taehyung immediately pouts, some unspoken bond clearly broken now, and Jimin scoffs. “Don’t pout at me. You know my ass requires a full seat.”

“But—”

Namjoon pointedly slams Yoongi’s trunk closed. Hoseok doesn’t stir an inch. “Jin’s expecting us so we need to get moving. Taehyung, shut up and get in the truck.” Then, to you: “Guess you’re with me again.”

Fine by you, especially since Namjoon ripped the sleeves off his shirt.

Not even Namjoon’s arms can salvage this drive.

Taehyung fiddles with the radio the whole time. Flips between radio stations that are all depressing carbon copies of one another. Complains that Namjoon’s truck is too old to have a CD player and that he doesn’t know how to work cassette tapes. Complains endlessly about Namjoon’s driving, too, although you can’t really blame him for that one.

“Hey,” he eventually says, elbowing you a little too hard in your side. “I don’t wanna be rude or anything, but—”

Namjoon tries to snort and immediately regrets it. “I don’t wanna be rude or anything, but I’m about to say something extremely rude.”

“I was not!” Taehyung defends, but when you quirk an eyebrow at him to continue, he says, “Are you willing to sacrifice yourself for me and Jimin in the unlikely event that the three of us are cornered by a zombie and are facing imminent death and only two will survive? Because I think you should be.”

You blink. “Um.”

“It just makes the most sense logically,” he continues, as if he hadn’t just volunteered you to be a zombie chew toy. “Jimin and I are soulmates. Platonic and romantic. And you’re—” He pauses. “Um. New. And Jimin might not look like it because he’s small, but he’s scrappy and can easily protect me, which means you’re redundant. Not to mention your hand is broken, so.”

You study him. “So, what are you bringing to the table?” you ask. Taehyung looks at you like you’re stupid. “I’m just saying, if Jimin and I can both defend ourselves, why wouldn’t we team up in the name of long-term survival and ditch the weakest link, which would be you?”

Namjoon laughs loudly beside you. His whole body shakes with it, a sound somewhere between a guffaw and a dog panting, and it’s a nice contrast to the death glare Taehyung’s sending you. “Jimin wouldn’t do that to me.”

“People are unpredictable when they’re staring death in the face.”

Taehyung’s silent the rest of the way.

It hurts to admit it, but you’re rethinking your all-politicians-are-evil, eat-the-rich stance, because it starts like—

(Seokjin’s parents’ place is truly in the middle of nowhere and safeguarded to the nth degree, harder to get close to than Area 51. The house itself is deceptively large and modern, clapped in black-stained red cedar. Single-level. Expansive windows you’d thought were an oversight until you got closer and realized they were made of armored glass.

“Shit, is all of this really necessary?” you ask, stepping inside. There’s definitely insider trading going on here. “Are these people on the goddamn Supreme Court?”

“That’s not funny,” Namjoon says.

“Are you sure? Because I’m pretty sure that”—you point to a nondescript door with an ominous symbol on it—”is some kind of rich people bomb shelter and the only politicians I know that would require this level of security are the I just voted to strip half the country of the ability to make their own reproductive decisions kind.”

Namjoon chokes.

“Gross,” a voice chimes from behind you. “Please don’t debase and sully my parents’ good name by even joking that they’re conservatives.”

Jesus, is everyone in this family stupidly attractive? The man before you is shorter than Namjoon but still tall, legs as long as his shoulders are wide. Hair styled neat but dyed blond. Kind eyes and plush lips, and there’s the Kim family resemblance.

“Hi, I’m Seokjin,” he says, offering you his hand. Definitely raised in a family of politicians. “I hear you’re the one who broke my cousin’s nose.”

“I, uh, might’ve done that, yeah.”

Seokjin smiles. “Cool. Welcome. Please make yourself at home and we’ll chat strategy later.”)

Which becomes—

(Later turns into days.

For the most part, life proceeds normally. Seokjin gets periodic updates from his parents who have left the country entirely—(“Damn, they just left you here?” someone asks, and that’s how you meet Jungkook)—about the government response, or lack thereof, along with whatever useless psychobabble the CDC is sending out. None of it bodes well for the future, so you spend most of your time trying to stay in the present. Right now, you’re okay. Right now, you’re with a group of people hellbent on staying alive. Right now, you have enough food and shelter in a house in the middle of nowhere with armored glass windows and a bomb shelter.

