#side jihope

[downbad4yoongi]

Namjoon x reader

First Responder AU

Word count: 7156

Friends to lovers

Warnings: mature, smut 🔞(choking, vaginal sex, blowjob, fingering, edging), fluff

Summary: Namjoon's clumsiness proves to be your saving grace.

Thank you, @colormepurplex2 for the banner and the cheerleading.

The blue curtain partitioning off this emergency room bay from the others pulls back, the metal hooks jangling against each other as you lift the tablet in your hand to greet the newest patient to come into the ER. With a few swipes, you access the patient information causing you to stop short and snap your head up.

“Really, Namjoon! Again?” You look down at his lounging form, dressed in black joggers and a cream shirt, on the hospital bed cradling a heavily bandaged hand to his chest. At least he has the decency to look ashamed. You rest back on your hip, the tablet braced against your waist, “You couldn’t have made it five more days before ending up here again?”

Before he can respond, a fellow nurse walks up and silently holds their hand out. With an eyeroll and sigh, you reach into the pocket on the front of your scrub top and pull out three neatly folded bills and slap them into their hand. They smirk at the two of you before spinning with a loud laugh and heading back to the nurses’ station.

The chastised look on Namjoon’s face has morphed into a small frown, “What was that about?”

“That was about you not being able to go another week before ending up in my ER again.” You draw the curtain closed and move to his side, looking down at the tablet to review the information provided by EMS. You blink a few times at the screen before lifting your head to peer at him, “Nearly sliced your thumb off… how?”

You’ve known Namjoon two-thirds of your life seeing as he is your older brother’s closest friend. Ever since they were thrown together for a science project in middle school, they have been thick as thieves. In all that time, you don’t think you have ever seen Namjoon turn as red as he is turning right now.

Eyes cast downward and mumbles, “I was tryi-”

“Speak up for the class. I can’t hear you.”

With a roll of his eyes, his head flops back on the pillow, “I was trying to cook dinner, and turns squash is more difficult than I thought to cut through.”

Your lips purse, cheeks inflating in an effort not to laugh. The urge is a terrible pressure building in your chest; you turn, giving him your back, hand smacking across your mouth to muffle the laughs that do manage to escape. Tears prick your eyes in your effort to exercise restraint. Several beats pass with you taking in deep lungfuls of air before you spin back around to face him. “So, terribly sorry. That was unprofessional of me.”

“Quite. Don’t think I won’t tell Teddy about how poorly his sister treated me when I was in need.”

“Whatever. It’s not like he’d expect anything else.” You set the tablet down on the rolling tray and wrap your fingers around his right forearm and pull it towards you to get a better look at the hastily done bandage wrap. You can already see that blood has started to seep through the final layers of the gauze. “I’ll be right back. I need to gather the necessary supplies to clean the area before the doctor comes to stitch you up. If you’re lucky, you won’t need surgery.”

You walk out of his medical bay, leaving his curtain open, and head toward the locked supply cabinet. Using the key on your lanyard, you open the doors and pull the needed items out before relocking it, and making a stop by the nurse's station to ask them to page the on-call doctor. Leaning against the desk, you giggle at a joke your coworker makes as she reaches for the phone to page the doctor. Before she can complete the action though, you feel the body heat of someone next to you, standing way too close to be appropriate. Your shoulders stiffen as the newcomer leans on the desk next to you, his left hand moving to lightly cup your waist. 

“What’s so funny?” he asks.

Straightening abruptly you step away, jaw tight as your eyes fill with anxiety. “You would have had to be here to understand. I’m going to finish prepping the patient, and then he’ll be ready for you.” You turn abruptly and make your way back to Namjoon. Your breath leaves you shakily as the items in your arms clatter onto the metal tray.

“What was that?” he asks, his chin tilting to gesture toward the desk, concern laced in his voice.

Shaking your head sharply, “Nothing.” You slip your small hands into the nitrile gloves as you angle to face him, “Now, let’s get you prepped.”

His frown deepens, but he holds out the injured hand out to you. Bracing his arm with one hand, you slowly start to unwind the gauze wrapping his injury. After a few minutes, light is finally cast upon the damage. The note about severing his thumb was a little extreme, but was a close description. You hold his hand closer to you, looking at it from all angles; a few more centimeters, Namjoon would be getting scheduled for surgery right now and you tell him as much.

“Stop being ridiculous,” he scoffs.

“I’m not being ridiculous, Joon. A few more centimeters and you would have severe nerve and muscle damage that could only be repaired by surgery and a lot of occupational therapy. So next time, buy the pre-cut squash, ‘kay?”

Your eyes flick up and catch his wide eyes, his face a bit ashen as he takes your words to heart and nods. 

The corner of your mouth turns upward as you start cleaning the wound and treating it with a numbing agent in preparation of the doctor. Light chatter is traded between you both as you work. The banter comes to an abrupt stop as you feel a heavy palm against your back.

It doesn’t go unnoticed by Namjoon that your shoulders tighten and jaw perceptibly clenches as you are joined by the ER doctor on call. You avoid looking at Namjoon as the doctor introduces himself to Namjoon.

“Hello, um, Namjoon Kim. I’ll be the doctor attending to you this evening. I’m Dr. Brogan Rothport. Looks like you are here because of a severe laceration?”

You can feel Namjoon’s eyes flick between you and the doctor, who’s hand is still resting on your back. You hurry through the remaining cleansing and slide out of the way as soon as you can possibly manage.

Dr. Rothport moves into the vacated space looking down at the supplies you already have ready for him. He hums under his breath, “Sweetheart, can you grab me a pair of gloves?” He turns to you with an overly– unwanted– smile. “Then we can get started.”

You yank two gloves out of the box on the wall and drop them unceremoniously on the tray, “Not your sweetheart.” You shift out of reach of the doctor, moving to the other side of Namjoon’s bed.

“Don’t be ridiculous. You know I don’t mean anything by it, you’re just my favorite nurse,” he quips nonchalantly.

Before you can respond, Namjoon intercedes his free hand snaking around your waist, pulling you closer. “I don’t think she’s being ridiculous at all. After all she’s only one person’s sweetheart, isn’t that right, jagiya?”

You fight every instinct in you that wants to react and push Joon away from you. Instead you lean into his hold, your own hand gently sifting through the black strands of his hair, “You’d be correct in that, aegi.” You look down at him, and force yourself to smile at him and pray that it looks like a smile one would give to their significant other.

A sharp clearing of a throat breaks your gazes. “Oh, I wasn’t aware you had a boyfriend. I assumed you were single.”

You force a tight smile, the hand at the base of Namjoon’s head flexing a little, “Well, you know what they say about assuming.”

The doctor’s eyes narrow as he glares at you, “Why didn’t you tell me you were with someone?”

“Well, I tend to not talk about my personal life at work, and I am sure I’ve mentioned my love to you before. You’re just so busy that it’s probable it slipped your mind.”

You watch the doctor force a smile of his own as he gloves up, “This is  wonderful news, regardless.” He threads the needle and glances at Namjoon, “Well, you should definitely come to the holiday party I’m throwing for everyone this weekend. I’d love to have you.”

A smile naturally spreads across Namjoon’s full lips as he meets the doctor’s gaze, “Of course I’m coming. I was so excited when she told me it was happening. We’re just quibbling over what to bring; we hate showing up empty handed.”

You ease to a stop in front of Namjoon’s apartment building and shift your car into park. Since you were at the end of your shift when he showed up, you agreed to drop him off at his place rather than him calling your brother to pick him up. The entire twenty minute ride was a stifling silence with a soundtrack of throwback hits.  You shift in the driver’s seat, clearing your throat, “So how are we going to play this?”

Namjoon stills before shifting back to face you. “Play what?

“This fake relationship we are suddenly in.”

“We don’t have to play anything. Just tell you coworkers we broke up or I got sick or something.”

A sardonic laugh filters into the silence as you shake your head. “Yeah, no. You started us down this path, so you need to commit to this path with me.”

His brow furrows, “I don’t see why we would need to do that. No one is going to really care.”

“Joon, what do you think will happen when I show up to that party alone and Brogan realizes I am alone?” You shift your body to face him head on. “Ever since Brogan transferred to this hospital he has been invading my personal space, asking me out, and calling me ‘sweetheart.’ For six months, I have been dealing with this and I am at my breaking point.”

With wide eyes, “Wait, six months? Have you reported this to anyone? Does Teddy know about this?”

“I cannot have my brother storming into my workplace and assaulting an attending. I don’t need his good intentions to inappropriately escalate things. I reported the behavior to human resources a few weeks ago, but nothing came of it. Everyone at that damn hospital falls for his charisma.”

You watch Namjoon struggle to control his emotions, his jaw tense and his tongue stabbing a sharp dent in his cheek. You remain silent, letting him process. You glance back at him as his hand reaches over and cups your own. “Well, nae sarang, what are we bringing to his party?”

After a brief argument in the car about who would carry in the spiced cider, an argument you won after asking if he was trying to end up back in the ER if he ruptures his stitches, you step out of the warmth of your car into the chill winter air. You wait for Namjoon to join you on the walkway, your eyes tracing over the obnoxiously large house with a huge expanse of manicured grounds idyllically decorated with snow.

“Good lord, his house is as garish as his personality.” You start up the cleared walkway and approach the black front door with an ostentatious gold knocker and wait for it to open after Namjoon knocks. With a deep breath, you both slip into your roles as the door swings open.

Namjoon’s arm curls around your waist, you easily lean into his hold and paint a smile on your face as Brogan greets you and invites you inside. Namjoon’s hand slides to the small of your back ushering you inside before him. Brogan smiles at you, barely acknowledging Namjoon’s presence beside you, as he shuts the door. “So glad you could make it. You’re looking beautiful as always.” His eyes trace along the collar of your off-the-shoulder green sweater. “Really love your sweater… It's so festive.”

You suppress the shudder that begs to be let out. “Well, we are happy to be here. She talks so much about her coworkers, I can’t wait to finally meet them all!” You watch as Brogan finally looks away from you and nods his head in greeting at Namjoon.

“We are looking forward to meeting her elusive partner.” Brogan turns back to you. “Can I take that for you?” He motions at the spiced cider you’re holding.

You quickly give it up, eager for him to be away from you. Your shoulders relax as Brogan turns away from you, Namjoon’s hand rubbing soothingly against your back. “Let me take your coat for you.”

“Thanks, Joon,” you accept dropping your arms to your sides for him to slide your coat off. You straighten your dark green knitted sweater, waiting to the side for him to hang your coats up.

“You ready?” You can see the worry in his face that he is failing to mask.

Your fingers lace with his, “Let’s do this.”

You pull him behind you as you move from the foyer into the gathering area. This time a real smile dawns your face as you start greeting your colleagues. Namjoon easily falls into step beside you and plays his role to perfection. He knows exactly when to be an active participant in the various conversations and when to let you shine, interjecting cute anecdotes, witty remarks, or thoughtful observations. 

He is currently in the middle of telling an embarrassing story about you from a few years ago, when a set of arms circles around your waist from behind. You know exactly who it is without evening needing to look. A soft smile chases away the blush that was heating your face as you lean into the hold. “Hey, when did you get here?” you ask over your shoulder.

Hoseok rests his chin on your shoulder, “We just got here. Someone,” his eyes cut to the side pointedly at Jimin, “wanted to swing by the hospital. He insisted he needed to check in on his patients in the NICU.”

You giggle, “Did he? Let me guess, that side adventure took an hour.” Jimin pouts, crossing his arms, telling you all you need to know. Jimin has always gone above and beyond as a nurse in the NICU of your hospital. In fact, that is how he met his husband, Hoseok, who is a nurse two floors down in pediatrics. Your giggles grow louder, accompanied by Hoseok and Namjoon’s laugh, drawing attention from folks not even in your small circle. 

Your laughter fades because one of those people is Brogan. You stifle a sigh as you are pulled out of your comfort bubble. In your excitement to have your very close friends here, you didn’t notice the odd, surreptitious glances others have been giving you as you remain in Hoseok’s hold. You straighten and step out of Hoseok’s back hug and closer to Namjoon.

“What’s with the vibe change?” Hoseok’s eyes bounce around the circle.

Brogan clears his throat, “You seem awfully handsy with someone who has a partner. Last I checked, Namjoon doesn’t like that.”

“Also, she told us that this was the first time her coworkers were meeting Namjoon,” someone else throws out.

Hoseok and Jimin turn as a unit to look at you and Namjoon. You can feel their eyes take notice of the way his hand rests on your hip. In sync, they both slowly blink at you before turning back to the group. “Well, this may be your first introduction to Joonie here, but Hobi and I have been friends with both of them for years.” Jimin delivers with his signature smile.

Some of the tension bleeds from your shoulders as relief washes over you. You were worried for a second that Hobi or Jimin would inadvertently blow your cover. You lean into Namjoon’s side, his hand idly rubbing your hip, and smile because you should have never doubted that your close friends wouldn’t go along with your plan. 

“Still Namjoon, you seem completely fine with Hoseok being all over your woman,” Brogan brashly throws out, staring Namjoon down.

Namjoon smirks, rising to the challenge, “One, she is her own person; not an object to own. Two, who she does and does not let into her personal space is her own choice. Three, why is this any of your business?”

You turn into him slightly, a huge smile on your face, “And this is why I keep you around.”

Namjoon’s head tilts towards you as he gives a conspiratorial wink, and you can’t explain what comes next. It almost feels like an out-of-body experience as your hand reaches up to cup his jaw, you go up on your tiptoes, and kiss him. You feel his fingers flex on your hip where they rest, before he relaxes into it and kisses you back. His hand slides to the small of your back, pulling you closer as his lips move against yours. Holy shit, you are kissing your brother’s best friend!

A clearing of a throat breaks you two apart, your eyes slowly open taking in Namjoon’s own bewildered gaze. You settle back on your feet with flushed cheeks and a soft smile, your fingers brushing against your lips in a daze. A hint of pink dusts Namjoon’s cheeks, your head turns back to the group and Namjoon leans close to whisper in your ear, “That was pleasantly unexpected.”

You capture your lip between your teeth as heat creeps up your neck. Not even Brogan’s piercing gaze can steal that moment from you. You catch out of the corner of your eye, Jimin discreetly throwing you a look of surprise. You give a tiny shake of your head and mouth a ‘later.’

Brogan claps his hands, his face stony, “Well while that was riveting, shall we move on to the gift exchange?” With hums of acknowledgement, everyone starts moving to grab the presents they brought. 

Namjoon turns to you with a question in his eyes. You pat his chest, “Don’t worry about it. This was a staff exchange only.”

“Hm, that’s good seeing as I didn’t bring anything and was going to piggyback off your gift.”

You roll your eyes, “I would expect nothing less, Joon.” You head back to where you left your tote and pull out a gold gift bag with a sparkly red ribbon tied around the handles. “Since I am so gracious, this can be from both of us.” His chuckle resonates from his chest as he takes your hand again and leads you to the last open seat, plush chair next to the hearth. Namjoon takes the seat and pulls you onto his lap. You can’t help the small gasp of air that escapes you as he pulls you down with no resistance; rolling your lip between your teeth as his hand naturally comes to rest on your hip to hold you in place. 

Across the grouping of chairs, Hoseok wiggles his eyebrows at you. You shake your head diverting your eyes so as not to encourage him. Unfortunately, your gaze lands on Brogan and you catch him staring at you with narrowed eyes, jaw tense. His glare makes your skin crawl. You shift on Namjoon’s lap resting against him more, his hand soothingly rubbing your side as he catches your gaze. “Are you alright?” he whispers.

You gently knock your forehead against his, “Yes, because of you.”

The edges of his lips tilt upward. “Glad to be of service.” His eyes flick down to your lips and back to yours. You remain still as he leans in and brings your lips together, your eyes shuttering as your lips move with his. Quicker than you probably wanted, you pull back and brush your thumb along the edge of his thick bottom lip.

The eagerness of Jimin’s voice brings you out of your private bubble. “Gift time! I want to go first.” He reaches down to the side and picks up a lovely wrapped present and holds it in his lap. “I am sure you are all hoping that I was your Secret Santa  because who wouldn’t. Lucky for me, though, I was given someone who I already was shopping for. Yeobo, Merry Christmas!” Jimin turns to Hoseok and slides the present from his lap and onto Hobi’s.

Hoseok’s whole face lights up with a brilliant smile. “What! How did you keep this from me?”

“One doesn’t reveal their secrets.” Jimin leans in and pecks Hoseok’s cheek. “Hurry up now and show everyone my amazing present.”

Hoseok resembles a little kid on Christmas morning with the way he attacks the wrapping paper. In seconds, a white box is revealed and from across the way you see the Louis Vuitton insignia embossed on the lid. Hoseok is practically bouncing in his seat as he pulls open the lid and lets it slide to the floor. Reverently, he reaches in, eyes wide, and pulls out a black on black crossbody sling bag.  

Hoseok tears his eyes away from the gift to look lovingly at Jimin, “Sweets… I don’t even know what to say.”

Jimin smiles fondly at him, “A thank you and kiss would suffice.” 

Hoseok laughs and leans in kissing Jimin softly, pulling back he presses their foreheads together, “Thank you.”

“That kind of feels unfair that you got your husband as your person, but whatever,” another pediatric nurse quips. That has everyone chuckling as the gift exchange continues. It’s not long after the plush rug is littered with paper and empty gift bags as it gets down to the last few people who need to hand out their gift.

You bounce a little on Namjoon’s lap, “I want to go next!” You give the bag on your lap a little shake, “I was really excited to get this person as I have been wanting to buy this for them ever since I saw it in the store.” You slip off Namjoon’s lap and cross over to Jimin. “Merry Christmas, Chim!”

You can’t miss the way his eyes light before making your way back to Namjoon. By the time you have settled back down, Jimin has already pulled the gift out. His hands gently stroke over the cream cashmere scarf in his hands. “Oh, this is beautiful.” He sends you a fond smile and wraps the scarf around his neck, “I love it. Thank you!”

“Only the best for my bestie,” you shoot back cheesily.

“While it has been a joy to watch all of this, it is my turn to give my gift.” Brogan stands up and picks up the flat silver-wrapped box at his feet. You figured out after the halfway point that Brogan was probably your Secret Santa, and you have been dreading it ever since. You sink back into Namjoon as Brogan approaches, he offers the present to you with an uncomfortable amount of eye contact. 

You gingerly accept the box, setting it across your lap. Namjoon strokes your hip attempting to ease the tension running through you.  He props his chin on your shoulder and watches you take apart the wrapping paper to reveal a white box embossed with the name La Perla . Your back stiffens and you can already feel the heat crawling up your neck; Namjoon’s hand tightens on your hip as he watches you lift the lid off. Your lips purse tightly as you reveal the black lace corset lingerie nestled in tissue paper. Your hands grip the box edges, your body vibrating with a riot of emotions leaving you unable to speak. 

Namjoon, sensing your turmoil turns his steely gaze on Brogan and gives him an overly-saccharine grin, “Didn’t know you were so thoughtful, Brogan. While I am perfectly capable of purchasing my love lingerie, we will definitely put this to good use.” 

Finally getting a semi-handle on your emotions, you look up in time to see Brogan’s face tighten in anger, his cheeks tinting red. You lean back into Namjoon, head resting back on his shoulder as he reaches in to pick up the lace lingerie to show it to the group. “Yes thank you, Brogan. Despite it being very inappropriate to buy a colleague lingerie. I’ll make sure to wear it for my love; hopefully, it’ll make it through in one piece, Namjoon can get a little wild sometimes.”

“Lovely,” Brogan turns on his heel and walks out of the den. It feels like everyone releases the tension they were holding during that exchange and looks over at you, a mix of emotions displayed on their faces.

You cover your face with your hands, “What the fuck.”

“Mm, very quality.” You slide your hands down to peek at Jimin who’s gingerly holding the corset up and appraising it. “Don’t give me that look. He is a creep, but he does have relatively good taste.”

You snatch the garment from him and stuff it back into the box, slapping on the lid. “That is so beside the point.” You stand up and turn to look at Namjoon, “I’m ready to go. Are you?”

He nods and stands up taking the box from you as you quickly hug Jimin and Hoseok good-bye. Namjoon does the bro hug thing with them and then you’re in the foyer putting back on your layers. With one last wave, Namjoon opens the front door and jumps back, shouting in shock as a  pile of snow rushes in through the open door.

Other guests start trailing in to see what the commotion is about as you look out the door and see piles and piles of snow have accumulated over the last few hours. Something that no one had realized because Brogan had drawn all the drapes to hold out the cold.  “You’ve got to be shitting me,” you huff.

After an hour of arguing in circles, praying to a higher power, an almost brawl, and checking the weather reports, it's determined that you are all stuck for at least the night. You’re currently settled in one of several lounges in this overly large house with Namjoon, Hoseok, and Jimin. 

“Did I do something terrible in a past life?” You throw the question out as you lay on your back across one of the sofas, your legs draped over Namjoon’s lap. 

“Mmmm, probably. I always thought you did something devious in your past life. Maybe something like an interrogator or an assassin. Sometimes your looks can kill.” Jimin laughs as he catches the throw pillow you toss at his face.

“That was a rhetorical question.” 

Hoseok clears his throat, “So are we not going to talk about the elephant in the room?”

Namjoon’s hand rubs soothingly up and down your calf, “Like what a massive asshole Brogan is?”

“Yes, and that apparently you’re dating your best friend’s little sister.” Hoseok eyes the both of you.

Namjoon catches your eye and shrugs one shoulder at you, leaving the choice up to you. With a sigh, you shift to a sitting position but leave your legs on Namjoon’s lap. “I would have told you if I was really with Namjoon. He is helping me keep Brogan at bay.”

Jimin straightens up, “What did he do?”

You divert your eyes, worrying your lower lip. Namjoon gently squeezes your calf and answers, “I was at the ER–”

“Again?!” Jimin interjects.

Namjoon ignores the comment and continues, “I had cut my hand pretty badly and she was assigned as my ER nurse. I witnessed Brogan inappropriately try to flirt with her and invade her space.” He looks over at you, “She was clearly upset and uncomfortable, and so I acted on instinct and pretended to be her boyfriend to get him to back off.”

“It threw me for a moment, but I went along with it and grabbed that life preserver with both hands.” You look at Namjoon, your expression relaying how grateful you are for his intervention.

Hoseok snaps, “Can’t believe that prick still works at our hospital.”

“Money talks and Daddy’s money talks even louder,” Jimin quips sardonically.

The three of you nod solemnly. Hoseok softly claps his hands, “Let’s stop wasting our time thinking about that asshole. I’d rather discuss how your fake relationship somehow includes very real kissing.”

You duck your head, cheeks heating, “Um, I don’t really have an explanation for that.” You glance at Namjoon, “It just felt right.”

“Twice?”

Namjoon’s dimples appear as he laughs softly and nods. His fingers crawl up your leg to snag your fingers in his. “Pissed Brogan off didn’t it?” Namjoon says as his eyes fill with a contradicting message.

Your hands grip the cold edge of the marble countertop in the bathroom and take a few deep breaths. Your mind is a mess and can’t seem to settle on any one thought. You’ve really managed to stick your foot in it this time and now you have to sleep in the same bed. 

Was he just playing along? 

Did he actually want to kiss you?

Will he be expecting more after those kisses? You‘re not ashamed to admit you like what you’ve experienced thus far.

Do I want more? You lift your head and stare at your reflection. Worrying at your lip, you think about the consequences if you do what you want to versus what you should probably do. You release the pull you have on your lip having made your decision. 

Namjoon is idly scrolling on his phone as he lounges on the mound of pillows on the king-size bed when you open the bathroom door and casually lean against the doorframe. The light from behind you perfectly framing every dip and curve of your body in the expensive lingerie that was gifted to you. You know you look amazing; the corset is perfectly cinched at your waist providing just the right lift to your breasts, the lace briefs highlighting everything it needs to. 

Namjoon’s eyes flick over and then back to his phone but quickly snapback, his phone slipping from his hands, as he fully takes you in. You can’t suppress the smirk that lifts your lips as his eyes trail down your body.

He slowly sits up, “Um, what are you doing?”

“What feels good.”

He blinks slowly at you, his mouth still gaping.

“It would be a shame to waste all of this, no?” Your hand trails down your side from just under your chest to your hip.

Namjoon stands up and stalks toward you, the intensity of his gaze ensnaring yours. He comes to a stop, leaving just a breath of space between you. He lightly runs his finger along the thin strap of the corset, it’s more like a whisper of a touch actually. “It would be a crime to not take advantage of the generosity provided to us.”

Your breath shudders as that whisper of a touch teases along the top of the corset, teasing you. “Absolutely,” you whisper.

Namjoon’s lips crash against yours as he yanks you against him. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, arching into him as his tongue sweeps into your mouth. You slide one hand into the hair at his nape, the other gripping the back of his shirt as you meet him with equal vigor. He slides his hands down your waist to your hips before sliding around to grip your ass and lifting you into the air. You don’t hesitate to wrap your legs around his waist, your tongues dueling with each other.

A grunt forced from your mouth into his as your back collides with the wall, his hips pinning you to the hard surface as his hands navigate back to your waist. You nip and pull at his thick bottom lip as his fingers dig into your ribs. He dives down to your neck, his tongue leaving behind a wet trail before settling on a spot and sucking. 

Namjoon presses his forehead to yours, his breath gusting against your face, as he pauses the frenzy. He gently squeezes your waist, “Are you really sure? If we cross this line, there’s no going back.”

Your tongue traces over your lips and you nod. “I am very sure. Ever since that first kiss, I haven’t stopped thinking of the possibilities.”

As the last words leave your lips, his hips kick forward grinding your lower back hard against the wall as his hands wedge between to start popping open the fastenings on your corset. Your head falls back against the wall, his mouth leaving a string of purple bruises down the column of your neck. A surprised gasp is pulled from you at the sudden pressure of his teeth biting down on the skin of your collar bone. You arch into it, your fingers digging into his shoulders.

You feel the deep timbre of his laugh more than hear it, “Mmm, you liked that huh?” He unhooks the last fastener, your chest spilling free as the tension of lace falls away. You hold eye contact, your teeth digging into your own lip, as his large palm cups you and slowly starts to squeeze. The rhythm of your breathing falters with the slow increase in pressure around your tender breast, drawing a whimper from you. His eyes dart to the mottled skin around his fingers as he maintains the harsh grip he has on you. “There something you want to tell me?”

He releases his grip, the pressure from his hold leaving behind a dark reddish-purple ring around your breast. You buck your hips as much as you can as blood rushes back into the area. “Take my mind off tonight. Make me forget everything. I won’t break…but it never hurts to try.”

You can see the sparks ignite in his eyes as his lips collide with yours, this kiss punishing and intense. Before your body can fully react to it, your grip on gravity is yanked away as you sail through the air and land with a bounce on the plush bed. You lay there for a beat, heart racing before leveraging up onto your elbows. Fortunately just in the nick of time because you get a front row seat to Namjoon stripping off his clothes as he stalks toward the bed after you. The last piece of clothing, his boxer briefs, join the rest of the clothes strewn across the floor; your eyes can’t settle on any one thing to look at. 

Namjoon is a fucking adonis. Your eyes run from his broad shoulders to the taper of his waist down to follow his v-line straight to the thick cock framed by even thicker thighs. A startled sound escapes you as he grabs one of your ankles and yanks you to the edge of the mattress, stepping in between your spread legs. His hand cups your cheek, his thumb brushing along your jaw before tilting your head back and meeting your eyes. His fingers slip back to cup the back of your hair, your body tensing in anticipation. Suddenly his grip on your hair tightens, yanking your head back sharply, “Tap out if it’s too much.”

You’re barely able to nod your head before being pulled forward and having your lips spread open by his cock. You roll your eyes up to watch him watch you as his hips continue their slow press forward only stopping when his tip is nestled at the back of your throat. He stills for a moment just taking the view in, but it’s not long before you become impatient. You flutter your lashes at him and that turns out to be the perfect thing to set him off.

His hips draw back and snap forward, his hand holding you in place as he starts fucking your mouth. Your fingers curl and hold onto the blankets under you as he uses your mouth. You can’t help but moan around him with the way his cock is perfectly stretching your jaw wide and coating your tongue with the taste of him. Your deep moan has his hips kicking forward even harder, his cock sliding down your throat. Your eyes sting with the pricking of tears as his pace intensifies, your body flushed with need as he takes what he wants from you.

“Fuck, your mouth. It’s so perfect,” he moans, head falling back on his shoulders before rolling to look down at you. “Just look at you taking my cock so well.” His pace slows until with one last deep push he buries his cock deep in your throat, your nose almost touching his pelvis. He keeps you there for a moment, your throat spasming as you choke on the meat of him.

Your seconds from needing to tap out when he pulls you off him, a thick trail of your saliva tethers you together before snapping when he releases his hold on your hair letting you collapse back on the bed. Your throat burns as you suck down air while simultaneously giving in to the urge to cough and clear your throat. Namjoon stands over you watching you patiently. It’s not too long before your body calms and you look up at him, face wet with tears and slick with your spit.

“Okay?”

You give a raspy laugh, “Never better.”

“Who knew you were hiding this side of you? How much more can you take?”

You bite your lip and lift one of your legs to slide your foot up along the hard planes of his abdomen. “I contain multitudes.” You slide your foot down until your toes are lightly ghosting down his length, “All of it.”

A visible tremor runs through you as Namjoon gives you a devious smile and glides his hands down your legs to the lace edges of your lingerie. He balls his fist in the front panel and yanks, ripping them from your body. Your hips are jerked off the bed with the force of it. A deep pulse throbbing within you at the aggression.

You can feel the weight of his gaze between your legs, you watch as he bites his own lip before sliding a finger through your swollen, wet lips. His finger dips in teasing you before he plunges two fingers into you. You arch off the bed with a gasp, your body clasping tight around him. 

His fingers quickly work you into a frenzy, a deep heat coiling in your belly that has you yanking on the bedding around you. You're ready for the explosion of pleasure that is about to happen when his fingers yank free of you. Your eyes snap open, “What the fuck?”

He straightens and shrugs, “I don’t think you earned it just yet.”

If looks could kill, daggers would be piercing his chest right now. As is, he just chuckles at your frustration, grabbing you by the hips. He flips you over onto your front, your hips curved right over the edge of the bed. A ringing sound echoes through the room as a sharp sting blooms along your ass. His hand soothingly rubs the sting away before he grips both your hips and tilts you just right. 

Your breath shudders from you as you feel his heat glide between your aching lips and teases your tight bundle of nerves. He repeats the motion again and again until you’re a mewling mess in front of him. Tears prick your eyes in frustration, your body desperate for more when the heat of his body leaves you for a brief moment before connecting back with you. His pelvis slams against your ass as he buries his cock inside you.

You don’t even bother to smother the scream that escapes you as he splits you open on his thick cock. You’re writhing on the bed, unsure if you are trying to get away or get closer to him. He waits patiently until you’ve calmed and have relaxed back into the mattress before moving again.

The slow drag of him leaving you pulls moans from both of you, your walls clinging to every inch of him. It’s only the tightening of his grip on you that gives you a warning as he snaps his hips forward again. The pace he sets is brutal as he fucks you into the mattress. Your hands desperately grapple at the bedding needing to hold on as he fucks you into another universe. The skin of your ass burning with the intensity of his thrusts driving you higher and higher.

You cry out as his fist wraps in your hair and yanks you backward, pressing your back to his chest. The tip of his cock hitting you at just the right angle has you clawing at his arms, your eyes rolling back in your head. One hand remains on your hip as he keeps pace, the other sliding to curl around the front of your neck pushing your head back to rest on his shoulder.

The cries you were letting out are swiftly cut off as his hand squeezes down around your throat. Your walls tighten around him as he slowly increases the pressure from just restricting your vocal chords to cutting off your air flow completely. The speed of his thrusts slows as your pussy clamps down tighter on his cock. A few more deep thrusts has your nails biting hard into his arms, leaving deep red crescents. He releases his grip on your throat and the rush of oxygen back into your lungs along with the waves of pleasure crashing through you has you seeing stars.

You’re almost completely out of it as Namjoon rams deep one more time and spills into your depths. You both fall forward onto the bed, Namjoon just manages to catch himself on his left arm so he doesn’t crush you. You’re unsure of how long you remain like that as you come back to earth, but soon he is pulling out of you and disappearing into the bathroom as you lay there eyes closed.

You jolt back to awareness when the warm softness of a cloth strokes between your legs. You squirm as he brushes against your sensitive pussy before settling back down when he tosses the cloth toward the bathroom door and helps you shift to lay fully on the bed. He shuffles in next to you and pulls the duvet over you both.

You curl against him, resting your head on his shoulder as you loosely wrap an arm and a leg around him. You nuzzle at the skin of his bare chest, “Mmm, so how are we going to break this to Teddy?”

#bangtanwhq #bangtanboys #namjoon smut #namjoon fanfic #friends to lovers #bts smut #bts namjoon #side jihope #jihope #bts fanfction #gift exchange #thanks for reading #first responder au #accident prone namjoon #bts ff #bts fanfic

[basketofverbiage]

Face Down pt 5

I’m a little scared to share this, but okay. Here we go.

tw: sex, violence, gun violence, minor character death, language, police, barebacking, top Jungkook, bottom Seokjin, they’re in love okay! 

Seokjin felt like the next two months flew past. He spent at least two full days a week with his new attorney, Son Hyunwoo, trying his best to prepare for Kangdae’s upcoming trial. Shownu, as he’d told Seokjin to call him, was a soft spoken, gentle man when around Seokjin. However, Seokjin had heard from a few others that he was a hard ass in the courtroom. Shownu was working with the District Attorney prosecuting Kangdae to ensure that they had their ducks in a row and could send him to prison where he belonged. He was being charged with multiple counts of assault and battery, resisting arrest, and attempted murder. But in order to ensure that the case went well, Seokjin had to essentially relive every single thing Kangdae had done to him. In the midst of the trial preparation, they knew that Kangdae’s government appointed attorney was attempting to convince the magistrate to release him on bail. The first act as his attorney that Shownu fulfilled was following up with Detective Jung to ensure that the restraining order had been filed in the case that some idiotic judge let Kangdae out of jail.

Despite all of the intense therapy and trial preparation that Seokjin was enduring, he and Jungkook had met with Minhyuk a couple of times. The apartment was officially listed on the market after Minhyuk had toured the place and asked them to paint the entryway walls and the walls in the bedroom. The bedroom walls had had several scuffs where Kangdae had thrown things at Seokjin there and there were blood stains in the entry way that Jungkook had been unable to scrub off without damaging the paint. Seokjin honestly felt horribly guilty about not being able to do any repairs needed in the apartment, but Jungkook and Yoongi had ganged up on him and told him to stop complaining. Somehow, Taehyung had gotten ahold of Jimin’s phone number when Seokjin had been hospitalized, so he arranged an afternoon for Seokjin to spend time with him. While he was gone, Jungkook and Yoongi dove in and painted the walls and repaired any other little things they found around the apartment.

It had taken two full days to get all of Seokjin’s miscellaneous items that hadn’t already been moved out sorted. Most of his things had already found their way into Jungkook’s apartment, but the remaining few things found a home in Namjoon’s spare bedroom closet. Seokjin had decided to list the apartment as furnished so that he could sell it all together with the exception of the mattress. As far as he was concerned, the site of Kangdae’s most horrific acts against him should be burned in a raging bonfire.

Once they had gotten Minhyuk’s approval, the apartment actually sold faster than Seokjin had ever dreamed. It had sold to an adorable couple, Jooheon and Hyungwon. They actually offered more than the list price for the apartment with all the furniture, so Seokjin ended up making a sizeable profit from the sale. The relief of never having to go there again was worth more than the money to Seokjin in all honesty.

Just a week after the sale of the apartment had gone through, Seokjin got Wonho’s approval to go back to work. Seokjin would only be returning to his job on a part time basis for a while so that he’d have the time to continue trial preparation and his intensive therapy meetings with Wonho. He could tell he was finally beginning to make progress when the panic attacks went from a few times a week to one a week or so. It was a relief to finally be getting back to normal.

One seemingly normal afternoon, he left their flat to grocery shop. He’d wanted to make a recipe that his grandmother had made he and Namjoon when they were small. Seokjin had rediscovered her handwritten recipe when they had been sorting through his things to move them out of the flat he’d sold. The grocer was only a couple of blocks from the apartment and the weather was beautiful, so he had opted to walk. He spoke politely to Hyungwon in the elevator as they shared the space on the way down and set off to shop happily. Seokjin was beginning to feel normal again, and it was amazing.

He grabbed the things he needed to make the soup he had in mind then returned back to the apartment to put the meal on to simmer while he worked. When he approached the door, he was immediately put on edge as the door was slightly ajar. He’d been certain he’d closed it tightly and locked it when he left. Seokjin gripped the bag of grocery items tightly in one hand and his phone in the other as he bumped the door open. He peeped in and didn’t immediately see anyone, so he cautiously locked the door behind him and moved into the kitchen. After placing the grocery bag on the counter, he walked into the living room to see if Jungkook had gotten home early.

“Ongoo-ah? Are you home?” he called as he stepped around the corner. Seokjin walked into the living room to see his worst nightmare standing in the middle of the room. Kangdae had smashed the glass-top coffee table into a million pieces and had the largest shard in his gloved hand.

“Hello, Seokjin.”

 Jungkook and Yoongi had been working a rather intense corporate function all afternoon. The formal environment filled with men in stiff suits and ties had been incredibly difficult to photograph in a happy light, but they had done their best. Jungkook had just gotten to his desk to load the memory card from his camera into his computer when his office phone rang. His cell phone had been on silent locked in his desk drawer during the event so he wouldn’t have any distractions. He quickly picked up the receiver and answered with his professional greeting.

“Ah, Jungkook. Thank god I reached you. This is Detective Jung Hoseok. I was calling because we were notified an hour ago that Lee Kangdae was released from jail on bail. His attorney succeeded in his attempts to get him freed. I have been trying to reach Seokjin for an hour and he isn’t answering. His phone goes straight to voicemail.”

Jungkook’s stomach sank. “Oh shit. I’d better go home. Seokjin is staying with me in my apartment next door to their former residence.”

“Something about this feels off to me, Mr. Jeon. My partner and I will meet you there.”

Jungkook didn’t bother saying his goodbyes to the detective, instead slamming down the phone and grabbing his coat, phone, and keys. He ran at a dead sprint out of the room and nearly bowled Yoongi over.

“Yoongi-hyung, I’ve got to go. They released that motherfucker from jail and the detective can’t get ahold of Seokjin,” Jungkook barked out as he brushed by.

“Oh shit. Let me grab my keys. I drove in this morning.”

Yoongi moved faster than Jungkook had ever seen him go as he fetched his keys and coat. On the way out of the building, Yoongi called their boss to let him know they had an emergency while Jungkook frantically tried to call Seokjin. Jungkook growled in frustration as his call immediately went to voicemail. He was trying not to panic, but he couldn’t help it. He could just feel it in his chest that Seokjin was in trouble. Yoongi, normally an extremely cautious driver, broke at least seven traffic laws in rushing them across town, weaving in and out of traffic with his emergency lights flashing. Their office was a solid twenty-minute drive from Jungkook’s apartment, but they made it in twelve. Yoongi barely got the car slowed down to park when Jungkook leapt out of the car, running toward the door. Yanking the emergency break, Yoongi left the emergency lights flashing in the loading zone before turning the car off and chasing Jungkook into the building. Jungkook had summoned the elevator and was shoving his way through several people exiting the cabin; Yoongi shuffled in beside him just barely before the doors closed.

“Why do I think that asshole is in my house?” Jungkook snarled.

“Because he said he wanted to finish what he started. But it’s okay. We’re here now,” Yoongi replied, trying to soothe Jungkook’s rapidly fraying nerves.

“I’ll kill him with my bare hands if he has laid a single pinky finger on Seokjin.”

The elevator dinged their arrival and Jungkook sped down the hallway to his apartment. The door to the apartment was closed and locked, but Jungkook slid his key into the door as quietly as he could. He and Yoongi glanced at each other silently before Jungkook eased the door open and they slipped into the apartment. Jungkook was trying to keep his cool until Seokjin whined. The sound swept through his ears and stabbed into his chest with rage and disquiet.

A loud slap echoed through the apartment, followed by a crash, and Kangdae screaming, “Shut up, whore. I’m here to give you what you fucking deserve for ruining my life!”

Jungkook rushed into the living room to see Seokjin lying in a shining confetti of broken glass from his coffee table and Kangdae with a large shard in one hand and the leg of the table in the other. He had the leg raised above his head to thump into Seokjin when Jungkook rounded the corner. Jungkook saw red and started across the room to stop him when Kangdae saw him. Kangdae dropped the table leg and yanked Seokjin off the floor, pressing the sharpest edge of the sliver of glass into Seokjin’s throat. He held Seokjin in front of him by holding one of his arms behind his back and the arm gripping the glass dagger across Seokjin’s chest.

“Go ahead. Play the hero again, boy. I’ll slit the slut’s throat before you ever get here,” Kangdae sneered.

The threat froze Jungkook in his place, watching as the glass began to dig into Seokjin’s throat more. Seokjin’s delicate skin began to tear, and a trickle of blood started down the right side. His terrified tears watered down the crimson a little as they mixed just under the edge of the glass and he stared into Jungkook’s eyes, begging him not to move.

“Kangdae-ssi, you don’t have to do this,” Jungkook murmured. “We can get you help.”

“I don’t want help!” Kangdae roared. “I want to end this piece of shit that ruined my life!”

Jungkook paused for a moment to think, frozen in place with his hands lifted in front of him, watching helplessly as the glass dug harder into Seokjin’s neck. “Please. Just let him go. You’ll never have to see him again.”

“And what? Just let you have him? Let him keep whoring around with the fucking neighbors?” Kangdae laughed and twisted the arm he was using to hold Seokjin up. Seokjin screamed at the strain on his shoulder, which only made Kangdae laugh more. “Does that hurt, Whore? I hope it does.”

Just as Jungkook was considering doing something crazy, he heard the door slam open. Jung Hoseok and Im Changkyun ran up beside Jungkook accompanied by several other uniformed officers. They stood, guns drawn and homed in on Kangdae.

“Kangdae-ssi, I need you to let Seokjin-ssi go,” Hoseok commanded.

“Fuck no. What do I have to lose at this point? This whore has already taken everything from me.”

Changkyun spoke up quickly from Jungkook’s left. “You’re still alive, Kangdae-ssi. You can walk out of this apartment in one piece, and we can help you get a new place to live and another job. Just let him go and drop your weapon.”

Kandae sneered at Changkyun but turned just slightly towards him. Jungkook watched Hoseok inch his way just a little further to the right, opening up his space. Changkyun kept speaking, offering empty platitudes and distracting him in an attempt to let Hoseok get in place.

“Come on. I know how angry you are, Kangdae-ssi. But this isn’t the way to resolve it and get your life back,” Changkyun compelled.

“NO!” Kangdae screamed. “I’m going to kill this piece of trash. I’M DONE TALKING!”