The eight of you eat meals together and play games and talk about your Before lives. You already knew Namjoon worked at a nonprofit and that Jimin and Yoongi owned a bar, but you learn Taehyung was in grad school for art therapy. Hoseok, of course, split his time between the dance studio and the streetwear boutique his sister owned. Seokjin was some bigwig corporate attorney.

Jungkook, of all things, played minor league baseball.

Needless to say there won’t be any scientific breakthroughs from any of you.

“I was supposed to go pro this year,” Jungkook huffs, forcefully grabbing the microphone for the karaoke machine. He’s been singing “I Will Survive” by Gloria Gaynor for four days.

All things considered, you somehow managed to fall into the best possible outcome, even if one of Taehyung or Jimin still tries to convince you to sacrifice yourself at least six times a day.)

Which culminates in the one possible downside—

“Yoongi wants Hoseok to move into my room,” Namjoon says, appearing in the doorway of your (now-solo, apparently) room. He takes up nearly the entire frame. It makes you feel a little lightheaded.

“Oh,” you reply stupidly. “Okay. Are you here for his stuff?”

“No, I’m here to ask if I can move in with you. I’m not really interested in spending the rest of the zombie apocalypse third-wheeling.”

Sarcasm seems like your best defense. “Wow, after all we’ve been through. We’ve got a real enemies to lovers vibe going on. I’m pretty into it.”

Namjoon flushes down to his toes. “Haaa, what? We’re—that’s not—we’re not even lovers yet.”

You give him a second, but he doesn’t seem to realize what he’s said, so you can’t help but smirk, to press on the bruise just to watch him squeal. “Yet?”

Now he turns full-on crimson. “That’s not what I meant.”

Somehow he’s still cute, even with the yellow-green bruising beneath his eyes and his sheepish, hunched posture. Namjoon is the kind of guy that makes you feel bold, makes you want to mess him up, but he’s also the kind of cute that has you relenting, easing off.

“Sure,” you finally say. “You can move your stuff in here.”

He smiles, dimples flashing, and he’s only gone a few minutes so you have no time to catch your breath before he’s back, dumping his clothes on the bed to put them in the dresser. He doesn’t mention sleeping arrangements because there’s no point: all of the bedrooms have single, queen-sized beds. Naturally, you and Hoseok had bunked together with little fuss, having fallen asleep in each other’s beds a million times after years spent living together. You assume it’d been the same for Namjoon and Yoongi and their decades of friendship.

You’d joked about being enemies to lovers; clearly you’d chosen the wrong trope.

“How’s your nose?” you ask, wordlessly moving to help sort and refold the t-shirts as best you can. They smell nice: something soft and clean and inherently Namjoon.

“Still sore,” he answers. Says a small thank you when you push a stack of black tees towards him. “Jungkook’s been helping me with the packing.”

“He’s had a lot of broken noses?”

“He’s had a lot of broken everything.”

It hits you, then, how much of an outsider you are. That the six of them are all connected, have history. And Namjoon must notice, because he grows serious. Gets shy all over again when he says, “Hey, we’re all glad you and Hoseok are here.”

You snort. “Yeah, as a sacrifice.”

Namjoon laughs a little, too. “Taehyung’s only so insistent because he’s useless. He accidentally stepped on a stink bug once and cried. He’s not really built for something like this.”

“Are any of us?”

“You are, I think,” he says immediately, no hesitation. “You’ve been really calm, haven’t panicked at all. It’s helped me a lot—all of us, really.”

Oh, you’re embarrassed. “I have to be, living with someone like Hobi.” Why are you embarrassed? “One time he saw the red light on the coffee machine and slept in my room for a week because he thought there was a demon in our apartment.”

Namjoon can’t help himself. “Was there?”

You sigh, over-dramatic and theatrical. “No, just me.”

He laughs, loud and unashamed, but it sounds a lot more like everything’s going to be fine.

Hoseok had been a cuddler.

You’d always wake up with him wound around you like a snake, limbs akimbo as he snored quietly. But, like all things Hoseok did and does, there was grace in it. He kept a normal body temperature. He didn’t hog too much of the bed or the duvet. He didn’t kick you or elbow you in the side of the head. Aside from the cuddling, which has never really been your thing, Hoseok was a perfect bed-sharing partner.

The same cannot be said for Namjoon.

His broken nose has him snoring at obscene levels. It doesn’t lessen when you shove a pillow over your head, either, which is not the way you fantasized about going lightheaded in bed with him. Not to mention his stupidly large body is stupidly large and requires a lot of space. What had started as a clean split down the middle has you grasping to the edge, trying desperately not to fall off. Every time you try to inch closer to the center, Namjoon unconsciously protests and sends elbows flying, and arms that size can do a lot of damage. He sleeps so hot you always wake up in a thin sheen of sweat just from the proximity.

You’re not sure you sleep at all for the first three days.

And then things start to shift. Like your roommate, Namjoon is a cuddler too, but in vastly different ways. Hoseok’s would be subconscious—he never dared to touch you when he was awake out of respect for boundaries and personal space, but Namjoon doesn’t have those hangups. He climbs into bed one night and immediately fits himself to your back before asking if it’s okay, and yeah, of course it is. You couldn’t have waterboarded Hoseok into touching you purposely the way Namjoon does casually, so unthinking, just does what he wants.

It makes you ache.

So you become sleepless for other, new reasons.

His snoring lessens, gives way to these breathy little sounds that border on soft moans. Still obscene. He stops forcing you to the edge of the mattress and instead presses you into it, the weight of his massive body leaving you with nowhere else to go. Every time he touches you, either knowingly or not, he leaves trails of heat in his wake.

Even in sleep, Namjoon is a tease.

Sometimes his hands will drift—too close, too far, both simultaneously—and you feel your breath hitch, wondering if he’s awake, if he’s doing it on purpose. Sometimes you wake up with him wrapped around you, hard cock pressing into your ass, the small of your back. Sometimes he’ll rut once, twice, and come to and disappear to the opposite side of the bed in shame and embarrassment, leaving you frustrated and pretending to be asleep.

Because you’re not… sure.

You know you’re attracted to Namjoon. You know he’s some degree of attracted to you in return. But the outside world is so volatile, the situation you’re in so unstable, that you’re afraid to push. Afraid the delicate house of cards will come tumbling down, that you two will fuck to get it out of your systems and make things horribly awkward, ruin the good thing you’ve got going.

But you can only take so much, is the thing. There’s a very large man with a very large cock at your back and you’ve had enough of this game.

“Namjoon,” you say, rolling in his arms so you’re face to face. You poke him in the stomach when he doesn’t stir. “Namjoon.”

He jolts awake, hands immediately moving to you—checking that you’re still there, that you’re safe. “Wha’?” he slurs, voice thick with sleep, deeper than you’ve ever heard it. “Wha’ happened?”

Now you feel awkward. He’s concerned with your safety in the midst of a fucking apocalypse and you’re just horny. Still, sometimes the only way out is through, so you blurt out, “Do you want to fuck me?”

That grabs his attention. He’s fully awake now, propped up on one elbow, gazing down at you like you’ve completely lost your mind. Fucking stupid but not dumb, like a mantra. “Uh.” He pauses. Swallows. Pushes sweaty hair off his forehead. “Did—did you, uh, get bit? Are you feeling okay?”

You glare, though it’s useless in the dark. “I’m fine. How’s your dick?” You dare a glance downward. Still hard is the answer.

Namjoon embarrasses easily in a way that is both horribly endearing and horribly inconvenient, because instead of feeding you some greasy line like want to find out? he’s reaching down to adjust himself in his sleep shorts, stumbling over apologies as he goes. “Shit, fuck, I’m so sorry, this is so awkward, I’m sorry—”

“Can you answer my question, please?”

Namjoon stills. Puts that giant brain to use. “Um. Which one? You asked me two.”

“Well, I can clearly see that your dick is still very hard, so let’s start with the first one.”

There’s a sound that you think is meant to sound like a laugh. A pained a-haaa that sounds more like Namjoon begging for divine intervention in the form of death. “The, uh, doIwanttofuckyou question?”