Just as Kangdae pressed the jagged fragment harder into Seokjin’s neck, Hoseok pulled the trigger. He’d been able to slip to the side enough to bury a bullet in Kangdae’s skull without injuring Seokjin in the process. The impact was immediate, but the terror mixed with the weight of the body dragged Seokjin down with him as Kangdae collapsed. Seokjin flung Kangdae’s grip off of him and crawled through the remaining chips of glass on the floor until he was close enough to fling himself at Jungkook. Jungkook held him tightly to his chest, allowing Seokjin to bury his face into his neck as they sank to the floor. Jungkook watched as Detective Jung leaned over Kangdae’s motionless body to check for a pulse while snapping his gun back into the holster at his belt. When it was apparent that Kangdae wouldn’t be getting back up, paramedics swarmed into the flat to check on Seokjin. The blood trickling down his neck had already begun to slow but he clung to Jungkook so hard that they eventually just gave up and allowed Jungkook to lie on the stretcher and Seokjin to lay down on top of him to ride to the hospital.

Yoongi had stood behind Jungkook and watched the whole scene helplessly but was calm enough to move his car into Jungkook’s parking place at the apartment building before climbing into the ambulance to ride with them to get Seokjin checked out better. Along the way, he called to tell Namjoon to meet them in the emergency room even as he held one of Seokjin’s shaking hands.

 Namjoon had been the middle of a video call with an author he was working with when Yoongi called. It was a random hour of the day for Yoongi to be calling. He never called during work hours since their breaks and lunches never really aligned. Namjoon excused himself from the video call for a moment to answer Yoongi. He’d barely accepted the call when Yoongi’s voice shocked him through the speaker.

“Namjoonie?” Yoongi’s normally calm voice was tremulous at best.

“Yeah, Yoon? Are you okay?”

“Yes, but no. I need you to meet us at the emergency room, okay?”

Namjoon frowned. “The emergency room? What’s going on?”

“Baby, they let Seokjin’s psycho ex out of jail, and he broke into their apartment. Jungkook and I got there to their coffee table shattered and he tried to kill Seokjin again. He’s alive and conscious, but we’re in the ambulance to get him checked out.”

Namjoon rushed off the call and apologized to the author he’d muted on the video call. He promised to reschedule their meeting and ended the call. He practically ran out of the apartment, frantically hailing a cab as soon as he reached the street. The taxi driver must have been able to sense Namjoon’s urgency even and he tried to suppress it as he floored it then undercharged him as he dropped Namjoon off at the door to the emergency room. He hurried in the doors of the hospital looking for the information desk but was intercepted by Yoongi before he got there.

“God, Yoongi, what the fuck? Hasn’t my brother been through enough?” He gasped out as Yoongi pulled him into a tight hug.

“He definitely has. But he’ll never be submitted to anything else like this. One of the detectives shot that motherfucker in the head. That’s how they were able to get Seokjin free. He’s terrified and clinging to Jungkook like he’ll disappear if he lets go. The nurse popped out a few minutes ago at Jungkook’s request to let me know that his neck is being stitched up.”

“Stitched up?” Namjoon murmured.

“Yeah. Kangdae had a big piece of glass pressed to Seokjin’s neck. The cut is pretty shallow for the most part but apparently it was a little deeper towards the front. He also had some cuts on the bottom of one of his feet from falling out of his slippers onto the glass when Kangdae was shot. He’s okay, Joonie. But fuck, I was super scared watching.”

Namjoon and Yoongi walked to a small sofa in the corner of the waiting room. Yoongi pressed into Namjoon’s chest, still trembling after the ordeal. Namjoon was honestly still trying to process everything that had happened but wrapped his arms around Yoongi while he worked through the afternoon’s events. Holding his love helped to soothe some of the agitation ricocheting around his chest. He honestly couldn’t believe that some judicial officer looked at the documentation of Seokjin’s prior injuries and the testimonies of the arresting officers and thought, “Oh, he’s not that dangerous. Let’s just let him out of jail.”

Before Namjoon could have the time to get himself more worked up, a nurse wheeled Seokjin out of a set of double doors. Seokjin’s face was pale, and he still looked absolutely terrified, squeezing one of Jungkook’s hands so tightly his knuckles were white. But he was alive. Yoongi and Namjoon rose and walked over to intercept the nurse.

“Jinnie, I’m so sorry,” Namjoon whispered into his brother’s hair as he knelt in front of the wheelchair, pulling him into a tight hug.

Seokjin started to sob brokenly into Namjoon’s neck, even as his left hand still clung to Jungkook. They hugged for a few more minutes, then Namjoon pulled back.

“Why don’t you two come back to my apartment for a while?” he said, looking at Jungkook.

“Okay. Detective Jung said that they’d call when we are able to come home. They need to…um…do some cleanup.”

Namjoon could tell that there was more that Jungkook wanted to say, but he didn’t want to upset Seokjin further. So, they allowed the nurse to wheel him outside and Yoongi flagged down a taxi to take them all back to Namjoon’s apartment. Seokjin was so jumpy that he insisted on sitting near the door, so Jungkook squeezed into the middle of the back seat between the two brothers, and Yoongi rode in the passenger seat to help the driver navigate. Seokjin kept one hand on the door handle the entire ride but curled into Jungkook and closed his eyes during the trip to Namjoon’s apartment.

When they got there, Namjoon noticed the blood stains on both Seokjin’s sweater and Jungkook’s work shirt, so he offered them the shower and dug out some comfortable clothes for them to put on. Seokjin refused to shower unless Jungkook went with him, so they pressed themselves into the shower in Namjoon’s larger master bath instead of the smaller bathroom that Seokjin had used in the guest room when he was staying there before.

If Jungkook hadn’t known better, he’d have thought that Seokjin was going into shock since he was trembling all over, but the doctor in the emergency room had warned that he may have an adrenaline crash after the episode. While they stood under the shower in an unfamiliar space, Seokjin went completely pliant. He just stood limply under the spray, letting Jungkook move and wash him however he wanted. Once the soap from both their bodies had trickled down the drain, Jungkook turned off the water and dried them both. Yoongi had slipped in, placing a change of clothes for both of them on the vanity. Jungkook turned around to grab an outfit for Seokjin but was stopped when Seokjin whimpered in fear. Seokjin had begun to cry again; Jungkook just pulled him close, their shower-flushed skin pressed together, just pressing Seokjin further into his chest.

“Ongoo-ah, I’m so scared,” Seokjin whispered.

“I know you are, baby. But he can never hurt you again. Ever,” Jungkook murmured into Seokjin’s hair. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there to protect you.”

Seokjin lifted his head where he’d buried his face into Jungkook’s chest. “You shouldn’t be sorry, Ongoo-ah. You came when you thought something was wrong. No one else besides Namjoon-ah has ever done that for me.”

They stood there for a few more moments, just staring into each other’s eyes, before Seokjin leaned up and pressed his lips into Jungkook’s. They kissed softly for a few moments, just a precious exchange of comfort and love between the two before finally getting dressed. Yoongi had gathered their dirty clothes to try to salvage the blood stains off the shirts when he’d brought the change of clothes in, so they walked into Namjoon’s living room to the soft swish of the washing machine swirling in its small alcove off the kitchen.

“Feel better?” Namjoon asked from where he was seated in an armchair with Yoongi in his lap.

“Much. Thank you, Joonie-hyung,” Jungkook replied.

Jungkook settled into the corner of the sofa. He’d wanted to leave extra space in case Seokjin wanted to lay down, but Seokjin had simply straddled Jungkook’s lap and curled into him to rest his head on Jungkook’s shoulder. The position reminded Jungkook of when he’d babysat Taehyung’s younger sister and she’d fallen asleep on his lap, her little face resting on his shoulder and her arms and legs octopus wrapped around him. Seokjin was sitting very similarly, making his taller frame as small as possible to curl into the safety of Jungkook’s gentle hold.

While the other three talked softly about nonsense things, Seokjin finally felt safe for the first time since he’d left the shop. In his mind, he knew he should never have gone into the apartment by himself. But at the same time, he really thought that it had been Jungkook coming home early. Sitting curled in Jungkook’s arms, with his gentle hands rubbing up and down his back, soothed some deep wound in Seokjin’s chest that had been reopened by Kangdae’s attack. He finally felt his tight muscles begin to loosen a little, and after a while, he drifted off to a wispy, cloudlike doze.

 Jung Hoseok walked into his apartment just after 2 am, kicking his shoes off slowly before, slipping through the house. His husband was home already, sleeping soundly on his evening off, so Hoseok showered as quietly as possible before sliding naked between their sheets to slither over and hold Jimin in his arms. Jimin had always been a light sleeper, so the motion of Hoseok moving to hold him jarred him out of his dreams.

“Hi, lovey. What time is it?” he sleepily whispered.

“2:37 am. Go back to sleep, Minnie. I’m sorry for waking you.” Hoseok’s voice cracked on the apology, causing Jimin to open his eyes and properly look at his husband.

“Love, what happened? You’re crying.”

Hoseok gasped in a breath before saying anything else. “You remember that case I worked of the abusive boyfriend? He got released from jail and tried to kill the guy. I shot him in the head when he tried to slit his throat.”

“Oh, god, baby! You’ve really had a hard day. Come here,” Jimin uttered, rearranging their positions to pull his husband into his chest. “I know it doesn’t really change it, but you killed him to save someone else’s life.”

“That’s not why I’m upset,” Hoseok whispered. “I’m upset because I was glad I had a reason to kill him. He was awful, but I feel so guilty for wanting him dead for what he did to another man.”

Jimin didn’t really say anything else. In both of their jobs, they had to maintain a level of privacy. They couldn’t tell each other the people’s names that they helped, but they still shared the things that bothered them or made them glad they’d chosen their professions. He didn’t know the details of what this man had done, but he must have been a monster to make his empathetic treasure of a husband wish he was dead and to be glad he’d been the one to pull the trigger.

 Yoongi was lying in Namjoon’s bed that night, his ear pressed just above Namjoon’s heartbeat. They’d spent the evening watching Jungkook hold Seokjin and comfort him after the traumatic events of the day, and while it had been a very taxing time, it had amazed Yoongi at how well his headstrong best friend had responded to Jungkook’s care. Seokjin had been fiercely independent their whole lives and extremely protective of the people he loved, downplaying anything bad or stressful he went through so that they didn’t have to carry the burden in any way. But something about Jungkook had fully dismantled that coping mechanism. It was amazing to watch Seokjin let go and let Jungkook carry his heart when it was too heavy or when Seokjin was too overwhelmed to continue.

“Darling, if you think any louder, it’s going to echo around this bedroom,” Namjoon teased. “What’s going on in your head?”

Yoongi huffed out a laugh. “I was just thinking about how fucked up this day has been. And how nice it is to see Seokjin letting someone help him for a change.”

Namjoon paused for a moment to slide his hand under Yoongi’s shirt to stroke the soft skin of his back, letting the gentle touch soak into Yoongi’s still tense body. “I mean, Jungkook did literally fight for him at a time when no one else would. He smashed Kangdae’s face and Seokjin’s barriers the night he intervened the first time. Just having someone who would try to break someone’s face on his behalf did a lot to let Seokjin trust him.”

Yoongi hummed his agreement. “Yeah. I think it also helps that Jungkook is gentle as a kitten when it matters. I just hope his whole thing doesn’t destroy the progress Seokjin has made with Wonho.”

 The day had really taken it’s toll on Seokjin. He had taken a three-hour nap earlier after his trip to the emergency room, but it was now 10:30 at night and he was sleeping soundly in Jungkook’s arms. Jungkook could feel the terror and anger he’d struggled with all afternoon catching up with him but holding Seokjin in his arms while he slept had helped. He’d been really worried for a bit in the evening when Seokjin had been essentially non-verbal, just latched on to Jungkook and motionless on Namjoon’s couch. He’d been extremely jumpy as well, having nearly jumped out of his skin and bursting into tears when Namjoon’s tea kettle had whistled from the kitchen.

While Jungkook had made a concerted effort to keep his nose out of Seokjin’s mental health treatment (he knew that was a very personal thing), he’d called and set up an appointment with Wonho for the following morning. As much as he wanted to help, Jungkook did not have the skills to bring Seokjin back from this massive roadblock. Seokjin had seemed okay with it until Jungkook had reminded him that he’d have to speak to Wonho alone. He’d begged Jungkook to go in with him and sobbed in his arms. They’d finally come to the agreement that Jungkook would go with him to the office, even walk him into the room where Wonho would talk with him if he needed it, then Jungkook would go into the coffee shop next door until Seokjin was finished. Jungkook wanted Seokjin to have the privacy he needed to talk about things that he may not be ready to tell him, but he had to battle down the protective instinct that rose when Seokjin got even a tiny bit scared.

Jungkook laid there a very long time, pondering over everything that happened and sorting through his own emotions about it. He was immensely relieved that Kangdae would never again be able to approach or hurt Seokjin again. Death is exactly what Kangdae deserved, and as far as Jungkook was concerned, he’s lucky that Detective Jung had been the one to kill him. Smashing that thought down, he snuggled deeper into Seokjin, who in turn nuzzled closer into Jungkook until his lips were pressed into Jungkook’s collarbone and his sleep-deepened breaths sighed into Jungkook’s bare shoulder. The feel of Seokjin’s breaths lulled Jungkook out of his thoughts and into dreams of his own.

 Seokjin woke up the next morning in a haze of terror. Namjoon had dropped his coffee cup in the kitchen and the sound of the smash ripped Seokjin out of pleasant dreams straight into a panic attack. The sound of Seokjin hyperventilating into his chest roused Jungkook, who leapt straight to trying to slow Seokjin’s anxiety. He’d gotten incredibly good at it and Seokjin was slightly annoyed that Jungkook had to do this so often that he’d mastered settling him.

As soon as Seokjin had calmed down enough to be able to breathe normally, they’d gotten up. Namjoon, of course, felt terrible for waking him that way and had apologized profusely while Yoongi grumbled.

“Joon-ah, your clumsy ass is a walking timebomb,” Yoongi fussed as he steamed eggs and buttered toast for their breakfast.

While everyone else sipped coffee, Seokjin steeped chamomile tea. He’d found that caffeine made his anxiety worse, and he was currently vibrating at a frequency that could probably be detected from outer space, so coffee would have been disastrous. They all ate quietly before parting ways to get ready for the day. Namjoon and Yoongi would be returning to work this morning to try to sort the messes left in their wake from the day before. Jungkook would be accompanying Seokjin to therapy then they’d planned to have lunch with Taehyung. As they were getting dressed to leave, Detective Jung called to let them know that they’d be able to go back home after 2 this afternoon. Since he’d called Jungkook directly, he’d mentioned that they’d gathered all the evidence and taken photos before the body had been removed the night before and that a team of professional crime scene cleaners would take care of the space. That way all evidence of Kangdae’s death would be missing from their living room. Jungkook figured that they’d have to buy a new coffee table and maybe a new rug if the stains couldn’t be removed, but that was a small price to pay not to have to scrub brains off the furniture themselves.

Jungkook was impressed with the determination with which Seokjin left Namjoon’s flat that morning, but watched his resolve start to flag the closer they got to Wonho’s office. When they arrived outside his therapist’s office, Seokjin had to stop and take a deep breath.

“Ongoo-ah, I know Wonho is a good man and won’t hurt me, but I’m honestly scared shitless.”

Jungkook pulled Seokjin into a hug. “I know, baby. You’ve had a scary couple of days. But he’s going to help, just like he did before.”

The hug seemed to bolster Seokjin’s courage as he was able to walk into the office holding Jungkook’s hand. He introduced Jungkook to his therapist and to Kihyun (who’d been manning the reception desk) as his boyfriend. That was new. They’d never given their relationship titles before, but hearing “This is Jungkook, my boyfriend” come out of Seokjin’s mouth lit Jungkook up like a fireworks display. They chatted amicably for a few more minutes, and that seemed to be enough to calm some of Seokjin’s fears. He pulled Jungkook into a sweet kiss, then let go of him for pretty much the first time in 24 hours to walk behind Wonho into a room to talk. Pride at Seokjin’s strength bubbled up and Jungkook just smiled at Kihyun before excusing himself to the coffee shop next door.

 Two hours later, Seokjin walked out of Wonho’s office considerable lighter. Wonho had been able to remind him that he was the victim here and should not feel responsible for Kangdae’s death, which he’d been struggling with. He could acknowledge that he hadn’t pulled the trigger or fired the shot that had ended his life, but he’d felt like if he hadn’t agreed to press charges that this may not have happened. Wonho had straight up told him that if Seokjin hadn’t agreed to press charges, there was a really good chance that Kangdae may have killed him. Kangdae was a sick man who needed mental help and to be weaned properly off the many substances he’d gotten addicted to, but his death was the consequence to decisions that he’d made on his own. Seokjin could not take responsibility for those actions.

Jungkook had been sitting at a small table by the window of the coffee shop so that he’d be able to see Seokjin walk up. Seokjin walked up to him and stole the mug he was sipping from out of his hands, being pleasantly surprised to get a mouthful of hot cocoa instead of the dark roast coffee with cream Jungkook favored.

“I figured you might do that, so I opted for cocoa in case you were still anxious,” Jungkook giggled at Seokjin’s confusion. “Ready to go meet Tae for lunch?”

Seokjin downed the last of Jungkook’s cocoa like he was taking a shot before grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the door. They walked hand in hand to the subway to catch a ride to the café that Jungkook and Taehyung favored across town. They loved the café because it was one of the cafés in the city that offered small, cute animals to play with alongside the meal. This particular café catered more towards bunnies.

“No wonder you like this place,” Seokjin laughed when he saw the bunnies hopping happily around the café. “I’m amazed they haven’t tried to keep you, Ongoo-ah.”

The three spent the next few hours sharing lunch and playing with the bunnies, which unsurprisingly seemed to favor Jungkook. As soon as he’d sat down at the floor-seating style table, three separate bunnies hopped over to nuzzle him. A small black one flopped across one of his thighs and took a nap as he stroked its ears with his fingers.

“Ah, hyung! I see you’ve met our newest friend,” their waiter, Soobin, said with a smile when he dropped by with a refill of their drinks. “His name is Soktan. He’s just a baby and has been really timid so far, but he’s only been here a week.”

Seokjin pouted a little at first because many of the small, fuzzy friends seemed to ignore him in favor of Jungkook and Taehyung. It didn’t take long for one of them to get curious about him though. A larger white lop-eared rabbit climbed into the space between where his legs were pretzled under the table and nosed at his hand until he began to stroke its back gently.

“Baby, the sweetie in your lap’s name is Danggeun. She was actually abandoned on the doorstep but hopped in and made herself at home in a big bag of carrots,” Jungkook explained. “All the babies here are available to be adopted to good homes.”

“I’m kind of surprised you’ve never taken one home, Starboy,” Taehyung said.

“Maybe one day. There for a while I was so busy looking for a place to live and getting settled into my job better. I’d love to have a bunny or two someday though.”

After a couple of hours, Taehyung had to get going as he’d signed up for a new art class being offered to his apartment building and they were going to be learning pottery that afternoon. Seokjin and Jungkook bid goodbye to their little bunny friends and started out the door but were stopped before they could open in so that Soobin could catch Soktan who’d been hopping as quickly as he could behind Jungkook. Jungkook paused to pet him one more time as Soobin held him before they left to head back to their own apartment.

Jungkook had anticipated that Seokjin might be anxious about returning to their apartment after the events that had taken place there the day before, but he actually seemed perfectly calm as they took the lift0. to their floor. Jungkook kept an eye on him as they walked down the hall and paused to unlock the door. He was still perfectly calm, which was kind of amazing considering the ordeal he’d been through.

“I already talked to Yoongi-hyung, and he’s going to come by Saturday and help me change the lock on the door. It seems to latch okay, but I’m wary of it since Kangdae was able to pick it so easily,” Jungkook advised as they slipped their shoes off.

The apartment smelled slightly of some industrial cleaner, but looking at the living room, there was no way to tell that anything had happened there. Seokjin sat down in his favorite place on the sofa and patted the space beside him to encourage Jungkook to sit down beside him. He waited a moment for Jungkook to get comfortable before he reached out and took his hand.

“Thank you for today, Ongoo-ah. The bunnies were adorable,” he said with a smile, playing with Jungkook’s fingers.

“I’m glad you liked them,” Jungkook grinned. “We can go back anytime you like.”

They sat there in silence for a few moments before Seokjin lifted Jungkook’s arm to wrap it around his shoulders. “Ongoo-ah, I don’t know why but I feel like I can’t get close enough to you today.”

Jungkook laughed a little bit before pulling Seokjin a little closer to his chest. “How’s this, Baby?”

“Better, but still not close enough,” Seokin murmured before leaning back against the arm of the couch and pulling Jungkook more on top of him.

He hummed a little before Jungkook pressed a soft kiss to his lips, “How about now?”

“Closer,” Seokjin whimpered against his lips before tilting his head to deepen the kiss.

They’d kissed before, so many times. Seokjin adored the way Jungkook tasted and the way he let him lead their relationship, but Seokjin hadn’t been ready to do more than kiss for the most part. Even as he licked the seam of Jungkook’s lips and slid his tongue into his willing mouth, Seokjin realized that Kangdae had shattered something inside him the day before. Kangdae had been holding glass and threatening to slit his throat, and all Seokjin could think about was how he missed Jungkook even from across the room. The biggest part of the fear he’d been held captive by was that he was terrified he’d never see Jungkook again. Seokjin ran his tongue across Jungkook’s and swallowed down the gasp of pleasure that Jungkook let out before breaking the kiss to look into the other’s eyes.

“Ongoo-ah, you still aren’t close enough,” he sighed, teasing the tip of his nose across Jungkook’s cheek. “I need you inside me.”

“Seokjin, baby,” Jungkook moaned. “Are you saying what I think you are? You don’t have to do anything you aren’t ready for.”

“Yesterday, all I could think about when he was holding me hostage and threatening to kill me was that you were across the room, and I missed you. And how I couldn’t bear the thought of never seeing you again. I love you, Jungkook. So much. And I need you closer, need you inside me.”

That seemed to break Jungkook’s resolve. He kissed Seokjin hard, sucking his tongue into his mouth before nibbling on his bottom lip. He pulled away a little, leaving them both panting.

“Let’s do this right,” he whispered before standing and lifting Seokjin off the couch.

Jungkook carried him bridal style down the hallway to their shared bed and gently laid Seokjin on the bed before laughing softly.

“RJ, love, I need to relocate you. You are too innocent to see what we’re going to do,” he said before carrying the plushie into the living room. He came back to the bedroom to find Seokjin laying back on the bed shirtless and his borrowed pants dipped low enough that Jungkook shivered at the revealed skin. Jungkook stripped his own shirt off and tossed it toward the hamper in the corner of the room before climbing on the bed to kiss Seokjin again. Seokjin spread his legs so that Jungkook could position himself in between them as he started to kiss down Jungkook’s neck.

“Fuck, Ongoo-ah. You look so good. I’ve wanted you since the first time you helped me shower. I just had to get my mind to agree with my heart and body,” Seokjin groaned before sucking the skin over Jungkook’s collarbone into his mouth.

For the first time, Jungkook let his hands wander. He’d been so careful not to touch Seokjin, but now that he’d been given permission, he didn’t know where to touch first. He stroked his hands down Seokjin’s chest to graze back up over his sides, bypassing his nipples, as he licked and sucked red marks down Seokjin’s neck to the top of his chest. On the next pass, he teased his fingertips just underneath the waistline of Seokjin’s pants as Jungkook sucked his left nipple into his mouth. Seokjin moaned loudly and bucked his hips up into Jungkook’s and slid his own hands down Jungkook’s pants to get both hands on his ass. Using the leverage he’d gained by the handfuls of flesh he’d grabbed, Seokjin pressed on Jungkook’s hips to grind them against one another a few times. Seokjin had been semi-hard since they’d been making out on the couch, but with the friction of their hips combined with the loose pants they’d both been wearing, he was quickly ready to go.

“Goddamn, baby. We have to get these pants off. Namjoon will kill me if we get cum on the pants he loaned us,” Jungkook muttered before kicking his own pants off.

Seokjin lifted his hips off the bed so that Jungkook could yank the offending garment off his legs and toss them off the bed. Once they were both fully nude, Seokjin pulled Jungkook back down into a searing kiss as he wrapped his legs around Jungkook’s tiny waist. The shift was enough to press their erections together, the pleasure of skin on skin shooting a whimper up Seokjin’s throat as Jungkook sucked another hickie on Seokjin’s shoulder.

“Ongoo-ah, please,” he begged when Jungkook peeled his legs from around his waist to start kissing down Seokjin’s body.

“Shh, baby. Gotta get you ready for me, okay?” Jungkook kissed the words into his skin as he licked his way down Seokjin’s abs. “I promise I’ll make you feel so good, baby.”

Seokjin had been in such a haze since he’d admitted that he wanted Jungkook inside him that he’d somehow missed Jungkook getting out a condom and some lube. By this point, Jungkook was kissing the inside of Seokjin’s thigh even as he warmed some of the lube on his fingers. When it was warm enough to be less of a shock, Jungkook locked his eyes on Seokjin as he softly traced his finger around the pucker of Seokjin’s hole. Jungkook planted one last kiss on Seokjin’s thigh before sucking some of the skin there into his mouth and biting down just enough to leave a mark; at the same time, he slowly started to press a finger into Seokjin. The sting of the bite with the pleasure of having part of Jungkook inside him made him cry out louder than he’d intended.

Seokjin lifted one hand to press across his lips to buffer the next sound but dropped the hand limply on his chest when Jungkook growled, “Baby, don’t you fucking dare. Wanna hear every sound you can give me.”

Jungkook kept up the slow slide of one finger in and out of Seokjin until Seokjin thought he’d die from anticipation. Seokjin begged for a second finger for a few minutes as Jungkook leaned up and sucked one of his balls into his mouth. The gentle suckling made Seokjin lose all coherency for a few moments until Jungkook finally released that one to suck the other into his mouth in tandem with working a second finger inside Seokjin. Jungkook continued this for a few moments, before leaning up to slide his tongue up the underside of Seokjin’s cock.

“No, don’t, Ongoo-ah. If you suck my cock, I’ll come,” Seokjin begged. “Wanna come with you inside me properly.”

“Okay, baby. Be patient, okay? Need at least one more finger before you’re ready.”

Seokjin honestly expected Jungkook to slip a third finger in but glanced down with his eyebrows furrowed when he slid both fingers completely out. He’d been using one hand up until this point, but now he slid the index fingers of both hands inside Seokjin and stretched him enough to slide his tongue in between them. He fucked his tongue in and out of Seokjin for a few minutes, moaning obscenely into his hole like Seokjin was his favorite ice cream. Seokjin started to squirm as he started to feel that familiar burn in his lower abdomen.”

“Goo-ah, hurry. Get inside me. I’m ready. Please, so ready,” he whined.

Jungkook slid his tongue out and plunged three fingers inside to make sure that Seokjin was stretched enough not to get hurt before he sat up on his knees and grabbed the condom off the bed. Before he was able to tear the foil, Seokjin stopped him.

“No. Wanna feel you, only you. We’re both clean,” he said.

After double checking that Seokjin was sure, Jungkook grabbed the lube. He met Seokjin’s hungry gaze as he held the tube up and drizzled lube along the length of his cock. He spread it out with a few slow strokes before leaning up to kiss Seokjin. The tip of his cock brushed gently against Seokjin’s entrance as they kissed, and Seokjin pressed against it as he wrapped his legs around Jungkook.

“Ready, baby?” Jungkook asked, slapping the tip against Seokjin’s hole a few times.

Seokjin nodded frantically, then keened with pleasure when Jungkook finally pressed his tip inside. Jungkook paused for a moment to check that Seokjin was okay and to kiss him gently before inching his way further inside. Seokjin was so worked up that he kept begging Jungkook just to slam fully inside, but Jungkook took his sweet time.

“No, baby. This is our first time and I’m going to make this last,” Jungkook replied.

When their hips were finally flush against each other, they kissed deeply as Seokjin adjusted. Seokjin loved how full he felt and buried his fingers in Jungkook’s hair, just relishing the slight pressure and burn, before circling his hips. Jungkook moaned into his mouth at the motion, and Seokin nibbled on the freckle on Jungkook’s bottom lip.

“Goo-ah, move,” Seokjin panted. “Come on and fuck me.”

Jungkook finally listened and Seokjin would swear he saw fireworks every time Jungkook slid deep inside him. Seokjin held Jungkook chest to chest even as Jungkook thrust inside him. Every press inside him caused Jungkook’s skin to rub against Seokjin’s cock, lighting him up inside.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so tight,” Jungkook growled into Seokjin’s open mouth.

Seokjin had lost the ability to kiss him properly, but still kept his lips where they’d rub against Jungkook’s. He was so lost in the pleasure that he was caught off guard when Jungkook leaned back and draped Seokjin’s knees across his bent elbows. Just lifting them that much shifted the angle enough that Jungkook’s tip pushed against Seokjin’s prostate on the next thrust.

“There, Ongoo-ah. Oh fuck, right there.”

It only took a few more thrusts this way, with Jungkook’s cock zeroed in on Seokjin’s prostate, for him to tip over the edge and spurt cum all over his own tummy. Jungkook fucked him through it then leaned back to pull out, but Seokjin stopped him.

“No. Want to feel you come inside me. Please Ongoo-ah, please,” Seokjin pleaded.

Jungkook moaned loudly before speaking. “Okay, baby. I’ll come inside you.”

Jungkook kept up the same steady rhythm but lowered Seokjin’s knees back down so he’d stay off his prostate. Seokjin leaned up to kiss him, pressing encouragements into Jungkook’s shoulders, neck and jaw.

“That’s it, Ongoo-ah,” Seokjin moaned when Jungkook thrust in as deep as he could. “Fill me up, just like that.”

Something about Seokjin begging to be filled up pushed Jungkook over the edge and he came hard inside of Seokjin. He stayed as still as possible to catch his breath for a second before pulling out. Jungkook watched as Seokjin’s entrance fluttered from the sudden emptiness and his own release started to dribble out onto the bedsheets. Jungkook got up after a few more kisses pressed to Seokjin’s thighs and calves then grabbed a warm cloth from the bathroom to clean them up. He’d been quick enough that the bedsheets weren’t too ruined, so he wiped the few streaks that had soiled them up then climbed into bed to pull Seokjin closer to him.

They shared sweet kisses in each others’ arms as they came down from the high. Seokjin reveled in the warmth and safety of Jungkook’s love. He wasn’t sure that any man (apart from the friend he’d given his virginity to, but that was a different situation) had ever treated him this well. Seokjin had dated and had boyfriends before. While Kangdae was the worst of the bunch, the others were generally nice and treated him decently. But he’d never been with anyone where he could feel the depth of their love for him burn into his skin with every kiss or touch like he could with Jungkook. For all of the fact that his love sank into Seokjin like a brand with every caress, Seokjin knew he’d display the marks on his skin with pride.

“I love you so much, Ongoo-ah,” he murmured into the flesh of Jungkook’s chest that was protecting his heart.

“Love you, Baby.” Jungkook’s vocalization of love stayed with Seokjin long after they’d been said, echoing in his ears even as he fell asleep in his arms.

 The next morning was Saturday, so they were able to wake up gently on their own, no pressures of getting ready for the day or alarm clocks to disturb them. Jungkook woke first, his limbs still feeling loose and relaxed from the activities of the night before. Seokjin was still sleeping with his face on Jungkook’s shoulder and his nose grazing Jungkook’s jawline. Jungkook honestly felt the relief of Kangdae no longer being an issue melded with an insane amount of adoration for Seokjin just flooding every cell in his body. He pressed gentle kisses to Seokjin’s forehead and then his nose, reveling in the sheer sweetness when Seokjin wrinkled his nose at the press of lips. Jungkook giggled at the disgruntled expression Seokjin had at first when he woke up until his eyes met Jungkook’s; then Seokjin smiled the cutest, in love smile, and Jungkook’s heart ached in his chest with love.

“Good morning, my baby,” Jungkook murmured, his voice still crackly and deep with leftover sleep.

“Hi, Ongoo-ah.” Seokjin essentially spoke the words into Jungkook’s lips. “It’s always a good morning to wake up to you.”

“How are you feeling this morning?” Jungkook asked gently. He fully anticipated that Seokjin might be a little sore, both from their lovemaking and from the attack he’d endured.

Seokjin wiggled around a little, seeming to take stock of his own body. “Well, my neck is a little achy from the stitches, and my muscles are a little sore from being so tight from fear. But otherwise, I still feel so good. I love that morning-after-good-sex ache and knowing it’s from you just makes it so much better.”

Before Jungkook was able to say anything more, there was a hard set of knocks at the door. Considering the fact that they were both stark naked under the sheets, Seokjin let out a squeaky cackle at the look of terror in Jungkook’s wide eyes as he jumped out of bed. They’d both invested in bathrobes when Seokjin had moved in, but Seokjin had gone for an unconventional robe because he loved the feel of silk against his skin. Since he’d technically chosen it out of the women’s section of the store, it was a little shorter than a normal men’s robe. Seokjin’s robe was the only one sitting out where it could be grabbed quickly, so Seokjin laughed hysterically as Jungkook slipped the pale pink silk with lace cuffs around the sleeves and dashed out of their bedroom to open the door. The robe itself was just barely long enough to cover his interesting bits, but it would have to do.

Jungkook jogged through the apartment, still tying the flimsy pink fabric around his waist. Luckily, Seokjin was much broader than Jungkook through the shoulders, so most of his chest was covered minus about what would show in a v-neck tee. Just as he tied the belt, he jerked the door open to find Yoongi on the other side of the door with a tool bag in hand. Jungkook felt his entire face turn strawberry red as Yoongi’s eyes roamed over the insubstantial clothing and catch on a spot on his chest. Glancing down to see what he was staring at, Jungkook was even more mortified to find Yoongi staring at a magenta bite mark Seokjin had painted across his skin.

“Have fun with my hyung, Jungkookie?” Yoongi dryly commented.

Before Jungkook was able to stutter out a response, Seokjin appeared at his side in a stolen pair of Jungkook’s sweatpants and a tank top he exclusively wore at the gym for arm day. Seokjin had obvious marks proudly displayed across his chest and shoulders; if Jungkook wasn’t about to die from sheer awkwardness, he’d have been thrilled to see his handiwork decorating the man he loved.

“Yoongichi, stop harassing my boyfriend! I asked him to fuck me, and he did. So, so well.”

“Hyung, I honestly don’t want to know what depravity you two get up to. I’m just a little concerned about what Namjoon is going to say when he gets here after picking up breakfast,” Yoongi whined.

“Oh god,” Jungkook groaned as he covered his flaming cheeks.

“God can’t help you now, you deviant!” Yoongi snarked. “But you might want to go put on some pants because I don’t want to see your barely covered junk.”

Seokjin cackled as Jungkook practically sprinted back to their bedroom, using both arms to hold the silk bathrobe as tightly to his body as possible. Once Jungkook had closed their bedroom door to change, Seokjin lead Yoongi into the kitchen to brew a pot of coffee. Yoongi found safety in silence, and Seokjin was aware of that, but something about the quiet he was currently portraying made Seokjin pause.

“Say what you need to say, Yoongichi. I can feel it eating you up,” Seokjin commented as he pulled some mugs out of the cabinet once the coffee started to drip.

“Are you okay, hyung? Like for real?” Yoongi replied after a moment. “Don’t you think you’re moving a little fast with Jungkook?”

Seokjin took a deep breath in before turning to look at Yoongi. “Honestly, Jungkook is the only thing in my life that is safe and brings me joy. I love him, Yoongichi. When Kangdae was threatening to slit my throat, the primary thought in my brain was that I didn’t want to leave Jungkook. The thought of never seeing him again was worse than the fear of dying in pain. I don’t have the words to say to explain it but, damnit, being with him feels right.”

Yoongi absorbed the words for a moment before saying, “Okay. I just had to ask. I care about you both, you know?”

“I know. I love you too, Yoongi,” Seokjin said softly as he pulled his friend into a hug. “That doesn’t mean we’re going to get together to swap steaming sex stories because I might spontaneously combust if I have to hear you wax poetic about my brother’s dick game.”

Jungkook walked into the kitchen as Yoongi was making a disgruntled face and smacking lightly at Seokjin’s chest while Seokjin’s trilling laughter bounced off the kitchen cabinets. Before he could comment, a light tap on the entrance door announced Namjoon’s presence. Jungkook let him in, still mildly cringing in embarrassment over the obvious marks still glaring against Seokjin’s radiant skin. He followed behind Namjoon, trying to focus on the smell of fresh-brewed coffee to distract himself enough to stop blushing. Namjoon placed the bags containing their breakfast on the counter before turning to greet Seokjin, stopping in his tracks when his eyes found the marks Jungkook had left.

“What the fuck, Seokjin! Did you get mauled by a bear after you left my apartment?” Namjoon screeched.

Seokjin grabbed Jungkook’s hand and pulled him closer to press a kiss on his still flaming cheek, before saying, “Nope, not a bear. Just the cutest little bunny. He was so good to me too.”

Namjoon’s mouth dropped open for a moment, eyes darting back and forth between the two. Before he could say anything else, Seokjin handed him a steaming mug of coffee.

“I think I need something stronger than coffee. Do you have…oh, I don’t know…bleach? Then I can forget seeing any of this,” Namjoon groaned, gesturing wildly at Seokjin’s mostly bare chest.

Part1 Part2 Part3 Part4

#BTS jungkook #jeon jungkook #bts fic #bts #BTS jin #bts jin imagine #bts jin angst #bts jin fanfic #bts jin smut #jinkook #jinkook smut #they are in love #please practice safe sex #my first smut scene #side namgi #side jihope

[hobismilitarywife]

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#not knets getting mad at irene and calling her unemployed like….why are they so rude #im actually so happy that hobi is so open about his friendships regardless of their genders #like ?? they’ve been friends for at least 4 years now #people keep posting side by side pics of him and her wearing the same hoodie when it’s actually from her band #and jihope even posted a pic together wearing the same hoodie…is it because new fans don’t know all this ? either way it’s awful how people #hate for no reason #anyway i read a tweet saying that when hobi saved that cat some time back he went to check up on her three times 😭😭😭 three times ??!! he’s #such a sweetie #how does this man not have a cat yet ?? irene give hobi a cat plej 🥺

[shoot7ngstars]

::: Project Tae {tae x ???} :::

— FOR COMMISSION

#artificialintelligence Based on auto-generated pic-prompts: AI + Barista + Car + College Namjoon, Seokjin, and (member w) are a team that created Project TAE, a car that has an AI-integrated system. One day, TAE disappears after a small malfunction that allowed TAE to make his own decisions. The always so-curious AI, ventures himself outside, seeing the world for the first time. In his own distraction, TAE almost runs a person over. (Member x) is a college student that works in a bar near the campus to afford his studies, even though he has a scholarship. But juggling studies and work, especially with his thesis due date approaching, leaves him stressed out. Because of that, he loses track of time in the library, and he runs out to go to work, knowing that if he arrives late once again, he might get fired. In his haste to reach it, he crosses the road without seeing the car approach, almost getting himself ran over.

MAIN IDEA: The story will not start as Tae x (member x), it will rather be a romance between Namjoon, Seokjin, and (member w), and later on, have a small focus on Tae x (member x)!

I'm still unsure what member should be paired with Tae. The commissioner can choose between Yoongi, Jimin, or Jungkook.

Namjin have a complicated relationship, because they're stepbrothers and in love. Tae is Namjoon's biological brother.

The other team member also gets involved with both of them. My first thought was Jimin or Jungkook, so depending on who commissioners choose to be with TAE, one of these two will be part of a throuple with Namjin.

SEE MORE

#pandora_prompts #bts fanfic #bts au #namjin #taekook ? #vmin ? #taegi ? #namjinmin ? #namjinkook ? #side sope ? #side jihope ? #side yoonseok ? #side jiseok ?

[bookscandlesnbts]

Jikook have the Most Dance Chemistry Bar None

I’ll admit, I do pick my battles sometimes on social media. And one of those battles that I will always die on is that Jikook chemistry on stage dancing is UNMATCHED not just in BTS btw but the entire industry. No one does it like they do. There is a mildly harmless y/n Jimin and JHope biased account that I follow. I say she’s a y/n because I think she has a crush on Jimin and thinks he’s bf material (she’s not wrong) but she doesn’t do or say anything overtly weird. Ya’ll know y/n’s are right up there with tkk for me. She makes mostly cute edits of Jimin. But she just lost me and I couldn’t scroll past it without engaging. She posted a kind of suggestive partner dance between two dancers with intricate choreo and claimed that this would be perfect for JiHope and that their chemistry is unmatched. Now, J-Hope is an EXCELLENT dancer. He’s one of the main dancers of BTS for a reason. His technique level is insane and he is a powerhouse on stage. But his chemistry with Jimin unmatched?? Really?? If his chemistry with Jimin dancing is so palpable why didn’t he lift Jimin in the pas de deux for MMA 2020 Black Swan? Tell me, I’m waiting. If his chemistry with J-Hope is unmatched then why haven’t they done duo stages like Black and White? Why didn’t he do the Own It choreo with Jimin? I think this girl is an aspiring dancer or something, and while we love that and we love having biases, sometimes you have to be subjective. JiHope doesn’t even hold a candle to the level of Jikook when it comes to dancing on stage. I don’t have to take dance lessons to know that. I cited my sources with no response other than agree to disagree. I can’t help but feel like this is another instance of Jikookphobia and downplaying their chemistry. I’ll leave you with this masterpiece to ponder. Oh and keep in mind that chemistry aside, Jungkook was the ONLY member that could technically do this lift. Oh and fun side note, it’s official that I will be getting a tattoo on my trip to Korea this summer done by none other than PolyC and it may be inspired by a certain event that happened during this stage. 🤭 Sorry, couldn’t help but share because I’m so excited. And if you are one of those that wants to act like getting a tattoo by PolyC is an invasion of privacy, then drink some water, touch some grass, and grow up. I’ll gladly block you.

#jikook #kookmin #black swan

[seoul-bros]

Jikook Week 9 Complete ✔️(06/02-13/02/2024)

Their ninth week and the second month in the military is now complete. It's time to celebrate this major milestone with a look back at this week in 2021.

This was the BE era. Between 31/01 and 06/02 BTS member notes were published on TwiX. RM introduced Life Goes On, Jin and JK introduced St ay, Suga introduced Telepathy, JH & JM introduced Dis -ease and Tae introduced Blue and Grey

On the 09/02/21 Run BTS Episode 128 Hello 2021 was released. It was filmed while Suga was out of action with his shoulder surgery but they made sure he was still represented.

This is a really enjoyable episode with a huge number of memorable moments, only a few of which I have included here. It was a studio shoot where they played three games: 1) Liar; 2) Harmonica Song; and 3) Red Light, Green Light.

Liar - All the members except one had the right word and the sixth member is the liar. They all had to ambiguously describe the thing and then everyone had to decide who was the liar.

In Round 2, Jin, king of comedy, had Jihope rolling on the floor.

In Round 3, there was a stalemate and they decided to call Suga to choose between RM and Jimin as the liar. Jimin knew straight away that Yoongi would pick him and he was right. Unfortunately, Jimin was not the liar and we were treated to a JK victory dance.

Harmonica Song - JK was first and as usual Jimin couldn't help but comment on his cuteness.

JK's ear for music reigned supreme throughout the game and he easily guessed Mic Drop when it was Jimin's turn.

At the end of the round, RM and Jimin had to do the penalty and Jimin got the worst of it as RM the God of Destruction struck again.

Red Light, Green Light - This whole last game was a blast. J-Hope went first and JK managed to steal the photo but his victory was short lived. He's so adorable when he gets the giggles.