“That would be the one, yes.”

“Is… is there a wrong answer?”

“No.”

He nods, tongue darting out to wet his lips. It’s lewd, a cruel and unusual punishment for your fleeting moment of horny delirium. Gets even worse when he tugs the plush bottom one between his teeth, staring at you all the while. Sizing you up, it feels like. Deciding between what he wants to do and what he’s actually going to do.

Just like the last week of your life, everything goes from zero to one hundred in a split-second.

“Do you wanna talk about this first?” he asks. You’re just staring at one another and he already sounds fucked out. Obscene.

“What’s there to talk about?”

He reaches for you. Two fingers beneath your chin and a thumb on the hinge of your jaw to keep you where he wants you. “What you want.” Leans in, his lips so close to your ear. “What you don’t.”

Around you, the world narrows. Nothing exists outside of this bed. Not the weird house in the middle of the woods. Not the apocalypse. Not a goddamn thing except Namjoon and his big hands and the way he’s touching you. “Tell me what you want,” he says, words skimming along the column of your throat, “and I’ll do it.”

You wonder if he’s talking about big-picture shit or just sex. If he’s someone who needs something concrete to hold onto before he fucks or if it even matters anymore. Would he still want to sleep with you if you’d met under different circumstances that night at the bar, or is it just something to pass the time while you wait out the end of the world?

Although, you feel like the world might end if you don’t finally fuck this man, so maybe it doesn’t matter.

“I’m clean and I have an IUD I’ll have to figure out how to remove in three years if I live that long. I’m down for mostly anything as long as you ask first but I draw the line at most bodily fluids. Oh, also—don’t kiss me if your tongue goes anywhere near my ass. I think that’s it, though. What about you?”

Momentarily stunned, Namjoon’s hands stop moving. “I’ve never eaten ass before.”

“Oh. I mean, we totally can if you want to, but—really?”

“Why do you sound so surprised?”

“Because your lips are pornographic,” you admit, completely void of shame. “Like, you have the kind of mouth that looks like it’s done a lot of dirty things.”

Namjoon laughs. “You also said I look like I like getting pushed around.”

You cock an eyebrow. “Do you?”

He’s growing bold. His response is a low chuckle, more vibration than anything, and he reaches for you again. Seems like he can’t keep his hands off of you, needs to be touching you always, even before when it was harmless, and this time he goes for your hips. Fits his large hands to your waist, the tops of your thighs, presses his thumbs into your hip bones. “Most people don’t try.”

“Yeah, that tracks,” you reply dazedly.

His lips move to your neck, trace the neckline of your sleep shirt, dip below to nip at your collarbone. “Where’s your hand, baby?” he speaks into your skin. Finds what he’s looking for and pins your arm above your head, gently like you’ll break. You think you might. “You can push me around when you’re healed. Can I kiss you?”

You must nod, because Namjoon drags his lips from your throat to your jaw to the corner of your mouth, and then he’s pressing them to your own. This is gentle too, Namjoon careful with his own injury, and it’s not lost on you that this is your fault. You’re not going to get the filthy, primal fucking you want because you’d thrown a punch in a bar, but this isn’t a bad consolation prize, you think.

Because Namjoon is good at this. He’s easy to rile up but rock-solid once he pushes past it. And, sure, he kisses you gently, but he means it. Whimpers into your mouth like you’re doing him a favor, and you think you might be able to do this, just this, forever.

Your free hand fists the thin cotton of his shirt as he licks into your mouth. It should be gross, because it’s the middle of the night and you no longer have the luxury of your favorite toothpaste, but you find it hard to care when he drops his weight, that massive body of his pressing into you, against you in all the right ways. This time it’s you who whines, and it’s a small sound but it seems to drive Namjoon a little crazy.

“Wanna hear you,” he says, pulling back, and you’re about to ask him what that means, if he just wants you to start moaning like some bad porn, but then he’s grabbing your leg to wrap it around his waist and pressing his hips to you harder.

“Oh fuck,” you sigh. Even through his sleep shorts you can tell he’s big—big and really fucking hard. Forget a zombie apocalypse, you’re not sure you’ll survive this right here.