Jin and V gave us this moment....

...and Jimin who went last was assailed on both sides by Tae and JK.

Tae made a grab for the photo, and it looked like it was all over, but Jin had other ideas.

Great entertainment all round and it reminded me of why so many people became fans of BTS during the pandemic. They were out there spotlighting the group's unique dynamic and spreading laughter and positivity just when it was most needed.

On the 11th February, BTS released its New Year Greetings. They always look so good in hanbok and this year was no exception.

Credit to original Twix posters

Post Date: 13/02/2024

#jikook #bts in the military #jimin #jungkook

[kanmom51]

JM ‘FACE’ Music Show Promotions Sketch 

cr./to the creators of the media used in this post.

So yeah, yesterday just 4 days before JK's single Seven is about to land, after JK's concept photos and clip were released showing us a clear bias and after the BTS book pages about Jikook's Tokyo trip surfaced, surprisingly (or not so much) this BTB was released.

Cannot help but wonder if this was a scheduled release or one of those pieces of content they had waiting in the vault to release at some point, not necessarily yesterday.

Not that I am complaining that we get more JM content, not at all, it's just the timing that feels a little sus to me is all. You know, with the heavy on Yoonmin and little Jihope we got there.

And again, let me make myself clear here. I'm not complaining us getting the content. Both members did visit JM on set to support him and it's great to see this in the content. It's the timing, the editing and on top of that, what we didn't get in past BTB that has me a little on edge.

So, Suga, as we know, came to visit JM on set.

To support him on his first show.

But this.

What did Yoongi mean by this?

"And to build up a good reputation of us".

It's not about JM's performance, it comes straight after he says the reason he came was it was JM's first performance. This is another reason he came - build up good reputation...?

To show they are supporting each other?

Was this said seriously or jokingly?

I'm still not understanding it.

I do have thoughts as to what he meant by it, and I wouldn't put it by him to mean that too, but still hoping it's not that.

Someone else also knows that, I can assure you. Same someone that found his way, with or without the company's approval (let's be honest here, it's without their approval and his way of kicking back) of supporting and promoting JM as publicly and as loudly as he could.

Same person that made a point to comment and let us know on JM's live after his last performance that he did want to come and see JM while recording.

And then we have this:

Yes, this is me bitching. I decided to get all of the shit out of the way before I get to the positive.

"Suga who knows Jimin better than anyone when it comes to performing"? Really? Pushing the Yoonmin a little much aren't we?

He knows him better than Hobi when it comes to performing?

Actual dance leader.

He knows him better than JK when it comes to performing?

The man that literally said this:

But seriously, this is the person that spent hours on end practicing with JM. The person that seeks him out on stage. The person that knows his every move, knows when he's in pain, knows when he is struggling.

Yeah, no matter which what way you spin it, Yoongi is not the one "who knows Jimin better than anyone when it comes to performing".

Wait, be patient with me. I have one more little thing I have to vent about before moving on.

This:

I can only imagine the talk down his bf gave him at home after this. "We're all grown ups, what are you doing?..."

Just like here:

Start at 0:49 seconds. JK talking about JM's live, not listening to Unholy.

I'm with you on this JK.

The need to apologize or pre-warn fans about a little touchy choreography with a woman, god forbid (oh, and btw, in the Korean side of this choreo the men were not touching JM, cause that's way worse, right?).

This is something I would love JM to get over, grow out of, but to tell you the truth, not holding my breath.

Ok, now that all my complaining is done with, let's move on to the fun part.

Now is the time to appreciate the 2 hyungs who came to support him. Yoongi for his first recording and Hobi for the last show.

Hobi's letter. That man is the sweetest man ever. I love him so much and miss him terribly. Can't even imagine how much JM and JK are missing him (I'm gonna add Tae here too, their bond is really underestimated).

And JM's reaction to it all. Priceless. Man cannot allow himself to get emotional on camera. The level of deflecting going on, lol.

We don't see too much of the work process but it's clear that JM pushes himself, most likely too hard (time to mention once again the time restraints that had him over exerting himself). And by the end of it you can see that his chronic pain is playing up, with the visible taping on his arm and shoulder.

I actually think it was way worse. He was REALLY suffering.

Do you notice what he's doing there with his left arm?

😭😭

The level of dedication and work ethic...

Man is absolutely stunning.

And an angel to top it off.

I truly love this young man.

Whoever gets to be with him has won the lottery.

Oh wait, we already have a lottery winner.

#Jimin #JM #JM Face #JM Like crazy #JM SMF pt. 2 #JM BTB

[ask-serendipity-sky]

🐥🐿Pretty little bros💐💐

Play On the Street for bg music, please.

Jihope.

The friendship that puts all others to shame.

These men are #friendship goals.

When I first got to the fandom, I noticed what surrounded Jimin. I'm Jimin centric. But there wasn't much chatter about Hobi's presence in Jimin's life. But at time passed, it became more obvious that Hobi and Jimin were close. And were getting closer. There is no denying that these men are soul mates.

Looking back at old content, jihope always had a stable relationship. A roommate and dongsaeng&hyung bond. Hobi did a lot of instructing and Jimin respected him.

And they both respected and complemented each other's position in the group. They still do.

But as time passed, their bond appears to have grown and stabilized to a degree where you can really say they are brothers, best friends, soul mates.

And it's important to say that sometimes your soul is still growing until it's ready to match with one of its mates. Such is the case with jihope.

Perhaps their bond doesn't need such labels.

Through our screens, we are able to see the respect and admiration they have for each other, though.

We've all been witness to Jimin's journey. He wrote an entire album of this. And now, that he is on the other side, Hobi is still with him. That says a lot.

Not everyone decides to stay with you until things are better and you don't allow everyone to accompany you on your journey.

The same can be said for Hobi. During dark times, Jimin has shown up for him. During happy times, Jimin is still there in Jimin mode for his Hobi hyung.

In Latin America, Hobi is nicknamed "Solecito", little sun. And he has proven to be that to Jimin as they have continued their friendship through the hard times that we've seen and the probable hard times that they've kept from us.

Their friendship is balanced by the fun times and adventures they have decided to share with us too.

At this point, I think we all want to be their 3rd wheel and play sand castles with them.

In an era where "posting for each other means nothing" Hobi constantly shows Jimin support with his cute comments on instagram.

It was Jimin who supported Hobi during Hobipalooza and had a little freak out when he thought Hobi had spanked a dancer's butt.

It was Jimin who was pumped for Hobi because he got to meet his idol, J. Cole.

It was Hobi who took Jimin purple tulips and a hand-written note when Jimin had his debut stage in Korea.

It was Jimin who was there when Hobi shaved his hair for military enlistment.

It is Hobi, it is Jimin that have given us so many amusing and funny moments and sweet memories that we now hold on to dearly.

It is Hobi, it is Jimin...this phrase can go for a while because their friendship and support is visible and ever so present.

I hope we can continue being witnesses to a bond like this.

Jihope for life!

#jimin #jhope #jihope #hobi

[jooyeone]

man i can't get over jihope like jimin really flew his ass to chicago to be there for him physically rather than through phone calls and messages, comfort and ground him through the stress of preparing for such a huge and overwhelming performance, bring back his appetite by eating with him at the hotel, make sure he gets enough rest before and after the show, "we have a timer for this vlive because hyung needs to sleep and i will tuck him in", be there for him during rehearsals and even rap becky's part with him so her appearance wouldn't be spoiled, hyped him up every chance he got, stuck by his side during the rest of the festival, danced and vibed to every one of his songs in the vip section while yelling and making hand gestures to tell him he's killing it, "today i watched you perform as a fan", complimented him on the entire ride back to the hotel, hung around with him on vlive to continue complimenting him in front of everyone, was his "bright light through the darkness" of these past few days basically what i'm getting at is jihope are in this best friends business for LIFE

#like i am here -> #jihope

[here2bbtstrash]

Kick in the door waving the coco hello it's me, your favorite omega here to request some consented somno for Jihope because energized and wired post-concert Hobi using sleepy and flushed eager to please Jimin has rotted a hole inside of my brain the size of lake Michigan. I love you. Did I mention I love you? Okay cool I love you.

OH HELLO LOVE OF MY LIFE !!!! this idea has also rotted straight thru my brain so thank u for sharing it with me and putting it in as a request so i can subject everyone to the jihope agenda 😭 this got soft af because of who i am as a person but i refuse to apologize!!!!!!!

~taking jihope drabble requests all month!!~

pairing: jimin x hoseok wordcount: 1k on the dot 💪 contains: heads up!!! this is literally member x member!!! so perhaps do not read it if that is not ur bag !!! POV switch bc i was feelin feisty, post-hobipalooza hehe, jihope have fucked before but they're not like together (but they Are in love), very small amounts of biting and scratching, anal fingering (w lube ofc), protected anal sex, consensual somno obvi, a little under-negotiated within the context of this specific scene but I HAD LIMITED WORDCOUNT OKAY everyone is FINE WITH IT i swear, dirty talk, overuse of the word hyung bc i'm me, and there are some lines in here that really punch me in the chest emotionally so uhhhh have fun !!

~*~

Hoseok can’t sit still.

He’s got that post-adrenaline energy running through him, giggly and stupid in the afterglow, and Jimin can’t keep up. Not with the bone-deep exhaustion that’s settling into him, his body thoroughly out of whack from waking up on the other side of the world this morning.

Jimin drops onto the mattress like a stone, and Hoseok pounces. He’s all hard angles, slimmed down from stress like this– knees digging starbursts into the duvet, sharp elbows and dainty wrists caging Jimin in as Hoseok covers the body beneath him with his own. 

They mouth at each other, Hoseok really laughing more than kissing. His teeth catch on the plump fruit of Jimin’s bottom lip; his breath comes hot in Jimin’s mouth.

Jimin sinks into the familiar warmth, the fireworks that pop in his gut when their hips slot together. His cock twitches in his pants.

“Jimin-ah,” Hoseok rasps, nose skimming the line of Jimin’s jaw. “This still okay?”

It hasn’t happened in a while. It’s sweet, Jimin thinks, that he asks, even after all this time. He answers with a sleepy nod.

“Tired, baby?” Hoseok croons.

Another nod, this one purposefully cute.

“Hyung’s keepin’ you up, huh?”

Jimin’s eyes blink open– when did he close them?– when Hoseok shifts a little above him. He catches glimpses, slips of honey skin, in the gaps between the buttons of Hoseok’s shirt, bought oversized and now enough to drown in.

This lingering feeling has been surging up in Jimin’s chest all night, and it hits him again with the way Hoseok’s looking at him: overwhelming, right behind his ribs, ocean-deep.

“Not,” he answers, voice mostly air– he’s made himself hoarse, he screamed so much at the show. Hoseok’s pretty painted nails are already dragging down the zipper of his shirt, pressing faint pink lines into the smooth skin they find beneath it.

Jimin is pliant, letting himself be played with. He lifts up enough for Hoseok to work him out of his clothes and tries to remember what he was even saying. “Want you to. I like it.”

“Gonna let hyung fuck you right to sleep?” Hoseok punctuates the question with another sweet laugh and kneels up to strip himself, efficient as ever.

Jimin’s own giggle flutters through him, face flushing a little. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

It’s true, they’ve done this before: just one of those things that happened, growing up together. Sharing cramped bedrooms and ruined sleep schedules and adolescent hormones; using each other’s willing bodies, fucking to shake off fear, adrenaline, jetlag.

With a grunt of effort, Jimin gracelessly flops over onto his stomach. His favorite way to take it. He’s sure Hoseok still remembers.

“‘M your fan,” he slurs into the pillow, the world already smeared at the edges when he tries to look back at Hoseok. “Your groupie, hyung. Let me watch from backstage, took me to your hotel room, so fuck me.”

“Aw, baby,” Hoseok purrs. “‘Course I will. You came all this way.”

Jimin can feel it now, the firm outline of his own cock, filled out and pinned beneath him. He thinks he feels Hoseok’s hands, too, warm on his thighs, guiding them apart.

There’s a click– probably the travel-sized lube Hoseok keeps in his meticulously organized toiletries bag, Jimin remembers that from the last tour– and it’s chased by the warm, wet stretch of Hoseok’s fingers slipping past his rim.

“Fuck,” Jimin breathes. “Feels good, hyung.”

“Just relax,” Hoseok murmurs, pressing deeper, rubbing at his walls. “Open this pretty little ass up.”

Jimin means to answer, but the dark blue pull of sleep weighs his tongue down thick in his mouth, and then it drags him under entirely.

~*~

Jimin’s hot inside, squeezes the head of Hoseok’s cock so right that it works a rough whine out of him.

Hoseok sinks himself in to the hilt and stays there. Barely thrusting, mostly grinding, letting the vice grip of Jimin’s tight little hole suck his mind blank.

It’s so good, Jimin’s body beneath him so sweet, softer and rounder at the edges than he was the last time Hoseok had him. Jimin’s complained about it nonstop, threatened a diet when he gets home, but Hoseok likes him so much like this, with hips that beg for the kiss of fingertip bruises and an ass that jiggles.

“So pretty like this,” Hoseok groans, not even sure if Jimin’s still present enough to hear him, saying it anyway. “Jiminie, baby. Taking hyung’s cock just like he taught you.”

Hoseok drops down over Jimin’s frame beneath him, watching the steady rise and fall of his breath, until his nose brushes at the stretch of Jimin’s spine.

He’s riled up, has been all night, all week, and he can’t keep himself from babbling, the way he always does when he’s close.

“Did that whole show, just thinking of you. Really did mean it, baby. I was in the dark and you, fuckin– pulled me back. Don’t think you even know. What you do to me. Everything’s easier.”

That cord of arousal in his gut pulls tighter, and Hoseok chases the feeling, watches the whole of his cock disappear up inside Jimin on every thrust. Laying all sweet and open for his hyung, cheek smushed into the pillow.

Hoseok grunts, dips to smudge a kiss to the nape of Jimin’s neck, and it's enough. He’s coming, giving a final ragged gasp as he spills into the condom.

It takes a second to get his breath back, and then he withdraws. His legs shake under him as he slips into the bathroom to clean up.

Fuck, at least he’s finally starting to feel tired.

Jimin has rolled over when Hoseok gets back, away from the wet spot– there’s space in this king-sized bed. A luxury from how it used to be, twin dorm bunks with no sheets.

Little miracles, Hoseok thinks, and then Jimin stirs.

“Sleep. Said I’d make you.”

And, well. That feels like a miracle too.

#jihope smut #jimin x hoseok #hoseok x jimin #bts smut #jihope fanfic #sailoryooons #mbox 📮 #jihope month 🌹 #jihope month drabbles 💌 #member x member

[ugh-yoongi]

heart got teeth | knj

(or, the one where namjoon meets his match and isn’t quite sure how to handle you.)

→ pairing: namjoon x f. reader → genre: pwp; smut, angst, enemies to fwb to lovers (kinda) → rating: explicit. minors dni. → warnings: swearing, alcohol consumption, reader is kind of a dickhead for a while but namjoon is a very into it and generally a horny disaster so it cancels out, side jihope because i can, hobi can’t hold his alcohol and namjoon says baby a lot so this is basically canon compliant, this is just porn with a crumb of plot so i will do my best with the explicit tags: kissing, joon has a wet dream, oral sex (m/f receiving), masturbation (namjoon does it a lot, reader once), fingering, i think there’s a handjob, dirty talk, dom undertones but nothing full-on, thigh riding, facesitting, referenced semi-public sex, unprotected sex, hair pulling, one ass slap, very light choking, namjoon is just down really bad idk what else to say. → wordcount: 12k → playlist: 5 seconds of summer - teeth • monsta x - nobody else • waterparks - stupid for you • poppy - all the things she said • namasenda - 24/7 • bastille - goosebumps • monsta x - wildfire → a/n: this is a fic i wrote for an old fandom and reworked/rewrote to work in this context, so if it looks familiar, it is. don’t report me, i promise it's mine. :’) as always, thank you to lauren, jess, and bee for looking this over and catching all my fuckups. you all are the best and i would be a whole clown without the three of you.

To your credit, you truly have no ulterior, unsavory motives as you step inside.

It’s meant to be a simple night out with a few of your friends. A club, of course, because they never pass up an opportunity to go all-out: impeccable hair and makeup, outfits that are more like a second skin, fuck-me eyes with the glossed lips to match, ones that leave very little to the imagination of how low that mouth will go and how it’ll feel once it gets there.

Tonight’s about mourning. No more Seokjin in your entourage, seeing as he’s too busy fucking some boring accountant now. A “one-man man” he’d called himself, and you can’t possibly think of anything worse. There isn’t an accountant on earth hot enough to inspire monogamy.

So, you came to the club. The high-end one your friends like in the city with the hot bartender. Taehyung had wanted to blow off some steam before heading back to Daegu for a few weeks, anyway. Not that he has to wait long—someone catches his eye a few minutes in, leaving you and Jimin on your own.

Just as well. Neither of you have much trouble pulling.

Twelve minutes. Not your personal best, but it’ll do.

You have them pegged from a mile away. The taller one will have money and some sob story about growing up wealthy, fake humility dripping from every word as he waxes poetic about never taking anything for granted, while his friend—shorter by a few inches, hair looking neon red under the club lights, and certainly in his element—will play his good-cop partner in crime. He’s probably very charming, the type who will use his disarming, megawatt smile to secure a seat at the table and learn the drink order and pave the way for the dark-haired one to work his magic.

Because the dark-haired one will definitely work his magic. That smolder alone has probably been the cause of hundreds of weak knees, the kind of look that gets him whatever he wants with few questions asked besides, “yours or mine?”

You don’t bother to hide the disinterested look on your face, which suits you just fine. You know it’s flattering, your honeypot look. All to do with the slightly parted lips, the steeled, blasé stare that men fell over themselves to have focused on them. And, sure, you’ve taken a keen interest in vapid, meaningless sex with attractive strangers, but you aren’t sure you’ll be able to stomach the small talk these two will inevitably require to get to that point.

“Heads up,” Jimin says, nodding to his right.

You snort, hiding the downward tug of your mouth behind your whiskey glass. “I know.”

“Are you not interest—”

Jimin’s question is cut off by the smiley one finally reaching their table, immediately sliding into the booth beside him, both unprompted and unwelcome. Lithe limbs knock unceremoniously against the underside of the glossy table, and you can already see the gears turning in Jimin’s head. He never was able to resist a dancer’s body, which means the other one will be your problem for the evening.

“Would it be okay if I joined you?”

You cock an eyebrow at that. The dimly-lit, grimy club hardly seems like an appropriate setting for that level of refinement. “If you must.”

His bravado falters just for a second. Blink and you’ll miss it. Just as you expected, he isn’t used to being denied anything. “Oh,” he stammers, his eyes darting to his friend on his left who is too busy whispering god-knows-what in Jimin’s ear to notice. “It’s just… my friend,” he tries to explain.

Still gazing up at him, your lips stretch into a challenging smirk. “Mm, I noticed.”

He’s fidgeting. Weight shifts from one leg to the other, fingers flexed around the glass he’s holding before relaxing. “So, can I—”

“I don’t know,” you muse, “can you?”

“For fuck’s sake,” he mutters, his features immediately resetting to appear calm and collected. “May I?”

With a smug grin, you nod, gesturing to the empty space beside you. Your night was bound to be interrupted one way or another, and it’s always better to have it done so by someone so easily affected. There’s something deeply gratifying about making this stranger lose just that bit of control, of seeing his composed mask slip for only a second.

His enormous presence is immediately felt beside you, heat emanating from his flushed skin and calling to you like a siren song. And, god, is he attractive up close, the type of bone structure that plausibly could have been carved from stone, worshiped centuries ago. It takes a lot of self-restraint to not reach out and touch him, to keep your hands wrapped around your glass instead of skimming them along the outside of the thigh pressed against you.

If he’s going to be your only option for the evening, there’s nothing wrong with having a bit of fun, even if you aren’t particularly charmed by him.

Liking him isn’t a necessary prerequisite for taking him home—or to the bathroom, if the situation requires it—and having him fuck you senseless.

This is a game you’ve played—and won—countless times before. Because you can feel his dark gaze on you, each sideways glance lasting longer than the one before. Can see how jittery he still is, as if he feels the electricity between you, too, but is too paralyzed to act on it.

So, really, it shouldn’t be a surprise that you toy with him. He sneaks a glance, you make a show of crossing your legs, the garish club lights reflecting off smooth, soft skin. Another glance and you run your tongue slowly over your bottom lip, pretending to listen intently to whatever Jimin’s saying. You bare your neck to him as you throw back the last of your drink, head lolling to the side just enough to have him wondering how it’d feel to press his lips against the skin there.

A small, private grin to yourself when he sputters and tries awkwardly to cover it by clearing his throat. “Can—can I buy you another drink?”

God, he almost makes it too easy. “I don’t know. Can you?”

There’s a sharp sound as he bangs his fist on the table, jaw clenched in frustration. “I’m not going to ask twice.” Meant as a threat, but you know exactly what it is: just another attempt to regain control. You almost take pity on him. The poor guy really isn’t used to not easily getting whatever he wants.

You lean over, lips close enough to the shell of his ear to make the hair stand on his arms. “You’re lucky I let you ask once.”

He looks positively flustered now, a furious, rapid blush creeping up his neck, and you take his reaction and tuck it away for later. Want to save it, want to memorize the look on his face—the small parting of his lips, the barely-audible groan, the subtle roll of his shoulders. Want to think about it all later, preferably when you’re alone. Maybe in bed.

Jimin’s still engaged in conversation with the one who can’t stop laughing, his eyes lighting up every time he leans in to say something with that heart-shaped mouth only meant for Jimin to hear. When he pulls away from Jimin and turns his attention to you, you’re finally able to take in the lines of his face. Softer than the one you’re currently sitting next to, a bit more feminine, but you know there’s bite to him. Definitely attractive, has that familiar brand of confident swagger, and one-hundred percent Jimin’s type.

You think Jimin calls your name.

You turn your attention back to your friend, who’s looking at you expectantly. “Hm? Sorry, Chim, I couldn’t hear you.”

“Hoseokie-hyung says the next round is on him. D’you want another drink?”

“A few shots of tequila would be lovely,” you smile. “Thanks so much.”

You can feel the man beside you tense as he says, “I’ll join you, hyung.”

He stands, staring at you with a look that says he knows exactly what game you’re playing, giving everyone else all of your sweet and reserving the sour only for him. Seems like he isn’t all that impressed, either, if the tight set of his jaw is any indication. All you bother to offer him in return is a slow, deliberate smirk. Game on.

Jimin leans across the table conspiratorially. “So…? What do you think of Namjoon?”

“Who’s Namjoon?” you answer, nails clacking away as you reply to a text from Taehyung.

“Are you serious?” Jimin frowns. “He’s been sitting next to you all night.”

You chuckle at that. “Why do I need to know his name if you’re just going to fuck his friend?”

“I’m not—” Jimin pauses, pushes his bubblegum pink hair out of his face, chews the thought over. “Okay, I am, but—”

“It’s fine, Minnie. Do your thing. That’s the whole reason we came out, anyway.”

Jimin clicks his tongue. “You don’t like him at all? Not even a little bit?”

“You know he’s not my type.”

“Excuse me?” Jimin nearly shrieks. “Tall, extremely handsome, and rich isn’t your type?”

You roll your eyes. “Stuck-up dickhead isn’t my type. I’m extremely good-looking and rich on my own.”

“I don’t think he’s a dick,” Jimin defends. “Plus, he seems super into you. He was making googly eyes every time I looked over.”

“Guys always look at us like that on a night out.”

It takes a few minutes and a disregarded pleading stare, but Jimin eventually throws his hands up in surrender. “Fine! Just… be nice, at least.”

You quirk an eyebrow. “Why? You planning on keeping that guy around awhile?”

Jimin frowns, moves to protest, but his words are cut off by Hoseok again stumbling back to their table, a massive grin spreading across his face as he sidles up next to Jimin. With none of the same enthusiasm, Namjoon stands awkwardly next to the table, refusing to meet your eye as he hands out shots, two for everyone. Amused, you wonder if there’s a reason he might need to take the edge off. You huff a knowing, soft laugh.

As he reluctantly slides in next to you—distance kept, of course; no contact—you and Jimin move to clink your shot glasses together. You’ve rehearsed this scene a million times before: lean across the table, nearly touching; then, you’ll use a bit too much force, sending the drink spilling over the rim of the glass, sloshing onto the exposed skin of Jimin’s chest, which you lick off with an, “Oops, sorry, babe!” and an innocent smile.

Hook, line, and sinker.

Works every time.

Namjoon shifts beside you, clearly trying to appear unbothered. Some mumbled sentence about the club getting too warm and he rolls his sleeves to his elbows, the slight sheen of sweat covering an expanse of golden skin—the sight of which sends an unwelcome pang of heat straight to your core.

And he doesn’t miss it, either. “See something you like, baby?” he asks, confidence returning with a smugness that doesn’t sit right with you.

“All I see are two sweaty arms, so… no, not really.”

Namjoon studies you, nostrils flared as he tries to seem unfazed again. “You are truly insufferable, you know that?”

“I don’t recall asking for your opinion of me.”

He rolls his eyes. “Consider the first one free.”

“Well, I don’t plan on paying for a second, so I guess you’ll have to sit there like a good little boy and keep your thoughts to yourself.”

He chokes on his drink, sputtering and coughing in a way that has Hoseok leaning across the table to slap him on the back. “Namjoon-ah, are you—”

“I’m fine,” Namjoon snaps, not meeting his friend’s eye.

Jimin, with a knowing look on his face—yet still pointed, since his request for you to be nice has clearly fallen on deaf ears—offers Namjoon a sweet smile. “So, Namjoon-ssi, what do you do?”

“I’m—”

“He’s a psycho,” Hoseok slurs, cheeks flushed from all the alcohol and enough confidence in his answer to wipe the smile from Jimin’s face. “No, wait—”

You try really hard to mask the snort of laughter that manages to escape, but it only worsens when Namjoon says, “I’m a psychotherapist,” at the same time Hoseok clarifies again that, “He’s a psycho?”

“A therapist, huh? That seems important.” You know what Jimin’s doing, still hell-bent on his mission to get you to give Namjoon a chance. “What else are you into?”

“Bicycles,” Hoseok slurs again.

Namjoon groans, tossing back a shot before answering, “Motorcycles.”

“Mm, no, it’s definitely bicycles and you’re lying to seem cool since you don’t even have a license. But whatever.” Then he turns to Jimin, a 24 karat smile on his face as he asks, “Do you wanna come back to my apartment and have sex? I live alone.” Despite yourself and the horrified looks on both Namjoon’s and Jimin’s faces, you have to respect the boldness.

“You’re really drunk, hyung,” Jimin replies hesitantly.

Hoseok just shrugs. “You can stay over. I’ll sleep on the couch and then I’ll make you breakfast in the morning and we can have sex after.”

“So respectful,” you laugh. “I’ll fuck your brains out in the morning, but I won’t defile your honor by sharing a bed with you.”

Jimin seems gobsmacked. “I…” He looks at you, who just shrugs. Not the first time Jimin will leave with someone from the bar and, despite your friend’s initial hesitation, it probably won’t be the last, either. “Okay. But I want a full spread in the morning! All the banchan, too! Nothing weird.”

Hoseok doesn’t press his luck, just tosses some money in Namjoon’s direction, grabs Jimin’s hand, and does his best to stumble out the door while he calls for a taxi.

Namjoon’s presence feels almost overwhelming once the two of you are alone, still sitting too close together on the same side of the table. You know he’s stealing glances at you again, can feel his eyes on you, your skin, as you busy yourself with your phone. Send quick ‘text me when you get to their place and again in the morning’ messages to both Jimin and Taehyung even though they always do and don’t have to be told, but Namjoon’s gaze is heavy and there are implications and questions behind it that, frankly, you’re looking to avoid.

Maybe he’s affected more than he’s letting on. Surely a guy like him—so used to being in control, so used to being chased—isn’t the type to sit around and wait for orders, especially concerning something he wants. And he does want you. That much is clear.

You’ve dragged him so far off course it’s all he can do to tread water. Namjoon is fine with disinterest; not every person in the world is going to want him, despite the ego that tries very hard to convince him otherwise. Sometimes they want the charming, outgoing one instead of the reserved one who doesn’t do anything without a purpose, and such is the reality of being Hoseok’s wingman. That’s fine—really, he doesn’t mind. Always better to go home alone than with someone who isn’t all-in on him.

But he hasn’t been able to figure you out at all.

Worse, you know it.

So, if you accidentally-on-purpose rub your foot along his calf as you cross your legs and smirk at the strangled groan that escapes him, who can blame you?

“Guess that’s my cue to leave as well.” No room for misinterpretation, there. It’s as closed-off and uninviting as it can be, yet Namjoon stays frozen in place, unable to move aside to let you out of the booth. “Well?”

He comes to, coughing a bit as he shuffles into the aisle to his left. “Right, yeah. How are—will—do you need a ride home?”

You roll your lips. “Are you offering? With no license?”

“Yes,” he says, the word breathier than he’d like.

You smile sweetly, a slender finger moving to trace along his jawline. His eyes flutter closed at your touch, thick eyelashes ink-black and out of place against his cheek. Your lips move back to the shell of his ear. “Then no.”

Undeterred, Namjoon gently wraps his fingers around your wrist, keeping you close. “The alternative is giving me your number and letting me know you get home safe.”

“That sounds an awful lot like an order,” you muse. “So, what would happen if I took your number, promised I’ll text, and you never heard from me again? Would I get punished?”

Something dark flashes in his eyes—perhaps your first glimpse of who he typically is, confident and dominant and very comfortable playing this game. “Something tells me you wouldn’t do that to me.”

You smirk, reaching out with your free arm to graze your nails down his side. His muscles flex under your touch, defined and solid, as he hisses. “I think that’s called your ego.” Your eyes trail lower. “Unless it’s… something else?”

“Something else?” he questions. “Didn’t take you for the shy type.”

Entranced, Namjoon watches as white teeth bite down on your bottom lip, your tongue darting out briefly to ease the sting. One brief, fleeting thought about how it’d feel to have that tongue someplace else and his cock twitches in his jeans. Barely an hour together and he’s certain you’ll be the death of him. A million little deaths he’ll willingly endure.

“Like your girls with a dirty mouth, do you?”

All he can muster is a crooked grin. “And if I say yes?”

You laugh softly. “Then I’ll ask you, kindly, to remove your fingers from my wrist and go splash some cold water on that pretty face of yours. You’re about two seconds away from coming in your jeans and not even I dislike you enough to let you embarrass yourself like that.”

His grip on you loosens. “You don’t like me? Don’t you think that’s a bit strong? You barely know me.”

“Oh, were you under the assumption this was something more?” When he doesn’t answer, you extract yourself from him and wink. “Maybe you can think about me later when you’re jerking off.”

And if he spends the rest of his evening doing exactly that? Well, that’s his business.

Namjoon spends the next two weeks doing that, actually.

Your touch is seared into his mind—the feel of your fingers tracing along his jaw, his sides, the way his body reacted to you, an obvious desperation even before he’d let it get this bad, fester this long. The urge was slowly growing out of control, and he told himself each morning that today would be the day, he’d send that stupid fucking Instagram message asking you out—

Because that’d been your play the night you’d met. As promised, you took his number and never texted, just posted a goddamn thirst trap to your Instagram story that was clearly meant for him. Because you knew he’d chase you, figure out some way to find you. Fresh out of the shower, hair wet and droplets teasing down your chest, silk camisole barely hanging on as you snapped a photo over your shoulder in your bedroom mirror. A small winking emoji in the corner as if to say yes, I made it home—alone. And since you’re alone, too, have fun touching yourself.

He’d barely been in bed ten minutes before his pants were pushed halfway down his thighs and he was spilling into his hand.

It became routine somewhere around day six. Instead of sending the message, he’d lose his resolve, fall into bed at the end of the day, and let you consume his thoughts as he got himself off. God, he’d started to get greedy—always wanted more, imagined more, and it never took long. A vague memory of the perfume you wore, a stray thought of the way it’d smell imprinted into his sheets, his skin; the hawkish look on your face as you’d studied him, trying to decide if you wanted to worship him or ruin him.

Bit late for that, Namjoon thinks as he comes into his fist. He’s already ruined.

Part of him wants you to know, wants you to see how undone he becomes just at the thought of you, almost wants you to humiliate him for what he’s just done—and his hips stutter one last time at the thought, shocking him into contemplative silence. That’s new.

Instead, he stands on shaky legs and moves to his bathroom, running a washcloth under cool water to clean off his hands. God, he’s utterly wrecked. He begs his brain to figure it out, get it together long enough to just compose a simple text asking you on a date. The inevitable rejection will quell the wildfire and he’ll finally be able to go more than a second without thinking about you, about how you’ve reduced him to a writhing, nervous mess.

His heart hammers in his chest as he fetches his phone and stares down at an empty Instagram message. Words suddenly don’t seem to make sense as he wracks his brain for a way to phrase his question that won’t make him sound like a complete fool.

I’d like to take you out tomorrow, he types, only to delete it once he realizes the only response he receives will be some variation of “I bet you would.”

Can I… he begins to type again. Quickly deletes that, too, and types May I take you out tomorrow? instead. It still doesn’t feel like enough, he’s sure you’re going to tell him no and tell him to fuck off, but that just means he won’t be disappointed when that’s exactly what happens.

Before he can overthink it, he presses ‘send’ and resists the urge to turn his phone off completely. He can’t remember the last time he was this nervous asking someone out—then again, he was usually able to skirt by on his good looks and a well-executed smolder. Not now, though. Somehow, he’s managed to become ensnared by the one person in the entire country who finds his charm repulsive and off-putting. And it’s not like he can suffer in silence, either. Hoseok had caught on quickly, sometime during the first week, because Namjoon didn’t have much time or desire to go out. He’d been able to fumble an excuse, something about working late, because he couldn’t tell him he couldn’t stop jerking off over a woman who wanted nothing to do with him and still be able to look his friend in the eye afterwards.

Their friendship doesn’t have many limits, but that’s certainly one of them.

He’s halfway to Googling “how to unsend an Instagram message” when his phone vibrates in his sinful hand, his stomach dropping to the floor when he sees it’s from you.

And clearly not meant for him.

It’s a screenshot of a selfie he’d posted weeks ago on his parents’ boat, a picturesque sunset in the background that bathed his silhouette in golden light. Namjoon knows he’s photogenic, looks damn good from all angles and has never taken a bad picture in his life, even candidly, but that one had been especially striking, so he’s not really surprised. He has, however, gone dry in the mouth at the text below it.

Tae, you don’t understand. He’s so fucking hot it pisses me off a little. He’s kind of a dickhead but I’d still fuck the shit out of him.

Oh.

Well, fuck. He certainly hadn’t been expecting that.

His fingers twitch, both to reply to the message and wrap around his cock for the umpteenth time since that night at the club. And he knows the right thing to do is pretend he hasn’t seen it, not mention it, don’t rub your face in it, because if the situation was reversed, he doesn’t figure he’d like someone ribbing him, either. But he’d be a fucking fool to pass this up, so he replies with “Oh?” and throws the winking emoji back at you.

Another ten minutes pass and he’s certain he’s blown it. And then—

He nearly blacks out at what’s on his screen. Desire needles at his skin like a wildfire destined to burn out of control as he drinks in the sight of you, all that naked, smooth skin contrasting against the crisp, white sheets you’re wrapped in. There’s just a hint of indecency, a promise of a whole lot more, and Namjoon suddenly can’t remember having seen anything so perfect, can’t focus on anything except the sound of his blood in his ears and the picture in front of him. Wonders how it’d feel to run his hands over all that bare skin; how it’d taste. What you’d sound like as he took his time unraveling you—if you would even let him.

A whimper escapes him as another message comes through.

You can’t take me out, but I might let you invite me over if you behave and keep your hands to yourself until tomorrow.

“Fuck,” he mutters to himself, already feeling his boxers begin to tent.

You break your kiss and plant your hands on his chest, pushing him backwards into the wall. You’re a vision in crimson red before him, the lingerie leaving nothing to the imagination besides a plethora of unholy thoughts. Fingers twitch at his sides, itching to reach out and grab you.

You take a step back, just out of his reach. “You’re a very dirty boy, aren’t you?” you tease, your head cocking to the side as you take him in. “Can’t ever keep your hands to yourself.”

Lighting himself on fire would feel the same, Namjoon thinks. His blood burns in his veins, thick with such a heavy desire that it consumes him. He’s still fully dressed yet completely unraveled, so hard it’s painful, and he needs you to keep talking, needs you to touch him, needs you—

“Baby,” he whines, his hips betraying him as they thrust against nothing. “Please.”

A slow, sultry smile. “Didn’t take you for the begging type.” He groans again at his words being parroted back to him.

“I’m not.”

“And now?” you ask. “Would you beg for it?”

“Yes,” he says without hesitation. “Whatever you want.”

You quirk an eyebrow. “Are you sure it’s a good idea to give someone that kind of power? You never know what they may do with it.”

The words are out of his mouth before he can reconsider. “Baby, no one has complete power over me.”

He knows immediately he’s fucked, knows it even more when a mischievous smile stretches across your face. You’re so composed, just standing there in front of him as if he wouldn’t drop to his knees and do whatever you asked of him, like you have all the time in the world and this is just a minor inconvenience. As if you aren’t taking him apart at the seams, popping each stitch one by one and letting him hang in freefall. Making him sweat it out.

Beating him at his own game.

“Is that so?” You take a step closer, study him. See the way his eyes flutter closed in anticipation, the intake of breath, almost a plea. “Should we put those words to the test?”

You drop to your knees languidly, still too far away, and look up at him through dark lashes, your tongue rolling across your lips just enough to moisten them and state your intent. “What do you want, Namjoon?”

His name sounds obscene in your mouth. “I—” His brain and his body are at war, too much information to process that he can’t find the words, can’t formulate a single coherent thought. “I don’t, I—”

“Surely someone so in control could use their words?” He’s fucking ruined. “I’m on my knees in front of you and you can’t think of a single thing you’d like me to do?”

“I want your mouth,” he breathes.

“That’s not very specific. There’s lots of things my mouth can do.”

“Like talk a lot of shit,” he responds tartly.

“Yes, but that’s nowhere near as fun as the others.” You huff a laugh as you move close enough to rake your fingernails down his thighs. “Take these off.”

You’re still staring up at him from your place on the floor, your rapt attention doing fuck-all to help the way his hands are trembling. It’s not the first time he’s had a woman on her knees in front of him, but it’s the first time he can’t stop shaking long enough to pop the button on his jeans and drag them down his legs. Usually skilled, deft fingers rendered completely useless.

“You could make yourself useful and help me, you know,” he quips. Another failed attempt at the button before he finally gets it; something between a relieved groan and a hiss as he drags the zipper over his strained erection.

“Would you rather I undo your pants or make you come down my throat?” Namjoon is too dazed to answer. “You need to think before you speak, babe. That smart mouth will get you into trouble.”

“I’m already in a world of it, baby,” he responds, moving to palm himself.

You catch his wrist and move it back to his side. “No touching, yourself or me. You touch me and I stop.”

He barely resists the urge to ask what in the hell is wrong with you, can’t you see how desperate he is, how he’s already at the edge and you’ve barely touched him, that you’ve already won, might as well give in and stop fucking around.

Instead, he barely manages a nod. Plants his hands against the cold plaster of the wall at his back.

And waits.

You’re still kneeling on the floor in front of him, but the smug grin is new. He cocks an eyebrow, whether in question or challenge he isn’t sure, but you ignore it all the same. “How in control are you?” you ask.

“What?”

“No one has complete control over you, right?” You move so you’re laying back, propped up slightly on your elbows. “Would you be in control if I took this off?” you ask, tracing a finger along the lace trim of your thong.

His breath feels thick in his throat. “Yes.”

Hips jut into the air as you shimmy the garment down the expanse of your legs. If he was having trouble breathing before, he’s damn near suffocating now as he takes you in again, laying bare before him. Your nails graze along your skin—slowly, teasingly—and he watches, hypnotized, as they near your core. A hitched breath, wondering if you’re going to touch yourself as he watches. A silent prayer the answer is yes.

And it is. Fuck, it is.

You repeat your question—“Are you in control now?”—and he doesn’t know the answer. He is and isn’t, knows the reality doesn’t quite match up with what he wants to say. It’s a struggle just to tread water, let alone think up some smart response to hide how untethered he really is, to maintain that façade.

“Baby, I—”

“You want to touch yourself, don’t you?”

He groans, his fingers grasping at nothing as they try to dig into the wall. It’s all too much. Sensory overload. The sight of you, the lilt in your voice as you tease him. He’s always prided himself on his control, his dominance, and now that the trap door has given way beneath him and he’s left suspended, he’s simultaneously never felt more terrified and more alive.

“Yes,” he finally chokes out.

Your eyes lock on his as you say, “Go ahead.”

The first stroke brings such relief he’s certain he’s going to black out. A loud, unabashed moan comes with the second. The third—god, the third has his toes curling against the wood floor, that familiar heat pooling in his belly, ready to engulf everything in its path. His thighs begin to tremble as he keeps working himself over, and it’s not a second later that—

It’s nearly the afternoon when Namjoon jolts awake, his heart feeling ready to burst right through his chest. He doesn’t bother peeking under the covers, already knows, without having to look, what a mess he’s made of himself. Again. It hadn’t even been this bad when he was a teenager, and it’s this thought that has him stumbling to the shower to wash away his indiscretions. Sets the temperature all the way to cold as he steps inside, standing right under the spray.

Pathetic, really, how he can’t stop thinking about you. Can’t stop replaying in his mind how you’d felt, how you’d made him feel. The feel of your skin on the pads of his fingers, against his own; the smell of you, the taste of your mouth. The sight of you open and wanting and coming undone in front of him. If you’d managed to overwhelm every one of his senses in a dream, what was the real thing going to be like?

You’d told him to keep his hands to himself, but not even the sting of the freezing water is enough to cool him down, so he thinks about it once, twice, nearly three times before he slips his hand around his cock. What you don’t know won’t kill you, and he’s certainly not planning on coming clean.

Just needs to take the edge off. It’d assuredly be worse to walk around his place all day with an erection, he reasons.

 The wait is torturous. Time itself seems to betray him, the clock barely moving every time he sneaks a glance at his phone. If he goes to hell when he dies, it’ll just be this, he thinks—the maddeningly slow wait for a booty call he can’t stop thinking about.

Because that’s all it is. He has to remind himself of this when it starts to feel too real, too comfortable, like he’s waiting for a date or something more serious than whatever this is. You don’t like him, don't like the way he carries himself or any aspect of his personality at all, really. Usually he’d be fine with a quick fling, a casual hook up or two to blow off some steam. But he’s a relationship, commitment kind of guy at heart, so despite his best efforts, the thought of this becoming something more still creeps in every now and then. A daydream.

Send me your address.

Nerves engulf him as the message comes through, and he must type and retype his response a dozen times before he finally gets it right.

Half hour.

The waiting game again. He moves around his place frantically, tidying and straightening, lights a candle, changes into something more presentable than joggers.

There’s a knock at the door and he swallows hard, tries to muster up some of his old confidence again. This isn’t him. Namjoon has never been reduced to a pining, uncertain mess, and he’s so off-kilter he barely manages to make it to the door before the third series of knocks.