What Namjoon wants, Namjoon gets. You’re unabashed as he grinds his cock against your core, careless about your volume. You’ve suffered through almost everyone in this house either fucking or jerking off, and you can take a little ribbing, so you’re going to enjoy this. What’s the point in modesty if you’re all going to die, anyway?

So you just keep babbling, words spilling out of your mouth before you can filter them, writhing and whining all the while. “I know, baby,” Namjoon says, hands all over, mouth not far behind. “Keep going,” he urges, hands to your hips to move you the way he wants.

“Thigh,” you say, barely able to get the word out of your mouth with the way he’s moving against you. “Wan-wanna ride your thigh.”

He keens. “Shit, yeah, okay.”

Namjoon fucks like it’s the end of the world.

You get off on his thigh but he deems it not enough. Strips you bare and situates himself between your legs. Puts that sinful mouth to use and gets you off again. Asks you when the last time you had sex was and laughs at your answer, all condescending heat, and he uses the slick from you and his mouth to stretch you on three of his fingers.

You’re going to ruin this man’s hair once you have two working hands. Maybe just ruin him in general.

The build-up is dizzying. One second he’s slow and sensual, content to take you apart, continuously bring you to the edge just to yank you back—and the next is all feral urgency. He can’t make you come, can’t kick his shorts off, can’t peel his briefs down those thick thighs fast enough.

“Will you ride me?” he asks, so intent on taking your one rule to heart. As long as you ask first. But some things don’t need to be questioned, like when Hobi asks if you want to take an edible and watch the Spice Girls movie and will you sit on Namjoon’s massive dick.

You huff, already halfway in his lap. “Clown question, bro.”

As you sink down onto him, you understand why he’d laughed when you said it’d been awhile, why he got a little cocky. Three fingers hadn’t been anywhere near enough, but the stretch, the overwhelming fullness, is delicious.

“I was go—ah, fuck—gonna suggest you don’t ca-call me bro, but I don’t think I care when you feel this fucking good.”

“Yeah?” you stupidly ask, and you’re usually better at dirty talk, but there’s not much you can do when all of your brainpower is going towards riding the best cock you’ve ever had in your life. “Tell me.”

Namjoon moans, grips your hips to move you again. Back and forth at a steady, torturous pace. “Baby,” he whines. “Feels like one of those wa-water wiggler toys—”

Okay, so clearly neither of you are at your best right now.

And that’s how it goes. You brace yourself on Namjoon’s chest, nails of your good hand digging into his pec, your broken one held in his. Time seems to drag on forever and stop all at once, and you’re oversensitive and admittedly a little in pain and a lot exhausted so you’re probably not going to come again, but you find yourself dangerously close watching Namjoon chase his own orgasm.

Head tilted back, neck on display, mouth dropped open. You want to shove your fingers inside, so you do.

He comes immediately.

Namjoon kisses you as the two of you come down, whispering more praise in between each one. Tells you how good you are, how beautiful, that he’s glad you broke his nose. Then he realizes the dumb thing that has come out of his mouth and pauses, looking confused and delicate. He’s so cute you kiss him first this time.

And then you pull back and realize he’s got blood all over his face, gushing from the nose he’s so glad you broke, and he’s out of the bed and into the bathroom before you can blink.

“You can’t do that, we’re soulmates!”

Jimin scoffs, placing the Robber on Taehyung’s hex tile anyway, ruthless as he watches his boyfriend miserably discard half his hand. “Your fault for building a city there. I’m coming for your ore tile next.”

You roll your lips to keep from laughing. You hadn’t expected the house’s sardonically-named Royal Couple to be on the brink of disaster twenty minutes into a game of Catan, but you’re safe for now in your small part of the world, surrounded by all of these people you’ve come to love, Namjoon especially, so you’ll take all the manufactured, external drama you can get.

“Told you he’d turn on you, Tae,” you chime. He gives you the finger. “You can’t trust Libra men.”

“What about virgins!” Jungkook calls from the kitchen, where Yoongi has convinced him to drink tequila and brandy to see if he can get him to punch Namjoon, too, and Seokjin laughs so hard he looks like he’s about to keel over and die.

Yeah, you think you’re going to be fine.

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