As he pulls it open, his face drops unceremoniously. You aren’t standing on the other side, ready to greet him with a sultry grin. Instead, there’s a gangly-looking teenager in a uniform, his hat askew as he holds a pizza box.

“Uh, hi. Can I help you?” Namjoon asks, peering around the kid to look out into the hallway.

“I have a small sausage for you,” comes the response. Nasally and bored.

Namjoon chokes, the choice of words catching him off-guard. “I didn’t order a pizza.”

“Are you Kim Namjoon-ssi?” He nods. “Then this is for you.” The kid tries shoving the box into Namjoon’s hands, but he takes a step back.

“I promise you, I did not order a pizza.”

“Look,” the kid sighs, all politeness tossed aside immediately, “it’s already been paid for. Just take the damn box and throw it away if you don’t want it. I really don’t give a shit what you do with it, but I’ve got other deliveries to make.”

Eyes narrowed, Namjoon grabs the box and slams the door, opting to ignore the muffled you could’ve at least tipped me, you cheap asshole from the other side. Tosses the pizza onto his kitchen counter and stalks towards his bedroom where he’d left his phone.

Did you send me a fucking pizza? he types.

Told you not to touch yourself, comes your response.

It’s another week before he can convince you to see him.

A week of borderline begging—because he refuses to actually do so—and teasing and whispered confessions he doesn’t think twice about. He wants you. He wants you so badly he’s dizzy with it, and he’s done playing games. His desire is out there already and it’s obvious. No point in acting coy now.

You agree under the condition the two of you meet at the club. Have a few drinks with Jimin and Hoseok. No doubt to prolong his suffering, Namjoon figures, but he agrees all the same, willing to play along. He just wants to see you; hopes maybe being face-to-face will extinguish some of the heat.

But it doesn’t.

Of course it doesn’t.

You’re barely in each other’s company twenty minutes before he lets you drag him down a quiet corridor and into an empty bathroom. You let him press you against the sink, dress hiked up around your thighs; let him press a desperate, searing kiss to your mouth, all tongue and teeth and sighs of relief.

The first time scratches the itch. It’s quick—almost embarrassingly so—and rough, right there in the club, and all Namjoon can think about is the taste of you, how all those daydreams hadn’t done you a lick of justice. Swears stars pop behind his eyelids and he can hear a choir. You had been stunning in all his fantasies, but up close, in person, you’re so much better. As if your body is meant only to bring him to his knees, to make him surrender.

Namjoon very quickly realizes he’s got a problem on his hands.

There’s no way he’ll be able to let you go—already can’t stomach the thought of you being with anyone else. He doesn’t want to be with anyone else, and he curses at himself for letting it get this far, for letting someone ruin him this way. He knows without having to hear you say it that you aren’t the type to be tied down. Probably goes running at the first sign of attachment. But he can’t help himself, torn between touching himself to the memory of the way you felt around him and the thought of what it might be like to have something more.

The second time you come to him. Press him against the wall in the entryway and drop to your knees, your mouth working him into a frenzy before he can barely mutter a greeting. Fingers itch to tangle into your hair when he remembers his dream, wonders if he’s allowed to touch you like that, hopes that maybe he isn’t.

He wants you to destroy him.

“Baby,” he says, a fractured moan punctuating the sound of your name that follows. A hand joins your mouth in moving along his length and he swears. “Baby.”

There’s an obscene noise as you release him from your mouth, a trail of spit barely connecting the two of you as you look up at him with a gaze that’s been seared into his memory for weeks. “What?”

“I—fuck.” Your hand’s still working him, still doing that thing where it twists on the upstroke that has him feeling like all the air’s been punched from his lungs. “I want you,” he breathes. “I want—wanna make you come.”

A smile betrays you, the corners of your mouth turning up just enough for him to catch. “Do you want it?” Your free hand moves to his thigh, kneading at the cords of muscle there. Fingers dig into the crease at his hip, the ditch of his knee. “Or do you need it?”

“Yes,” is all he manages to say.

You sit back on your haunches, looking straight out of his wet dream as you stare up at him, bottom lip tugged between your teeth. “Go sit on the couch,” you instruct.

If he’s ever moved faster, he can’t recall when. You follow slowly, items of clothing dropping behind you as you go, only your matching lingerie left by the time you reach him. His breath catches again, both in awe and in anticipation. Yes, you’re stunning, but Namjoon can’t remember anyone else having ever invoked such a strong response from him. Every part of him needs you.

You straddle him, legs anchored at his sides as he grabs the back of your neck to pull you into a kiss. You’ve kissed dozens of times before, desperate, more teeth than anything else. This one he’s determined to take slow, take his time, savor you.

And as soon as he feels you tense, as soon as you pull away and move your lips to a spot just below his ear, he knows he has the answer to a question he never bothered to ask.

Teeth graze his earlobe. “I’ve been thinking about these,” you say, your palms dragging up and down his thighs. “Wanna get myself off on you.” And just like that, all those thoughts of something else are pushed to the back of his mind.

A loud whine escapes him, hips rocking forward to press his erection against your clothed center. Decides to take a risk and dig his fingers into your hips, a stray hope he might leave a mark, have just that bit of claim to you. Uses his leverage to situate you onto one thigh.

“By all means,” he says, lips moving against your collarbone. Hooks the fabric of your thong to the side, hands still on your hips to begin moving you. “But I want to feel it. All of it. Want to watch you make a mess on my leg.”

You move slowly at first, trying to find a balance between what you need and the tempo Namjoon is setting. A relieved moan when you find the right combination, and Namjoon matches it when he feels how wet you are. You move unabashedly, plant your hands on his chest as your hips grind faster, more frantic. Namjoon covers your hands with his own, fingers moving over yours as he digs your nails into his chest, drags them down far enough he knows they’ll leave marks. Thrusts at the thought of being marked by you, of having a reminder to come back to in the morning when you’ll inevitably be gone.

“Fuck, Joon,” you moan. “Feels so good.”

Hands still covering yours, Namjoon moves one to his neck, praising you as you tighten your grip around his throat. “That’s it. Just like that, baby. You look so beautiful using me like this.”

Namjoon can tell how close you are long before you ever bother to tell him. Sees the slight falter of your motions, feels you press yourself harder against him, desperate for more friction, the light sheen of sweat forming at your brow. He wonders, briefly, if you’ll actually let go, if you trust him enough to let him bear witness to you coming undone.

His question is answered as you break into a shaking, gasping mess, collapsing into his arms as he wraps them around you, tangling a hand in your hair and pressing kisses to your temple. Rains praise down upon you, tells you how thankful he is to be able to witness it. Wants to commit all of it to memory—your heaving chest, trembling thighs, the sounds you make as you come down from your high, the dazed look in your eyes as you open them and meet his own.

Knows he’s going to say something stupid, so he crashes his lips to yours, hungry for you in a way that honestly terrifies him. A way he’s never wanted anyone else. And he knows that’s the catch with you, knows this has an expiration date, and so he pushes this thought to the furthest corner of his mind. Knows he has to stay in the moment lest it all comes spiraling down around him.

He grabs the back of your thighs and stands from the couch, waits for you to wrap your legs around his waist before he moves toward his bedroom. Isn’t sure he’ll be able to make it, thinks about just fucking you into the wall in the hallway, but judging from the state of his leg, he doesn’t think he’ll be able to afford the dry cleaning bill if the two of you stay on the couch.

Obscene words spill from your mouth with each step he takes and he spares a moment to marvel at his self-restraint. Wonders when he’d acquired it, because he seems to have lost all of his old sensibilities when it comes to you. “Want you so bad,” you say, words nearly a purr as you speak them into the crook of his neck. “Just fuck me right here.” You use his grip on you to roll your hips, slick center gliding along the length of his cock.

He groans at the contact, lets your words wash over him and bathe him in your indecency. You roll your hips again, a lewd temptation and always a challenge. You want to tempt him straight to the edge and watch as he goes over, want him to regain control and lose it over and over again, want to ruin him for anyone who comes after you. And Namjoon knows you’re going to, knows this has already gone too far despite only having just begun, and he feels the anger seep in alongside the lust, though he can’t tell who it’s directed at. Probably himself, but that doesn’t reign him in.

He presses you against the wall of his bedroom, presses a searing kiss to your mouth—that dirty, unrelenting mouth of yours that never seems to stop—and he wants to kiss you breathless. Wants to shut you up, wants you to surrender, to beg, wants a million things he will never get.

And, all along, you were right. He always wants. Wants you, wants more, wants impossible things. Despite having you exactly where he wants you right now, you’re going to leave. You’re going to leave and he’s going to be left behind, wanting and destroyed and longing, and he’s none too impressed to be on this side for once.

Because, as he moves you to the bed and drapes his body atop yours, your words echo in his mind:

Want you so bad.

Want.

Not need. Never will be need.

“You drive me fucking crazy,” he says, hands everywhere at once, the feel of you beneath him nothing more than an answered prayer. His fingers move lower to your clit, teasing, circling slowly. “Tell me what you want.”

“I want,” you drawl, fingers tangling in his hair and tugging, and he gasps at the sting, “to watch you. I want to see exactly how good I make you feel.” His hips move of their own accord, pressing you further into the mattress. He’s so fucking hard, can barely believe he’s still conscious, and he’s absolutely drunk on the reality of you. “Do you want that? Want me to ride you until you come?”

“Fuck,” he moans. “Yes.”

You pull at his hair again, forcing him to look at you. “Then say it. Tell me you want it.”

“Fuck, baby, yes.” Slips a finger inside your cunt, desperate to make you as needy as he is. Pumps once, twice, before he adds a second. “Want you to make me come. Want all of it. Everything.”

A wordless demand for him to roll over as you nudge his shoulder, but not before your hips jerk upwards to meet his fingers, seeking him even though you’d never dare admit it. He smirks down at you, cheeks dimpling, moves his thumb back to your clit just to watch you writhe. Traces slow circles again just to listen to the way your breath hitches, to hear the small, gasping pants against his neck. Applies a hint more pressure just to feel your muscles clench tighter around him, the grind of you against his hand, hungry for more even when he’s ready to give you everything you want.

“You’re close, aren’t you?” he asks, delighting in the whines spilling from your mouth. “First my leg, now my fingers. I think you’re getting greedy, baby.”

You glare at him through lidded eyes. “Maybe I should hold it in. Think twice about stroking that massive ego of yours.”

He finds your wrist and grasps it loosely, moving it down his body to his cock. “You can stroke something else, if you’d prefer.”

You take him in your hand, pumping slowly. Gather the beads of precome at the head and move down the shaft and back up again. “Notice you didn’t mention anything about it being massive. Is that what the ego’s for? To compensate?”

Anyone else and he might be offended. But, coming from you, it’s just a challenge. Another jab. The game you love to play and have become very, very good at. A lesser man might not be able to handle it, but Namjoon… Well, it’d been his game first, after all, and he knows better than anyone that the only way to win is to not play.

So, he withdraws his fingers right as you’re at the edge. Makes a show of putting them in his mouth and sucking them clean, does his best to ignore the obscene jolt of arousal as you mutter a “Jesus fucking Christ” under your breath. “That’s not a very nice thing to say, baby.”

You roll your eyes, releasing his cock from your grasp. “So what? I’m being punished?”

“Only nice girls get to come.”

He’s on his back before he realizes he’s moved. Your fingers are wrapped tight around his wrists, pinning them above his head. A truly wicked grin forms on your face and he wonders, briefly, how anyone survives you. How no one has combusted under the sheer force of you and that look and everything that comes after it. Namjoon wants to burn beneath you for centuries, or however long you’ll allow.

Your body moves languidly up his own until your core is positioned over his face. “Maybe so, but nice girls don’t take what they want, either,” is all you manage to say before he wrangles his wrists out of your grasp and grabs onto your hips roughly, pulling you down against his mouth.

The first kiss he presses against you is soft, teasing. You groan, curse at him for being a tease, and press harder against his face. He flattens his tongue as he laps at you, desperate and hungry for your taste, pausing every so often to slap your ass, tell you to take exactly what you need from him. As you move above him, hips rolling against his mouth, his own body writhes at the heat between them, the brazen frenzy that’s taken over you.

He’s not sure how long he spends between your legs, but he knows it’s not long enough. He’d spend forever there if he could, drunk on it. You taste divine, and he tells you as much over and over, words spilling from his mouth when you aren’t putting it to use.

Thighs, still anchored on the sides of his head, begin to tremble, energy still pent up from the orgasm he’d denied you. He considers doing it again, payback for all your teasing and that smart mouth, but his body betrays him before he can even make up his mind, tongue flat and anchored against your clit as you grind and roll your hips across it. God, he never thought he’d get off on being used like this, always thought he needed to be in control to enjoy sex, but nothing about you has ever really made sense to him except that he can’t get enough.

As you come a second time, all he can do is gaze up at you in admiration. He wants you to take the piss out of him, loves watching the twinkle in your eyes as you scheme up some tart response. He wants the denial, the what-ifs, the second-guessing that always ends with you a blissed-out, moaning mess on top of him. Even now, when you’re exactly where he wants you most, it’s not enough. He still wants more.

He maneuvers so you’re eye-to-eye. Allows himself only a second of pride at how disheveled you are before he wraps his hand around the back of your neck, pulling you into a rough kiss. Receives a whimper as you taste yourself on his lips, his tongue, his face. Blindly, you reach behind you for his cock, hand wrapping tightly around the base as you pump him. Whispers something about returning the favor, about making him feel good, but Namjoon’s focus went to shit hours ago. Nothing exists in this moment—in this room, perhaps in his entire world—except you.

“Come on, baby,” he urges, situating himself against the headboard. Even though you’re inches apart, he can feel the heat emanating from your cunt and his cock twitches, seeking your warmth. “We’ve gotten a bit sidetracked. I believe you promised to ride me until I came.”

You grip him again, aligning his length with your center. The head of his cock teases against wet folds and he moans, earning him another knowing smirk. “Beg me,” you say.

“What?”

Another roll of your hips, another fractured gasp. “Do I need to repeat myself?”

His brows furrow in annoyance. Says your name in a way that sounds like a slur. “This isn’t funny.”

You lean down, hair draping your face. “Who’s laughing?” you ask before you lick a long stripe up his neck that causes goosebumps to erupt all over his body. “Beg me.”

“Please,” he breathes, the word sounding more familiar than he ever thought it could. “Baby, please, I—I fucking need you so much.”

“Do you?” you tease, fingertips tracing the ridges of his muscles.

Namjoon grabs your chin, forces you to look at him. “Stop teasing me and ride my fucking cock.”

Eyes go wide, pupils dilated at his dominance, the flaring of your nostrils giving away exactly what you think of it. But you smile all the same and sink down on him agonizingly slowly, take the first inch when you say, “As you order, sir,” sardonically.

You feel like heaven.

He’s not sure he’ll ever get used to it—not sure he’d even want to. Being able to experience you over and over, every time feeling like it’s the first… Namjoon isn’t a religious man, but having the privilege of having you so intimately is the closest he’ll ever get to seeing god.

“Fuck,” he moans.

Blinding, wet heat surrounds him as you take all of his cock. Don’t bother taking any time to adjust, just start moving immediately. His eyes roll back in time with the roll of your hips, back and forth the way you rode his thigh. One hand on your hip to brace you, the other palms at your breast, rolls your nipple between his fingers. The moan that escapes you is borderline pornographic. Lust overtakes him, primal and raw, and he moves his hand to join his other at your hips, holding you in place as he thrusts into you roughly.

“A masterpiece,” he praises. “You look so fucking beautiful bouncing on my cock. I’ll never get tired of watching you.”

He’s determined to make this as good for you as it is for him, determined to redeem his first performance. Tries to focus on anything he can besides the sharp slap of your skin meeting, the way your body clamps around him like a vice. But you love to torture him, don’t you, because you’re just as determined to put on a show. You toss your hair back, preen under his watch. You’re an absolute goddess, the most beautiful thing Namjoon has ever seen in his entire life. Perhaps stronger than his determination to make this good for you is his determination to keep you.

He’s a jealous man. He knows this about himself, has had plenty of time to make peace with it. And he knew from the second he laid eyes on you that he didn’t want to share with anyone else, knew he didn’t have the right, but now he thinks the thought alone might kill him.

So, he rolls you over, pins you beneath him so he can fuck you exactly the way he wants. “What are you doing?” you ask, eyebrows raised as you study him.

Proving something to you, he wants to say. Wants to be the best you’ll ever have, ruin every other partner for you. Wants so many things his head is swimming, and as he pushes into your tight, wet heat again, he wonders if he’ll be okay if this is the only one he ever gets.

His pace is slow, sensuous. “Fucking you,” he finally replies. “That alright?”

A loud moan as he adjusts the angle. “More than alright.”

He keeps on like this until he feels himself start to unravel. Starts in his toes, moves to his stomach where it branches out, warm and enveloping. Still, he stays even-keeled despite everything in his body screaming for more. Yours, too—the curling of your toes, your nails digging into his back, pulling at his hair. Your coarse, ragged breaths as you ask for more, more, always more.

“You feel so fucking good,” he growls into your neck. “Incredible, baby. Touch yourself for me. Make yourself come on my cock.”

You moan again. “Why? Can’t get me off yourself?” you tease, but it’s short-lived as he finally increases his pace, slamming into you hard before you can utter another word.

“You were saying?”

He expects another snappy reply, your smile catching him off-guard as he looks down at you. You’re touching yourself just like he’d said to, fingers working at your clit in slow, lazy circles. Another growl as he drinks in the sight of you.

“You like watching me, don’t you?” Namjoon nods. “Then tell me: how do I look?”

He squeezes his eyes shut, knows he’s not going to be able to hold off the longer he stares. “Like perfection.” You seem to whimper at his words. Just another sound he commits to memory.

A few more thrusts before his movements become erratic. He can feel how close you are, wills himself the strength to hold on just a minute longer—plans that are immediately forgotten as he feels your orgasm hit you, your walls clamping around him so tight his vision goes black.

“Fuck, fuck, oh fuck,” you cry out. Namjoon nuzzles into your neck as he follows you over the edge, coming so hard he can’t remember his own name.

Minutes—maybe hours, maybe even days—pass between the two of you, not a sound to be heard except jagged, labored breathing. Once he regains some semblance of consciousness, Namjoon pulls back enough to press a soft, lingering kiss to your lips.

“You’re going to be my undoing, baby.”

His memory’s not so great, but Namjoon thinks he properly falls for you the tenth time you meet up.

It’d been nearing eleven-o’clock on a Tuesday night, thunder rumbling off in the distance, when you texted to ask if you could come by, which had been out of the ordinary. The two of you never met during the work week—a rule you had never clearly stated but one Namjoon had quickly picked up on nonetheless—so he hadn’t known what to expect when you knocked on his door.

“Bad day,” was all you’d said as you shrugged off your coat and pressed a hungry kiss to his mouth.

He’d wanted to ask why. Wanted to know what’d happened, but it wasn’t his business, your relationship not like that. You’d come over for sex, not for him to play therapist. Namjoon knew this, but as he pushed the fabric of your underwear to the side and pressed his mouth to you, he also knew your heart wasn’t completely in it, so he’d told you to make yourself comfortable in his bed while he made some tea. (He hadn’t bothered to mention he’d picked up your favorite brand while out shopping the weekend before, of course, because that would’ve been weird. It would’ve implied things. So, he’d simply fixed your tea and ignored your questioning stare when you took a cautious sip and hoped you knew he cared about you beyond the little arrangement the two of you had found yourselves in.)

(He hadn’t bothered to tell you that, either, of course.)

But the mind is a traitorous thing. As much as he’d wanted to stay logical, his brain and heart teamed up to conspire against him, to wonder and hope for things that couldn’t possibly have been true. Because, as he fell asleep wrapped around you, he’d found comfort in knowing you’d had a bad day and came to him.

Somewhere along the line, things had shifted. The two of you started laughing together, forming little inside jokes. Started texting about things beyond “your place or mine?” You became softer. Not any more available, at least emotionally, but you’d seemed to relax in his presence. Let down a wall or two.

And it’s been downhill ever since, really.

Your meetings have grown more difficult. Feelings had become involved months ago, and Namjoon comes close to admitting them out loud nearly every time you’re together. Sometimes, on Fridays, he lies and says he has to work late; on Saturdays, he has to “take an emergency weekend appointment” or “make a trip back home” to visit his parents for pretend birthdays and anniversary parties. He knows the two of you have an expiration date and he does what he can to prolong it, even when it’s dishonest.

Until, eventually, he can’t anymore.

Until he’s finally out of lies and agrees to meet you at the club, where he has one too many drinks to hide how stupidly smitten with you he is; too many drinks to forget that you don’t feel the same.

Until he’s so drunk he can barely stand and you offer to split a cab with him back to his place to make sure he doesn’t pass out and choke on his own vomit and he declines.

Until you tell him to stop being so goddamn stubborn because you’re just trying to help, you’ve seen him this fucked up before and it’s nothing to be embarrassed of, he’s too drunk for you to feel okay sending him home alone.

Until he tells you no, he isn’t embarrassed, he just can’t be around you any longer because he’s fallen for you and you don’t feel the same and he can’t keep hurting himself by trying to keep you.

Until everything comes tumbling out of his mouth and he thinks he feels the world tilt.

Then, you don’t say anything and just stare at him with a slack jaw and a mildly displeased expression as he calls Hoseok and slurs all his words when he asks him to come pick him up.

Then, he convinces himself you only looked that way because someone like you isn’t used to being rejected, that’s it, nothing more.

Then, Hoseok shows up and Namjoon doesn’t bother to look back as he leaves, missing the tears well up in your eyes.

When he wakes up on Sunday afternoon with a mind-splitting hangover, he remembers just enough of the night before to marinate in his self-loathing. He’d fucked up a good thing. Sure, you and him hadn’t put a label on whatever the two of you were, never bothered to define it, but you didn’t really have to. The no feelings part of the contract had been implicitly stated from the beginning, highlighted in neon yellow and underlined for added emphasis.

But there’s relief, too. He’d told the truth, was hurting himself to keep you, and now it’s over. He doesn’t have to worry about the unknowns anymore—what (or who) you’re doing and how you feel about him.

Because weeks of radio silence go by, so that tells him everything he needs to know. He knew you wouldn’t chase him so he’s not disappointed, but he’d allowed himself a strand or two of hope nonetheless that still feel crushing at times. Mostly on Friday evenings after he showers off his day and climbs into an empty bed, just wanting to hear his phone chime with a text from you asking to get together. Those strands of hope feel worse when he falls asleep alone, no unread texts except some stupid memes from Jungkook he doesn’t understand.

It doesn’t help that Hoseok’s properly seeing Jimin now, so he can’t fully escape you. Still hears bits and bobs about you and what you’re up to, still sees you in the background of Hoseok’s Instagram posts from parties Namjoon declines to attend.

He doesn’t know how long it’s supposed to take to get over a fling, but he can’t help but feel it’s taking an awfully long time.

Another month goes by. Nearly five since the first time you two had met. Namjoon starts to feel normal again; stops waiting for texts that never come and stops avoiding Hoseok because there’s only one thing he wants to talk about, and Namjoon hasn’t quite been in the right place to hear it. But he figures another four weeks have done him some good so he agrees to meet him at their favorite restaurant and they drink until they’re tipsy.

He doesn’t ask about you and Hoseok doesn’t mention a word, just says things are going well with Jimin and he’s planning on making it official soon. Namjoon doesn’t have to fake his enthusiasm and it feels nice. Normal. He doesn’t even make a thinly-veiled threat when the check comes and he sees Hoseok’s back to his old tricks, ordering all the most expensive items on the menu when it’s Namjoon’s turn to pay, just hands his credit card to the server.

It’s another four days when someone knocks on his door at nearly ten-thirty at night. There’s a sinking feeling in his stomach that tells him exactly who’s on the other side before he can pull the door open.

“Oh,” he breathes, unable to keep the surprise out of his voice even though seeing you is anything but.

It bothers him how affected by you he still is, how you’re still able to take his breath away despite not seeing you for months. And you’re still stunning, of course, so it makes sense he’d still go dizzy at the sight of you. “What are you doing here?” he asks.

Cautious eyes stare up at him as you swallow. “Can I come in?”

He fidgets, weight shifting from side to side. “Do you think that’s a good idea?”

Braces himself for a quip that doesn’t come. Instead, you shrug and avert your eyes, staring blankly at the wall outside his door. “No, probably not,” you admit. Your tone is quiet, almost soft. That signature smug look is nowhere to be found, and months ago Namjoon would’ve loved this, would’ve delighted at seeing you so vulnerable, but now it just feels all wrong.

He coughs to clear his throat. “Did you, uh—is there something I can do for you?”

“I came to apologize,” you say, though it almost comes out more like a question. “I should’ve called sooner.”

Namjoon blinks. Of all the things he anticipated coming out of your mouth, an apology wasn’t one of them. “Oh. Well, you have nothing to apologize for. I’m the one who—” Ended things, his brain finishes, but he can’t bring himself to say the words. The two of you were only fucking, and ‘ending things’ makes it sound like more than what it was.

“Right,” you agree, though he can tell you don’t want to. “Okay. Well, I guess I’ll just…”

Unsure of what else to do, Namjoon simply nods. His fingers are digging into the door frame so hard they’ve started to turn white, and it’s all he can do to hide how badly they’re shaking. He’s anxious. Why is he so anxious? It only gets worse as he watches you exhale a steadying breath and turn on your heel, not bothering to look back at him.

His brain is screaming at him to go after you. After all, hadn’t he just spent months wishing for this exact thing to happen? But that kind of thing is only meant to happen in movies to people who are in love, and after all this time, he still hasn’t got a clue of where he stands with you. Showing up at his place unannounced should mean something, but you hadn’t pushed when he declined to invite you in, so he figures it was simply for a belated goodbye fuck. But…

“Hey!” he yells down the hallway. There’s relief when you pause and turn around, even though you stay where you are, don’t come closer, but that’s okay—you don’t need to. “Why did you really come here?”

A slow, neutral smile graces your lips. Not sad, but not happy, either. “Guess I figured things out a little late.”

Namjoon’s brows knit together, feels the crease between them. “What, that you miss fucking me?” He doesn’t mean for it to sound so brash and crude, but he supposes it needs to be said regardless. If any of his neighbors happen to overhear him say it, well, he also supposes they would’ve heard everything that came before, too.

“Of course I miss fucking you,” you reply, not bothering to lower your voice at all, “but I think I miss everything else a little more.”

“Everything else?”

“You bought my favorite tea,” you shrug. “And let me in when I had a bad day.”

He still doesn’t understand. “You told me you didn’t like me,” he says. “I wasn’t aware that’d changed.”

“Because I hadn’t told you.”

“And that’s why you’re here now? To tell me… what, exactly? That you don’t dislike me anymore?”

You seem unable to help yourself as you snort. Take a few steps closer until the two of you are nearly touching. “I came to ask if you’d like to go to dinner with me.”

“Right now?” he asks, clearly confused. “It’s nearly eleven-o’clock. I don’t think anywhere worth going is still open.”

“Well, if all else fails,” you quip, that smug grin brilliant as it returns, “we can always order in a pizza.”

Consequences be damned, Namjoon grabs the back of your neck and pulls your lips to his own, desperate to feel his mouth against yours again. Feels nostalgic at the taste of you, the feel—smiles against your lips when it’s all the same as he remembers. Familiar, like coming home. Revels in the way his heart nearly bursts out of his chest when you smile back.

You kiss for what feels like hours. Until you’re both weak in the knees and breathless, breaking apart only to gaze at one another stupidly and punch-drunk.

Namjoon presses a final kiss to the top of your head as he lifts you, not bothering to hide the megawatt smile on his face when you wrap your legs around his waist. “Pizza sounds good.”

“Let’s get a large sausage this time,” you offer, giggling into his neck.

It sounds like the best idea Namjoon has ever heard.

Thank you for reading! My inbox is always open if you’d like to leave feedback. I’d love to hear your thoughts! ❤

#btsgoldnet #btswritingcafe #btshoneyhive #namjoon x reader #namjoon x you #knj x reader #namjoon fic #namjoon angst #namjoon fluff

[mrs-monaghan]

I want to say something. I'm a pjms so I don't ship jikook and taekook. Anyway, I noticed that this fandom hate jikook, in fact everytime there are jokes about them married or boyfriends, army get mad. But if you talk about yoonmin or taekook or namkook or vmin, they don't have problems with these ships. So, why all this hate?? Maybe it's jikook fault, if you think about it. Jikook are not the other duo, sometimes they act awkward (for example, the bb where jungkook met jimin, it was really weird to watch it, even if they were holding hands, jungkook was really cold with jimin), sometimes they act close, sometimes they act like strangers. Now they're in hiatus era, it means they're private. So people don't understand their relationship. They're close or not? If they were that close why they don't see each other? So maybe they were faking it etc.? Why Jungkook made some things for Jimin only but sometimes he seems he is refusing him?? Why Jimin always mentioned Jungkook and not anymore?

The problem is that jikook are weird so people don't like what they don't understand.

Are u an insecure Jikooker pretending to be a none shipper? You better not be. I'm watching you

Okay. Here is where an anon and I talk about why JK behaves the way he does with Jimin Vs other members. And here i talk about JK Vs the camera.

When it seems awkward its because it is. That BB had like really bad editing actually. How many times did they say goodbye? JK was on the left side already saying he's leaving while they hold hands..there's a cut and he's on their other side still saying goodbye. How long did they do that for exactly??

Jimin checking his man out as he was leaving is everything though 🤭🤭

Anyway, anon this is the first time Jikook were on camera together just them since chapter 2 started. For me it seemed like they're so used to just being them they forgot how to act on camera. The amount of times JK kept glancing at the damn thing. And we know he is only self conscious like that when its around Jimin.

Anon idk how else to explain tension to you. If u can't see it I can't help u. Like seriously I don't think its possible. Some things you have to pick up on yourself.

This fandom doesn't hate Jikook because they don't understand them. They hate them because Jikook scares them. It is easy to say Namgi real or Taekook real or Jihope real. Its easy to ask Jihope to kiss already and for all Armys to come together and laugh about it. It's easy to laugh about Namkook and their history. Because they know these people are not actually together. They give off normal bro vibes. But its hard to make jokes about a couple when they indeed behave like a couple.

You can joke with your friend for 'acting gay' but if he was actually gay then the joke wouldn't be funny and also it would be weird to do that because he is indeed gay. So you're just pointing out something that's true.

Jikook makes this fandom uncomfortable anon. Thats why they don't like talking about them.

P.s -> JK likes to be in control of situations. If he's the one intiating skinship its okay. Because he's in control. But when someone else puts him in that position it catches him off guard and it can make him look miffed. More so especially when its Jimin. Because with him there is something to hide and so it makes JK on high alert.

#ask shaz #bts ask #jikook #kookmin #jimin and jungkook #jimin #jungkook #bts

[stormblessed95]

Not that anon but here about Jihope. I love their friendship. How they've learned a lot from each other. That common bond and love of dancing surely helped but its more. I feel like they've helped each other through some of the hardest times. Personally, professionally and beyond. All those years rooming together and their personalities, you'd either loathe someone or become as close as them. We know the lighter side of them. I love watching early jihope. its not just that - the video for Hobi's birthday and him clinging onto Jimin for dear life. I think it's talked less than it should be about the mature, more serious side of Jimin even though the older members have talked about it including Hobi. (side note - we saw it in the conversation between Joon and Jimin in BV4 when Joon was struggling to switch off and can only guess how many times off screen, far away from cameras he's there)

I loved Jimin's letter to Hobi on BV2 and the depth of love. how he still found words that meant so much even despite the letter he'd already written to Hobi that he mentioned. The whole 'we should live together forever' thing. missing too much out I worry but anyway It's an equal comfort thing for them. You don't become that confidante or emotional support overnight. It comes from experience of growing the trust, testing that trust through celebrating your best moments and talking through your worst and everything in between and realizing the other will be there. Of strengthening the bond between them especially as I think they both (Jihope) can be guarded about showing the most vulnerable sides of themselves and who they reveal that side to.

The mutual respect too.

To Lolapallooza. For the vlive, we saw Jimin making Hobi laugh from the second he appeared. I think that's as much to ground him, relax him that way and make him laugh like Jimin does so often (especially with all the heightened emotions Hobi was feeling) There's a moment when Jimin's just appeared on screen with Hobi and Hobi's talking about how practicing in Chicago had been so hard and Jimin's just taking it all in, watching him carefully and he praises him so genuinely but takes care to keep it so light, keeps Hobi laughing. Plenty of time for having those heart to hearts afterward. Felt like just a tiny snapshot into the emotional support Jimin gives so freely. Him being there in the first place, his intuition of how Hobi needed something or more specifically someone who knew him well in person and to not just be there over the phone or on a video call. I think its dissmissed too easy. Like Hobi's always been characterized as the sunshine when there's always another side to all of us, Jimin's the same and I just feel happy every day that they're so close. (not even written about how important I think Hobi was for Jimin in the early days of him feeling things for JK and as everything grew and of course the other way around for Hobi and I'm sure Jimin has been there for him too - some other time maybe)

You're way more articulate than me and know so much so would love to hear what you think of them for Hobipalooza specially

Anon, you are incredibly articulate! And I fully agree with everything you've said! I talk about Jimin and Hobis dynamics in my Jihope Duo Dynamics post that you can read here if you haven't already:

I ADORE these two. One of my favorite duos. They are so so so special. Honestly. Everyone jokes about eternal roommates but to love someone and get along with someone enough to even joke about living together forever is SUCH a bond. I love how they talked about once how Jhope was actually the FIRST member Jimin met when he moved to Seoul. And how they met when Jhope said something about Jimin being a dancer too and that they should talk more, only to basically not talk again for another 6 months 🤣🤣

I remember them talking about when they first moved to their second dorm and became roommates. All the teasing, but you could tell it was done so fondly and how happy they really were with it. How they never once said they would rather switch roommates around, like some other members had. How they STAYED roommates consistently through every move and even after everyone else got single rooms. That is a BOND. The way they joke and tease. But also the way they depend on each other and are so comfortable together. The way Hobi lights up when Jimin came to see him in Chicago. How he called Jimin literally his light in the darkness and how much it meant that he showed up for him. Good lord. They are so special. Vlive link because I'm in love with it

They are both the emotional support members of Bangtan honestly. The mood makers and the mood protectors. And I think they lean extra hard on each other in that respect too. I'm so glad they have each other. And yeah. You can tell how much they mean to each other and how much they relay on each other too. Especially when one of them is sad or just in general how they take care of each other

They work so hard, they understand each other on such a deep and emotional level, they look out for each other and they play so goofy. They really do get along perfectly. And I'm so glad that they have each other for that.

I think it's so important that they have each other snd have that support in each other they can fall back on by the end of the day and grow with and learn from each other. They always always talk about how much they learn from each other and respect the other. Their friendship is so beautiful and so inspiring honestly too. They care so deeply.

I really don't have much to add to everything you already said! You said it so beautifully! I really do love these two! And I agree. They should be talked about more within these fandom. How amazing their bond is together and how deep it runs!

It's lifelong type of friendship for sure. They don't use to word eternal for nothing!!

#jihope main dancers and best roommates and best friends and light of my life #jihope

[sizzlingpatrolfox]

I just realized that jikook in Japan does not arouse strong emotions in me, 1-2 years ago I would have been excited about it, because it is a symbolic place where gcf in Tokyo was filmed. But now I approach everything with cold blood and wait for more information and moments to draw my own conclusions. A lot has happened this year and I've learned to take everything with a grain of salt.

I romanticize my own life and relationships a lot. I really do. I look at my friends and family like this *___* and I talk about them the same way. I keep letters from 15 years ago, I keep cinema tickets, I keep the piece of paper where my little sister wrote my name for the first time.

I used to be the same way about BTS, and jikook. Now I'm not anymore. I don't really have any reasons to romanticize jikook or Jimin's relationships with anyone else. I guess I had reasons to look at it in a lovelier lighter when I thought there was something different about them, but I don't see anything different now and I haven't seen it since for a couple of years. Like, okay. They're fun and have good chemistry together. I'm old enough and I've dated enough to know that you don't build a relationship with only fun and chemistry. It needs more, and I don't see that "more".

I even said months ago that if the only time we saw them together was on filmed, official content, then I'd side eye tf out of them. And I said it because I had a feeling that was how it was going to be. And that's how it is. I'm not comfortable with knowing only idol Jimin and idol Jungkook. It doesn't get more "idol" than this: filming a reality tv show. That's why it also doesn't feel as natural. This is them doing a job, being idols. I'm sooo sorry (not) that I don't have it in me to romanticize them filming a reality or whatever, when I'm fully aware this is literally the first and only thing I've known of them together in years.

The funny thing is, I don't romanticize any friendship in BTS. I think this year Jimin has been inseparable from Hoseok, he said it himself when he went to Fallon that Hoseok was the closest member to him. I'm not making threads and writing essays about how amazing jihope are together. But jikookers and taekookers want to literally crucify you if you don't say they're the most romantic perfect couple to exist. I'm sure not even BTS look at the in-group friendships like that.

[bts-hyperfixation]

Kinktober Day 13

JiHope - Daisy Chain.

Anal, Vaginal sex

 

"This should definitely be interesting," Jimin comments as he kneels naked on the bed.

You lie in front of him, legs spread thinking there could have been a better time to small talk. Hobi crowds behind the singer, still stood to the side of the bed. He runs his hands over the blonde's shoulders massaging firmly.

"Personally I think this is one of my best ideas yet." Hobi grins at you lying on the bed "I have such a great view from up here."

You make a kissy face at the rapper and he winks back at you. Jimin shakes his head at the two of you but starts to move into position anyway. As he lines his cock up to you, Hobi smacks his ass jolting him forward. The singer grumbles and turns his head to showcase his displeasure but the grimace is quickly kissed away and the annoyance is forgotten. Hobi places a few quick pecks on Jimin's lips before allowing the blonde to revert his attention to you.

"Are you sure you fully prepped for this Jimin?" Hobi asks, grabbing onto each of Jimin's cheeks and pulling them apart.

"Always prepped for you Hyung," Jimin nods. "Are you ready for me Y/N?"

"Always ready for you Jimin." You mock his tone. 

In response to your cheeky answer, he pushes all the way in without letting you adjust completely. You groan as he bottoms out, only regretting it slightly. Jimin smirks at you, gloating. A look that quickly fades as he feels the cold sting of lube hitting his hole. Jimin's body freezes as Hobi lines himself up.

"I thought you were ready Jimin-ah?" Hobi teases. 

The older man hovers with just the tip pressing against Jimin's hole. He's never been known for his patience and so he pushes back against Hobi, almost begging the man to enter him fully. His cock drags slowly along your walls as he fucks himself onto Hobi. You fidget to acclimate yourself to the motion. It's agonising waiting for him to fuck you properly.

The men rock tentatively against one another, testing the way they feel together, all the while Jimin's tip threatens to slip away from you completely. You whine to regain their attention and immediately have two sets of eyes peering down at you.

"Getting impatient angel?" Hobi asks "Need me to fuck Jiminie harder so you can feel him too?" 

He punctuates his sentence with a harsh thrust, pushing Jimin forward, and subsequently forcing his cock back inside of you. Hobi starts off slowly, with shallow thrusts that only provide you with a little friction.

"Please Hobi, want you to make Jimin feel so good." 

"I feel good baby, I definitely think it's you getting impatient...." Jimin says with a smirk.

"Fine, fine, I admit it. I don't want to wait any longer... I need you desperately, please fuck harder."

"How could I ever say no to that?" Hobi grins.

He thrusts harder and faster, propelling Jimin forward and deeper into you. You moan in tandem as the rapper sets a relentless pace. Hobi grabs Jimin's hips, pulling them with him every time he pulls out. Finally, Jimin collapses against your shoulder panting as Hobi does most of the work. The blonde bites into your skin as he finishes, unable to stop the movement and forcing him into overstimulation. Jimin whines deep in your ear, driving you over the edge.

Hobi isn't far behind, littering kisses across Jimin's back as he cums deep inside of the dancer.

Masterlist

#hoseok smut #hoseok fic #jimin fic #jimin smut #bts fic #bts smut #kpop fic #kpop smut #bts imagines #kinktober 22 #kinktober bts

[harrowreads]

❥ NAVIGATION ❣

HELLO! WELCOME TO MY LITTLE CORNER OF THE INTERNET. 

❣ Most of the content that I share is intended for folks 18+ only! Minors, do not interact!

❥ This is a side blog! I follow from my main blog @theharrowing.

❥ This is a safe space, meaning I will not discriminate based on sexual preferences, gender identities, race or ethnicity, accessibilities, interests, or any other trait and preference. Because of this, I expect the people that interact with me to be of the same mind. I will not hesitate to block folks who may seem like a safety hazard to myself and my readers.

❥ I read and share all kinds of content, including dead dove, yandere and mafia, and stories containing dubcon/noncon, gore, graphic violence, recreational hard drug use, etc. I want to make sure my readers are safe and comfortable at all times, but I need you to meet me halfway and only interact with content that you feel safe interacting with. Please read individual warnings before proceeding!

❥ I also read and share all kinds of relationships and dynamics, including member x reader, member x member, poly, etc. (If you read what I write, then you should know what to expect with what kind of content I will share.)

❥ I do not take recommendations, and I read for pleasure only. With a busy school schedule, I already do not have a lot of time as is, so my reading and reviewing might be really sporadic at times. Please do not ask me to read your fic or badger me about reading something unless I ask.

❣ If you find any links that are broken or lead to the wrong place, please feel free to let me know! This is a lot of shit to link and I am bound to make some mistakes.

❥ View Master Lists with my favorites, by Member:

Namjoon | Seokjin | Yoongi | Hoseok | Jimin | Taehyung | Jungkook

Poly, group, threesome, etc. fics will be cross-posted to each member's individual list.

These lists are not extensive; they only feature current favorites and may be swapped out from time to time. To access everything I have written, use the member tags below!

❥ View reblogs of everything, based on tags:

↳ Search by Author

Here you will find an extensive list of every author I have shared content from

↳ Member Tags:

Namjoon x Reader, NamJin, NamGi, NamSeok, NamKook

Seokjin x Reader, 2seok, JinMin, JinKook

Yoongi x Reader, Yoongi x Original Character, Sope, YoonMin, YoonKook

Hoseok x Reader, HopeKook

Jimin x Reader, MinJoon (aka MiniMoni), JiHope, JiKook

Taehyung x Reader, Vmin, Vmon, TaeJin, TaeGi, Vhope, TaeKook

Jungkook x Reader

OT7 x Reader, Rap Line x Reader, Maknae Line x Reader

Ship Info: Ship tags are listed in fanchant order under the name of the member that is first in the ship. All two-person ships have been listed but if one is not yet a link, then there is nothing that I have to link to (yet.)

↳ Special Content Tags:

Queer | SFW | Dark Themes | Threesome | Group | Poly

↳ Status Tags:

Read | Currently Reading

↳ Fics from External Sites:

ao3 | Twitter

Note: A bunch of the reviews were originally done on my main page, @theharrowing.

Some of my older reviews are a little scarce and short, while others are more long-winded with in-depth praise. My goal is to start leaving longer reviews moving forward, but if you see something that is nothing more than a keyboard smash and 5 words, know that I was literally just living my best life.

❥ Non-BTS Content:

↳ Stray Kids Member Tags:

Bang Chan

↳ Stray Kids Status Tags:

Read